The Cherokee Georgian. (Canton, Cherokee County, Ga.) 1875-18??, August 25, 1875, Image 1

The Cherokee Georgian., August 25, 1875, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextBY BREWSTER & SHARP. The Cherokee Georgian M PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY BREWSTER A SHARP. RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION \ (positively in advance.) Single copy, 12 months sj> Single copv, 8 months 1W Mingle copy 6 months <5 fl ingle copy, 4 months ADVERTISING RATES. flpece l'lm. | 3m. | 3m. | 6m. | 12 in. fhTch | $2 sf) (J 3 50JJU 50_| $7 00 I SIOOO STncVl 350 | 500 | 650 : 10 00 | 15 00 iWTFSOO I 750 | 10 00 I 14 00'1 20 00 HnP'sTo SH 000 | 11'50 | 18 00 I 25 00 col. ITo 6o | 12 50 I 10 bo | 25 12 50 £l6 00 I 25 00 |37 50 | 50 00 cot. £ISOO 12500 ] 35 00 I 45 00 | 65 00 1~c01.|20 00 33 00 £SO 00 165 00 J IOO 00 RATES OR LEGAL ADVERTISING. [payable, in all cases, in advance ] Sheriffs’ sales per levy, not exceeding one square, • *’’ ■>() Notice of Application for Homestead, 2 00 Citations on letters of administraiion, 3 00 Citations on letters dismissory from Administration, o 00 Citations on lett-rs dismissory from Guardianship o 00 Leave to sell Land, &c ~ . ... 4 00 Notice to debtors and creditors,... . 3 ■><) Bale of personal properly, per square, 1 50 Bale of Land by Administrators, Guar- dians, &c., per square, 2 50 JCstrays, one week, 1 50 Estrnys, sixty days, 5 00 The money for advertising considered due after the first insertion. Advertisements sent without a spccifica tioH of the number of insertions marked thrreon, will be published till forbid, and charged accordingly Business or Professional Cards, not ex ceeding thrcc-fourlhs of an inch in length, including the paper one year, Ten Dollars. Advertisements inserted at intervals will ov charged as new. Local and Business Notices which will always immediately follow the reading matter, will be inserted at 10 cents a line •ac.i insertion No notice under three lines will be inserted for less than 25 cents each insertion. Advertisements inserted in Columns wnb Reading matter will bechaiged 15 cents per line for each insertion. Double column advertisements 10 p< r ct. extra. , , Advertisements should always be marked for a specified lime. Address all communications on btiMness (wmiceled with the piper to The Geoikhan, Canion, Ga. u Secure the Shadow ere the Sub stance Fades.” A. OVERLAND, Photographer, ’’ Opposite McAfee’s 11 »lcl, CANTON, - - - GEORGIA, ■\V7ILL remain for a abort time, and Y V would respectfully invite a call from all who wish anything tn his line. All nixes and kinds of pictures made in workmanlike style. Satidacliou given, or no charge. f A. OVERLAND aug 4 l-’f J IL CL|¥, JBrick and Stone Mason, Brick Maker and Plasterer. VANTON, • • - GEORGIA,: WILL do all kinds of work in his line, i such us building Brick nnd Slone j Houses, Pillars and Chimneys, Pi isivring ; Houses, etc. All work done in the best style. Satisfaction gum an teed. Prices reu ►ouabhi and just. Best of reterem.es can given when desired. aug 11 1-3 W. A. BRIGHT WELL. .CARPENTER, CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER, Residence, Canton, Ga. O ALL work tl.'iie bv mo will !»• done with n--.it «•«■» in 4 'ii.ijuU'h. t'nccs iv4kwasV-k»--s.itistavtiou guaranteed. Aug 4, 1-dhn I ’".JAMES O. DOWDA, Attorney at Law, CANTON, - - . GEORGIA. J yiT!LL practice in the Superior Courts v» ot Cuerolice and adjoiaiug counties.; Will Fdihttilly and promptly attend io the coll elion of nil c’aims put in his hands. Odkv in the court-houtc, Canton, G*. tuiar 4, _ Ily i ' p Yof WANT PRINTING DONE, | I with nvaUhTi and dispatih, call at this ' < ttkr ' « S'. Tr■? * F W r • y r y <. * @he Cherokee Ceoraidu THE TWO ANGELS. BY JOHN 61. WUITTIKR. God called the nearest angels who dwell with him above. The tenderest one was Pity, and the dear est one was Love. “Arise,” he said, “my angels! A wail of woe and sin Steals through the gates of heaven, and suddens all with in.' j “My harps take up the mournful strain that from a lost world swells, The smoke of torment clouds the light, and blights the asphodels. “Fly downward to that under world, and on its souls of pain Let Love drop smiles like sunshine, and Pity tears like rain !” Two faces bowed before the Throne, veiled in their golden hair, Four white wings lessened swiftly down the dark abyss of air. The way was strange, the flight was long; at last the angels came Where swung the lost