Newspaper Page Text
The Covington Star,
J, W. ANDERSON, Editor and Prop ietor.
The
rin d of the North,
’jud of the Norland snows,
tad of the winnowed skies and sharp,clear
stars—
low cold and keen across the naked hills,
nd crisp the lowland poois witb crystal
films,
D d blur tbe casement squares with glitter¬
ing ice,
jut go not near my love.
yind of the West,
yind of the few, far clouds, ,
yiudof the gold and crimsou sunset lands—
[ r esh atul pore across the peaks and
plains, the
iud broaden the blue spaces of heavens,
mil sway the grasses and the mountain
pines,
lut let my dear one rest.
mind of the East,
IVind of the sunrise seas,
K ind of the clinging mists and gray, harsh
I rains—
Blow moist and chili across the wastes of
Lndsbut brine,
the sun out, and the moon and
Lud stars,
lash the boughs against the drlppiiu;
eaves,
[yet keep thou from my lore.
But thou, sweet wind!
Wind of the fraxrant South,
[Wind from the bowers ot jasmine anu of
rose—
Over magnolia glooms and tilied takes
And flowering forests come with dewy
wings,
And stir the petals at her feet, and kiss
Tue low mound where she lies.
— [Charles Henry Luders.
LOST MR. GREYLAND.
HERO STRONG.
She was a proud woman always,
and just now she was a very angry
one.
Her fine figure was drawn up to its
utmost height, her brown eyes Hashed
so they looked bluck, and a vivid
crimson burned on her check, whoso
brightness no oriental rouge could
ever hope to rival, Imogene Leigh
had always been handsome—tonight
site was magnificent.
Charles Greyland could not help
admiring iter, even while iter glance
of scorn burned into ids soul and
crushed out tlie deep lovo ho thought
he tioro her.
lie was rich and she was poor, and
in that fact lay thc c iuse of the trou¬
ble. Some kind friend—everybody
lias these kind friends, you know—
had insinuated tiiat Imogeno was
marrying Mr. Greyland for his
money; and Greyland, in a moment of
pique occasioned by Imogette’s danc¬
ing twice with a handsome consin of
iter own, had lot fall something of tlie
kind in her hearing. Of course Grey¬
land was a fool, but not so much of a
one that bo was not sorry for his folly
the instant tho tiling was dono, but he
was too proud to say so. lie did not
for a moment believe that Imogene’s
love for him was influenced by his
fortune; he had only spokon thus be¬
cause he was angry, and angry peoplo
are generally idiots for tlio time be
lllg.
Never would he forget tlio flash of
Imogene’s eyes, or tlie keen sarcasm
of her tone, as she answered him:
“You are free Mr. Greyland. A
man with a soul so small that he deems
a few paltry thousands of more conse¬
quence than himself, should seek a
mate from among his owm kind. Take
back your ling. It is a diamond, aud
as such no[doubt valuable to you. ff
He set his heel on tlie bauble and
ground it into tlio carpet; thou he
said a few angry words, for which he
would always be sorry, and left her.
They went their separate ways, aud
tried their best to show their faces to
the world bright and gay.
Imogeno succeeded admirably, but
Mr. Greyland overshot tlio mark, and
people said lie was getting frivolous
ami (he pastor of his church “labored >
with him, and won Hie everlasting
dislike of his wealthiest parishioner
by so doing.
About this tiino Marge Atherton
came to tlie city where our disunited
lovers dwelt, and here was a Hold of
labor just suited to her. She had been
some years in pursuit of a rich hus¬
band, but the man she desired to honor
was slo w in making bis appearance,
and there was a strong prospect that
Mi« Atherton, in .pile of her me.ii
““rict r<££ "
wintry where it i. generally .uppoeetl
they do not raise women.
Mr. Grevland was the very subject ,
for her. Site set iiereelf to work ..
once to conquer him. She flattered
him, sho deferred to him she aske J
h.s opinion ou every trifling thing,
and poor Grevlatid’s heart was so sore
that he was glad of anything by way
°f balsam.
