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ANDERSON & WALLIS, Proprietors
The Barley-Field.
summer airs awoke from sleep
The bailey stirs; the ripples creep
la shimmering ourves across its lea,
Expanding like a restless sea
Beneath the azure's radiant sleep.
What story trusted to its keep
In foolish oonfidenoe and deep
Is this it babbles eagerly,
O summer airs?
Is it a talo to make eyes weep ?
The thrilled and quickened pulses leap ?
Or hands to clap exultingly?
It murmurs thus to you and mo
As o’er its fair expanse you sweep,
O summer airs!
—Mary L. Goodrich in the Current.
JESSICA'S WOOER.
was very foolish of Mr. Peppers
totthink he could keep Jessica from
filling in love, and other people from
filling altogether in love with Jessica—she was
too pretty for that. Just
17, with a round rosebud face, a wealth
of dark brown hair, and the sweetest
tejnper in the world. It w r as a sight
to! see her upon her weather-beaten,
chpleric old father’s arm on the way
tofchurch.
He looked like a thunder cloud
Mich had captured a sunbeam; or, as
the young men irreverently said, a
pompous old turkey-cock escorting a
re.
glared about to the right and
left, snorting defiance at admirers, so
the sunbeam glowed and the dove
ttered under very difficult circum
But there she was, in spite
« the peculiar oppression, the bright
sweetest creature you can imagine;
with a native bit of coquetry
out her, too, that made even the
ting of those curling, dark lashes
perilous to the masculine
so plentiful about her. Calford
full ot young men.
were a college, and a naval
and a pianoforte manufac
there; then Calford was headquar
for artists—the scenery was so
And it chanced that there
ire few young ladies in the town.
’eter Peppers was a widower. He
1 brow-beaten his little wife to i
when she was very young. She
loft him two daughters—Rebecca,
was made of the same harsh ma
as her father, and Jessica, who
exceedingly like what the mother
been. There was no danger of
one falling in love with Rebecca—
Oi Becca, as she was called.
tartan! pucker y countenances
terror to the stoutest masculine
art, and she was left withering on
stem, in her 32d summer. Her
found in her a spirit equal to
own, but they botli agreed in keep¬
a strict watch upon Jessica. Yet,
spite of continual scolding and
Jessica continued to be
as a bird. She had youth
hope on her side, and she could ;
fail to go abroad withasp get- ;
g a hint of her power.
essiea had been allowed tin# pftrV
e of an intimate friend, a very
eet girl, afflicted with lameness,
Olive Aliys; but Olive’s two
thers came home from the sea, and
intimacy was interdicted by Mr.
ppers.
essiea was no more to visit her
end. !
do Mr. Peppers justice, he was
fond of Jessica and proud of her.
knew she was charming and good,
without much forethought, de- j
to keep her to himself. !
fate and Mr. D’Albert were too
for Mr. Peppers’s intentions.
Ir. D’Albert was the principal of
naval academy. He saw Jessica,
1, upon meeting her again at a
ireh party,-asked his landlady for
introduction to her. i
Hrs. Japonica hesitated, declaring:
‘Actually juldn’t I daren’t, Mr. Peppers
like it” i
“But k I should,” laughed Mr. D’Al j
fMr. in Peppers never a”ows gentle
to pay attention to Jessica. If it
ire Becca, now, the case would be
lerent.”
fit’s not Becca. I wouldn’t kiss
jcca FMercy! for fifty pounds.”
knee Well, when you get a
to kiss Jessica, let me know.”
i*I will.”
fir. he D’Albert went away and found
more daring soul to introduce
h to Jessica.
stood by her side some ten min
e, saying the usuai pleasant noth
p of society, admiring the smiling
! mouth and dimpled cheeks, and
sssing at the length of the curling
!k lashes, when Mr. Peppers, discov
Dg the situation, with a portentious
^ting up of his under lip, hastened
on the scene, and, frowning heavily
p Mr. D’Albert’s handsome face,
iw Jessica away.
iir. D’AlboiCs quiet smile told that
understood jiuniersioou me the situation situation, and anu look iook
on ou 1-iuffhe.l i.iugnea, l.nt out, no no on. one ummpd guesseu the rne
I of this Beginning.
Ir. D’Albert did not guess it him-
m \ 4 s* IN rw w 4
COVINGTON, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1886.
self until weeks had flown, and he had
accumulated a vast deal of informa¬
tion concerning the Peppers.
