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12 THE SOUTHERN WORLD, AUGUST 1, 1882. “ The world, dear child, Is m wo take It, and Life, be mire. I» what we make It." TUB /ENTHBTIC DOLL. BY OEOBOB COOl-KR. Moat Kirin with their holla, have their trial*; (Stand atralght, 8era|ihlna, now do') My life la Just all self-denials, And troubles, I have not a few i I’ve done what I could for my dollies, There’s Dorothy, once quite a queen, I've humored each one of her follies, And now she’s scarce lit to be seen. Quite lately, the queerest of fancies lias taken possession of her. She won't wear a dress like Miss Nancy's— A dull, grimy-green she’ll prefer. Her waxen cheeks once were so rosy, Just look at them now-leady white! At a sundower, that once was so prosy, She rolls up her eyes In delight I There’s Betsey, she's rag’s, but she's proper, And Dorcas—they'vegot too much sense. Just see thatglrl weep 1 I must stop her— She really Is so Intense! My doll-house I'll lock, close each shutter. And see what correction will do. Ma says she’s too utterly utter; /think she’s too utterly too! A Liny Hoy ’s Plana. MV JAMES OTIS. Oolden Days. Washington Lincoln Brown was as black and us lazy a little darkey as ever was raised in the State of Florida. He was perfectly happy as long as he could lie at full length in the sand, with the sun beating directly down upon his woolly head, and hour after hour would he take this sun-bath, appa rently too lazy to brush away the flies that stopped to feast upon the fragments of sugar-cane which smeared his mouth with sticky sweetness. Never a complaint would he make while he was permitted to remain there undis turbed; but the moment his mother asked him to get a pail of water or go the store on the most trifling errand, Washington was a very unhappy boy. To be obliged to walk fifty yards, save for his own pleasure, caused him to believe he was woefully abused, and to be forced to prepare the kindling-wood seemed to deprive him of all life. Washington’s father often threatened to And some work for him, whereby he might do something toward paying for the food and enormous amount of sugar-cane he ate, and when these threats hud been first made, the little darkey was in a state of most ab ject fear. As the time wore on, however, and the work was not provided, Washington re covered his usual tranquil frame of mind, believing that his father’s threats would not bear any disagreeable fruits to him. He never went fishing, “ kase dere's too much work ef de fish bites," he said ; and, as for playing marbles or ball, why he never dreamed of doing anything so laborious. Chewing sugar-cane was the extent of his work, and there were times when even that •required more effort than he felt capable of putting forth. One afternoon, while he was lying in the sand with a piece of cane by his side, wonder ing whether he had better try to eat it or not, he saw his father coming up the road, lead ing Fete Jones’ old yellow mule, Hamlet. Washington was so Auch surprised that he sprang to a sitting posture at once, with out stopping several minutes to think about it, os was his custom; and without knowing why, the thought came to him that this dis agreeable old mule was in some way con nected with his father’s threat to provide work for him. “ Dere’s trubbie cummin’ fur dis chile, an dat ole mule's gwlne to be inter it," he mut tered. And then he looked around uneasily, as if trying to discover a way by which he could leave the premises without being seen by his father. But Mr. Brown had his eyes on Washing ton, apd it seemed as if Hamlet had also, for he waved his wisp of a tail, moved his ears back and forth warnlngly, and looked altogether so wicked that poor little Wash ington grasped his piece of sugar-cane as a weapon of defense, waiting in fear and trem bling, for the trouble that seemed to come with the yellow mule. There was a severe look on Mr. Brown’s face as he stopped the ungainly animal in front of bis frightened son, and asked, sternly: “Does yer see dis yere mule, Linkum ?" Now it would have been very foolish, as well as untrue, for Washington to have pre tended that he did not see Hamlet, in all his yellow ugliness, therefore, he nodded his head in reply. “Wall, 1’se done gone bought dis yere mule, son; an’ now I reckon you'll do sum- fin else ’sides rootin’ out yere in de sand." Then Mr. Brown walked away with one end of the halter in his hand, while Hamlet followed in a sorrowful way, with his ears flapping in the breeze, much as if he was sympathizing with Mr. Brown for having so indolent a son. For a few moments there were thoughts in Washington’s mind as to terrible deeds which he would do, but he rejected them upon deliberation, and went into the house to learn just how it was his father proposed that he and Hamlet should go to work. It did not take him very long to discover this highly important fact, for after Mr. Brown had given the mule his dinner he came into tbe house to tell his wife of his purchase and plans. y He had traded his oyster-stand with Mr. Pete Jones for the mule, and he proposed that Washington should utilize him by start ing in the business of selling wood. At the saw-mills the edges of the boards and ends of the logs were thrown out for any one who cared to carry them