The very day that he had mado up
!,i8 n,i,,d t0 propose, fate stepped in
and did a good stroke of business for
hint. '
A great financial crisis occurred, and
•Wept away every tjollar he possessed,
twenty-four hours the new,
was all over the oity; and when, a
day or two afterward, Greyland,
aohing for sympathy and love, went
to call on Miss Atherton, she was
“not at home,” though he could have
sworn he heard her at the top of the
stairway.
And that ended their acquaintan ce
Miss Atherton married a seventy
five year old millionaire, who willed
all his property to a home for old wo¬
men when ho died; and Greyland be¬
came misanthropic, and took to keep¬
ing dogs and smoking cigars innumer¬
able.
Things with him were not so bad as
at first suspected. They never are, at
least in stories, and lie had after all,
a few thousands left, lie went into
business ou a small scale, but tbe
confinement of tbe counting room in¬
jured his health, and sometime in tho.
summer his physician sent him to thc
White Mountains to recruit.
Meanwhile Imogeno Leigh had be¬
come an heiress. A great aunt of
Iters, after living fifteen years beyond
tlio ago of man, and tormenting the
lives almost out of everybody who had
anything to do with her, had died re
spectabiy one night in her bed, and
when Iter will was opened, her greedy
relatives found that she bad be
queathed everything to a grand-niece
they had scarcely heard of.
But it was no use to get angry, and
so they wore all very sweet and affec¬
tionate when Imogene came and took
possession of Beechlawn.
But the girl found the great hou-e
very lonely, and so in July sho joined
Mrs. Judge Kendall’s party and went
to tlie mountains.
And so it happened that at the
Crawford IIouso tlie names of Imo
gene Leigh and Charles Greyland
stood one above the other on tlie
clerk’s register.
They met at breakfast. Im igcne in
her crimson morning robe, with her
silky black hair rippling down over
iter shoulders, and her white hands
8 paikliug with diamonds—not his dia¬
monds, however—looked very fair
and queenly as sho 6at opposite to him
and sipped iter coffee, aud carried on a
brilliant fire of repartee with Judge
Kendall. To have seen iter and Grey¬
land, nobody would ever have dreamed
that they had once been ali tho world
to each other.
Two or three days passed away.
Somebody introduced Mr. Greyland
and Miss Leigh, and they had ex¬
changed a few well-bred platitudes
and drifted apart, That night Grey
land tossed until morning in his bed—
audibly anathematizing the mattress
for his restlessness—and Miss Leigh
nearly succeeded in making herself
believe that the winds in the corridors
were keeping her awake.
Noxt morning Greyland started off
alone for Mount Washington.
Everybody told him to take a guide,
and spoke of tho danger of going into
those mountain wilds alone, but he
laughed at them, He was not going
to convert himself into a hero by
getting lost—not lie! He should dine
at tho Tip Top House, and be back in
season for stowed partridge at thc
Crawford.
Imogene sat on tlie piazza doing
some trifle in green Berlin wool, and
heard every word, Of course it was
nothing to her any way, but after Mr.
Greyland disappeared in tho scrubby
evergreens which clustered around tlie
entrance to thc bridle path, sho was
conscious of a feeling of something
lost out of tiie brightness of the day.
Clouds began to gather over the
summit of Mount IV illard. A party
who had ascended early in the morn¬
ing came down drenched ; and by and
by tho equestrians who had go no up
to Mount Washington just after Grey
land’s departure returned cold and
blue. on
A hard storm was in progress
the mountains—the mist and fog were
almost blinding—and Mr. Greyland
had not been seen or heard from.
Grave apprehensions were entertained
for his safety among those who under¬
stood the danger of being lost on tho
mountains, and tho gentlemen stood
apart in knots, and discussed the inat
"! i 0 ™"ind gloom wore
““ “ J'tv, “ i —Nt
oput , ul t .he bud .nt .11
tiie . wilu Jiowi ox
night, -L, o to
BoaolpU, lb. hound of
the j n ' na ’’ left
m ‘ ss »
,
chainei re J ^ of da wn a party
of guides half-dozen friends of
Giejlat ^ ^ fof
i him.
All d; > - y
-v. iev
paths, only hftd beeH d5s
.
went,
j covered. la again"
j n»st> A "°’^ morning, thev went
COVINGTO N, GEORGIA. TUE SDAY, -JUNE 2 1891.
forth on their quest—this time with
little hope of finding him alive; but,
as one of the guides remarked:
“It looked unchristian not to find
'.ho body and give it a decent burial.
