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®lic Coninaton Star.
ANDERSON & WALLIS, Proprietors
Below the Sea.
Daori in the Imy the old church lies,
Beyond tlie storm-wind's power,
The waves that whelmed it ever play
In ripples round the tower.
And if you look down through tlie tide—
Many and many a time—
Von may catcli llie glimmer of tho stones,
Or hear tlie sweet bolls chime !
For they that dwell deep in the sea,
Below the wind and rain,
The Mermen and the Mennaidens,
Have built it up again !
They have made last file ruined walls
Witli their immortal hands,
And strewn the aisle with red 6ea-flowors,
And with the wot sea sands.
And when a drifting boat comes l-ack
Kook shattered to tile shore,
With never captain at the helm,
Nor sailor at the oar,
Then down below the stormy fomu
The sweet old hells l ing free,
They call upon the mariners
That come no more from sea.
—May Kendall, in Mugazine of Art.
“A Secret of tlie Sea,”
The following story was told me a
short time ago by a friend, who had it
only at second hand from an eye-wit¬
ness of the whole affair. My friend
began thus:
“The strange thing I am going to
tell you is true; I know it because I
have it from a friend, or, rather a re¬
lation. of one of the officers on board
the ship.
“Some years ago, before the exist¬
ence of the Suez Canel, a large East
Indiaman was making her way easily,
with light Summer winds, along
through the Indian Ocean to Calcutta.
Tlie Cape had been passed several days
before, and now, with charming
weather, officers and passengers, to say
nothing of the crew, were looking for¬
ward to the end of what had been a
pleasant, though quite uneventful,
voyage,
“They had had nothing more serious
than a ‘half-gale o’ wind,’ had met only
three or four ships, homeward bound;
and in spite of a score or more agreea¬
ble passengers, in spite of the last sen¬
sation novels, of musical entertain¬
ments, of flirtations by moonlight on
deck, and even in spite of unlimited
gossip, the days had grown very mo¬
notonous,and the weeks unaccountably
long; even light-hearted middies had
begun to chafe and fret over the long
confinement on shipboard, and the
young ladies to sigh for an excitement.
“I take it for granted that you know
that the service of tlie East India
Company’s ships was like the Naval in
its organization; there were captain,
lieutenants, midshipmen and petty of¬
ficers; the ships were mounted with
heavy guns, and were well armed, and
manned with men trained for fighting.
The voyage was long, and in time of
war the Indiamen were regarded as
very desirable booty. The ships were
large, strongly built and very commo¬
dious, and often luxuriously fitted up.
“The day had been hot, and the light
wind had died almost entirely away;
the great ship rose and fell on the
waves, and her sails hung loosely from
tho tall masts that slowly swayed back
and forth with monotonous, cracking
sound one knows so well who lias been
much at sea. It was ‘sundown,’ and
the short twilight of the tropics was
fast deepening into night; everybody
had come upon deck to enjoy such
whiffs of air as might be stirring, the
passengers and officers on the quarter¬
deck, while the crew were hanging
over the side or lazily lounging on the
neat coils of rope about the deck.
“Suddenly a faint, very faint sound
—so faint, one knew not what it was
whence it came—or scarcely if there
had been a sound at alL People asked
each other about it; some had heard it
and others had not; and after some
discussion it was decided there really
was nothing at all. And just as they
reached that conclusion the sound
came again, and a little clearer, more
positive than before, so that every one
heard something. ‘It was the moan of
the breeze through the rigging!’ ‘No,
it was the bell for’ard I’ It was fifty
most ordinary sounds in the world,
and quite a matter of course that it
should have been heard; and then—
again it came—as if it dropped from
the air, and were the sob of some sad
hearted spirit floating by. And then
the tiling was talked over and
over, and everybody had a theory, and
nobody was satisfied with any of them.
“Meantime it grew darker, and the
great stars of the Southern AY T orld
started out, making the night lumi¬
nous with their wonderful glory. A
silence fell upon the busy tongues, and
all eyes were gazing upwards, when
suddenly through the hush broke the
tone of a bell. Full, clear, musical it
rang out, then died slowly, seeming to
go further and further away, until the
last faint sound came from a long dis¬
tance off; then again silence, and peo¬
ple looked strangely at each other, and
almost as if they were fearful of break¬
ing that stillness by speaking the
words that hung on every lip. At
last Captain Stanley hailed the maat
head.
