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fflhe C i'iuiiiiiu'ih ©ribniw. Published br the Tbtbukb Publishtag 00. | J. H. DEVEAUZ. Mjuuo» / VOL. LIL Old Saws in Rhyme. An honest confession is good for the soul; As thin as a rail, or as black as a coal. A hen that is setting will never grow fat; As wise as an owl or as blind as a bat. As the twig first is bent so the tree is in clined ; As many opinions as people we find. Bettvc wear out than rust out; the under dog kick; Empty wagons make most noise; Tom, Harry and Dick. A lick and a promise; ill news travels fast; If you’re not rich at forty your chances are past. The harder the storm is the sooner its over; Be just before generous; living in clover. After storm comes the calm; it takes two to fight; Blessings all brighten when taking their flight. Between hay and grass; there are tricks in each trade; A game’s never won till the end of it’s played. Every man’s his own doctor; clothes bor rowed don't fit; Brevity always the soul is of wit. Birth may be good, but good breeding is more; Afraid of his shadow; don’t stick in your oar. Poverty makes for us bedfellows strange; Hanging’s too good for him; sweet is revenge. Never swap horses while crossing a stream; Always by contraries goeth a dream. By rogues falling out honest men get their dues; By distance enchantment is lent to the view. Jack of all trades but a master of none; Conscience makes cowards of everyone. There’s nothing so bad it cannot be worse; To some people money is only a curse. Unadorned beauty the most is adorned; Home’s where the figart is;forearmed is fore warned. There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip; The little leaks often will sink a big ship. Blood’s thicker than water ; all cry and no wool; A proud heart is made by a stomach that’s full. Many go out to shear and come home again shorn; All’s not gold that glitter’s; a man’s made to mourn. It takes two a bargain to make; sour grapes, Taxes and death are what no one escapes. —[H. C. Dodge in Detroit Free Press. THE CAPTAIN’S WIFE. The right wing of Sherman's army was only a few miles from Blue Rock, a mountain village in Georgia. The simple villagers felt little alarm. Blue Rock was the point of no strategic importance to either the Federals or the Confederates. One fine morning in the early spring John Dickson started out from the little hamlet to visit his farm, only a mile or two distant. Dickson was a young man, but a chronic lameness ha 1 secured his exemption from military service, and as he had a wife and two children entirely dependent upon him, he regarded his disability as a blessing. Still, he was astrong Confederate, and on this particular morning, while he was limping slowly along the rough country road, he paused more than once to listen with a frowning face to the sullen boom of Saerman s guns, several miles away. “I am not able to do much fighting,” he muttered, “but if they come to Blue Rock and cut up any I’ll kill some of them if I have to die for it!” He meant what he said. This quiet young farmer had plenty of grit when he was put to the test. The walk tired him, and he left the road and stretched himself in a grassy place under the shade of a sturdy old oak. He threw himself on his back and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up into the green foliage above him. A queer expression flitte 1 over his face, but his gaze remained fixed upon one point. In a careless way he raised hi hand to his face, and stroked his moustache. Then the hand wandered down over his vest toying with each button. At last it slipped downward to SAVANNAH. GA.. SATURDAY. DECEMBER’.#!.IBB-7. a hip pocket, and reappeared as quick as & flash of lightning, this time with a pistol aimed upward. “Now, you come down,” said Dick son gruffly. “Ha! ha!” laughed some one up in the tree. “You have found me, have you?” The laugh surprised and irritated Dickson. His keen eyes had discovered a fellow with a blue uniform sitting on one of the topmost limbs of the tree. It had flashed into his head that it would be an easy matter to capture him, and march him into Blue Rock. And now the rascal was laughing at him! “Yon’ll grin on the wrong side of your mouth pretty soon,” said Dickson. “I mean business. Don’t you know that you are my prisoner?” “Well, no,” was the cool reply, “I hadn’t thought of it in that light. In fact, I was under the impression that you were my prisoner, and I was won dering how to dispose of you.” “Confound you!” roared the r young farmer. “If you don’t come down at once I’ll shoot!” “See here, my friend,” answered the soldier, “you don’t understand the situation.” * “O, Idont!” shouted Dickson. “No, where arc your eyes? Take a good look, but don’t move.” Thus appealed to, Dickson allowed his eyes to run over the soldier’s entire figure. He gave a start of surprise. The Federal held in his right hand a revolver aimed at the man on the ground. “I have had you covered ever since you came here,” said the man in the tree. “And what do you think of doing?” asked Dickson in a tantalizing way. “I am going to shoot if you try to get up, or if you cock your pistol,” was th response; “but I expect to persuade you to drop your weapon and go off to the top of that hill yonder.” “You are a fool!” shouted Dickson. “Don’t you know that somebody from town will come along soon and help me capture you?’’ “And don’t you know,” replied the other, “that some of our cavalry are coming this way, and may be here any moment?” Dickson studied the face above him. It was a dark, clear-cut, handsome face, very youthful and pleasant in its expres sion. “Why, you are a boy, ain’t you?” was his next question, as he took in the lithe, willowy form. “Never mind what I am; my captain is satisfied with me, and that is enough.” “ You had better drop your pistol and come dowm. I’ll see that you are treated well.” “Thanks. Hadn’t you better lay down your weapon and march over that hili, and go home to your wife and children, if you have any? I am not particularly anxious to have our boys come along and capture you.” The frank and fearless eyes looking into Dickson’s had a kind look, and the angry farmer found that his wrath was gradually melting. After all,he thought, there would be little glory in capturing this bo; soldier. And then the fellow’s ! story might be true. If the Federals 1 were coming in that direction it was ' time for good Confederates to hie out. ! “What are you doing here, anyhow?’’ . he asked. “I slipped in Blue Rock last night,” | was the answer, “and some of your peo ple chased me out. “My horse was shot and 1 had to take to the woods. I climbed up here to be safe until our cavalry came along.” “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” broke in Dickson, I don’t much want to take you prisoner, and I don’t want to shoot you. On the other hand, I’ll admit that I have no fancy for being shot myself. But I’m not going to throw down my pistol. I will get up and go to town and when your crowd comes, if it comes | at all, you may expect a hot reception if you are not too many for u . ’ There was a pause for a moment, and then the soldier in the tree spoke. “All right, I’ll trust you,” ho said. “Go ahead and I'll take no advantage of you. But you may expect to see me in Blue Rock before night.” “We’ll take care of Blue Rock,” de fiantly responded Dickson. “Well, I’m off. Good-bye I” And he rose to his feet, and walked off as briskly as he CQuld. He scorned to look back. If the federal was mean enough to break his word and fire, it was all right. But his heart bumped against his ribs until he had placed 100 yards between him and the tree. When the blue jackets swarmed into the village that afternoon the score or two of male inhabitants saw that re sistance was useless against such a force. “The captain sent me to guard your property,” said a soldier, as he paused in front of Dickson’s door. “I am obliged to him,’’ replied Dick son, “but I don’t see why.” The man went on duty, and the little family passed the night undisturbed, and with the feeling that they were se curely protected, “The captain requests you to come to his head quarter’s !” This message made Dickson a little nervous when it was delivered to him the next morning. His wife could not conceal her alarm. “There is nothing wrong,” the messen ger assured her. “The captain’ merely desires to see your husband a moment.” There was nothing to do but to go. Dickson quieted his wife, and proceeded to the dwelling indicated to him as the cap tai n’s head qu arte rs. “Glad to see you, Mr. Dickson,” the captain remarked with a peculiar smile, “My wife wishes to thank you for your courteous and sensible conduct yester day.” “Your wife!” exclaimed the farmer. And then he saw what had escaped his notice, that there was a lady in the room. A very charming little lady, Dickson thought. She looked fresh and bright in her simple traveling dress, and her curly hair, cut short like a boy’s, gave her a roguish look. The lady’s face was strangely familiar, and when the astonished Confederate gazed into her eyes he recognized her. “You were the soldier in the tree!” ho cried. “The same,” admitted the captain’s wife with a laugh. “You see,” exclaimed the captain, “my wife would come down to see me in camp, and she would wear a soldier’s uniform. She is a headstrong little thing, and I had to