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WUWI A OOLUAK, Editor and Proprietor.
VOL XII.
ELLIJAY COURIER.
PUBLUHHD EVERY THCISDAY
—BY—
WALTER S. COLEMAN.
GENERAL DIRECTORY,
Superior Court meet* 3d Monday in
Hay and. 2nd Monday in October.
COUNTY OFFICERS.
3. C. Allen, Ordinary.
T. W. Craigo, Clerk Superior Court.
M. L. Cox, Sheriff.
J. R. Kinciad, Tax Collector.
Locke Langley, Tax Receiver.
Jaa. M. West, Surveyor.
<J. W. Rice, Coroner.
Court of Ordinary meeta lat Monday
in each mouth.
TOWN COUNCIL.
R. T. .Pickens, Intend ant.
L. B. Greer, 1
A. J. Hutchison, I ~
J. P. Cobb, Jr., (• Commiaaionera.
T. J. Long, j
W. H, Foster, Marshal.
RELIGIOUS SERVICES.
Methodist Episcopal Church South
Every 8d Sunday and Saturday before.
G. W. Griner.
Baptist Church—Every 2nd and 8d
Sunday, by Rev. E. B. Shops
Methodist Episcopal Church—Every
Ist Saturday and Sunday, by Rev. T. G.
Chase.
FRATERNAL RECORD.
"W. A. Cox, W. M.
J S. Tankersley, S. W.
W. S. Coleman, J. W.
R. Z. Roberts, Treasurer.
D: Garren, Secretary.
E. B. Shope, S. D.
B. P. Whitaker, J. D.
W. H. Foster, 8. S.
J. C. Kell, J. S.
S. P. Garren, Tyler.
R. T. PICKENS,
attorney at law,
ELLTJA V, GEORGIA.
Will practice in all the courts of Gil
mcr and adjoining counties. Estates
<.•><l interest in land n specialty. Prompt
sltention given to all collections.
DR. J. R. JOHNSON,
Physician and Surgeon
7} ' EtL.UA.Y, QEOnatAf uul
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,
EIXTJAY. OA.
Will nr.c,ire m B’u, Ki.!ge Circuit, Oonnt,
DR. J. S. TANK!RSLEir
Physician and Surgeon,
Traders his professional services !o the -Jti
sens of Ellijay, Gilmer and snrronnding eo'v
P o^ P^ n to - oif ‘
WIFE WALDO THORNTON, D.D.S.
DENTIST,
_ Calhoun, Ga.
w Will not Ellijay and Morgan ton st
both the Spring and Fall term of fhe
oupenor Court—and of toner bj speoial
sufficient work is gnar
anteea to justify me in Making tbe visit.
AddieM mm above. rmavll-Ai
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Th following books ire published la nest pamphlet form, printed from good readable true on rood
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'Wonders of the World, Natusal akd Othsr. Con
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Wonders of the Sen. A description of tbe many wonder,
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“A Pleasure KsertJoß,’* mad Other Bketehoo. By
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Christmas H lories, by Csaslbs Diesis*. Contains a
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Hound the Evening Lamp. A book of stories, pictures,
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Popular ReeltstlMis ad Dialogues, .amorous, drama
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Familiar Hastaltsaa Cosulnlsg tbs origin end snthor.
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Showing tbs dark Side ©f Ilfs is tbs gtsal city SH*#troif
Ths Head ta Wealth. *• so edvtrtWsg nrcsler,
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Oae lluudred Papular iaags* essiiwsnui latbetl*
sad somic, isuisdisg mail of tba favorites s.w ssd m i
Mr NasTt (Mb A Naasl. By M>s. Ms* ds*se fusiss
A liarUrfmf Unb A Basel. By Mestos Bast***.
BaaHism A Btsi. By Mr* am 0.
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THE ELLI.JAY COURIER
'"COUGHS,CROUP
AM
CONSUMPTION *
TAjagi
-SWEET CUWI*->
MULLEIN.
The street gum, as gathered from a tree of the
pie name, growing along the small streams In
o Southern States, contains a stimulating #*•
pectorant principle that loosens the phlegm pro
nnetng the early morning cough, ami stlmnlates
the child to throrrotfthe raise membrane In oroup
and whooping-cough. When combined with the
Pealing Bincllaglnons principle in the mullein
plant of the old Helds, prosents in Tatlob'S
[ UEnoKEK REMEDY Of SWkET GT7M AND MUL
|.Bi N the finest known remedy for Coughs, Croup,
Whooplng-cmigh and consumption; and so pala
table, nny child is pleased to take It. Ask your
Iniceist tor It. Price SSe. and 01.00. 7
WALTER A.TAYLOKjAtluuta.Ga.