Then he became acquainted with
Olive Aliys, and the latter spoke of
her friend with enthusiasm.
“If I were a young man,” concluded
Olive, excitedly, “I’d fall in love with
Jessica, and run away with her. She
is so bright and pretty, and she never
gets taken out for a concert, or a ride,
or a sail, as the other girls do. They
keep her as close as a nun, and will
until she’s dried to parchment, like
Becca. I don't see how Jessica bears
it—I don’t!”
Mr. D’Albert had spells of o'Sep
thought after this conversation, espec¬
ially on learning that the only place
where Jessica was allowed to walk of
a Sunday evening was in the cemetery.
From his window it chanced, too, that
he could see the back garden where
Jessica sewed and read, and tended
her plants and canary, and daily his |
respect and interest deepened. He :
had half-a-dozen merry, joyous sisters
at home, and dwelt on the contrast.
Now it happened that Jessica
thought as much of Mr. D’Albert as
Mr. D’Albert thought of Jessica.
She knew his window in Mrs. Japon
ica’s pretentious boarding-house; knew
his horse when he galloped past her
father’s door; knew—at least, knew
well enough—where the lovely flowers
came from which sometimes reached
her.
Olive Aliys had a beautiful garden,
and Becca thought Olive sent them,
but Jessica knew well enough that tho
choice and costly selections came from
an unexpected quarter.
Mr. I)’Albert’s glance said as much
whenever she chanced to get a bow
from him; and if she blushed vividly,
who can wonder? She could not
think of one objection against Mr. j
D’Albert as a lover; nor, in reason,
could Mr. Peppers. He was every
1
inch a gentleman.
It was very accommodating of Bec¬
ca to fall ill. She was nut painfully
ill, only very sallow, and unable to
drive all before her in the household; J
so that she was exceedingly cross, and |
Jessica had a harder time than usual
at home.
The doctor ordered a change of
806*16
“I’d send you down to the seaside,
and Jessica might go with you to take
care of you,” said Mr. Peppers. 1
“There’s too many young men here 1
notice that naval fellow lifting his hat
to Jessica. But there’s always board- j
ers at the seaside in summer, and a
great deal of foolishness going on.”
“We could go to Mrs. Green’s,” said
there.” 1
Becca. “Nobody ever goes j
They could, and did—Mr. Peppers
first ascertaining that Mrs. Green had
no lodgers, and making her promise •
that she would take none while his
daughters remained.
It was a forlorn old place—isolated
enough, but comfortable and clean
within, and plenty of sea air.
Any change was a delight to Jessi
ca, and she climbed the rocks ami
splashed in the surf, with her cheeks
like roses and her eyes bright as
jewels,
“Laws!" said Mrs. Green; “see that
girl enjoy herself. Ain’t she a beauty!
it does iny heart good to look at her.
She’ll marry early—you'll see.”
“Indeed she won’t!” snapped Becca.
“We’ve other intentions.”
“ ‘Man but God disposes, » »>
proposes,
replied Mrs. Green, as she rattled her
knitting-needles. »
Invalidism compelled Miss Becca to
be a late riser. Jessica usually had a
sea bath and a run in the morning air
before her sister came down.
One morning, as she was tripping
across the dooryard, her attention was
attracted by a dog kennel, and a great
Russian boarhound rose up and looked j
nt her inquiringly.
Jessica stared, her bright eyes wid
ened, then she looked inquiringly
around. Rut there was no one but
the dog and herself in the yard, and as
he wagged his tail invitingly and look¬
ed kind, in spite of his deep mouth,
she drew near and patted liis great
head.
Jessica liked animals, especially
large dogs and horses. This dog wore
a handsome collar with his name
marked upon it—“Pasha”—also ^ his
owner’s name.
Jessica trembled a little as she read
the letters. Her cheeks burned, too. j
Then she heard Mrs. Greens voice
through the open window.
“Yes, Miss Peppers, I’ve taken a
dog to board. No harm in that, I
hope. Your pa couldn’t have no sort of
objection to him. 1 didn’t take his
master.”
-No!” snapped Miss Becca. “I hope
you didn’t take a man into the house!”
“He wanted to, though. He was a
stranger, but nice and pleasant-look
in«r ing, and ana I’d l a a a taken laaeu him but for my -
promise to to vrmr your na pa. He ne went wem to the
hotel, I suppose,'bout two miles below
here.” i
What makes such a swarm of dim¬
ples creep over Jessica’s satiny cheeks?
