Newspaper Page Text
OOUBKA* * KXSBT, Editors ul Proprietors
VOL. XI.
ELLIJAY courier.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY
—BY—
COLEMAN A KIRBY.
Office in the Court House f- 1
GENERAL DIRECTORY.
Superior Court meets Sd Monday iu
May and 2d Monday in October.
Hon. James R. Brown, Judge.
George F. Gober, Solicitor General.
COUNTY COURT.
Hon. Thomas F. Greer, Judge.
Moultrie M. Sessions,County Solicitor.
Meets 3d Monday in each month.
Court of Ordinary meets first Monday
in each month.
TOWN COUNCIL.
J. P. Perry, Intendent.
M. McKinney, t, H. Tabor, I „
J. Hnnnicutt, J.R Johnson, j <Jom -
W. H, Foster. Town MarshaL
COUNTY OFFICERS.
J. C. Alien, Ordinary,
T. W. Craigo, Clerk Superior Court,
H. M. Bramiett, Sheriff,
J. H. Sharp, Tax Ileceiver,
G. W. Gates, Tax Collector,
Jas. M. West, Surveyor;
G' W. Rice, Coroner,
W. F. Hill, School Commissioner.
The County Board of h ducation meets
t Eilijay the Ist Tuesday in January
April, July and October.
KELKtIOTTS SERVICES.
Methodist Episcopal Church, South—
every 4th Sunday, and Saturday before,
Rev. C. M. Ledbetter.
Baptist Church—Every 2nd Saturday
and Sunday, by Rev. E. B. Shope.
Moth idist Ep sctpd Cburcb—F.ver
I<V -'a urday and Sunday, by Rev. R
H. Robb.
FRATB'iNAT, RECORD,
Oak Bowery Lodge, No 81, F. A. M.,
meets first Fnd iy in each month.
W. A. Cox, W. M.
1 . B. Greer, f\ W.
W. F. Htpp, J. W.
K. 7t. Roberts, Treat.
T. W. Craigo, See.
AY AV. Hoberts, Tyler,
T. B. Kirby, S. D.
11. M. Bramiett, J. D.
DR. I R. JfNstm,
, Physician jand Surge'
ELLIJAY,, GEORGIA
Tenders his professional
people of Gilmer and surrounding co*ar?
ties and asks the support of his friends as
heretofore. All calls promptly filled.
M. M. Sessions. E. W. Coleius
SESSIONS & COLEMAN,
attorneys at law,
ELLIJAY* GA
Will practice in Blu? Iti.lgo Circuit, CJountj
Court Justice Court of tiilmer County. Leirsl
business solicited. •‘Promptnsss” is our motto
DR. J. S. TANKERSLEY.
Physician and Surgeon,
Tenders his professional services to the cifci
eens of Ellijay, Gilmrr and surrounding conn
lies. All calls promptly attended to. Office
■pstairs over the firm of Cqbb & Son.
KITE WALDO THORNTON, D.D.S.
DENTIST,
Calhoun, Ga.
'Vill visit Ellijay and Morganton at
both the Spring and Fall term of the
Superior Court—and oftener by special
contract, when sufficient work is guar
anteed to justify me in making the visit.
Address aa above. TmavUl-lv
Young men
Who wish a Thobocoh preparation foi
Busines.-i, will find superior advantages al
MOOSE’S BUSINESS UEIVEBSITY,
ATLANTA, GA
Tho largest and best Practical Business Schoo
in the South. ©"Students can enter at anj
time. for circulars.
WHITE PATH SPRINGS!
—THE—
Favorite and Popular Resort •/
NORTH GEORGIA!
Ib situated G miles north of Ellijay on
the Marietta & North Georgia Railroad.
Accommodations complete, facilities for
ease and comfort unexcelled, and the
magnificent Mineial Springs is its chief
attraction. For other particulars on
board, etc., address.
Mbs. W. F. Robertson,
Ellijay, Ga.
CENTRAL HOTEL!
Ellijay, Georgia.
In the special popular resort for commercial ‘
men and tourists of all kind, and is the general '
house for prompt attention, elegant rooms and
are second to none, In this place. Seasonable
rates.
Mrs. H. Y. Teem will give her personal at
teuti n to guests in the dining hall. 1-14 i
Mountain View Hotel!
ELLIJAY, GA.
This Hotel is now fitted up in excel
lent order, and is open for the reception
of gueets, under competent management
Every poesible effort will be made te
make the Mountain View the most popn.
lr Hotel In EWjav. Accommodations ir
ovsey department first-class. LWegy, salt
and feed ifiHtrl with hotel.
Gueete tnaefawd to e*4 trim tH train
free ef ehetge.