The BEST PIANOS and OR6ANS
IN THE WORLD
Are manufactured and sold for the least money
" by
the best are the cheapest.
jBEETH'OVENC
DIANO ORGAN CO.
L fl ]'jin'
8L ! 111 IHmw qk | , ji •
c tobacco e
ARBUCKLES’
name on a paohage of 90TTM X la a
guarantee of exeellenoe-
ARIOSA
COITII le kept in all first-class
stores from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
COFFEE
is never good when exposed to the air.
Always buy this brand in hermetically
sealed ONE POUND PACKAGES.
The Ruble*. X Nol. Kj M T. c.t nom.
The Old Oaken Cheat. AKovel. ByntiVAHea Cob, Jr.
T* l ® bT tht* Ocean. A Novel. By Clara Auourta.
Aoh BttU. A Novel. By Maroarft Bloomt.
Cltffo llourc. A Novel. By Etta W. rtson.
Cider tho Lilac*. A Novel. By the oatoor of 44 Dorn
Thome.”
Tke Diamond Bracelet. A Novel. By Mre. Hirst
Wood. TUustrate-J.
The Lawjer’eHecveL A Kovel. By Uiee m. jl Braooo*.
The etmec Cue of Dr. JohyU mm 4 Mr. B*4o. A
* ov# L. By R/L. Otrvbrrdw. 9
A W IcLd filrl. A Novel. By Hah Oam Hat.
Lftdj **lwerth’e Diamond#- a Novel. By “Ti
Dvcrkm.”
Between Tee Bine. A Hovel. By tbo anther e# " Bore
Thorne " fUutirattd.
Wne of lleerie. A Novel. By B. t. F.umi,
Dories r orient-. A Novel. By fuuati Wardrr,
Low M urHece. A Novel. By Mlu Molocr. /Bus
ho Oolllj Mlver. A Kovel. By Wilsir C'en i.
he Poloon ef Aeee. a Novel. By Flomid e Mabstat.
meet 6re owe. A Novel. By Mre. Urvrv Woor.
{•Ota* Fetter#. A Novel. By Mr# ALetenete.
”“' 4 4 “-
1 •' "°“’ 4
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Fiercer* letnntoe'e Anita. A Kovel. By |hi Mai
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Thu Uenee Iteirr. a Nv*i By J II i .ri* M n,
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That < oil fere I e < eble. A 80v... By if t. #•* Men,
ON HKIOHTO
Who dwells upon the heights estate elooe
Cnfound ot Love that seek* n genial air,
Not such as permeates cold spaces where
The snow pees ness mountains for a throne
And glaciers bind them with a frozen lone.
Love joys to see each cascade's silvery hair
Wave flowing treeaas o'er a rooky stair,
Not changed by gorgon-wlnds to rigid stone.
Be not on some lone pinnacle your goal;
For though the icy silence it sublime,
Coeval with the ancient gray-haired Time,
It chills the warmer feelings of the soul
And eyes, that only o’er such prospects roll,
See not the graces of a softer clime.
‘—Mary L. Goodrich, in Current.
Our Next Door Neighbor.
BY ADELAIDE D. ROLLSTON.
“I declare, it’s just too provoking!"
cried Bess, seating herself by the win
dow, and fanning herself vigorouslv with
her straw hat.
“What’s the matter now?” I asked,
looking up from my easel.
“I infer from your tone that there is
always something the matter,” she said,
pettishly, and with something like a
tear in her eye.
“I believe there is, desf; at least, there
seems to be lately,” I remarked, making
little daubs of paint on my palette as I
spoke. "Bess, don’t you think I’ve
made my sky a tritie too blue?” I asked,
changing the subject abruptly, for I was
beginning to dread these sudden out
bursts of temper from my usually good
natured sister.
“Oh, it’s all very well for you to treat
my troubles lightly 1” cried Bess, ready
to burst into tears. “You didn’t make
the flower beds, and you don’t mind if
they are spoiled! You don’t waste your
time and breath these warm mornings
chasing chickens out of the yard I"!
“So it’s the chickens this time!” I said,
laughing. "Yesterday it was the gee-e,
ana the day before the pigs. I wonder
what it will be ■to-morrow?”
“I wish you’d be sensible, Fan,” and
Bess came over and took the brush and
palette out of my hand. “There 1” and
she threw them ou the table. “I’ve a
good mind to spoil your picture for treat
ing me as if I were a little child.”
