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DEVOTED TO NEWS, POLITICS, AGRICULTURE, EDUCATION AND GENERAL PROGRESS:
VOLUME XXV.
ATHENS, GEORGIA,—-TUESDAY, MAY 7, 1878.
NUMBER 6.
THE SOUTHERN WATCHMAN
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY.
agtc* «nw of Broad and Wall Stmtj, (ap-ttalrt.)
TERMS.
TWO POX.XjABS TTHA.Il,
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
JFielect gjiscellang.
“GOD KNOWS WHO WAS EIGHT.”
ADVERTISING.
IMMb win be inserted at ONE DOLLAR periqumir
ir the Unit ineertiOD, and FIFTY CENTS pemqnere for eech
ontinoence, for way time under one month. For
lode, e liberal deduction will he made.
LEGAL ADVERTISING.
SherilTa aalee. per **•“
r louder i*e-
Ctattfoas of Administration or Goardlanship **00
•c#hHd>a»tn lvhtnrw and Creditors
Notice to Debtor* and Creditors
CltaUonf^di-.tadonofAtohjlmrator
r actions are counted ss fall squares.
<£arbs.
T> X. NELMS,
li. attorney-at-law,
UARMOXV GROVE, JACKSOS COUSTY, GA.
Will attend promptly to liualness entrusted to his care.
Refers to Judge A. Al. Speer, Griffin, Ga., and Hon. J. r.
Spence, Joneeboto, Ga. _ 8
M atthews * owes,
Physicians and Apothecaries,
HOSIER, BASKS COUSTT.OA.
dSrzxssnsxss suss&ki ssshsbk?
always on hand.
An old Virginian had a son killed in each army, and after
the war barfed them aide by side In the old family baiylnj;
rround. On the monument bo placed the names oi each,
with the words, “ God knows who was right.”
Under the sod.
Where both armies
In anger hare trod.
Under the sky,
That has witnessed
How heroes can die;
Two brothers lie sleeping,
In the Bine and the Grey,
While the pale stars are keeping.
Their watch through the night;
“ God knows who was right.
LASABCOH.
Sc H. COBB,
i. Attorneys at Law,
tar office in Pcnpree Bnilding.
HOWELL COS B
ANDREW J. COUB.
AUX. a. sbwik.
E KWIN Ss COBB,
Attorneys at Law, Athens, Ga.
Office corner Broad and Thomas streets; over the store oi
Childs, Nickerson A Co. aog2i—ly
David C. BaSEOW. Jb.
For* Harrow.
B AKKOW BROS.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
ATIIKSS, GA.
IWOfflce over Talmadge, Hodgson & Co. inarto.
B\ WOFFORD.
Attorney at Law, Homer, Ga.
Will exeente promptly all business entrusted to his care.
Collecting claims a specialty. ap21—tf
B.
E
MOBY SPEER,
Attomey-at-Law, Athens, Ga.
[VOffice, Nos. 4 and 5, Court House. dec; 9
iDWARDRHABDKN,
j (Late Judge U. S. Coarts Nebraska aud Utah, and n<
Judge of Brooks County Court,)
Attorney at Law, Quitman, Erects Co., Ga.
F loyd & silman,
Attorneys at Law,
Will practice in the counties of Wsltou and Jackson.
JOHN J. FLUID, J. B. SILVAN
Covington, Go. mar4 Jefferson, Ga.
J F\ O’KELLKY’S
. Photograph Gallery,
Over Snead Jb Co.’s Shoe store. Broad street, Athens, Geor
gia. eopw
J H. HUGGINS,
• Wholesale and Retail Dealer in
Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware, &c.
feblC Broad Street, Athens, Gs.
J AMES R. LYLE,
Attorney at Law,
deett . WATKIXSVILLE, GA.
|GHN M. MATTHEWS.
I Attorney at Law, Eanielsville, Ga.
I*rompt attention will be given to any business entrusted to
bis care.
J AMES L. LONG, M. U.,
Surgeon, Aceonchenr and Physician,
GJfes 0< Mr. Tnomas Steals’ Store, Good Hups District, Wal-
' » countyi Georgia.)
Offers his professional services to the citizens of the sur
onnding country aug27
r IVEBY, Feed Sc Sale Stable,
"j QSS k UK YES, Prop’s, t bens, Gs.
JTJ1 bp found at their old stand, rear Franklin House build-
yhoma* streef. Keep always on hand good torn-out*
iJd careful drivers.
Stock well cared for when entrusted to onr care.
S‘Dck on hand'for sale at <tll times. decSS—tf
Who has woo T
Neither may know
The conflict is done;
In the grave,*
Let them sleep
The sleep of the brave;
Together unmolested they lie,
lu Uic Grey and the Blue,
While the wind surges by;
Ttiey fell in the merciless light;
•* God knows who was right.”
It is cudcd,
Aud the heavens
lu pity are bended.
For the fate
Of the fallen,
lu a warfare of hate;
Two brothers have l>!ed,
In the Grey aud the Blue,
Sleep, •* beaurii ill dead!”
Free from calomuy’s blight;
“God kuowswho was right.”
Like a dove,
Over them hover,
Sweet banner of love!
Make them one,
In union forever.
For the battle i* done;
Let the heroes rest.
