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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.