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OOLBKAK * KXBBY, Editor* tad Proprietors. VOL. XI. ELLIJAY COURIER PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY —BY— COLEMAN A KIRBY. Itf* Office in the Court Home 4^ GENERjOiRECTORY. Superior Court meets -3d Monday in May and 3d Monday in Ootober, COUNTY OFFICERS. J. 0. Allen, Ordinary, T. W, CraigOj Clerk Superior Court, H. M. Bramlett, Sheriff, J. H. Sharp, Tax Receiver, G. W. Gates, Tax Collector, Jaa. 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 COUBT. Hon. Thomas F. Greer, Judge. Meets 3d Monday in each month. Court of Ordinary meets first Monday in each month. TOWN COUNCIL. E. W. Coleman, Intendant. L. B. Greer, L. p/ cS? Jr. Commissioners. T. J. Long, 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. Mothodi'st Episcopal Church—Ever. Ist Saturday and Sunday, by Rev. R H. Robb; .. L • FRATERNAL record. Oak Bowery Lodge, No, 81, F. A. M., meets first Friday in each month. W. A. Cox, W. M. 4a B. Greer, S. W. W. F. Hipp, J. W. R. Z. Roberts, Treas. T. W. Craigo, Sec. W. W. Roberts, Tyler, T. B. Kirby, S. D. 11. 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. E.W.COLEMAN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, ELLIJAY, QA. Will praotice in Blue Ridgo Circuit, Count, Court Justice Court of Gilmer Count,. Legal business solicited. “Promptness" is our motco. DB. J. S. TANKERSLEY. Physician and Surgeon, Tenders bis professional services to the citi rens of Etlijay, Gilmer snd surrounding conn tics. All calls promptly attended to. Office upstairs over the firm of Cobb & Son. WFE WALDO THORNTON, D.D.S. DENTIST, Calhoun, Ga. Will 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 Baking the visit. Address as above. Tmav2l-li Young men Who wish a Thorough preparation for Business, will find superior advantages al MOORE’S BUSINESS UNIVERSITY ATLANTA GA. The largest and best Practical Business School in the South. oan enter at an, time. JB>*Send for circulars. WHITE PATH SPRINGS! —THE— Favorite and Popular Resort oj NORTH GEORGIA! la situated 6 miles north of Ellijay on the Marietta & North Georgia Bailroad. Accommodations complete, facilities for ease and comfort unexcelled, and the magnificent Mineial Springs is its chief attraction. For other particulars on board, etc., address, Mrs. W. F. Robertson, Ellijay, Ga. CENTRAL HOTEL! Ellijay, Georgia. In the special popular resort for commercial men and tonriata of all kind, and is the general honse for prompt attention, elegant rooms and are second to none, in this place. Reasonable rates. Mrs. ML Y. Teem will give her personal t -tention to gneats in the dining hall. 1-14 Mountain Viet Hotel! • ELLIJAY, QA. This Hotel ia now fitted up in eaeel lent order, and ia open for the rsceptiee of guests, under competent management. Every possible effort will be made Is moke the M—fin View the most papas lar Betel in lUtyoy. AwarrmnwiKn— M mnwAdSslaiamdw wMthoMl. hestfshaife. fMly THE ELLIJIPr COURIER FOR GOOD JOB PRINTING —GO TO THE— COURIER OFFICE. Pamphlets, Circulars, Bill Heads, % , Letter Heads, S' .* r Envelopes, Business Cards, * Posters, 4* And in fast everything in the Job Printing line neatly and cheaply ex ecuted at short notiee. SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. Give us a call. 3gS-stey Organ. 0-olidly Made. one Unrivaled. JJgJ-legant Finish. *jp-ears of Popularity. ILLCSrr.ATED CATALOGUES SENT TREE. Estey iDrgan i£o., Brattieboro,vt. Automatic Sewing Machine Cos. 72 Wart 23d Bt., New York, N.Y. _ J * We invite special *t- _ tention to our New Patext Acxohaxio Ten •W / JHP hob Machine, making /,Vk precisely thaaamaatitch TT AL.WW aa the Wilcox A Gibbs, ll tU■Ct* n<! yet, if not preferred th> wdcox & Gibb. Tension Ma chine, can be returned an, time within SOdaye ana men*, refunded. But what le more remarkable atill, we nerrr knew a woman willing to do her owe fauU, eewing on a shuttle machine after haviag triad our Hew Patent AUTOMATIC. Bren Shoe Manufacturers find it best suited tc their work—its elastic seams am more dnsabla Truly Antomatio Sewing Machines are feet superseding shuttle machines, and it la no nae to dany it. Truth ia might, and does prevail. Hksttla Machines hate seen their beet da, a. JbwJ Jaw fswmiimw /tu. —J ■PW VWWVMTt MrTVpVRMMI MRWRn Invalid*rolling chairs (RECUNINO)^AM and le&fs | iw ealjr ■ntiigtnttd reclining rahiag ohaue. luj Clair 0e H#w H*w*. Cm*. “A MAP or BUST LITB-ITB fluctuation.