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Tnrr. In—lf* mtnpttng as can b*:
Tha*n'* tela nan cud* aad Uquor* duo.
In lit* la,t tararn than'* a aack,
dad, whaa the c*ah ft pocket quit*,
Jn*t hang the wallet on y'r back,
Yon ragaboad! *e* how it tta I
DYs know what road to honor lead*,
dad good old age}—* lovely sight—
By way o’ temperance, honest deed*,
Aad tryln' to do you duty right,
dad when the road fork* ary side,
And you're in doubt which one it Is,
Stand sun and let your coneeienoe gulila ;
Yhank Qod, It can't lead mnoh amis*.
And now the road to ohnroh>yard gate
You needn't aak. Go anywhere.
For whether roundabout or straight,
All roads at last ’ll bring you them.
Go, feat-lug God, but lovin’ mom 1
I’ve tried to be an honest guide—
You'll find the grave baa got a door,
Aud somethin' for you t’other side
GEBTLEMAX GEORGE.
When George Faulkner called at Col.
Dyaart’s office and told him ho -wanted
to marry his Kitty, the ruined old
Colonel turned in his wrath and bade
him leave his presence !
"We ain’t got down to that,” said he
" and yon have a mighty lot of assurance
to ask for her.”
Yet Kitty was only a little waif. Col.
Dysart had raised as a kind of waiting
maid, for his two daughters; she hod
bef'n given no advantages in the way of
education, but everybody in the house
had made a pet and plaything of Kitty,
and she was as pretty as a wild rose—
just the faintest color in her oheeks gave
a Blight suspicion of quadroon blood,
bnt her beautiful brown hair was no
curlier than Fanny Dysart’s. Her form
was lovely ; her hands and arms studies
for a sculptor, and Gentleman George,
as Faulkner was called, had tried by
every unfair means in his power to woo
and win her, tried and failed, and loving
her all the more for her sweet strength
of innooenoe he fortified himself with
come Virginia tanglefoot and walked up
to the oannon’s mouth—in other words,
he bluffed the Colonel, and demanded
Kitty’s hand in marriage.
" A loafer and boss thief,” continued
irlie irate Colonel, when Gentleman
George .springs at his throat like a bull
dog.
“ Take that baok I” he shouted. ” I,m
no hoss thief no mo’n’ yon are Take
it—back,” an --* anßjw ever y
Wo**
“ Well, well,” gasped the choking
Colonel, "mebbe yon ain’t; bnt yon’ll
allow yon’re a moonshiner and a gam
bler."
“Oh,” smiled Gentleman George,
showing his handsome teeth—there was
more than a suspicion of color in his
blood—“ yon gamble yourself, Colonel;
that’s a gentleman’s game; what's yon
a-goin’ to do ’bont it ? and the law is
too close on a little whisky, and revenoo
officers a mighty hard lot. Efthat’s all
you’ve got again me, monght as well let
me have the gaL”
“ril see you first,” said 'the
Colonel, smartly, aud the negotiations
ended then and there.
001. Dysart was of the old Virginia
stock, a bine-blood gentleman, poor as
a church mouse and proud as Lucifer,
living regally with open doors, while he
bad anything, and maintaining a great
family of dependents in as good style as
ho lived himself, white or blaok. Touoh
one of Col. Dysart’s servants, and yon
touched him. He was a faithful steward
while the estate lasted. That was why
he hated to give up Kitty. She was al
most like his own, though he had picked
her up in the highway a squalling 3-
year-old, and ridden into the door-yard
with the kicking ohild under his arm.
He transferred her to the cook, thence
she went to the housekeeper, by degrees
she reached Mrs. Dysart, who made her
an especial pet, as long as she lived, and,
dying, bequeathed her to Fanny, her
eldest daughter.
The Dysart girls were good to her, bnt
indifferent; Kitty missed someone to
love very much, as she did good Mrs.
Dysart, and her heart went out to the
handsome fellow who smiled at her at
barbecues, and met her at preacher’s
meeting, and tried to entioe her off to
clandestine trysts.
