Newspaper Page Text
OOLBXAH * KIRBY, Editor* ud Proprietor*.
VOL. XL
ellijay courier.
PUBIJBHED EVERY THURSDAY
—by-
COLEMAN A KIRBY.
Office in the Court House
generaFdirectory.
Superior Court meets 8d Monday in
Msy and 3d Bonday in October.
COUNTY OFFICERS.
J. C. Alien, Ordinary, -
T. W. Craigo, Clerk ’Superior Court,
H. M. Bramlett, Sheriff,
J. H. Sharp, Tax Receiver,
G, W. Gates, Tax (.Collector,
Jas. M. West, Surveyor,
G. W. Rice, Coroner,
W. F. Hill, School Commissioner.
The County Board of Education meets
at Ellijay the Ist Tuesday in January.
April, July and October.
Hon. James R Brown. Judge.
George F. Gober, Solicitor General.
COUNTY COUKT.
Hon. Thomas F. Greer, Judge.
Moultrie M. Sessions,County Solicitor.
Meets 3d Monday in each month.
Court of Ordinary meets first Monday
iu each moLth.
TOWN COUNCIL.
E. W. Coleman, Intendant.
L. B. Greer, J
’J' Yi ' , '/ Commissioners.
L. P. Cobb, Jr. ;
J. Long, j
M. T. Dooly, Marshall.
RELIGIOUS 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.
• Methodist Ep’scopal Church—Ever.
Ist Saturday and Sunday, by Rev. R
11. Robb.
FRATERNAL RECORD,
Oak Bowery Lodge, No 81, F. A. M,,
moets first Friday in each month.
W. A. Cox, W. M.
L. B. Greer, 8. W.
W. F. Hipp, J. W.
It. Vj Roberts, Treis.
T. W. Craigo, Sec.
W. W. Roberts, Tyler.
T. B. Kirby, S. D.
li. M. Bramlett, J. D.
= DR. J. R. JOHNSON,
Physician and Surgeon
ELLIJAY, GEORGIA.
Tenders his professional services to the
people of Gilmer and surrounding coun
ties and asks the support of his friends as
heretofore. All calls promptly filled.
M. M. Sessions. E. W. Coleman.
SESSIONS & COLEMAN,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
ELLIJAY, GA.
Will practice iu Blue Ridge Cirouit, County
Court Justice Conrt of Gilmer County. Legal
business solicited. ‘‘Promptness” is our motto.
OR. J. S. TANKERSLEY.
Physician and Surgeon,
Tenders his professional services to the citi
sens of Ellijay, Gilmer and surrounding conn
iies. All calls promptly attended to. Oflice
upstairs over the firm of Cobb & Bon.
RIiFE WALDO THORNTON, D.D.B.
, DENTIST,
Calhoun, Ga.
Will visit Ellijay and Morganton at
both the Spring and Fall torm of the
Superior Court—and oftener by special
contract, when sufficient work is guar
anteed to justify me in making the visit.
Address as above. Tmavil-li
Young men
Woo wish a Thorough preparation foi
Business, will iiml superior advantagesal
MOORE’S BUSINESS UNIVERSITY
ATLANTA, GA.
The largest and best Praotical Business Sehoo
in the Bouth. cm enter at any
time. for circulars.
WHITE PATH SPRINGS!
—THE—
Favorite and Popular Resort o]
NORTH GEORGIA!
Is situated 6 miles north of Ellijay on
the Marietta & North Georgia Railroad.
Accommodations complete, facilities for
ease and comfifft unexcelled, and the
magnificent Minetal Springs is its chief
attraction. For other particulars on
board, etc., address,
Mrs. W. F. Robertson,
Ellijay, Ga.
CENTRAL HOTEII
Ellijay, Georgia.
In the special popular resort for eamnercial
men and tourists of all kind, and is the general
house for prompt attention, elegant rooms and
are second to none, in this place. Reasonable
rates.
Mrs. M. y. Tsem will give her personal at
tention to guests in the dining hail. 1-14
Mountain View Hotel!
ELLIJAY, GA.
This Hotel is now fitted up in excel
lent order, and is open for the reception
of guests, under competent management
Every possible effort will be made t
make the Mountain View the most popu
lar Hotel in Ellijay. Accommodations is
every department first-claas. Livery, salt
and feed stables in connection with hotel.
Guests tme sifted to and from all trail)*
free of charge- tU\y
THE ELLIJAY COURIER
Developing Business Talent.
The junior partner in one of the most
important commission firms has a son,
sged eight, who is the pride of his
father's heart. But nevertheless he be
lieves in giving him an occasional lec
ture. Last Sunday morning he talked
to him on extravagance.