“‘No, sir, nothing insight. It’s a
little misty up to windward.’
M I Keep a sharp lookout—d’ye hear ?’
“ ‘Ay, ay, sir !’
“A slight puff of wind blew past the
ship—just enough to bear the distinct
tone of the mysterious bell, and also to
tell from which direction it came; it
was deeper, clearer, fuller than before.
The mystery deepened, but Captain
Stanly said, quietly; ‘That mist un
doutedly holds the solution of the af¬
fair; it is some ship’s bell, as we shall
see as soon as it lifts a little.’ But
hour after hour went on, and still the
midst hung low on the water, and
still the mournful sound of that bell
was borne to the ears that listened all
hrough the night on board the Dare.
Few left the dock, and all night long
that sad, weird tolling kept them com¬
pany—now seemingly closer to them,
and again so faint and far away. It
was uncanny, and to the sensitive ones
sounded like the strokes of doom.
“Just before the early dawn, while
it was yet only a clear starlight, the
mist lifted, and at once came the cry
from the masthead: Somethin to
windward.’
“ ‘What is she
«i ( Well, it’s a eer sort of a craft
altogether.’
ft t Mr. Crabbs, will you go up and
see what you make cf her ?’ said Cap¬
tain Stanley; and Mr. Crabbs, a light
footed young middie, sprang up the
rigging, and in a few moments re¬
turned, saying;
“ ‘She, or it, is a very queer-looking
thing, sir; it is pretty dark yet, but, as
well as I can see, it looks like a big
flatboat with a sort of house on it—it
floats low in the water. And that bell
sir—keeps on tolling sir,’ said little
Crabbs, hesitatingly.’
it t Yes—yes—we can all hear the
bell plainly enough, Mr. Crabbs!’ and
turning to the first lieutenant, Cap¬
tain Stanley went on; ‘Mr. Fraser, see
a boat lowered away at once; send Mr.
Crabbs in command of her, to board
this stranger and find out what this
means.’
“ ‘A few minutes later one of the
ship’s boats, manned with a crew of
six men, and little Crabbs in the stern,
was pulling towards the flatboat, which
had become visible, from the ship’s
deck. There was no steady wind, hut
a slight puff or two had been made
the most of to draw a little closer to
the strange thing, and the Dare now
lay almost or quite becalmed about
two miles distant from it; the house or
cabin—the top of it at least—could be
seen, and a sort of crossbeam arrange¬
ment on which hung the bell whose
solemn voice was heard as the boat
rose and tell with the waves; but no
living soul was visible. Every glass
was directed upon tho little boat as it
came up alongside. Mr. Crabbs was
seen to climb up the side and instant¬
ly disappear, while in the same mo¬
ment the boat pushed off and made
for the ship, pulling in a disordered,
hesitating manner, stopping for a few
minutes’ discussion seemingly, then
their way with a long, regular stroke.
“Arrived at the ship’s side, they
came on board in a dazed sort of a way
with white scared faces; and upon
Captain Stanley's stern demand for an
explanation, they managed to tell their
story.
“They saw no human being, they
heard sound of human voice on that
haunted thing; but as Mr. Crabbs
stepped upon the top of the high bul¬
wark, a large black figure leached up
and seized him with its long arms and
dragged him down; and there was a
sound of rattling of chains and shrieks
and yells of fondish laughter; and the
thing was loaded with devils, and the
Foul Fiend himself had got poor Mr.
Crabbs, and they got away as fast as
they could.
“And sad and terrible enough it all
was, and that horrible bell went on
toiling an awful knell for poor, bright
hearted little Crabbs. There were
sobs and tears, and pale cheeks, and
mourning for the lad; and after a lit¬
tle the captain said, with a hard voice,
and a set, stern look on his pleasant
face:
«« < Mr. Fraser, send that boat back
with a fresh crew; or, rather take com¬
mand yourself, sir—take the best men
and plenty of arms.’
“And in a few moments the little
boat went ba“k, carrying men who
had rather fight a man-of-war twice
their size than face a foe that was un¬
known!, and doubtless belonged to the
unseen world; but they went, and res¬
olutely, for everybody loved little
Crabbs.
“How earnestly and anxiously they
were watched from the decks of the
Dare one can well imagine. Mr.
