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ek. Sawtnah wwmie.
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FuMUhftJ bv the Tbiwkb Pnblishinc Co. 1
J. H. Muuav V
vol. ni.
A Stor/ 6 in Verso.
“Thanksglvii^g! —for what?”
• —and he muttered a curse—
“For the plainest of food
and an empty purse;
For work
and the shabbiest clothes?
But it's idle talk
. of a poor man's woes!
Let the rich give thanks,
it is they who can;
There isjiothing in life
for a laboring man.”
So said John White
to his good wife Jane,
And o*er her face
stole a look of pain.
• “Nothing, dear John?”
and he thought again;
Then glanced more kindly
• down on Jane.
“I was wrong,’’ he said:
“I’d forgotten you;
And I’ve my health,
and the baby, too."
And the baby crowed—
'twas a bouncing boy—
And o’er Jane's face
came a look of joy:
And she kissed her John
as he went away;
And he said.to himself
as he worked that day;
“I was wrong, very wrong;
I'll not grumble again,
I should surely be* thankful
for baby and Jane."
'. MRS. SHINGLE’S DINNER
V A THANKSGIVING sTOKY.
“Uxor," said Mrs. Penelope Shingle
on the day before Thanksgiving, “our
girl thinks she would like to go out to
* epend the day to-morrow, and we are to
have no company I thought I could
cook our little turkey and I told her so.
I-suppose there is no objection to her
going?’’ and Mrs. Shingle passed her
cot a saucer of cream.
Mr. Shingle, by repeated bending
'< back and forth, like one often tries to
part a wire, was trying to break in two
la piece of the hired girl’s toast; but he
paused end looked up. Seeing that his
wife was in earnest, he simply remarked:
“"Very well, my dear, as you please,"
md -went on with his work of the toast’s
, disintegration.
t- “I will have the turkey basted and
e She.oyster stuffing cooked to-night, you
mow, dear, so that all I will have to do
to-morrow is simply to put the turkey in
;he oven, ’keep it there an hour, and
5-cat the stuffing on top of the stove,
.he vegetables I know I can cook
I’cely. I must broil the cranberries
ibout an hour before the turkey goes
Into the oven, the girl tells me, and the
Celery simply wants to be warmed on
‘ e back plate of the range. Yes, she
told me about that. I think I can get
ilong very nicely, dear, if you don’t
:ome home too early. You must give
me till about 5."
“All right, Dollie,” said Mr. Shingle,
is he finally tore his toast apart, “but
do you think you can get the dinner up
’ tout help?”
‘Certainly, Uxor; why not?"
'There is no reason, of course, my
dear,” said Mr. ShingU, gallantly. “I
have no doubt it will be a glorious meal.
I was ihinking, from a description
of your nwn plan, that might
needed. Do you remember that beau
tiful break last you were once ,r oin rp to
get up for me with your own two pretty
hands? It was a little breakfast for your
mamma and me. and the piece de rcsist
. ance was to be broiled kidneys. Ire
member, if you do not. Low bravely you
sallied out in your new sealskin to give
* your own order, and I remember how
fhg butcher laughed when you tripped
in and asked the of flesh if he had
an" sheep’s ‘gizzards.’ The man, with
brutality of moot butchers, retorted
’ t' at he had not, but he did have some
chicken porterhouses, which was the
same thing and you told him to send up
four. . Do you remember that, dear?"
y “Now, I just don’t care. I tried to
do the be—best—and—and—” (snuffle.)
“There, there," said Mr. Shingle,
WOfhingly. “I didn't mean to say any
thing to hurt you. There, there. Now,
as to this dinner to-morrow. Are you
going to cook it
SAVANNAH, GA.. SATURDAY. NOVEMBER 12,1887.
Mr. Shingle said “No, 1 will not humil
iate Penelope. I will go alone to my
doom. Turkey in the oven, oyster
stuffing cooked last night, cranberries i
soliloquized Mr. Shingle, “wo
shall See what we shall see."