“I’m sure I nm as sorry as you are
about the flower-beds, but what are we
to do?" I asked. “VVe are careful to
keep the gates fastened, and we’ve
stopped all the cracks in the fence; but
somehow the pigs, chickens apd geese
manage to get in. I sometimes think
they’re bewitched. One thing is certain:
we can’t spend our whole time driving
them out, or in fretting about them.”
“My mignonette was coming up so
nicely 1” said Bess, with a sigh. “And
I was thinking I’d set out my geraniums
•felWrAsStenSb, SbgSfr
as brown and wilted as weeds in autumn.
People who live in town have no business
with chickens and such things. If they
want to raise poultry, let them move to
the country. Why don’t those chickens
scratch around in Mrs. Brown’s jffcrden,
I wonder? I look at her flowers and
vegetables, growing so nicely, and then at
mine, scattered to the four winds; and I
think she is the most disagreeable old
woman in the world. She saw me/throw
a stone at her old rooster this nyhning,
and called out over the fence that I’d
better let her property alone.” j
“I hope you said nothing sacy to her
—you arc so hasty, Bessie I said,
reprovingly. j
“I to and her to keep heryChickens out
of my yard, if she didn’f wan't them 1
killed, ” said Bess, looking defiantly out
of the window. /
“ O Bess, you’lmal ke matters worse,
if you go on at that rate 1” I cried, as 1 1
thought-ef our neighbor’s sharp face and
sharper tongue. “If yok should happen
to kill one of her chickens, likely as not
she’d have von arrested. She’s just the
sort of woman to and it.”
"/ know something about the law!
replied Bess, shaking her head angrily.
“No one has a right to keep anything that
is a source of annoyance to his or her
neighbor. If those chickens persist in
scratching up my flower-beds, and if
Mrs. Brown makes no effort to keep them
at home, I shall eerta nly kill them.”
“ You shall do nothing of the kind! ”
I said, as I gathered up my brushes and
put my easel away.
“Fan, I haven't told you half,” said
Bess. “ Y’ou know how r anxious lam to
learn to be a good housekeeper, and an
economical one. I’m sure Sally is a
good cook, and is very saving. I might
put it a little stronger, and say that she's
a stingy cook, for she often makes 11s go
without a dessert when we might as well
have one every day. But in spite of
pin hing and saving, our expenses are
greater than they were a month ago.”
“ Well, you can’t blame our neighbor
for that, can you?” I asked, wondering
what po sib'e connection Mrs. Brown and
the pigs and geese and chickens could
have with our household expenses.
“ Your ignorance or innocence, which
ever it is, is certainly sublime, 1 ' said
Bess, with a lofty smile. “ Don't you
know that Mrs. Brown is continually
borrowing, and never paying back?”
“Why, no; I had no idea she had
ever borrowed anything 1" I said, in great
surprise.
“Because you’re blind to everybody
and everything except your music class
and your painting,” said Bess, in an in
jured tone. “Why, she’s borrowed sugar
and coffee and flour and lard and the mop
and a flat iron oh, I can’t begin to tell
you what she has borrowed, ond I'm get
ting tired of it! VVe can’t keep up two
families, that’s certain.”
“Can’t you find a way to refuse with
out offendiDg her?” I asked, a little
vaguely.
I had had no experience at housekeep
ing, and sinee coming to the cottage I
had depended entirely upon Bess, who.
though two years younger than m seif,
was of a more practical turn of mind,
and had gladly taken upon her young
shoulders the whole responsibility of do
tn Stic affairs.
“I did refuse once or twice, but she
keeps on sending,” said Bess, with a
sigh. “And she gets what she wants at
last, for I let In r have it just to get rid
of her. Yesterday it was a (jiiiirt ot flour,
and tin 1 day b-fore it was a little butter;
and when I politely informed her that
■he already owed me a |tound of butter,
■be aaid she'd be certain to send h k
everything be owed me this morning;
but aba Hasn’t, nod we can't go on at till*
rate much longer **he won't taka a
Witte us for Illustrated Catalogue, Free.
“A MAP OP BUST LIPS—ITS PLUOTUATiONS AND ITS VAST OONOBBNS."
ELLIJAY, GA.. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 2. 188s.
hint, and if I flatly refuae to land her
anything more, she ll be sure to do all
■he can to annoy us.”
“ And wo were just beginning to get
I along so nicely t" I said, looking around
jat the cosy room. “It will never do to
complain to Uncle Robert,” I went on,
; “for you know he Mid if we were de
termined to work lor a living, that we
should have this cottage free. We can’t
pay house rent, and live in any degree of
comfort; and if we find fault with the
place, uncle willthink we regret coming
here, and will insist on our going back
to him."