Fraser and the boatswain, well armed
and revolver in hand, climbed cautious¬
ly up the sides of the flatboat, and I
were seen to raise their heads slowly |
above the bulwark, And this is what
they saw: : a magnificent Bengal tiger
of the finest breed just finishing his (
COVINGTON, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 13, 1886.
revolting meal ! They fired together,
and the great creature loll over and
die 1 w tli ut a struggle.
“Then the boat’s crew were ordered
to come lip, and they carefully climbed
on board, and with a pistol in each
hand, began an exploration of the cab¬
in; there was no door to it, and as they
entered the wide doorway, there right
before them they saw two skeletons—
of a man and a woman, chained, one
against each side of the room. Be¬
tween them, ia the midst, was a brok¬
en chain, one end still riveted to the
iloor—the other hung to the . eck of
the slain tiger!
“Fronting the doorway, on the wall
was written in Arabic: ‘Such is my
vengeance upon those who rouse my
jealousy.’ The ghastly talo wms told.
“Silent from horror, they gathered
together all that was left of the gay
middie, and covering them with a
boat-cloak, the Dare's men rowed back
and told their story.
“Lieutenant Fraser told it ail to the
person who told it to me, and strange
and horrible as it is well, you know,
‘nothing is too strange,’ or too horrible
‘to be true’; and mv story is true.”
Croat Salt Like.
Great Salt Lake is in fact not a
branch of the Sea at all, but a mere
shrunken remnant of a very large
fresh water lake system, like that of
the still existing St. Lawence chain.
Once upon a time American geologists
say a huge sheet of water, for which
they have even invented a definite
name. Lake Bonneville, occupied a
far larger valley among the outliers of
the Rocky Mountains, measuring 300
miles in one direction by 180 miles in
the other. Beside this primitive Su¬
perior lay a great second sheet—an
early Huron—(Lake Lahontan the
geologists call it) almost as big and
of equally fresli water. By and by—
the precise dates are necessarily indefi¬
nite—some change in the rainfall, un¬
registered by any contemporary, made
the waters of the big lakes shrink and
evaporate. Lake Lahontan shrank
away like Alice in Wonderland, till
there was absolutely nothing left of it;
Lake Bonneville shrank til! it attained
the diminished size of the existing
Great Salt Lake. Terrace after ter¬
race, running in long parallel lines on
the sides of the AVahsatch Mountains
around, mark the various levels at
which it rested for a while on its grad¬
ual downward course. It is still fall¬
ing indeed, and the plain around is be¬
ing gradually uncovered, forming the
white, salt-encrusted shore with which
all visitors to the Mormon city are so
familiar. But why should the wa'er
have become briny ? AVhy should the
evaporation of an old Superior pro¬
duce at last a Great Salt Lake ? AA’ell,
there is a small quantity of salt in
solution even in the freshest of lakes
and ponds, brought down to them by
tho streams or rivers, and, as the water
of the hypothetical Lake Bonneville
slowly evaporated, the salt ami other
mineral constituents remained behind,
Thus the solution grew constantly
more and more concentrated till at the
present day it is extremely saline.
Prof. Geikie (to whose work the pres
ent paper is much indebted) found
that he floated on the water in spite of
himself; and the under sides of the
steps at the bathing places are all en
encrusted with short stalactites of
salt, produced from the drip of the
bathers as they leave the water. The
mineral constituents, however, differ
considerably in their proportions from
those found in true salt lakes of marine
origin, and tho point at which salt ia
thrown down is still far from having
been reached. Great Salt Lake must
simmer in the sun for many centuries
yet before the point arrives at which
(as cooks say) it begins to settle.—
CornhilL
Hie Paid Extra.
A widow, whose age might have
been forty, went into business on
Grand River avenue a few weeks ago,
and the first move was to get a sign
painted. The services of a sign
painter were secured, and when he
finished his work he put on his “im
print by placing his initials AA . A.
II.” down on the left hand corner ol
the sign. AY hen the widow came to
criticise the work she queried :
“AVhat does ‘AA’. A. II.’ stand for?”
“AVhy, ‘AVanted, A Husband, » »» re
plied the painter. i
“Oh, yes—I see,” she mused, “It
was very thoughtful in you, and here
is a dollar extra .”—Detroit Free Press.