and nether world, red-wrapped in ray less flame. There Pity, shuddering, wept; but Love, with faith too strong for fear, Took heart from God’s nlmightiness and smiled a smile oi cheer. And lo! that tear of Pity quenched the slime whereon it fell, And, with the sunshine of that smile, hope entered into hell! Two unveiled faci-s, lull of joy, looked up ward to the Throne, Four white wings folded at the feet of Him who sat thereon ! And deeper than the sounding seas, more soft than falling tfdv>, Amidst the hush of wing aud song the voice Eternal spake: “Welcome, my angels! Ye have brought a holier Joy to heaven ; Henceforth its sweetest song shall be the song of sin forgiven !” Managing a Man. Nellie Davies was the prettiest, sweetest, lies’, and dearest little girl in Hillsburg, and when Tom Carter fell head ovi r heels in love with her, nobody blamed him in the least. Ami when the parson gave his blessing, and they went to commence house keeping in a cosy little house on the south side of the town, everybody prophesied all sorts of happiness for tlw pretty bride. Ami, truth to tell, Nellie Carter was very happy. It is a pleasant thing to go into hoasekecping for the first time, with every thing new and shiny; aud if you have somebody you love very much for a com pani >n, it is still pleasanter. Now, Nellie did love the great, big, blundering Tom Carter with all her might and m .in, and there was only one thing to disturb hei pcrtect peace. She was the very pink qf ti liness, nnd Tom Carter was the most careless fellow alive. He kept his p.-rson neat and nice—but he kept his personal belongings anytl.ing else. Tom would persist in tossing his slippers under the parlor sofa, to have them handy. Tn vairi did she genth' sugg -st that the rack in the hall was the place for his hat and overcoat. Tom would fling his overcoat, damp or dry, on her pretty, smootlily-Ui.ulu btjil, and drop hat any where. In vain did Nellie make a place for ev erything, for Tom invariably tossed every thing down in some other place. Now, little Mrs. Nellie was only human, and Tom’S slovenly ways annoyed her ex ceedingly. She was resolved not to s[>qil i the peace of their home by scolding ; but how-to core him shetoiflil not tell. She bore with him with the patience of an angel, until one morning, after he had i gone to bis wilieCj, she went into the pallor, | and there lay Tom’s heavy shawl right I across the table, ruthlessly crushing be ; ueath it the pretty trifles which Uy upon i the marble tfep. ‘Nbw, I eifti’t Stand tF.is. atod I xvon’t f ! .-aid Nellie, ns she carefully raised the shawl i from the delicate treasures, and discovered I the rums of a Bohemian vase. ‘I don’t know what to drl,‘ but this I I won’t have!’ she continued, with the little t bit us a w ifely snap which every good wife must have if she expects to get on at all I with that occasionally luireasouable ani i mal, man. ; ‘Some way must and shall be Uncovered to cure Tom of such ptrlormanccs us this!’ j went on Mrs. Nellie, as she removed the i ruins of her vase ; and all the morning she went about the house with scarlet lipe ; closely compressed, and a little flash in her i brown eyes, which argued well for Master ; Tom’s subjugation. Woman’s wit, Laving a will, seldom suds to liud away. And when a deter ! mined little woman srys ‘must* and ‘ahull,’ i masculine insul'orditiation might aa well surrender al once. Before Mrs. Nellie had ] c'ose»i Iter bright eyes that night, she had arranged her plans for the campaign against 1 lur hegu lord, who the sleep ot iano j ccnce by her side. But alm meant lo givtr him one more I chance. So, after breakfast, when Tom * on Ll boots and gaxc life sllppeis CANTOX, CHEROKEE COUNTY, GA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1875. their usual toss under the sofa, she gently said : ‘Tom, dear, hadn’t yon better put your slippers in the passage or the bed-room ?’ ‘N©. let them alone ; they’ll be handy to night,’ said Tom. ‘But, Tom, dear,.they look so untidy.’ ‘Why, no, they don’t; a thing looks as well in one place as another. What’s thfi use of a man having a home, if he can’t keep things where he wants, to?’ said re bellious Tom. ‘What’s the use of Keepin" a wife and servant on their feet all day to pick up things after you?’ said she, with the .least show ot temper. ‘Don’t pick em up at all. Just let ’em alone, and then I can find ’em when I want ’em,’ declared Master Tom, as he gave her a kiss and took himself off. And the moment the door closed on him Nellie’s red lips compressed again, and her brown eyes wore tJie-same look they had worn yesterday. ‘War it is, then!’ she said to herself. ‘Now, Master Tom, we shall see who wins the field.’ . , ? She set quietly about tlfff usual morning’s work of a mistress of a house where only one servant is kept; and when Tom came home to lunch, everything was in its usual good order It remained so, and Nellie busied herself with her needlework until nearly time for Tom to return to dinner. Then she arose, put away her work, and prepared, as she said to herself, to ‘open the campaign.’ First, she put Tom’s slippers where he always left them, under the sofa. Then slie tossed his shawl upon the piano, and his best hat on the table. Then she brought some of her dresses and flung them across the chairs and on the sofa. Iler furs re posed in Tom’s especial arm-chair, and her best bonnet kept Tom’s slippers company under the sofa, while her own slippers lay upon the cheffonicr. And then, thinking that feminine inge nuity could make no greater sacrifice than her Sunday bonnet, she took a piece ol crochet work and sat down. Presently the door opened, and in came Master Tom. lie gave a low whistle ot surprise as he glanced at the unwonted dis order, and at Nellie, sitting calmly in the mid>t with her crochet-work, and then en tered the room. ‘Haven’t been putting things to rights, Nellie?' he asked. ‘No, no. Why?’ said Nellie, looking up in sweet unconsciousness. ‘I thought maybe you hul been, that’s all,’ remarked Tom, dryly, as he looked for a place to sit down. Nellie quietly pursued her work. Presently Tom said, ‘Paper come this evening ?’ ‘Not yet,’ answered Nellie. Tom gave half a sigh. ‘Nelhc, I met Granger just now, and be said he would call rouud this evening.’ ‘Very well. Probably he won’t come be fore dinner. It will be ready soon,’ said Nellie, walking away in demure inno cence. ‘Hadn’t you better put things a little to rights before lie comes?’ asked Tom, glanc ing Uneasily around the room. ‘Oh, no. Just let ’em lie,’ answered Nellie, sweetly. ‘But they look so bad,’ said Tom. ‘Oh, no, they don't,’ said Nellie, as sweetly as before. ‘A thing looks as well in one place as another.’ Tom’s face reddened. ‘I never saw your room look like this before,’ he said, hesitatingly. ‘1 shouldn’t like to have any one step in ’ ‘Why not? said Nellie. ‘Wc might as well keep things handy. “What's the use ol having a bouse it you can’t keep things where you want to ?” ’ Tom’s face got redder and redder. He tried to look serious, and then broke into a laugh. ‘Oh, that’s your game, is it ?’ he said. ‘Trying to beat me with my own weap-1 ons, aie you, little woman ?’ ‘Well, don't you like the plan?’ said Nellie, demurely. ‘No, by George, I don’t’’ Slid Tom. ‘Well, then, l’’l make a bargain with you. As long as you will keep your | things in their places, I’ll do the saute; with mine; and whenever you don’t—’ ‘Oh, 1 will!’ interrupted Turn. ‘Come,! Nellie, I’ll confess like a man—you’ve beat i me this time. Only just put thtngg right | in this awful room, and I'll novel throw | anything down again. There, now, let’s i kiss and make it up, as the children say.’ | Nellie rose, and laughingly held her i sweet mouth for the kiss of peace. And I then, under the magic inti tence el her deft i fingers, confusion was suddenly banished ;i and when Mr. Granger came round to spend the evening, he decided that nobody had a : prettier wife or a tidier home than Tom ' Carter. Wise little Nellie, having gained posses-; sion of lhe <ua‘riinonial field, look care lo i keep it until Tom was quite cured of his ' careless habits. Samclimca he seemed : threat me 1 with a relapse ; but Nellie, in stead ci scolding, only had quietly to bring t : 'methiu r of her own and Uv it b' ~ : Virtus and Intelligence-—The Safeguards of Liberty. viiiatever he had tossed down, and it was sure to be put away immediately, for Tom sildoin filled tffctiike the hint. ■ lAmtif some? Athcr little woman, a§ tidy and wise as jfell, takes a hint also, this story will'bave served its purpose. j. Why Ugly Sum liad been missing from tlie ‘Potomac’ for■s‘>veral days, and Cleveland Tom, Port I'fhrdn Bill, Cliiongo, ar,-i the' rest of tlje boys, who went to get dnink tvilh him, cAiffdii’t make’but what Tiad happened. T&y fA\Trt’t heard that there wdfe' a warrant j out for him, had never known of Iris being si£ft for a day, and his absence frcniFthe old LAtfnt puzzled them. They rtcrd’ih. the saloon the other morning, nearly a dozen of them, drinking, smoking aiid playing cards, when iu walked Ugly '■*There was a deep silence for a few mo nwfi ts as they looked at hint Sam had a nftv 'hat, had been shated clean, had on a clmn' dollar and a wliite shirt, and they didn’t know him at first. When they saw th At it was Ugly Sam, they iittcied a shout urfd leaped up. ‘Cave in that hat!’ cried one. ‘'Yank that collar off!’ shouted another. *Let’s roll him on the floor !’ screamed a third. There was something in his look and bearing which made them hesitate. The whisky-red had almost faded from h;s face, an 1 he looked sober and (lignified. His features expressed disgust and contempt as he looked around the room, and then re vealed pity as his eyes fell upon the red eyes and bloated faces of the crowd before him. ‘Why, what ails ye, Sam?’ inquired Tall Chicago, as they all stood there. ‘l’-ve come to bid you good -by, boys !’ he replied, removing his hat and drawing a clean handkerchief from his pocket. ‘What! Hev ye turned preacher !’ they shouted in chorus. ‘Boys, ye know I can lick any two of yc, but I ain’t on the fight any more, I’ve put dowu the last drop of whisky which is ever to go into my mouth! I've switched off. I’ve taken an oath. I’m going to be de cent !’ ‘Sam, be you crazy ?’ asked Port Huron Bill, coining nearer to him. ‘l’ve come down here to tell yc all about it,’ answered Sam. ‘Move the chairs back a little and give me room. Ye all know I’ve been rough, and more too. I’ve been a drinker, a fighter, a gambler, a loafer. I can’t look back and remember when I’ve earned an honest dollar. The police hez chased me round like a wolf, and I’ve been in jail and the work house, and the papers has said that Ugly Sim was the terror of the’Potomac. Ye know all this, boys, but ye diduot know I had an old mother.’ The faces of the crowd expressed amaze ment. ‘I never mentioned it to any of ye, for I was neglecting her,’ he went on. ‘She was a poor old woman, living up here in the alley; and if the neighbors hadn’t helped her to fuel and food, she would have been found dead long ago. I never helped her a cent —didn’t sec her for weeks and weeks, and I used to feel mean about it. When a fellow goes back on his old mother, he’s a gitting party low, aud I know it. Well, she’s dead—buried yesterday ! I was up there afore she died. She sent for me by Pete, and when I got there I seen it was ail day with her.’ ‘Did she say anything?’ asked one of the boys, as Sam hesitated. ‘That’s what ails me now,’ he went on. ‘When 1 went in she reached out her baud to me, and, says she: “Samuel, I’aa going to die, and I know’d you’d want to see me afore I passed away.” I sat down, feeling q'fcer like. She didn’t go and say as how I was a loafer, and neglected her, and all that, but says she: “Samuel, you’ll be all alone when I'm gone. I’ve tried to be a : good mother to you, and have prayed for ’ you hundreds of nights, aud cried about you until my old heart was sore!” Some of the neighbors had dropped in, and the wo men were crying, anJ I tell you I felt weak!’ He paused for a moment, and then con- i ttnued; ‘And the old woman said she’d like to kiss I me afore death came, and that broke me right down. She kept hold of my hand,} ! md by-and-by she whispered: “Samuel, : you are throwing your life away. You’ve I <ot it in you to be a ram, if you’ll only ! make up yous mind. I hate to die and feel i that my only sou and the last of our family ■ ; may go to the gallows. If I had your i promise that you’d turn over a new leaf, I and try and be good, it seems as if I’d die easier. Won’t you promise me, my son ?” And I promised her, boys, and that’s what aife me 1 She died holding my hand, aud I promised to quit my low biuincas, and to go to work..’ I came down U) tell ya, and now you won’t see me ou the Potomac again. Iv’e bought an axe, and am going I up in Canada to winter.” There was a dead silence for a inomeut, ’ and then he said: ‘Well, l>>ys. I’ll shake hands with yc ail , around afbre I go. Good-bv Pete—good-by Jack—Tom —Jim. I hope yod Won’t fling any bricks at me, and I shan’t never fling at any of ye. It’s a dying promise, ye see, and I’ll keep it, if it takes a right arm.’ Hope. Hope has the power of soaring with a stroug and untiring pinion from all that is dark and dreary into the radiant atmos phere of poetry. It takes us into a world of degrees, and Causes the heart to Wander among visions. It diverts the thoughts from the real to the ideal, and leads us amongst the picture-gleams ot fancy to lin ger in the fairy realms of art. It hastens ns into a visionary world, that we may have dreams of glory, power and fame. It un furls a dazzling scroll, and shows us engra ven on it ail immortal name. Ils holy task is to exhibit to us, even when care sur rounds us, and we are treading along a harsh path, a time of dizzy joys, and to change into brighter enchantments the stern realities of actual life. Nor do the strength of its dreams, the nobleness of its desires, and the beauty of its thoughts, cease to actuate and influence our hearts even when life grows pale and wanes last, when we turn our thoughts from earth to heaven, on the couch of sickness and weak ness, and the faint voice and the pulse speaks iu warning whispers of the time to die. It boldly walks along with us, prompt ing the spirit never to repine from the cra dle to the grave. We all hope. In every one of us that passion finds an object to feed upon. We all form some beau-ideal — wc all sketch some fancy portrait, which we fondly cherish, and hope to find the fair original. When hope first sheds its influence upon the heait, all one’s roving thoughts are concentrated upon one object. A vacuum within is filled of which we have never before known the extent. Heed less indifference to success in life forsakes one. A new stimulus succeeds —the mine revolves splendid success. All the alluring avenues of fame spread open before us. We burn to achieve some arduous enterprise which shall be worthy of the mind of man. But strong as is the spell of hope to incite and inspire us, equally strong is it to elude and to deceive us. The fraud is sweet, but bitter pain and keen desire await to tor ment us, upon the awaking and finding its chain broken and lying around us in glit tering fragments. The heart that trusts the siren smile of hope drinks the most copious draught of pleasure ■while it grasps its soul sought treasure; but when the mystic gleam departs, the heart sinks coldly, and too often breaks amidst the world’s unkind ness. The Poor Boy.—Don’t be ashamed my lad, if you have a patch on your elbow. It is no m ark of disgrace. It speaks well for your industrious mother. For our part, wc would rather see a d< zen patches ou your jacket than hear one profane or vulgar word escape your lips. No good boy will shun you, because you cannot dress as well as your companion, and if a bad boy sometimes laugh at your appearance, say nothing, my good lad, but walk on. We know many a rich and good man who was once as poor as you. There is your next door neighbor in particular—now one of the wealthiest men—who told us a short time since that when a child he was glad to receive the cold potatoes from his neighbor’s table. Be good, my Loy, and if you are poor you will be respected a great deal more than if you were the son of a rich man and were addicted to bad habits —[Ex. “I trust everything, under God,” said Lord Brougham, ‘to habit, upon which, in all ages, the lawgiver, as well as the school master, has mainly placed his reliance Habit makes everything easy and casts all difficulties upon the deviation from a wonted course. Make sobriety a habit, and intemperance will be hateful: make pru dence a habit, and reckless profligacy will be avoided. Give a child the habit of sa credly regarding the truth, of carefully re specting the property of others, of scrupu lously abstaining from all acts of improvi dence which can involve him in distress, ami he will just as likely think of rushing into an element in which he cannot breathe as of lying, cheating or ;L*aling. The Bible.—Wonderfully is the Bible adapted to all the varying circumstances and necessities of the believer’s life. There is a fullness iu it which meets every want and yet can never be exhausted—an interest ever fresh, ever new. We can never out grow its help or reach a stage of spiritual i advancement w Leu it cun uo longer lead us. It ever goes before, thawing out and edu cating every spiritual perception, satisfying every spiritual need, aud yet ever giving us a sense of infinite fullness beyond.—[Mac Millam Too Little Maknebs. —Sir Fletcher Norton was noted for his want ot courtesy When pleading before Lord Mansfleld, on some question of manorial right, he chanced unfortunately to say, ‘ My Lord, I can illus trate the point by an instance in iny own person ; I myself have two little manors ” The Judge immediately interposed, with one of his blandest smiles, “ We all know it, Sir Fletcher.” .1 VOLUME 1.