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COLEMAN * KIRBY, Editors and Proprietors.
VOL. XI.
ellijay cqdrif.r.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY
—BY—
COLEMAN * KIRBY.
Umco ia tho Court House
GENERAL DIRECTORY.
Superior Court meets 3d Monday in
TVfay and 2d Monday in October.
Hon. Jameg R. Brown, Judge.
George F. Gober, Solicitor General.
COUNTY COUBT.
Hon. Tliomss F. Gre6r, Judge.
Moultrie M. Sessions,County Solicitor.
Meets 3d Monday in each month.
Court of Ordinary meets first Monday,
in each month, - 1
‘'TOWN COUNCIL.
J. P. Perry, Intendent.
M. McKinney, i. H, Tabor, I ~
J. Hnnuicutt, J.R. Johnson, } Gom.
W. H, Foster, Town Marshal
COUNTY OFFICERS.
J. C. Allen, Ordinary,
T- W. Craigo, Clerk Superior Court,
M. M. Bramlett, Sheriff,
J. H. Sharp, Tax Receiver,
G. W. Oates, Tax Collector,
Jas. M. West, Surveyor,
G W. Rice, Coroner,
W. F. Hill, School Commissioner.
The County Board of Education meets
st Ellijay the Ist Tuesday in January
April, July and October.
RELIGIOUS SERVICES.
Methodist Episcopal Church, South.—
Vvery 4th t'unday and Saturday before,
!>/ Key. C. M. Ledbetter.
Baptist Church—Every 2nd Saturday
and Sunday, by Rev. N. L Osborn.
Methodist Episcopal Church—Ever.
Ist Saturday and Sunday, by Rev. R
H. Robb.
FRATEBNAt RECORD,
Oak Bowery Lodge, No. 81, F. A. M.,
tnoets first Friday in each month.
\V. A. Cox, W. M.
1.. B. Greer, S. W.
W. F. Hipp, J. W.
It. Z. Roberts, Tress.
T. W. Craigo, Sec.
W. AV. Roberts, Tyler,
X B. Kirby, S. D.
- M.M. _
'
v> , | n
JASPER. GEORGIA.
Wi 1 practice in the Superior Court of the Blu*
Ridfie Circuit. Prompt attention to a 1 bush
ore.is intrusted tci his care.
’ll M. Sessions. E. w. Coleman
SESSIONS & COLEMAN,
attorneys at law,
ellijay, ga.
Will practice in Blue Ridge Cirouit, County
Court Justice Court of OiJmer County. Lend
business eohoited. •‘■Promptness" is our motto.
DR. J. S. TANKERSLEY.
Physician and Surgeon,
Tenders his professional services to the citi
Jens of Ellijay, Gilmer and aurrounding coun
ties. All calls promptly attended to. Office
upstairs over the firm of Cobb & Son.
HFE WALDO THORNTON, D.D.S.
DEUNTTIST,
Oai.houk, Ga.
Will visit Ellijay and Morganton at
both the Spring and Fall term of the
Superior Court—and oftener by special
*‘intrant, when sufficient work is guar
anteed to jmtify me in making the visit.
Address as above. . Tmay2l-li
CENTRAL HOTEL!
Ellijay, Georgia.
11l tbe special popular resort f( r c 'nrmorcial
men and tourists of all kind, and is the general
house for prompt attention, elegant rooms and
fare second to none, in this place. Reasonable
rates.
Mis. M. V. Term will give her' personal at
tetaioa t> quest! in lh) and ning hall. ly 1 |4I
Young men"
Who wish a Thorough preparation foi
Business, will find superior advantages al
MOORE’S BUSINESS UNIVERSITY
ATLANTA, GA.
The largest and best Practical Easiness School
in the Sooth. can enter at an)
time. for circulars.
liAWRENCE
PURE' LINSEEDUML
TANARUS) MIXED
Bunts
READY FOR USE.
W Tbe Best Paint Blade.
Guaranteed to eontain no water,
benzine, barytes, chemicals, rubber,
asbestos, rosin, gloss oil, or other
similar adulterations.
A full guarantee on every package
and directions for use, so that any
pne not a practical painter can usaii
Handsome sample cards, showing
beautiful ehadae, mailed free on
application. If not kept by your
dealer, writs to us.
feZlpttZS'MWViSfz
TW. LAWRENCE I 00.,
. PITTOBVMMi rA. .
THE KLLI.IA COURIER.
AURANTII
Host of the diseases which afflict mankind are origin
aUy omtd bj a djasdered condition of the LIV ER.
FSr all complaints of this kind, each as Torpidity of
the Liver, Biliousness, Nervous Dyspepsia, Indiges
tion, Irregularity of tile Bowels, Constipation, Flatu
lency, Eructations and Burning of the Stomach
(sometimes called Heartburn), Miasma. Malaria,
Bloody Flux. Chilis and Fever, Breakbone Fever.
