Newspaper Page Text
WALTEB 8. OOLEXAN, Editor and Proprietor.
PUBUBHKD EVERY THCTtSDAY
WALTER S >T COLE MAM.
Superior Court meets 8d Monday in
May and 2nd Monday in October.
J. C. Allen, Ordinary.
T. W. Craigo, Clerk Superior Court
M. L. Cox, Sheriff.
J. R. Kinciad, Tax Collector.
Locke Langley, Tax Receiver.
Jus. M. West, Surveyor.
G. W. Rice, Coroner.
Court of Ordinary meets Ist Monday
io each month. ,
< TOWN COUNCIL.
R. T. Pickens, Mayor.
L. B. Greer, 1
T. J. Long, J
A. J. Bishop, Marshal.
Methodist Episcopal Church South—
Every 3d Sunday and Saturday before.
Bev. W. F. Colley.
Baptist Clnirch—Every 2nd and 8d
Suuday, by Rev. E, B. Shopc.
Methodist Episcopal Church —Every
Ist Saturday and Suuday, by Rev. T. G.
W. A. Cox, W. M.
J S. Tankersley, S. TV.
TV. S. Coleman. J. W.
R. Z. Roberts, Treasurer.
D. Garren, Secretary.
E. B. Shope, S. D.
B. P. Whitaker, J. .D.
W.H. Foster, S. S.
J. 0. Ke” J. S.
S. P. Garren, Tyler.
R. T. PICKENS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
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.
DR. J. R. JOHNSON,
Physician and Surgeon
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.
ATTOMEYS AT LATV
Will practice in Blue Ridge Cironii, County
* ( ourt of Gilmer County. Legal
solicited. ‘TronoptniM” i* our motto.
OR. J. S. TANKERSLEY.
Physician and Surgeon,
Tenders his professional services to the Vi ti
fens of EMij&y, Gilmer and surrounding oon*\
ties. All calls promptly attended to. Office
upstairs over the Arm of Cobb Son. ___
ftu ft WALDO THORNTON. D.D.S.
Will visit Ellij&y and Morganton at
both the Spring and Fall term of the
Superior Court—and oftener by special
contract, when sufficient work is guar
anteed to justify me in making the visit.
Address aa above. TmavffVla
Bristles, Scratches, Contracted
Lumbago, Sprains, Muscles,
Barns, Stitches, Hoof Ail,
Bcalds, Stiff Joints, Screw
Stings, Backache, Worms,
Bites, Calls, Swinncy,
Braises, Sores, Saddle Galls,
B anions, Spavin Files.
Corns, Cracks. CakedSreasta
For MAN or BEAST, Rub it in
VIGOROUSLY ! t
BOOKS, THREE CENTS EACH!
Tho following books are published la peat pamphlet form, printed from pood readable type on pood
paper, and many of them handsomely illustrated. They are without exception the cheapest books ever pub-
ia any land or language, and furnish to tho xo&sses of the people an opportunity to secure the best
literature of the dav at the most trifling expense. In any other series great works would cost manjr
times the price at which they are here offered. Each one is complete iu itself:
Wonder* of the World, Natural and Otbkh. Con- The Foreelllnl HuMe*. J NowH. ByM. T.Cai.do.
tain* d<?acr'.ptions nd tllu*trtlon* of the moat wonderful The Oid Oaken Cheat. A Novel. BySri-VANU* Cobb, Jr.
works of nature *nd of m*n. Very inttreetlng and ln*irnttlve. The Pearl of the Ocean. A Novel. By Claba Auoubta.
Wonders of the Ncil A description of th many wonder- Hollow Ash IIuIL A Wovel. By Maboaost Blount.
fnl sn-1 beautiful thing* found At tbo bottom ef the ocean, with Illustrated.
prof us* illu-tretl odi. CHtTe House. A Novel. By Etta W. Pißsrr.
“A PlesMure Exertion," and Other Nketeheo. By Under tho Lilac*. A Novel. I>y tho author of Dora
•‘Jooiah Ali.ks’s Wife.” A collection of irroototlbly fanny Thorn*." n—w
Bketrhoo by the m#t popular humcrouo writer of tho day. Tho Diamond Bracelet* A Novel. By lire. llcnbt
The Aunt Kcztah I*opera, byClaea Acocbta. anther Wood. Illustrated. . ■ . .
of •• Tli* Hugg Documents.” A rooet ridlcnlonsly funny book The I.nwyer’*Secret. A Kovel. By M. E. Bbaddo*.