The Grey and the Blue,
lu the laud of the blest,
In a peace shrond of white;
“God knows who was right.”
Side liy side!
United by death.
Vet divided they died.
Grant them repose,
Oh. Father above!
No more are they foes;
In the soil of their birth,
In the Blue aud the Grey,
Under the green sodden earth;
They have fought their last fight,
“ God knows who was right.”
Under the sod
Where both armies
In anger have trod,
There they lie,
Under the tears
Distilled from the sky—
Two brothers are sleep ng
lu the Blue and the Grey,
While the pale stars are keeping,
Their watch through the night:
•* God knows who was right.”
—lAmisciUt Sews a
UNCLE BEN’S GHOST.
THIJRMOXO,
ttorney «t Law, th ens, Ga.
Office on Broad street, over the store of J. M. Barry—will
give special attention to cases in Bankruptcy. Also, to the
collection of all claim* entrusted to his care.
S O, DQ^Q (
9 Wholesale and Retail Deafer in
Staple and Fancy Dry Goods, Groceries, ke.
fob® r Lower end of Broad Street, Athens, Ga.
? G. THOMPSON,
• Attorney at LaWj
'aTUMXS, a A.
W
J. RAY,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
MONROE, GEORGIA.
IW"WU1 give prompt attention to all business entrusted to
Is care. ang25—tf
T A. 1LER,
. WA TCHMA KKR A XD JEWRLSIt,
Next door to Reaves A Nicholson, Thomas sL, Athens, Ga.
All work warranted twelve montlis. septlt
EEL S. ERIE
JAMES 6. LYLE.
Watklnsyiqe. Athens.
^Qkttoxxkjoym a/t Xsarorv
11TILL practice la partnership in the Superior Court
If Oconaa county, and attend promptly to all business«
IrwMtAlMvMM *•»«_»*
B,
THRASHER,
ATTORNEY* AT-LAW.
WATKIXSVILLE, OCOXEE CO., GA.
feb. M, 1878-1,.
1 A. DAVIS.
>. ATTORNEY-AT-LAW
SIOSROK, WALTOS CO., GA.
WMMSTMj.
T v? f'lTto Tanrv
STKS06KAP111C KSPOKTIt FOE THE WISTIRN Cl RCUIT,
XTTILL Attend Ooorts and trials (other than Superior Court)
v Y and farnish accurate reports of evidence and report
civil cases in Superior Courts, on reasonable terms. Will
alaogtva
terms,
writing—Stenography—
•epttia
Medical Notice.
A T UuwUcttttfca o( wtatolmjUmarvtnut, I ream.
Uk practiceol Medicine from Ihlidme- Idrafa. tony
m. the practice of ■■
••pedal oamBoa to th. dlraura ol INFANTS imd Cl
DREN, tad th* CHRONIC DUKASES OF PZMALEs/M
WM. KINO, M.
INSURANCE.
..AW,325,f94
a CUUnssiready paid by the Co.. v ••••;•
Aug. 8,1874.
BOOT & SHOE
ESTABLISHMENT.
by mail or express.
P. WEIL.
TO RENT,
T WO eomtetlble V ises sad Iota, with good gardens and
.. all necessary out-mUldinga, within nveminatea’ walk
ot the bnaineas part of the city. Apply at
W. J. MORTON.
HARMONY GROVE
CARRIAGE SHOP
a of the toast and a
W ^bfeW'BfDBS, Baggfes, Ac. We ask
tion of our work and price*. Repairing of all lundsfn
line done satisfactorily, and at the abonaat notice,
mar. S-ly ECKLKS A CROW.
Northeastern Hotel,
HARMONY GROVE, GA.
B-2T SOXOIwCOGsT 9EOAB.
Cl.OOP Bra, comlorttbfrroci «nd rent raMOtnliUprlcra.
VjrFj»«ogra» conveyed to end from Jetferaon, or other
My Uucle Ben believes in ghosts? Ol
course he did; he used to say : “ No mod
ern mausiou of stucco for me ; give me a
grand old house, all covered by ivy and
bidden by trees, whose walls are "hung
with tapestry, and whose passages, ex
tending from room to room, make the
blood curdle with their gloom and length.
Why, sir, there is something enlivening
even in jts decay; the dampness ot its
walls, and the cracks in the discolored
ceilings, which only suggest to the vulgar
raiud ague and rheumatism, are evidences
to iui> ol its venerable age and respecta
bility. The very mice that scamper upand
down iu the time worn wainscoting give
me a friendly greeting that I never meet
in your new-fashioned houses, built for a
race of mammon-worshipers, who have
made their wealth out of shoddy and pe
troleum.”
I really believe that Uncle Ben valued
the shade that was said to haunt his
house far higher than all his more tangible
property. Nothing made him more angry
than for one to doubt its existence ; he
was always ready to break a lauce with
any skeptic on the subject aud to ofler
him a bed in the haunted room ; aud, al
though many of the young members of
the tamily scoffed at the story, very lew
had the courage to accept tne challenge.
One winter night, when the wind was
moaning round the chimney-pots and
through the eaves, singing a dirge among
the leafless branches of the guaut old
spectral trees lor the joys of the dead
summer, the family was gathered round
the lire in the drawing room.