THE ELLIJ ± { COURIER
The Edict of Mantes.
The edict of Nantes was issued by
' Henry IV. of France, April 13, 1528.
It was the new King's treaty of peace
with his dissatisfied Protestant sub
jects, or Hngue ots, as they were
called. Persecutions had driven the
Huguenots to take up arms in 1562.
At the same time they represented an
important political party, and the wars
which devastated France from 1562 to
1698 were not simply religious; they
were political wars, in which the lead
-r* of both parties were striving to
take advantage of the weakness of the
King and control the Government.
Jn the death of Henry ILL, in 1589, the
next heir to the throne was Henry of
Navarre, the leader of the Protestant
party. After his access on to' the
throne, he decided to become a Cath
olic, being conviuced that in this way
only could ha put an end to the civil
wars, as tho Catholics in the kingdom
were .largely in the majority. As the
Protestants were much dissatisfied at
this action, and inclined to be d'strust
ful of the King’s intent ons toward
them, Henry promulgated the edict of
Nantes to assure them of his good faith.
The importance of this edict to the
Huguenots was mainly in its recogni
tion of their political rights. It also
gave them a degree of religious, liberty
which, though much rest ieted, far ex
ceeded anything they had previously
enjoyed. It allowed the exere se of
the reformed religion to certain of the
more powerful nobles and to the cities
and towns, though it was prohibited in
all episcopal cities—that is. cities'in
which a Bishop resided—also in the
courts of the King and within a circle
of twenty miles outside of and includ
ing the city of Paris. However, pub
lic o t ces were opened to tho Hugue
nots, and chambers were established in
certain parliaments of the kingdom,
through which they might secure the
justice which they had foundso"didicult
to secure iu local tribunals. The chil
dren of Huguenots were also to bo ad
mitted, on the same terms as those of
Catholics, into every school or other
public institution in the kingdom. The
effect of this edict was to put an end to
the civil wars which had devastated
France, and for eighty-seven years this
wise measure continued to insure the
peace and prosperity of Franee, for the
Huguenots were a very industrious
people and comprised very largelv the
majority of the artisans of the king
iom. The edict was revoked by Louis
XIV. October 13, 1085. He was led
to do this by tho influence of TU.idama
3o Mu ntenon^'jA-- -**rtiua imugiAl in
pau woman was a most bigoted
Catholi j, and persuaded the King that
it wasliis duty to bring back all 1 ranee
to the true faille The exercise of their
. jbligion was therefore forbiddon to the
vuiuonols under se ornwienaHi-H, aud
£*■•<*; nfcjß* i to educate
ijllrnliiTilreft .ft t.hfe f ufidlic nlffi.
-jKit though emigration was forbidden,
over fifty thousand families left the
kingdom, carrying into other lands
their wealth, fiieir industries aud their
hitler resentment*. .They found warm
welcome in llolbintOEugland, and in
Uraudenburg. It lias Vigen said of Louis
XIV. that he dealt his own country a
blow, more fatal than all those of ior
eignrwnrH and tho JiuTcifoan coalition
fiffaiftst him. -The‘emigration of the
Huguenots alfhost randy ed the man
facturiug industries of the kingdom,
and was directly instrumental in. caus
ing the financial depression which
hastened tho approach of the French
revolution —lnter Oc“an'.
The Widow’s Mite.
...
She was the wife of a bank cashier, en
joying hsrself at Niagara. Sitting on
the hotel pizza .with a friend, she re
marked that her husband could not
come very well because lie was “tied to
his business.”
“An excellent precaution,” said her
friend, “with Canada so near.”
And now they don’t speak to each
other. Terns tijt ru/s.
The Finest Gfyaip j|ff|Bl[Q
*ls the Celebrated li 1151 ill]
Adjustable Reclining and Ming#
a With over FIFTY Changes
Horetk W?ss!
THINK OP IT!
A PARLOR, LIBRARY. SMOKING. RECLINING OR
INVALID CHAIR. LOUNGE, FULL LENGTH BED.
and CHILD’S CRIB, Combined, and Adjustabls to
ftfiy Rositioii uisiiD ior Comfort or OoftWßMnc^.
sqo4 it ohm for on* of our Cfltftfofluoi
Tp dOHpjyJY,
930 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.
INVALID ROLLING CHAlßjjta
(RECLINING)
APrloeltti sUgb
TraRL **w® u *mMt
uf&Tl or ’’
•* "4. .-m, iMU
i Eiijf Chair Cos., K.w Havrv Cm*.
"A MAP OP BUST Lift—lTS PLUOTVA SUB ITS VAST 09MCBMMS." .