—lnevery w*y lo “Widow Bedo-.t.'* The Stranne fiue of Dr. Jokyll mad Mr. Hyde. A
t'hrUtma* by Ciiabi ks Dtcxrw*. Contains a Novel. By K. L. St*vbnbon. _ „
number of th* most ciiertnlnff Christine* stcrie* ever written A Wicked OlrL A Novel.
by tha greatest wr'ter who overlived. Each on* toromplue. Lndy \*3 worth** Diamond*. A Novel. By Tng
Koaad the Evening I.mp A book of *torle*,pictures, Digram.” a Novel Bv the eothor 1 - Dor*
pilixloeend Hem**, far the Hut* (oik***home. Between Two Bln*. A Novel. By the eotnor •* nor*
Popular ItoeltAtlone and Dlologne*, homomne. dr.m* Thonm.”
Uc end pathetic. Including *ll th# leieet. hvet end most popula-. The Wine of Hearty A Kovel By B. 1.. Tsnjmou.
The t*eJf-mede Men ef Modem Time*. Cobulbi i*r- Hori‘ • f ort*ne. A Novel. By Blomncb Wa****.
treiu end biographies or fmon* eelf tied* American*.from the A JLo Marriage. A hovel. br£ Uri ec*. Ittus
t meo r rrenkilß to th* The Unllty Klverw A Novel. By witai* Collin*.
Familiar Quotation*. Ccstelnlu* the origin end author- Th* Poieun or Aeae. AKofd. By rLo*c* Masaiat.
ehiuof msBV niiraive frequently met lnr**dlßg sad con vers* Moat (iranro A Novel. By kn. Htmv Wood.
Forcing tfT Fetter*. A Novel. By MnA unsworn.
Law Life la lf*w York, a series of vivid pen ptetwr** A Playwright's BnaghUr. A Novel. By Mrs. A*aia
ehvwln* the dark rid* of Wi la th* great city. /Uusiraud. lyre*©*. JUustrated. .Bikor of “Dor*
The Koad to Woalth. Not an sdvertleisc circular. Fair hat Falee. A Novel. By th* sstkor or Dor*
hat * thoro*hly practical work, potstlac © • way hy Thor**. Illu.tr.,*d v
which all may metemosoy. mstly. ropld’y *t>d honestly Laaessteria Cabin. A KemL By Mr*. M.T.Vieroa.
One llui dred Popnlar Maaga, eontlmvntol.pothetlo JtUstrated . Un „ A , T
•ad comic, included most ef lb* fevortte*. new and eld. Florence lylagton a Oalh. A Novel. By nr*, mast
Jgvariiii ?.. * T . c—
vWa will i*n4 aeffenref the ahwre book* by mail post-paid xipon receipt of only IS Cent*i any fm for
M fentsiary hi<tntw far &O Conte t 'be enUro list (*0 book#) for Til CnMt*|tld entire liet bound In board!
THE ELLIJAY COURIER.
Th© Rvrcet pum, at* gathered from a tree of the
gfijnu name, growing along the smull ntreams In
trie Southern States, contains n stimulating ox<
•ectorant principle that loosens the phlegm pro*
tlm ing the early morning cough, ana stimulate*
the child to throw offthc false membrane in croup
©nd whooping-cough. Whon combined with tho
Healing mucilaginous principle in the mullein
Stlant of the old llelds, presents in TAyi,or*§
Mi KitoKKi: Remedy ok sweet Gum ani> Mitl*
-El N the finest known remedy for Coughs, Croup,
Vliooping-cough and consumption; and so pala
(atde, any child is pleased to take it. Ask Shv
iruagist for it. Ihico £.'**•. and #1.00..
The BEST PIANOS and ORGANS
IN THE WORLD
Are manufactured and sold tor the least money
L '--’ 1 •
THE BEST ARE THE CHEAPEST.
K)IANO ORGAN CO.
UENrxoK this paper.
FACTS YOU CAN BET ON.
That the oldest and largest tobacco factory in tho
world is in Jersey City, N. J.
That this factory makes the popular and world
famed Climax Plug, the acknowledged stand
ard for first-class chewing tobacco.
That this factory was established ms long ago aa
That last year (xBB<3) it made and sold the enormou*
* quantity of 27,982,280 lbs. or fourteen thou
sand tons of tobacco.
That this was more than one-seventh of all the to
bacco made in the United States notwith
standing that there were 966 factories at work.
That in the last 21 years this factory has helped
support the United States Government to the
extent oflbver Forty-four million seven hun
dred thousand dollars ($44,700,000.00) pall
into the U. S. Treasury in Internal Revenue
That the pay-roll of this factory is about f 1,000,-
000.00 per year or $20,000.00 per week.
That this factory employs about 3,500 operatives.
That this factory makes such a wonderfully good
chew in Climax Plug that many other factories
have tried to imitate it in vain, and in despair
now try to attract custom by offering larger
pieces of inferior goods for the same price#
That this factory nevertheless continues to increase
its business every year.
