Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

ek. Sawtnah wwmie. V ’ a 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.