-XUMBER 4. ALL FOR FUN. How to serve a good dinner —Ea£ it. Never marry a woman who kicjis side wise. Can you spell consent in three -letters ? Y-e-s. A clean shirt is said to be one of xyoman’s best gifts to man. ? No man can enjoy religion not keep himself clean. { A Schenectady girl at a spelling school sat down on ‘pantaloons.’ A lawyer’s maxim—Where therms a will there’s a way —to break it. If a man dreams the devil is after him, he had best pay his subscription, bilk Why is your shadow like a false friend ? Because it follows you only in sunshine. No man ever worshiped a brazen .image, who had once tusseled with a life insurance agent. The clergyman who boasted that he could preach without notes, did not mean bank notes. When does an editor play a singular trick with grammar ? When he declines an article. ‘You look as if you were beside your self,’ said a wag to a fellow who stood by the side of an ass. The difference between the cook and her lover is, the one cooks the meat and the other meets the cook. A man wc have heard of is so shoft that when he is ill he don’t know whether he has headache or corns. Why do women talk less in February than in any other month ? Because it is the shortest month in the year. .‘ ‘She dyed for me,’ said the young hus band when he beheld her dark locks gradu ally returning to their original red. Somebody advertises a preparation for keeping a lady’s hand free from chaps. A hard thing to do, unless she be ugly or poor. Somebody observes that when six young ladies sit down to talk about dress, a small boy with a tin horn is a refuge for the weary. A clergyman at Paris, Ky , stopped hia prayer to lead an unruly man out by the ear, and went on: ‘As I was saying, O Lord.’ Pleasant-faced people are generally the most welcome, but the auctioneer is always pleased to sec a man whose countenance is for bidding. A punster, seeing a rustic driving into town sitting on top of a big load oi corn, remarked that he was the most corn-seated fellow he ever saw. ‘I guess I’ll take this book,’ remarked a Chicago lady to the clerk of a bookstore. ‘lt’s got twice as much gold-leaf on the cover as any of the rest? The obituary notice of a much respected lady concludes with: ‘ln life she was a pattern worthy to be followed ; and her death—oh, how consoling to her friends.’ The worst case of selfishness that ever has been presented to the public emanated from a youth who complained because his mother put a bigger mustard plaster on his younger brother than she did on him. A man sentenced to be bung was visited by his wife, who said: ‘My dear, would you like your children to see you executed ?’ ‘No,’ replied he. ‘That’s just like you,’ said she; ‘you never wanted the children to have any enjoyment 1’ A Scotchman went to a lawyer once for advice, and detailed the circumstances of the case. ‘Have you told me the facts pre cisely as they occurred V aaked the lawyer. ‘Oh, ay, sir!’ replied he; ‘I thought it best to leU ye the plain truth. Ye can put the lies into it yourself.’ A girl, who was looking at a circus clown whirling a hat on a stick, remarked to her young man that she ‘used to do that.’ The young man was looking at a contortionist, in another part of the arena, who had his legs tied around bis neck, and an explana tion was necessary. The lawyer who filed a bill, cut an ac quaintance, split a hair, made an entry, got up a case, framed an indictment, impaneled a jury, put them into a box, nailed a wit ness, hammered a judge, aud bored a whole court, all in one day, has since laid down law and turned carpenter. Nineteen years ago a Tennessee father re fused to let his young daughter go lo a candy-pul ling, and she disappeared. The other day she returned, lifted eleven chil dren out of the wagon, and entered the house, and took off her things as coolly as if she had not been gone over a day. An erring husband, who had exhausted all explanations for late hours, and had no apology ready, recently slipped into the house about 1 o’clock, very softly, denuded uimself gently, and began rocking the cradle by the bedside as it he had been awakened out of a sound sleep by infantile * cries. He had rocked away for five min utes, when Mary Jane, who had silently observed the whole maneuver, said : ‘Como , to bed, you old fool, you! the baby ain’t Uiere!’