Exhaustion before or after Fevers, Chronic Diar
rhea. Loos Of Appetite. Headache, Foul Breath.
Irregularities incidental to Females. Bearing-down
aehefko., *o, STiDIGER’S HlMsfiT
is Invaluable. It is not & panacea for all diseases.
iSGtlßf* 811 diseases of the LIVER,
wflly STOMACH and BOWELS!
“ changes the complexion from a waxy, yellow
tinge, to a ruddy, healthy color. It entirely removes
w. gloomy spirits. It is one of the BEST AL
TERATIVES and PURIFIERS OF THE
BLOOD, and Is A VALUABLE TONIC.
STADICER’S AURANTII
Eg eels by all Druggists, PrioeSl.QQ per bottle.
O. F. 3TADICER, Proprietor,
*4O SO. FRONT 8T..1 Philadelphia, Pa.'
FIRST GLASS—Grocers Knap It.
child 1* dean
And sweet, I ween.
As any gaeen
You’ve ever seen.
Were washed with
ELECTRIC LIGHT SOAP
Without Rubbing,
first Class Housekeepers use It
Ist. Washing clothes in the usual
manner Is decidedly hard work; It
wears yon ont and the elothes too.
Hi i( AMI i Wh li better plan and Invest
“ -Af EI.KCTBIC
, e.. . upper of each bar.
■*mr SOLICITED.
ATKINS SOAP CO.
INDIANAPOLIS. IND.
Automatic Sewing Machine Cos.
72 West 23d St., New York, N.Y.
m - We invito special at-
tention to our New
Patent Automatic Ten
sion Machine, making
iB precisely the same stitch
O? as the Wilcox & Gibbs,
and yet, if not preferred
tho Wilcox & Gibbs
Automatic Tension Ma
chine, can bo returned
any time within 30 days
and money refunded.
But what is more remarkable still, we nover
knew a woman willing to do her own family
sewing on a shuttle machine after having tried
our New Patent AUTOMATIC.
Even Shoe Manufacturers find it best suited to
their work—its elastic seams are more durable.
Truly Automatic Sewing Machines are fast
superseding shuttle machines, and it is no use to
deny it. Truth is mighty and does prevail.
Shuttle Machines have seen their best days.
Send for Circular . Correspondence solicited .
Talking About Hot Weather.
“Talking about hot weather,” said a
brakeman, “that we had yesterday was
nothing long side of what I’ve seen down
on the Southern Pacific. I was braking
down there last summer, and in some o’
them dead, desert valleys of Arizona,
where ran never falls and the sun’s al
ways blistering, I’ve seen weather that’d
rem'nd a man of what’s in store for him
after he leaves this vale o’ tears and
boardin’ houses. One day last summer
we were running along in that country
when an accident occurred such as I
s’fose was never known in all the history
of railroading. All of a sudden the loco
motive was seen to be bouncing along
like a ball, an’ the engineer was so fright
ened that he shut off steam as quick as
he knew how and whistled like sin to
call all the men forrerd. • We rushed up
ahead and he told us what had happened,
but we laughed at him 'and made so
much fun of him that he finally pulled
open the throttle agin just to show us
thathc knew what he was talking about.
I hope to drop dead in St. Louis an’ be
cut up in a medical college if that loco
motive didn’t bounr.e just like a ship in a
swell. We were all to frightened that
we begged the engineer to shut off steam
and stop her. What was the matter!
Nothin’, ’cept that the. rails were so hot
that they tagged down between the ties
whenever the engine strnck ’em, and the
wheels were so hot that they were pound
ing out flat. Yes, sir, if we’d lun a mile
further we'd a-had nothin’ but square
wheels under our locomotive. None of
us had ever seen an engine run with
square wheels,and so we didn’t try it.”—
Chicago Herald.
Qnick at Repartee.
“George is very quick at wepartee,”
said Charles Augustus to a friend, “he’s
deucedly orwiginal, don’t you know?”
“Aw!" remarked his friend, “is het
I nevah caught on, you know.”
•‘Yea, he's deucedly quick lit wepartee;
snvs some deuced sharp things. He made
one of his hwilliant wemarks at fhe
sac wed concert, lie walked down the
aisle to the fwont of the pawquet, you
know, and George neglected to take off
his hat, don’t you know. The usher
eame to him. and, in a beastly way, told
him to take off his hat, don't you know.
Goorgu turned on him and made a
wemark that quite paralyzed him, you
know."
“Aw, what did ha say?"
“Why, lie wo e up in bis seat, and,
looking in a terribly fierce way, he said:
'Aw, you go to tbe deuce,' It wsa
deured'y shatp, you sea.”
