Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

WALTER 8. COI.EXAN, Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XII. ellijay courier. PUBLISHED EVEBT THC3SDAY —BT— WALTER S. COLEMAN. GENERALDIRECTORY. Superior Court meets 3d Monday in May and 2nd Monday in October. COUNTY OFFICERS. J. C. Allen, Ordinary. T. W. Craigo, Clerk Superior Court. M. L. Cox, Sheriff. J. R. Kinciad, Tax Collector. Locke Langley, Tax Receiver. Jas. M. West, Surveyor. O. W. Rice, Coroner. Court of Ordinary meets Ist Monday in each month. Town COUNCIL. E. W. Coleman, Intendant. L. B. Greer, J.' fcSfjr. Commissioners. T. J. Long, J W. FT. Foster, Marshal. RELIGIOUS SERVICES. Methodist Episcopal Church South— Every 3d Sunday and Saturday before. G. W. Griner. Baptist Church—Every 2nd an 1 Sunday, by Rev. E. B. Shope. Methodist Episcopal Churcli—Every Ist Saturday and Sunday, by Rev. T. G. Chase. FRATERNAL RECORD. Oak Bowery Lodge, No. 81, F. A. M., meets Ist Friday in each month. L. B. Greer, W. M. T. H. Tabor, S. W. J. W. Hipp, J. W. R. Z. Roberts, Treasurer. 1). Garren.S ecretary. W. S. Coleman, S. D. W. C. AlleD, J. D. S. Garren, Tyler. R. T. PICKENS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, ELLIJAY, GEORGIA. Will practice in all the conrts of Gil mer and adjoining counties. Estates and interest in land a specialty. Prompt attention given to all collections. - _ 10-21-85 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, GA. Will practice in Buo Ridge Circuit, Countj Court Juetice Court of Gilmer County. Legal bauineei solicited. “Promptueu” ie our motto. DR. J. S. TANKERSLEV. Physician and Surgeon, Tend"re hie professional serricea to thi jt i sens of Ellijay, Gilmer and surrounding oom ties. All calls promptly attended to. Otfics upstairs over the firm of Cobb A Son. RIFE WALDO THORNTON, D.D.B. DENTIST, Calhoun, Ga. Will visit Ellijay and Morganton at both the Spring and Fail term 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. Tmavll-la ’WHITE PATH SPRINGS! —THE— Favorite and Popular Besort oj NORTH GEORGIA !, Is situated 6 miles north of Ellijay on the Marietta & North Georgia Railroad. Accommodations complete, facilities fox ease and comfort unexcelled, and the magnificent Mineral Springs is its chief attraction. For other particulars on board, etc., address, Mbs. W. F. Robertson, Ellijay, Ga FOE GOOD - 108 PRINTING —GO TO THE— ELLIJAY COURIER. $25,000.00 IN GOLD! n ii.i. in: paid fob ARBUCKLES 1 COFFEE WRAPPERS. 1 Premium, • fc1,000.00 2 Premium*, $600.00 etch 6 Premium*, • $250 00 25 Premium*, • SIOO.OO 100 Premium*, * $60.00 J OO Premium*, • $20.00 , 1,000 Premium*, SIO.OO * fur full ptrtlwuUr* td dlruNwi j Ur m #vrr laO tn l of AMi'CSi.M* WflW, THE ELLIJAY COURIER. THANKSGIVING. O Thon, whose power the earth displays, Whose promises of lifs are ours, The springtime offered Thee her praise Amid the censers ofthe flowers. And now again, O Love Divine, A thousand vales the harvest fills; We seek thy house to-day, and join The eternal chorus of the hills. MEETING IN THE RAIN. A THANKSGIVING ROMANCE. On a gloomy evening in November a young lady was walking rapidly along the country road leading out of the little village of N . It was an isolated region, and she had met no one, except now and then a tired laborer returning from his short autumn day’s work, who gazed at her with some surprise, as he made her an uncouth salutation. For this young lady, Miss Violet Den nis by name, was very evidently not of this locality, as one saw at a glance. From the top of her little close walking hat to the tip of her dainty boot, she was as elegant and stylish as nature and art could make her. Her presence here just now was due to the fact tlist she hud lingered late at a country boarding house, where she had accompanied an invalid aunt, after the gay season of the watering places was over. This was the last evening of her stay at N , and she was now returning from the daily constitutional which she made a great point of. She was walking rapidly, for there was an imminent threatening of rain—already a few stray <rrops had fallen. Reflecting that she had neither waterproof nor umbrella, she begau to feel very apprehensive, and not without reason, for iu a few minutes more she found herself in the midst of a steady, settled downpour, which soon drenched her. She couldn't help laughing at the idea of her absurd appearance, and was plodding bravely on, when she suddenly become aware of a buggy approaching her. It contained one person only—a young gentleman, who had the air of a man of the world, and was dressed in the rough textured, well titling equipments suited toahunting expedition. The rain was coming down in torrents as he approached Miss Dennis, and he gave her a very bewildered gaze, and lifted his hat automatically as he passed. The next instant an expression of won der, doubt and surprise came into his face, and he abruptly turned his horse and came up to her side, springing from the buggy and addressing her with much earnestness. ‘‘Pray let me diive you to your desti nation,” lie said, baring his head to the rain and looking at her scrutinizingly. ...