It seemed to her the brightest morning
she had ever known, though Becca
came out and scolded her for dampen¬
ing her feet and running out bare
headed.
How the sea glittered!—how the
waves raced up the beach! How
sweetly the little beach birds, swing¬
ing among the tall marsh grasses,
whistled and called.
Miss Becca came out.
“See what a nice dog, Becca,” said
Jessica, timidly.
Becca examined the great fellow
with her eye-glasses, while Jessica
trembled.
“1 suppose the great creature might
be of service to us, in case w r e should
meet a—man—in our walks,” she said.
"He’s very kind,” said Jessica.
It w r as soon apparent that Pasha
would follow her anywhere. He would
stalk contentedly at her side, and
when she sat down among the rocks,
lie down at her feet, with his head
upon her little shoe. He evidently
grew very fond of Jessica, and Jessica
was very fond of Pasha.
One day they were under the cliffs.
“Hark J" said Becca. “What’s that?”
It was somebody who was whistling
very clearly;
A fox jumped over the parson’s gate.
“A man!” said Becca. "If he come3
here I’ll set the dog on him,” she add¬
ed fiercely.
A handsome man somewhat under
30 came around the rocks, then paused
suddenly, lifting his hat.
Becca had no time to set the dog
upon him. Pasha was off like a shot,
yelping with delight. He leaped up,
planting his great fore-paws upon his
master’s breast and lapping his face.
“Down, down, Pasha, old fellow!
Tardon, ladies. Misses Peppers, I am
sure. I am sure I cannot be mistaken;
and perhaps you remember my face—
D’Albert of Calford. I have been in
the naval academy for the past year,
and know your respected lather well.
You are seeking your health down
^’ ss ^ e PI ,era - Ah» and find it.
A 011 are ookmg finely.
Few men have been brave enough
to compliment Becca. Perhaps that is
why she mentioned the sex so tartly.
Be that as it may, she forgot Jessica,
and received Mr. D’Albert very civilly.
He was at the Oliver Hotel. Pasha
was his property. He was on his way
to Mrs. Green’s, to pay the dog’s bill.
The four walked down the sands
together. Miss Becca did not see any¬
thing suspicious in the situation.
Perhaps she was a little bewildered
at having a gentleman’s arm to lean
on, and a gentleman’s strong hand to
help her over the rocks and gullies.
As for Jessica, who tripped lightly
ahead, with Pasha at her side, the sea
sparkled brighter and the waves raced
more madly than ever, Her cheeks
were like roses, and her eyes like dia¬
monds.
By paying marked attention to Bec¬
ca, Mr. D’Albert managed to get a
word and a glance from Jessica during
bis visits, whicli came weekly.
Mrs. Green stared.
“Well,” said Becca, apologetically,
“Mr. D’Albert is not like common
men.”
Certainly he was not, to undertake
the prosecution of so difficult a siege.
Demure little Jessica could not but
smile at the patience and zea! with
which her admirer continued his tac¬
tics.
It was a long time before Becca took
alarm and guessed the truth.
Mr. D’Albert came to Mrs. Green’s
on Pasha’s account. Pasha’s bravery
and intelligence was a subject upon j
which they all agreed.
Then, Mr. D’Albert made their stay
geas j,j e muc h pleasanter by fre
q Uen j sa ji s an( j rows He bided his |
^j me> and py anc ] py could not beshak
en off.
He loved Jessica, and Jessica had
learned to love him.
Why lie should not be her husband
Recca could not say, especially as Mr.
D’Albert coolly signified his intention '
of waiting any length of time for her
pretty sister.
Becca, who had fled from Calford
with Jessica, returned with her engag- }
ed, with her father’s consent, to Mr.
D . Albert
.Mr. Toppers, taken back by the situ
ation, had weakened, and finally yield
ed Pasha also approved. I
^ n( j a t the wedding Mrs. Japonica
had her opportunity to see Mr. D’Al
bert kiss his bride. Jessie..
~
----------------
Useful in On.-Way.
“Well, Booby,”said young Featherly.
« we had quite a pleasant time at the
house last evening.”
“Yes, indeed,” replied Booby; “ma
was speaking about it at the breakfast
table this morning.”