That this factory belongs to and is operated by
Yours, very truly,
P. LORILLARD & CO.
name on a package of COFFEE is a
guarantee of excellence-
COFFEE is kept in all flret-olass
stores from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
is never good when exposed to the air.
Always buy this brand in hermetically
sealed ONE POUND PACKAGES.
LIGHT AND SHADOW.
Wo light e’er shines without Its shadow casting
A gloom as deep and dark, the other way.
No earthly beam can make its force so lasting.
But that the night may shroud its fading
witll"U* it* sln.lcl WMT'W.
... hi - .
!( '* in it- -1-m i’ -
".■'A - ■ r ’!
squalor where the poor reside.
At the first dawn of the creation,
Tho evoning and the morning made the
So thro’ the world in every rank and station,
Tho light and shadow hold alternate sway.
Here though the shades thoir sombre palls
We should not droop or falter thro’ despair.
Here though tho frosts tho sweetest buds
Thoir shadows como not, for no light is
BY J. L. HARBOUR.
We were all very glad when Grand
mother Ryder came (o live at our house.
She was my mother’s, mother, nud one of
tho best-intcntioncd Tittle old women in
the world. When grandfather died, my
brothers and sisters, as well as myself,
wereafraid thatgiundmother Would make
her home at our Undo Nat’s or at our
Aunt Mary’s, and there was great re
joicing when the letter came in which
“1 did think at first that I’d better go
to Mary’s, hut the grounds in my colTcc
cup never pointed favorably to it, and
last night I had a dream that I’ve dremp
three times running, that made it clear to
my mind that I’d better come to you. 1
would start to-morrow if it wasn’t Fri
day, and I sometimes think tho Friday
sign runs into Saturday, too; so I will
not start until Monday, which will bring
me to your house on the day the moon
fulls, and I take that to be a good sign.”
An amused smile came into father’s
face as read this letter aloud to us chil
dren, and he burst out laughing when I
.“I’d just like to knew what coffee set
tlings and dreams and the moon have to
do with it?”,
.“Nothing, my dear; nothing at all,”
said mother, laughing softly. “Hut
grandmother has odd notions that we
need not say anything about, or mind at
all, when she is here.”
We lived in the country on a splendid
farm. On tho next Wednesday afternoon,
to our great delight, we saw father driv
ing up the long lane leading to our house,
with Grandmother Ryder seated on the
spring seat by his side.
She waved her handcrchief, and six
eager children set off on a run to meet
her. W 3 had not seen her for three
years, and as soon ns we were near enough
to hear she began saying:
“Why, bless my soul, how you have
growed! I declare I don’t know tother
from which, but I guess that's Bertie,
and that little girl with the ruffled apron
is Mamie, and that’s Tommy with the
red ribbon to his neck. Looks ’zactly
like the ambrotype of him I’ve got.
Bless all your little hearts, anyhow!
I’ll know which is which ’foro two
When father helped her out of the
wagon she struck her foot on something,
and would have fallen had he not caught
“Mercy on u* 1” she said. “I’m glad I
stubbed my right toe. If it had been
the left it’d been a sure sign I was going
where I wasn’t wanted.”
“You know that you are wanted here,
no matter what the signs say,” said
mother, as she took grandma into her
arms and kissed her many times.
“Yes, dear, I know it, I know it,"
said grandma; “but all the same, I
couldn't have helped worryin’ Some if it
had been the left toe.”
TVe soon discovered that grandmother
had a sign for every thing that happened,
and for much that didn’t happen. When
nything unusual occurred graudma sud
denly recalled something in the manner
in which she had previously been fore
warned of it. The fact that her signs
and predictions generally failed of fulfil
ment did not disturb her in the least.
One day I overheard mother say:
“Don’t you often notice, grandma, that
your signs do not come true? You said
yesterday when you saw the cat scratch
ing the fence, that it would rain, sure,
before night; but there was not a cloud
in the sky all dav, and not a drop of rain
“Why, Susan!” cried grandma, in a
tone of great surprise. “The morning
paper says there was a perfect flood yes
terday in Alabama”
The proof was incontrovertible, not
withstanding the fact that Alabama was
fiteen hundred miles from our home.
My youngest brother was but three
months old when grandma became a
member of our family. She was very
fond of baby Danny, and was gratified
to know that the signs she had had re
garding him were favorable to his future
“If he lives to grow up,” she said,
“he’ll be a smart and a rich man. See
that mole on his neck. That’s a splen
did sign. And he’s going to have a
‘cow-lick’ too; that’s another good sign.