“Tlmuk you very much, but I don’t mind the rain,’’said Miss Dennis. “Be sides, lam half way there, and am al ready wet.” "Allow ,st, tlioughl have no right,” he saitf, with a manner that was extremely deferential, despite itshurry. “It is really the only thing to do.” Almost before she knew what she was doing, Violet found herself walking toward the buggy, and the next instant the young man had taken from it a man’s rubber coat, and was holding it out for her to put on. At thip Miss Dennis drew back, somewhat haughtily. She was Often called haughty by her friends, and sometimes laughed at by them because of it. “Oblige me by putting this on at once,” the young mitfi said, in a voice that had such an imperious ring that Violet actually surprised into com pliant. An instant more a .firm hand under her elbow had assisted her to her seat, and the young man had taken a seat beside her, and carefully drawn the rub ber blanket around her. “Where to?” he said, turning "and facing her, and as he did so, broke into a broad smile. There was nothing in the smile but pure amusement, but, none the less, slie resented it. “To .Mrs. Harper’s boarding house, at this cud of the village, if you know,” she answered distantly. . “I do not know, I regret to say. Buf you will direct me, please.” Miss Dennis merely bowed in reply. “I do not know this country at all," the gentleman went on, “and you, I sup pose, are almost as much a stranger to it.” This was unendurable! What right had he to be trying to find out things about her? She avoided looking towards the handsome, brown-bearded face so near to her, and answered, in a chilling tone: “On the contrary, I know it very well.” ' “Then you live in this neighborhood?” he asked, in a surprised tone. “I beg your pardon,” said Violet, se verely, not that she did not understand him, bat that she wished to intimidate him so that he would not repeat the question. “I asked if you lived in this neighbor hood,” her companion said, quite una bashed, and with a twinkle in his eyes that would probably have angered her further still if she had deigned to meet his gaze. “No, I do Dot live in this neighbor hood,” answered the girl, icily. “I am sure the neighborhood is vastly the loser thereby.” Violet threw back her head with a mo tion of haughty indignation, whereat the straDger broke into a little merry laugh. At last the drive came to ai end, and it was with infinite satisfaction that she pointed out Mrs. Harper’s house. “I am much obliged to you,” she forced herself to say, ‘ ‘though I regret exceedingly having trespassed on your kindness." “Don’t mention it, I beg of you,” the young man answered, airily, “I con sider myself infinitely the favored party, I assure you. lam indebted to you for a charming drive, which has had no drawback, except its shortness.” Well, surely: This was beyond all precedent! flow could a man look so essentially a gentlemsn and be so ill* bred and obnoxiousl Violet was in a rage. When the buggy stopped before Mrs. Harper s gate, the young man kept his seat while he said: “I hope I may l>e permitted to learn tb* name of my charming driving com* panloo, that I may know by what title 1 am to cherish her in my memory. In return let tne offer nr etrd." He bed taken out L* pocket book, end •ow extended * smell bit of neeteboerd “■d MAP OF BUST UFB—ITS FLUOTVATIOHS AMD ITS VAFT COXCBR1I8." ELLIJAY. GA.. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24. 1887. toward her; but she would not even glance at it. “Will you be kind enough to let me get out?” said Miss Dennis, in a voice of scarcely controlled indignation. “I have thanked yon for your "assistance, but I have no wish to know your name, and certaintly none to acquaint vou with mine.” And, scarcely giving him time to descend from the buggy, Violet sprang past him, ignoring his proffered hand, and ran toward the gate. Before she had reached it, however, the words, “My coat, if you please; excuse my men tioning it,” checked her, and she was obliged to submit to the humiliation of taking off the bi<* rubber coat, and returning it to him. She felt tha\ he was smiling, but she would not look at him. As the young man