“ I’m sure 1 haven’t the least idea of
up the house;” said Bess. “But
't see how we are going to live
peaceably with eucs a neighbor. Think
what good neighbor* we had at uncle’s 1
There were the Greys on one side—such
nioe, friendly gi|Hs-?and the Lemans—
such quiet people— on the other. Well,
I shall work flower-beds over, sow
the rest of my se/d, and if they are
scratched up erfufi, I shall retaliate by
, purchasing a dozen fowls and letting
them run In MjriaEvown’e garden.”
" Bnt will thiufitf showing the proper
i spirit ?” I asked. /* You know the Bible
i says jjLv*
“Don’t pretiSif you please, Fan,”
and Bess ■topiAhr l p her enrs, and began
humming a li|VKime. When Bess aid
that, I knew useless to argue the
matter the subject was
dropped. Jl”
It was rentes*’!, however, the next
day, when BcSolfbund her fiowei-beds
up-rooted by AJd pigs, and the geese
making havoc LZl er potted plants, one
old gander seJming to have a special
fondness for ,ssme lily-buds that were
almost ready to open.
“I shall nflfc'try any more,” said Bess,
when she had stormed and wept by turns
for half an hour. “I’ll le? the flower
beds go and turn my attention to con
cocting ail sorts of detestable puddings
and pie* for yur benefit, Fan. They’ll
be certain to givfe you dyspepsia, and
then you’ll wish you’d helped me to
raise flowers. ”
Now 1 lotcH flowers as much as Bess
did, but I was not willing to work in
the face of sosimny difficulties, and told
her so.
When summer came, and all around
us were pretty green lawns, vine-covered
porches and flower-beds that guve out
the hues of the rainbow, our little plat
of ground was disolatc, save for the !
pigs and chickens and geese that roamed
there nt their own sweet will.
Even the grass refused to grow, except
in Rule patches, iuterspersed with weeds,
and the two cedar-trees that stood by the
porch took on a dismal air, as if they
were ashamed to be seen growing there.
Bess kept her word, and turned her
attention to pi; >naking. How she
managed to endui’ the atmosphere of the
close kUchen wasfa mystery to me; but
she rsgented myjgfrt-ts to keep her in the
she was really in earnest about learning
to cook, for she worked hard enough;
but her success was far less than her
merit.
“Bess, you must waste a lot ohegga,”
I remarked one day severely, though I
couldn’t help laughing at the fiinny
looking object before me which Bess
said was an egg custard.
“Oh, eggs are cheap 1” said Boss, gayly,
though her face flushed a little as sne
spoke.
“I really bolievo you make these pies
and puddings for the benefit of the
chickens,” said I, teasiugly; “they usu
ally eat them after we have looked at
them 1”
“You can make all the fun you want
to, but I shall learn to be a famous cook
yet,” said Bess.
But before the summer was half gone
Bess paid dearly for those days in the
close little kitchen. A slow fever at
tacked her, not at all alarming at first,
but gradually developing into typhoid
fever of a severe typo, and I was com
pelled to give up my music class that I
might be constantly at her bedside.
Form atcly I had a small sum of money
laid by, enough for our present need at
least, so l was not Obliged to apply to
Uncle Robert for assistance. In fact, 1
determined not to write to him at all,
unless Bess desired. . I knew his family
was at the seaside, and that he was ab
sorbed iu important business matters, so
that if he ran down to see us it would
inconvenience him much.
The days that followed were trying
ones, and to make matters worse most of
o.ir friends had left town for the summer,
and I had to depend almost entirely upon
Bally, who, though ready and wilting to
assist me, was obliged to be in the kitch
en a greater part of the time.
I saw the necessity of getting an ex
perienced nurse at once, and concluded
to write to Uncle Robert and ask him to
procure me one, if possible, in Bridge
water.
Bess had been delirious for three days,
and I was almost beside myself with fear
and anxiety. I sat down, hurriedly
wrote my letter and was just about to
seal it, when I became conscious of the
fact that someone had just entered the
room.
Looking up I saw Mrs. Brown, our
neighbor,- standing by the lied, and gaz
ing down at Bess who had fallen into a
fitful, troubled sleep.
“I’ve been a-wantin’ to come ever
since your sister was took down,” she
said, in a low tone, “but I was kinder
’fraid you wouldn’t want me. We haint
been very neighborly, it’s true; but if
there is anything I can do, I’ll lie glad
to do it. I’m a right smart hand at
nursin’ sick fo'l.s, especially in fevers
like this.”