yield, but after her adventure of yesterday 1 have persuaded her to return home. War is a bad thing, my friend, if the ladies are to go soldiering.” By this time Dickson felt perfectly at home. His hosts were in such a jolly, good humor that it was contagious and the visitor spent a delightful half hour. The Federals did not hold Blue Rock long. They moved off with the main body of the army but before they left the captain’s adventurous wife had been shipped home by her husband. “Queer things happen in war times,” was Dickson’s comment on the affair when he spoke of it afterward to his friends, “and I tell you it is a wonder that the captain’s wife didn’t capture me and inarch me off. She is a daisy, if there ever was one!”—[Atlanta Consti tution. A Deer Conquers a Bear. That peacefully disposed young bear which Thomas Strong presented to the city is kept chained in the deer paddock at the city park. The other day it broke its chain and started in to have a venison dinner. It ran after the deer til! the young buck turned on it and combed its fur with his horns and kicked it on the snout and made the blood run, and finally the bear imitated Zucchen- and climbed a tree, while the Luck stood guard at the bottom with fire in his eyes and frothing at the mouth with rage. The brief association of that bear with the colony at Mfctlakahtla it seems dhl not eradicate all the savage nature of the brute. But it will prob ably wait till it is bigger before it tries to eat that buck again. —[ Portland Ore gonian. Blessing-, are strewed like flowers in our pathway ; it rests with us to gather them up carefully or pass them by. < Making Stick Candy. A contributor to the American An alyst says, in an article on the mysteries of candy making: Sugar is bought by the ton, starch and glucose in large quantities, cocoanuts by the car load, besides cochineal, prepared fruits, etc. The business may properly be divided into two general branches the making of stick candy and of the various fancy kinds. The most interesting branch by all odds is the first mentioned, and is as much of a revelation when seen for the first time as glass-blowing. The mix ture, after boiling, is thrown in a plastic state on large stone slabs, where it runs out flat into thick sheets. These sheets are repeatedly picked up, doubled over and kneaded together until they become of the right consistency, when they are rolled into one immense cylinder of a grayish color. A narrow strip of the same mixture, colored red with cochineal, is laid along one side of the larger piece and adheres to it. Little strips of a shade made whiter by pull ing are also laid lengthwise, and all around that cylinder equal distances apart. This gives an immense stick of soft, gray candy, with one big red stripe and several white ones, all run ning lengthwise on it. A man with a pair of gloves on takes hold of this and pulls it out the whole length of the long table, at one end of which it lies, runs his closed hand along the sugar rope thus made with such dex terity as to m ike it perfectly round an I of the exact size hi wishes, twists the rope once or twice to make the stripes run round it, and, presto, there is a stick of candy long as a fishpole. All this is done as quick as a wink, the long,pliant ropes squirming into place like snakes under the magician’s hand, until the whole table is covered with them. When they arc cool they are cut into the right length with a peculiar pair of shears. The Czar's Son. Michael, the third son of the Russian emperor, is in the naval service. Some thing more than a year ago, when hold ing the rank of a midshipman, the flag ship in which ho was serving was wrecked on the coast of Denmark. The admiral ordered the life-boats to be low ered, and directed Michael to take charge of the first one. The royal mid shipman declined to obey. “I am your commanding officer, and I order you into the boat!” cried the ad miral. “I cannot obey you,” returned the prince. “It would not become a son of the emperor to be the first to leave the ship. I shall remain with you till the last.” “But I shall put you under arrest for disobedience, as soon as circumstances will allow me.” “I mean no disobedience, but I can not obey,” persisted Michael. In due time the crew, with the ex ception of four or five men, reached the shore in safety, and the last to leave the vessel were the admiral and Duke Michael. Then as soon as temporary shelter was obtained, therigi I discipline of naval life was resumed, and the young prince was placed under arrest for dis obedience to orders. The Russian Minister at Copenhagen, being at once informed of the facts, tele graphed them to the emperor, and re ceived from him the following reply: “ I approve the act of the admiral in placing the midshipman under arrest so disobeying orders, and I bless and kiss my son for disobeying them.”