“So your ma enjoyed the evening,
too, did she?”
“Yes. She told pa that, . she , can „
think . . of „ you without ..... laughing. . .. I
never
New York Times.
CHILDREN’S COLUMN. '
Charity Triumphant.
One moment stood she silently in doubt.
Her tr< asure grasping tightly in her hand,
First looking at the tempting tilings spread out;
Red apples, cakes, and candies—on tho stand,
Then where the blind man, old and wau and
k«>y.
oai patiently, his good dog by his side,
Begging from all who chanced to pass that way
From early morn until even-tide:
One moment, then the poor child gave her all
To him who begged with piteous, sightless
eyes,
Only a penny ’twas; but though so small,
Her gift as gold will count beyond the skies.
— Harper’s Young People.
A Wise Captain.
A Nantucket steamboat captain was
once asked by a passenger on his boat
how much ardent spirits he used.
He replied, “I never drank a tea¬
spoonful of rum, brandy, gin, cider,
wine or beer; I never smoked or
snuffed, and never drank tea or
coffee. ”
“But,” said the passenger, “what do
you drink with your breakfast?”
“Cold water,” was the answer.
“And what with your dinner?”
“Cold water.”
“Well,” said the passenger, “but
what do you take when you are sick?”
“I never was sick in my life,” was
the ready and glad reply.
He was a wise captain. He was
accustomed to exposure in all sor s oi
bad weather, wind and storm, and
never believed in the foolish notion
that he must take a drop of spirits to
“keep out the cold.”
Cold water was the drink of Adam
in Paradise. Cold water was tht
drink of the children of Israel in the (
wilderness. It was also the drink oi |
Samson, and of Daniel, and of John '
the Baptist. It is the best drink for
you .—Little Sower.
Vqiiirrei Navigators.
“Dear Jack, "’ rltes Jeanette C |
“may I tell your children what a squir
rel d “
“She invented a boat to carry her
babies in. At all events, a gentleman
writing to a paper called the
Blade says ne saw iier do it, and l lie
lieve him, for even animal mothers
will do wonderful things when theii
babies are in question.
“They were on their way to a new
part of the country in Ohio, and in the
course of their travels they came to a
creek. Mother squirrel tried to in- :
duce the babies to swim across the
stream, but—bless their little hearts !
they were afraid, and could not pluck
up courage even with mother to help
them.
“The squirrel mother was very much
distressed at this, and lor a few mo
ments seemed at a loss what to do.
There was the creek, and it must be
crossed. Pretty soon a bright idea |
struck her, and she ran briskly up and
down the bank of the stream until she
found a piece of wood about a foot
long and half a foot wide.
“She dragged that to the edge of the
stream and pushed it into the water
until only one end of the piece of
wood rested lightly on the bank.
“Then she coaxed the babies to walk
out on the little boat. They stepped
on board very timidly and snuggled
closely together. The little mother
then pushed the boat into the stream,
and taking hold of it with her teeth,
swain behind it until it touched the
opposite bank, when the babies scam¬
pered nimbly ashore, delighted to know ;
that their mother was placidly follow- | ,
ing them.” j
This story is all very well and very j j
true, but I have one to match it. One
day the dear little schoolma’am saw a
squirrel sailing on the creek that runs
by the red schoolhouse. To be sure j
>
there was no sail to the boat, and there
was no boat either, for that matter.
The squrrel was seated high and dry
on a big piece of bark an I another
squirrel was swimming behind and
steadily pushing the barque (as the
ieacon calls it). Whether the furry |
passenger was timid, or merely lazy, I
canno t sa y, but probably she was the
mother of the family, and she was
used to being waited upon. — St. Nicho
j as
An u Ilfonnded * nsi)it .|oi,.
A student at the University of Texas !
(g lnuch add i c ted to writing verses.,
Not long since Gilhooiy * said to the I
y 0un(y man :_ »
“You seem to be low snirited ‘ ^ to ^
lav y.
“ Yes and I have eood cause for it
I proposed to Miss - Fanny J Blinker ’ and
she J t t - .
g '
Gilho.dv '
‘
^ „
•• Well uerhans P she has never re.d
J ( y \ g , he °
' your poems * and that will ,, convince her
that her suspicions are unfounded, , . , J
^ imagine how the rumor not out
yQU were # Texas Siftings. >
FROM BULL RUN TO LIBBY.