“You spend too much money for aboy
of your age, Tom,” he said, “and more
over, you seem to have no idea of the
principles of money-getting. I should
like to sec some evidence of business
ability. Now, run out and buy me a
morning paper.”
In about !eu minutes the lad returned.
“Well, did you get the paper?” asked
his father.
“Oh, yes.”
“Then give it to me.”
“No, I think I’ll keep it.”
“Wliat.” cried the father in astonish
ment. “What do you mean?”
“I think it.is a good investment,” re
turned the boy calmly. “I think the
price is going up.”
“You young sbamp, here's a dime'.
Now give me the paper.”
“No; I don’t believe I’ll take a dime.
I'vo got a corner on the newspaper market
of this house, and I propose to force the
price up to a quarter before I unload. I
guess I know a good ‘deal’ when I see
it.”
“My boy,” said the proud father, as
he fished a quarter out of his pocket, “I
was mistaken about your having no busi
ness ability. You come down to the
office to-morrow, and I’ll take you over
and introduce you to Mr. Armour. He’ll
give you a partnership, I know.”—Chi
ago liambhr.
An Eleplian.’s Memory.
The Loudon Daily Telegraph says;
An amusing circumstance happened at
Hythe, when an elephant belonging to
a circus freely helped himself to an
early breakfast. It appears that be
tween threo and four o’clock in the
morning, the animal managed to effect
his es; ape from his companions, and
paid a visit to a house with which his
memory had a pleasant association—a
little shop at the corner of Market
street. On arriving at the place the
elephant found that it was -closed, but
nothing daunted he coolly lifted the
door off its hinges and helped himself
liberally to the contents of the shop,
po’atces, apples and sweets. When he
had either satisfied his appetite or had
exhausted the supply of good things lie
retraced his steps, and on his return
journey he was met by his keepers, who
liad in t e meantime become aware of
his absence.
The animal visited Hythe about 11 or
12 years ago, and when passing this
house was treated by its then tenant to
a good meal of potatoes. This seemed
to have lott so good an impression on
Ihe animal’s memory that he was led to
pay another visit to so pleasant a spot,
with the result as recorde l above.
About tire same time the next morning
he again got away and was making for
the same place, but was discovered by
his keeper before he had gone far on
hi3 expedition.
Surrosa n man begins life with eco
nomical habits, and by rigid self-denial
accumulates SIO,OOO by the time he is
25. This sum will have increased to a
competency when he desires to be free
from the cares of business, and he can
then, and indeed for years before, have
the pleasure of laying out his money
freely and without fear in gratifying his
tastes or doing good. But if he is in
clined to humor bis tastes when young
—1 o buy we will say expensive furniture
or to mingle too freely in society, so that
he never saves at a l until he is five and
forty—what good will SIO,OOO do him
then. It is, of course, good in itself,
but as the foundation of a competency
such a sum is wholly inadequate. It
would amount to only $40,000 at 65, and
not to a competency till long after three
score and ten. One dollar at 21 is worth
$l2O at 90, and SIOO spent in foolery
and finery before five and twenty is
simply $3,000 thrown away from that
provision which should be made for the
time when work must be a burden.
“O’lUfferty,” said Juilgo Duffy of
tlie New York Police Court, “your
wife swears you strn k her with great
violence.” “Wid great violins, whin
there is devil a fiddle, big or little, on
the prarr.eses. She exaggerates too
much ontoirelv. yer Honor. It was wid
me boot that I rebuked her.”— Texas
Siftivqft.
T he fl i2 e .f.S t!ai,i IJIORIfS
Is the Celebrated 111 11 II IIU
Adjustable Mning and Folding
mm m *'srsss£- m
unjlll} Kon ik 16,000 now in Use!
THAT vL—k
SHOULD BE IN WP
EVERY HOUSE. fflj
THINK OF IT!
A PARLOR, LIBRARY, SMOKINfi, RECLINING Oft
INVALID CHAIR, LOUNGE. FULL LEN6TH BED.
and CHILD'S CRIB, Combined, and Adjustable to.
any Position requisite for Oomfort or Convenience.
Send at once for one of our Catalogues.
Tp CW^dOMpUJIY,
930 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.
INVALiD ROLLING CHAlfltb
(RECLINING)
and MiSRRiu
ta on.y raaou.atlurcn oY reoUamg rolling obun.
_ Em Chair Cos.. Hays’- ft.-- >.
, SJr&WnrwiK i?ircot
"A MAP or BUST UWB-XTS FLUCTUATIONS AND ITS VAST CONCERNS.”
ELLIJAY, GA., THURSD A Y;,< XO-VEMBER 25. 188. -
SEA AND SKY.
Long ago, when the world was new,
The sapphire sky and the ocean blue
Wedded one summer day;
And the sky still bends as the years go by,
And the ocean leaps to the bending sky,
For constant lovers are they.