That soupcon of African creole blood
which flushed his cheek found its mate
in hers; she had seen him laughing and
talking with her young ladies—his fam
ily was as old and good as theirs—if it
had crossed the 00l or line somewhere,
while she was a waif—a nobody. How
good it was of him to love her !
Bnt, all the same, Kitty was wide
awake, and knew that, if she had neither
blood nor birth to boast of, she had rep
utation, and Gentleman George was
known to be wild, so she held her own
and compelled him to ask for her duly
in honorable marriage. Yon have heard
what the Colonel said, bnt when did
love ever fail in its undertakings ? and
who came to the rescue hut roman tie
Louise Dysart, the youngest daughter
of the Colonel, whom Kitty had confided
in, and she planned the whole thing—
an elopement, carnage and pair, mar
riage before a Jastioe and herself as
ELLIJAY iHH COURIER.
W. jr. COM 11*1
Bill*# Mi PwMMft* t
witness. Then she went home and
laughed to hoar her father storm !
All this happened the year before we
went to the Planters’ House, on the
Horseshoe mountain, where we had
made up a party for the season; and we
heard from CoL Dysart that Kitty had
made a fool of herself, and he had
sent Louise to a seminary North to get
scone sense m her head, and he'd oe
if he’d ever help that sly Kitty,
not if she starved t And then we learned
that he had inquired all along about
them, and found out that Gentleman
George was very good to his little wifo
—that he had still eluded the excisemen,
and gambled, but otherwise conducted
himself properly. Defrauding the Gov
ernment was not mnch of a crime there.
The people had their own views about
that. If Gentleman George did nothing
worse than disseminate the moonshiner’s
whisky, without paying the taxes, he
wouldn’t lose mnch in the respect of
the people.
We had some cariosity to see this
chivalric George and his Kitty, and
Fanny Dysart had promised to take ns
to their mountain cabin, but somehow
we never went, and had nearly forgotten
the intention, when one day we stumbled
in on them quite accidentally. We were
looking for wild flowers in the mountains,
and a storm came up so unexpectedly
that we hnrried into the first cabin we
eame to for shelter. A sick man was
bolstered np in a chair, and one of the
shyest, loveliest, most attractive girls I
had ever seen was fanning him with an
old palmetto bat. The room was hung
with starched and goffered muslin
dresses, beautifully done up, and on a
rack above the door Beveral rifles were
hung. The Bick man was the living
image of Wilkes Booth, as I remembered
him—pale, statuesque features and dark
curling hair, the embodiment of piotur
eeque refinement and intellect. I never
saw such devotion in any woman’s face
before as she gazed into his pale coun
tenance to see if our entrance had
startled him. She looked like the sister
of Tasso, or Gertrude, bending over her
Budolph.
We did not stay long, but we came
away deeply in love with Kitty, and
rather distrustful of her sick husband,
who was convalescing from an attack of
mountain fever. We ielt that some
thing was wrong and that Gentleman
George must be very selfish to wear
fine gold watch, and r mß>
Kitty take washing from the hotel, as
she actually did, for we recognized those
beautiful laundried dresses. We felt
that it was the old story of man’s selfish
ness and woman’s devotion, bnt we
made ourselves agreeable, and drew the
gentleman out. He talked well in spite
of his vernacular, and he read Shaks
peare and Mrs. Augusta Evans, and
gave us some quaint mnsic on the banjo,
and told us of his family and was rather
proud of the drop of unleaven in his
blood.
"It matches Kitty,” he said, laugh
ingly ; “ come here, girl; give the folks
some buttermilk and berries. Fly
around, honey, or they’ll think you’re
worn out nursin’ me.”
He moved a square of stone in the
hearth with his stiok, and brought oat a
jug with a oom-cob stopper; we all
tasted the illicit whisky and he put it
back, saying:
“You’ll not inform if you’re Kit’s
friends, and they’ll never take me alive I’’
Kitty shuddered and turned pale, but
we knew this was all mock heroism. A
pretty still in the mountain side was not
likely to be interfered with by summer
visitors, but the paling cheek of the
lovely young wife showed that she was
ever fearful of danger, and she followed
ns to the door to ask us in a sweet im
ploring way not to mention to OoL.