’ A*."— Paul Glut*.
’ r .g. 4 „ in . , —.
“A HAP or BVST Lin—lTS FLUCTUATION j| i IXB VAST COXCEBirs.”
NEW ODE BY TENNYSON.
BTTNO AT THE OPENiXO OF THE COLONIAL
EXHIBITION, LONDON.
I.
Welcome, welcome; with one voice
In your welfare we rejoice.
Sons and brothers, that have sent
From isle and cape aud continent
Produce of your field and flood,
Mount and mine, and primal wood,
Works of subtle brain and hand
And splendors of the morning land—
Gifts from every British zone;
Britons, hold your own 1
11.
May we find as ages run,
The mother featured in the son;
And may yours forever be
That old strength and constancy
Wbi h has made your fathers great
In our ancient Island State;
And where’er her flag may fly,
Glorying between sea and sky,
Make the might of Britain known;
Britons, hold your own!
111.
Britain fought her sons of yore;
Britain failed, and nevermore,
Careless of our growing kin,
Shall we sin our fathers’ sin;
Men that in a narrower day—
Unprophetie rulers they—
Drove from out the mother's ues
That young eagle of the West
To forage for herself alone.
Britons, hold your own I
IV.
Shavers of our glorious past,
Brothers, must we part at last?
Shall not we, through good and ill.
Cleave to one another still?
Britain’s myriad voices call:
Sons, be welded, each and all,
Into one imperial whole;
One with Britain, heart and soul,
One life, one flag, one fleet, one throne!
Britons, hold your own!
And God guard all?
THE QUILTING BEE.
I am so tired 1” sighed Patience Meade.
“Too tired even to walk down Buttercup
Hill and hear the nightingales sing!”
Harry Lyude looked disappointed.
“It’s only a step, Patience, said he.
“Only a step! Yes, but every step tells
when one has fairly reached the limit of
one's endurance!”
“Then, I suppose,” said Harry, with
an air of resignation, “I shall-have to sit
down here beside you-, and the nightin
gales must sing to an audience of no
body !”
“You and the nightingales must do as
you please about that,” said Patience,
laughing.
The old Osmufid'house looked weirder
than its natural wont—which was not at
all necessary—in the pallid moonshine;
the Lombardy poplars stirred in the even
ing wind, and the stars were coming out
in the sky so fast that one could scarcely
count them.
Patience and Harry were sitting on the
back porch-—the front door was scarcely
ever opened except on high festival days
and Sundays—old Mrs. Osmund was nod
ding over her knitting-work by the light
of a shaded lamp in the mouldy back
parlor.
For her turned up nose,
Her sweet little toes.
Her pretty pink hpse,
And all her clothes
“What have you found to occupy your
time so severely?” said Lynde.
Patience smiled.
“Don’t you know?” said she. “We
are to have a quilting bee here to-morrow.
At least, Mrs. Osmund is. And I have
boiled a dozen spring chickens for sal: and,
baked six loaves of cake, made raspberry
tarts after Francioh’s recipe, and pre
pared A tongue, a ham, and four quarts
of jelly. And the best silver has been
cleaned, and the decorated China washed;
the parlor curtains ironed, and eyery
floor in the hoUBe swept.”
Lynde whistled an insufficient ex
pression of his thoughts.
“I don’t wonder that you’re tired.”
said he. “What is the old lady think
ing—that you are made of cast-iron?”
“Mrs. Osmund is determined .to have
the finest quilting bee of the season,”
said Patience, “and I think she will suc
ceed.”
“With your assistance?”
“With my assistance. But when one
looks at the lovely branching coral under
the ocean, one never thinks of the pa
tient little insect that has toiled to form
its beauties. So, don’t you see, Mrs. Os
mund will,get all the credit, as she ought
to do-; I am only her humble instru
ment.”
‘‘l should like to come to this quilting
bee, ” gravely observed Mr. Lynde.
“You cannot!” returned Patience,
with a nod,of her pretty jet-haired head.
‘‘No gentlemen allowed.”
“Well, at all events, I shall be think
ing of you the whole time.”
Patience Meade was very happy that
evening. She had come to Mrs. Os
mond’s on the recommendation of a
mutual friend as a sort of “genteel help.”
And she had done, what bad never been
done before in the knowledge of man or
woman either, suited the fastidous, ill
tempered old woman. Nobody could
quarrel with Patience Meade—she was so
quiet, so gentle, so anxious to please;
and at the month’s end, when Mrs. Os
mond had given her her hard-earned
wages—six dollars in .silver —and she
had ventured to hope that she had given
satisfaction, the old lady rubbed her
nose with the end of her spectacle-case,
and said, unwillingly:
“I s'pose you've done as well as you
could. I don’t know why you won’t suit
me.”