Mrs. Shingle had announced that din
ner would be ready at three o’clock.
Her order to make sure of it,
arrived at 2.30. “Oh! my darling, I
am so glad you have ,^‘ome, ’’ exclaimed
Mrs. S. “I am fixing up such a lovely
little dinner. But, dear, there is no oil ;
in the house, no pepper,no vinegar. I’ve
searched everywhere, and if the girl has 1
them I don’t know where she keeps
them. Please go out and get some.”
“But all the stores are closed, dear;
’ there is nothing to be had now. Better J
let your—what is it you want oil for?
Lettuce? Oh, lettuce is out of season.
Let it go. How about the turkey?”
“Well, it’s in the oven. 1 have the
stuffing here. Doesn’t it look nice? I I
suppose 1 ought to have put the liver
and gizzard with the stuffing, but it’s i
just as well perhaps to have them tn the
roast pan. That’s the way the girl told
me to do. This pan? Those are my
potatoes. To save time I boiled them '
with their skins on. Don’t they look
nice? Oh, yes; and here’s a dish of
■ rice. The girl told me to cook it quick
and hard, but I’m afraid I’ve got it too
starchy. However, I guess we can eat
! it. Now, dear, you sit down and read
I your paper, and Kitty and I will put on i
dinner, won’t we, pet?" and with this
Mrs. Shingle stooped to stroke her cat.
When the dinner came on Mr. Shingle
buried his face in his napkin and said
• nothing. He even projected a four-
■ horse power smile across the table, and
! congratulated Mrs. Shingle on her mar- •
velous success. Tin u he cut oil the
bird’s clatw. severed the feathered head
i and neck from the body, carved the un«.
dulating bosom of the fowl, and applied
some of the stuffing from the adjacent
j vegetable dish. Then he gravely put
; some of the broiled and dried-up cran
berries on a side dish, and with a “jack-
! eted” potato as a garnishment passed to I
Mrs. Shingle her portion. While Mrs.
S. was cutting up her cat’s dinner she '
went chattering on:
“I think it is so nice, dear, to be able
to eat one’s own dinner, cooked by one’s
| self. It is such a comfort to know that :
you are independent of these wretched
i girls. Don’t you think so? Why, what’s
the matter?"
Mr. Shingle had by this time shaved
off a slice of turkey bosom, and was ;
endeavoring to make away with it. IfM
was very dry, and his face seemed to
i reveal something. “Dear,” he said, did ’
anybody ever tell you that the place for
a turkey stuffing was inside the turkey,
not on a vegetable dish?”
‘Why, no? The girl simply said pre
i pare your stuffing so an<l so—who said
! it was to go inside?"
“Nobody; my mother used to do it
that way,” said Mr. Shingle meekly,
| all.”
Here Mrs. Shingle began to bristle up,
i and she remarked, “Well I wish your
j mother had been then to cook this tur
key.”
; “Poor, dear soul, so do I,” replied Mr.
Shingle filially.
Mrs. S. looked at her liege, but hardly
I knew how to take the remark.
“Now, dear," pursued the gentleman, i
j “how do'you like fussing and cooking,
' anyhow ?”
By this time Mrs. Shingle had begun
her own dinner. She nibbled at her bit .
of turkey, she tasted the dressing, she
toyed wish the broiled cranberries and ’
buttered up her potato. Then she said
after a moment, rather softly, “Uxor.”
“What, dear?”
| “Do you know somehow this doesn’t
seem to taste right. I wonder if I could
have made a mistake?”
“Oh, no. Everything is just right. I
I dare say. But don’t you think that it is j
a good deal of trouble to get up a meal
like
and you look wearied and worn; and ,
after all you see it isn’t a success. And |
so I think once more that perhaps you '
had better give up the cares of house- ■
keeping. I wouldn’t for the world ha o ;
i you go through such an ordeal agal .
i Next Thanksgiving we’ll have our Th|t . - ‘
giving somewhere else—perhaps at the
Palmer House - but never again, dear,
shall I permit you to enslave yourself
t over a kitchen range on such a family
holiday.” And as Mrs. S. put her sob
bing face on her husband’s shoulder Mr.