—[Youths’ Compa ion. A Man Who Dies Often. “A man died in St. Louis the other day who once had an opportunity afforded him of buying for $lO a pl >t of western land now worth $25,000,00').” This man, by the way, had died about twice a year for more than a quarter of a century. Ho u quite as numerous as the man who, once upon a time, might have purchased tlyo whole of Manh ittan Island for a barrel of whisky and a pair of boots. Unfortunately he didn’t have either the whisky or the boots. —[Nur rwtuwn Herald. i ft. 25 Per Annum; 75 cents For Six Months; • 50 cents Tlin • Months; Single Copies ( 5 cents'-In Advance. Cormorant Fishing. In China tamo cormorants are trained to fish for their masters. Rev. Justis Doolittle thus describes the process of cormorant fishing: “ The fisherman who has charge of the cormorants stands upon a raft of bamboo polos, very light, and propallcd by a paddle. A basket is placed on it to contain the fish. Each raft has three or four cormorants connected with it. When not fishing, they crouch down stupidly on the raft. “The fisherman, when he wishes to make a cormorant fish, pushes or throws it off tho raft into tho water. If it is not disposed nt once to dive and seek for fish, he sometimes strikes it, so that it is glad to dive, and get out of his reach. “When it has eaught a fish, it rises to tho surface, holding it in its mouth, and apparently striving to swallow it. A string tied loosely around its neck, or a metallic ring, effectually prevents swal lowing, except, perhaps, in the case of very small fish. “It usually swims di rectly for tho raft. Tho fisherman, when near enough, dexterously passes a net-like bag, fastened, to tho end of a pole, over tho two, and draws them both on the raft. Ho then forces tho fish from the grasp of tho bird, and, as if to reward the latter for its success, gives it a mouthful of food, which it is enabled to swallow, on his raising tho ring from tho lower part of its neck. Tho bird, if apparently tired out, is al lowed to rest awhile on tho raft, and then it is pushed off again into the water, and made to divo and hunt for fish as before. “Sometimes one bird will hasten to tho assistance of another which has caught a large fish which ho may be un able to master; the bird will help his comrade to carry his prize to the raft, and then fly back and resume its own labors.” Washington’sCliiircli Pew in New York Trinity, says a New York letter, is often spoken of as if it were on old church, and indeed the site has been occupied since 1690 and its graveyard— the one quiet place on busy Broadway— open since 1703. But the building has been enlarged t wice, burned, rebuilt, pulled down and again rebuilt in that time, tho present beautiful Gothic structure dating from 1816 only. Much older in reality is St. Paul’s, no great distance above it, built in 1766. Tho finest Sir Christopher Wren model in this country they used to call it. It was meant to front on Church street, and the old steeple stands on that side, but Broadway grew in importance so rapidly that it, had an incongruous Greek portico added afterwards and in a different architectural period, giving the present front on Broadway. Con gress erected a mural tomb to Mont gomery, the hero of Quebec, in its front wall in 1776, and his remains were in terr d under it in 1818. Washington used to attend St. Paul’s, and his pew is still pointed out. The Methodist church in John street, has the Wesley pulpit and is cherished as the cradle of the sect in this country, but it is not an old-time building, the original structure put up in 1776 having been replaced by a second on the srun ■ site. High Peaks Left for Climbers. Alth -ii h I) . Mey;r his succeeded in making the ascent of Kibo, the highest peak on the Kilima Njaro range, there is no oi e ■ ion for any note I Alpine climber to sit down and weep because , there arc no other moa itains to conquer. Th- Alps, the Andes Mount Cook in N' Zealand, and Kilim'.-Njaro are all gi. ci. a dy, but they are dwarfed by some of the Tibetan Mountains. Mr. Gr ham a ■ led me or two of these a few years ag >, but he failed to reach the top of the Kinchinjunga, which is 8000 feet hRb r than Kibo, and Mount Everest, the highest peak in th' 1 world, is till virgin soil. In the Himalayan ran.;''t : i ar ■ more than fifty peaks that rise to a greater altitude than Kilima N iro, which Dr. Meyer esti mates at close upon 20,000 feet. The Alpine Clubs should establish branches in <e. ’r d Asia.—jst James’ Gazette. NO. 11.