Bat when a mist arises between,
The ocean, grown with jealousy green,
His doubts to the listener Jells.
He storms and frets, ha rages and roars,
In furious wrath he beats his shores,
While his turbulent bosom swells.
The sky, though dark with a moment's frown,
Will tenderly from its height look down
With a radiant smile diviDe.
The green to blue with its magic skill
Twill change, and the stormy ocean still,
And the sun of love will shine.
Pause thou, my heart! and the lesson read:
When the darkness falls and with jealous
speed
The mists of doubt arise—
Fret not! ’-twill pass, and thou wilt know
That the sun still rhines with a fervent glow
In love’s unchanging skies.
. —Mary J. Ifattis.
A MIDNIGHT SPECTRE.
At thffage of twenty-six I went to live
in a graveyard, and I offer this circum
stance as proof that I was not' n nervous
or superstitious person. Had I been
either, I would have selected a less grue
some dwelling-place.
I do not pretend that I preferred a
graveyard to any other place of resi
dence. On the contrary, if I had been
questioned on the subject, I would have
said that a cemetery was a good enough
place for a dead man, but that it was not
good enough for a live one; nevertheless
there were considerations strong enough
to induce me to to go there to live.
I knew the sexton of the village
church. This man and his good wife
lived in a cottage in the cemetery, and
they suggested that I should have my
board and lodgings under their roof. I
was a young barrister then, with >ut much
practice or income, and I was obliged to
economize. I owned a very large library,
and required more room than the hall
bedroom that is the usual habitation of
the “single gentleman” in lodging
houses. The sexton offered me two roomy
apartments and my board at so low a
figure that I was glad to nccept his
terms.
I had an almost overwhelming desire
to save money. Not that I was naturally
penurious, but I had a strong incentive
in Miss Ethel Hartley. I had been en
gaged to Miss Hartley for many months,
but had not yet been able to offer her a
home. All of my energies were devoted
to one object—i. e., to earning a home
for the woman who was to be my wife.
I reflected that my cheap lodgings would
help me accomplish this object, and I
would have cheerfully consented to live
iu a charnel-house, if by so doing I could
have ha toned my wedding day.
It was the sexton’s duty to dig the
graves, to keep the g. ounds in order, and
to protect them from vandalism. In
order to facilitate his labors, his cottage
had been built in the middle of the ceme
tery, and was on a little knoll, from
which he could command a view of the
surrounding premises. It was built of
gray stone, and externally was su like a
mausoleum that it would bed fficult to
distinguish the one from the other, it
was ceria nlv not a cheerful place, and
the vaults aud graves about it gave it an
air of lonesome solemnity that I will not
attempt to describe.
I had a suspicion that Ethel would dis
approve of my removal to the sexton’s
cottage, so I did not mention the matter
to her until all my arrangements had
been made. I did not wish to be per
suaded to nbandgft it.
The sexton had nssured me that I
would find his “a nice, quiet place,”
where I could read and study without
being disturbed by any noise of any
visits from my neighbors. He made an
effort to l.e jocose, and assured me that
I would “find ’im a heap less trouble
some than any other neighbors.”
I was indisposed to be critical of my
new quarters. My ro ms were large,
clean and airy; my food was abundant
and wholesome, and mine host and
hostess were thoroughly respectable.
But there was one thing about the cot
tage that I seriously disliked, and that
was its name. Ido not mean its repu
tation, for that was above reproach; but
it had been named “Death’s Lodge.” 1
cannot imagine why this name had been
given to the only place in the cemetery,
where Death was not present and where
living creatures existed.
As I had feared, Miss Hartley disap
proved of the change I ha 1 made in my
lodgings. I recited all Ih) advantages
to be derived from it, but she could not
be convinced of th: advisability of such
a move.
“Your sexton is not the only respect
able person who takes charge of lodges,”
she insisted, when I gave his good char
acter as one of the reasons why I had en
tered his house. ‘'There are other land
lords as reputable as he.”
“I do not and epute that,” I answered.
“But are there other landlords whose
homes arc as well kept and whose terms
are so moderate? This man lives in a
graveyard, Edith, and he knows there is
a popular prejudice again tsuch a habi
tation as his. He realizes that his rooms
must consequently briDg low prices. I
am not afraid of graves or ghosts, and I
mean to profit by the unpopularity of his
house.”
“Ateyott quite sure you arc not afraid
of ghosts she asked, with true femi
nine persistency. “It is quite ersv, in
this cheerful room and in a house filled
with,living people, to believe we arc
without superstition. But will it be so
easy, Herbert, in an almost deserted
dwelling that is apart from all other
human habitations, and that is surround
ed by graves? There are dismal stories
told of that cemetery, and of the spirits
hovering about it. We don't believe in
them, and we laugh ut them here. But
will they appear so ridiculous to you
when you arc in that dreary place? May
they not occur to you unpleasantly when
you are alone some night, and have noth
ing to look ut but those melancholy
graves?”