I hope to goodness, Susan, that you
haven’t allowed him to look in a look
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said
“Why, Susan,” cried grandma, “he
must not see himself in the glass until
his first birthday! You’ll never raise him
if he does. I'm glad he’s already tumbled
out of lied; it’s a sure sign he’ll never be
Grandmother's signs and omens were a
f source of uneasiness to herself only.
| Mother early took occasion, privately,
to instruct its older children on the sub
ject She told us dreams had no mean*
ing, and that “s'gns” were silly and
meaningless invention*. We were not,
Write us for Illustrated Catalogue, Free.
“A MAP OP BUST Ur/C—iTß
ELLIJAY. GA.. THURSDAY. APRIL 19. 1888.
die said, to mind what grandma said,but
were to love and respect her -Under all
Baby Dan was a winning little fellow,
whom we all loved so dearly that we wero
glad grandma's omens did not portend
anything disastrous to him, evon though
we did not believe in signs. But one
day grandma came down to breakfast
without her usual morning smile and
cheery greeting. She looked verv solemn,
and spoke soberly when the spoke at all.
“ Arc you not well?” askea father.
“ I hope this whole family may keep
as well for a year to come as I am now,”
she said, mysteriously.
Baby Dan sat in his high chair by
grandma’s side, and in the midst of the
morning meal she suddenly dropped her
knife and fork, threw her arms around
the baby, and burst into tears.
“ Why, grandma, whst is it! ” cried
mother in real alarm. .
"Poor ltttle dear, ’’ she cried; “he
ain’t long for this world! I’ve dreamed
three nights of white colts. I toil you,
Susan, what’d happen ifyou cut his too-,
nails of a Sunday, or let the othor
children raise your parasol in the house.
I told you! ”
Grandma’s distress was so evident that
none of us felt like laughing, and mother
“ Don’t worry, mother. You know
that all signs fail at times.”
“Mino don’t,” said grandma, in atone
of deep conviction. “ And as I was lay
ing in bod this morning, a little bird flew
in at the window, and lighted on- my
bedpost. I know what that means,
Susan. Danny ain’t going to bo here very
long; you’ll see that he isn’t. And tho
worst of it is that ho’ll be took off sud
den, and in some uncommon way.”
No reasoning could shako grand
mother’s conviction in'the least, nnd her
continued depression and gloomy predic
tions mado us all very uucomfortable.
Indeed, so strong is a superstition that
not one 1 of us children could help look
ing upon dear little Dan as a doomed
child, in spite of mother’s arguments to
Grandmother had othor unfailing signs
indicating Danny's early demise. A
white kitten came to the door ono day,
and grandma shook her head gloomily.
“But I have always heard that was a
sign of good luck to have a kitten como
to the house,” said father.
“Not a white k tten,” replied Grand
ma. “A black or gray kitten is a good
sign, but a white ono is a sign of”—
She stooped over, caught Danny up in
-her arms, and hastily left the room.
An old white rooster that we had,
crowed on tho doorstep that day, and
grandma ordered his iestant execution
as the only means of averting his share
of the disaster threatening Danny.
Grandma’s signs multiplied fast, and
were of a positive, never-failing charac
ter. She camo down to breakfast one
beautiful Juno morning*, bowed down
with the dreadful conviction that tho
end would come that very day.
•Danny’s warrant an
expectation of death from disease,' at all
events. He seemed ‘.o he snnpping his
littlo pink fingers at all kinds of signs as
he lay in Ins cradle, kicking up his heels
nnd crowing gleefully. He was almost
a year old at* this time, and grandma
had said that he would never live to see
his first birthday.
During the forenoon we were visited
hy several of our relatives who had
driven a distance of ten miles to spend
the day at our house. We were delighted J
to see them and gave ourselves up to a
day of enjoyment. Even grandma joined
in our pleasure, seeming to forget her |
doleful prophecies of what the day would ,
After dinner, which was the great
event of the day, the entire family, with
the exception of grandma and baby Dan,
strolled out into the orchard with our
visitors. From the orchard wo went on
over a narrow bit of meadow land in
search of wild strawberries, which wero
Then we went up a grassy hillside and
into a little grove of oaks and elms.
There we all sat down on the grass and
enjoyed what we called “a real so-iable
time,” until father, bethought him to
look at his watch, and said:
“Why, it’s nearly four o'clock. We
have been away three hours. Danny <
will have quite worn grandmother out
with tho care of him. We must hurry
When we reached the house we found
grandma fast asleep in her rocking-chair
on the piazza, a lock of her gray hair
blown over her face by the June wind,
and her wrinkled hands crossed peace
fully in the sunshine that fell across her
lap. She heard our footsteps and was
awake in an instant.
“Where is Danny?" asked the mother.