A Reminiscence of the Noted
Confederate Prison.
What it Cost a Congressman to See the
Pirst Tight of the War.
“It was a happy morning for Alfred
Ely when Charles J. Faulkner walked
into our ollice at Libby,” said Captain
Warner, the former Quartermaster at
Libby Prison, to a Chicago Herald
correspondent at Centralia, Ill. “Ely
had exhausted the vast resources of an
inventive mind to have his govern
ment get him out of the predicament
which had befallen him by reason of
his venturesome trip to see the first
battle of Bill Run. The Lincoln Ad
minstration, while anxious and willing
to return him to his people, could not
make a general exchange of prisoner .
(a consummation repeatedly sought
for by Elj ) without recognizing the
seceding states a belligerent power,
and, along with other men who had
met a similar fate, lie was forced to
remain our prisoner. “I well remem¬
ber the morning Faulkner arrived at
Richmond. He, as you know', had
been Minister to the Court of St.
James’s, and when the war broke out
he came home and was arrested and
cast into a Northern prison. He was
aftei^vard allowed to proceed on his
parole to the South for the purpose of
bringing about his exchange with Ely.
The people in Richmond received him
with open arms. He was exceedingly !
popular and when he made known the
terms of his exchange the authorities
said they would give a half dozen Elys
for him. He came to the prison of¬
fice and in the absence of General
Winder 1 received him, and he at once
made known his business. I was
much pleased, not only because of
Faulkner’s return, but because 1 was
glad to see Ely return to his home. I
at once went to hunt Elv, and finding
redeemer has
come.’ I took him into the office and
there introduced them Of course the
meet ing was mutually agreeable. Some
NortherQ pe0[)le had intrusted to
Faulkner a sum of money (ijzwj in
gold do]]ara to be distributed among
the most needy prisoners The money
-
Captain Gibbs, the prison commander,
turned over to Ely, who, in company
with Lieutenant Booker, officer of the
day, went among the men and faith
fully discharged their duty. It so
.happened that a certain Carpenter
thought Ely had not dealt fairly with
him in the distribution of the money,
and lie got even with him in a manner
which I shall now relate. Ely had
done a great deal of writing while a
prisoner, and he wanted to take all of
his papers along with him should he !
ever be released He therefore aske d
me to allow tho carpenter to make
him a trunk in which to pack his
effects. I did so, but Ely imagined
that we would not allow him to take
all, so he prevailed on the carpenter to
construct a secret receptacle in
bottom of the box. Afterward lie
found out that there would be no
trouble in his taking anything he
wanted, and, for fear we would dis¬
cover his trick, he tore out the fixture
without telling the carpenter what he
had done. After Faulkner came and
Ely was exchange ! the carpenter
blowed the whole business to an officer.
and a man was sent out in hot haste
to capture both Ely and his trunk.
He went aboard the truce boat and
bored a big hole in the bottom of the
box, but of course it was a false alarm,
and the distinguished ex-prisoner was
allowed to proceed on his way rejoic¬
ing.” Captain Warner, who related
the above, now resides here. He is
favorably mentioned in Ely’s book on
Libby Prison as being kind to Union
prisoners. Ely, as all remember, was
the Congressman from the Rochester,
N. U district, who went down to see
the sights at Bull Run fight, and was
taken a ,, ri80ner and taken to Libby,
ji 0 j g now residing at Rochester,
N. Y.
Menders of Mater.
The tannin of tea is thrown down
by the lime of hard water, so that if
tea is infused in hard water at least
one-third is wasted. Hard water
used for boiling meat and vegetables
extracts their juices less thoroughly
than soft water does. Potatoes con
tain . „„ 75 PCr C ®. n . ” .... f " at ® r; t “ r “ lpS an
' ’
P er cent-; f rmlk ’ parts. I he quah
water when pure is not impaired
by stagnancy nor liable to fermenta
deca y or putrescence; it would
k **l> 5000 years and be neither better
nor worse for keeping.
Four closed jars, buried seventeen
centuries at Pompeii, and taken from
there, were found to contain atom for
atom as the sams free air we breathe.
The same is said of water ’ A n influx
of organic refus mto a stream will
a «eet it for several miles in its course.
hut out »r at a a Ionizer innzer distance uisuiuic the u. oxidation u of
the foreign m itter will take place and
will restore the water to a purified
Bt * 1 ^-Philadelphia News.