I laughed st her questions.
“I am quite certain that I will not be
troubled by any fears or imaginings,” I
told her. “I menu to speed my evening*
in work and study, and my nights in
sleep. I have no time to think of death,
or of anything alto that is gloomy sad
uswelcomt. 1 tbsll think of li/a—of tho
life I am going to live'with you—of the
life that shall well be worth the living.”
For a time the said r.o more about
“Death's l odge.’’but I noticed that she
was nervous, and wanted me to leave her
at an early hour. When I asked her
bar.tcringly if she was already tired of
my society, she confessed that she
dreaded having me enter the cemetery
after dark. There was nothing heroic
about my little girl. Nclhing k-ss than
a miracle would have mdtffea her to en
ter the cemetery at nightl
_ Occasionally she had cuffed it by day
light, and had been inti-TeftcAan ono por
tion of it that was owned by the Hol'aud
ers in our town. When they juried, a
child there they laid his Wft upon his
grave, and it is supposed tfitTOY occa
sioiia ly left his melancbolyfcsfing place
and came upon earth a6d*hußed him
self with these plaything' 5 * that were
placed-like offerings before as'hrine. One
or two of the Dutch setttos asserted
positively that at midiraty on moon
light nights, a group of jgjje Holland
ghosts ventured out of tajpKgravee and
iii-l’.-lu' and in all sorts of pieaSwg pAetknes.
Ethel referred to this superfttitiotis belief
rather shamfacedly,
“I don't suppose that yeu’H ever see a
ghost, Herbert,” she said ‘hint you may
imagine that you see one, ind that will
be quite as bad. If you Me a white dog
in the distance, you may finagine that it
is some little Hollander siting, upon his
grave and playing at munilety-peg.”
She was smiling now, blit I could see
that her eyes looked troubled. I fancied
that she wished I v as safety atliome.
‘-Twill take myself off;” I said, “al
though I can see no enuke for haste
When you want to frighten menway you
must produce a ghost of my own size, for
1 don’t mean to be terrified by any num
ber of little Hollanders nor their game of
mumblety-peg.”
I took her in ray arms then, and bade
her good-night.
“Don’t find fault with my lpndgings,’’
I told her. “They are going to help us
Err cure a home, and afterward we will
e too happy to think of anything that
is unwholesome and uncanny.”
* * * * * *
Months rolled bv, and I took consider
able credit to myself because I had not
been rendered uncomfortable by my
dreary surroundings. My .appetite was
good—to that the sexton’s wife could
testify—l slept extremely well, Kid later
than had been my custom. The intense
morning quiet in the cemetery was' in
such great contract with the noise on the
street, that I found difficulty in getting
snake in time for breakfast. Besides per
fect quiet, there was another cause con
ducive to rest: my mind was easy about
my finances. My practice had ’greatly
increased,and my marriage was no longer
an indefinite prospect. Ethel ha% set the
day for our wedding,, and oik- hOSuAgres
in rcadiness'for us.
I had become convinced that f was not
a nervous or superstitiqus person, and
that all the ghostly talcs that had been
told mein childhoodhad been seed sown
upon stony ground Lately I had been
too much absorbed in mv plans and
prospects to care whether I lived in a
graveyard or in the Garden of Eden
On the evening preceding our wed
ding-day I stayed much later than usual
at Ethel's house, for wo had a great many
final preparations to make before we
bade good-bye to our old lives and be
gan t’.:e new. . When I talked of return
ing to “Death's Lodge” she shuddered.
“I thank heaven,” she said, “that this
is the last time you will ever enter that
dreary cemetery at night.”
“In spite of all your fears and proph
ecies,” I said, “no evil has befallen me
in the months of my residence there.
No wraiths or .ghosts have conde cended
to vi-it me,and even the little Hollanders
have given up jackstraws and mumblety
peg, and rc'fuse to appear.”
“You have never uttered a complaint
against the Lodge,” she said, “and I
ought to have a little grateful sentiment
toward it, since it has enabled us to be’
married sooner than would have been
jiossible if you had not gone there to
live. But, Herbert, how could any liv
ing creature grow sentimental over a
house that is called ‘Death's I odge’?”
I made no effort to answer the ques
tion. My thoughts were dwelling ten
derly upon the future (our future) that
would open to us on th* morrow. I
reminded her it wasthe last time I would
saygool-byc to Ethel E artley. To mor-1
row she would be Mr.-. Herbert Grant.
When I left her it was nearly nrdnight,
and the moonlight was as brilliant as if
November had arrived, instead of Sep
tember.