Uncle Ben. who was standiug with his
back to the fire, said to his uephew:
“ I think, Joe, we had better put on an
other log of wood ; I don’t ieel incliued
for bed yet, and I suppose you youngsters
intend to sit up half the night as usual.”
I don’t mean to turn in yet, tor one,
uncle,” replied Joe. “Tell us one of
your ghost stories; a regular blood-curd-
ler.”
“Ah, Joe,” said the old man, “I’m afraid
you are a thorough skeptic. You disbe
lieve in all supernatural appearances.”
“Certainly,” answered Joe, who was
Secretary to the Literary Debating Socie
ty in the little town of Mudborough, and
who had written an essay to p.ove the
non-existence of every thing, and that we
are simply the creation of our own
thoughts. “Certainly these impalpable
spectres are only illusions which the dis
ordered condition of onr weak physical
organs bring before us.”
“ I own you are a clever lad, Joe, but
1 don’t care a button for your arguments
I believe in ghosts because I bare
them.”
“ Oh, I am open to conviction j if you in
trodneemetoa bona fide ghost I’ll give
in. J believe only in the things I under
stand.”
“ Joe, if you only believe in that you
understand, your creed will bo shorter
than that of any man I know.”
“ Can you give me any proof? Can you
mention one instance in which the spectra
has appeared to any one yon know Y‘
“A hundred, if yon wish it,” said tne
o.}4 wan.
“One will do; give us one gonuiue
case and we will believe.”
“ I will; listen. The story that I am
about to relate is an incident that happen
ed to myself some twenty years ago, and
lor the truth of which I would vouch.”
“ Well, proceed,”
uld give v(
“ I would give you the history of the
spectre attached to' the house, but that
only appears to be one of the favored ie\
and 1 have uot seen it, although I ha\
often enough heard the noises it makes.”
“ We should prefer a ghost that can be
seen, if you have over met with one,”
“ You must understand that the village
iu which I lived, like many others, possess
es its spectral visitor. About one hun
dred years ago, an ancestor of mine start
ed for London in his traveling carriage, one
evening, about the latter end of June. He
was an exceedingly Irascible man, and, the
coachman was not sufficiently quick in
preparing the vehicle, he became much
enraged, and used exceedingly passionate
language. For some tirae the coachman
bore his abuses patiently, but, at last, be
lost his temper, and struck the old gen
tleman in the face.
“In those days, every body wore a
sword ; and my ancestor, who was always
ready to draw, snatched his weapon from
his sheath, and, with one blow, severed
,the unfortunate man’s head from his body,
“Conscience-stricken at this tearful
crime, and terrified by the dread of its
consequences, he gazed upon the headless
body for a moment, aud then being seized
with a fit ot apoplexy, was carried into
the house by his servants, where he died
in a few hours.”
“ Well,” said Joe, “although the story
is horrible enough, it has nothing of the
supernatural iu it. it is quite possiblo
that an augry old man may commit a mur
der aud die of fright”
“Yes, you are right; if the tale ended
there, there would be nothing to doubt;
but what I am goiDg to tell you, I am
afraid, will be scoffed at by my skeptical
young friends, who i.i&believe everything
they do not see or hear.”
“ That’s meant for me,” said Joe, with a
laugh. “ Never mind, uucle; go oil witli
your sury.”
“Yes, my boy, now I come to the mar
velous part ot my story. Every year, as
tlie hands of the clock point to the hoiir
ot midnight, a travelling carriage, with
four horses, driven by a headless coach-
mau, leaves that village, aud passes dowu
the Loudou road.”
“ Ho must be clover if he can see to
drive without his head,” interrupted the
still skeptical Joe.
“ That I euunof. explain ; some gbost-
seers say that it : .s possible for people in
clairvoyant state to read from the pit of
the stomach ; at all oveuts, a dead man
may bu possessed of laculties wc do not
understand ; for a man becomes consid
erably altered when he is dead.”
“ He does, I admit.”
“ And if you allow that a dead man can
drive at all, the small matter of a bead
more or Jess is of very little importance.”
‘•Just so.”
“ You know that when a man dies, he
becomes a spirit.”
“ That’s rum,” said Joe.
“ No, sir, it’s not rum, nor whiskey eith
er ; ami, it you cannot listen to my story
without endeavoring to turn it into ridi
cule, I had better lcavo off,” replied Uncle
Ben, who was as peppery as his ancestor.
“Oh ! pray go on, uucie,” exclaimed all
the listeners. “ We’ll try to keep Joe in
order.”
“ Well, as I wassayiug, this apparition
made its appeurauce once a year, as the
clock was striking twelve. Mauy of the
villagers had heard the tramp of horses
and the rattling of wheels as the ghostly
cortege went by. Now and theu some fa
vored individual wituessed the headless
driver, as be whipped his horses ou toward
Loudou. But, in all cases, the coach pass
ed before any one could see whether the old
gentleman was really inside or uot.”
“ Aud did no one ever see him ?’’ asked
one of the party.
“You shall bear. I will confess that,
until the night when the incident which 1
am about to relate took place, I was ns
great an unbeliever as auy of you, and al
ways treated the whole account as an old
woman’s tale, ouiy fit to frighten children.