received the coat, he said, gravely^: “Since you decline to read my name, I must tell it to you. Allow me to intro duce myself as ” But the young lady had by this time turned her back, and was walking rapidly toward the house, and he paused ab ruptly in the utterance of his name, per ceiving that she was already out of ear shot. He laughed to himself—a laugh of genuine amusement—and resumed his scat in the buggy, seeming in no way dis comfited by the treatment he had re ceived. Miss Dennis, for her part, was thor oughly mortified and indignant; but be ing a sensible girl, she reflected that she was going back to the city the next morn ing, and need have no apprehensions for the future, and so she said nothing of her adventure to any one. Shortly after Miss Dennis’s train had left, next morning, the brown-bearded stranger called at Airs. Harper’s, and ac tually had the assurance to ask for Miss Dennis, in the easiest way in the world, and offer his card to be sent up to her. But he was informed by the servant that Afiss Dennis had returned to her home in the city, and so he was compelled to re trace his steps with a somewhat dejected and disappointed visage. * * * * 4 Miss Dennis’s city home was a very elegant and luxurious one,and on Thanks giving evening its decorations and fur nishings were to be seen to the best advan tage, by reason of the splendors of lights and flowers which prevailed everywhere. There was to be a grand family dinner given in special honor of a young gentle man, a somewhat distant relation, recent ly returned from a prolonged stay abroad. He had landed in America some weeks back, but was now first come to this his native city to pay his respects to the family with due form and ceremony. Violet was looking her very loveliest to-night, in a beautiful white silk with natural flowers, and there was unques tionably a look of eager anticipation m the eyes which she constantly turned to wards the door. And there was reailv -Mxfßoiz-** reason for the heighiz, ' , : , ires- Rev* her cheeks to-nig . ni, Arthur Darcy, had GciAi Voigaoff .settled upon, by all the friends of Doth parties, as a most suitable match for her. The young people were naturally sq congenial and so drawn to each other, that the thi g would probably have come about of itself if.ikeir kind friends had not been so obtjHSive, and finally roused Alias Den nis’s haughty spirit, so that when young Darcy ottered himself she said she had no fancy for being married to order, and met him with a flat refusal. Stung by the rejection, Darcy sailed for Europe immediately, and it was not until after he had left that Violet had begun to feel that, perhaps, she had made a mistake. She Was not a girl to repine, however, and sho was young and ardent and fond of society, and she had been a very gay and popular feature therein during these years, but she had never had her heart so really touched by any one as it had been by the cousin she had by her own act, banished, and although she had not been enough in love to pine for him, sho felt exhilarated at the thought of seeing him again. When the door opened at last and he came in, looking very quiet and elegant in his evening dress, with his smooth shaven cheeks and brown mustache and somewhat bronzed complexion. Y’iolet thought him a good deal changed, and yet she told him she would have known him anywhere. “I was scarcely more than a lad when I went away,” he'said, “and these are the yea s in which a man changes most. You are changed, too, Violet, and for the better—which you have not had the grace tc say to me. I should have known you, of course; but with you it is dif ferent. There is an infallible mark of identification.” “Ob,you still remember the three little moles, do you?” said Violet, putting her white hand up to her cheek and laying her finger upon three tiny dark-brown spots near the corner of her right eye. They were no larger than freckles, and as they heightened the effect* of her brilliant complexion, her admirers were apt to dwell upon them as one of her chief beauties. “Of course I remember them,” said Mr. Darcy, “and as they are ineradicable, you could never succeed in hiding your identity from me, if you went to the ends of the earth.” There was rather a tender intonation in liis voice as he said this, and Violet felt her hearta little stirred by the sound of these familiar tones. They were standing apart lor a moment, and no one heard her as she said, playfully: “It was you who went to the ends of the earth—not I.” “It was you who sent me,” he said, “and it is vott who have brought me back.” “Not consciously or voluntarily,” said Violet, with a touch of