I took a short cut through the cem
etery, and my way lay thiough the part
that belonged to the Hollanders. It oc
curred to me that the hour was near
when they were said to appear. I
smiled At the thought, and trudged
bravely on through the" rank, overgrown
grass that was heavy with dew.
Continuing on my way, I notice 1 that
I was approaching a new-made grave,
and I wondered who had been buried
there. While I was wondering I wit
nessed a sight that al lost caused my
heart to cease beating. I saw ahead
rise slowly out of the grave and stop
above it. I stood motionless for a mo
ment, while my eyes were fixed upon
this object. . I could see that a ghastly
face was turned toward me. Then I for
got that I was not superstitious. I for
got that I had laughed at Ethel’s fears,
I forgot that I had been willing to face
any ghost of my sizothat could be. pro
duced. I f.rgot everything but the
staring countenance that arose from that
new-made grave. I had always been
counted a strong man and courageous,
but I confess that on this occasion I was
very weak. I did not wait, tj^interview
the apparition. I turned lilSra coward,
and ran from it with all the blind fleet
ness of fear.’
Iliad not run far when I was brought
to a full and sudden stop. I had run
against a tombstone with such violence
that I was thrown backward upon the
ground. I sprang to my feet, although
I was bruised-from my fall, and looked
back to see what had become of the ap
piration. It was not In sight. 1 could
sec the newly filled grave distinctly in
the moonlight, nod it Appeared undis
turbed >'o disheveled head prptmded
from it, and no haggard face contem
plated me fr m its ghnstly dentin.
For some minutes I stood thinking of
what I had seen, and we* undecided
whether to advance or to retrace my
step*. I (onfus that I we* templed to
laavethegruvcynrd to sleep tli it uight at
the 'ilh'ge ion. But upon reflection I
decided that this would be a fooU*b
proceeding. I hod still mot effects at
the Lodge, which I would have to pack
and carry with me on the morrow.
I thought of making a wide detour
around the new grave, but I did not like
to be driven outof my path by an iurangi
ble tiling tl at I did not understand. " I
began to have a suspicion that I w tha
victim of a practical joke,or of an optical
delusion. I resolved to continue in my
former path, and |o force myself to- }ss
very close lsy the new grave. I further
Fwould never toll LCEjI
that hsr prophecies concerning my
superstintJn had come true.
I fixed my eyes upon the grave, sml
went slowly toward it. Evou after all
this deliberation my heart beat furiously,
and my head swam until I could scarcely
control my movements. My nerves’ were
most painfully alive to my-melancholy
surroundings. But I went forward until
I was within twenty paces of the grave.
Then I stopped, for Slowly and mysteri
ously rose up thftt horrible head that had
driven me back before. It dame, as be
fore, out ,of .thk grave. I saw its adien
countenance, its sunken eyes, its. wild,
disheveled hair, and I could not face it.
I turned and ran again, over graves and
stones and hedges, until again! fell. This
timo I stumbled over a Bpndo that the
sxton had doubtless dropped and for
gotten. When I regained my feet, I
lookpd back and saw the moonlight, the
rank, wet grass, and the now grave; but
the ghost, or man—whichever he might
be—was invisible. He had doubtles gone
down into his grave again, in the same
silent, weirdlike manner in which he had
risen from it.
Should I turn my back forever on this
uncanny place? Should I go to the inn
and send for my goods at • ‘Death’s Lodge. ”
trusting that thosexton’s good wife would
pack them? Should I leave everything
here, and encourage a fear that had twice
alreadv mastered mo?
After a time I thought I would go for
ward.
“If I do,” I thought, “I may yet find
an explanation of this mystery. If I
turn back, I will always bolieve that I
have seen a ghost.”
There was a carriage-track through
the cemetery that ran very close to the
grave from which the apparition hud ap
peared, and I resolved now to take this
in preference to walking over the grass,
as I had previously done. I had lost
confidence in myself, and thought it po >-
sible that I would run away ouco more,
if the apparition again appeared. I re
alized that the carriage road would afford
me less perilous footing. If I ran I would
bo in no danger of striking against grave
stones. ■
I took nnothcr precaution aguiust dan
ger. I picked up a stono anil curried it
with mo. It did not occur to mo then
that it would boa curious weapon to use
against a disembodied spirit.
.1 bad approached the grave befennrr
Its side, but my new course brought me
close to its foot. As I came very near, I
saw, what I hail not imagined before,
that a man was lying on the ground be
side the grave. He was on the opposite
sido frem thnt on which I had made my
former approach. As ho heard my foot
steps he arose to a sitting posture, his
head rising a little above the grave. I re
alized the situation at once. From my
former approach, I had been deceived into
supposing that his head arose from the
grave, when in rsality it appeared from
the side opposite tef which I had boju
standing. When’ I had run away, the
man had resum and his former reclining
position. I decided that he wa < not a
ghost, but some tramp who had wan
dered into the graveyard iu quest of a
quiet place to sleep.