Dysart’s family that she did the fine
starching and ironing for the hotel vis
itors.
“George is proud,” she said, “and
so is the kumiel. I never washed there,
and I needn’t go to now, but he’s had
the mountain fevah. Pore boy 1 it’s
took him down so! ”
Her voice was soft and flutelike ; we
promised what she asked, as her hus
band called petulantly :
“ Kit I doan’t stand gabblin thsr! the
fevah’s on again ! ”
Our next venture was of another sort:
There was a quarrel between some dis
tillers and the exciseman, and OoL Dy
sart went ae peacemaker between them
and collected a moiety of the tax money.
He called at Kitty’s on the way up the
mountain, and left word that he would
be back the next day at noon and would
eat dinner with her. Her husband was
well now, and that morning he took his
rifle and went out “ after game,” he
said. Kitty begged him not to inter
fere with any of the excisemen, and he
promised he would not, aud he left her
with a careless kiss.
Fanny and Louise Dysart got up the
idea of a picnic to meet their father,
visit Kitty and spend a day in ths
mountains at the same time. There
were no dresses hung in Kitty’s cabin,
though her bands had goffered the ruf
fles on Fanny’s crisp lawn and Louise’s
organdy, through ths medium of the
head waiter at the hotel, but they un
ceremoniously asked her to admire the
work. They chaffed her about hei
ELLIJAY, GA., THURSDAY OCTOBER 13, 18S1.
handsome husband, and wondered where
he.was, and declared laughingly they
would not hav.- como if they hat! not ex
pected to see him. Col. Dysart was
late, and the picnickers had their
feast spread urder the mountain pines
and Kitty made a charming hostess, bnt
she was anxious, and seemed watching
and listening. At last Col. Dysart
came ridine slowlv. and with his
bridle-arm banging by his side, broken
by a rifle-ball! The girls sobbed and
clung to him, and asked a thousand
questions, bnt Kitty helped him ofl’ bis
horse, got him in the house, and, with
the help of others of the partr. band
aged np the broken arm. Then the
Colonel talked with white bps and set
teeth.
“ The highwaymen ! It was
the money they wanted, and they meant
to shoot me like a dog. Four of them
set on one man. Masked like thieves
every mothers’ son of ’em ! Well, I
settled the account of one of ’em ; grilled
him thru and thru so he’ll never know
what hurt him ! A mean sneakin’ oow
ard 1 Hallo, Kitty 1 blood makes yon
sick, hey?”
For Kitty had dropped like a shot bird
at his feet.
"It was the blood,” she said, and she
soon came round and helped us to get
-off, a silent terrified party, for even an
outlaw’s death is a shadow on one’s soul,
but we all felt that the Colonel had done
the country a service. These outrages
bad been frequent of late.
Wc hated to leave Kitty alone, bnt
she said George would bo right back,
and we left her watching the winding
mountain road, anxious for a first
glimpse of his loved face.
jj "^rv
THE ROY Ah FAMILY OF RUSSIA.
It maybe a platitude, writes G. A.
Sala, to remark that illustrious rank, an
income of a great, many thousands of
roubles a year, a fine house to live in, a
French cook and plenty of servants, and
the breast of your coat all covered with
stars and crosses, do not necessarily of
themselves confer on humanity the thing
called happiness ; but it is expedient to
rememlier this truism in view of the
opinion that those adorn no states of ex
istence more monotonous, more useless,
and indeed generally deployable
thru those of the male membe.-s <>/ i’ie
imiwe-inl family in Russia. The Grand
Duchesses are more fortunate. They
have, at least, the ohance of marrying
foreign potentates, of escaping from his
Imperial Majesty’s jail—in wliich his
Imperial Majesty himself is the chief
prisoner—of conversing with free people,
and of breatiling free air. But here arc
these young, middle-aged and clderl,
imperial gentlemen, forming a nvte
apart, as isolated and comparatively as
numerous ns the imperial caste of the
Yellow Girdle in China, condemned to
pass their lives, buttoned and buckled
and strapped up in the tight-fitting uni
forms, and to wear helmets or forago
caps on their heads. They were dressed
in uniform when they were children:
they bve in uniform, and when they diq
they will be buried in uniform. Each
adult one of them is mured up in a pal
ace of his own as big as a barrack, where
he keeps, or is rather kept, in safe cus
tody by a swarming retinue of aides-de
camp, equeries, maitres dTiotel, grooms
and lacqueys, and the wages of this army
of parasites added to the revenue ap
portioned to their Highnesses from a civil
list of 10,000,000 of roubles a year, but
which is practically unlimited, go far to
ward eating up the fat of the land, and
grinding the face of the miserable mou
iik even to the bone.