her old hauteur, “No; unconsciously and involuntari ly," he answered, “but surely and unmis takably, for all that.” There was no opportunity for further conversation between them now, and very soon dinner was announced, and as they were separated there, it was late be fore Mr. Darcy found himself again at Miss Dennis's side. He had lingered after all the guest* had gone, and new they were quite alone. “So you would have known me any where, Violet!" be asked, looking down •t her rather fondly as she stood b< tide him “I could atrsr fail to know your ayes," she said. “They, at lsaet, have not ohaagad." “Neither Uti the heart changed," he said, gently. “Every now and then, when 1 was far away, I used to fall into the most torturing doubts about you. I had made up my mind—idiot that 1 was —that I would never come back to you, and that you could never have loved me at all, if you could send me away like that. I think now that perhaps—maybe —well, possibly I was mistaken. Was I?” “I don’t know,'' said Violet, not pre pared for immediate surrender. “There’s one feeling I always have about you. When I am in trouble or worried, or when I think any one has treated me badly, lahvays think of you. I suppose it ishaving no father or brother that makes me think of you when I want someone to take care of me. Now a thing happened not long ago ” And then she proceeded to give him an account of the rude yd presumptu ous man who had tttjgff advantage of her helplessness to force himself upon her acquaintance, to which he listened patiently, and at the end answered, somewhat irrelevantly: “And so you are sure you would hai c k io .vn me any where?” “Oh, yes; Fin certain of that." “Even if you had i.ncu my eyes though persistently avoiding iliciu— and if I had had a big brown beard all over my face—and it had been in a most un expected region, in i pouring rain, in the twilight of a winter evening?” “What are you talking about?” said Violet, bewildered. i— “I am trying to prove that I had a more faithful memory than you. Noteven the rain,nor the isolation,nor the twilight,nor the rubber coat, nor the draggled feathers, disguised from me. I confess I had some doubts until you got into the buggy. Then I had a good view of the right side of your face, and saw the three little moles which identified you beyond possibility of mistake. Tho fancy seized me then t > play a part and see if you still retained the old haughty manner that has cost me so much, and that I look for in vrt’ii in the person of this meek maiden beside me.” Violet did not speak. She was too astounded, so he went oil: “If you remember, I tried to make myself known, but you would neither read my card nor hear iny name. Y’ou ran and left me relentlessly, but I had a horse I could not leave, so I resolved to rectify matters by calling next day and sending my card, knowing you would come down at once, and picturing your suprise, when I explained my double identity. I had gone down to join some friends in shooting, and expected to be some days in tho neighborhood. You may imagine my disappointment, there fore, when I called only to learn that you were gone.” It wassome time before Violet quite forgave him -or the'.use he had prac ticed, but lie made his peace at last, and before they parted, he took from liis pocket a bright and sparkling object, which he slipped npon her finger, i “V'-yVill you accept that, from mo, , Y’ffu t?” lie said. “I bought that jewel long ago, because it was a very pure anti pe; :'t one, resolving that if I ever ask'd any woman to marry me, I would offer it to her. Somehow I have never been able to fancy it on any hand but yours. Will you take it, Violet, and with it a ncart that has been faithful to you throughout all these years of separation?” st >i sc ** * ■: Violet still wears the ring,and it serves as a gqard now to another, which, though it has no jewel in it, is a thing more precious still, which Arthur Darcy put on her band before the winter that fol lowed that Thanksgiving Day was over. Mrs. Cleveland's Simple Luncheon. A Philadelphia letter to the Chicago Tribune says: She stood the torture of long-continued handshaking hero ad mirably, though it raised some big blist ers on her hands. She was pretty well worn out when she left at nearly mid night on the train for home. She had just come from the big dinner given to the President by the Historical Society of Pennsylvania and other learned bod ies. While her husband and the other guests on the floor were discussing a superb menu, she and a coterie of other ladies looked on from tho Prince of Wales’s box, and ate nothing more filling than the Bubstanco of many