But, one eveniug, as l sat smoking with
some old friends, one of them, a devout
believer iu everything supernatural, began
to talk about the family legeud, I, as usual,
threw ridicule on tbo whole affair. I hor
rified some of the company by statiug my
intention of venturing out to wander down
the road, aud see if 1 could meet the phan
tom cavalcade. I swore that if I did, I
would ask the old gentleman to give me a
lift, aud offered to bet £500 that the whole
legend was a pack of lies.”
“Anddid you gof’
“ Yes; although some of the more su
perstitious of the party tried to persuade
mo uot to, I persevered, and wandered
out iu the night to meet ghost or goblin.”
“ And did you meet them ?”
“Just as I emerged ]rom the lone, the
village clock chimed the three-quarters,
aud l sat down upon a moss covered mile
stone to wait and watch tor the phantoms
that 1 come like shadows—so depart.’ The
night was chilly, and, as I wrapped my
cloak around me, I began to shudder, as
I wondered if, by any possibility, there
could have been any truth in the strange
story that I bad heard. I gradually felt,
like the man iu the play, that all my cour
age was oozing out at my finger’s ends.”
“ Oh, uncle, afraid!” cried one of the
boys.
“ Yes, my boy, I must confess it, for the
moment I began to wish I was back iu the
comfortable dining-room.
“ Suddenly the clock struck the hour ol
midnight.
“As the last echoes died away, I heard
in the distance a sound like the noise oi a
carriage and horses rapidly approaching.
My blood began to curdle in my veins ; it
carno nearer and nearer; and, at last, I
saw a curious, old fashioned vehicle com
ing toward me at a furious pace.
“ For a moment I was speechless, but,
mustering all my courage, I cried out to
the coachman to stop. He did so, and
then, to my intense surprise, I saw that
bis bead had been severed from the trunk.
The ghostly head lay by his side on tl
coach-box, whioh, perhaps, acoounted f
his beiug able to hear my cries.
“ As tLe carriage stopped be sprang to
the ground, flung open the door, let down
the steps and signed for me to enter. By
tills time my nerves were well bruoed up,
and I jumped in without auy fear.
“Upon entering the coach and tak
ing my seat 1 found myself opposite an
old gentleman who was dressed in the
costume of the commencement of the
reign of George HI. Upon his bead wits
an old-fashioned tie-wig, and in his baud
was a naked sword which was still covor-
ed with blood. His face was of unearthly
K lor, nndbad upon it a sourod, sacred
k, which did not make him a very
pleasant-looking traveling companion.
“ For some time we sat face to- face, aud
when 1 found that he did uot appear to
take the slightest notice of me, I began to
be more at ease. At last I thought it
would be very uncivil to ride in the old
gentleman’s coach without speaking to
him, and I also felt inclined, as I had nev
er before met with a real ghost, to make
his acquaintance. So I, by way of opening
the conversation, said .-
“ A splendid uiglit. sir.”
“The elderly pan.) in the tie-wig made
no reply.
“ In a hurry to get to town, I presume ?
lam very much obliged to you for the
lift.
Still no answer. After this we both
sat for some time in silence; the ghost
seemed buried in thought, and I remained
watching him with great interest. Al
last, the night being chilly for the time ol
year, and the coach'bavinjj about it a pe
culiar atmosphere like that of a vault, 1
began to feel extremely cold.
“ After a while the old geatlemau grew
quite sociable, and began to talk ; he com
plimented me upon my bravery in daring
to stop his carnage. For just one centu
ry he bad, once a year, driven along this
road without meeting any one who had
the courage to ride with him; and, through
me, he would be released from all other
punishment, which wap to last until some
brave fellow accompanied him in his drive
aud conversed with him.
“ For this release he heartily thanked
me, and said that, for lay courage, I should
be lucky to my business speculations;
and, as you are aware, he turned out a
true prophet.”
“Did you talk about any thing else?”
asked Joe.
“ Ob, yes. My old friend had as much
curiosity as a woman,” said Uncle Ben,
who, I need not say, was an inveterate
bachelor. ^“^»had a conversation about
reiguing trastj’Stiff waJmubh disgusted
when I told him that toasts bad gone out
of fashion.”
“ Was that all ?”
“ Oh, uo. He toid me where the best
civit aud pomatum were t be bought, aud
who was the best peruke-maker; and was
still more surprised when I said that no
one wore wigs now, except coachmen aud
lawyers. He asked if traveling was as
dangerous as ever; though he confessed
he had not been much troubled lately by
the knights of the road. He said that one
rode up to stop him twenty-five years be
fore, but the sight of his headless driver
had so trightened him that he put spurs
to his horse aud disappeared, as if he bad
had twenty Bow-street runners at his
heels.”
“Did you notask what became of him
on the other nights oi the year, when he
was notout for liisdrive?”
“He said that, iu company with the in-
uumurable shades wiio were condemned
to occasionally visit the earth for crimes
committed duriug their past lives, he
passed his time hovering round his old
hauuts, louging to become visible to his
descendants, and to assist them iu times
of trouble, but unable to do so. As we
conversed, the time rapidly slipped away;
and at length the lamps of London be
came visible iu the distauce. After thank
ing tlie old man for his courtesy, 1 sug
gested that I might now alight as I had a
great many lrieuds in town that I should
like to visit; but he shook his head.
