Newspaper Page Text
The Covington Star.
J. W. ANDERSON. Editor and Proprietor.
The 'Now York Sun soliloquizes:
“A Pennsylvania miner is missing,
then his wife disappears and a search
party find her in the mine, whither
she has gono to seek him, mad, sing
ig love songs to the doad man’s body
whose head lies in her lap. The sensi¬
bility of our grandfathers, now,
would have evolved all manner of pa
theticni ballads from this episode.
The versicles of their time are rich iu
such.”
The dairy schools of Vermont, Wis¬
consin and Minnesota, along with
many others that are coming to the
front, me picking up wonderfully,
snnounces the American Dairyman.
Several gentlemen in different parts
of the country and especially at the
East, have attempted to slart dairy
schools to fill an aching void, but
without success compared with the
cost. Now, however, tiie_stations have
taken up the work and are pushing
it with comtncndnblo zeal snd marked
success, especially in tho quality
product the students arc turning out.
One of the most important of all at¬
tempts toward good farming, thinks
the Chicago Times, is never to under¬
take too large a domain. Undertake
no more than can bo cultivated and
managed in tho best manner. Tho
owner often enlarges his farm with
the l»pe that lie can conduct the whole
of its operations and pay oft' a large
mortgage, but he never does. lie gets
behindhand, is hurried and flurried,
his crops are planted loo late, the
growth is small, and the woods are
largo and take the precedence. A
moderate-sized farm enables him to
lay out work for tha season; to en¬
gage or secure one-third more labor
than appears essential, but which tho
event will prove to be required to fill j
up vacancies in labor that occur in
suite of the delays of rainy days and
of accidents, and to keep them culti¬
vated in the best manner with full re¬
turns.
One of the most important actions
of the Western New York Horticul¬
tural Society at its recent sessions in
Rochester, thinks the Boston Culti¬
vator, was that favoring legislative
enactments for stamping out black
knot in the plum, yellows in peach
trees and oilier contagious diseases.
Michigan has long had such a law,
and the fact that these discuses have
thus been kept from that State has
given its fruit growers a great advan¬
tage. There is no more reason why
diseased trees should ho allowed under
private management on tho farms of
their careless owners than that conta
geous disease of animals or human
kitid should be left wholly to private j
regulation. We have in most of the
States laws for destroying noxious
weeds at the expense of the owner of
tho land, whether lie be willing or
not. A case of plmn tree black knot
iu a neighborhood, or of peach tree
yellows, may do 10 times as much
damage to tho locality as could any
weed. It is not true that a farmer
can manage his farm or fruit growing
wholly to u'lt himself, lie, must see
to it that in thus managing he does
not injure the property of others.
Only a few years ago, hedgerows,
and, in summer, a wall of waving
grain, marked tho lino of boundary
between Kansas and the lands of the
Quapaws, Peoria?, and other small
ti ibes of Indians whose reservations
were grouped in the northeastern part
of llio Indian Territory, “Not a
habitation, not a fence, not a sign of
civilization broke the prairie land¬
scape,” writes a correspondent who
is describing the seizure of the In¬
dians’ possessions by the white man.
(« In the timber along the streams the
Indians had their cabins, surrounded
by little ‘clearings’ for garden pur
poses, and their herds fed upou tiie
rich grasses of the open range. The
prairies and tiie timber abounded
with game and the streams swarmed
with fish. White meu were per
mitted to enjoy these privi
leges under certain restrictions,
hut that was all. All else was for the
Indian owners—the land, the hav nn
liually going to waste, the timber, the
water power, and the minerals in the
earth.” The first trespass on the do¬
main of tiie red man dated from the
time when Congress besieged by the
land-speculators, was prevailed upou
to paS 9 a law permitting the Indians
to take lands in severalty and the
whites to obtain them on leases, The
light to the lauds in fee pimple was,
however, not grauted. This was the
entering wedge. Pressure is now be¬
ing brought to bear ou Congress to
make over large tracts of the country
to town-site companies, and if the
concession is made the Indians will
ihcn be permitted to sell their lands,
and that part of the Territory will be
practically thrown open to settlement.
“Do© Ye Nexte Tliynge. n
The mysterious thread of life
Which lies in a tangled skela
Of duties and joys and voiceless hopes,
All knotted at times with pnin,
Will untwist its vexed string
As you “doe ve nexle tliynge.”