Which, from her. was extravagent
praise, had poor, discouraged Patience
only known it.
The grand occasion of the quilting bee
arrived at last, and. to Mrs. Osmund’s in
finite satisfaction, it did not rain. Tha
salad was made, in great shallow platters
of the oithodox “flowing blue” pattern,
the jelly was turned into glistening
molds, the coffee was brewed clear and
strong and fragrant, the blackberry
short-cake was baked, the waffles were
all ready to turn into the pans at five
minutes' notice. The neighbors arrived
in best cap end gown*, each withe
work-bag of a different pattern, end the
Osmund parlors were full of humming
voices, ss the quilt was tacked on tbe
frame, and each old Ldy began on her
own particular portion, while Patience
flew lightly to and fro finding the scis
sor* for one threading • ref. ectory needle
lot another, bunting tbe tbiiabla of e
ELLIJAY, GA.. THURSDAY, JULY 22. 188(1.
third from some unheard of Hd place
under the sofa, and Jteeping die while a
general oversight on the supper table in
the back room.
“Like your gal, Mrs. Osmund F’ asked
old Miss Farrar, during one of Fatienee's
temporary absences.
“She ain’t so bad,” was the old lady’s
non-committal answer. ....
“She has got a pleasant face,” said
Mrs. Johnes.
“Looks ain’t everything,” observed
Miss Pellets, whom the village lads had
mischievously christened “Modgs*.”
‘•We all know as beauty skin
deep,” said Befhiah Willis. eyes
did not match, and whose front teeth
protruded like the fangs of 4 rodent.
“Patience is a good ga;.”giid Mrs.
Osmund. “I'm seriously thifikin’ of
adopting Patience for my rfjrn., I’ve ho
relations nearer than second cquwmA and
there’s something about ttfjtfs to
be depended on 1”
The neighbors looked at etch other in
amazement. Mrs. Osmund sev. ed ou in
the odd, jerky ways that she h-Gy- and,
as she sewed, the little garpew md em
eralds set around the rim of hk old-fash
ioned gold thimble—more than a cen
tury old, the gossips said—flashed like
tiny eyes of red and green fire.
“WelJ, I never!” said Mrs. Jfohnes.
“Guess her mind must he goin’,”
whispered the druggist’s wife.
“Old fools is so. queer,” tmmmcnted
Miss Farrar, who was staring her eighti
eth birthday in the fqee.
The supper served presently was a
complete success. The old todies were
compelled reluctantly to admit that Airs.
Osmund’s quilting bee had been to the
other quilting bees of the neighborhood
what the sun was to mere stars. This
was as they went home at night.
The next afternoon a sensation thrilled
through the place. Patience Meade had
been sent away from her situation at an
hour’s notice, and following close upon
this circumstance, old Mrs. Osmund had
a “stroke.”
“Queer 1” said Miss Farrar; “and she
only two-and-seventy.”
“I knew there must bo- something
wrong with that pretty, surficring-faced
girl,” said Bethiah AVillis, jrho seemed
to be well pasted in all thJfparticuTars.
“It’s the gold thimble, sot* nth precious
stones, that’s been in the CSttuna family
dor a century. She’s stolen! I could
a-told how it would be." a
It was true that the golothimblc had
been missing when old jnrs. Osmund
looked through her treasures next morn
ing. It was also true thlt she bad. ac
cused Patience of the they, and that in
default of her confession and restoration
of the trinket, the girl had been un
ceremoniously turned out of doors. Four
hours afterward the old woman fell in a
fit!
Patience Meade did not know where
else to go, bo she went to Lucy Lynde,
Harry’s sister. Harry hiri r-lf came to
ffie doer.
“Oh, Harry!” she gasped, “have you
heard? Did they tell am"
‘‘l have heard, ” sal ity, with stern,
grave eyes. “And I- lr was so much
astonished in my liftLJ Ivon are really
guilty, Patience, you M|d o inf: ss it at
once. There can be nqLifte in equivo
cating.”
“If!” She lifted her lwge, blue-gray
eyes to his. “If!” 'Ain I have as
suredly come to the wro® place. Good
by I” And she was gonaM
From .house to housJHbe went, but
no one took her in exceFanny Darton,
who worked in the facstry, and whose
brother, Milo, had chaigc of the tele
graph office.
“Get outl” honest Milo had said.
“You may as well try to make me believe
that I took old Mother Osmund’s gold
thimble. Patience, indeed! What air
folks thinking of?”
“The most rediculous nonsense I ever
heard!” said Fanny.
And it was to these true-hearted par
tisans that Patience carried her broken
heart; and nothing had ever sounded
half so sweet in her ears as Milo’s cordial
welcome, Fanny’s words of cheering
comfort.