*? and its past coxczrxs. ELLIJAY. GA„ THURSDAY, JANUARY 6. 188? TO FAME. “Bright fairy of the morn, with flower* ar rayed Whose beauties to thy young pursuer seem Beyond the ecstasy of poet's dream— Shall I o’ertake thee, ere thy lustre fade? “Ripe glory of the noon, to dazzled eyes A pageant of delight and bower of gold, Dissolving into mirage maaMoki— Do I o’ertake thee, or mistake thy prize? “Dull shadow of the evening, gaunt and gray, At random thrown, beyond me, or above > And cold as memory in the arms oMova* Have I o’erta’en thee, but to cost awAy?” ‘No morn, or noon, or eve am I,” she said “But night, the depth of night behind the sun; By all mankind pursued, but never won, Until my shadow falls upon a shade. ” — Harper's Magazine THE PAWNED WATCH. BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS. “Taking the line .3, 4 as the base, I” David Kershaw's eyes wandered from the book to the window. There was nothing to be seen there but a red brick walkabout three feet.distant. Then they traveled wearily over the walls of his room, with their soiled red and yellow paper, the bare floor, the cheap pine tablo piled with books, the cot-bed in the corner. “If one had even a fire or a stove!” he muttered, kicking at the black grating of the register, through which a feeble supply of warm air crept into the room. lie took up his book, sorowling impa “lfl takes, 4 as the base” and again the book dropped on his knee. “Four years of this! Four years of let ter solitude! You’ve taken too big a contract, Dave! You can’t go through with it 1” and he fell to staring gloomily at tho bricks outside of the window. David Kershaw was a country boy, used to a free, out-door life, to a big house, with roaring fires, and to a large, gay family of young people He had been working for years for the money to carry him through college, and had came up to begin his (o irse threomonths ago. He had not ah .acquaintance in the great city. He rented this attic room, bought his dinner for teu or fifteen cents nt a cheap eating-house, and atecrackers and cheese for’breakfast and supper. His clothes were CDrirse and ill-fitting, and he was painfully conscious of it, and held himself haughtily aloof from his fellow students. College lads are not apt to break through !u>y-g)iell of pride and sul 'iMfrWD' td-viiia tin-aiwa trerrcatli. They simply let David alone, with a care less indifference more g a iij n g than dis like. - He plodded silently from the college to his bare room, afod thence to the mis erable eating-house day after day. Being naturally a genial, friendly fel-. low, the thought of the four long, lonely years to come sickened him. lie threw up the window presently, aruLput hia head out tfteatch a glimpse 0< the street into which the alley opened. A-young man on horseback passed at the moment. It was Jourdan Mitchener, one of his cla-s. Ho rode a blooded mare, and was fully equipped in cordu roy coat and knickerbockers, cream-col ored leg .sings, and gauntlets. ‘‘A regular swell!” thought Kershaw, laughing good-humoredly. He had no ticed this Croesus of the college before. “He has a good, strong face. Well, luck’s unevenly divided in this world!” taking up his book with a sigh. Half an hour later there was a knock at the door. David opened it, expect ing to see his landlady, but there stood Mitchener, smiling, whip in hand. “Mr. Kershaw?” lifting his hat. “Ashamed not to have known you be fore, but there are such a lot of us fel lows, you know.' Thanks, yes,” taking a chair. “My mother saw your name in a catalogue, and sent me to tell you that your mother and ahe were school mates and friends, ‘Daisy’ and ‘Lily’— that sort of. thing, I believe. My mother married a city man, and for that reason, during the years that have passed, has lost sight of her old schoolmates who lived away from the city.” “And my mother married a farmer, and has been poor all of her life,” inter rupted David, morosely. “Yes, yes. American life!