laudatory speeches. She counted, however, on a good solid luncheon on the way home, as an order had been left at n fashiona ble hotel near by for something uncom • manly good. As she was seated in her compartment of the drawing-room car that President Roberts of thy Pennsyl vania Railroad Company had placed at her disposal, and the train was about to start, the French head-waiter from the hotel came in with his face as sad-look ing as a figure on a tombstone. “Madame,” he explained;* ‘Madame, something terrible has happened—ah I very terrible!” “What?” asked the President's wife, in alarm, her face beginning to pale. “You remember the luncheon?” “Well?” “We came with it here too soon. There was no fire here anywhere, and we were forbidden to make one for fear of filling the depot with smoke, and so rendering it objectionable to your nos trils, madame.” “Yes.” “And so we sent it back to the hotel to keep it warm. My waiters, who have just come from the hotel with wraps for some of the ladies, were not informed, and so they have left the luncheon be hind.” “O, it is nothing," answered Mrs. Cleveland, with the spirit of a martyr. “We shall manage to got along. But, dear me, I am hungry!” “Will you never forgive us, madame?” “I forgive you now. But is there really nothing to eat on the oar?” “Nothing, madamo.” “Nothing?" “Exoept, madame, some bread.” “Bread ? Then we are all right.” “And some butter, madame.” “Good!" “And some tomatoes. Wo intended them for alud." “Tomatoes ; Why, we revel! lu lux ttiyl" Off the train started, and for half an hour afterwards apparnetly, the first lady of the land gsyly munched bread ana butter and raw tomatoes. Him ex. pressed only one legrct— there was no salt for tho tomato* Bauman wait*)* assart that a typical Aiaerioan rare!) git so tips, BUDGET OF FUN. HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM VARIOUS SOURCES. A Hot Wave For the Eskimo—O be jr- In* Instructions—He Did Not Get Away—Enthusiasm Squelched, Etc. The Eskimo Bits on his porch of ice While the sweat from his brow falls and freezes, He fans himself with his hat, and exclaims: ‘‘Oh, how this hot spell doth squeeze us!” He thrusts his bare feet into the snow, And says: “1 will die a hero, For who can live when the mercury's up To fifty degrees of zero! “If it gets much hotter there’ll be a thaw, Au.i 1 11 burn up, sure as blazes; It’s a terrible thing for a fellow to melt And never leave any traces. We'll have warm meals before long, I fear, And the seal-oil soon will soften; ) The air is torridly horrid, I would \ ft ' I " ere in my ice-hew n coffin. 1 “My walrus suit 1 have laid aside, But still 1 awfully suffer, X wish I was nearer the north pole now, Or that, to heat 1 wero tougher.” The thermometer points to lorty-five, And with burning fears it fills him— The very blood in his veins thaws out, Circulation sets in, and it kills him. — Tid-BiU Obeying Instructions. Old Lady (to grocer’s boy).—“Don’t you know, boy, that it is very rude to whistle when dealing with a lady?” Boy—“ That’s what the boss told me to do, mum.” Old Lady—“ Told you to whistle?” Boy—“ Yes, ’m. He said if wo ever gold you anything wo’d have to whistle for the money.”— Bazar. He Did Not Get Away. “You never drink or smoke, do you, George, dear?” she said. “Y’ou know I could never marry a man who drinks and smokes." George, in a broken-hearted tone of voice, admitted that he did smoke and drink a little, and turned to go. But a pair of white, twenty-seven-year old arms were around his neck in a mo ment. “Nevermind, George.” said tho girl; “perhaps my wifely influence will induce you to give them up.” —New York Sun. Enthusiasm Squelched. Enthusiastic Citizen (about to visit Europe)—“How delightful it will be to tread the bounding billow and inhale the invigorating oxygen of the sea, the sea, the boundless sea! I long to soe_ it! to breathe iu great draughts of life-giving air. I shall w int to stand every moment on the prow of tho steamer with my mouth open.” Citizen’s Wife (encouragingly)—“You probably will. That’s the way all the ocean travelers do.” .iriffnpn silence ensues.— Detroit A specirfl court. '* L'CAI way* Tell the Truth. A careless mau while qt work in the Back Bay the other day dropped u brick from tho second-story of the building upon which he was engaged. Leaning over the wall he discovered a well-dressed gentleman with his hat crushed over his eyes and ears and engaged in a desperate effort to extricate his head from its bat tered covering. “Did that brick strike any one down there?” the man inquired, his voice quivering with apprehension. The af flicted citizen, who had just removed the dismantled cranial adornment, replied, with considerable wrath: “Yes, sir; it hit me.” “That’s right,” came the cool and ex asperating response. “I wonid rather liavo wasted 1,000 bricks than to have had you tell me a lie about it.”