“ No, no,” said he; “ we are at the
mercy of my coachmau ; he has the en
tire commacd during our drive, and be
will only stop at the place he picked you
up. See, he is turning the horses round:
we are about to return.”
“ It the journey to town seemed short,
the journey back was still shorter. The
old man told me a hundred anecdotes of
the people ot his time. He bad beeu a
staunch Jacobite, and he told me all about
young Cavalier, and painted the “ March
to Fiuchiey” in words that did full justice
to Hogarth’s picture*. The statesmen, wits,
and soldiers of the last century appeared
to stand before me in the flesh, aud I nev
er enjoyed a drive better than the one I
had with my ghostly ancestor.
“ As the cloek struck one, we pulled up
at the moss-covered mile-stone where I
first stopped the coach. Once more
thanking me for tho inestimable favor 1
had done him, the old gentleman signed
to the driver to open the carriage door. I
got out, and, as I turned round tobid him
good-bye, I found that whole cavalcade-
coach, horses, driver, aud old gentleman
bad vanished into thin air, and I was
alone.”
“ Alone ?” exclaimed his bearers.
“ Yes,”jsaid Uncle Bon; “ but the strange
thing was that I became insensible, aud
knew nothing more uutil I was tound the
next morning lying beside the mile-stone.
I thought so. Y’ou fell asleep and
dreamed that you saw the phantom cor
tege,” said Joe.
No, sir, it was no dreatu. When I saw
that carriage, and wheu I rode in it, I was
as much awake ns I am now ; aud when
you are as old as I am, and have seen as
manywoudera, you will be surprised at
nothing, and will own that there are more
thiugs in heaven aud earth than are dream
ed ot in your philosophy.”—Belgravia.
Not a Marrying Girl.
They were seated together, side by side,
ou the sofa, in the most approved lover
fashion; his arm encircling her taper
waist, etc.
“Lizzie,”he said, “you must have read
mv heart ere this ; you must know how
dearly I love you.”
“Yes, Fred; you have certainly been
very attentive,” said Lizzie.
“ But Lizzie, darling, do you love me ?
Will you be my wife !”
“ Your wife, Fred! Of all things, no!
No, indeed, nor any one else’s.”
“ Lizzie, what do you mean f’
“Just what I say, Fred. I’ve two mar
ried sisters.”
“ Certainly! and Mrs. Hopkins aud Mrs.
Skinner have very g<y»d husbands, I be
lieve.”
“ So people say; but I wouldn’t like to
stand iu ueither Mary’s or Nell’s shoes;
that’s alL”
“ Lizzie, you astonish me.”
“ Look here, Fred ; I’ve had over twen
ty-five sleigh rides this winter, thanks to
you and my other gentlemen friends.”
Fred winced a little here, whether at
the remembrance of that unpaid livery
bill, or the idea of Lizzie’s sleighing with
her other gentlemen friends I cannot pos
itively answer.
. “ How many do you think my sisters
have had ? Not the sign of oue, either of
them. Such pretty girls as May and Net-
lie were, too, aud so much attention they
used to have!”
“ Now, Lizzie, I—”
“ I am fond of going to the theatre oc
casionally as well as a lecture or coucert
sometimes, and I shouldn’t like it if 1 pro
posed attending any such entertainmeul
to be invariably toid that times were hard
aud my husband couldn’t afford it, aud
then to have him sneak off alone.”
“Lizzie, Lizzie—”
“ Aud then, if once in a dog’s age he did
condescend to go with me anywhere in
the evening, I shouldn’t like to be left to
pick my way along the slippery places at
the risk of breaking my neck, he walkiug
along uuconsciously by my side. I’m oi a
dependent, ciiugiug nature, aud I ueed tlie
protection of a strong arm.”
“ Lizzie, this is all nonseuse.”
“ I’m tbe youugest iu our family, aud
perhaps I’ve been spoiled. At all events,
1 know it would break my heart to have
my husband vent all the ill temper which
be couceals from the world ou my defence
less head.”
But, Lizzie. I promise you that I—’’
“ Oh, yes, Fred ; I know what you are
going to say—that you will be difiereut;
but Mary aud Nell have told me time aud
again that uo better husbauds than theirs
ever lived, no, Fred; as a lover, you are
just perfect, aud I shall hate awfully to
give you up. Still, you are bent ou mar
rying, tbere are plenty of girls who have
uot married sisters, or who are uot
wise enough to profit by their examples
if they have. Aud don’t fret about me,
for I’ve uo doubt I can find some one to
fill your place—”
But before Lizzie bad concluded, Fred
made fur the door, muttering something
“ uuquestiouable to ears polite.”
“ Tbere !* exclaimed Lizzie, as, the door
closed with a bang. “ I knew he was uo
better than tbe rest. That’s the way
John aud Aleck swear aud slam .the doors,
when thiugs don’t go just right. He’d
make a perlect bear ot a busbaud, but I’m
sorry be came to the point so soou, for he
was just a splendid beau.”
She Didn’t Scare.
A boy who was disappoiuted tbe other
day in makiug a sale ot tinware to a wo
man on Park street, Detroit, muttered
something which excited iter indiguatiou,
and she gave him a great lig piece ol her
rniud. “Jawing back” he said:
“ Your husbaud ought to be arrested for
working ou Sunday!”