Iinogene heard what the man said,
and for a moment her heart stopped.
She knew now that in spite of all the
scorn she had tried to feol for Charles
Grey laud, she had never ceased to
love him.
And now he was dead.
Ko, no, she would not admit the
thought! He must be living! God,
tv ho was so good-—who loved all his
creatures—would surely suffer her to
And him, to ask his pardon for the
past, to tell him that in spite of every
thing she loved him still I
She threw a shawl over her shoul
ders and went to the room he had last
occupied. The key was not there, but
her own key fitted tbe lock. She
went in and released the dog, which
sprang into her arms with a erv almost
human in its sorrow and despair.
She hugged the wretched animal to
tier breast, for had he not loved and
caressed Rudolph!
She said not a word to any one, but,
preceded by the dog, she took the path
she had seen Greyland take.
Iiough and stony, full of mud-holes,
barred by brushwood, and obstructed
by gullies, she found the way, ' but she
followed tbe dog.
AU the long forenoon she went on,
faint, almost despairing, and so weary
that it seemed at each successive step
as i f she must sink down.
... Rain, and , mist, . , and , fog, - were all
around , Her—she , , could ,, see scarcely
s
rod , in . advance, and , many a tune . she
trod , tne . extreme edge , of preoipice
a
all ,, unawares. Aud Rudolph 1 led her
on.
At last they found him ?
The glad barking of the dog a little
ahead sent joy to Imogene’s heart.
She leaped forward and sank down
helpless by the side of CLarloa Grey¬
land. He was sheltered by a rock and
lie was smoking a cigar, and altogether
seemed quite comfortable for a man
who had been two nights lost in the
mountains.
Imogene would have fallen back on
her pride even now, but it was too
late. Greyland had her in his arms,
and was kissing her cold lips in a way
that mado all attempts at remonstrance
useless.
“You did love me after all, darl¬
ing I” he cried; “and I thank Heaven
for being lost; and 1 don’t mind tho
cold and wet, an d hunger, a bit. Put
your arms round my neck, dear, and
teli me that yon forgive my hateful
conduct of a year ago, and tell me
that you lovo me.
Aiul she obeyed him meekly enough,
while Rudolph capered around them,
and expressed his satisfaction in a
series of joyful howls, which woke all
the mountain echoes for miles around.
Thc party out in search heard tho
dog, and were guided to tho spot, and
by sundown everybody was safely
basking in tlio warmth of the groat
wood-fire in the drawing-room of the
Crawford.
Two weeks afterward Charles Grey¬
land and Imogene were married, and
a happier home than theirs I do not
think yon have over seen. Neither do
I think tiiat a more contented, self
satisfied-looking dog than Rudolph ex¬
ists.—[New York Weekly.
Books Neither Written nor Printed.
Thc Prince de Ligtto is tlie possessor
of a curiosity of literature, It is a
book tiiat is neither written nor
printed.
ii IIow can that be?” you ask.
Well, tlie letters aro all cut out of
the finest vollum and pasted on blue
paper. The book is aB easy to read as
if printed from the clearest type. Tho
precision with which these small
characters are cut excites infinite ad
miration for tho patienco of the
author. Thc book, by the way, bears
the title “Liber Passionis Nostri Jesu
Christi, cum chaiactcribus nulla ma¬
teria composita. The book of the
Passion of Our Jesus Christ, with
characters not composed of any ma¬
terial. Rudolph II.
The German Emperor
is said to have offered in 1840 tho
enormous sum of eleven thousand
ducats for this curious work of art.
Strangely enough, tbe book bears the
English arms, though it is supposed
never to have been iu England. •[!!
iustrated American.
Music from Afar.
Frank White, a ditch-tender for the
South Yuba Company, who makes his
headquarters at Crystal Springs, is
handy with the violin, Frequently
these etorinr evenings the people at
the various stations along the line
him to rosin the bow and give them
telephone concerts, They hear
music 20 or more mites away as
ly as thongh they were at the
gide.—[Nevada Transcript.
THH SWAXIiTANS.
A Curious People Living in the
Heart of the Caucasus.
Poor and Degraded, Yet Occu¬
pying Magnificent Castles.