THE SMALL BOY'S EXPLANATION.
Angelica had invited her “ best young
man” to the evening meal. Everything
had passed off harmoniously until An
gelica’s 7-year-old brother broke the
blissful silence by exclaiming :
“Oh, mal yer oughter seen Mr.
Lighted the other night, when he called
to take Angie to the drill; he looked so
nice, sittin’ ’long side of her with his
arm—
“ Fred 1” screamed the maiden, whose
face began to assume the color of a well
done crab—quickly placing her hand
over the boy’s mouth.
“Yer oughter seen him,” continued
the persistent informant after gaining
his breath, and the embarrassed girl’s
hand was removed ; “ he had his arm—”
“ Freddie!” shouted the mother, as in
her frantic attempt to reach the boy’s
auricular appendage she upset the con
tents of the teapot in Mr. Lighted’s lap,
making numerous Prussian war maps
over his new lavender pantaloons.
“ I was just goin’ Vo say,” the half
frightened boy pleaded, between a cry
and an injured whine, “he had liis
arm—
“ You boy I” thundered the father,
“away to the wood-shed.”
And the boy made for the nearest exit,
exclaiming as he waltzed, “ I was only
goin’ to say Mr. Lighted had his army
clohes on, and I'll leave it to him if he
didn’t”
And the boy was permitted to return,
and the remainder of the meal was spent
in explanations from the family in regard
to the number of times Freddie had U>
be “ talked to” fer using his fingers for a
ladie.
MAXIMS FOR TME ntOTSHTm.
A burnt mustache dreftls the short
cigar.
There’s many a slip between the pul
pit and the church door. -
A sliver in yonr hand is worse than 1
2,000 in the hand of your friend.
Never bnild castles in 'the heir. 'They
are ever liable to be overthrown.
Put a rich man on and the
mule will throw him jtud as quiokly as
he would a beggar.
Least said the sooner she deadlock is
ended.
Piety is often but kneo-dftep.
Yoq can’t make a portjpgfjMieout of a
two-legged calf.
Bangs cover a multitude of wrinkles.
Like the dog in the mtoper, the nose
is above kissing and is always ready to
interfere with the kissing of others.
When Hie spring bom&t comes into
the house, money flies out of the pooket
book. 4^-
Oli, that mine snemy had been at
home during spring cleaning 1
A cigarette in the mou|h shows which
way the money goes.
Lonesome is whom handsome does.
The man who pleads bis own case is
unloved of lawyers.
The man who saves 6 by walk
ing gives 10 to the shoei2seer.
Kiss and let kiss.
It is a short layin’ that has no torn in
it.
The boot-tree is known by its boot.
The scissors has two blades, crying
“ Steal, steal.”
Whoso diggeih a pit should be cast
out of the fami y oirole. .
All that blisters is not good medicine.
A feast is good as enough.
He must have a must
eat ice-cream with a yQ*g lady.
Honest tea furnishes its own grounds.
Of two women, choose the one that
will have yon.
The beauty is not so bright as she is
painted.
Two in a tirade seldom.qgree.
Speech is cheap, but are what
tell.
A woman after his own heart is what
pleasetli the man.
Money is the principal jthing; there
fore get money; and wit All the gettings
get ifVeJl ffiv6stec(. '
A soft answer turneth the stomach.
. The coal-hole goeth before destruc
tion, and a banana skin before a fall.
A bald head is a fly’s paradise.
The race is not to the swift, but to
the pool-seller.
A short-time note soon goes to pro
test.—Boston Transcript.