“ Working ou Sunday—come here, bub!
Now, bub. if you’il prove that my busbaud
ever worked on Sunday, or any other day
in the week, I’ll give you a dollar ! I’ve
lived with him for twenty years, and have
always had to buy eveu his whiskey and
his tobacco, and now if he’s gone to work
want to know it!”
Tbe boy backed off without auother
word.
Sound Sleep.
It is wonderlul how much may be done
to protract existence by the habitual res
torative ot sound sleep. Late hours under
straiu are of course, incompatible with this
solacomeut. On this topto Dr. Bichardsou
says it has beeu painful to him to traoe tbe
beginnings of pulmonary consumption to
late hours at “ unoarthly balls andevening
parties,” by whioh rest is broken and en
croachments mode on the constitution.
But, he adds, “ If in, middle age the habit
of taking deficient and iipegular sleep be
maintained, every source of depression,
every latent form of disease is quickened
and intensified. Thq sleopless exhaustion
allies itself With alj processes of exhaustion
or It kills imperceptibly, by a rapid intro
duction of premature old age, which leads
directly to premature dissolution.” There,
at once, is an explanation why many peo
ple die earlier than they ought to. They
violate the primary principle of taking
regulnr nights rest. If they sloop it Is dis
turbed. They dream all sorts of nonsense.
That is to say do not sleep soundly, or for
any useful purpose; for dreaming is noth
ing more than wild, imaginative notions
passing through' the brain while halt sleep
ing or dozing. lu dreaming there is no
proper or restorative jest.
A Smart Jewess.
Adolphus Fitzmelou wasa “ smart young
man.” It was his firm conviction that with
tbe opposite sex be was irresistible. Oue
eveuing Fitzmelou was at tbe opera, aud
in au adjoining box he espied a beautiful
young lady without a male attendant. He
nodded to his companions and remarked
that be must make a conquest. So into
the adjoining box he made his way, aud
unceremoniously seated himselt by the
young lady’s side. She looked up iu sur
prise. Adolphus smiled sweetly aud beg
ged pardon; he must have beeu mistaken,
he had thought he recognized iu her an ac
quaintance. She informed him he had beeu
mistaken.
“ Still," veutured Adolphus, “ I hope I
do uot intrude.”
The lady made no reply, bat turned tier
attention to the stage, where a scene was
transpiring iu which she was much inter
ested. At length Adolphus addressed her
again. Turning quickly, she said :
You annoy me, sir,” and her bright eyes
fleshed.
“Blessme!” cried Adolphus, drawing
back with mock terror, “ don’t eat me.”
Tbe lady smiled a sweet, beaming smile
as she replied:
“Bo not alarmed, sir; I am a Jewess,
and my religion forbids me to eat pork!”
Unfortunately for Adolphus bis lrieuds
beard tbe rqjoiuder, and he is uot likely
soon to hear the last of his passage with
the beautiful Jewess.—Manchester {Eng.)
Times.
.uewspapei
sometimes to believe everything he sees
in print. At any rate that’s the way it at
looted us the other day when a 9 year old
boy appealed to our generosity 'by lay lug
before us a catd setting forth iu unshrink
ing double pica that he was a poor widow
and tbe mother of five children
. .Fete was out sawing wood jestenlay
and didn’t come home till rather lato last
night; and while he was passing by au
opou lot,8omeonejumpedoutand said
“Your money or I’ll blow your brains out.”
“ Blow away,” said Pete, “ for 1 might as
well be widout brains as widout money.”
.. Howland Hill said of some of the speak
ers of ins day: “ They have a river of
words, with only a spoonful of thoughts f»
Mr. Potter** A drier. *
Jeremiah Cole, a grand-looking old man
with silver hair aud a long white beard,
sat at bis potter’s wheel. He was a valued
band in the terra-cotta works, tor he fash
ioned the clay skilfully, and his upright
conduct made his employers trust him
entirely. He was usually assisted by two
girls; one turned the wheel, while tht
other, who was called Buth, weighed out
the prepared clay and rolled it into a ball
ready for use. She stood close to Jere
miah, to be at hand to perform any small
services he required.
Ou this morning the old man was mould
ing some verygraceiul vases; it was marvel
ous to see bow soon it came into shape
by a few delicate touches. So absorbed
was he that no words escaped him save:
“ Steady, steady, taster, steady,” to the
girl at the wheel.
“ It’s done now,” he said, as he surveyed
his work admiringly. “Take it off the
wheel, Buth, and put it along with the
others. That makes six finished, so tar as
I am concerned. Six vases waiting tor the
oven; they must be tried iu the fire to
prove them, just like the believer. Thank
God, though, that our light afflictions are
but for a moment. But what’s the matter,
Bath ? You’ve been crying!”
“ Never mind,” she answered, glanciug
hurriedly around.
Jeremiah understood that ho was to bt>
silent, so he pursued bis work until the
dinuer-bell rang. “Now, tell me what
ails you, Buth,” be asked again.
“ My heart will break!” she sobbed ;
“ my heart will break!”
“ Can’t I help you, child f If I can’t, the
Lord can; so we’il ask him together.”