Mrs. Osmund- died and was buried.
The heirs flocked to her funeral, like
crows to the death-place of some ancient
eagle.
There was an auction sale at the old
Osmund house, and Milo asked his sister
Fanny to attend.
“I ain’t altogether certain,” said he,
sheepishly, “but if I could coax Patience
Meade.to say yes, there’d be the parlor
to furnish and a few things to get for
the up stairs front room.”
“Oh, Milo!” cried Fanny, rapturously,
“do you thiuk it’s possible that—that
she could like you?”
“It does seem sort o’ presumptuous,
don’t it?” said Milo. “But I ain’t going
to let her go for lack of trying my luck,
thatlknow.”
All the sacredness of home detail was
turned inside out. The old cabinet
piano was sold for a song; the tall cherry
wood clock brought about four times its
worth; people laughed at the old-fash
ioned furniture, and handled over Mrs.
Osmund’s cast-off wigs and curls with
many a jeer and taunt.
Fanny Darton purchased a neat antique
set of horse hair chairs and a claw-legged
table for the parlor at home, and some
pretty chintz curtains, hung over brass
poles, and a lot of odds and ends, which
comprised tbe very half-finished quilt
over which the old ladies of Darlington
had worked that last afternoon of Mrs.
Osmund’s life.
“It ain’t worth much,” paid Fanny,
“but it came with the towels and the
screen, and I gues*. we can finish it at
heme some leisure iime.”
The sight of the quilt brought up a
thousand reminiscences. People whis
pered the name of Patience Meade to one
another.
“I s'pose the heirs cdhld her her tried
for Rtealin’ I” said Miss Farrar.
“That there gold thimble was worth a
deal of monev! ’ remarked Mrs. Johnes.
“Idessnyii her trunks was opened,”
croaked Miss Pellott, “folks would find
lots o’ things she hadn’t no business
with!"
“I really think,” said Mrs. Cuhebs, the
druggist's wife, “the town trustees ought
to look to it!"
Fanny Darton heard non* of these
good-natured comments.
She was busy, with the help of Melinda
l ames, in taking the quilt from its frames,
so at to make s romp 4 ter bundle for the
purposes of transput itioa.
“JJrrtful pretty pA-ro' What is itV”
asked Mrs. Pack. tH§ Methodist minis
ter's widow Ti%t-hotl*e ftteps, #r
Job s Troubles I”
Good-natured Melinda unrolled the
Rus mass of colors to let her look.
i same instant something shone
with a kaleidoscopic glitter, and dropped,
clinking, on the floor.
“Lor’?” said Miss Farrar, fumbling for
her spectacles.
“What on earth is that?” screamed
Mrs. Cubebs.
Fanny Barton rescued the glistening
fugitive from under the leg of a rheu
matic bureau.
“It’s old Mrs. Osmund’s gold thimble,”
said she—“that’s what it is—rolled up
in the quilt! And now,” with a defiant
glance at the assembled brigade of gos
sips who were gathered around, “what
j do you all think about Patience Meade?”
And she gathered up the quilt and de
parted, with unutterable triumph.
. There came very near being a litigation
about the gold thimble.
The Osmund heirs, of course, claimed
it. Equally, of courße, Fanny Darton
declared that when she bid in the quilt,
she kid in the thimble also. I
And the New York lawyer who was
consulted by his cousin's husband, who
had married an Osmund, said that they
had better let the thimble remain where
it was; and so the Osmunds gave up the
contest.
And Patience wears the gold thimble
to this day!
Harry Lynda came to apologize to her
for his hasty judgment; but he never got
further than the top of the hill, from
which he could see Patience helping
Milo Darton to weed the young beets.
“It’s true, then,” he said to himself, a
sharp pang piercing his heart. “They
are engaged!”
And iet us hope that it will be a lesson
to him—as well as to the rest of the
Darlington gentry—not to decide so
hastily again. —Helen Forrest Orates.
Diamond Mines of Brazil.
The diamonds of Brazil are all found
in a disintegrated stratum of quartzite,
lying upon the sandstone formation.
The discovery of these important mines
was an accident. A Portuguese traveler,
in 1727, while visiting the gold mines of
the Serra do Frio, about 400 miles north
of Rio Janeiro, noticed some bright crys
tals which the ignorant miners occasion
ally picked up and treasured as trifles,
taking some of these he showed them to
some Dutch traders, who at once recog
nized their value. These traders im
mediately contracted with the Brazilian
Government for all the rough diamonds
that might be found, and for a number
of years controlled the trade. The
Portuguese then shared it with them for
some time, and the diamond mines
were so extensively worked for
a number of years, and such
abundant supplies of the gems were
thrown on the market,that their price fell
heavily, and diamond dealers all over the
world wero terrified. The panic was
checked by the Brazilian government,
which claimed the working of the mines
as a royal monopoly and restricted the
supply of gems mined. In recent years,
however, the most of the mines have been
sold to private individuals. The mode
of obtaining the diamonds is by washing.