Do duties of every day
Coil c oselv from head to feet,
Till,throbbing with pain,the heart and brain
Against the dr«a 1 meshes Ik at?
Would your heart soar and sing?
Only “doe ye nexte thvnges.”
Ambition with mighty greed
For riches, or fame, or place
Entwines round the sou! its web of lust
And j r ogles each h a e ilygr.ee.
Woud you live by the word?
Give ‘‘ye firste thyngco” to God.
With peace in the heart and mind.
Life's skein in its tangled maze
Unravels its mvstreies one by one,
E'en down to the end of days.
Then “je laste tliynge” will be
To pass over Death's sea.
— [Alice Armstrong, in Frank I^slie's.
THE FIEST DELEGATE
BV EMMA A. Ol'I’ER.
Annie was up to her cars ill work.
She had come to her Cousin Lorenzo
Fraser’s to visit, not looking forward
to a whirl of gaiety, since Lorenzo
was a minister.
But she had not even visited. Loren¬
zo's wife was sick abed with a mild
attack of pleurisy. The children had
been sent to her mother’s, and good,
faithful Lorenzo was getting his own
meals; but even so, Annie had found
Mrs. Fraser in the depth of a despair
which was quite frantic.
For the conference was to be held
in their church next week, and they
were to entertain at leas! four of the
delegates, and she sick abed, with the
house in disorder and not a bit of
cooking done!
Annie had straightened her pillow,
and smiled comfortingly.
“Then I’m glad enough I came,’’
she said, energetically; “and I’ll stay
longer than the week I came for,if it’s
necessary. Mother doesn’t need me.
I’ll see you safely through the confer¬
ence, and stay till you’re up, Tilley. I
know how to work, you know. Don’t
worry a bit now.”
“The dearest girl in the world!”
poor Tilly had sighed, rest fully, to
Lorenzo that night. “The smait'st
and the best, and one of the prettiest,
toe. Yes, she’s unusual every way.
I wonder how it conies she isn’t mar¬
ried, or engaged even? When we
were there last winter, there was that
young man—what was his name?
Whitbeck? Whitcomb?—wlto paid her
every attention, and seemed so nice.”
“Nice young men who pay hand
gome girls every attention don’t nl
ways want to marry them,” said Lor
enzo, with unexpected worldly wis¬
dom. “Not but that Annie is good
enough for tho best of them. But
I’ve heard since that that young
Whitby went Wost. »y
. i I hope Annie’s heart didn't go
with him,” Tilly murmured.
That was how it came about that
Annio was up to iter ears in work.
It was Saturday afternoon. Site
had washed a few things that morn¬
ing, and site intended lo bake bread
and some pumpkin pies and a cake,
and make apple and cranberry sauce
before night, and do the. small iron¬
ing
A white cloth bound her yellow
head neatly, and a long apron covered
her from chin to feet. A few blonde
locks escaped prettily, and her heated
cheeks were becomingly red.
But she was too rushingly busy to
give a thought to her appearance; she
was saying to herself That if anything
happened to interrupt her, she should
die—when die door bell pealed.
She gasped and groaned. Dread¬
ful! She took tier hands out of ihe
bread-dough, but they were doughy,
and there were various smudges on
her apron.
Site knew the pies would burn if
she left them; and how could she stop
to entertain anybody? It was a
flushed and flustered young person
wlio went frownitigly to the door.
It was a man. Of course it was a
man ! She had known it would be a
man. It was a mail with a beard and
an utterly ubsurd long coat to his
heels, as though the thermometer wn
at. zero.
Annie did not like eccentricities,and
she disliked beards, She regarded
stiffly tho third button of the objec¬
tionable coat.
•‘Well?” she said.
“I—you—I— *» the visitor stam
mered.
And then the truth dawned upon
Annie.
i4 Oli!” she faltered; “you arc on©
of the delegates? You’ll excuse me—
I ought lo have known ! But we didn’t
expect any till Monday. Come in,
please—come lit!”
She was much abashed, A minister
and tho with a grea»v apron, and a
COVINGTON. GEORGIA. TUESDAY, MAY 3, 1892.
rag round her head! She talked on
with apologetic haste.