Before the Anthropological Society
of St ’ Petersburg, a member, Dr.
older °L r S e > read recently au interest
in & P a Porontherosultsofhisexplo
rations in the heart of Caucasia. He
had P enetratcd where few explorers
had bee “ ^fore. Ho came to Swaneta,
! a loil S but nnrrow at foot
of tliC Etburz Mountain > through
wluca thc river In - 00! ' a winds - For
m08t of tllc y ear Swaneta is isolated
eutirel>r fr0,n tho world ' and even in
tlie BHU >»’or season the mountain passes
leading t0 the localit >' aie mado ex ’
t,emcly dau S erou8 b f water currents,
avalanches, and falling rocks. There
is a 6tra,, " e selai - Ba vago people in the
Tallcy "““Coring about 9000 fum
lhei ’ The >' * ubsist oa lheir cbase
for wild a " imals of wbich therc
19 an abundance in thc mouu
tain8 ’ and iu the mild 80ason of the
y ear P ,ant as ,m,ch & rain as is re ‘
( f lred for lheir immediate necessity,
^ ver > uo ' v aud d,en a Swanetan will
wander awa y trom his secluded home
in ‘° a more civiiized neighborhood to
ieU a few hides a,ld lo 5 " exchange
a few thhl ^ tbat 116 misses in hi. na
Uve va ‘ le ?’ guch 119 cloth ’ cottou fab '
ncs and some arti< les of apparel. 11 But
this ho does very seldom and with
'
great . unwillingness, for his needs
are
few - and ... his native valley ,, has , made ,
.. him , love .... isolation. They spoak dta
a
lect . . the principal . . , element , \ of , which , . , is .
Georgian, with Persian ami Kirgueso
terms of speech strongly intermixed.
They are of a pacific nature nml ex¬
tremely shy of strangers. Dr. Older
ogge introduced himself to them as a
hawker, and, trying to trade with
them, drew them into conversation
and made his studies and observa¬
tions.
Tlip. dress and manner of living of
the Swanetans present a striking con¬
trast to the dwellings they occupy.
They cover their bodies with hides in
the wiuter and go about half naked in
tho warm season of the year; of clean¬
liness and comfort they know noth¬
ing, and there arc no luxuries among
them. But they live in ancient castles
of magnificent construction, though
more than half ruined. Tliore is quite
a numbor of such castles in the moun¬
tain that encircle the Swanetan valley.
The Swnnetans have a sort of writing,
and their folk lore is rich in curious
traditions and quaint legends, point¬
ing to a time when their intercourse
with the world was more frequent
than at present, and when they
ranked among the strong and civilized
peoples of the region, But all this is
dying out with them. They worship
four divinities and sacrifice animals
unto them. Their conceptions of those
deities are strikingly suggestive of
corrupted notions of the Trinity and
the Virgin, and indicate that they
wore once Christians, but lapsed into
heathenism before Christianity took
deep root among them. They are
strangers to all that we accept as so¬
cial morality. There is a terribio per¬
centage among them of lunatics, idiots,
epileptics, and those stricken with
cognate, physical and nervous dis¬
eases.
Tho physical deformities of thc
Swanetans are commensurate with
their moral deterioration, and show
that they must have lived as they live
now for many generations, Their
heads are flattened nt the back and
abnormally elongated in the temples;
they are marked with strong progna
tism and with diasthem of both the
upper and lower teeth. Nearly all the
Swanetans have goitres, which begin
to develop at a very early age. It is
interesting to notice that a branch
the same people living more southerly
in the district called Didian-Swaneta,
more accessible to tho influences of thc
outside world, presents a more normal
element, both morally and physically,
than the Swanetans here
[New York Sun.
Maklng Fishhooks.
There is n little machine
inrns out fishhooks in six strokes.
Stroke No. 1 bites off a morsel
steel wire; No. 2 makes tho
where yon fasten your line; No.
backs thc other end; No. 4
and bends back the barb; No. 5
the point; No. 6 bends tlie wire
your fishhook drops into a little
ready to be finished. Then it is
japanned—these are the
olaek fishhooks—or it is tempered
the delicate blue yon sometimes see
cutlery. For this finish it is
red-hot and then cooled in
cage Tribune.