“It isn’t possible that he has slept all
“I guess he has,” said grandma; “I
haint heard a sound from him.”
Mother Rtepncd hurriedly into the
room in which Danny always took his
uqpnday nap. She came out instantly,
quite pale, and saying, in a trembling
voice: “He isn’t there; he’s gone!”
“What—did—you—say, Susan?” asked
grandmother rising to her feet and speak
ing with painful deliberation.
“He’s gone!"said mother again.
Grandmother gave a low moan, sank
hack in her chair, and said solemnly: “I
knew it would be so. Y'ou laughed at
my signs, Susan. You wouldn’t hear
to them. I feel in my bones that Danny
Bertram will never be seen again on this
earth. The signs don’t fail me.”
I semember that I set up a dreadful
howl, in which I was joined hy my
brothers and sisters. Father and our
friends began an immediate and thor
ough search for Danny, hut no trace of
him could he found.
Grandmother encouraged us by saying,
from time to time, between her broken
sobs: “It’s no use to hunt for him. He’s
gone. He’ll never he seen again on this
Mother broke down entirely after a
short time, and lay crying on a lounge,
with one of my aunts bathing her tem
ples and talking soothingly to her.
We looked everywhere—in places that
the little feet could never have strayed
"In the highest and the lowest and the lone
They eagerly sought, but they found him
“It looks tome like a case of kidnap
ping,” said one of my visitiug uncles to
“So it docs," said father; “and yet ft
don’t seem possible that”—
“It ain't possible, David,” interrupt
ed grandmother. “I'iu satisfied that I
AND ITS I 'AST VOSCSRNS."
hadn’t been aularp ten mir.utea whan
you folks came home, and I know that
no one was near the house liefore you !
came. No, no, David, human hand* 1
never touched our Danuy. I didn’t |
dream of white colts with four wings
apiece, for nothing.”
“What on earth would colts of any
kind want with Danny?" asked ono of
An hour and more passed, and Danny
was not found. Wo hurriod to the near
est neighbors. They had not seen any
suspicions characters in tho noighlmr-'
hood, and knew nothiug about Dauny’s
disappearance. They came to Our house
in great numbers, full of sympathy and
harrowing rcminisccnses of similar dis
appearances in which tho missing chil
dren were either found dead or wero
never found at all.
The evening drew on. The sun went
down. Mother had said ovor and ovor
again that wo must find her baby lftfi.ro
night came on. She could not cuduro
the thought of having him away when
tho darkness camo. Father began to
grow pail and his voice trembled when
Parties of men and boys wero search
ing tho neighboring woods and planning
to dragf the streams. It was noarly dark,
and we were sitting, tearful and anxious,
in mother’s room, when we heard a loud
In a moment the door was thrown open
and there stood our big, jolly Undo
Darius Bertram, nnd, high on his shoul
der, laughing and ranking a desperato
effort to talk, sat—Danny!
‘‘Well, such a time and nobody to it 1"
said Uncle Darius, as ho put Danny into
mother’s outstretched arms.
“O Darifis! where did you find him?”
“I found him lying in his bed about
half-past three this afternoon. My wife
tmil I wero driving into town and called
hero to see you, but found no one at
home but grandmother and baby. Grand
mother was asleep and baby seemed to
bo having a lonely sort of time Of it
kicking up his heels in his crad'o. So
wife aud I thought we’d take him out
for an airing, the day being so fine. I
wrote a little note on a loaf of my pocket
diary, telling you. wo had him. Didn’t
you find it?”
“No," said father; “whoro did you
“Why, I pinned it to baby’s pillow,
didn’t I? I know wife said for me to.
But I’m such a forgetful follow tlmt I
don’t know really where I did put that
note. It was written on a small leaf liko
this.” lie drew out his pocket-diary as
lie spoke, opened it and sat down look
ing very foolish.
“Well, I swan!” he said; “ef I didn’t
clean forget to tear the note after I’d
written it. I must bo getting loony!”