I was quite at a loss what to say. I
thought of Bess and her strong dislike
for the woman, and wondered if her
presence in the sick room might not
make matters worse. Bess was so impul
sive and frank spoken that if she dis
liked any one she took no pains to con
ceal it, and it was very probable that
she would resent Mrs. Brown’s coming.
"lam sure you are very kind, and I
thank you ever so much. Mrs. iirown,”
1 faltered, at last. Then seeing her
fare brighten at once, 1 added, impul
sively: “I shall be glad to have you help
me nurse my sister, if you will.”
Whether Bess was conscious of who
watched beside her from that day on or
not, I could not tell, but it is eertain
that Mra. itrowu had a wonderful influ
ence over bur, and could quiet her when
j no one else Could, and that Itess clung to
her with a chddisb fondue* that was
vary touching. At titm-., however, it
gave die • pang of jealousy to have her
tore from me to the armt of the withered
old woman.
It was wonderful how fast the dear
child improved. In fact, I dated the
| change for the better almost from the
; very day that Mra. Brown came to u*.
'■ She seemed to know just what to do,
| end when, and how to do it, and moved
| about the sick room so noiselessly that I
| often found myself wondering that I had
| ever though her loud-voiced and fussy.
The doctor declared, with mock indig
nation, that if we persisted in keeping
Mrs. Brown we would have no further
need of his services.
“I reckon you’re just havin’ a little fun
at my expense,” said Mrs. Brown, laugh
ing and shaking her head, “for I don’t
set myself up fora doctor,by no means.”
When Bess was able to sit up a little
she was in such a weak state, both
physically and mentally, that the least
opposition to her wishes would make
her irritable and cross, and I was often
puzzled to know what to do.
Often when my patience was taxed to
the utmost I would run over to Mrs.
Brown’s who, saw me coming,
would drop her knitting and say:
“Little Bess wants me, I know! You
haven’t learned how to manage her yet.
You must humor her odd notions, and
by-and-by, when she’s strong again,
she’ll forget all about ’em and be her old
self again.”
It was several weeks after Bess grew
strong and well before either of us al
luded to the dislike we had formerly felt
for Mrs. Brown. I think we were both
silent for very shame. •
Then one evening, as we sat in our
accustomed places by the window, I
busy with my sewing, Bess trying to
figure up how much it would cost to keep
a cow, she turned to me and said : “Fan,
I want to tell yon something. I’ve had
it on my mind for a long time, and I
can’t keep it any longer 1”
“Well!” and I laid down my sewing
and prepared to listen.
“I expect you’ll laugh, but, indeed, it’s
no laughing matter,” said Bess. “Do
you remember these terriblo pies and
puddings?”
“Can I ever forget them?” I cried.
“Y'ou don’t mean to tell me that yon in
tend to go to making pics and puddings
again?”
“No, I only want to tell you that every
egg wasted in those detestable desserts
belonged to Mrs Brown 1” said Bess,
lowering her voice and growing very
red.
“Oh, Bess!” and I could get no
further.
“It’s the truth aud I do feel so mean
about it 1” said Bess, “ When I gave up
the hope of having flowers, ana Jbund
that I couldn’t keep the chickens*out, I
made some nests in the old shed back of
the coal hou-e and the hens laid there
every day. Even Sally didn’t know
where the eggs came from, though I trem
bled every day lest Bhe should find out.
* - V-—. XI pu Ilioau hid wui
everything she had borrowed, and had
said that she wouldn’t have troubled me
at all only she had been rather pinched
for money, and I felt that I had been a
little too hard with her, but I wasn’t
willing to be friendly just then, and so
went on taking the eggs just out of
spite, for I didn’t want them or need
them in the least. And now I am so
sorry and so ashamed of what I did 1
When I got well enough to know who
was helping to nurse me, I thought
every day I’d tell her about it, but her
very kindness made me afraid.”
“I don’t wonder that your pies and
puddings didn’t turn out well!” I said,
smothering a strong desire to laugh
when I saw how troubled Bess was.
“I think it was because I used a goose
egg now and then, aud they are always
so strong,” said Bess, solemnly. “Fan,
I knew you would laugh at last 1" she
added reproachfully.
“I can’t help it," and I think Mrs.
Brown would laugh too, if she knew it,”
I said. “Suppose you tell her and see if
she don't,” I added.
Bess wiis silent; and to this day I am
not sure that she acted upon my sugges
tion, but I am inclined to tliink that she
did.