“Mr. Fraser did not look for any of
the delegates this week, but of course
you are very welcome. lie isn’t at
home just now, but you will lay your
coat off and make yourself comfort
able? I’m sorry, but Mrs. Fraser is
ill. I am their cousin, and I am taking
her place as nearly as l can. ff
She was shaking down the base
burner in the parlor, having given the
delegate a chair. She thought her
cordiality ought to thaw him—that
and the base-burner.
But ho sat down with his coat on,
without response beyond a cough. He
seemed still'.
Annie supposed young ministers
were commonly afflicted that way.
Or wasn’t he young? That horrid
beard made it difficult to judge, and
the parlor was dim.
“Mr. Fraser will be sorry not to
have been here to receive you, 'I said
Annie. She contrived to shove a foot
stool within the man’s reach, and
placed the last magazine on the table
near him. The pies were engrossing
her thoughts chiefly. “I know you’ll
excuse me? I’m so busy just now !”
. t Certainly, certainly!” the delegate
responded, makiftg evident the , fact .
that , , ins . was ”, heavy enough , to . i
vo.ee
keep the sleepiest congregation awako.
“Don’t let me detain you. it
“I’ll come back now aud then,”
Annie thought, with recovered self
possession.
And when the pies were out of the
oven, and the bread in, she did go
back, with a set little phrase for the
entertainment of the earliest delegate.
“Will the conference be a large
one?” she queried. “Mr. Fraser
thinks so.”
“He ought to know,” the delegate
rejoined.
Some of his dignity had evaporated
before the genial glow of the base
bUlvtcr. llo lenuoil -fovsNavd ■witU luo
elbows on his knees.
“It was in Connellsville last time,
said Annie.
“Where the cheese factory is,” said
the delegate. “I suppose tho confer
enco subsisted on cheese mainly.
Annie smiled. Why, the delegate
was quite bright and humorous.
“Cheosc always makes you think of
pie,” he added, . . I beg your pardon,
but do I smell pumpkin pie baking?”
“You smell pumpkin baked,”
Annie laughed, “Would you—would
you have a piece?”
The delegate made a gesture of
pleased assent.
t < There's nothing I’m so fond of,
ho declared.
Annie went and brought it The
delegate was surprisingly utiminis
terial; but lie wasn't the poke she bad
taken him for. As for that, she could
remember when Lorenzo lu.d been a
regular “case.”
She put the pie, a big and thick and
delicious-looking wedge, on a china
plate, and the plate on a napkined
trav.
4 . All!” said the delegate, smacking
his lips. “So many thanks.”
“Perhaps,” said Annie, couscieuce
stricken, “you havn’t had any din¬
ner?”
t 4 YVell—a lunch,” the delegato an¬
swered, hesitatingly.
“Wouldn’t you like— Wait! ft
Annie wliiskcd away, and came
back with cold meat and milk ami
broad and butter and pickles.
TLe delegate spread them on the
centre-table with an air of extreme
satisfaction.
* I was hungry, if lie said, iu his
hoarse-sounding voice. “Famished.
I feel like a tramp, though, to be get¬
ting away with all tho cold food
you’ve got. It
“Getting away” with tilings was
peculiarly unclerJoai. Annie wavered
between astonishment and mirth.
“Shall you make me chop wood in
the back yard to pay for it?” queried
the delegate, j
“I’d rather you’d atone raisins,
said Annie. “I’ve got a cake to
make for the delegates. Cousin Tilly
says that the conference delegates are
dreadful eaters. ji
“It’s fretn being asked to tea *0 much
by members of their cottgre gations,
said the dcleg t’, “aud not being given
anything but tea and preserves. When
(hoy get where there is something to
eat, they eat.”
Annie tittered. She wished the
parlor were less dim. or that he would
look at her more squarely. A really
' humorous minister was something
new. She could aimost forgive ihe
j coat, which was still ou, and the
i heard.
ti Is it going <0 be a fruit cake?”
said the delegate. “With currants,
j besides the rastiis:
“Yes,” Annie responded.
“And citron?
! “And citron,” said Annie.
j 14 I will stone th: raisin 9 . Mid the
delegate. “I like fruit cake next t#
pumpkin pie. >»
lie took up the emptied tray with
an enthusiastic flourish ami followed
Annie to tho kitchen.