— Boston Record. A Sign That Worked Both Ways. “I'm not tho least superstitious,” said a lady in the street car to her escort, “but there is one sign that I’ve never known to fail. If I see the now moon over my left shoulder I’m just as sure to have bad luck as can be, and if I sec it over iny right shoulder I always have good luck.” “That is very remarkable." “Isn’t it. Now last month I saw tho moon over my left shoulder, and the very next day I went out riding on Dolly and she threw me. Wasn’t that awful luck?” “It was, Indeed. Did you ever know it to work the other way?” ' “Certainly, I have. I saw tho moon lover my right shoulder this month, and the other day when I was out driving, and the horse overturned the carriage, I didn’t even get hurt, although I might have been killed. Oh, I’m sure it never fails. —Merchant Traveler. A “Short-Hand” Writer. By an accident while gunning in Mis souri when a boy, Postmaster J. C. Hen drix. of Brooklyn, shot off the fingers off his right hand. In writing, the New York Tribune says, he holds his pen be tween his thumb and the stub of his fist. When he was a college sophomore at Cornell he accepted the editorship of a little foolscap-si/ed sheet daily at Ithaca, in the place of the fotmer editor, who had suddenly disappeared. Mr. Hen drix composed the entire staff, doing the work of reporter, correspondent, scissors driver and leader writer. In his capac ity as reporter he attended a supper of the Ancient Order of Hibernians on the evening of Bt. Patrick’s Day. A burly looking Irishman watched him as his pen, so queerly held, ran nimbly along over the paper. Again the next day the same man brought a companion with him into the newspuper office, and, after buy ing a copy of the paper, loitered behind with his eyes fixed upon the editor, who was then scribbling away as rapidly as the night before. Then turning to his friend the Hibernian said: “Faith, it’s often Oi’ve huhrd tell of I thim short-hand writers, but this is the . furst toimo Oi ivver sit oiyes on one of thim I” Not Very Conversational. There Is an American In the customs' service in China who is guile a charac ter. Hit coolness and suuraoos have i tried the patiece of Kir Robert Hart the Imperial Director of Custom* many times these twenty years, but he is atill there. He never oould learn Chinese, and even whan It was made imperative that the custom* n*u should kuow the language |to tom* sitosl he didn’t learn It. He was always doing something wrong, oi against the rules. On one occasion Sii Robert Hart was in Shanghai, and, walk ing down tho Band, he met the Ameri can, whose post was at a Southern port. The American saluted. “Well, sir,” said Hart, “will you have the goodness to explain why you are not at your post in Amoy? - ’ “Certainly, Sir Robert. lam travel ing with a No. 1 Alandarin on duty.” “Y’ou! Y’ou can’t be of much use How do yon manage? Y’ou don’t under stand Chinese?” “No; but I don’t talk to him.” “How can you get on without talking to him?” “Well, you see, Sir Robert, he’s dead.” He was 'escorting the body of a dead Mandarin to hisfnmily place. —San Fran eiieo Chranirte. “Once a Day.” Thirty ycat ago,, one of the most famous elephants that traveled in this country was “Old Columbus." During one of his summer trips through Vir ginia, he stopped at the town of D —-. In the neighboring town of H , a boy familiarly called “Dave.” und notorious for leadership in all kinds of mischievous tricks, determined to show off before the other boys at “Old Columbus's” expense, and iuvited several of his companions to go with him. Having come to the elephant’s stable, Dave gave him, first, candy, then cake, and finally cried: “Now, boys!" and slipped a piece of tobacco into his pro boscis, intending to get out of danger, and enjoy “Old Columbus’s” disgust and anger. But, before he could move Columbus seized him, and whirled him upward through the opening overhead against the roof the stable. Unhurt by his unexpected “rise,” Dave dropped on the hay-mow. The other boys below, supposing this to be the “trick” promised them, cried out in ad miration : “Dave, Dave, do that again 1” Dave comfortably seated out of harm’s way, very earnestly answered: “No, boysl I only do that trick once a day 1” The Exhaust I rcnosß of City Life There are advantages in city life, but there are results that lesson the gains. It is not merely that there nre risks from sewage gas nnd