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■■■!■ MU —T m *TMM tiIUK. D r# U rM to ft* W>l • ftw • nkttan, W ft* W*r te tee w, fii ••. ft# n<iM <, * ft*r* ft# red t. ft. ftnu. : •*. *■4 ftlo ft* klWft*. I'll to Mul VftMVkllMtKklllttlMmhfl rnDow ft* r*4 ru* lan u 4 ft***; l or If Bar *ua I**t*> ft*M>, I ai (<M H wml 4d4 JoUm nybw. D Y# k*o ft. roto to Sund.y. n*t? MMlftiMpbnM; > •** Ud rnrtohop do ft bV 4*d Bondar mm IMt, I>* hoard. On fttorday It # not for off, dad taring* * boakotrol o eftor d nooat and iota o' gnrdan ataff, dad, Hto aa not, ago* o' b*er. ®>* kaow tb* road to porortr t Tara In at any ftv.ru rign; 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