_ Up to-day and down to-morrow,” carelessly. Something in Mitchener’s manner made his wealth and David’s poverty appear paltry accidents, to which they, as men, were loftily superior. Before they had been together ten minutes, David felt his morbid gloom disappear. He began to talk naturally and laugh heartily. “This Mitchener was a thorough good fellow,” he wrote home that night. “Was not conscious, apparently, that he was worth a dollar.” The troth was that Jourdan fully ap preciated the value of his father's great wealth, but he was a well-bred and cour teous young fellow, and knew how tor put a poor and awkward lad at ease. Kershaw was invited to dinner at Mrs. Mitchener’s on Sunday. He went about the next this dinner in a daze of delight, a, if he had been passing through a golden mist, and had brought some of it still clinging to him. He hummed a tune, as he pored over his problems. He did not see the'bare floor and hideous wall-paper, but the beauti ful home in which he had been treated ftß an honored geest. The Persian car pets, the statuary, the table brilliant with flowers and siher,*even the delicious fla vors of the dishes lingered gratefully on his long-starved palate. He had met, too, women more charming and men more gent!y-bred than any he had ever known before. What a world they lived in! He was even yet bewildered by his glimpse into it. Every luxury and delight waited on the lifting of their hand :. Libraries, galleries of art, operas, balls, voyages to Europe, to the Nile! This was life! He wanted more of it— more of it. Mrs. Mitchner had asked him to cone often: had ollerod to introduce him to her friends, “a guy young set,” she said. He walked up and down the room, flushed and panting. lie had never dreamed of such a world! He must see more of ft! How stale and dull the Latin and m dliemato a seemed now’ But how to <outpu*s Itf He could not fO •gain without • dress-iuit. lie bed seen one that da; is a second-hand shop, very cheap. His blood grew hot at the idea of wearing some other man’s cast-off clothes, but ho pushed that thought saide. How could he 'else the money ? He drew out his watch. It was a gold one, the one luxurious possession in the fam ily. His father had solemnly given it to him when he left home, saying: “It was my father's. I’ve kept it in any bureau drawer for twenty years. Take it, David. ‘You’re goin’ out into the world. Y'ou’l: never disgrace it, my boy.” Remembering the old man’s face aa he said this, Darid thrust it back into his pocket. ►' “what a snob-1 am! To pavt with daddy’s watch for a suit of old clothes But the next moment he thought that he could pawn it. He would soon have it back. Save the money, or earn it— somehow. It was not as if he were yielding to a vicious temptation-*? the towa—gambling or drinking. The society of these high bred people would elevate, educate him. There was a tap at the door, and Mitch ener came in. “No, can’t sit down; I’m in a hurry. Brought a message from my mother. She would like to have you join an opera party to night. "Eight or ten young people. Meet at cur house, box at the opera, and back to supper afterward. You’ll come? That’s right. Good morning!” No! no! Stay! Mr. Mitehener I” His common-sense suddenly rose strong and clear. “I ought not to begin this life. , It’s your life, not mine. I'm a poor man. I have four years of hard work here be fore me, and after that my living to earn. Even the hour at your house yesterday ruined me for study to-day.” “Weill well!”said Jourdan,carelessly. “Don’t be so vehement about it. Going once to the opera will not make you a man of fashion for life. Think it over, and come. Give the college the go-by for a'day. “Oh, by the way!” he added, coloring a little. “Can Ibe of pecuniary service to you, Kershaw? No, don’t be offended. I have more of the filthy lucre than I know what to do with. The fact is, I was just going to buy a terrier that I don’t want. Now, if I could lend the money to you, it would be a real pleasure tomfl.” “Thank you!” Kershaw stammered, touched, yet angry. “I do not need any money. I have everything I need— clothes and all,” he added, with a gulp. ! “Now Imb in -for it!” he groaned, when. Mitehener was gone. “If I don’t go to their party, they’ll think I