“ No, Jeremiah, I won’t pray; I’m too
sore for that. Father’s ill now, as well as
mother. God doesn’t care lor us, or He’d
have kept us from so much sorrow.”
“Hush! don’t speak rashly. The Lord
has uot forsaken us, but you’re robelliug
against Him. Didn't you tell me a week
ago you had given yourself to God, aud
meant to serve Him with your whole
heart V’
“ Perhaps I did; but it was only because
1 thought God would care for me.”
“Sit down a moment, Buth, and hear
me. We’ve been working together this
morning. You’ve been weighiug out the
clay, which was ready prepared, or it
would uot make a vase. If I’d put red
earth on tbe wheel, it would have blown
abouteverywhere. It was because it came
to you in a prepared state, aud to me in
the exact quantity I needed for my vase,
that I was .able to make it. Child, leuru
your lessen from this. A few days ago,
you said, “ Dear Lord, tram me tor thy
service.” Your heavenly Father is taking
you at your word ; but you rebel, and do
not wish to become a vessel fit for tbe
Master’s use. God is our Heaveuly Potter
He works in us to will and to do of his
own good pleasure, and we must trust
Him. He deals, with us as we deal with
the clay, prepares aud polishes us because
He loves us. Those vases yonder are not
nearly so beautiful as they will be wheu
they’ve passed through the fire three
times, and birds aud flowers adorn tbem.
There are many steps to climb in God’s
school, and the Great Potter must have
laithtul children, who yield themselves to
be lashioucd as He tbiuks best. Don’t be
afraid to trust Him. The Father who spared
uot au only Son with Him will freely give
the best gitts. Go homo aud ask tlie Lord
to help you to say, ‘ Thy will be done.’ ”
Buth took the old man’s advice, and re
turned to her afternoon work with a bright
lace. As she put tbe first lump of clay on
to the wheel, she whispered to the old
potter, -‘God’s will be done.”
“Bless him tor that!” answered Jeremiah,
reverently.—Cottager aud Artisan.
A Bit of Experience.
“ Good uatured editiug,” says some wise
tnau, “spoils hall the papeis iu tho United
Status. “ Yea, verily. “ Will you please
publish the i»oetry I send ?” says one;
is my first effort;” aud some crude lines go
iu to encourage budding geuius.
Our ebureb is iu great peril,” says au
other; “ will you please publish our appeal’
and a loug dolorous plea is inserted.
My father took your paper for twenty
years,” writes another; “ 1 tliiuk you ought
to publish the resolutions passed by ihe
sessions of tbo Big Brake church wheu be
died ;” aud iu goes resolutions of uo inter
est to a majority of the readers.
“ I am particularly anxious chat tbe
views I present should go before thechurch
this week.” Outgo a covey of small pithy
eoutributions to make room tor three col
umns lrom a ponderous D! D.
“There is au immediate uecessity. for tbe
exposure of oue who is a bitter enemy to
the truth,” writes another, as he sends au
attack upou au antagonist which will fill
an entire page.
“ I am about to publish a book identi
fying the great image of brass, iron and
clay, aud I would be obliged to you to pub
lish tlie advauce sheets of the fifth chapter
which I herewith enclose to you.”
“ Why do you uot publish in full li’s
great speech iu the General Assembly.
It would increase your circulation iargely."
“ If you will publish the serrnou* 1 trans
mit to you, I will take eight extra copies.”
“ Tbe church must be aroused on the
subject of foreign missions,” says a pastor
as be forwards the half of bis last Sabbath’s
services. A good-uatured editor surren
ders to them at once, aud they go away
happy, utterly uuconscious that they have
helped to spoil the pajter.—Presbyterian.
Didu’t Stead the Tint.
A youug mao read in tbe paper a few
days'ago that if he wauted to find out it
the womau you had selected for your fu
ture spouse had a good temper, you ought
to take occasion to step on her dress, or
snap the sticks ot her fau, or in some way
annoy or discompose her. “ If,” said tho
great authoiity who presides over the
column of advice, “ she betrays no sign of
ill-temper, she will prove a model of a
wife.” Accordingly, the youug man seiz
ed au opportuiiity, when his sweetheart
was rigged iu her most killing array, to
step ou her train and pull out about three
yards of gathers with a rip like a peal ot
thuuder, exposing about three-quarters ot
the frame work that makes her dress
stick out behind. But, instead of meeting
the accident witli perfect equanimity, she
turned around aud jobbed her partner iu
his eye, called him along-haired leper, and
asked him why he didn't wear bis feet
sideways. He expressed bimseif thanklul
that he didn’t marry the girl before finding
ont what sort of a temper she had; bnt the
doctor does not think his eye will grow
out again.
THE CONDUCT OF LIFE.
Be it good that we do, let u do it.
Giving soul and oar etrength to tbe deed;
Let ns pierce tbe hand rock and pass through it,
And compass the thing that we need.
Does Fate, as a dark cloud hang over.
And cover onr heads from the light?
Does Rate mode tlie heart of tbe lover ?
Must wrong be the victor over right?
Yet, in Fate there is freedom for each one
To make or to mar as he will;
And the bolts of ill fortune that reach one
May maim, but they never shall kid.
Ever onward sod upward pursuing
Tbe aim that is thine for that day,
Adding strength to thy strength by thy doing.