The Burnham industrial Farm*
At Canaan Four Corners, N. Y., is
an institution chartered by the State of
Now York,designed to furnish a home
and Christian training for unruly ami
homeless boys. Its methods are
unique, but tlio results obtained have
fully justified them. TV. M. F. Round
and his wife devote, without remunera¬
tion, a considerable portion of their
time, energy and money to this work,
and their benevolence has been recent¬
ly supplemented by the gift of $10,.
000 for tho construction of the now
Gilpin memorial building. Mrs. Mary
Sophia Gilpin, lato of Wilmington,
Del., during her lifetime expressed a
wish to leave some of her property for
the purpose of assisting in the educa¬
tion of moral improvement of boys,
but at her death no wilt was discover¬
ed. Two of her sisters, Miss Sarah L.
Gilpin and Mrs. Elizabeth Maury of
Morristown, N. J., decided, however,
to appropriate a portion of the pro¬
perty coming to them from their sister
in furthering her expressed wish.
They f presented accordingly the sum
of $10,000 to the Burnham industrial
farm to he used in tho erec¬
tion of some permanent building fo r
the enlargement and better acooinmo.
elation of tho institution's work- Tho
proposed building is to be situated on
the most prominent part of tho farms,
on the high ground overlooking Lake
Quoechy to the north and commanding
a wide view of hill country to the east
and south. The building will include
the boys’ department, quarters for tho
matron, accommodations for visitors
and tlie director’s homo. Only about
one-half of thc boys now at tho farm
are to have quarters at the building,
the rest living in cottages near by',
eacli cottage to accommodate about
ten boys and to be in cliargo of one of
the brotherhood. The building of tho
Gilpin memorial is only one of tile
steps iu the process of enlarging the
institution from its present capacity
until it shall bo able to accommodate
from 1000 to 1200 boys. The institu¬
tion depends entirely upon voluntary
contributions for its enlargement and
support, and it takes bovs from all
parts of tho country. Six states aro
represented by the present member¬
ship.— [Boston Transcript.
Making It Rather Personal.
This is credited as ono of General
Lew Wallace’s Turkish jokes: Thoro
lived in Slamboul, Turkey, a well-to
do Turk named Ismail Ilassam. Ho
did not itavo tho imagination of a
Rider Haggard, but he was endowed
with a ready Oriental wit that stood
him well in hand when ho was in a
tight place. A neighbor called on
Ismail one day and wanted to borrow
his donkey to use an hour. Ismail
mado a low salaam and said:
“Neighbor, I am sorry, but my boy
started on the donkey an hour ago to
Scutari. By now ho is gayly trotting
over tho hills far from the sacred pro¬
ducts of Stamboul.
Just as Ismail finished his speech,
a donkey’s loud bray was heard in tlio
stable, which was under the same roof
as Ismail’s house, but in the rear. Tho
neighbor said:
“Alt, I hear your donkey bray.”
Ismail protested that Ins neighbor’s
ears wore deceived, and that tho noiso
was not a donkey’s bray. Then tho
donkey, which was supposed to bo
jogging along toward Scutari, brayed
twice loudly.
It was too much, and the neighbor
cried:
i i Oh, that is your donkey, Ismail;
Allah help me, I can now borrow
him.
Then Ismail said: “Which do you
believe is lying, the donkey or me?”
Tlie neighbor had to give Ismail tiie
benefit of tlie doubt, and went away.
New England’s Largest Apple Tree.
The largest apple tree in Now Eng¬
land is in tlie northwestern part of
Cheshire, Mass., and it stands in the
doorvard of Delos Hotchkiss. Its age
can be traced by a family tradition to
HO years at least, and it may bo
twenty or twenty-five years older, It
is now of symmetrical shape; tlie
trank is nearly round, without a scar
or blemish; there are eight large
branches; five of them have been in
tlie habit of bearing one year, and the
remaining three the next, Mr. Ilotch
kiss has gathered In ono year from the
five branches eighty-five bushels of
fruit,and his predecessor has harvested
110 bushels from the same five
branches. By careful measurement,
the circumference of the trunk one
foot above the ground, above all en¬
largements of the roots, is thirteen
feel eight inches. Tho girth of the
j I i ar g 0 &t single limb is six feet eight
j nc hes. The height of the tree is sixty
, fcetj au( i t j, e spread of the branches
as t j, c a pple 9 fall is one hundred feet.
ji, e f ru it j g rather small, sweet and of
I moderate excellence. [Boston Tran
s 61 *? 1 -
VOL. XVII NO. 22
FOR THE HOUSEWIFE.