The Student's Recommendation. |
I
Frotessor to medical student: “AA’e
will suppose another case. By the
blunder of a prescription clerk a man
has taken twenty grains of cyanide of
potassium. AVhat would you recoin j
mend?” I
“I would recommend that the ob
sequies be conducted in strict accord
am e with his bank account and stand- I
mg in ,eiy, sir.’’— Chicago Ledger.
STORY OF TWO CORPORALS
An Ex-Confederate’s Remin¬
iscence of the War.
Why the Hatred of One Man for Another
Turned to Affection.
Being, as I am, a man of no educa¬
tion—never have been given a fair
show in my younger days—the reader
is asked to excuse my plain language
and bad grammar.
You must know that I belonged to
the Fifteentl) Alabama infantry, and
that we went to the front pretty early
in the war. We thus had our pick of
good men. In my company the third
corporal was a powerful big chap
named Sam Chapin, who had been
overseer on a plantation near Hunts¬
ville. lie was not only big and pow¬
erful but his habits had made a selfish,
overbearing aDd cruel man of him.
He hadn’t been in the company a week
before half the men wore down on
him for his meanness.
Big Sam also had his dislikes, but
there was one man he hated in partic¬
ular. t shouldn’t have .‘aid man, for
he was only a boy 17 years old—slim,
pale-faced and as timid in look as a
girl. Sam took a hatred of this boy
on sight, and he let no occasion pass
to nag him and render his hard lot
still harder. Jimmie, as the boy was
colled, had no complaint to make He
was of a forgiving disposition, and no
matter what he felt or thought, we
never heard him condemning anybody
by word of mouth. Some of us would
have killed Big Sam had we been in
Jimmie’s place, but such a thing as
striking back seemed never to have
occurred to the boy. Well, one day
when a part of our regiment was cut
off from the brigade by a flank move¬
ment of the Union troops, and our
situation was desperate, our captain
steps out and says;
“Boys, 1 want to send word to
Colonel-. Where’s the man who’ll
take it?”
He was looking right at Big Sam all
the time, but that individual turned
two’shades whiter, and hid himself in
the rear ranks, muttering that nobody
but a fool would try to push past 3000
Yankee muskets with the message.
The first thing we knew Jimmie had
mounted a horse from which some of¬
ficer had been shot and was riding
away. How he ever ran that gaunt¬
let with his life was more than I could
tell, but he did get through, and down
came enough of our forces to help us
out of the box.
This was new cause for Big Sam to
hate Jimmie. The boy had not only
exhibited greater courage in the face
of danger, and right before us ail, hut
he was promoted to second corporal.
This was a promotion right over the
head of Big Sam, and he felt it to the
ends of his fingers. He couldn’t nag
the boy any more, and 1 have no doubt
he swore a solemn oath to kill him at
the first opportunity. Indeed, he
hinted as much, and became so ugly
and abusive to all that some of us
wanted to kill him.
Well, in about six weeks we had
another tussle with the Yanks. AVc
got into it hot and heavy, and as we
■were driving them for the moment I
found myself alongside of Big Sam.
A\ r e were disputing for a rise of ground,
and far in advance of us, carrying the
flag which the color-bearer had dropp¬
ed as a bullet had hit him, was Corpo¬
ral Jimmie. I was feeling proud to
see him there, when, as heaven is my
judge, 1 saw Big Sam raisehis musket,
take deliberate aim at the boy, and
next moment Corporal Jimmie went
down.
It was a hurlyburiy time, with grape
and lead cutting all around us, and 1
let the incident pass fora time, de
terniined, though, that Big Sam should
pay the forfeit after the battle.
AVe kept on and on, but as wo rose
( 0 b jjj we were checked. In five
minutes more we were being driven
and tb;d was bow p, C ;mie about that
Corporal Jimmie, with his left arm
broken by Big Sam’s bullet, found
himself lying beside the ex-overseer,
w ho had a Yankee bullet in his leg.
There were plenty of others wounded,
and some dead ones, too, but our two
n.en lay almost side by side. Big Sam
w’as groaning, cursing and whining
like the coward he was, when a can¬
teen was held within reach and a voice
said;
“Take It, comrade—a drink will
ease your pain.”
“AV-what! is it you?” exclaimed the
overseer as he rose up on his elbow
and gazed at Jimmie.
“Yes; both of us are down, but you
are hit tho worst. Can 1 help you?”
“You help me?”
“Of course.”