I would have left him to resume h's
slumbers but for nn accident. As 1 started
to go I saw him cast his body across the
grave, while he uttered a cry thnt made
my blood turn chill. I knew by the
sound that he was insane, and I feared
he was dying. I ran into the house and
called the sexton. Wc two managed to
get the wretched creature into the Lodge.
We watched at his beds de until morn
ing, when he died. I learned that his
wife had been killed three days before
by being thrown from her horse, and the
shock of hearing Of her sudden doitli
had dethroned his reason. The unhappy
husband had stolen into the cemetery and
lain down to die beside her grave.
******
I have never told Ethel the story of ray
fright. At first our marriage and our in
terest in our new home put it out of my
mind. 1 ater, 1 did not wish to recall it,
but the wretched madman aroused all
the compassion in ray nature. Now that
I have written the story, she may read it,
and see how superstitious I once became.
—Franco B. Cura's.
Signs from the Sun.
Bigot of Bain, frim tie Sun. —Sun
rising dim or waterish; rising red with
bla kish l.eams mixed along with its
rays; rising in a musty or muddy color;
rising red and turning blackish; setting
under a thick cloud: setting with q red
sky. in the east. Sudden rains never Inst
long; but when the air grows thick by
degrees, and the sun, moon and stars
shine dimmer and dimmer, then it is
likely to rain six hours usually.
B'g it of Wind, from the Bun. —Sun
rising pale amFsetting red, with an iris;
rising large in surface; rising with a red
sky in the north; setting of a blood
color;-setting pale, with one or more
dark circles, or rc ompanied with red
streaks, seeming concave or hollow;
seeming divided, great storms; parmelja
or mock suns nevor appear but they are
followed by tempest.
Signs of Fair W,a‘hrr , from the Sun.—
Run rising clear, having set clear the
night b fore; rising while the clouds
about arc driving to the west; rising
with an iris about him, and that iris
wearing away equally on nil sides, then
exp ct fair and settled weather; rising
char and not hot; setting in red clouds,
according to the old ob ervat’on:
The evening red and morning gray,
Is the sure sign of a fair day.
* The Sea Serpent Again.
Ensign Selim E. Woodworth, U. S.
N., tells the Snn Francisco reporters that
a short time ago when the Banger was
off the coast of Costa Blca on a survey
ing trip th: lookout icportod a reef some
distance away. They drew near to sur
vey it and siw that the roof was a huge
serpent. The head was larger than a
miin's body, with large, piercing eyes.
The body was of a ulrty yellow color.
The serpent wu* u slow traveler and Iho
shi|i gamed on it, but it escape I in Ike
darkntss, not b forj several iuu ket ball*
bad been fired into U without apparent
•ftfet,
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
g f VARIOUS SOURCES.
Hu Wm an ApprentlceA Timely
Hint - Ilia Wish Reciprocated
- Wouldn’t Walk Half
Way-Tight Money .Etc.
Bagley— “Hello, Topley! Where are
you goifcg with that grip?”
Topley—“l’m going to Arizona.**
“Fight Indians?” g
“No, indeed. I am going there to
TO.
on those fellows down there, and after a
year or two you can come home and be a
doctor. Ta! tal”— Philadelphia Call.
A Timely Hint.
“I feci as if I were in heaven 1” said an
ardent admirer, who was slow in popping
the question, to a young lady.
“I wish you did,” was the rejoinder.
“Why, do you doubt my word?” re
proachfully.
—well—they say marriages are
m 1 >te in lieavyn,” she replied.
Bho wears an engagement ring now.—
New York Sun.
* His Wish Reciprocated.
“Do you know, Miss Cutter, said Mr.
Yorely, “that I have a predilection for
looking back?”
“Just like pa, when ho failed. He kept
looking back all tho time; he was so
afraid tho sheriff was after him.”
“No, 1 not you mistake mo. I mean
looking back into the past—reverting to
the days of our forefathers, a hundred
years ago. I sometimes whit I had lived
in those days.”
“I’m sure I wish you had, Mr. Yorely.”
Yonkers Qasctte.
Wouldn’t Walk Half Way.
“As Lake Shore passenger train No. 8
was pulling out of the Union depot the
other morning, an old farmer rushed out
of the restaurant and flew like a streak
until he caught the hand-rail of the rear
platform,” relates the Toledo Blade.