TO COOK AX OLD HEN.
When so emiuent a scientist as Pro¬
fessor W. Mattieu Williams thought
it worth his while to experiment with
this somewhat tough subject for gas¬
tronomic contemplation, it may not be
amiss to profit by tho result of his ex
periment. He took a hen six years
old but otherwise in good condition
and cooked it slowly in water for four
hours, thon let it stand in tbe water
until the next day, when it was roast¬
ed for about an hour, basting fre¬
quently with some of the broth in
which it was simmered. It was then
pronounced as tender aud fine flavored
as a young chicken roasted in tho or¬
dinary way, notwithstanding tho good
brotli obtained by stewing. — [Ameri¬
can Agriculturist.
NICE CJiKAM TOAST.
Very few people understand how to
make a nice cream toast. Melt two
ounces of butter in one quart of milk;
add one tablcsposnful of flour wet
witli a little cold milk aud beaten first
into half a cupful of tho hot milk be¬
fore being added to the remainder.
Finally stir into the mixture two eggs,
beating them into a little hot milk
first. Strain tho cream through a
gravy-strainer. Return it to the stove
and beat it carefully while it comes
again to tho boiling point and thick¬
ens. Dip thin slices of well-browned
toast in litis cream and send them to
tho table in a covered dish with the
remaining cream in a separate bowl.
Put a ladle of the cream from the bowl
over each slico of toast as it is served.
— [New York Tribune.
CAKE.
How much that simple word im¬
plies. We say cako when speaking
of the richest fruit compounds, oi
some mixture containing only flour,
butter and sugar. It is an accomplish¬
ment to make cake successfully, even
if it is simple sponge cako. Practice
usually makes perfect, but if one wilj
follow a few easy rules, they will
piu\>A\A^ rrYiai mey uebire.
It is necessary to use the host materi¬
als. Always beat the whites and yelks
separately; the whites until you aan
cut it like jolly, and tlio yolks until
they cease to froth. In mixing cake,
cream the butter and sugar together,
then add tho yolks, then tho milk and
the soda, then tho cream of tartar, thor¬
oughly sifted through tlie flour, and
lastly tho whites of tho eggs. If
fruits aro used roll thorn in some of
the flour. Sift your flour before
measuring as the following recipes aro
for sifted flour.
Fruit Cake—One and one-half
pounds of flour, ouo and one-half
pounds of butter, one aud ono-half
pounds of sugar, one pint of molasses,
ono pint of sweet milk, tlirco pounds
of currants, four pounds of stoned
raisins, three-quarters of a pound of
citron, ono tcaspoonfui of soda, seven
eggs, one teaspoonful of cinnamon,
ono teaspoonful of cloves, ono nutmeg,
and brandy lo tho taste. Bake two
hours. Half litis recipe makes a largo
cake.
Pound Cake—One pound of flour,
one pound of sugar, ono pound of but¬
ter, eight eggs, ono-half of a nutmeg.
Put this mixture in the pans one and
one-half inches deep, and buke in o
quick oven.
HOUSEHOLD niNTS.
A piece of soft flannel makes tho
best of dusters.
if children’s clothes were dipped in
alum water aud then dried, they would
not take fire.
Equal parts of sweet oil and vine¬
gar and a little powdered gum arabic
make an excellent furniture polish.
When clothes pins are frozen do
not jerk them off, but work them
gently sideways until they are loose.
Always take off tho draughts of a
coal fire a* soon as yon have cooked a
meal, if you would save fuel and
labor
Hot tallow is said to remove
machine oil from white goods, Re¬
peated applications will also remove
j ink stains, if exposed to the rays of
! j tlie sun.