It paralyzed Big Sam to meet with
such words from the man he had tried
to kill. After a time he groaned out ;
“Say, Jimmie, you orter shoot me
through the head.”
“AVhat for ?”
“Cause, I'm the man that fired that
bullet into you.”
“AVell, I don’t want revenge. I’m
now able to crawl away, but 1 won’t
leave you.”
The Yanks were massing artillery
to play on the rise of ground and what
does Corporal Jimmie do but get up in
the face of ail the sharp-shooters and
wounded and faint as lie was, half
drag, half carry Big Sam into a shel¬
tered ravine. More’n that, he binds up
his wound, and makes him pretty com¬
fortable, and there we found ’em along
towards night, when a grand charge
finally gave us the ground.
You remember, I had seen Big Sam
draw a bead on the boy, but when I
went to make a stir over it Corporal
Jimmie said: “Please don’tl lie has
been punished enough. I think he
will be a changed man.”
And so he was. They took to each
other like twin ducks, and were the
fasted, firmest friends you ever saw.
Big Sam dropped all mean ways, and
within a year was orderly sergeant of
the company, while Corporal Jimmie
was a lieutenant.
The Rite of “Suttee.”
Since the advent of tlie British into
power in India the fearful rite of sut¬
tee, which condemned to be burnt
along with her husband his widows,
has been prevented; and though, even
at this day, a Hindostani burning is a
sight by no means pleasant, it was
much more fearful when along with
the burningdead husband were burned !
one or more of his late wives.
The first time when that sacrifice
was clearly when brought Job home Charnock, to English- j
men was halt |
pirate, half adventurer, saved the life \
of a beautiful Bengalee widow as she i
was being thrust upon the burning
pyre of her late husband. Job Char¬
nock laid the foundation of the pres¬
ent Capital of India, Calcutta, and it
was at its present site where the gal¬
lant sailor performed this hazardous
saving feat. Charnock had penetrat
ed up the Hoogly, in quest of advent
ures, and seeing from his vessel prep
nration for the burning of a Hindoo he
watched the process with curious ex
eitement; but when it came to cremat
ing living people, and above all a
young woman, all the generous impul
ses of the sailor’s heart were stirred,
and calling to his comrades he leaped
ashore, and with the aid of their
knives he dispersed the heathens, and
afterward married the woman anil j
founded Culcutta .—San Francisco Ex
a miner.
The Jolly Japanese. j
“All life is a joke to the Japanese,”
said Lieut AVyckoff of the hydrograpli- j
ic bureau, who lived in Japan for five
years. “During all that time I never
saw any one angry. I hardly believe
ihey could lose their tempers if they J
Should try. They can kill or be kill
with the most perfect savoir faire.
Iho trades-people will cheat you out
of your eyes if you let them, and a
good many would rather lie than tell
tlie truth. But there is really no mal- j
ice in it all. If you find them out j
,, they will ... simply . . . laugh i in . face, f
your as |
if to say they thought they were clev¬
er in trying to take you in, but that
you were still more clever in catching
them. I was personally aeqainted
with the Cabinet, who really constitute
the ruling power. They carried on
the Government as if it were a big
piece of fun, The Mikado is the only
one who is expected to look at life grave¬
ly, and he makes up in his existence for
the levity of all his subjects. He is so
completely secluded that he may be
sAid to live in a tomb. Altogether,
Japan is a delightful place to live in.
and American and English naval
officers who go there always hate to
leave. Aside from the charms of
country and climate, I put its people
for hospitality, warmth, and cheerful
ness against any nation on earth.”—
Omaha Herald.
„ Nam Jones, , tlie Revivalist. ......
Sam Jones was born in Alabama
about the year 1847. In his youth
his parents moved to t.eorgia, where
he was brought up. He comes of a
family of Methodist preachers, but in
his youth was wild and dissipated, lie
studied law-, and had just entered upon
the practice of his profession when 1
his father died. The old gentleman
who was a most sincere. God-fearing
man, on his death-bed urged his son
to repentance, and the young man
dates his conversion from that hour
Having forsaken his dissipated habits
and his wild companions, he also de¬ !
cided to give up the profession of the
law and enter the ministry. He was
first licensed to preach by the Atlanta
conference in 1872, and since that
time he has preached with great sue- j
cess and conducted revivals in nearly
every city in the South and Southwest
Shortly after entering upon his married career j
as an evangelist Mr. Jones
Miss Laura McElwain ot Eminence
Ky .—Chicago Inter-Ocean. I
VOL. XII. NO 8.