had no 1 clothes fit to wear. The watch has to g° ! ” Va *1 v He paced the floor, one minute blaming himself for a snob,’the next thrilled with delight at the thought of the evening’s pleasure. His brioks lay neglected all aay. He ecmldtiror qifet the raging whirl and confusion in his mind enough to think of study. He decided on nothing until nearly dark, when he rushed out, pawned the watch for one-fourth its value, arid boughtthe evening suit. There was not money enough left to buy the shoes, j gloves, etc., necessary to complete the dress. When he was ready to ’go, even hislnexperienced eye could see that his costume did not set on him as if it were made for him. Rut what matter? His friends—his welcome—the music. Who would care what clothes he wore? Arrived at Mrs.Mitchener’a, he did not find himself at all at ease. That lady was quite occupied with her duties as hostess, and received him with careless 1 civilty, giving her attention to her other guests. They talked of people and things of which ho knew nothing. The tall, awkward lad, his hair carefully oiled and parted, his red hands protruding from his short coat-sleeves, sat silent, and felt thoroughly miserable and out of place. Now and then ho thought he saw one of the dainty women near by scanning him with furtive glances. They drove to the opera-house and en tered one of the proscenium boxes. Davd had a seat at the back, where he could catch but an occasional glimpse of the stage and the brilliant audience. He had been the leader of the choir at home, and fond of the waltzes and marches which his sister played on the old piano, and fancied himself a connoisseur in music. But he was not educated to un derstand this music. Avery pretty, flighty young lady, Mrs. Bellew, who was the chaperone of the party, tried politely to make him talk to her, but in vain. She turned to Jourdan at last with a shrug of her bare shoul ders. “Your friend,’’she whispered, “seems to be absorbed by his own thoughts. He does not look as if he were enjoying himself. Who is he?” “One of my mother’s last hobbies; a student in the college from the coun try, ’’ he replied, in the same tone. They turned to the stage. Kershaw saw their smiles, and knew they were talking of him. His brain was on fire. Why had he come here? Was he not the equal of these dainty folk, as well-born, as virtuous, as clever, as they? They dared to despise him became he was awkward and ill-dressed: In his embarrassment and misery he thrust his hand into the breast-pocket of his coat, and drew out a little painted paper tablet, which he fingered mechan ically, scarcely noticing what it was un til he saw Mrs. Bellew’s eyes fixed on it witn amazement and suspicion. When the curtain fell on the first act. she came W-k to him, making some incoherent remarks about the play, while she looked at him keenly. Suddenly she grew pale, and interrupting herself in the middle of a sentence, said to Kershaw; ‘. ‘Will you be good enough at the close of the next act to go with me and Mr. Mitchener into the anteroom? I would like to speak with you.” When they had reached the anteroom at the close of the act, she said: “I have a most disagreeable question to ask, Mr. Kershaw. Our house was robbed by burglars last Monday, aad silver and jew ■m. Among of my hus rs. Bellew?” e dress suit n,excitedly, refore it was he put my it, in one y ruby ring, glove. Mr, | Kershaw Iwm the tablet in bis pocket” Kershaw mechanically thrust his hand into the pocket of the coat, and brought out the tablet and a second later the ring, which had caught in the lining and so escaped the notice of the thief. He silently held them out to her. The power of speech and action seemed to be frozen out of him with horror. Mitehener looked at him excitedly, but said, politely: “Have you any objections to telling Mrs. Bellow how the suit came in your possession?” KeYshaw stared at him a moment, full of repugnance and contempt for himself. These were “his new friends!” this was the party he had parted with his old father’s gift to enter! “I did not, of course, steal the clothes,” he said at last. “You cannot really think I did that. But I bought them at a pawn shop to-day. 1 pawned my watch to do it. I wanted