ELLIJAY. GA.. THURSDA NOVEMBER 4. 1886.
•■ALWAYS SUNRISE SOMEWHERE.’
There is always sunshiue somewhere!
Though the uight be round thee drawn,
Somewhere still the east is brlght’ning
With the rosy flush of dawn.
What though uear the bat is flitting.
And the raven croaks his lay,
Somewhere still the sun bird’s greeting
Hails theris ng of the day!
Let us lay to heart the comfort
In this sweet reflection found,
That however dense our darkness,
Somewhere still the world around
Dews are glistening, flowers uplifting,
Wild birds warbling, as re born;
Lakes and streams and woods and mountains
Melting in the kiss of mom!
Ne’er was night, however dismal,
But withdrew its wing3 of gloom;
Ne'er wa; sorrow, but a day-star
Hinted of the morrow's bloom;
Ne’r was woo, but in its bosom
Was the seed of hope impearled;
There is still a sunrise somewhere
Speeding, speeding round the world!
—Xathan D. Urner.
Romance of a Hat-Mark.
Philip Northnm, coming hastily out of
Exchange Building one morning in Janu
ary, slipped on some ice at the top of the
marble steps and slid rapidly to the bot
tom. On Iris way, however, he encoun
tered a gentleman who was leisurely de
scending before him, whipped him
briskly from his feet and brought him
down by his side to the pavement below.
This unexpected introduction was ac
companied by a prompt removal of their
respective hats. Philip's rolled down to
the curbstone, and the stranger’s whirled
along the pavement to be stopped and re
turned by an opportirno bootblack. For
tunately no bodily damage was done to
ether of the embarrassed young men,
who instantly picked themselvos up,
with mut ally unnecessary apologies.
Philip, perhaps, had some raison d'etre,
as he had been the aggressive party, but
the same haste to catch a train that had
occasioned the tendering of the apology
made it naturally very brief. He barely
took time to assure himself that his fel
low-voyager to the sidewalk was not
hurt, then clapped his hat on his head
and rushed onward with the same speed
that defeated itself a few seconds previ
ous
Wc state that Philip clapped his hat
on his head, but the truth is, he clapped
on a hat in every way resembling it, yet
haVe nC I Ver
wear. PhilMta^Lt *
when he realized thasTjS22£* a
mistake, and exchanged
stranger, whom he had otherwise incom
moded by hurling him down stairs It
would ecera that De.tinv* J.-A b'en ara
meant agency to this unoffensive way
farer, and for no apparent reason but her
own wilful fancy. However, it would
probably be useless to return to the scene
of their rencontre, even if Philip had
had time. So he contented himself with
examining the hat as he sped up by the-
Elevated to his train at forty-second
street, and was glad to find in it a hat
mark, the initials W. W. C., neatly em
broidered on a band of dark garnet
silk and ornamented with sprays of floss
silk vine. No one had ever embroidered
a hat mark for Philip, and the rightful
owner of the misappropriated head-cov
ering became at once invested with a
sort of romance in Philip’s mind. The
hat of itself was anything but romantic,
being one of those hard, stiff Derbies,
that seem to have been invented for nb
other purpose th in to counteract any pos
sible good looks on the part of the owner.
“W. W. C.” Philip pondered not a
little over these cabalistic signs of
feminine care and interest; he examined
them so closely, indeed, that, after the
manner of ardent explorers, he made
an unlooked-for discovery. Under the
little silken band was tucked firmly a
slip of folded paper. Thinking it
might contain perhaps the full com
plement of the initials, Philip opened
and read it. A great flush passed over
his face, and his heart quickened with
sympathy. On the paper were written
these words, in a delicately feminine
hand :
“Will—lf you caro to preserve this little
souvenir, you will some time kuow that I
love you; too late, perhaps, for happiness,
but not too late for truth. God grant that
you may safely cross the ocean, and cross
back again to me.”
That was all. Philip’s ardent soul
thrilled with tenderness as he reverently
replaced the little scrap of paper in its
hiding-place, and continued to look
down at it, liko one in a dream How
could he put it on again, with this said
secret hovering above his brain? It
seemed a sacrilege that he, a stranger,
should be crowned even temporarily
with this “burden of an honor into
which he was not born.” Of course
necessity compelled him to wear it Until
he could procure one of his own, but the
Eathos of those few yearning words gave
im no peace. Even when he had ceased
to be conscious of their actual proximity
to his curly dark lock 9, and was again
his own man, at least to the extent of a
new Derby, he was not rid of their
haunting spell. The advertisements he
paid for in behalf of “W. W. C.” would
have purchased half a dozen hats, but
they brought him no sign nor token
from the missi g owner; and as time
wore on. the strange hat with its pathetic
secret lay h dden in a box in Philip’s
wardrobe, and became a thing of the
past.