“We were detained in the village much
longer than wo expected,” said Aunt
Harriet, Uncle Darius’s wife; “and I was
afraid yog would worry about baby, but
,he has been just as good as ho could bo,
aAt ho scomed-toenjo.y -tho ride so very
much. I couldn’t find Iris cloak to put
on him, but I had a light shawl with mo,
and I found his littlo ever-day sunbon
nct out in the yard. It was good enough
to wear. To think of the anxiety tho
little chap’s ride has cost you I”
Grandmother was down on her knees
crying over Danny, and of course not
one of said a word to her about those
unfulfilled omens. It was months be
fore the words “signs” and “omens”
passed her lips. Then she spoke of them
as though they were things beneath her
They certainly had no power over
Danny, for I have often heard him tell
ing this story to his own children.—
J. H. Inman, a former fur contracting
agent of the Hudson’s Bay Company,
said to a New York Sun reporter:
“While I believe that a grizzly boar
will in a majority of cases wait for a
fight with a man and take pains to get
in tho way of one, there are times when
it will seem to think better of it and
back out. A remarkable instance of this
kind I heard of once, whero a famous
Manitoba guide courageously advanced
upon three grizzlies, an old she ono and
two half-grown yo'iDg hears, nnd by a
scries of ridiculous monkey-shines and
acrobatic maneuvers on the ground with
in a rod or two of the bears filled them
with such astonishment and apparent
fear shat the three retreated into tho
woods with all rapidity. The guide’s
gun had snapped in both barrels, lie hav
ing drawn on the old hour before the
young ones appeared. Ho afterward said
that it was in a lit of desperation that he
tried the turning of a handspring and
jumping up and down, flopping his
hands, and resorting to other unhuntcr
likc measures, lie had been told once
that a hunter had frightened a mountain
lion away by similar absurd movements,
aud he found that it worked to perfection
in the ease of the bears, although he did
not encourage anyone to go hunting
grizzlies armed with nothing more than
a capacity to turn somersaults.”
New Economical Flantg.
The Directors of the Stharumpur Gar
dens, India, are cultivating a number of
new plants, for acclimatization. Among
them is the Acacia Senegal, which, be
sides yielding the best gum-arabic, fur
nishes a reddish-brown wood,* which
takes on a tine polish, and is used for
weavers’ shuttles. The Ccdula adorata,
or West Indian cedar, lias a light wood
of a mahogany color, even-grained,easily
worked, and fragrant—the wood from
which Havana cigar-boxes are made.
Cenclieris catharticus is a much-valued
fodder-plant, which grows in sandy
dcsert tracts. It is the Tuart of Austra
lia, a tree of magnificent proportions,
which furnishes most excellent hard
wood timber. The Myricas, or wax
myrtles, of North and South America,
arc cultivated for the waxy exudations
on their fruits, from which tho wax
is separated by boiling and skimming.
The fruits of the Snpindus saponaria, or
West Indian soap-berry, contain a large
quantity of a saponaceous matter, which
is used for washing clothes. Tha hard,
round, black seeds are worn as beds for
necklaces. —Popular Science Monthly.
England has thirty-four Judges whe
are each in receipt of n salary ranging
from $28,000 to $50,000, and together
draw SOIO,OOO a ycSar from tho Treasury.
Tho eighty Judges in the courts of tks
United States sro paid from $3,500 tt
$10,500* year, su aggregate of $318,000.
BUDGET OF FUN.
Hl’MonOt’9 RKKTCHKS FROM
VARIOUS SOI KCKS.
Not of Much Account— A Slight
Was a Married
A gentleman buying a morning pajier
of an old woman gave her a 10 cent
“I have no change; you can pay me to
“But suppose I get thrown off the
“Oh!" replied tho good woman,
thinking only of her 2 cents, “it wouldn’t
be such a terrible loss."— Judge.
A Slight Difference.
“How docs tho market look?” inquired
Paterfamilias of a young Stock Excitangc
man who was calling on the old man’s
“Flourishing, sir. I am a bull from
At this instant the young Indy entered,
her fuco wreathed in sweetest smillos;
but before alio could opon her mouth her
young brother Tom shouted:
“Say, Lizzie, Mr. Price says he is a
hull. You said last night that he was
nothing but a calf I” —Few York Sun.
Little Johnny (ontertaining young
man in pnrlor)—“My sistor thinks you’ve
got beautiful teeth.”
Mr.Hunkinson (highly pleased)—“Ahl
what have you ovor heard Miss Irene say
of them, Johnny?" ,
Johnny—“Bho says she thinks tho up
per set didn’t cost less than $23, and
she doesn’t blame you for not catiug
maple caramels. I liko caramels, Mr.
llankiuson. Got any?" —Chicago Tri
He Was a Married Man.
A lady carrying an umbrella entered
the street car, but before sho could take
a seat, tho car plunged forward with an
awkward jerk. Tho lady, in attempting
to retain her equilibrium, whacked her
umbrella against the head of a gentle
"Oh, sir, I beg a thousand pardons,
Sir. These drivers are so careless. Hope
you are not seriously injured, sir.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I’m a married man
and am used to little knocks like that."—
Detroit Free Pres).
Addition and Silence.
Binks was calling on tho apple of his
eye. He picked up a volume of “Lucille"
and ran across an inscription on a fly
“Ah! a present?” ho remarked.
“ Yes, from a dear friond, oh, over so
long ago—seven or eight years.’’
“ So long as that? ’’
“ Oh, yes. I was quito a little girl.”