to come here.” “All jight! all right!” interposed Mitehener, soothingly. “You can send Mr. Ytellew the name of the pawnbroker and ho will recover his silver and jew elry. Mrs. Bellew, the curtain is up.” She fluttered softlv b*ck to her seat, ar ranging her airy draperies and flowers, and glanced meaningly at young Mitch ener, as If to express disgust for the poor wreteh who had bought cast-off clothes to thrust himself in among peo ple whom he regarded ns his superiors. David saw it all, and rose from his seat panting and trembling. “Sit. down! Sit down!, Kershaw!” said Mitehener, putting his hand on his shoulder. David shook it off. “No; I’ve been a fool, but I’Te dona with it all now. I’ll send back the clothes—” “Ohno!”aaid Mrs Bellew, looking back with a supercilious smile. “Pray keep them.” David left the box, and rushing home, stunned with rage and shame, tore off the stolen clothes and carried them to Mr. Bellew’s house. The next day Mitcl)6ner, who had a good deal of kind ness and tact, arranged the matter. The pawnbroker, who was a receiver of stolen goods, was forced to give up the plate, jewelry and David’s watch. The thieves were discovered and punished. Mrs. Mitehener, still loyal to her old friend, sent David an invitation to a ball tho next week. He declined it. ‘,‘l have made a mistake,” he told Jourdan, “but I will not do It again. My path in life is straight before me. With God’s help. I willJmepin .it.” His Ditter humiliation hft ! d taught him juster views of life. As time passed, he mo4e4rieads among the other students, clever,, unpretentious young fellows, who, like himself, 'had their own way to make in life. His college days passed- quickly. Hp studied medicine, and returned to his nntiye town to practice. Twenty years afterward, Mr. Jourdan Mitehener, passing through this town, now one of the mo6t important cities in -P<Umsylvanuu4M>nac’ iir!dsaLy..ilV-**- was attended for several weeks by Dr. Kershaw. He hoard from others of the high position held by the physician in the commodity; not only as the head of his profession, but as an influential citi zen, foremost in every good work, the founder of asylums, while h : s family were the centre of the most cultured circle in tho city. ’ Mitehener had married a very wealthy woman, and had continued to live only in pursuit of fashionable amusement. “And what linvo I gained by it?” he thought, bittcriy. “If I were to die to morrow. I should be remembered only ns the man who kept the best FrenT-h cook in New York.” “You were right,” he said to the doc tor when he came that afternoon. “You were right to keep to your own straight, honorable path, and refuse to ape fashion." “I tried it once, you remember,”.said the doctor, smiling. “The most for tunate event of my life was my humilia tion about my pawned watch. It was a bitter dose, but it cured me effectually. Every tick of this old watch since”— drawing it out —“has said to me: ‘Don’t be a snob. Keep steadily on your own path.’ 1 owe much to Mrs. Bellew. Her treatment of me and my foolish act turned me back from the wrong road. It would have made my life a failure.’’— Youth'i Companion. Transforming Shakespeare’s Sayings. All the simple proverbs used in our every-day work and life are drawn from Shakespeare. A few of them are: . Shakespeare: The sun snifies hot, and if we use delay Cold-biting winter mars our hoped-for hay. Modern form: Make bay while the sun shines. Shakespeare. What fates impose, that men most needs abide, It boots not to resist both wind and tide. Modern form: Wind and tide wait for no man. (Shakespeare: ’Tis the more honor, because more dangerous. Modern form.