8. lifted his eyes to the ceiling and
whispered under his breath in his slangy
i way, “You can just bet your sweet life
you don't make such a fool of yourself
again."—[Chicago Herald.
A BELL PUNCH.
I «
I Deacon Sharpley’a Lawn Mower, and
the Way it was Used.
[From the Boston Transcript.]
“1 tell you what,” said a suburban
i friend of the listener, as the street car
' conductor came around bearing a par
ticularly big and imposing bell punch,
“there is a deacon in our church that
| ought to be made to carry one of those
I things when he makes his collections, if
j ever anybody ought to be made to wear
one."
i “Why? What has the deacon done?”
“I’ll tell you the wittie story, and
when I’ve done I want to¥now whether
if it had happened to it wouldn’t
, have eonfidlnce in some
; body. '.You see, 1 live irext door to
Deacon Shaploy, and my yaM is sepa
i rated from his just by a light picket
fence. I was whacking away’ at the grass
< on iny little lawn the other night with a
grass hook; I was just finishing the job,
and wondering whether I should ever be
rich enough to swell out with a lawn
■ mower, when the deacon came out and
1 leaned over the fence. ‘See here,’ said
he, ‘you’re getting quite a lawn here,
and so am I. We don’t either of us have
quite enough business for a lawn mower,
but together we might have. Say we go
snucks on one ?’ I told him that I
thought it was a good idea, and would
go in with him on a machine. Ho said
he would manage the purchase, and
would tell me how much half the cost
was. Sollethim go on and buy the
la n mower, and he brought a receipt
ed bill for $12.50 in his own name. I
gave him the $6.25, and left the machine
and the receipt in his hands.
“About two weeks after that—l’d seen
the deacon shoving the- lawn mower
around in his yard in great style in the i
meantime—l thought my grass had got
up enough to wari ant cutting, and went
over to the deacon’s to get thg machine.
The deacon was out, they aatd, but the
lawn mower was down Smith's.
I thought it was a litthr queer that the
deacon had lent our machine, but I went
down to Mr. Skill’s and got it. I ,
thought they looked a little cross when
I took it, but I took it just the same and
mowed my lawn. Next night the dea- i
con came and got it again and mowed
away a while in his back yard. A few
days after that I thought it was about
time to mow once more, and went over
to the deacon’s after the machine. No
machine anywhere around. I asked at
“the back door—
“ ‘Where’s the lawn mower?
“ ‘Mr. Smith came and got it a little
while ago,’said the deacon’s daughter.
“Mr. Smith! What business had he
with our machine? I didn’t ask, but I
trotted down to Smith’s. I found Smith
very complacently oiling the lawn
mower, and apparently getting it ready
for action.
“ ‘Well,’ said I,‘l canrte over after that
lawn mower; but as you seem to be get
ting ready to use it, I suppose I can
wait.’
“ ‘Hum,’ said he, ‘I guess the deacon
and I keep it pretty busy.’
“ ‘So it seems,’said I, kind of sarcasti
cally.
“‘Well, we have got our money’s
worth out of it, you know,’ says he.
“That struck me as a mighty queer
remark, and I couldn’t help saying, ‘I
should think you’d want to get one
yourself.’
“ ‘ Well,’ says lie looking up a little
surprised, ‘I own half of this one.’
“‘You—yon own half of this?’says I,
astonished.
“‘Why, certainly,’ said he; ‘Deacon
Sharpley and 1 bought this lawn mower
1 together.’
“I tell you that took me completely
I down. The deacon had completely
played us off, one against the other, and
has” got me to pay for one half the
machine, and Smith the other, calculat
ing to get the use of it to mow all his
own grass for nothing. If he had been
as cautious as he was sharp, and kept
i the machine in his own barn, or else in
stead on going after it himself, I suppose
he might have k*pt agoing that way.
i But since we’ve found it out, Smith and
I get along first rate, but the dbacon
I has to hire an Irishman to mow hi -
grass with a scythe.