Site was filled with astonished
amusement. "Was there ever such a
conference delegate—such a minister?
\ Certainly ite was jolly, but was he to
be exactly approved of? She was be¬
wildered.
I i If yon could lend me a dish-apron, 11
i said the delegate, “why, I could pilch
right in.”
Annie tnrnod to look at him. It
was not dim in the kitchen. The
light from the south window fell
squarely upon him.
She dropped with a crash the spoon
and tin dish 6ho had taken, and gasped
and wavered backward.
i . Joe!” she cried, faintly.
The delegate jumped and grasped
her.
“Don't faint, Annie! Annie, dear,
don’t! Oh, little girl, aren’t you glad
to sec me? It seems as though I could
eat you alive! Excuse the expression.
It’s Western, Annie. ft
(. It can’t be you, Joel" she cried,
clutching the lapels of the long coat.
“How when Joe, Joe, 1 wasn t to
j, ave gee „ von a <rain till next spring ”
° ’ °
“Didn’t I teff you I should come
back for you as soon as ever I was
able?” he demanded, fondly. “Did
I want to wait till next spring? No
Aud Im able now, Annie. lie lcal
estate business in Wisconsin is a first
rate one, Annie-or it has been for me.
Whitlock & Co. (and I’m the company)
has boomed-fairly boomed-and I’ve
come back for my promised wife. I
got homo yesterday, and when I
fotmd you woie heie, I made a bee-
1 * ne ~
“But, Joe,” she inferupted, pro.
testingly and unsteadily and tenderly,
“that awful coat—and a beard!”
“The climate in Wisconsin is to
mauie tui tiotu," ne pieaueu; “and
for my awful cold, too. To think
you didn’t know me, Annie 1 Oh, it
was rich! I was wondering how
; i ong j CO uld keep it up. it
j “I was so flustered with the hurry
I was in.” she said, slowly and
wonderingly, “and I was so far from
expecting you, Joe, dear, and so sure
j t bat yoll m i l9 t he a delegate. And
your beard aud long coat, and your
hoarseness, ami the parlor was so
dark I 1 knew there was something
queer and natural about all the funny
things you were saying. How could
I have been so stupid?” she mar
veled.
t 4 You could hardly have helped it,”
he declared, with Ills arm strangely
located.
“A delegate—the first conference
delegate I” she cried, “Oh, Joe, tho
joke is on you! And, Joe,” site
begged, with fomininc abruptness and
softness, 4 ( you will have that beard
off, won’t you? Do!”
“I’ll leave the beard,” said the first
delegate, bestowing a ki-s, “if I can
take you.”
i t I shall see Tilly safely through
tho conference, though,” said Annie,
flying to take off the apple-sauce be¬
fore it burned.
“Nice young men,” said Lorenzo to
his wife that evening, humorously,
ti do, perhaps, oftener than uot marry
the haudsomo girls they have paid
attentions to.
Dyeing Living Flowers.
It is said that two poor Parisian
women, who earn a livelihood by
•
making artificial flowers, have hit on
a process for dyeing natural flower 9
in brilliant hues. Public attention
was called to the matter by florists
who received in a lot of flowers some
sweet-williams of a bright groen col
or. It seems that one of the woni-n
poured some paint into a bowl in
which some natural flowers she was
copying had been put in water, The
next day she was astounded to find
that the flowers had assumed the hue
of the paint. Bring a woman of in
quiring mind she (-01111110011 expeii
meeting and succeeded 111 producing
various colors never intended by 11 a
ture, but very available in art. She
immediately commenced dyeing flow
ers for tiie inaiket, ami i xtended liei
practice to otlici * Glt ? 0 lo- soms,
including while lilacs an caineiias.
The only colois cmploie by her at
present aic liolct, green an pink,
The violet is obtained by u-ing the
“violet of Paris dve, and tiie other
; two are due to chemical compounds
; with long names, one of which con
| tains twelve and tiie other twenty syl
| labies.—[New Orleans Picayune.
A Simple Test.
Mrs. Bharptoug—-1 lcai h ,]S
band’s mind is affected. Is there any
sure test ?
Doctor—Tell him you’ll never speak
to him again. If lie Hughs, he’s sane.
: — fN.Y- Weekly,
iTHE DISMAL SWAMP.