IVhen three weeks had gone liy without
the regular e. o. and. appearance of Binks,
and it began to look as though he really
meant it, she looked up tho book nnd
found tho explanation in the inscription.
“To Miss Clara on her 20th birthday."
That fly leaf is torn but now. —Chicago
He Only Wanted to Seo.
Judge Gerald Cummings is a rcspectod
resident of Fort Worth, Texas, notwith
standing that he is immensely stout and
u member of the legal profession. 110
tried many anti-fat remedies to rcduco
his weight, but without any satisfactory
result. Ife finally went to tho Hot
Springs in Arknnsaw, ami much to his
joy ho lost considerable adipose tissuo,
and returned to Fort Worth in a most
happy frame of mind. He thought and
talked of nothing else except his loss of
Ho went to market one morning re
cently and said to the butcher:
*, “ Cut me off twenty pounds of pork.”
The request was complied with. Tho
Judge looked at the ilicat for some time
and then walked off.
“ Shall I send the meat to your house,
Judge? "asked tho butcher.
“No,” was tho reply, “I don’t want
it. I have fallen off just twenty pounds,
and I only wanted to see how much it
was. —Texas Siftings.
Capturing a Scltoolnia'ain.
Y’cs, said the young man, as he throw
himself at the feet of tho pretty school
teacher, “I love you nnd would go to tho
world’s end for you.”
“You could not go to the end of tho
world for me, James. The world, or
the earth, as it is called, is round like n
hall, slightly flattened at the poles. One
of tho first lessons in tho elementary
gedgraphy is devoted to tho shape of tho
globe. Y’ou must have studied it when
you wero ahoy.”
“Df course 1 did, hut ”
“And it is no longer a theory. Cir
cumnavigators have established the
“I know, hut what I meant was that
I would do anything to please you. Ah!
Minerva, if you knew the aching
“There is no such thing as a void,
James. Nature abhors a vacum; hut
admitting that there could he such a
thing, how could the void you speak of
be a void if there was an aeho in it?”
“I meant to say that my life will bo
lonely without you, that you arc my daily
thought nnd my nightly dream. I would
go anywhere to he with you. If you
were in Australia or at tho North Pole I
would fly to you. I ”
“Fly! It will he another century be
fore men can fly. Even when the laws
of gravitation are successfully overcome
there will still remain, says a late sci
entific authority, the difficulty of main
taining a balance ”
“Well, at all events,” exclaimed the
youth, “I’ve got a pretty fair balance in
the savings bank nnd I want you to be
my wife. There!”
“Well, James, since you put in that
light, I ”
Let the curtain tell. —Boston Courier.
Coots Was Fooled.
In the basement of Police Headquarters
is a room where the officers in charge of
the jtatrol wagon lounge about while
waiting for a signal. To while away the
time a table aud a box of dominoes
have !>ccn procured. hast evening
Boh Schemanaky, Mike Kinney, Rounds
man Shomaker and Pat Murnano were
sljM For Aura, Is A 4 tun*.
playing dominoes and Ben Coots m
looking on. Coots became so deeply in
terested in the game, and eo excited over
the playing that he soon dropped asleep.
“Now let us pay Coots off for that
beastly drram he had when he took gas
to have his tooth pulled, ” said & heman
The plan was soon perfected. Beach
ing up, Murnano turned oat the gas.
Then the game, to all intents, went on
as before. The room was in pitch dark
ness, but tho dominoes were shuffled,
each player drew five, one set and the
play went on.
“Double five; count ten.”
“Five or nothing, eh? That somls mo
to the woodpile.
“Five, blank; give us ten.”
Somebody purposely trod on Coot’s
toe, and he awaked with a snort, rubbing
his eyes. The game went on. ,
“Twelve, tray; give us fiftoon.” ..,
“Throw me a bone there.”
“Fifteo- and five; give ns twenty."
“Why boys," exclaimed Coots, “are
you playing dominoes?”
‘tAre we playing dominoes? That’* a
bright question to ask. Don’t you seo
we are? Douce, tray, give us five."
“I hear you, but I can’t see you."
“Can’t see us? Why,what’s the mat
“I don’t know, but it’s a fact, boys, I
can’t see anything at all.”
“Yes, sir; he’s blind."
“Hold on," said Murnano; “I know
whnt to do. I remember just such a caso
in Ireland. A lot of us young chaps
were out one cold night to the killing of
a landlord, and after tho festivities wo
wont over to tho house of a widow
named Garrity. Ono of tho boys hadn’t
been in the warm room more than five
minutes when he was struck hliud as a
l-at. But in loss than fivo minutes the
widow had him out of it and all right.
It’s a lucky thing I remember the atfair.