Meauwhile Bate, spinning her web of
many tissues, spun for Philip, among
other things, a hat-mark of his own. it
was vsrv. very pretty, and very, very
precious, and Philip felt like a king who
is for the first time crowned with his
royal inheritance, when he knew that
he was ad udged worthy to wear the
favor of slender lily fingers whose light
est touch had thrilled him like a concen
tration of electric batteries. Fate’s
name,on this occasion, was Myra Browns.
She was fair and light-haired, with pretty
gray eyes, and a soft independence of
mind and ma uuir. Philip bad fallen in
love with her at first sight, but. she had
only grown by s ow degrees from indif
ference to interest front interest to friend
ship, from friendship to— wall, that
next step is scarcely perceptible, but her
dually resu tad in* glorious
aua<omeut for Philip. He could scarcely
trust him<elf to the contemplation of hja
own b’i hrb be realized thet the bap
pinte- of this strong yet delicate sad
impassioned soul w* ~* . hi* keep- |
ing. . ;, ' y i
“I bring you the f * . .£al love of my i
heart," she said, losing him through j
and through with her clear, sincere grav I
eyes. “Always remember this, Philip—
the first real love of ray heart/’
Philip stood abashed’ before ihe purity
of her gaze, reUu.mb ring how he had
written poems to this girl and that, and
pressed pretty hgods ith a fervor that
now rose tip to accuse him.
—*r~
Philip had been twp Jfears m possession
of the mysterious, secret-laden Derby,
and five months m.jrried, before these
circumstances found any relation to each i
other. Ho was lo firing through his
wardrobe one day, ard came out to Myra
with the hat in hijjland; and sitting
down, began to telhSA its romantic his
tory. Myra listened with her needle sus
pended and her lips apart, her face paling
and flushing with warm, womanly sym
pathy. Her pretty eves filled with tears
as she read the HttleWritten scrap Philip
placed in her hae<l| She went over it
silently two or thru, times, with a very
sad, compassionate glance; then, to Phil
ip’s amazement, tore tho paper into
shreads and throw .them from her out
of the window. Thj? Wind lost no time
in carrying them away.
“Myra!'’ he looke4 almost wildly after
the flying pieces. “What in-the world
induced you to do that?”
“It was the right thing to do, dear.” I
she answered, with quivering lips. “No
woman should betray her heart in that
way. If I ever could be tempted to for
get pride and dignity so foolishly, I
would be oblige 1 to any one who would
destroy the evidence of my folly.”
“But supposing I should And the
owner—the person to whom that paper
was addressed?”
“That isn’t likely now, Philip; of
coufts, if you do find him, you could tell
him. But, Philip,” looking earnestly at
her husband, “if I were you, I would
never tell any one- else. Such things
seem pretty and interesting; butthey
are more than that. They belong to the
heart's deep expei i -uce, and we should
not hold them light ly to talk of and
smile at. No, I ttxiik the poor girl who
wrote those imai' Ire words would be
glad to know t&jjaie destroyed. Be
lieve me, Philip,’’fjjiling at him gently,
“women can women. I have
done what is righflF*
Philip’s answer was his usual one when
Myra looked particularly pretty, as she
did just now.
“You are an tufkal,” he said, after
ward, “and, of (fjjrce, you are right;
but I am thinking of the man’s side, !
don’t you see? TMa message belonged i
to him, whoever, -JRerevor he is, and I
would never think of stopping it on its
ubne view it seems,
Myra
wouldn’t do thai Ties!(ref
if the mails ate going to hohg trouble to
people, they ought to be robbed—the
sooner the better. ’’
“Oh,- my deal girir said Philip,
laughing. 9
“Well, of course!” rejoined Myra, de
cidedly. "But it ifl so hard to make
men understand tgtngs os they really are.
Philip!”
“Yes, my love.”
“I want you to promise me that you
won’t tell any one—any one—about that
scrap of writing, .unless you find the—
the person for wWa it was intended. I
want you to pronffjfci this for the poor
foolish woman’s SJ. Won’t you, dear
est?”
“I promise—for this poor foolish
woman’s sake,” said Philip, looking
down with, rapture at her lifted eyes;
and he was nearer to the truth than he
knew.
One bright Sunday morning not long
after this, when there was a cradle in
their house, and in it a little golden
head, worth all the rest of the gold in
the world, a card was bro tgbf to Mrs.
Northam. It bore the nan.'e of Walker !
W. Carroll. She passed it to her bus j
band with a shade of annoyance on hir
face. • I
“Ah, this is your old friend, Carroll, I i
suppose—the odb you have spoken of so
oiten?” ho remarked, pleasantly.