crowded rooms, but from numbers that hinder interest. City life brings out the ingenuity of man, but there is a great exhaustion oi vital pow er. There is constant wear and tear of the system by the multiplicity of things claiming attention. Think of tho com mittee meetings to bo attended, of the multiplied agencies demanding atten tion ; of the tierce competition for exis tence; of the strain put on men of small capital by tho existence nnd adver tising power of large houses; of the many sights compelling thought: of the par alysis sometimes produced by tho might ier work to be overtaken, .and thedifttcnl ty of making oneself foil amid the mov ing crowds of the city. I Then add the lateness of the hours the shop remain open; the amount of gas used and the bad air breathed; the rapidity with which every customer lias to be attended to; tho distance it is necessary to travel, on trivial business, frequently, in a city; the hurrying to catch trains; the com plex arrangements to be met,and it must be confessed that city life is most ex haustive. The drafts on nervous energy are constant. There is great excitement, and the loss caused is not so readily re paired as in tho country. The air is not so pure. It has been ’ vitiated by bad odors from every source breathed and rebreathed; there is no ozone in it. This accounts for the sense of lassitude so many experience. The superintendence of country toil or actual work lias a more restorative influence than city work. Agriculture has been thought bcDcath many, nnd it has thus been left to lower the minds, as though the best cultivator of the land would be one who had least cultivation ot brain. To what, however, do men of leisure and compe tency so readily turn as to farming? It is evidently the normal state in which pleasure and profit arc best combined. Alan was not intended to be a mere ma chine to get money. The growth of cities meins that men live rather to gnin wealth than to produce it. Mon make money there, but at what cost is it? How much is lost? Homo soy: “No, there are these advantages in towns that lectures, services and amusements can be more readily reached.” Nearly all could be gained in the country under better management. The Quiver. Self-Mending Snakes. Oliver White, Secretary of the Peoria (111.) Scientific Association, says in a letter to the Heientijk American: “I be lieve that you, like most scientific writers, are inclined to scout the idea of the “Glass-Snakes” putting themselves to gether” and crawling away after being broken in pieces. Now, facts are facts, no matter what philosophy may say. About ten years ago I caught one of these reptiles, broke him in pieces from one to two inches long, from the anus to the tip of his tail—two-thirds of the whole length of the way—then placed a cage over him so that he could by no means escape, and mistakes were impos sible. Then, on returning to the place twenty-four hours nfter, the snake was there, sound and whole, in full length. On close examination, however, I could see where most of the breaks had lx-en, and the first section, about an inch and a half long, was not perfectly in place, so that the fine longitudinal lines of the figure weie perhaps one-sixteenth of an inch out oi the way. The remaining fractions corresponded, not with that,but with the body. I did not know then that this putting together process was seri ously controverted by scientific men, and supposed from previous careless ex periment* that it was only the illiterate who doubted. Why She dried. Children are senritivo plants in the human garden. Touch them roughly and they shrink from you. Few of us ’•ppreeiata the depth’of feeling they |to*esa. At the Wednesday night concert In Grand Circus Park last wrek a gentleman noticed a little girl crying. “Whet 1* it, little oner’ ho asked. “It's tbs music,” (aid the child, sob bing. “I don't Ilk* to bear the timid play, 'cause my little sister'* deed. /l it roil Free I'rtss, SI.OO Per Abram, la AdvuMß NO. 36. a crvole serenadb. The lily bares her snowy breast Beneath the summer moon; The moth pursues his honeyed quest Where sacked the bee at noon; And from the fountain's liquid light The fairy music Him To plead for me the love, to-ntgbt, Thy wayward heart denies. Sail, Love, sail Across the slumber sea, And freight thy bark, Amid the dark, With tender dreams of me! The lissome rose with balmy feet Around thy lattice climbs; The breeze steals In with wtngiets Beet To breathe his silver rhymes; While I, with weary waiting worn, Gaze up with wistful eyes. And guaiti thy slumbers till the morn Comm laughing up the skies. Sail, Love, sail Across the slumber sea, And freight tby bark, Amid the dark, Wit*U*ader dreams of me! —Samuel if. Peck, in Timee-DemocraL PITH m POINT. A tight fit—Delirium tremens. You can’t give a busy hotel clerk any points on tho niglitsof labor.