This much Ido kDow— that the most
valued friend and neighbor we have it
Mrs. Brown; that she has taught Bess to
make excellent pies and puddings; that
the pigs and chickens and geese have
ali been sold “be< nusej they wa’n’t tit ten
to raise in town,” Mrs. Brown said.
Finally when we goto the seaside next
summer, Mrs. Brown will go with ur.
For, as Bess says, we shall need a kind,
motherly soul to look after us, and
though our fashionable friends laugh and
shaketheir heads when we speak of oui
plans, it does not alter ourditerminatioi
in the least.— Youth’* Companion.
The Salmon of Knmsdiutka.
Hundreds of salmon were in sight, ab
solutely touching one another, and at
we crossed the river our horses nearly
stepped upon them. Their back tine
were visible a-i far as we could see the
stream, and aground and gasping in the
shallows, and lying dead or dying upon
the banks were hundreds more. The
odor from these decaying fish was
distinctly perceptible at a distance of a
couple of hundred \ards or more. In
weight these salmon varied from seven
to fifteen and even twenty pounds. They
were, for the ino-t part, foul fish—
blotchy, with patches of led and white,
and of the kind known by the Russians
as the Garbusa; but others in fair con
dition were to be found, and with a lit
tle trouble I was able to pull out three
good ten-pound fish in as many minutes
with a gatf. Any other method of Ach
ing would have been useless. It would
have been nearly impossible to make a
cast without foul-hooking a fish, and
nine-tenths or more of them were in an
uneatable condition.—“ The Crui*-. of ttn
Marchtta."
The Great Balt Lake.
In spring, when the mountain anowi
•re melting, the lake sometimes spreads
over the plains that border ita shores.
But it iss large bike at any time: about
ninety miles in length, I believe, and
forty miles wide. An iutinmise sheet of
water! And no living Ihing cun exist
in it Not h fish in all tlmt silent sea!
It is the heaviest sort of brime, charged
with salt and other mineral substance*.
Leave a stick in it a few hours, and when
you lake it out it will appear covered
with crystals. But a live trout in it,
aad it will turn over on its bank ami dl*
In about il.roe or four gasps It la •
wonderful lake, — Ht. Sviola
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
In a Distressful Condition—A Sad
Disappointment—Her Ooats—A
Great Improvement—A De
sirable Dwelling, Etc.
Mrs. Hendricks (the landlady)—“You
•re not looking at all well this morning,
Mr. Dumley. Have you eaten anything,
do you think, that distresses you?”
Mr. Dumley (the boarder) “No,
ma'am; I think it is something that I
have not eaten that distresses me.”—
Harper’* Bacar.
A Bad Disappointment.
“Oh, George,” said the happy girl,
“do you know what papa gave mo last
night when I told him that I had con
sented to be your wife?”
“No,” responded ftcorge, endeavoring
to conceal his anxiety, "as visions of a
check loomed up before him; “what
was it he gate you, dear?”
And the girl bowed her head on his
coat collar and murmured:
“His blessing.”— Epoch,
Her Goat*.
Sarcasticus and his wife were going to
the opera. “Will you please go in and
get my goats off the dressing table?”
said Mrs. S.
“Your goats?” queried the puzzled
Sarcasticus; “what fangle have you
women got now?”
“I’ll show you," snapped the wife ae
■he sailed away and soon returned put
ting on her gloves.
“Are those what you mean?” Why, I
call those kids. ”
“ I used to,” replied Mrs. Sarcasticus,
“but they are getting so old I nm
ashamed to any longer.” He took the
hint.— yt. Paul Herald.
A Great Improvement.
Jl Detroit drummer has often stopped
with an old farmer near a country store,
getting supper, lodging and breakfast,
for seventy live cents. On his last trip
he was surprised when he asked the
amount of his bill to be told that it was
$2. He remonstrated with the farmer,
and wanted to know why his bill was
larger than common.
“Wall.” said the landlord, “I hev been
rankin’ some improvements.”
“But I had the same bed, and the
meals were no better," replied the com
mercial man. “What improvements
have you made?”
“Jest step out here an’ 1 will allow
you," replied mine host, and he led the
patron out on the porch, and pointed to
a sign reading “Hotel.” —Detroit Free
Preen.
A DBBTrmTTB TTWn i rrrjf.' *
Real Estate Agent—“l’ll be honest
with you sir, so that if you rent this
house you’ll have no reason to com
plain.”
Prospective Renter—“ Well, what’s
the matter?”