“Yes. I hadn't heard that he was
back from Englund, though.” Myra was j
i running a brush over her hair, and look
i ing at her face as she spoke: “I wonder
if his wife is with him? But what an'
I hour to call I It can’t be half-past nine.” ;
“Lucky we are up,” said Philip, with
a laugh; or,rather, thanks to that brigand
and pirate in the cradle there. He never
seems to enjoy his sleep until he has
robbed us of ours. Shan’t I go down
and receive your friend, if you don’t feel
quits ready, Myra.”
“I am quite ready now, thanks,” said
' Myra, promptly: “and don’t leave the
baby, please, till Maggie comes up.” .
(-he parsed Philip in crossing to the
; door, turned back and kissed him, and
went and wn-staira.
A tall, brown and bearded stranger
i was standing in the parlor, looking at
the door expectantly as she entered, both
hands outheld in friendly welcome.
“Win:”
j “Myra!” !
“lain so glad ”
“Such a lovely Surprise •
“And liovv have you been ?”
“I heard you wi re married.”
“And you never wrote.” •
Who <an reproduce the first hurried
words of greeting after u long separa
tion ( Spec h and smiles, and blushes
and eager looks mingle inextricably,
at once. After a moment or two the
mists of feeling* .clear a little; it is hosier
to speak, but not so im erative
Mviaatdown by her friend on a little
sofa. The welcoming look had not quite
goneo. t of her face when she said, im
pressively:
“Will, I must aak you something now.
Ho you remember the little hat-mark I
ma le you before you went away < I put
it in your hat myself the night before
you sailed.”
“DoI iem tuber? ! should think aol
But imagined wht happened. Tb Tory
next morning I* lost my hat. It waa
knocked oil m; ' *1 and picked up by
another man. ’ J
“Yea, I know s<*jd Myra, quickly;
“by my busbar Kta Philip Northam/
••You don' ‘ \ Your husband?
And 1 got Id- rx'bange. Hal ha!
The iong-k'- 1 atii about time we
•hould return,, £>.
, But Myra M. smiting, she Ml
/ '
clasping and unclasping her bands, nerv
ously.
“Will did you notice—did you exam
ine my little’ gift very closely?” she
asked,’with strange hesitancy. “You
know, I fastened it in myself.”
• “Yes, I know. It was awfully kind
of you, too. I felt so sorry to think I
couldn't have kept it!”
“And—and you are sure you didn't
see anything else with it?— anything ex
cept the hat-mark?”
She spoke slowly, searching his face
with her eyes.
“Anythingelse!” he repeated, wonder
ingly. “Whst kind of a thing, for in
stance? I don’t understand."
She looked at him, now, with the
brightest smile he had ever seen her
wear. jA
“Ofi, Isn't fate ztrango, Will! isn't it
strange and‘good? It won’t let usjhavc
our own way; it snatches fromipl the
things we covet, but only to give us
something so much better. lam glad
for everything, though—everything!" *
“What a remarkable etate of mind 1
Do you think you could explain your
meaning a little?" ,'
“No,” she Baid, joyously ; “I never
can; I never wifi! lam too thankful 1
And then,” she added, depreeatingly,
“a woman mftst always be mysterious,
you know.”
‘‘She always is, I know.”
“She must be,” insisted Myra, gently.
“The conditions of her life are such.
And, Wifi, I am going to ask you now
to be c little mysterious, too.”
“But wherefore shouldst thou?" He
gave her a comical look of dismay!
“That I can't tell you, either; only, if
Philip—if my husband should ever show
you—should ever tell you his romance of
a hat, it has nothing to do with youl
You never had a like experience; no girl
ever gave you a hat-mark, or, if she aid,
you never lost it. Do you understand?”
“I don’t, in the least; but I can follow
instructions. Wifi that answer?”
“It is all I could ask.” she answered,
smiling on him gracefully. “And one
thing. You will not mind if I call you
Walker, instead of Wifi, as I used to?”
“Walker is a frightful name 1” he said,
resignedly. ‘ ‘My wife calls me that when
she wants to tense me. I suppose I can
beat it, if I must.”
“Oh, tell me about your wife, tfalker,”
Was Myra’s reply. “And no think you
married an English girl I I know she
must be charming. And you will like my
j dear, lovely Philip. He is so splendid
1 and so good. ”
“Of course. Well, do you know’, Myra,
I often used to wonder what soit of a
man you ever would really care for. You
i seemed so hard to suit.”