‘And that’s the reason why I flunk
the deacon ought to carry a bell punch
' when lie takes up a collection. Don’t
| yon think it would be a good scheuttt”
A nightly gargle of salt and water will
j strengthen the throat and keep off bron
‘ clual attacks.
.lonmailsm in Japan.
Journalism is making rapid progress,
although the largest daily m Japan has
not more than twenty thousand subscri
bers, says a letter to the (Kobe-Demo
crat. In Tokio there are five leading
dailies, besides over a dozen of less im
portance. The (Jiji Shimpo) Tunes is
undoubtedly the best edited newspaper
in this country, and next to it comes the
Tokio Daily News, a semi-official organ.
Among recent successful papers may be
noted the Friend of the People, edited
, by a young politician, who promises to
i become one of the most powerful ad
! vocates of the people in the Parliament,
i which is to Ixs established in 1890.
I Among the papers of the central and
! southern provinces tha Osaka Morning
i Sun deserves mention as having <ho
largest circulation of any journal in
Japan. In a Japanese newspaper Impe
rial ordinances, new laws and gegula
! tions come first; then the editors (one
‘ only); then local ami foreign telcjacams,
i domestic’and foreign paragraphs Arre
! apondence, mail notices and time-tallies,
. and finally one meager page of adver- ,
tisements. Only one daily paper in the ;
Empire gives more than four pages of ■
mental pabulum to its subs«*ribers. Os
1 illustrated papers there is quite a large
number; but they are invariably com- i
monplace, given to slangy expressions,
' sensational sketches, and more than
questionable personal remarks.
‘•To, Grin I.ike a Uhesliirc Cat."
The county of Chester gave origin to
the saying, “to grin like a Cheshire (
: eat," which is still in vogue in many
? districts of the north of Eng
land, says a writer in All j
, the Year Round. Several ae
i counts have been given as to the birth
jof this suggestive phrase. One, j
i which appears to be the more plausible, !
I asserts that the wild cat continued to in- .
i habit the peninsula between the De and
! Mersey long after it had disappeared
from other parts of the country. The
face and the mouth of the animal, were
very wide, and the “grin" was so ex
ceedingly formidable that it may easily
be imagined how the saying “To grin
like a Cheshire cat,’’ came to be a com
mon one among the peasantry.
It is also said to have arisen i
i from the fact that Cheshire 1
cheeses were, at some distant period
made in the form of the cat indigenous
jto the county. We are told that the
1 cheeses were embellished with whiskeiw
and tails and we may suppose that their
mouths were accorded a sufficiently wide
grin to give the cue to the saying.
Baptism of Beils.
To those who are interested in the
baptism of bells the following may be of
■ interest. Un June 30th of the present
year the ceremony of baptism was per-
I formed on the colossal bell which had
been cast for and has since been hung in
Cologne Cathedral. The bell itself is
made from twenty two cannon taken in
*
‘ the late war with Erance, given by Em
peror William for the purpose, and is
called in consequence “The Emperor’s
bell.” On the occasion referred to the
Archbishop mixed some salt and wat<r
and blessed the fluid. Tlgm besprinkled
some of it on the bell, while his helpers,
1 mounted on ladders, completed the op
erations. Then seven signs of the cross
were made upon the outside and four
on the inside with holy oil. These things
done, the ceremony was completed by
burning myrrh and other odors of in
cense below the bell.—[New York Hcr
aid.
The Ugliest.
The ugliest man in the known world
is an Eastern Prince. Conscious of his
misfortune,no looking glasses were hung
in his palace. Visiting a neighboring
Prince, the ugliest of men was accomjMc
uied by his Vizier, and they came face
to fuco with a m irror, when both burst
1 into tears. “Moderate your grief, my
faithful friend," said the Prince, “you
see I am quite resigned.”