CHILDREN’S COLUMN.
Flrel rirel
Oh, Birdie, fly!—for the maple-treo,
Where your Host is hid so cunningly.
With scarlet flames ia ablaze, I seo.
For Autumn, that wanton, gold-haired hoy,
Roums wild, with a flaming torch for a toy,—
And he fires tho trees with a reckless joy.
On iho maple’s mantle the bright sparks fall,
Oil the creeping woodbine along the wall;
On the sturdy oak-trees, stanch and tall.
Oh, Birdie, fly! to the Southland hie,
For tho woods are blazing benonth our sky,
And your home is on fire,—Birdie, fly!
—Esther B. Tiffany, in St. A'tcholas.
Vetting tlie Worst.
A boy came to the door of a lady’s
house and asked if she did not want
some berries, for he had been all day
gathering them.
“Yes,” said the lady, “I will take
them.” So she took the basket and
stepped into the house, the boy remain¬
ing outside, whistling to some canary
birds hanging in their cage on the
porch.
“AVhy don’t you come in and see
that I measuro your berries rig
said the lady. “How do you know
but I may cheat you ? ”
“I am not afraid,” said the boy, ‘‘for
you would get tho worst of it.”
“Get the worst of it!” said the lady.
“AVhat do you mean by that?”
“AVhy, mar’ra,” said the boy, “I
should only lose my berries, and you
would make yourself a thief. Don’t
you think that would be getting the
worst of it?”
T lie boy was right. He who steals
or does anjthing wrong or mean just
to.gain a few pennies or a few dollars,
loads himself down with a sin which
is worse than all the gain. “Let this
be borne in mind: The one who does
a wrong to another always gets the
worst of it.”
A Utncroui Girt.
He was a bouncing big turkey, and
they hung him by the heels, so that his
nose, almost touched the walk just out
side the butcher’s shop. A little girl
was standing there watching it. Yon
could see that sho was a hungry little
1 girl, and, worse than that, she was
cold too, for her shatvl had to do for
hood and almost everything else. No
one was looking, and so she put out a
little red hand and gave the great tur
L y a push, and he swung back and
torth, almost making the huge iron
hook creak, he was so heavy,
“AVhat a splendid big turkey!”
The poor little girl turned round,
and there was another little girl look¬
ing at the turkey too. She was out
walking with her dolls, and had on a
cloak with real fur all around the
edges, and she had'a real muff, white, I
witb littlo bJack 8pota over it j !
„ Gd ' niornmg, • miss, . „ said id th the
, H,tch '‘ rman - Jon see. he knew the ,
^ Wlt . 1 lnul 1
e 1 0 l ,er ei ' >’
p
“That’s a liig turkey, Mr. Martin.”
“Ves,” said the poor girl timidly;
he’s tlie biggest I ever saw in my life.
lie must be splendid to eat.”
“Pooh !” said the little girl | with the
lmiff . .. he isn - t any blg er than the
one my papa brought home for Thanks¬
giving to-morrow, 1 know.”
“Could I have a leg if I came for it
to morrow?” asked the poor little girl
softly.
“AVhat! hevon’t you a whole tur¬
key?”
“Never had one in iny life,” snid the
poor little girl.
“Then you shall have have this one
said the liule ]ady with the muffi
„ yir p ve go t some money in
my s , w ings bank at home, and my
papft gaid j cou]d do j u8t R3 j want0(1
wJth i{ . and I - m going to buy the
turkey for this little girl.”
Tbe poor little girl’s eyes grew so I
very large you would not have known
,.j s f la n love you always so
much _ 80 very) very muc h; and I’ll
go home for Foxy to help. Foxy is
my brother, and I know we can carry
him"
, hayfl Qot room t0 tell you all about
Jt; bu( . the poor little gi ,i got her tur- |
j. pv and papa b j s b ji b
“What’s this?” said he “another
sixty eighteen pounds; three dollars
cents.”
“That’s all right,” said the little
who had the muff. “1 bought
and gave him to a poor little girl
never ate one; and the money is
my iron bank.”
The bank was opened, and there
were just four big pennies in it.
A very generous little girl was this
whom the New York Tribune tells
this story; but, like some others of
she was generous with the money
some one else.