- The place of honor is the post of danger. Shakespeare: I will arm me, being thus forewarned. Modern form: Forewarned, forearmed Shakespeare: Both of you are birds of self-same feather. Modern form: Birds of a feather flock to gether. Shakespeare: Strike now or else the iron cools. * Modern form: Strike while the iron is hot. Shakespeare: “That would be a ten days’ wonder at the least, That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.” Modem form: A nine days’ wonder. Shakespeare: The common people swarm like summer flies. Mo !ern form: Swarm like flies. Shakespeare: And I forgive and quite forget old faults. Modern form: Forgive and forget The Mysterious Sphinx. The Sphinx Occupies a position where the encroachment of the desert is most conspicuous At the present day nothing is to be seen of the animal except its head and its the old Egyptian moniuimnts on which it is figured show not only the entire body down to the paws, but also a large square plinth be neath covered with ornuments. Since the time of the Greeks, perhaps even since the reign of Thothmos I V. , this plinth has disappeared beneath the sand, and its very existence had been forgot ten. It is generally supposed that the Sphinx is hewn out of a large isolated rock, which overlooked the plain. But M. Maspero’s recent researches suggest that it is a work yet more stupendous. He has proved that the Sphinx occupies the centre of an amphitheatre, forming a kind of rocky hasiu, the upper rim ol which is about on a level with the head of the animal. The walls of this utnphi theatre, wherever visible, sre cut by th hand of uau „ , ' BUDGET OF FUN. HUMOBOUB SKETCHES FROM VARIOUS SOU RGBS. Greater than Herrmann—A Saving Philosopher—He was an Kxt 1- inator—Rico nt the Fair lie Didn’t Jump, Etc. “That Parisian trick—the Vanishing Lady—that Herrmann do|g is a great one,” said Jones. “He covers a lady with a veil,fend after a little manoeuvring removes the veil, and the lady .has dis appeared.” “That’s nothing to a young lady in our boarding house,” answered Brown. “I have seen ten or twelve persons in the parlor, aDd this young lady come in, sit down to the piauo, and begin to play and sing. In two minutes all the rest had disappeared. Talk about Herrmann! He ain't a patch to her.” —New Tori Hun A Savins Philosopher. Wandering phisosophor—“Yes, my dear sir, I’ve reckoned up that by walk ing down town to my business every day I have saved S3OO in the last ten years.” Indifferent fellow (who always rides) — “And your health is better, too?” Philosopher—“Oh,’much better." , Indifferent fellow—“ Well, l am out that much. Good day! ” Philosopher—“ Ah—by the way could you lend me $5 for a few days?”— New York Graphic. • He was an Estimator. “What’s all this crowd doing here?” asked a stranger, as he found the pave ment blockaded in front of a Broadway store. “Why,” replied a bystander, “the proprietor offers a prize for the closest guess as to the number of beans iu that bottle.” “How arc the guoses ruuning?” “From 000 up to 15,000.” “Oh, pshawl Why, there must be at least 100,000 bennß in that bottle.” “Where might you be from, stranger? ? “I? Oh, I’m from the West. I’ve been out there estimating the population of cities from the number of names in the directories. ” Tid-Bite. Rice at the Fair. Everybody, almost, knows what a wide-out short-up figure Billy Rice, the minstrel, has. Well, about two weeks ago (at least so we arc informed) Billy was at an agricultural show in a one- Kt-stund town, and ps he stood in- a ffhtful attitudo contemplating the exlAum, the editor of the county paper and n farmer passed by. “Look there,” whispered the editor, ‘that’s llice.” “WhAefl’ inquired the farther. —•“tHtt)Tg, u - .gating to., ward William. “Rice?” repeated the farmer inquir ing^- “Yes.” “Well, by gosh, it’s the funniest rice I ever seen. It looks a blame sight more like a punkin. Lo’s go an’ take a look at it.” Billy met the farmer half way and paralyzed him.— Washington, Critic. Ho Didn't tTuinp. Sunday afternoon a man suddenly ap peared nt a three-story window in an un finished building on Grand River street and seemed to begin preparations to commit suicide by leaping to the pave ment. A crowd of forty or fifty people speedily gathered in a half-circle below, and although all seemed to be aware of what was going on not a voice was raised to .prevent the stranger carrying out Ilia designs. He removed his coat and looked down as if estimating the distance. Then he removed his vest and looked down again. Some of the crowd asked each other in low tones if his intention was to jump, and were an swered that there wns no doubt of it. The man removed his collar and tie after his vest, and then Bpit on his hands and took his position square in the window. No one below moved a