Thin glass is too good a conductor
of heat to be advisable for keeping
' toilet which preserve their
creams,
quality best in thick queensware or
' pottery.
j f ar a * possible, keep things in
nse till they are past use, then sell
them for rags. Old linen sheets make
pretty scarfs for bureau and wash-
6tam i or sideboard, if outlined with
quaint or pretty figures, and the ends
j iem stitched. The parts too much
1 w<)rn for such uses make sojt towels
I f or wiping china a id glass. Cushions
and headrests that makeachairinvit
) j„g Ina y be made of bits of silk
plush-
Now I Lay Me.
“Now I lay me,"
Lisps our baby,
As she bows at mamma’s knee.
Nightly bending,
Her ear tending,
To all things, to hear and see.
“Down to sleep,
My soul to keep.”
11 iby's thoughts do take a leapt
“I pray the Lord,”
Is the next chord
That la her mind is buried deep.
“If I should die,”
She breathes a sigh,
On mamma’s knee her head doth Ho
“Before I wake,
My soul to take."
Thus prays our pet, to Ilim on high.
“God bless mamma,
God bless papa,”
fllie sweetly adds, “for Jesus’ sake.’
The little head
Tbcn falls like lead,
As in her arms mamma does take
The baby dear.
Whose voice soundB clear
In “Amen,” said close to her ear.
In snowy gown
We lay her down,
And pray the angels to be near.
-[Fannie W.butler in Cincinnati Enquirer.
HUMOROUS.
Tsmptation always wears fts host
bib aud tucker.
Old people are continually indulg¬
ing In new wrinkles.
The contented thief takes things
philosophically, of course.
“All’s fair in love and war and on
street cars,” said the conductor as ho
counted up his fares.
Woman may be able to pack a trunk
better than man, but Bhe needs the
man to sit on (he Jid after she has
packed it, just the same.
Preceptor—You have used the
phrase, “an open secret.” Givo an
example of an open secret. Pupil—A
yawn. Nobody knows what it really
is.
Sarcasm is au effective weapon, but
it acts like a boomerang when it is ap¬
plied to his landlady by tlio young
man who is two weeks belli nd in pay¬
ing his board.
XA—A—i
thanks: “Your beautiful clock was
received and is now in the drawing¬
room on the mantlepioce. whore we
hope to see you often. ff
Great Merchant—The business has
increased so iu the last year, Mr. Pen¬
wiper, that when you order the new
account books you had better get them
twice the size of the old ones. Mr.
Penwiper—Yes, sir. Don’t you think,
sir, in view of this fact, tiiat I might
have an increase in my salary? Great
Merchant—What! After 6uch an ex¬
pensive set of books? I couldn’t think
of it.
He taught his wife the sin of dress
With eloquence and power,
And then played billiards ail day long
At sixty cents an hour!
A Stratagem to Get a Road.
“I can teil you a little story about
Charlie Foster’s father that illustrate!
the fact that there is nothing obtuso or
dense about the Foster family,” Mali
Ion Chance said tho other day as, with
a group of well-known men, he was
talking of tho new Secretary of the
Treasury.
a The incident occurred a good many
years ago, when the new Secretary
was a boy and lived with his father in
their Ohio home. A dispute had
arisen over tlio location of a stretch of
county road. Some wantod it laid
out in one place, others favored a dif¬
ferent route, and a few wanted a third
line. After a good deal of discussion,
the County Commissioners met at
Tiffin and named the day when they
would decide just where tlio road
should go. They said that they wanted
to examine tho two principal routes,
find out which was more traveled, and
select accordingly.
“Charlie Foster’s father was inter¬
ested in having the road go in a certain
direction. Thc night before the deci¬
sion was to be made be resolved on
stratagem.
“ ‘Hitch up the oxen,’ he said to
Charlie, ‘and go down to Neighbor
Sawyer’s and get his yoke; we have
business tonight.’
< < Chailes asked no questions, and in
one hour three yokes of oxen, each
drawing a heavy sled, stood before
the Foster homestead, Then began a
procession backward and forward on
the strip of road upon which Mr. Fos¬
ter wanted the commissioners to fix.
It was kept going for hours until the
tracks were hammered hard. The cat¬
tle were then unyoked, aud the Foster
family retired.
“Next morning the commissioners
looked at the two proposed routes. It
took them only a few minutes to de¬
termine which track had the most
travel, and the road was promptly
located on the line of the Foster pro¬
cession of the night before.— [New
York Times.