“He climbed on and entered the sleep
ing coach, but lie was told to go for
ward. Without n quostion he obeyed,
and was looking fur a seat in the next
sleeper when the porteroaid: ‘Uo further
forrud, suh, to the nex’ cah.’ He went
one car further to another sleeper, and
settled himself in a seat from which ho
was ugnin routed. He protested some,
but ho went, He stopped in the fourth
sleeper and was determined to find a
.sent. The sleeping car condu .tor came
in and said: ‘You’ll have to go into a
Jorwnrd our.kt- The granger rose on his
dignity and said: ‘-Now, you look here.
I bought a ticket to carry mo clean
through, to Buffalo, and I’m blamed if
I’m goiu’ to let you make me walk halt
tho way. By shucks, I’ve been walkin’
all the way from Toledo, and blamed if
you don’t wfcit me to walk clean to
Cleveland.’ A ter sonro ccxing the
farmer was induced to go into the day
coach next in front."
Tight Money.
At breakfast timo yesterday morning
one of Pittsburg’s best citizens looked
uneasy and suspicious. Finally he re
marked to his wife as he sampled a roll;
“Sleep well last night?”
“Yes, dear, fairly well."
“Didn’t find a man under the bed
when you looked for him last night?”
“No, dear.”
“And you didn’t heur any burglars
about the house?”
“Why, no, dear.”
“1 thought you didn’t,” ho replied,
with a sarcastic smile. “You didn’t
wake me up once to go down stairs to
chase them out. I’d like to know,
though, where that fivc-dollar gold piece,
those three silver dollars and those half
dollars and quarters I had in my pocket
last night when I went to bed have dis
appeared to.”
“I have them, my dear.”
‘ The deuce you hnvc!” he exclaimed,
astounded by tho openness of the confes
sion.
‘ “Yes, dear; I read in ths Dispatch that
money is tight in the East,and you know
it is just r.s likely to get tight here as
there, so I thought it best to take it away
from you.” —Pittsburg Dispatch.
A Lesson Lost.
11. M. Hoxie, of tho Missouri Pacific
Ilailway,• is noted in railway circles for
his proneness to give his inferiors good,
sound lectures on thp slightest provoca
tion. Hoxie is a haid worker, and all
who have sceir him know how round
shouldered he is. One day a brakeman
called on him with a letter request! for a
pass in his pocket, leaving the door wide
open as he entered the office, and wear
ing his hat on his head in true brakeman
man style. In a loud voice he called
out:
“Is lioxic in?”
At this the general manager looked up
from his (l sk and replied:
“Yes, sir, Mr. Hoxie is in.”
The brakeman took his letter out of his
pocket, grabbed the corner of the en
velope between h : s thumb and fore
finger, and sent the missive spinning and
whirling upon his snperior's desk. Hoxie
looked up in amazement, and said:
“Now, young man, would it not look
better for you, when coming into a gen
tleman’s office, and especially so when
asking a favor, to remove your hat, wipe
your feet, and inquire in a quiet voice:
•Is Mr. Hoxie in!’ ’’
The brakeman looked at the general
manager a moment, asked for his letter,
got it, went out, closed tho door, and in
a moment marched in again, closed the
door softly after, wiped his feet, put his
hat under his arm, and in the most polite
manner inquired:
“Is Mr. Iloxie, the general manager,
in?”
“I am Mr. Hoxio,” replied the general
manager; “what can Ida for you?"
“T on run go to the deuce, you round
shouldered crank I” tetorted the brake
man. “Ldou't want none of your favors
—l'm from Texas. ” (Jhicajo Herald.
Playing Hulislllute fur an Invalid
I luring the war übout twenty Confed-'
eratc uri-oners were at Fort McHenry,
stored away n a fodder loft under guard.
One morning Captain Ned Bridges was
playing au iunoeent game of card* when
the sick enll wa touu led —the signal for
ailing soldiers to report at the surgeon's
office and he examined.
“J-leutaßt,” wid Captsiß Oridgw,
OWE DOLLAR Par U Aivama
turning to a young soldier, “answer sick
call for me and let us finish this gar
Go dowu there und p rsonatc mera tR
the doctor you want another box
liver pills.” ‘
The obliging Lieutenant
it mi |i;ui 1 oil J v t’l ..tiler -o MS,
ok f the g lards. ’ ’ ; -0
lice. When then'*;
vaii<-t. ih —JBI
at
give me>
I want box, I another box
will fix me up affright.”
“Didn’t them pills cure you,’’asked the
Wekiug* over his spee
•‘No, but another box will fix me, I
think.”
“Well, well,” said the doctor half to
himself, “I’ll havo to change the treat
ment on you.”
Thereupon ho picked up a graduating
glass, and from various bottles mixed the
worst mess that mortal ever saw.
The Lieutenant shuddered.
When the villainous compound was
made up the doctor stirred it vigorously
and viciously, and handing it out, said:
“Drink that.”