“Did I?" asked Myra, with a deep, deep
blush. “Philip suits me. ” !
t-
It was rather itrnnge, when the time
came for Mr. Orroll to examine his long
lost and oft regretted Derby, to dc so
the embroidered initials were the \ame
as his own. And still more strange was
it, in view of these coincidences, to re
ceive from the hand ef Mr. Northram his
own property as a gift.
“I am pretty sure never to find the
real owner now,” Philip said, thought
fully. “Tho hat’s an excellent hat, and
enough in style. And as the initials be
long to you, why, I really think you
ought to wear it out, hat-mark and all.
And especially as it fits you so well."
“It does fit me,” said Mr. Carroll, look
ing down confidentially at the hat as the
sharer of n scciet. But, for the matter
of that, the hat had a secret of its own.
—Madeline 8. Bridget.
Origin of Short-Horn Cattle.
This noble breed of bovines is of re
mote origin. For some centuries previ
ous to the conquest of England by the
first William, in the year 1060, the war
like Scandinavians of Denmark and
Sweden had made frequent predatory in
cursions into Northumbria. The object
of these incursions was conquest plunder,
trad •, and subjection of the Britons to
their rule and domination. Many of the
marauders settled in Northumbria, and
became incorporated with the natives by
marriage and succession of their fami
lies, and so remained until the invading
forces were driven back to their own
shores under the power of the new con
queror. Asa consequence of the Scan
dinavian invasions commerce between
them and the Northumbrians became
frequent, aud the cattle of the neighbor
ing continent were more or .less intro
duced on to British soil. So far as we
can learn from imperfect history and
tradition, those cattle were large in size,
short in the horn, rather coarse frames,
the cows giving abundance of milk, and,
when fatted for slaughter,Le ,vy weights
of beef of rather coarse quality. Their
colors were either pure white, or pale
red and white more or less intermixed
into roan, or brindled, sometimes red,
no other colors prevailing.
It has been from that ancient
in all probability, that the grand breed
of improved short-boras has descended.
— Harper'*.
Gastronomic Gossip.
Grated cucumbers is the way some
hotels now serve them with fish.
Frozen tisli continue to be used at a
large number of summer hotels.
Curried eels are enumerated as an en
tree on the bill of fare of a Boston hotel.
Gooseberries and calf’s brains arc the
prize dishes among epicurean dudes.
Little neck clams are now sold at Lon
don restaurants as an “American deli
cacy.”
Fritters made out of canned fruits
should be included among the trash of
the hour.
Light out of ten hotels make theit
“chicken” salad out vl veal or cold
lamb
Frog legs rarely equal the demand.
The be.-t in the market now come from
Canada.
Don’t.
Don't get up on each occasion bellowing like
the bulls of Basham, and like a loud
calliope crack the canopy with sound.
Don't be of a month the owner like the
whale's that swallowed Jonah, and with
word. Niagara cataracts deluge all the
country round.
Den'S go off at every motion in a dynamite
explosion, without an introductory, an
tecedent, hew or ‘OUgfc.
ammunition and proceed to shoot ft of?.
IF. Foss, in I'id-is if*,
BUDGET OF FUN.
UMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Kiss Me, 100 -W here He Had Seen
Them—A Remarkable Youth—
Jones’s Nest—A Fair Ex
change, Etc.
But, if there was diplomacy and pres
ence of mind shown in this answer, how
much more was there in the case of the
young lady who sat in an alcove at an
evening party with a bright, young mil
itary man, her little niece on her knee to
play propriety. Suddenly the company
is electrified by the exclamation of the
child:
“Rise me too, Aunt Alice I’’
But the sudden shock is succeeded by
a feeling of relief as Aunt Alice calmly
replies:
“You should not say, ‘Kiss me two,’
dear; you should say, ‘Kiss me twice.’”
—Pitttlwrg Dispatch. ,
Where he Had Seen Them.
“Look at the Indians!” exclaimed a
young woman tourist to her companion
tourist, a young man, as the two walked
along Third street, and spied a bevy of
red men and squaws on lower Jackson
street.
“Let us go and talk to them,” said he.
i “Oh, I’m afraid,” said sha. “Don’t
you think it is daugerous?"
They sauntered' down the street to
where the Indians were seated on the
curbstone, awaiting the departure of their
train.
“Great chief,” ejaculated the male
tourist, addressing one of the bucks, and
j handing him a cigar.
The buck took the cigar and was
i silent.
“Has the great chief killed many buf
! falo, bears and tigers?” asked the tour
i ist.
The buck shook his Acad and busied
himself in the donated cigar.
“Th ureat chief has seen the buffalo,
Kir.s and tigers, hasn't he?”
He signified that his eyes had flashed
on such animals by nodding his head.
“Where did the great chief see them?”