ADORED RY DOUS,
I please myself with the thought that
every man is, or may be if he will, a cen
ter, round which many kinds of affection
press with gontly sustaining forces. Let
as not underrate the love which rises up
to us from below, bathing our feet in
warmth. Only the love of animals, and
that of cliildren while they are still
quite young, is absolutely free from criti
cism. All our contemporaries criticise
us; even our wives do in their hearts and
our sons in their adolescence. The man
in his family lives in a glass case, and
can not quite withdraw himself. He is
surrounded by more affection than the
bachelor, bnt be incurs in a minor de
gree that amenability to criticism which
is the penalty of a prime minister. The
criticism may not be openly expressed,
bnt as soon as he acts independently of
the family opinion about his duties he
feels that it is there. It is exceedingly
salutary, no doubt; it keeps ns in the
path of duty and dignity; it saves ns
from many abberrations. And still,
upon the whole, we know ourselves to be
such lamentably imperfect characters
that we long for an affection altogether
ignorant of our faults. Heaven has ac
corded this to ns in the sncritical canine
attachment. Women love ns in their
own exalted ideals, and io live np to the
ideal standard is sometimes rather more
than we are altogether able to manage ;
children in their teens find out how
clumsy and ignorant we are and do not
quite unreservedly respect us, bnt our
dogs adore us without a suspicion of our
short-comings. —Philip Gilbert Hamer
ton.
A BASE INSULT.
It doesn’t always do to credit people
with over-sensitiveness. The other day
one of our “ rising young pianists ” was
giving his opinion of the vulgarity and
meanness displayed by our goldfish aris
tocracy. “ Why,” said he, “for instance,
not long ago I was invited to attend a
musicale at the house of old Fullbags,
on Nob Hiil. Of course I played a good
deal to entertain the company, and when
I left old 8., as he shook hands, slipped
into my hand a S2O gold piece.” “ Why,
the thick-skinned old hogl” said the
audience, ind'guaniiy, “What did you
do?” “Why, you just bet I got even
with him. I haughtily threw the money
on the floor and left, after first exchang
ing the coin for a counterfeit twenty I
happened to have in. my pocket just
then—don’t you see ? ” “ Capital idea;
served the old vnlgarian right” “Yes,
it was a huge idea, but the trouble was
that his twenty turned out to be a coun
terfeit, too.’’—,San Pranoiteo Post.
a turn BOAMBnro-Mouum.
"I have come in answer to your ad
vertisement for board,” said a nervous
old lady toa pert miss of 18, aa the latter
showed her into a parlor of all the oom
forts of a home establishment on Henry
street " Bnt I won’t oome here anleas
yonr house is perfectly quiet, now re*
member that”
"Quiet I well, yon may smile, ” replied
Miss. “ That noise yon here now is the
dentist in the basement, polling ont a
tooth, bat he’ll get it ont, if it takes him
a month. How mnoh oan yon afford to
pay?"
“I think I hear soma ana mp-stairs
seating,” said the old lady.
"That’s only a young lawyer prao.
ticing a case. Yon’ll get need to him.
Nobody liked it at first, bnt we’ve all
got used to it and don’t mind it now.
Got any children ? We don’t take
ohildren, because eur babies fight ’em
so.”
" No, I haven’t. Who’s that yelling
in the next room?”
" That’s the landlord trying to oolleot
the rent. Yon know pa is very deaf,
aud you’ve got to howl at him. You’ll
have to pay in advance if yon come
here.”
“ Good gracious ! What’s that ?’’ ejac
ulated the old lady, as a furious din
Bwept through the lower regions.
“ I guess the cook is driving grandma
out of the kitchen with the olothespole.
She often does that. Have yon got
rnuoh baggage ?’
“Bake# alive! Somebody is being
murdered up-stairs 1 Who is it ?
“Oh I that’s a literary fellow on the
top floor. Whenever he writes anything
he squeals like a pig. But he generally
writes at night, and yon needn’t pay any
attention to him.’’
"What are yonr terms?—good heaven,
the roof has fallen in 1”
"No, it hasn’t; that’s a college pro
fessor, and that’s the way he goes up
snd down stairs. If yon listen you
may hear him break his neok! Oan
you give any references? Anybody
know [you?”
