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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.