away, and very many of the colored boys of Jackson ville drove a flourishing business by selling these pieces at the rate of fifty cents a load. Washington knew all about it, for he had pitied those unhappy little darkeys who drove back and forth in the streets, perched on tbe sharp ends of the timbers, or labored at the mills to fill their carts with market able fuel. The mere thought of the trouble which had come upon him was too much for his lazy spirit, and he went out to the poor apol ogy for a stable, to indulge in his grief, at the same time he berated the innocent cause of bis suffering. Hamlet was contentedly eating his rather dry dinner of rice-straw, and did not pay very much attention to his new driver until Washington, in a spirit of inquislti'veness, struck him on the hind-legs with a stick, and then the innocent-looking animal flung his heels against the side of the frail build ing with a force that knocked olT several boards. “ Dat’s it,” chuckled Washington, think ing he had found an easy solution to all his perplexities. “ Keep on, an’ p’raps you’ll done gone kick your head ofT!" But Hamlet did not continue to that de sired point, perhaps because it was too much work, or perhaps because kicking his own head off was rather too difficult a task. Washington never worked harder in his life than he did the remainder of that duy trying to devise some way to escape the coming labor, but all to no purpose; and bright and early on the following morning, his father awakened him to begin his new duties as a wood-merchant. His skin was already so black that the frown he wore when he mounted the cart and started Hamlet toward the mill could not well make his face darker, but it gave him a terribly discontented air, which did not argue well for success in his new business. “ I’se clean ’scouraged," he said to him self, as he hung over the front of the cart in a limp, helpless sort of way, after his father had finished giving him orders as to how and where he could sell his wood to the best advantage; and Washington looked as he said he felt, until he was nearly half-way to the mill, and then a bright smile spread over his face until his tuouih was opened so wide that it scented almost certain his nose would fall into it. “If I could kill Hamlen, dat would fix up de wood bizness,” he whispered to himself, as he struck the mule a resounding blow with a lath. “I’ll git him down to de mill, and den I'll done gone drap a log ob wood onto him an kill him dead." The idea pleased Washington Lincoln to such an extent that he leaned over the side of the cart in an uncontrollable burst of laughter, and then, as the more serious phase of the case' presented itself, he mut tered: “Ef I do dat, daddy’ll lose de isterstandl an’ Hamlen, too; but I can’t help it, fur ef he 'Mists on makin’ me tote wood, up goes de mule! "Then he laughed again as he pict ured to himself the death of the animal that was the cause of so much trouble to him, and shouted, gleefully: “Go 'longdar, you Hamlen! Show you’se hoofs, quick 1 ” So intent was Washington upon his mur-. dermis thoughts, that the distance to the mill seemed so short he was surprised when he found himself already at the scene of his proposed crime. But his surprise did not prevent him from going to work yery carefully in order to insure success. He backed Hamlet up to the largest pile of wood, and examined him critically, to make sure he did not suspect what was about to be done to him. Then, in order to allay any suspicions the mule might have had and concealed, Wash ington threw several pieces of wood into the cart, to make it appear as if it was his intention to take a load. All this time, Hamlet stood with his ears dropping forward, evidently sleeping the sleep of a tired mule; and it seemed to Washington that he was in the best possible position for the carrying out of his plan. “Now we’se gwine ter fin’ out who’s gwine ter tote wood all day,” muttered Washington as he selected the heavy end of a log as tbe instrument of execution, and carried it, with no slight difficulty to the cart. It was quite as much as he could lift, and a great deal more weight than he would have been willing to struggle with had it not been that by so doing he saw a very speedy relief from all his present troubles. His intentions were to stand on the edge of the cart, holding the log as high in the air as possible, and then drop it on the un suspecting Hamlet with force sufficient to kill him. After some difficulty he succeeded in get ting on tbe cart, and poised the log for the deadly blow. Hamlet was still sleeping, and, with a chuckle of satisfaction, Wash ington dropped the log. He never knew exactly how it happened, but it seemed to him the instant the log left his bands that mule awoke, and in the most vigorous manner. His heels came up as the log went down ; the front of the cart was quickly converted into kindling-wood; Washington Lincoln Brown was thrown far out on to the lumber-pile, and Hamlet went up the street at a speed that astonished even his most intimate acquaintances. Poor Washington 1 When he crept out from amid the lumber his mother would hardly have recognized him, so bruised and battered was he; and he limped painfully home, fully realizing that lazy people often times take the