Centipedes, such as abound in New
\[ Px j L >o. make their attacks at night,
are armed with about 200 little
lashed t0 tb e too of each foot— j |
which they have several—and at
base 0 f cacb i ance a tiny sack of
l’caring for t he End.
Breathe soft end low, O whispering wind.
Above tile tangled gras-es deep,
Where those who lovod mo long ego
Forgot the world and fell asleep.
No towering shaft, or sculptured urn,
Or mausoleum’s empty pride,
Tells to tlie curious passer-b)
Their virtues or the time they died,
I count file old, familiar names,
O’ergrown with moss and lichen gray,
Where tangled brier and creeping vino
Across the crumbling tablets stray.
The summer sky is softly blue;
The birds still sing the sweet, old strain;
But something from the summer time
Is gone, that will not come again.
So many voices have been hushed,
So many songs have ceased for aye,
So many hands I used to touen
Are lolded over hearts of clay.
The noisy world recedes from moi
I cease to hear its praise or birr
The mossy marbles echo hack
No hollow sound of empty fam
I only know that calm and still
They sleep beyond lile’s woe and wail,
Beyond tho fleet of sailing c.ouds,
Beyond the shadow ol the vale.
I only feel that, tired and worn,
1 halt upon the highway bare,
And gaze witli yearning eyes bey
On fiolds that shine supremely
— Phtladilphia Bccord.
HUMOROUS.
The proper dessert for an under¬
taker is berry pie.
A man isn’t necessarily related to b
hen because he lays bricks.
An astonishing sign at a tobacco¬
nist’s in Paris: “No Smoking.”
The school ma’am who married a
tanner had evidently a glimmering of
the fitness of things.
Notwithstanding the depression in
business circles, the business of the
thief seems to be picking up.
AVhat is the worst tiling about rich¬
es?” asked the Sunday school superin¬
tendent. And tlie new boy said, "Not
having any.”
“The way to sleep,” says a scientist,
“is to think of nothing.” But this is
a mistake. The way to sleep is tc
think it is time to get up.
A contest between two dentists as
to which of the two could take out
most teeth in a given time resulted, as
was expected, in a draw.
After all, it is tho condition of trade
that regulates the fashions. Nearly
all kinds of garments are worn longer
in dull timos than in prosperous
times.
A young man who was jilted by life
girl, and subsequently married her,
sa.vs she treated him like a bottle of
parent medicine. He was “shaken"
before taken.
A writer has discovered that per
sons in captivity live a very short
Uine . This may be a rule, but w«
know of some married men who have
•**-»* . . » "markable , w age.
Naturalists say that the feet of tlie
common working honey bee “exhibit
the combination of a basket, a brush
and a pair of pincers.” This may be
true, but we never knew before that a
basket, a brush and a pair of pincers
were so warm to the touch,
Relic-Hunters at Washington.
Oh, those relic-hunters!
They seized on everything that they
could pull apart. At General Grant’s
first inauguration, the President had
scarcely retired from the grand stand,
when a crowd of citizens clambered
up the sides from the ground below,
and, within a minute, the chair which
the Chief Magistrate had occupioJ
was split into a score of fragments,-
one man capturing a leg of it, anothei
an arm, another a part of a rung, and
all marching away with them as tro
phies of the event 1 After the funcr
al ceremonies over Senator Sumnc,
the reiic-hunters sought to obtain
pieces of the mourning em l dei rn,
around his vacant chair. The crape
was cut into bits by a score of knives.
Indeed, the jack-knives even attack.-.)
the mahogany of the desk itself, and
a policeman had to be stationed at
the chair!
The relic-hunters go to Mount Vcr
non to visit the tomb of AVasldngton,
break the mortar and rocks from
walls of the old vault, cut twig*
from the shubbery and trees, and car
r 7 aw ay any little thing that, will
as a memento of the place I —St
AVhat tlie Matter Alas.
“So Clara Felton is married ?” said
Clifton belie to another.
“Yes, married last week in New
York.”
“AYho was the man ?”
“Mr. Clarence McSponter.”
“AVhat, that fellow we met at B n
?”
“The same ona”
“Gracious me, how did she come te
that green thing ?”
“Oh,” was the reply, in a commit r
tone, “poor Clara was always a
color blind, you know.— M<r
Traveller.