" Certainly ; if I—was that a gun?”
"I guess so. My oonsin has got a
prairie down oellar where he hunts In
dians and buffidoes and things. Some,
limes he’s a road agent, ani then he robs
us on the stairs. We always allow .for
it in the board, so it evens up. Got any
money of your own”?
" Never mind whether I have or' not;
I don’t think I want a room here, any
way. Let me ont, please.”
“Couldn’tlet you have one, anyhow;”
retorted Miss, preparing to slide down
the balustrade. “ There’s only one emp
ty one, and that's too high-prioed for
yon; besides, you don’t wear very good
clothes, and we prefer not to have you
around.” And down the slide she went
with a wliiz-z, while the old lady pat
tered off after another homo-like house.
—Brooklyn Eagle.
tux unknown future.
What ia before me? What is before
you? We do not know, and there is no
ODe of whom we can ask the question
with hope of reply. There are many
things which we dread, some which we
fear greatly; but we are well aware that
our hopes may never be realized and
that our fears may prove groundless.
That which we never hoped may glad
den us, that which we never dreaded
may fall upon us, after all.
The babe in his cradle yonder is a rid
dle not to be read even by his mother.
She forms her plans for him as she rocks
the cradle with her slender foot. He is
to be a statesman or a clergyman, a
merchant or a soldier. She plays with
her dreams of his future just as she blew
bubbles in her childhood, and as those
bubbles burst so may these bright fan
cies of hers. Or, haply, even greater
things may be in store tor him than she
has thought of; for though someone
who was destined for the ohurch by
his mother has, doubtless, died a felon’s
death, another, whose parents only
hoped that he should work at his father’s
honest trade, has oome to be a ruler in
the land.
The great poets were not poets in their
cradles. The whole list of people whose
names are known to all the world gave
no sign of future greatness in their cra
dles. They cried for pap and for tli -
moon just like all the babes who lived
and died without being or doing any
thing particular.
But, oh, the fate that may be beforo
any babel before you, before me. Oh,
the brightness or the darkness behind
the ourtain that veils our future and that
of those we love I Do the angels know
all ? Is it written, or only to be writ
ten?
For one thing let us all be thankful:
that we do not know and that there is no
means of knowing the life that we may
live, or the death that we must die, or
the fate that lies before the children for
whom we build our bonny air oastlea.—
New York Ledger.
Did you read that poem in last
night’s paper ? ” asked Smith. “ Bead I ”
exclaimed Puffington; “no, sir; I never
read poetry. I write it I” “ Oh, I see,”
said Smith, demurely. “You are to be
congratulated.”
SFJSSEKXS VOL. VI.-NO. 37.
MOIKUT Atm a ALKOV*.
At the eloeeof themmioaof Oongrm,
March 4, 1831, (tiff quarrel broke out
between Qen. Jackson and John 0. Cal
boon. It originated in this wise: II
will be recollected by those who havs
read an account of Qen. Jack son'a cam
paign against the Seminole* in 1818 that
they were Indiana who came ont of Flor
ida, then belonging to Spam, murdered
citiaena on our frontiers and committed
depredation* on thoir property. The
Spanish officers, instead of restraining
these Indiana, furnished them with sup
plies, thus making themselves parties
to the outrages perpetrated. Gen.
Jaokson, Mitring that ha Whs author
ised by the law of nations, a secret sot
of Congress, and an order from the Gov
ernment at Washington to conduct the
campaign as he thought beat, marched
into Florida, took possession of St
Marks, Pensacola and San Augustine,
and soon pnt an end to the war. Im
mediately thereafter a letter from Whsli
ington was published irf * Nashville pa
per stating that William H. Crawford
hod proposed in Monroe’s Cabinet to
hare Qen. Jackson punished in some
form for his procedinga in Florida, and
that Mr. Calhoun had defended him.
Qen. Jackson believed tips statement,
and the consequence was that he was
very inimical to Crawford and very
friendly to Calhoun. At last Mr. Craw
ford determined to oorreot the false im
pression made on Qen. Jaokson’s mind-.