! -
Virginia's Immense Tract of
Swampy Land Described.
Its Vegetation, Animal Life
and Value if Drained.
The Dismal Swamp in Virginia, one
of the largest of the swampy tracts in
America, is also one of the most
promising areas for reclamation. It
contains fully 1500 square miles, and
is at present of little value, except for
a eupply of timber which is constant'
ly diminishing. The swamp is sit¬
uated on an inclined plain, gently un¬
dulating, and is really nothing but
continuation of the lbw r , swampy,
coastal plain, which extends from
Texas northward. It is an old sea
botLom, and the western boundary of
the swamp is a sea cliff and beach.
Owing to the original deficiency of
slope it is swampy because tho water
cunnot run off, and its swampy nature
is increasod by the growth of vegeta¬
tion which acts like a sponge iu re¬
taining water.
^ tLe cen(er o£ the 8wamp ig
t j J6 f umou8 L u ke Drummond, abou t
i which . much , has , , been written, ... aud ,
so
tlie origin of which ig , till an Ullget .
tIed queitioil . It has been supposed
th#t during , omo time of dl . ought a
^ burniug the peatj , lag produced a
j arge depression in which the waters
of tha lake hftve galhered _ Prof.
Sha f #r of the United StalC3 Ge o!ogi
ca , Suryey C0!lsiderg this explanation
to be improbable> although smaller
pool# have been pro d„ccd in this way.
1Io offers as a theory that as the vege
(ation grew upon the old sea-bottom,
which had been raised to dry land, it
began to grow first on the margin,
and gradually to extend over the en¬
tire area, Lake Drummond being the
Ium t pi fif*n * o £ll« j. O.'K, vf UlU
most interesting features connected
with the Dismal Swamp is its peculiar
vegetation.
Trees generally cannot grow in very
swampy tracts, for their roots need to
ba ye acccess to the air during the
gl - OV viiig season. The bald cypress
under ordinary conditions differs in no
way from an ordinary tree with re
spect to its roots; but iu swamps such
as the Dismal Swamp where the roots
are beneath water all the year, it has
formed the habit of sending a knec
like protuberance from the roots up
above the water into the air—breatli
ing-holes, one might say, for tiio
roots. In this way the cypress can
live in very wet swamps. The black
gum of the Dismal Swamp accom¬
plishes the same end by arching its
roots so as to raise portions of them
above water.
As would be expected, the animal
life of this great swamp is also pe¬
culiar. No squirrels exist because there
are no nuts; ground-loving animals
are also absent because of tho extreme
wetness, so that there are no mice,
moles, squirrels or other animals of.
this class. Birds which build on tho
ground cannot live here, and tho chief
animal population of the higher classes
consist of water birds and snakes. Of
the larger animals bears are abundant,
and tliero is a peculiar aud vory fero
c ious species of wild horned cattle,
These animals, probably the descend
ants of former domesticated cattle,
are now thoroughly wild and very
dangerous. The fights of the wild
bulls are said to be very exciting by
those who have seen them, and in the
contests between the Lears and the
bulls botti are sometimes killed. It is
said that the bear, in order to escape
the danger from the horns of the cat¬
tle, have the habit of springing upon
back3 aud vending the muscles
wb ich support tho head of their prey,
q' be vegion is iu part a wilderness,
b()t gome efforts have been made to
drain it, these have been in tiie main
unsystematic and unscientific, and
haye prodnced iiule r<JsuU 0 f value.
p ro£ g ba i e r estimates (hat by a proper
sy8 ( ein of draining this great swamp,
fully 160,000 acres of land can bo re
claimed at a cost of.$4,000,000, mak
ing the land worth some $16,000,000.
The land is very favorably situated
£or cultivating and marketing garden
cr ops. Experiments n'ready made
p rove t be go n and climate to be ad
m j rab ] y adapted to the culivation ot
vegetables. The Norfolk district,
wber0 a costly system of fertilizing
. famishes large
g | lec08sa vy, now a
p ar t of the supply of such crops to
from four to five millions people
along the northern coast, and the de¬
mand is certaiu to increase. The
drainage channels could furnish water
transportation to within a mile of
every part of the tilled area aud thenco
to the sea. — [American Agriculturist.