The miners dig down into the diamond
stratum; the quartzite sand, or the
gravel, as they take it out, is washed free
from earth in shallow wooden pans. The
gravelly deposit left is then passed
through a sieve, and the diamond crys
tals, if any are there, arc readily found in
the process. Generally speaking, the
diamond mined in Brazil have been small,
but u few remarkable gems have been
found in them. One of the most impor
tant of these is the Star of the South,
which was found by a negress in the
mines of Begagem in 1853, and which
weighed in its rough state 254 karats. It
was purchased, after being cut by a jew
eler in Amsterdam, Germany, by a
wealthy nobleman of that country. An
other fine gem was found in the river
Abfethe, in 1797, by some convicts who
had .escaped from prison and were hiding
in the mountains. It weighed 188
karats, and was sent to the King of Por
tugal, who, in return for the treasure,
pardoned the convicts. A few diamonds
over 100 karats in weight have been found
in Brazilian mines, and quite a number
over fifty karats, but the average weight
has been from one to four karats. The
aggregate diamond yield in Brazil has
fluctuated greatly, in past times ranging
from 20,000 or 30,000 karats annually to
as high as 000,000 karats. Though the
trade in diamonds is generally supposed
to be an important part of the country’s
commerce, it is really only a small frac
tion of one per cent, of the : total trade.
It averages something over f!2,500,000
annually, while the yearly exportation of
sugar .alone is about $17,000,000, and of
coffee over $53,000,000. — Inter-Ocean.
An Ugly City.
San Francisco is probably the ugliest
city in the Union, despite her beautiful
surroundings, her ideal situation, her
ravishing water view. Nature has ap
plied her with charms galore; btrt on her
face the deforming hand of man has left
heavy, hideous marks. Her architecture
is a nightmare of gray and wooden hor
rors; her houses Yack both paint and
dignity and are huddled together, sepa
rated by the omnipresent, ultra-ugly, all
pervading fence. A tall, wooden fence
has its obvious use in rural districts,
where it protects the grounds and gar
dens of the residents from the an welcome
incursions of roving cattle, but it is many
a year since kine and swine have been
permitted to gambol about the San Fran
cisco streets, and there is neither sense
nor beauty in the large, wooden structures
which surround the lawns and parterres
of every second house in Ban Francisco.
Eastern cities have long since abandoned
fences, except in some case*, where a
low, lacclike, iron railing is substituted,
and one can ride miles through the
beautiful boulevards of Chicago. Cin
cinnati, Detroit or Boston without seeing
a fence of any description. There your
grounds are separated from your neigh
bors’ only by a low, stone coping, and
the lovely expanse of preen and flowers
stretches away indefinitely, unmarred by
the painted excrescences which render
our streets as lugubrious as the shadow
of convent walls, which neither adorn
nor deix-nd, but sucecaafully conceal the
really beautiful lawn* which lie behind
their aged backs. —San Krntvieno Poet.
Looklug to tbe Future.
Row every bright ami sunny day
The fair and gentle maiden shops.
And buys the muslin and pique,
To make up into dresae* pay
To waar et future tuae.de bout.
—/piston l imi ter
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Down with the Tyrant*—An Im
portant Game —Inexcusable
Stupidity—A Joke on a
Senator, Etc.
“Yes,” said he to his neighbor across
the fence, “the laboring men are in the
right.’ It was time for them to rise
against the tyranny of capital. Down
with all tyrants, I say”
“John Henry!” shrieked a shrill voice
from the kitchen, “are you going to hang
out that clothes line and split that wood
and draw that water, or shall I have to
come out to-you?”
“Yes, Mirandy,” he answered meekly,
“I’m going right about it.” —Bostm
Journal.
An Important Game.
“Come on borne quicker ’n’ lightnin’i’
exclaimed a boy rushing up to an Estel
line man who was watching a game of
checkers in a Second street drug store.
“W-w-hy, what’s the matter?”
(‘The baby’s fell down the well!”
“Gosh! Fell clear down?”
“You bet he haa.”
“Got his head up out uv the water?”
“Yes, but we can’t get him out.”
“Well, it’s too thundering bad—you
see I’m sort uv backin’ this fellow on the
game and he’s just about got ’em where
he wants ’em. Tell my wife to heave
the rattle-box nnd the rubber-ring down
to the poor little fellow and sing to him
kind o’ soft like and I’ll be up just the
minute this game is finished.” —Estelline
(Hah) Bell.
Inexcusable Stupidity.
