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The Zephyr was once a newspaper of the Town of Dalhousie. It is clear from reading this small four page paper that it was meant more as a joke than a serious newspaper. Some of it is even aimed at some residents of Dalhousie and surrounding area but it is hard to say now who and why.
The Chaleur Zephyr "There was apparently Winter Edition called The Icicle. (Chip Bateman, Agent)
*Note* The Editor's Diary The newspaper is the Editor's diary; whether at home or abroad he is supposed to be ever on the alert for something to interest, something to amuse his news-reading constituency. "Your business, sir?" inquires the hotel proprietor, and the modest response, "I am connected with the CHALEUR ZEPHYR," acts at once as a stimulation to "mine host," who immediately proceeds to expatiate on the superior advantages of his municipality as a summer resort, and incidentally informs the quill driver that there is "material here for a good article." Thus, by universal consent, it is conceded that the Editor cannot "live unto himself alone," but must at all times and in all places consider himself as an "open book, read by all men." Don't Hurry Home A spell of cool weather, coming just about the first of September, at ways drives a great many people at this charming summer resort back to the city. People forget that we often have cool weather in August, followed by a decidedly warm period in September and they hasten home at the first intimation of coming Fall. This is a great mistake The country, even the mountains, is never so enjoyable, so beautiful or so hearthful as in September and early October. Those who are not compelled to return to the city by the demands of business, will consult their own best interests by a longer sojourn among Nature's beauties. For the Fair Sex Silver jewelry is all the rage and bracelets are much worn. Tucks are revived for dresses and immense bustles are going out.. Bordered stuffs are worn again.. The feminine taste in hosiery turns to solid lines.. Little girls' dresses are made with round waists and full skirts.. Daffodil yellow is very fashionable in trimmings.. It is the first duty of a woman to be a lady, for bad manners in women are immorality. "Bout Town. A pretty little girl at the Inch-arran wants to know if fleas are white; because her mamma told her that Mary had a little lamb with fleas as white as snow. We've got no time to waste on vitiate mud hens like the St John Glove, the mental paralytic of the Moncton Transcript, the double distilled idiot of the Toothpick, and the arrogant and self-conceited dude of the Advance. Society received a moral crush when the facts became noised abroad that Miss Sophia Simon, the gushing belle, had eloped with an unknown, and intended making her debut on a western stage in "Three Little Maids from School." Our private Missionary, who has been propagating the truth among the Sewerville Indians of late, was told by 'Little Man Bumble" that "Campbellton whiskey no good: made of tongues and hearts, for when me drink it me fear nothing and talk like angel." We advise giddy girls, gilded youths and crusty old bachelors to give a wide berth to the "All Nighter." There is nothing there beyond sirens who have disgraced the town, ruined dozens and blighted proud hopes of the promising. On August 12th the Antique Order of Old Hats gave their first "outing" since that honorable body was instituted one eyar ago, and together with their friends sailed on the palace steamer Blue Nose for the tranquil picnic grounds at the Mission. The members to a unit had donned their double-turrets, and our Friend, the Presiden, in his greeting at the pavillion, remarked with a degree of pride (used with the reflexive pronoun here); "It has been conceded, in this age of cultured tastes, that a man's estimation of himself, and the opinion he entertains of character and its elements, are designated in the hat he wears." A life-size portrait of Gen. Middleton now grace our sanctum. It was executed in London, and is the figt of the Queen. Thanks! Mr. Alex Morton, the "Crown Prince" of Benjamin, has recently laid claim to the entire Indian Reservation of Eel River, and purposes converting that alluvial tract into orange groves. Hereafter it will be known as "New Florida." No people can be effective and prominent without education, and no section can shine as a star in the firmament of Restigouche's glory unless its hilltops have heard the shouts of the schoolboy, or its purling rills reflected the dimpled beauty of blushing maidens. The Young Men's Temperance Meeting last evening in Masonic Hall was well attended. The Hon. Peter Cormier presided and offered up a short orison. Addresses were made by other shining lights, and Prof. W. Edwards introduced his newest lay. "Who hit Bill Thorpe with the chicken egg?" The enterprising firm of W & W Edwards have removed their tailoring business to the McKay block on lower Prince William St. With more commodious quarters, expert workmen, and a varied stock (imported) to select from, they would respectfully solicit a continuance of former patronage. One of THE ZEPHYR'S Campbellton subscribers writes that he wishes the address of his paper changed. The postoffice up there, he says, "is not reliable as the cattle occupy it most of the time and when the grass gets scarce they will begin at the papers." His wishes have been complied with. Night running is ruinous to the morals of boys. They acquire under the cover of night an unhealthy state of mind, vulgar and profane language and a lawless and riotous bearing. Indeed, it is in the streets after nightfall that boys principally acquire the education of bad capacity for becoming dissolute men. He was the Life of Town While enjoying a skip the other evening on board Mr. Paul DuChane's slop-yacht Blue Blazes, our colloquialism naturally drifted to "old-time" incidents. Said our Friend: "Yes, indeed, Jack; the persuasion of my cogitating faculty dispels all doubt, knocks indecision into oblivion, and leaves Murdock the most convivial fellow I ever sailed with. " True it is. Full of merriment and spirit "Mug" always was jovial and good-natured he always will be. As a narrater of "briny adventures" he is rich. Here is a snatch of one of his favorite sea ballads:
Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring sailer.
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