most pain. He never forgot the lesson Hamlet taught him and ever after that memorable attempt to kill the mule he was An industrious boy as one could find—or to express it more for cibly, he was os industrious as he had been indolent. Carving “a Sow and Philip Wood was a village carpenter, who had developed an uncommon skill in wood carving, and had made some striking figures for the adornment of' his sweetheart’s house, a lass above himself in rank and for tune. In the hope of improving his circum stances, and thus lessening the disparity be tween them, he went to London, where he sought work in vain, until his store of money was reduced to a single guinea. The huge dome of St. Paul’s was then ris ing above the smoke of London. Philip Wood applied to the foreman for work in carving the wood for the interior. Repulsed by him he haunted the place day after day, and at last attracted the notice of the great Sir Christopher himself. “What have you been used to carving? ” asked the architect. The carpenter, in the extremity of his ag itation, could only stammer out: “Troughs, your worship." “Troughs! ” said Sir Christopher. “Then carve a specimen of your skill, a sow and pigs, it will be something in your line—and bring it to me this day week. I shall be here." The poor fellow shrunk away from the laughter of the workmen, and returned to his lodging in despair. But he had a friend in his landlady, who advised him to take Sir Christopher at his word, and carve the best sow and pigs ho could in the time. With his last guinea he bought a block of pear wood, and by using his utmost dilli- gonce finished the work in time, and took it under'his apron to the appointed place. The architect was there, and beckoned the trembling carpenter to approach. Upon inspecting the beautiful work, Sir Christopher said: “1 engage you young man. Attend at ray office to-morrow forenoon." A few hours after Sir Christopher came to the carver again, and said to him: “Mr. Addison wishes to keep your carving, and requested me to give you ten guineas for it." Then added: “Young man, I fear I did you some injus tice ; but a great national work is entrusted to me, and it is my solemn duty to mind that no part of the work falls into inefii- cient hands. Mind and attend me to-mor row.” It is a pleasure to know that the young artist did much of the fine carving of St. Paul’s and married the girl of his heart.— Christian at Work. Tell Your Mother, Girls. We wonder how many girls tell their mothers everything. Not those “young ladies” who, going to and from school,smile, bow, and exchange notes and pictures with young men, who make fun of them and their pictures, speaking in a way that would make their cheeks burn with shame if they heard it. All this, most credulous and ro mantic young ladies, they will do, although they will gaze at your fresh young faces ad miringly, and send or give you verses or bouquets. No matter what other girls do, don’t you do it. School-girl flirtation may end disastrously, as many a foolish, wretch ed young girl could tell you. Your yearn ing for some one to love you is a great need of every woman's heart. But there is a time for everything. Don’t let the bloom and fresh ness of your heart be brushed off in silly flirtations. Render yourself truly intelli gent. And above all, tell your mother everything. Never be ashamed to tell her, who should be your best friend and confidant all you think and feel. It is strange that many young girls will tell every person be fore "mother” that which it is most impor tant that she should know. It is sad that indifferent persons should know more about her fair young daughters than she does her self. PilMIMl v These Famous Steel Penn ■ combine the cwntlal ouaHtlc* I ot Elasticity, Durability and ■ real Swan Quill Action, and are milted to all fttylea of writ- ■■ing. For Hale everywhere. Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor, &Co., N.Y CEMENT FOR SILOS. Bny Our Imporlnl "IMPERIAL” PORTLAND CEMENT. than the common cement*. Remit 75 cents In pont age mtamps for our Treatise, which shows how to mix It and how to use it. For circular directions “JIow to Build Silos,” and the good results therefrom, remit 60 cents In postage stamps. H. Is. MERCHANT A CO., P.O. Box~620. N. B.-Whe paper you saw this advertisement In. GENUINE BUFFALO PITTS! Plain and Traction — Ilone Powers, etc. 1„. Address TUB P1TTN Mention this paper. Bnirhlo. N. Y. nc«r ,u.u t i n s I Ion Engines, Vibrating Threshers, c. For Catalogue and Price List, ITT.S AUBIl'VLT’L WOItKN, Mnention Southern World, ESTABLISHED IN 1850. TURNIP SEED I TURNIP SEEED ! I True American Purple Top, White Flat, White and Yellow Iluta-Baga and all approved varieties or Swede Turnip Seed BO cents per pound-16 cents added If sent per mall. JOHNSON GRASS SEED Yields three and (our cuttings a year. Send a three cent stamp lor a descriptive pamphlet to IIEKHKKT PONT, Marlon Junction, Ain. SILK WORM EC&S In any quantity, for sale. Apply Immediately. MILS. J. 11, MITC1IKI.L, IIuuklusTllIc, On. German Carp One year old 6&) per hundred (will spawn next year.)/This year’s hatching «10 per hunTed" JurnWudfra. Cash remittance* will receive prompt attention. Three Icln&Jor sale. ABHB A. WRIGHT, Grlffln, Qa. SOUTH DOWN NIIUUl*. ' dSwW ee m p. 80UTH -