He wrote a letter to John Forsyth, then
a Senator from Georgia, and asked him
to show it to Qen. Jaokson. In thjs let
ter he said that it was Mr. Calhoun, and
not himself, that made the proposition
complained of. This information great
ly surprised the General and completely
changed his feelings toward Mr. Cal
houn. A correspondence between the
parties ensned and then open war, Mr.
Calhoun issued an address to the people
of the United States, in which he
charged that it was a plot gotten np by
Mr. Tan Buren to injure him. The evi
dence did not support the charge. The
result of it all wu that Mr. Tan Buren
resigned his sekrin the Cabinet, and
was at once followed by every member
of it, save the PostiSester General,who was
soon appointed Minister to Spain. Ing
hani, Branch and Berrien were friends
to Mr. Calhounjsnd, of course, they
hsd to go out. Win Buren wee appoint
ed a Minister to England, and Eaton
Governor of Florida. Calhoun himself,
the next year, resigned the Tioe Presi
dency, and was elected a Senator.
now thk RornacniLßa oainel
THEIR If AMR AND FORTUNE.
If the dootrine that honesty is the best
polioy needed any confirmation, the his
tory of the Rothschild family ought to
afford it. The founderof the line, Meyer
Amschel, or Anselm, was born in the
Jew’s quarter at Frankfort-on-tho-Main,
in 1743. His parents died when he was
11 years old. He becume peddler,
all-around worker, and finally clerk to a
small banker and money-changer in Han
over. In 1772 he had saved a little capi
tal, so he returned to Frankfort and set
up a money-changing shop with a red
sign over the door. That red paint
smeared board became the godfather of
the richest family on the face of the earth.
From simple Meyer Anselm, the young
Jew came to be culled Meyer Anselm
Rothschild, or red sign or shield.
He collected ancient and rare coins, and
among the amateurs who bought of him
was the Landgrave, afterward the Elec
tor, William of Hesse, the blood-peddling
scoundrel who sold his subjects to En
gland to be killed in America during the
Revolution. The Landgrave took a fancy
to Meyer Anselm and made him his agent.
When Napoleon overran Europe, Will
iam of Hesse was driven from his states,,
and left all the money he conld gather
together in the hands of Anselm, his
agent. It amounted to £250,000. Money
in those days returned 12 or even 20
per cent, od good security. Anselm
lent it, and turned it over and over
again. The war went on. The battle of
Leipsio was fought, and Napoleon and
his army were hurled across the Rhine.
The Landgrave of Hesse then returned
to his states. A few days after, the eldest
son of Meyer Anselm presented himself
at court and handed over to the Land
grave the three millions of florins which
were the principal and interest of the
treasure his father had taken care of.
The Landgrave looked upon the restored
money as a windfall. In his exultation
he knighted young Rothschild at once.
*' Such honesty, ” his Highness exolaimed,
“had never been known in the world.”
At the Congress of Vienna, where he
went shortly after, he could talk ot noth
ing else than the h meaty of the Roths
childs. He made them the fashionable
bankers of Europe, which they remain
to this day.
“Mr husband is a brute,” declared
Mme. X. to an intimate friend the other
day. “ Why, my dear, what’s the mat
ter now? ” “He found fault with a lit.
tie vivacity of mine yesterday, and I
threw a candle-stack at his head; then
what do you suppose he did ? ” “I don't
know.” “Why, he stood before the
mirror, so that I couldn’t throw the oth
er. The brute I”
onwtojto* Mi tm—Swm wm
America has not mough navy te beak *.
“ How mb ye* Aad year unele, Me*
•jr “InappU-pie arise." "He**
that!" "On*/.”
It is tmflriy embarrassing to acme tm
“•Tn is nnt > flsh is 111 sssrtst
thing to turn up" m wntdadTta
ho stepped on the edge of * ban-el hoop.
IxQtttßnm duffer asks: “ What Mad
of liquor will a mu gat drunk am quick*
eatf’ The kind ho can gat hold at first
“Am, O Edward," said the girl ho
was going to leave behind him, “at
every stopping place be hn and
than go ahead.”