Thou shalt gain it, nor faint by the way.
And though thou art busied with small things.
Though menial thy labor may be,
Do thy utmost in that and in ail things,
Thou still shalt be noble and free.
Dost thou love? let it be with full measure;
Nor mingle with coldness or hate
Of others the joy of thy pleasure.
The passion that crowns thy estate.
Be to every man jnst: and to woman
Be geetie, and tender, and true:
For thine own do thy bes% but for no n
Do less than a brother should do.
So, living thy cays foil to number.
In peace thou ahalt pass to the grave;
Thou shat lie down and rest th: e and slumber,
Beloved by the good and the brave.
—Tinsley's Magazine.
Wasn’t That Kind of a ‘
Feeder wanted here!” It was only
tbe card of a job printer inscribed on a
sign on Clark street. But be didn’t take
it that way. He wasn’t a printer. He
bad Dever jobbed nor slugged. He had
never even ‘ ‘pied.” The hour was 2 p. m.,
and stilt no breakfast had looked him iu
the iace. The hinges ot the knees threat
ened to buckle on him. He bad never
tried stays for bis waist, but had for bis
stomach, and still it asked for its daily
bread.
W-a-n-t-e-d a teeder, do ye V he mur
mured, as he looked at the card. “ Wbat
kind ot a lay-out is here? I’m yer man—
hardly think ye’ll want me ag’in though.”
All this while ascending the rear stairs.
Ouce at the top, ho looked in. There was
a whirl, a rattle, but uot a suit! of cookery.
Uo was sharp ou “ sniffs,” he had dined
and supped ou “sniffs,” he had gone to rest
with a surfeit of “ suiffs; hut it was played
out now. This place where a feeder was
so badly wanted was suiffless.
“ Well, sir,” said the laconic iumate, who
gets his regular meals, aud don't kuow
tbat he’s a favored son of fortune. “ Well,
sir!”
I understand you want a feeder here,”
faintly remarked the climber.
“ We do.”
“ Ah!”
“ Did you ever feed a press ?”
“ If the press would just as lief, and could
wait, I’d like to press a teed.”
“ Guess you don’t understand the bus
iness.”
What business? Feeding? Jist try me
“ Look at that pile of paper,” said the
expert.
“ Could you feed that through the press?”
“ And that’s all there is in ir, aye
“ That’s all.”
“ It’s too durned thm.”
“ Yes, it’s thin work; but I guess she’ll
snatch ’em.”
“ I’d like to be snatched bysome wittles-
mill,” said tho climber. “Good day; but
ye might hev made that keerd say wheth
er it’s paper or wittles you wanted a feeder
for.”
Two Bootblacks.
A day or two ago, during a lull iu busi
ness, two little bootblacks, oue white aud
oue black, were staudiug at the corner do
ing nothing, wheu the white bootblack
agreed to black the biack bootblack’s
boots. Tbe black bootblack was ot course
willing to have bis boots blacked by his
fellow bootblack, aud the bootblack" who
bad agreed to black the black bootblack’s
hoots weut to work.
Wheu the bootblack had blacked one
of the black bootblack’s boots ’till it shoue
iu a manuer th it would make auy boot-
black proud, this bootblack, who had
agreed to black the black bootblack's
boots, refused to black tbe other boot of
the black bootblack uutil the black boot-
black, who had eonseuted to have the
white bootblack black his boots, should
add five ceuts to the aiuouut the white
bootblack had made blackiug other meu’s
boots. This tbe bootblack, whose boot
had beeu blacked, refused to do, saying it
was good enough for a black bootblack to
have oue boot blacked, aud he didu’t care
whether the boot that the bootblack hadn’t
blacked was blacked.
This made the bootblack who had black
ed the black bootblack’s boots as angry as
a bootblack often gets, aud h9 vented his
black wrath by spittiug upou the blacked
boot oi the black-bootblack. This roused
the latent passions of the black bootblack,
aud he proceeded to boot the white boot-
black with the boot which the white
bootblack bad blacked; a tight ensued
iu which the white bootblack who had re
fused to black the unblacked boot ot the
black bootblack, blacked the black boot
black’s visiouary orgau, aud iu which the
black bootblack wore all the blacking off
his blacked boot in booting tho white
bootblack.
Wu^ side (Gatherings.
Lying about a politician never hurts the
mau lied about. It is having the truth
told that kills him.
..‘Iam trying to preach the milkof the
world!’ said a clergyman to a parishioner
who had complained of the leugih ol his
sermons. ‘ Yes,’ replied the unbeliever,
‘ but around here wnat we want is con
densed milk.—.Ex’.
..‘It was simply an iuforuuil affair,’
wrote the editor, of a little strawberry
party, at a neighbor's house. ‘It was sim
ply au iuftrual affair,’ read the compositor,
aud that editor will uever get any more
iuvitations lrom that quarter.
...IVby isa I a l bill like a had swimmer!
Because ircanuot contend with the current.
...What is the difference between a
church organist and the influenza? One
stops the nose aud the other knows the
stops. <
..Why isa vain youug lady like a con
firmed drunkard ? Because neither of them
is satisfied with a moderate use of the
glass.
Hope—a sentiment in tlie wugoia dog’s
tail when waiting for a bone.
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