“There is a general belief among the
neighbors that thjs house is haunted.”
“The deuce you say! What sort of a
ghost?”
“A woman with long black hair, who
goes from room to room at midnight,
passing through doors and walls, and
finally vanishing.”
•‘Just name your figure for the house
and I’ll move in to-duy.”
“You’re not afraid:”
“Afraid? Why, I’m running a dime
museum at Kansas City, anil a card like
that would paralyze the town. I’ll lasso
that ghost or die. D'draska btate
Journal.
A Sensitive Mail.
“Ah, good morning,’ said a well
known Kentucky gentlemen, addressing
a man whom lie met in the street.
“How are you, Colonel
“Look here,” the first speaker, after a
short pause, continued, “every day I
discover additional evidences of the fact
that you do itot like me.” Why is it:”
“Do you mean why you discover the
evidences or why I do not like you?”
“Why you do not like me, of course.”
“Well, in the first place, you are such
an outrageous liar.”
“Y’es.”
“And, in the second place, it has been
proved that you are a thief.”
“Well,” said the Colonel, “I merely
wanted to know, anil it strikes me that
your reasons ore very good. lam a sen
itive man, and it nettles me to thinks
that anyone dislikes me without a cause.
I am glad that you have explained your
self so clearly.”— Arhma.w Traceler.
A Losing Speculation in Bears.
“That’s a peculiar looking dog of
yours,” one of ussuggeeted to a Wyom
ing settler, near whose house we camped
one night.
“Y-e-s, ’tis some peculiar,"hereplied.
“Fact Is, gen’l’men, that dog's a woif.”
“Why don’t you kill it and get the
bounty?”
“8h! I’m onto this bounty all right.
Haint heard any talk ’bout the bounty
being repealed by the next Legislature, I
reckon? ’
“No.”
“Glad o’ that; I don’t want to get
stuck again. I got two more wolves out
’n the barn, and I’m goin’ o raisin’ ’em.
I ’low in a year or so to have a pretty
r’spectabietlock to turn in to the Terri
torial Treasurer.”
“It ought to pay."
“ ’Twill if I don’t get stuck like I did
in Northern Wisconsin once.”
“How waa that:”
“B’ar—started a b’ar farm. The State
was payin’ $lO apiece for b’ar scalps, an’
mighty tickled to get ’em at that. I got
a pair of black b’ar an’ took good care of
’em. aud in a few years I bad a likely
herd of seventeen as pretty b’nr as you
ever seen. ’Lowed to kill about ten of
’em in the spring nn’ send the scalp* to
the Btut* Treasurer, tollin’ him how I
went out in tbe woods an* lit ’em with an
asa an’ got most chawed up, but it didn’t
work—l got floored,"
“How did that lwpi>eiif”
“l<egislatui w<nt an’ ru|M'aled the
law, sii’ there 1 was, left with seventeen
big hungry k’uron my hands an’the bot
tom gone out o’ the b’sr market more'n a
mile straight clown! Heveuteen b'ar, an'
ao demand for b'ar! t-.venteen b’ar, mb'
b'ar a drug in the market \ Hack yard
ao • utl of chained-up b'ai that you
coulda't walk, MU* the |*ru* of b'ai f da’
*I.OO Per Aram* *• Aflfeaee.
NO. 46.
down so you could bear it hum! II
made me sick! I drove my whole flock
down ten miles, where Abe Dunn lhred
- -who was in the Legislature an’ voted
agin b’ar—an’ left ’em near hie hog pen,
an’ then I pulled up ’an come out nerr
where I heard they was payin’ $5 for
wolf scalps. I tell you what, if thi.
miserable, low-lived Legislature goes an’
busts up the wolf industry, I’ll be snaked
if I’ll every try to earn an honest livin'
again!”— Chicago Tribun*.
" A Very Tough Conductor.
A railroad couductor who used to run
up in the Marinette and Hurly regions
of Wisconsin, and who is now cooling
off in Chicago from the effects of some
warm experiences which he lrnd in that
benighted section, entertained a party of
friends— among them a Chicago Mail re
porter—recently in the following vein
“I had been told when I first took
charge of the train that I would hare a
tough lot to deal with. The first car I
entered ou the occasion I am telling
about was full of- the hardest-looking
customers I ever saw. There wasn’t a
sober man in the lot. I approached each
man and said ‘ Tickets ’ in a firm but po
lite way. They all gave me a big laugh,
and when I had gone through the car I
hadn’t a ticket or a cent to show for my
work. I felt as though I was in great
luck to be alive. I entered the next car
and encountered an individual who was
infinitely harder looking than the chaps
I had left. I said 4 Ticket ’to him and
he shrugged his great shoulders.