Cohundbuk for the skeptics: If there
is no devil, os yon assort, who then to
the father of flfesf Several bald-head
ed men impatiently awpit year reply.
■skssst*
Mmj n* haw a* good * Urn*,
tv* wu * usm f )*ae- ...
“Don’t vou think.” said a husband,
mildly rebuking his wife, " that women
are possessed by the devil F* “Tea,”
was the quick reply, “as soon ae they
are married.”
THU PORX-nOVXK’g LAKXWT.
I dan not ml
A dead plf>i meat,
Though not of orMd of Horn
iil * „ For, oil, I f*r,
From vhat I bear,
That horrid MahlsoCa!
A pat woman of Corinth, Miss., drank
aah-bark tee to make her lean, and
skipped for the better lgnd just two
hours ahead of a lean woman who was
eating gum-arabio to make her fat
Thu critio who did not “mind his
stops” introduced some verses thus:
“ The poem published this week waa
composed by an esteemed frieqfl who
has lain in his grave many lat his
own amusement."
Thh man who said, "AwmHß
change her mind on any mHhF in
twenty-four hours” has beejpKsoov
ered. Ten years ago his MX pro
nounced him a fool, and WMnin't
ohonged her mind sinoe.
Eunice was 8 years old and Sarah was
5. One morning Sarah said to Eunice,
“I won’t love you If you do so." Bunins
said, “ Ton must not say sa God will
not love you if you don’t love every
body.” Sarah replied, “ Well, I guess
God did not hear ms. He is sway 19
high, and I guess Hs is a littla deaf.”
A (zuomthan lost hie hat 00* even
ing, and wae obliged to go home with a
shabbier one, which wae left in theplaoe
of a Next day the hat was returned by
the penitent appropriate)*, who said:
take a minister’s hat again.
Fou An’t imagine "What queer thing*
I’ve had running through my head ever
since I put that hat on.”
DYSPEPSIA AND SUPERSTITION.
The Russians are by no means os dys
peptio a raoe as Americans, for they
have more physical labor and less chan os
to employ the services of cooks. But
there are subjects of the Czar even who
over-eat, and suffer in oonsequenoe, as
other mortals do. They are, however,
not inclined to blame themselves far at
tacks of dyspepsia, but think that when
such attacks do trouble them, it is owing
to the presenoe of a snake in the stom
ach. It is currently believed that the
reptile is very fond of raspberries, and
will leave its hiding plaoe whenever it
sees or smells them. So the dyspeptio
goes into the bath-room (when he wishes
to be cured), some raspberries am
fetched and strewed on hot stones in
the room, over which the sufferer bends
with open mouth to facilitate the egress
of the serpent. Should it not make its
appearance, charms or incantations are
resorted to, and continued till the pa
tient feels better, when the snake is sup
posed to have left his temporary abode
unobserved. Surely the acme of un
reason is reached by a people who can
believe in Bueh an absurdity. But they
have relations in countries west of them
—people who are equally unable to see
what is the real cause of dyspepsia, and
what its cure.
CROPS IN CONNECTION WITM
TREES.
Borne of the strenuous advocates of
tree-planting state that crops can be
raised between rows of trees while they
are quite small, and that grass will grow
under them when they beoome large.
Both of these statements are true; but
it is also true that it is difficult to raise
cultivated crops between rows of foieet
trees, even when they are very small.
The work of cultivation must be per
formed by hand, far to employ a cultL
vator would result in destroying either
the trees or the crops that are planted
between the rows. Some grass of value,
as pasturage, can be produced in a for
est, providing the trees do not stand too
near each other, but the amount in any
instance is small in quantity and poor in
quality. The grass that grows in the
shade of trees is deceptive in appear
ance ; when cut and cased it is found to
produce but a small amount of hay, and
that little is deficient in nutriment It
is also likely that the growth of the
trees is retarded by the presenoe of the
grass. It must also be borne in mind
that several varieties of trees will not
thrive in that soil is constantly tramped
by the feet of oattle.— Chicago Timas.
Oppobtunitt is modi, and energy is
much; but, unless we have wisdom to
choose the one and direct the other, they
will not bring us the advantages or the
blessings that we fondly mpsofc