VOL. XII. NO ; 11.
The Dfasscl.
What really prevents the mussel be¬
ing more extensively use! In this
country is the dread of its poisonous
qualities. This evil reputation is not
unfounded, though in reality a' death
or an illness from mussel poisoning is
much rarer than a similar misadvent
ure from eating the wrong kind of
fungus. Along the coast, in their
natural condition, especially when
picked from the coppered piles of
wharves and piers, they are sometimes
ill-conditioned. But reared in beds, the
are invariably plump, delicate in flavor,
and perfectly safe as food. It is gen
erally something extraneous rather
than any disease inherent in the mus¬
sel, that occasions the bad repute un¬
der which they labor. The worst case
happened some sixty years ago, when
no fewer than thirty people in Leith
showed serious symptoms of poison¬
ing, and two of them died; but it was
proved that the mussels had been
gathered from the copper sheathed
piles of the docks. It is true, however,
that under certain circumstances, pu¬
trescent sewage matter and the pois¬
onous spawn of its enemy, the star
fish, have been believed to make the
mussel unwholesome food. At par
ticular periods, also, various molluscs
are injurious, while at others they aro
perfectly wholesome, The oyster,
though not actually poisonous when
ou ^ season > > s by no means suitable
^ or table, and probably tho mussel
shares its peculiarities in this respect,
A near ally of the mussel, the Mediter¬
ranean Noah’s Ark shell, is eaten with
perfect safety during the entire year,
except summer months a fact well
known to the Neapolitans, who rarely
infringe the rule without disastrous
consequences. Every sort of shell
' 3 to this drawback; three
>’ ear3 a S° two children were alleged to
have died at Rothesay from the eating
°t periwinkles, l'he nature of the
g round has likewise a marked effect
on the quality. In Falmouth Ray,
some mussels, picked over the place
where a copper lobs cropped out, were
so impregnated with verdigris that a
hundred of them calcined in a crucible
metal as bixr as
P in ’ 3 head. However, if proper pre
cautions are taken, the mussel is per
| fectl cultivated y safe - that, Jt is in - moreover, Kiel Bay, branches so easily
i
laid down in the sea are taken up two
j or three years Jater laden with a mark
e table crop. The alarm produced by
the idea its noxioi18 qualities un
doubtedly does much to stop its con-
3Uin ption. Fashion, nevertheless, is
not guiltless in the matter. At one
time, for example, the mussel was ex
ten sively eaten in Edinburgh. Now
ada >’ 3 is in such scant demand that
a Newhaven fishwife is recorded, in
bribing the condition of a spiritless
lister, to have lamented that she nev
«; Jose aboon mussels. -London
- -
The Wealth 0 f Chill.
The wor jj’ s supply of nitrate of
soda and guano has been obtained
from the arid rainless west coast re
gions of South America. Along the
southern coast of Peru are a series of
rocky, desolate islands on which no
rain ever falls and only the gentlest
breezes sweep. There are at present,
as there have been for centuries, my
r ; ads of sea-birds along the coast, and
they, with thousands of sea lions, live,
breed and die upon these islands,
Guano is a mixture of the excrement
of these seals and birds, the decom
posed bodies of both and the bones of
the fishes which have been their food.
These deposits have been accumulat
ing for centuries and in many places
are hundreds of feet deep, baked into
a solid mass by the tropical sun.
These masses of guano were worked
by the Peruvian Government from
1846, when their value as fertilizers
became understood, up to the war
with in jggQ_ T p 0 annua i 8 hip.
ments to Europe and the United
States amounted to millions of tons,
valued at between $20,000,000 and
$30,000,000, all above the expense of
working being clear profit This
should have enriched Peru, but it
merely enriched her governing classes.
During the war the Chilians seized the
islands and annexed them to ChilL
There have been no exports of guano
since, but the Chilian Government is
making preparations to resume the
shipments, and it will probably be in
the market again next year .—Boston
Commercial Bulletin.
Mistake of a President’s Wife.
A humorous incident is told around
town, says a City of Mexico letter.
General Lallane sent President Diaz a
sack 0 f locusts to show the enormous
size , an d the messenger, instead of de
ii ve ring the same at the office, deliv
e red them at the residence, where the
eoo k, mistaking them for some new
ies of crab served them up. and
when \ on ,, the table , ,, the mistake .. , was
discovered by Mrs. Diaz, . but . not . . be*
fore the family had partaken of some.