foot. There was half a minute of silence, during which everybody mentally calculated on the exact spot he would strike, and some thing like a shudder passed over the crowd. Then the unknown spit on his hands once more, raised them above his head, and calmly remarked: “My friends,this is to inform you that 1 shall occupy this buildiDg November 1 with a large and well selected stock of staple and fancy groceries. I shall do a strictly cash business, and it will be my aim to ” But the last one bad turned the corner. —Detroit Free Press. The Fatal Folding Bed. An expression of profound gloom on the face of a friend led to inquiries which elicited a talc of sorrow and suffering. “Do I look mournful?” he asked. “Do I bear the appearance of a man whose soul has been entered by the iron of ad versity? AVell, that’s the way I feel. “You know, I moved day before yes terday. Well, hurt by the unfeeling re marks of my late landlady and the fact that she retained my trunk (as a gage d’amour, I suppose) I sought the seclu sion of a West Side boarding house. The room is pleisnnt and the man who occu pies the'other half a very nice fellow. Night before last I went home early, and when ready my new chum boldly ap proached an innocent-looking piece of furniture, and after a little sparing for time let in with right and left and brought to view a comfortable bed. I had never seen a folding-bed before, and was a little astonished. However, I made no remarks but turned in. Last night my chum was out, and I didn't know what to do. I loafed around the room, now and then casting a glance at the folded bed and admiring its compactness and air of gentility, but somehow I did not feel like tackling it all by myself. But it had to be done. 1 remembered that my cl.um had first lifted the top. 1 did that. But when 1 let go it came back with a slam that started the baby owned by tbe second floor front into n wild symphony of woe. Then I sat down and thought. To gain time on the bed I undressed. Hay, did it strike you as chilly last night? No? AVell. it was. Indeed, It- was cold. The combination of that fact and my abbre viated costume urged me to renew tbe attack. Thlf time I pushed the top past the center of tire spring, and when re leased it went on with a noise loud enough to arouse tbe pug in tbe room OWB DOLLAR Per Ammmm, h llimi across the hall. By that time I was reck less. I seized a strap and pulled. The whole thing began to come. I strapped it half way and considered. Considering was bard work. Po was holding. I nulled. It came, and I went. But I didn’t go far enough, and the bed canght me. 1 was underneath. The Charleston man on the floor below dreamed he was at home. “Well, when I got out and took an in ventory, I was minhs considerable akin, but the accession of my eyebrow bal anced things. The bed was open, but the middle was way below the average. But I was too impatient to be particular. With considerable emphasis I turned, oat the gas and rolled in. As aeon as I hit the bed it shut up—that is, as close as it could. It was close enough. For atxmt ten minutes I would have swapped places with any one of the seven anar chists and given him odds. When I got out of that place there was not enough left of the bed-clothes to make a respect able bandage. I know, because I tried it. What I suffered yoa will never know. “This morning the landlady informed me, that had she known I was subject to delirium tremens, she would have re fused the admittance that gave me a chance to ruin the reputation of her boarding house. As I left the house the boarders posed their heads out and whis pered : ‘That’s him; he had ’em bad last night,’ and similar encouraging remarks. —New York Newt. Mother Goose. Mother Goose's maiden name was Elisabeth Foster. She was born in Charlestown, Mass., in 1635,’and married Isaac Goose, of Boston, in 1603. She was his second mate, and began her ma ternal life a stepmother to ten children. She added six more to that number. Think of it 1, Sixteen gosling to a single goose] Is it any wonder fliat she poured out her feelings in the celebrated lines: "There was an old woman, who lived in a shoe, She had so many children the didn’t know Whattodol” Yet her family cares sat, upon