“In Barnum's circus,” replied the
buck.— Bt. Paul Qlobe.
A Remarkable Youth.
“Have yon any offspring?” inquired
the severe, long-haired passenger, of a
stranger at his side.
“Oh, yes,sir,” was the polite reply, “a
j JUU _ g
“Never touches it in anyTmm!”
“I’m glad to hear that. Tobacco is
monstrously sinful. Does ho indulge in
spirituous liquors!”
“Never tasted a drop in his life.”
- Uvat. Stay out nights?” j
‘ *"Sb. Vtf *..!■ <.. •
aftor supper.”
“I’m very much pleased to know this, j
sir. Your sen is a rcmarable young
man.”
“Oh, he’s not a young man. He’s a
two months’ old baby.”— Life.
Jones's Nest.
“Say,” said little Tommy to youug
Jones, who was paying his attentions to
Tommy's sister—attentions not very well
received by the parents becMiso the young
man was poor and the daughter a pros
pective heiress—“ Say, Mister Jones*
have you got a nest?”
Jones—“ What an idea that is, Tom
my; birds alone have nests.”
Tommy—“ You ain't a bird, I know,
’cause yer ain’t got no wings. But you
must, have a nest somewhere, all the
same.”
Jones—“ Well, suppose I have a nest,
what then?"
Tommy—“ Are you all out of feathers?”
Jones —“Tommy, you are the queerest
boy I ever saw and ask the most prepos
terous questions. What put all of this
stuff in your head?”
Tommy—“Nothin’ much, only I heard
father ask mother why that fool Jones
came to see sis so muen, and mother said
you probably hoped to feather your nest
by marrying her, but you would slip up
on it.”— Texas Siftings.
A Fair Exchange.
Away down in Maine, in a region
where the usages remain as primitive as
they are anywhere in the United States,
there is an aged parson who performs
not only the ordinary clerical duties,
preaching to the people of the district,
marrying and burying them, but also
turns an honest penny by cutting their
hair on occasions. The old parson isn’t
exactly an artist in this line, and is dis
tre-singly absent minded, but there is no
barber anywhere in the neighborhood,
and nobody there cares much about a
Parker House cut, any way.
One diy ’Lige Jones, an old codger
and jack at ail trades of the neighbor
hood, came to the parson to get his hair
cut; und the parson, who was evidently
medi'ating too deeply his next Sunday's
sermon to note wbat. he was doing, cut
the hair in most phenomenally ragged
style. in some plac es he had shorn the
hair down to the > calp, and in others left
it almost unt niched; to that when he
had fin shed his absent-minded task-his
subject’s head had a weird and unkempt
look that was wonderful to behold.
“What shall I pay ye, parson?” he
asked.
“Oh, come and mow the hazel brush
out back of the house, to-morrow,” said
the parson.
When ’Lige got home his wife ex
claimed :
“Mercy on me! wbat you been a
doln’?”
“Gittin’ my hair cut,” said ’Lige.
“Lavs a me, if the parson didn’t do a
purty job this time,” said she, “then
there ain't no truth in revelation!”
Next day the par-on had a funeral to
attend to, and when he got home he
found the man whose hair he had cut
the day before just lea' ing the place.
He had mowed ti e hazel bush so ttiat in
one spot the tops had just been mowed
off, iu another it was cut hal way down,
is another mowed to (he ground, and iu
another torn up by the roots. It was
tha sorriest looking tial 1 that- anybody
ever saw.
“Why, I decline!” said tha parson.
“What hsvaycra baen doing t”
“Mowin’ tfaa h**e|,” sud ’I ig*.
“Mowin’ it ? You’va hven manglin'
it, said ihe nat eon.
OVB DOLLAR Pr *■—, la *s -p-
’Lige simply took off his hat, and pre
sented hit chaotic crown to the parson's
gaze.
“Well, well," said he: “did I do that ?
Well, come into the house, and Til cut it
for you.”
The parson did the best work that he
could this time, eonsidering the havoc
he had made the day before, and when
he had finished ’Lige Jones took up his
bush scythe again and—went home.—
Boston Becord.
How the Old Man Lost His Satcbel-
An old man carrying a corpulent
satchel disembarked from the steamer
City of Cleveland one morning this week
and started on his way uptown. At the
comer of Water street a young man in
glasses rushed up to him, seized him by
the arm and exclaimed:
“Ah, my dear Mr. Dumpkins. What
an unexpected meeting!”
“Very unexpected, very,” said the old
man, wearily. “But my name is B.igsby,.
John K. Sagsby, of Bucyrus, Ohio.”
“A thousand pardons," said the
stranger, very much mortified. “You
are the very picture of .him. What a
misfortune to be so near-sighted!”