Hero, Coots, lay yourself straight across
tho tablo; let your head hang ovor, so
that tho blood will rush into it. There,
now, I’ll pass my bauds over your oyos
liko this; see?”
Coots was lifted bodily before ho had
timo to object, bent ovor tho tablo and
Murnano kegau making magnetic passes
over his eyes. Bchumansky reached up
and slyly lit tho gas.
“Oh, I begin to seel I begin to seel”
exclaimed tho patrol driver.
In n few moments, it is needless to
say, Coots‘s sight had boon rostored to
hint, and he warmly grasped the hands
of all present in token of his sincere
Tronblo With a Codfish.
Wo accopted tho urgont invitation of
tho frorentan of tho Crook county (Wy.)
stock ranch to stop and take dinner with
him one afternoon. As wo sat down to
the meal ho passed a suspicious looking
dish and said:
“That’s what they call codfish.”
“CodfislMtlways goes to tho rigid spot
with mo,” fejftcd Briar, politely.
“That may not, though,” continued
our host as he wiped his knife on his
boot leg before helping himself to Bomo
butter. ‘ ‘l’ve had the greatest time rust
lin’ with that air critter of a fish that I
ever had in all tho cookin’ I overdone."
“What was the troublo with it?”
“So thunderin’ saltl This is tho
fourth or fifth whack I’ve took at it,
tryin’ to git up a mess that wo could
eat, 'tliout goin’ down to a deep place
in the creek an’ standin’ in tho water up
to our necks the rest of tho day.”
“It was worse than they usually are,
“Worso’n I’ve ever tackled, anyhow.
You, see, I sent down after it by Shorty,
hero, and I told him to git a big un—
we’d been havin’ bacon ovory meal bo
twcou threo and four years, an’ I was
bound to have a change or bust. Shorty
packed it homo tied onto thu suddlo, au’
when ho brought it in and dusted it off
with his hat and looked at it, I says:
“Shorty, she’s a dandy I Codfish for
breakfast or I'm u Mexican?" It wasn’t
no slouch of a fish, oithor; it was long
nod well put up, a littlo heavy in front,
I thought, but then tho fish ain’t built
like n steer or boss. It’s head was cut
oil and it was nil dressed in good shape,
only its tail was left on, but Shorty said
that was to handle it by; an’ then he
tried to pound mo over the head with it
iu fun, but I yanked it away from him
and hung it up by my AVinchester whero
the dogs couldn't get it, and loft it there
for the night.
“Next momin’ wo go up early an’ cut
off a steak from 'round tho neck of our
fish, cooked it, slapped it onto the table
an’yelled ‘Breakfast!’ Then we waded
I into it. Ittastod a deal liko takin’ a big
I lump of salt on your fork, bitin’ off a
mouthful, chewin’ ’n’ swallorin’ it, an’
goin’ for it again 1 Tho boys kicked,
but I told ’em codfish was al’ays salt, an*
so wo cleaned it out at last. Then wo
went down to the creek an’ sort o’ laid
'round till noon au’ robbed tho 2,000
head o’ cattle there is on tho ranch of
tho water they ortcr had. I never saw
nothing hang by a feller liko that tisß
did. ’Bcut- noon I come back up an’
put the critter to soak in a water bar’l.
Wo left it there till the next momin’ an*
tackled it again. Still too salt. Then
I left it two days an’ took another whack
at it. Couldn’t go it yet. Then I tied
one end of alar’at round its tail an’ let it
down in the well and left it a week., By
that time the water was so salty wo
couldn’t use it, but it hadn't freshened
the cod enough to speak of. Then I hove
I it upon the roof an’ let it rain on it a
, couple o’ times an’ afterward Fared it up
on a pole in front o’ the shack an’ let the
wind kinder blow through its whiskers
for a few days. It seemed to be gettin’
; some better, but we still went in more on
bacon than we did on fish. I was mad
by this time an’took it to the-creek an’
staked it down to the bottom, where tho
current was rapid, an’ said if it didn’t
spoil the water for the stock I’d leave
it there a month. It staid there till yes
terday, when one o’ the boys brought it
up. It was gettin’ quite soft an’ limber
like, an’ I reckon we’ve downed it at
last. It may be a little water soaked, but
the salt is knocked. I tell you the ocean
must be a powerful sight saltier than I
ever’lowed it was to git a fish loaded
plumb full of it liko this un was. This
ranch buys fresh water fish after this.
I’ll be hanged if I blievo a fish is fit to
eat after it’s swum ’round in salt water
mebby ten years an’ got it all soaked
through it. I should think they’d have
scales on ’em to kinder keep it out partly."
Professor Proctor thinks the Interest in
astronomy it on the wane.