The bigger fool a man is the belter
satisfied h<? seems to bo pith h m elf.
VOL. XVIII. NO. IT.
Riches of Uiudoo Princes.
Sir Edwin Arnold says in the C >i
cngo Tribune: What would irratify
most, no doubt, such American
ladies as may honor mo by reading
these sketchy recollections, amid nl'
these picturesque surroundings of
Eastern royal life, would be. I think,
the various Tosliu’khanas or treasure
chambers of the Indian courts.
Some of the finest gems in the
world are still to be seen in these
Tosha’khanas of the peninsula, where
they are greatly prized and carefully
guarded. Many of the best pearli
from Ormuz or Ceylon, of the choic¬
est pigeon blood rubies from Burmah;
emeralds of extraordinary size,
carved with long inscriptions iu Per¬
sian, Arabic aud Bauskiit, with deli¬
cate and costly enamels after the style
of the master art of Jeypore, wore
stored in that royal collection which
I inspected at Da rod a of Guzarat.
There woro swords there, whoso hilts
alone were worth a large estate, so
richly were they crusted with oostlv
stones, and the blades of somo among
them were of such fine and perfectly
tempered 6teol as to be occasionally
more valuable than the handles.
Certain among the choicest blades
had slots cut in the damasked steel up
and down which ran costly pearls or
rubies cut to a round head, and some
of them were thrust into spiral scab¬
bards, so fauitless wore their spring
and elasticity. The old Mahratta cus
todiau would suddenly open some old
inarmalado jar or sardine box taken
from the great barred vault and turn
out of this unlikely reeeplaclo,
rolled up in an ancient red or green
rag, such a belt of sapphires and
diamonds, such a diadem of Oriental
rubies, such a bracelet or anklet or ring
for the nose or linger that must have
made the eyes of any lady wlto hud a
proper and becoming passion f»r
beautiful (liiiicr* snnrklo ULra a
jewels themselves.
On high public occasions these
princes and magnates of India vie
with each other in tho brilliant and
gorgeous display of gotns with which
they repair on their elephants to dur¬
bars or reception". The native classi.
cal name for such lovely baubles
is santesha, tiie Sanskrit word for
“contentment,” as if their won¬
der aud beauty were calculated to fill
ordinary hearts and minds quite to tho
brim. It is better, however, for those
who are not millionaires to talk and
think as little as possibio about the
glittering contents of tho-c Indian
treasure-chambers.
The Writers of Great Hymns.
It seems a singular fact that appar¬
ently nothing in a literary w y will
rolegato a writer to oblivion so surely
as to be the author of a world-famous
iivmn. I have often thought of this
upon being introduced to some person
of whom I had never heard, only to
find that he or she is the author of
some liyinn familiar to almost every¬
one. Take a few instances. For ex¬
ample, nearly everyone has hoard or
sung the line of “Shall We Gather at
the River?” aud yet how many know
even the name of the author, much
less the fact that lie is living? Yet few
men are more respected in Plainfield,
N. J., than is Rev. Robert Lowry, D.
D. W'uy out in Richmond, 111., lives
Dr. S Fillmore Bennett. To how
many is that name familiar, yet to
whom is his familiar church song,
• 4 The Sweet By-and-Byr,” not famil¬
iar P In the interior of New York
Sate lives Mrs. Annie Sherwood
Hawkes,who wrote those famed lines ol
“I Need Thee Every Hour?” Only a lit¬
tle better known, and somewhat less
forgotten, is tho Rev. Dr. Samuel
Francis Smith, the author of our
national anthem, “My Country, ’Tis
of Thee,” as well as of the hymn,
“The Morning Light is Bicnking!*
As one of the professors of the Uni¬
versity of Rochester, tho Rev. Joseph
Henry Gilmore is far better kuown
than as the author of the linos, “He
Leade h Me, Oh, Blessed Thought!”
Hardly known, and never recognized
on the streets of New York as she
walks out, is Fannie Crosby, tho
author of countless hymns, but per¬
haps none so famous as “Safe in the
Arms of Jesus, It is odd that the
veil of obscurity should seem to be the
inevitable reward of those whose
pens have given us the hymns
which have brought consolation and
joy to so many thousands. — [The
Epoch.
Willing to Assist.