— Hotel Mail. A dancing-master, having invented a neat stylo of waltz, announces anew movement on foot. A poet writes: “I owe do man a dol lar.” YV’o never did know a poet who could gef any credit.— Bouton Pott. Tho chestnut crop is so abundant that nobody need feel under obligations to add anything to it. —New York Sun. Little pens of metal, Little drops of ink, Make the tyrant tremble And the people think. —-Sjtrinqfield Union. The king of Spain is seventeen months old and only gets $1,000,000 a year. But if he sticks to business and gets around to the throue early in the morning, and only takes twenty minutes for lunch, and doesn’t knock off before dark, there is no reason why he shouldn't have his sal ary raised.— Life. "Y’ou must understand, Air. Dumley, in seeking the hand of my daughter,’’ said the old man, “that sho will bring you no dowry until after my death.” ‘T understand, sir,” said Dumley, hope fully, "hut you must bear iu mind, my dear sir, that you are getting well on in years.”— Harper ’* Bazar. Her face was very sweet to see, Her countenance was full of glee, “Ah, you nropassing fair!” said he, Her hand was very soft and wee, Up lianded her car rare, did he. „ “Ah you are passing fare!” salt! she. And as the lovers rode away Right f ast the fair grounds blithe and gay, “Ah, wi are passing fairl” said they. —Goodairt Sun. Painted Peas. “I wouldn’t order those French peas, if I were you,” observed a woll-known New York physician to a Mail and Re press reporter, ns they were dining in an upper Broadway cafe. “Why not?” “Because green peas,especially French ones, are deceptive. Time was when green peas were as honest a vegetable as ever grew. But ii this age of deception and fraud very few vegetables can pre serve their integrity.” “Do you mean to say that these are bogus peas?” “No, but the color Is sometimes bogus. It’s as unreal as the paint on an actress’* face." “Is it daugcrous?” “I have never known it to do anything more dangerous than to kill a person. It is usually, howcviw, not that dangerous. I only know of one fatal case,and m that instance a mistake had been made in coloring the peas; too much poison had been used. Sulphate of copper is the poison the fanners use to paint ou their faded vegetables the verdant hue of growth and freshness. A small quantity only is used.” “Why don’t the authorities prevent the sale of them?” “It is not a universally accepted fact that they arc poisonous. American doc tors, notably the members of the Massa chusetts Board of Health, agree that the combination of sulphate of copncr and peas is hurtful. On the contrary, many French and Bulgarian physicians claim that it not only is not harmful, but is a positive remedial agency, and sometimes recommend it to patients suffering from certain maladies. For my part, though, I prefer my vegetables unadorned. I like them plain and clothed in the colors na ture gave them. A decorated pea has no charms for me.” Mother of Pearl. In the western suburbs of Vienna flourishes an industry which, as a gen eral rule, docs not attract much public attention, although it is of gome import ance. This is the manufacture of article* and ornaments where mother of pearl is used. Attention has lately been drawn to this industry, owing to the breaking out of a strike among those engaged,in it. It appears that the value of the crude mother of pearl which is annually consumed in the district is 3,000,000 florins (about £300,000), while the value of exported articles is 8,000,000 florins (about £070, 000). In the latter figures arc not included the articles which are sold in the home market, so that making an allowance for thi item the annual value of mot he -of pearl articles produced iu the neighborhood of Vienna may be set down at about £1,000,000 storling, showing that this industry is one of con siderable importance.— lndustries. Blind Persona Notice Obstructions. “I steod in an aisle,” said Mr. Harri son of the Institution for the Blind,, “when s blind boy was walking toward me, and just as he came opposite I put up my hand before bis fare. It brought him up short, and he flung his bead beck to avoid the obstruction. I did not touch him with my hand, nor did I speak, uor give any other indication of my pret ence. How was he enabled to kuow the obstruction was theret" “Ha* that experiment b*en triad fa mors than oae na*ef” “It bat bees triad often and in many eases, and always with sueesas. Find Fun.