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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 ADVERTISE m HOME PAPER. The best medium in this section. It will pay you. Rates Liberal. SUBSCRIBE To your Home Paper. THE BEST PAPE IN THE COHNTv BOOKS, THREE CENTS EACH! Th following books ire published la nest pamphlet form, printed from good readable true on rood £*i„ I ?*fi r ad 0, 0e o, liS'™Sl?*;? , ? 1 f ‘"fS'HT IKeJ “• **° eiMpt ”n thTcheJlSrt boiler TSb- the'dav l af^e^mosf'lrtlli r ?i , ii^i he “t**®** 01 , ttle people an opportunity to secure the beet u£?2m L wJi<s. t£j m SfeSTELih one“ T 2pfe“7n f work * wouW “** m,uy 'Wonders of the World, Natusal akd Othsr. Con tain* descriptions and illustration* of the moat wonderful work* of nature and of man. Vary Interastlnc sod Instructive. Wonders of the Sen. A description of tbe many wonder, ful and beautiful tbtnfa found St tbs bottom of tbe ocean, with prof me Illustration*. “A Pleasure KsertJoß,’* mad Other Bketehoo. By “ Joaias allkn's Wirs." A collactlos of IrrsaltUbly fanny sketches by tbs moat popular bumorooa wrltar of tl.e day. The Aont Keslah Papers, by Clara Aoscsta, snthor of “ Tbs Kusc Docssmbu.” a most ridlcelossJy fussy book —ln every way equal to “Widow bedoit.” Christmas H lories, by Csaslbs Diesis*. Contains a number of tba most charming Christmas stories aver writtau by tbsgreatMt writer who ever Used. Each on* lacomplt. Hound the Evening Lamp. A book of stories, pictures, parties sad gam-*, for tbs llttla folks a* home Popular ReeltstlMis ad Dialogues, .amorous, drama tic and pathetic, loeladisg all tbe latest, beat and moat popular. The Bel f- made Me a of Modern Times. Contain# por traits and blagraphias of famous sslf msu* ssisrtssss, from tbs time of Franklin to lbs present. Familiar Hastaltsaa Cosulnlsg tbs origin end snthor. ship of many shram frsunsetiy mat Is rsadlag asd cod vat a* tiou. A rains bis work or roforosco. Law Llfh la Now Task. A ssrlss of ©laid pea pictsros Showing tbs dark Side ©f Ilfs is tbs gtsal city SH*#troif Ths Head ta Wealth. *• so edvtrtWsg nrcsler, buts tborosgbly practical work, pointing sal o way by wblohall may rnabo maoty. easily, reptdiy sad Unastiy 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. __ i-Ws wiu Mkd saf fmrjd Urn *to? hacks hf ms 1 raid up™ reer.pl f eaty |tf < tsf.| any fen f. r •i fSatai Ml iwsnff.dm lorJMMWgta i the out irt i*t tlObuubsifv* TMlaalaiua v..i.,- I • .uiri nUusrds with Gael. f<*M 1,10, TbTststhsgftalSstbairvaln l BMBs§f#roMrU I*. t... ii lot ,ir n.i i. AMtfgdlapwarasTsm wassrwfMimiaß, Pnriig~ ii ~ •-*•“ g ~ *i • • \* ' i ty, "nsfci-st Vi-ww* r.kli'.h.r. A, M Mmt.f Mmtl. N.w Tm%l 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 l..ttt.t.r’ C.bl*. X tml. Sr Sri. M V. V ■npmg> Fiercer* letnntoe'e Anita. A Kovel. By |hi Mai A- Ns#!# 4 - lUur- el.<f Thu Uenee Iteirr. a Nv*i By J II i .ri* M n, /liu.t.uKl 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