New Son-iu-Law--Aliem! You
member, Mr. Oldchapp, you said that
after we were married you would as
si-t inc in the matter of furnishing a
house.
Mr. Oidahapp—Certainly, my boy,
certainly. Come around the corner
with me and I’ll introduce you to a
friend of mino who is in the install
t m cnt business.---[New Yjyfc
Secrot Thoughts.
I hold ft true that thoughts are things
Endowed with bodies, breath and wing t
AnJ «*>«
The world with good results—or ill.
That which we call our secret thought
6peeds to the earth’s remotest spot,
And leaves its blessings or its woes
Like tracks behind it as it goes.
It ts God's law. Remember it
In your still chamber as you sit
With thought you would not dare hav,
known,
And yet make comrades when alone.
These thoughts have life, and they will fly
And leave their impress by and by,
Like some marsh breeze, whose poisone?
breath
Breathes into homes its fevered breath.
Aud after you have quite forget
Or all outgrown some vanished thought,
Back to your mind to make its home,
A dove, or raven, it will come.
Then let your secret thoughts be fair;
They have a vital part and share
In shaping worlds and molding fate—
God’s system is so intricate.
— [Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
11 UMOROUS.
Of two women choose the one that
will have you.
The only way to get a hen out of tin
garden is to go slow but shoo’er.
’Tis bad to be cut by old friends,
but it’s worse to be dropped by tho
sheriff.
ii Excuse the liberty I take,” as the
convict remarke l when he escaped
from the state prison.
If you do a man a favor do not let
him know it, or the chances arc he
will come back for another lift.
It is worth noting that people who
•ecm familiar with the English lan¬
guage take the greatest liberties with
it.
Bright Child—I know what they
call ’em, mamma, when there’s
three twiui. Mamma—What, Katy?
One thing is to bo said in the
loafer’s favor. Time dues not run
away from him as it does from the
busy man. Days do not flip out from
under his fingers faster than he can
count them.
A Texas gentleman applied to a
friend for information in regard to a
certain man whom he wished to em¬
ploy on ids ranch. “Is lie honest and
reliable?” “I should say so. He is tried
and trusty. He has been tried four
times for stealing horses aiul lie got
clear every time,” was the reply.
Doctor: Y’our husband appears to
be run down, anxious and over¬
worked; but I see no signs of insanity.
Mrs. Van Riverside: I’m sure hVs in
danger of It. Insanity runs in his
family, you know. “Does it?” “Yes,
indeed. Two of his sisters had
chances to marry rich meu, and then
married poor ones. •'
Ten Dollars Would Have Been Cheap.
“The invasion of trumps and beg
gars into New York, which peop’e
complaining of, ? * said a clerk in
are
an uptown hotel the other day, 4 . i*e
minds me of a similar experience we
had out in San Francisco somo years
ago, when 1 was keeping a small hotel
there myself. Every tramp and
‘blanket-man,’ as they called them in
the state, seemed to have struck ’Frisco
at the same time, aud you may imag¬
ine that the regular beggars whom we
had always with us were disgusted.
The nuisauce became so great that
charity got dammed up altogether,
aud tho fellows took to threats to ex¬
tort alms. Nearly everybody in ’Frisco
in those days, however, carried a
pistol, and after half a dozen of the
loafers got shot the fraternity became
discouraged aud left town as suddenly
as they came.
“I had a nice little hotel, newly and
fiuely furnished, and I was catering
to a quiet and respectable family trade.
Lots of ladies in the house, you un
derstand. Well, one day a man came
up lo the desk and asked me for some
assistance. I refused and ordered him
out.
<< If you don’t give me *10,” lie said,
“1»I commit suicide right here in
your hotel. ((
“I was amused at this novel threat,
and asked him. with a laugh, why he
did not make it $ 100.
«• I’m not joking he answered.
“Get out of here,” I said angrily.
“The man pulled a pistol from his
pocket, and thinking he was going to
shoot me, I grabbed mine. But he
put the muzzle of the weapon into
his own mouth and blew his brains
all over my expensively frescoed wall.
The trouble I had with the inquest and
the coroner c-'st me more than $10
was worth. But worst of all, several
nervous ladies, good customers, left
my house and took their families with
them. They never could sleep, they
said, in a hotel where a horrid man
had blown out his brains.—[New
Y'ork ’fribune