“Your beau seems very bashful,” said
a Dayton avenue mamma to her daugh
ter.
“Bashful,” echoed the daughter,
“bashful’s no name for it."
“Why don’t you encourage him a lit
tle more? Some men have to be taught
how to do thefr courting. He’s a good
catch."
“Encourage him!” said the daughter;
“he cannot take the most palpable hint.
Why, only last night, when I sat all
alone on the sofa, and ho, perched up in
a chair, as far away as he could get, I
asked him if ho didn’t think it strange
that a man’s arm and a woman’s waist
seemed to be the same length, and what
do you think he did?”
“Why, just what any sensiblo man
would have done—tried it."
“He asked mo if I could find a piece of
slriug so we could measure and see if it
was so. Ain’t he horrid!” —St Paul Her
ald.
Aloke an a Senator.
A gentleman met Senator Beck yester
day for the first time in a dozen years,
and the greeting was cordial.
“Ah, Senator,” said the friend, “you
don’t look a day older than you did the
last time I saw you."
“I’m a little grayer, pokslbly,” sug
gested the Senator, with a pleasant
smile.
“You are looking in excellent health,
too,” pursued the friend.
“Thank you. And do you know,"
continued tne Senator, “that I am sixty
four years old and I never paid but one
doctor’s bill in my life, and that for a
broken arm?”
“Is that so?” asked the friend in sur
prise.
“Fact, I assure you.”
“Well, Senator,” said the friend, with
a significant smile, “don’t you think it
is almost time you were paying some of
them and pieserving your credit?”
The Senator moved for an executive
session and presented a bill of explana
tions.— Waehington Critic.
Bill Nye in Washington.
Washington is the hot-bed of gayety,
and general headquarters for the recherche
business. It would be hard to find
a bontonier aggregation, than the one I
was just at, to use the words of a gentle
man who was there, and who asked me
if I wrote “The Heathen Chinee.” He
was a very talented man, with a broad
sweep of skull and a vague yearning for
something more tangible—to drink. He
was in Washington, he said, in the inter
est of Mingo county. I forgot ‘p ask him
where Mingo county might be. He took
a great interest in me, and talked with
pie long after he really had anything to
say. He was one of those fluent conver
sationalists frequently met with in so
ciety. He used one of those webperfect
ing talkers—the kind that can be fed
with raw Roman punch and that will
turn out punctuated talk in link* like var
nished suasages. Being a poor talker
myself, and rather more fluent as a lis
tener, I did not interrupt him. He said
that he was soiry to notice how young
girls and their parents came to Washing
ton as they would to a matrimonial
market. I was sorry also to hear it. It
pained me to know that young ladies
should allow themselves to be bam
boozled into matrimony. Why was it, I
asked, that matrimony should ever single
out the young and fair?
“Ah,” said he, “it is indeed rough!’’
He then breathed a sigh that shook the
foliage of toe speckled geranium near by,
and killedran artificial caterpillar that
hung on its branches.” —Bouton Globe.
“Showed Off.”
The hearts of many parents have been
saddened by having their children obsti
nately refuse to ‘ ‘show off” their mental
attainments in the presence of visitors.
It is always a parental delusion that this
display of Johnnie’s or Sally’s accomplish
ments cannot but be a source of infinite
joy to all beholders, wbereas the victim
ized visitor is simply enduring in enforced
silence the torture forced upon him.
Jenkins,a friend of mine, has a son three
years old, supposed by the Jenkins fam
ily to be an infant prodigy, a future
President, and all that. The friends of
the Jenkins family have different senti
ments, which I will not here expose be
cause of my regard for Jenkins. I called
at Jenkins' houaetheotber evening, when
the phenomenon of the family was fairly
overflowing with smartneaa. He oeme
into the room with a whoop and a yell
combined with e bop-step-and-Jump
movement that plunged him bead-long
into my lap, when be lay burrowing UU
bead into my stomach and screaming
frantically.
OWE DOLLAR Per Annum, In Advaaoa.
“There, there,” said Mrs. Jenkins,
“yon didn’t hnrt youraelf much, I guess.
Stop crying and speak your new piece foi
the gentleman.”
“I won’t!”
“Why, Johnnie, is that the way to
talk to mamma?”
“Ya-a-ai I”
“No, it isn’t. If you’ll speak your
piece Til give you some candy.”
“I want it first.”
“No, dear; speak your piece first. -
“I shan’t!”
“The gentleman wants to hear you.”
The “gentleman" didn’t want anything
of the kind, but he said he did, and
Johnnie finally condescended to standup
in a corner, give his head a jerk, and
begin:
“Terwinkle, terwinkle, ltttte sta-
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the—”
Here Johnnie suddenly breaks off and
goes racing and tearing around the room,
upsetting chairs, snatching at table
cloths and shouting like a young Indian.