Till Then, Good Night.
Good night ! I have to say good nig>
To such a host of hostless things !
Good night unto that fragile hand,
All queenly with its weight of rings;
Good night to fond uplifted eyes,
Good night to chestnut braids oi hair,
Good night unto the perfect mouth
Aud all tho sweetness nestled there
The snowy hand detains me—then
I’ll have to say good night again.
But there will come a time, my love !
When, if I read our stars aright,
I shall not linger by this porch
With my adieus. Till then, good night!
You wish the time were now ? Aud I.
Xou do not blush to wish it so ?
You would have blushed yourself to ‘loath
To own so much a year ago.
What? Both these snowy hands ! Ah,
then,
I'll l*vo to say good night again.
— Thomas Bailey Jllirich.
HUMOROUS.
The first thing in a boot is the last.
“Foreign relations”—French uov
e * 9 -
A seamstress’ exclamation — “A
hem!”
Nothing tries the sole of a man
more than a shoe-peg.
The crow is not a particularly musi¬
cal bird, but the farmer always asso¬
ciates him with the corn-et.
Talking about antiquity and the age
of thiDgs, we submit that the oldest
berry is the elder berry.
The only persons in the world who
do not like to see redeeming qualities
in the human race are the pawnbrokers
Two stupid Michigan hunters shot
a woman, mistaking her for a bear. A
woman should never be mistaken for
anything but a dear.
A snail who goes about his business
and doesn’t stop to gossip with every
bug he meets can creep 300 feet be¬
tween sunup and sundown, That’s
far enough for any snail.
“Johnny, is your sister in?” ** J
don’t know. Lemme see—what’s
your name?” 'Barnes—Mr. Barnes.”
j ‘ All right, Mr. Barnes. Y ou just sit
flown and 111 ask Sis whether she s
1‘ome, but I don’t think that’s the
"ame.
Professor—Whv does a duck put
his head underwater? Fupil—For
divers reasons. Professor—Why does
he go on land? Pupil-For sundry
reasons. Professor Next, iou may
tell us w r by a duck puts his head under
water. Second Pupil—To liquidate
his bill. Professor And why does
he go on land ? Second 1 upil To
make a run on the bank,
How Many Eggs Hill a Hen Lay?
VVo often read of hens that ... lay . onn 200
eggs a jear, s.i)s le a
*"* bUt such Btatementedomorehar
‘ hR “ g * .°° d believe ’ ^be ^ a fact
« w ho s fam har t aI
moulting
or shedding of feathers. This requires
usually about three months, or one
hundred days. As there are only 365
da ys in a year, we have 265 days left
after deducting the moulting period,
if a hen lays regularly an egg every
other day she will lay 133 eggs; but
s |i e W }11 probably lose three months In
hatching out her broods; even if she is
a non-sitter she will take a resting
place. As moulting is a heavy dralD
0 n the system, but few hens lay dur
f n g that process, though there aro ex¬
ceptions, and where the number ot
eggs exceed one every two days, it will
j be found that during a corresponding portion reduct- of the
j on occurs some
year. While we admit that certain in
dividual hens have been known to lay
as many as 150 to even 175 eggs In a
year, such cases are rare; and if one
has a flock of twenty hens or more he
should be satisfied if there is an aver
age of one hundred eggs a year for the
whole flock, or rather nine dozen.
Four dozen out of tho nine should re
a j ize thirty cents per dozen, three do<r
en should bring about twenty cents
per dozen, and two dozen should real¬
ize fifteen cents per dozen, on an aver
a go of about twenty-three cents. Of
course this calculation may be wrong,
but it will convey an idea of what may
be expected.
Where Solitude Reigns.
“ Then you don’t like solitude, Mr.
Snipps ?”
“No, indeed. Miss Gusher; I <ion
like it a bit.”
“I always thought it would be a
grand to have a chance to meditate ii
absolute quiet.”
“You’d get precious tired of it In i.
little while; I can tell you that.”
“Did try it, Mr. Snippsi ’
you ever
“Did I ever try it? Well, I should
shudder.”
•‘Oh, dear, how charming. Whir’
was it, Mr. Snippe?”
“Last summer. Miss Gusher.”
“Oh, I know; you weat to the
wo ds-”
“Nut much J didn’t I clerked in a
store that didn’t advertise.”—Chicago
Ledger.