her and she survived Fairier GoosVmany years. Still, she stayed by hif nest and fed her flock until they were able toswim By themselves. Oqe of her daughters married Thomas Fleet, a printer by trade, with whom Bho went to live and insisted on being a nurse to his children, and there she lived and sang from morning until'night: ‘‘Up stairs and down stairs, And in my Judy’s chamber.” Thomas Fleet, sold sopgs and ballads at hit printing office, arid one day a happy thought struck him. So,-while she sat in her arm-chair or shuffled about the house lost in sweet dreams, he care fully wrote down what lie could of her rhymes which fell from her lips. Soon -lift hud turnnoh b vAS-f-C ,AJ£>A umc - These Tie now printed Alia sold nnaer the tlt’o of “Mother Goose Melodies for Chil dren. T. Fleet, Printer. Pudding Lane, 1711). Price, two coppers.” The Kev. J. M. Manning, D. D., formerly pastor of the Old South Church, Boston, at a festival not many years ritjee spoke very truly, to my mind, when he said: “Not Homer or Shakespeare is so sure of im mortal fame a* Mother Goose. Consid ering the love iuphich her melodies everywhere freedom from any thing which might corrupt or mislead the infantile mind, their practical-wis dsm, their shrewd mystery and motives of human conduct, one is in all soberness forced to admit that her name is among the the jewels which adorn the brow of the Old South. Let us hop# that the day is not far distant when a memorial statue will be erected to this venerable old lady in one of the parks or squares of Boston.” Lewislon {Me.) Journal. Capital Punishment In China. In China, writes a Chinaman in the Columbia Jurist, capital punishment often depends upon the whim of the officer of the law. Here is an instance: Fen Ta Ren, the Rear Admiral of the Yangtze district, was passing up that river and chanced to overhear a quarrel between a boatmen and a soldier over the matter of two cash—the price ef ferriage across a small stream. The Admial took in the situation. The soldier had been ferried over the stream, and then refused to pay the poor ferryman. There was a principle involved. A large number of soldieis were looking on and apparently enjoying the ferryman’s rago at the loss of his wages. An example was needed, and the “Croat Man,” as his name signifies, who was incognito, being on a tour of personal inspection, ordered the soldier beheaded, which was done on the spot. Willful murder, piracy and confirmed thieves fall under the beheadsman ax. Infanticide, however, is not included aa murder. The parent, by Chinese law, has the right of life over his own child; hence the practice of female infanticide. - * Capital punishment can be met by proxy and the law be satisfied. It is uncommon, therefore, when a man of money is sentenced to death that he can, by the use of money, secure a stay of proceedings long enough to obtain a sub stitute. T his is done by making an offer of one, two or more hundred “taels” ounces of silver, about 1881 cents, our standard) for a substitute. Some impe cunious family, often having 200 or 800 members, as the patriarchal plan of do mestic economy prevails, will agree a nong themselves that they will furnish a substitute for the proffered sum. Lot is then cast to determine the victim, and the doomed man accepts his fate with stoical indifference upon-Ahe ultra pre destination theory that bis time has come, else the lot would not have fallen to him individually. He accordingly presents himself to the court, and the convicted man dies by proxy, while the family of the deceased enjoy the proceeds of the arrangement. It is the most humiliating of our conti nental disgraces that a man can steal $.■(00,000 in the United States and be protected from punishment by the Cana dian government. And it is a sad com mentary on our civilization that the two greatest nations of the earth can not agree upon a plan of extradition which shall not be in favor of thieves and ras cals.— Chicago News. ('harleston has hail eight earthquakes since ita settlement in iBO. The first was In (Tut and t*e last before the re ent destructive oe was in I*3*. None were attended with loss of life or, ex cepting that In mil, with damage to property. M . NO. 43.