“ ‘ How much did .you get out o’ that
other car ?’ he asked.
“I told him not a ticket, not a cent.
“ 4 What, are you going to do about it V
44 1 told him I didn’t know.
44 4 Kin you afford it ?’ he growled.
44 1 told him I couldn’t.
“ ‘Then you’ll get bounced—lose your
job, won’t you?’ he asked.
“I said I guessed that was the size of
“ ‘Well, you won’t,’ he said, ‘Gimme
your cap. I'll got your tickets.’
“I handed him my cap and insignia,
and he went forward. The first man he
came to he hit under the ear and bawled
out; ‘Gimme your ticket or your fare, oi
I’ll bury you in tho floor.’
‘ ‘The man recovered and handed the
thumper a bill.
‘“You don’t get no change on this
’etc trip,’ said the acting conductor and
he hnun’t more than said that than he
hit another man under the ear. ‘Ticket
or fare,’ says the acting conductor, and
that man unloaded.
“In less time than it takes me to tell it
every man in the car was on his feet with
money in his hand waiting to pay, and
every one of them did pay.
“The acting conductor brought th*
roll to me ana said: ‘You want to hit
these chaps under the ear when you want
fare.’
“But I never had the courage to do it,
and I soon afterward resigned. I nevei
Icxvsww xhn m Kpnf.fn.rf-t/ir wax T wlrxil
his name, and he answerea;
“ ‘You got your money, didn’t you!’
“I said ‘Yes.”
“ ‘Well',’ he added, ‘don’t ask any
foolish questions.’
“I saw him frequently after that, but
never learned his name. He always paid
his fare, and I never hit him under the
ear for it, either.”
Chickens and English Sparrows.
A resident of Madison, Ohio, writes ae
follows to the Cleveland Lender:
The temerity of the English sparrows
is beyond parallel, and although they are
universally condemned by the press and
destroyed at every opportunity by the
public, yet they steadily increase, and
what is more perplexing they seem per
fectly contented with their lot, and are
cheerful and even hilarious
Not only do they deprive the barn
yard fowls of a large portion of theii
daily food, but also use them as instru
ments of shelter and protection, and that
they have lost noun of their reputed
courage and audacity the following inci
dent will show:
One evening while passing a pole upon
which a number of fowls roosted, I was
surprised to see several sparrows flv
away from the roost. Not fully satisfied
witli iny conclusion—that the birds were
roosting under cover of the fowls—l
stepped behind a board fence to watch
for a verification. ' Presently the bird*
I egan to return and alight within a few
feet of the roost; then one with more
courage than any of the others, flew over
and alighted Bquarely on the back of a
large rooster, and a moment later disap
peared between the feathers of the roostor
and a hen at his side.
Soon the other sparrows began to settle
between the fowls, and in a short tim*
all had found a warm shelter from the
storm, and protection from noxious ani
mals 1 eneath the soft feathers of th*
good-natured fowls. Indeed, Ido not
believe that the fowls dislike the spar
rows ; on the contrary, I believe that the
great, generous cocks take delight and
pride in offering protection to these,
their miniature counterparts. lam con
fident that I observed one portly old
rooster slightly elevate his wing to give
a sparrow a comfortable roosting place,
and then chuckle encouragingly to ths
wee bird as it nestled closely to his
downy bosom.
An Engineer's Luck.
About ten years ago a certain engineer,
while in reduced circumstances and al
most without hope for the future, found
himself in a beautiful valley of San Luis
Obispo. Shabby and moneyless as he
was, a great desire crept into his heart
as he observed the beanty and the value
of the position.
“If ever I should become rich,” h
said, “ the first thing I would do would
be to come back here and buy this val
ley."
Soon thereafter he joined a party of
prospectors on their way to the Apacb*
haunted border of ArLona. Their
friends, in a spirit of satire, advised
them to take their tombstones with them,
for they would need them. Hat the
reckless prospectors went on their way,
and after the discovery of tbe wonderful
lode called the “Tough Nut,” wbieh
brought them their fortunes, earned tha
town which sprang up around thsm
“ Tombstone, - in i lurisive deference to
the adrioa that had been given them. A*
soon a* tha eiiginser could realise his
good fortune, he bethought himself of
the lovely valley, and going back and
Hinting it still open to purchase, sooa
Ix-came the proud owner. Ever else* he
Has bean known among our wraith
ranchmen •* the noeeaesor of ike ' tiled *
mult i