“Don’t mention it,” replied the old.
man, adding to hhnself as the spectacled
gentleman disappeared around the comer,
“Same old game.”
At the comer of Water and Superior
streets a clerical iooking gentleman, with
side whiskers, grasped his hand warmly
aud exclaimed:
“Is it possible? My old friend Sagsby
of Bucyrus. It must be.”
“The very same,” replied the old man,
“and you—why, you aro Sam Jimson,
sure as guns,” and the old man, sitting
down bis satchel, slapped him on the
back with a cordiality which loosened
hia back teeth.
“I—l—that is—yes, of course,” stam
mered the side-whiskered grotieman.
“And how is dear old Bucyrus getting
on?" '
"Buriy,” replied the old man, taking
the other’s arm with a grip that made
him wince. “Aud just think that you
i are Sam Jimson that used to come and
see my sister Maria years and years
ago.”
“And Maria, how is she doing?” asked
the stranger eagerly. “Tell me of tho
companion of my boyhood days.”
“Bead,” replied the old man in a
choking voice. “Dead and gone.”
“Dead?” cried the other, taking out hia
handkerchief and swabbing his eyes.
“No, no. It cannot be. Maria dead?
How inexpressibly sad. Cut down in
her blooming womanhood like a tender
flower. Pardon my excess of grief.
When did the sad event take place?”
“Let me see,” said the old man,tight
the other’s arm. “That
two years and three UWf
he did. Cholera infantum was what
did it. Cut down, as you remarked, in
her blooming womanhood like a tender
< *' 7r i3- r-guese m -m...
now,” saiu the gentleman of the side
whiskers, struggling to get away. “I
have an appointment across the river.”
"So have I,” said the old man, “and
on the way we’ll talk about that $25 1
loaned you when you came up to Cleve
land. Haven’t got it with you? Well,
perhaps that policeman across the street
yonder will tend it to yQU. Suppose
wo—” *
But just at this point the clerical
looking gentleman slipped out of his
coat, galloped off down Superior street,
turned under the Viaduct end disap
peared.
' “Cur’us," muttered the old man, going
through the coat to see if there was any
change in the pockets. “This is the
third time, and they always leave me
just when the conversation is at the most
interesting point. Guess they’ll leave
me alone after this. Hello 1 Where’s
my satchel? Where’s my—"
But it was gone. The young man in
spectacles had not been idle.— Cleveland
Sentinel.
“Featherbone.”
The scarcity of whalebone, its high
price, and a demand for an article in its
stead, led Mr. E. K. Warren to invent
“Featherbone,” a substitute prepared
from the quills of geese and turkeys.
The factory is located in Michigan. aud r
in the short space of two years, the on
terprise has grown to a large industry.
As the discovery brought to existence a
new substance, it becomes necessary to
invent machinery required in its manu
facture. These operations have passed
the stage of experimental existence, and
“Featherbone" is now an article of com
mercial value. The quills of turkeys and
geese only ave used. The first process
strips the plumage from the quills. A
set of revolving knives then divides tha
quills in halves. Kadidly revolving sand
paper rollers then remove the pith. The
quills are then passed to an ingeniously
constructed system of interlocking knives,
which reduces them to fiber. These
fibers are then fed to a machine which
twists them into a fine cord wrapped
with thread. Another machine wraps
four of these cords with thread and
forms them into a fiat tape. A sewing
machine places a row of stiehes between
each cord, which gives the tape increased
strength and adds to its elasticity, and
the whole is then passed between two
large rollers, which gives it a unifoim
thickness and makes it ready for market.
The article is said to be unbreakable,
and, if bent double, will retain its
strength and elasticity. In dress-making
it po sesses the advantage over whale
bone of being lighter, cheaper, more
durable, and needs no casings, as it is
sewed to the goods. It is superseding
whalebone in the manufacturing of
whips, and a large whip-factory is the
outgrowth of Mr. Warren’s discovery.
The plumage of the feathers is used for
making a very good quality of matt esses,
and the pith, being shown by analysis to
be rich in nitrogen, is used as afertili er.
About HOO jobbing houses handle their
goods, and the factory gives employment
to 150 personq and consumes 80,000
quills aud 125 miles of thread daily.—
Chicago Current.
Senator Stanford, of California, has a
parrot which cost him several hundred
dollars, and is a wonderfully educated
bind It speaks four languages—Eng
lish, Franch, German and Dalian. Tha
strange part of it is that the parrot, aa
soon qa he hears any one apeak, knows in
wbat language to address tha person.
So man is boro ipto tha wwid whose
woi k is not burn with him.
NO. 34.