The Lieutenant took hold of the glass.
Cold chills rnn up and dowu his spine.
“Doctor," he stammered, “I’d—l’d er
heap rutlier take the pills.”
“Drink it!" stormed tho doctor, and
in the excitement the medicine went
down the Lioutcnant’s throat.
When the Lieutenant returned to the
fodder loft he was very glum. When tho
game of cards grew monotonous, Captain
Bridges turned aud asked:
Lieutenant, git them pills?”
“Now!”
“Well,"said the Captain, “you needn’t
be so snappish about it. What did the
doctor say ?”
“He a aid he was going to change the
treatment on you, and if you don’t git
well it ain’t my fault, for I’ve taken the
nast iert dose for you tnat evor I saw 1"
A Plante of Cats.
The town is at prosont infested with a
plague of cats, wiltes Allred Trumblc in
the New York Nem. Jho streets after
dark look as if it had rained cats. The
poundmen take cpro that a similar illu
sion in regard m dogs does not prevail,
but Tabby’s worthlessness as a proy to
the hungry flood secures her immunity
from the persecution poor Tray falls the
hapless victim to. If Mr. Bcrgh’s prop
osition to set up a cat pound is not soon
adopted, wc shall find our highways per
ilous after dark, and have to pay visits
on the highways rifle in hand and with
accident insurance policies in our pock
ets. The trees of the public (arks will
be infested with wild cats, and they will
pounce upon the passer-by from garden
walls and assail him from areps and alley
ways. Down in the Fronch quarter they
keep the streets fairly clean of feline
prowlers, for they snare'them therefor
the purpose of securing their fur, which
they put to some use or other in a sump
tuary way. I notice also that an invent
ive framcmakcr has discovered a utility
for the immature grimalkin by stuffing
it and nailing it to n frame over whose
edge it peeps in what the ladies assure
mu is quite a cute and charming way in
deed. The next step in the way of ex
tinction will probably be marked by the
appearance of rabbit stew as a restaurant
dish. In France, where there is always
a lingering suspicion that cat and rabbit
ure synonymous terms w.ith the restaur
ateur, it is the custom to always serve
the head of a rabbit with a dish that pro
fesses to be composed of its flesh, hven
this is not regarded as positively insur
ing safety, since no one t nts the head,
and it can therefore be made to do duty
over again. In London there is an early
morning beverage known as saloop. It
is simply sassafras tea, served hot, and a
rabbit pie commonly goes with it. I
have tried the snloop, but never had
courage to test the pie. I had heard too
many weird tales of its origin. .The
London pieman would be in his glory
here just now. There is raw material
enough about our streets to stock him
fertile winter. If wo do not have a cat
pound let us have a pieman at any rate.
One or the other is a crying necessity.
Making Wooden Toothpicks. •
There are, I have been told, but three
toothpick factories in the United States.
One of them is located at Belmont, Alle
gany county, New York, just on the
edio of the town and near the banks ol
the Genesee river. The factory makes
two articles of commerce, toothpicks, as
already stated, and allumettes, or lamp
lighters. We started in the basement,
and after exploring tho engine room be
took ourselves to where the woodwork
was in its first stages. We found in this
second room piles of circular blocks of
wood about sixteen inches in diameter
by perhaps five in thickness. This wood
was “hard” and “soft” maple and pine.
These are put into a revolving machine
which strips them of their bark; they
are then sent up to the first floor. Here
they are put into another revolving
machine, which cuts them into fine strips,
which are then cut into the required
shape fbr toothpicks. The “picks” are
dropped out at one side while the refuss
falls from the other into a shaft and is
carried down to the basement and sub
sequently u edfor firing. Some are
round, some square. This little machine
which makes them appears simple
enough to the unitiated, but in reality is
quited complicate i. containing, we were
informed, several hundred knives.
These small articles of after dinner ser
vice are then taken up to the seiond
story, where they are kept in a heated
room until sufficiently dry for packing.—•
Hoches'er Union.
(Jeronimo, the Apache Chief.
•
Whatever his lineage, it is not less true
that Oemnimo is one of the most re
markable Indian commanders the nation
has ever known, (lifted with the cun
ning and ferocity of a savage beast, al
most void of human instincts, and skilled'
as a modern professional in the use of
arras, all i ombiue to make him a most
dreadful enemy. Addodto those peculiar
traits is hi* singular and almost unlimited
inffuenco over the people among whom he
has lived. II hu* command of English,
Spanish, and sove.al Indian dialects, and
ill military capacity mid the power to
u*e his resources he Umore than a match
for any of Ibe train'd s ‘ldler* who have
beou huutiug him for ywn.-s-.Sa/i fhti t
dm Cmmtm
NO. ST.