“Don’t,” says Mrs. Jenkins, “thatisn’t
half of your piece.”
“It’s all I’m going to say,” and the
mad race is resumed.
“JohDnie! Johnnie I” interposes Jen
kins, Sr.
The infant Jenkins is uow standing on
his head in a corner, kioking out his
heels and laughing. This interesting
pastime is soon abandoned for the more
exhilarating one of prancing around the
room on his hands and feet and imitating
the “woof, woof” of a bear.
“You’re too noisy,” says Mrs. Jen
kins.
“Ain’t 1” briefly retorts Johnnie. t
“You are,” says Jenkins, Sr.
“I a-a-a-in’t!” shrieks Johnnie
“You John Henry Jenkins I”
Ire is in the father’s face and voice,but
Johnnie doesn’t care for ire or anything
else.
The result is a sort of pitched battle.in
which the combined forces of Pa and Ma
Jenkins are sufficient to drag Johnnie out
by the heels. His mother returns, red
and mortified.
“Children will never show off when
you want them to,” she says sadly.
It seems to me that Johunic has
“showed off” to perfection. —Detroit Free
Press.
Slaves of the Semlnoles. •
A correspondent of the Globe-Democrat,
writing from Tampa, Flq., says: In cer
tain of the more southern parts of Florida
negroes are held in as strict bondage as
ever they were before the great war in
any part of the country. Slavery sur
vives, however, only among the few rem
nants of the Seminole tribe who still have
their homes in the woods and everglades
south and east of the Caloosahatchie
River. There there are many families of
the red men, who, though perfectly inof
fensive, so far as the whites are con
cerned, maintain a dignified independ
ence of the general laws and administer
their own affairs in a way strongly remi
niscent of patriarchal traditions. They
live principally by the chase and upon
the fish of which all Florida waters,
lakes, streams and seas, are extremely
prolific; and for vegefablo food they de
pend upon small patches of ground
cleared here and there, as fancy may dic
tate, from year to year. The cultivation
of these patches among the poorer mem
bers of the tribe is carried on by their
women; but the more prosperous of the
Indians have their negro slaves, upon
whom they devolve all the hard labor of
cultivation, as well as the few items of
monial drudgery incident to their simple
methods of living.
It is curious to observe the-degree of
pride these Seminoles take in taqifqgt
that they are slave-holders. They are
perfectly aware that the whitg; people of
the country are forbidden to hold slaves;
that every negro throughout' the South
who once had to pay obedience to a
bondmaster has been freed; but they
don’t seem to understand that either
emancipation proclamations and enact
ments or constitutional amendments apply
to them. Hence they regard themselves
as a race of beings more highly privileged
than the whites—aristocrats who alone
are recognized as having rights of prop
erty in an inferior race. Nor is there
apparent among them the faintest sus
picion that their absurd rights can be
questioned by the law. Slave owning
and slave trading among themselves is
conducted as openly and with as much
confidence as ever it was in South Caro
lina or Alabama thirty or forty years ago,
and even when they visit the towns to
exchange their peltries for powder, cloth
ing, crockery and other necessaries, they
occasionally take with them their black
bondsmen, partly to perform any labori
ous duty that may happen to become
necessary, but partly, also, to enhance
their appearance of dignity and im
portance.
The Modern Boy.
...There is a vast difference between the
boys of to-day and those of fifty years
ago, more especially as regards the things
which minister to comfort and pleasure.
Perhaps it is only an old boy’s partiality
for old man’s ways, but it seems to us
that the hard experience of the old boys
did more for them in many ways than the
softer and easier lot of the new boys does
for them. The former were quite as
happy with the little they had as the lat
ter are with their much; and they were
taught—what th others are not—econ
omy, industry, ingenuity, self-denial,
self-reliance, the value of money, the
necessity of labor. Probably the new
method of training boys makes more
gentlemen, but the old method made more
men, and the world needs men more than
it does gentlemen.— Bt. Louis li‘pub
lican.
The National Game
'Tis now the ball, the little ball, compact and
hardened, smooth and smalt!
It first comes out, comas rushing out, along in
May or thereabout.
H maloan game, a noble game, to which all
other sports are tame;
And with a hat, a willow bat, it sometimes
knocks a catcher flat.
He weani a mask, a wiry mask, and then
MiYi his chowo task:
The hall comes through, comes rushing
through, perhaps so fast 'tis hid (rota
view.
Tbs batter bold, so brace and bifid, gats oa
his bat a firmer bold;
He makes a strike, a frantic strike, as if he
would propel a spike.
The umpire tbera. so patient there, ha has hi*
leAflof grUrf to boat*
Whan it is dona, the game is dune, U bo*
alive, ha takes the baa.
~JW-m a
NO. 19.