“Ob’ It is not that, my noble mas-
I ter,” replied the Vizier. “You have"*
only seen yourself »>r a single
| I have to look at you cwy
[Figava. ♦
n.a • .
(•1.25 Per An»uin; 75 cento for Six Months;
< 50 cents Three Months; Single Copies
I 5 oentovln Advance.
An “Electric” Fr»nd.
Johnny Norton, who a few years age |
was pretty well known all over tin 1
country as the boy," i» #
working in New York City as a composi
tor. In reply to the query of a Sun r&jgr;
piuter as to what had become of hW*
elwßricity, he said: “That was one of
the best ••fakes" of the time, and there
i was lots of money in it too. When 1
' was on exhibition i was enclosed in an
! oblong stall about seven or eight feet
long, the front of which was like a nar
row counter. t Opposite the counter wss
a rail which allowed the visitors to pass
in single tile. A long strip of cocoa mat
ting served as a carpet for the passage
way, and also ns a cover for a sheet of
zinc which extftided beneath it, running
the length of the stall. My box was 8
similarly invested with sine and matting.
Atlaeheil to the sheets of metal, hut hid
den from view, where the two poles of a
galvanic battery, one under my feet and
the other in the passage. Now anyone
passing over the sine and touching
me, behind the counter, coiupleted
the circuit and received a shock. So
did I, The matting, of course, had to
be kept damp, water being the con
ductor. It was surprising what intelli
gent people were duped by this trick.
! WBy, I was kept shaking hands and
being fingered from morning until night.
Many’s the $2 note 1 received from doc
i tors and others for a couple of drojis of
my blood for analysis. In fact, my arms
were covered with scars made by scien
tific dupes boring for my electric gore.
i One evening three or four young stu
dents came in to unmask me. One of
them made a wager tba,t he would elec- :
tril'y the audienco the same way if ho
was in the box. I immediately invited
him m and he accepted the challenge.
; I then retired, but before doing so I
pressed a hidden button that cut off my
wire, lie, of', cour-e, failed, and igtMH; |
miniously retreated after being guyed
unmercifully by those present. This
proved me genuine to the satisfaction of
everyone in that town and 1 became fa
mous. There was lots of tun in the bust
news, but I had to give it up, as the con
stant strain caused by the battery was
too much for me.”
How People Brown.
Edward Horn, an employe of the t)e
troit Ferry Company ami the saver of
sixty-four lives, has related a few of tlip
characteristics of a drowning persotk
“1 believe I can tell just by the clutch,?
how many times a drowning person ha» 1
been down. The first trip down thpy ,
go for you with a firin, decided clutch
that means they still known what they *
are about. The second immersion causes ,
a shaky, uncertain grip, which can be
easily broken if you so choose. It is the
last time down that the grasp becomes a
i convulsive bewildered one, and but
few swimmers can save a person aftar
the unfortunate man has descended for
the third time. Almost invariably the;
drowning man, on his final journey be
low the water, will seize his preserver
by the legs. It seems to be a law ul
nature, aud one 1 cancot accomit for) ,
I It would be easier to ■“ave a whole river
full of nu n thin one dvowning w»»maa<
' The odd feature of the Jatters struggle
in the water is that she will seize your
hands if she can get hold of one or.
• both of them. A woman will drown
‘ quicker than a man. 8h«- open.s her
mouth from the time she tirst strikes the
water, and never closes it, and so ivies
her senses more easily. Yes, 1 >iw ‘
person die of strangulation whil< ‘wc
were under water tO'—Gier. 18/ 4cs,
J? • * ' '
were wonderfully fascinating* he
i stared helplessly at me. You idW. uo
' Believe it, but they shone like
i < ’ rc *” n W
Didn't Hold S';illJ|?'•'
Judge (to Pst, who laid
for beating Mikei W'q 'yog , fed
pound him. didn’t
Pat V-. utu
on the nose, tin: ugiie-’t 5
I face. *
J udgg i ni.« i■. id i u •
. Just I’".*, st hii s
. sb . .
NO. 4.