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DEVILTRIES.
—A home-ruler—A wife.
—A notorious eavesdropper—Rain.
—Felt hats—Those worn on a sore
head.
—The author of “ The Vagabonds”—
Whiskey.
—Stone & Wall are building a stone
wall at Augusta.
—Can any one decline the exact width
of a narrow escape ?
—Adam missed one of the luxuries of
life. lie couldn’t laugh in his sleeve.
—Brigham Young, it is suggested,
should write a book on how to pop the
question.
—The man who gathers the names fora
Russian directory is the hardest worked
man in the empire.—
Jonah, we feel constrained to de.
dare, was certainly the first and a great
success in the emetic line.
—Young and fair. That is, tolerably
good looking, when painted and powder
ed and frizzled and panniered.
—Brigham Young will begin celebrat
ing his silver wedding next Monday, and
it will be about three years before he gets
through with it.
—An Irishman, seeing bis friend lying
drunk in the gutter, exclaimed, “Ah,
poor Jamie, an’ surely I wish I could
take half your disease on ineself.”
—An indiscriminate slaughter of dogs
is threatening. All right, but recollect
that every dog killed leaves several hun
dred fleas to be cared for and amused.
—Charles O’Conor has given a calm
judicial opinion that there are too many
lawyers. A suspicion of that fact has
been creeping into the popular brain for
soiuu time.
—When a man complained of hotels
built with no means of getting out in case
of fire, Hopkins said that did not bother
him so much as a hotel with no means of
staying there.
—“ What is editorial courtesy?” asks
an exchange. Why, it is when an editor
is caught stealing chickens at midnight,
and his brother editor kindly alludes to
the matter as a strange freak of a som
nambulist.
—An Oshkosh woman gave birth to
' . • :d next morning her husband
too*, a package to the drug store and
said . “ Give ine some old-fashioned win
dow-pane—not any more blue glass in
taaiily.”
-An impatient boy, while waiting for
•A- grist at the mill, said to the miller:
I • mid eat the meal as fast as your mill
grinds it!” “How long could you do
so.”’ asked the miller. “Till 1 was star
ved to death,” retorted the boy.
—Extract from a letter from Atchison,
Kansas : “ The ground is tremendously
dry here; the big rain of last week did
not reach the ground ; the grasshoppers
stood on their hind legs and drank the
water as fast as it fell. So lam told.”
—The terrible fires which recently de
vastated the northern part of New York
are not the only disaster visited upon
that afflicted State lately. Two hundred
and sixty-four lawyers were graduated
at Columbia College and turned loose
hungry upon the community last week.
—Brown, who was iu love with a lady,
asked permission to call her by the ex
plicit name of some animal, which was
granted on condition that she should
have the same privilege. On leaving,
Brown said, “ Good night, deer.” “Good
night, boar,” she said. Brown is disgus
ted with figurative courtship.
—An Irishman, who had been sick a
long time, was one day met by the par
ish priest, when the following conversa
tion took place: “ Well, Patrick, lam
glad you have recovered ; but were you
not afraid to meet your God ?” “ Oh,
no, ye Riverance, it was mating the other
chap that I was afeared uv!” said Pat.
—“ Is there an opeuing here for an
intellectual writer?” said a very red
faced youth with the cork of a bottle
sticking out of his breastpocket. The ed
itor, with much dignity, took the young
man’s intellect in, and said ; “An open
ing? Yes, sir; a kind and considerate
carpenter, foreseeing your visit, left an
opening for you. Turn the knob to the
right.”
—“ It was at that critical moment of
the battle,” said a Dubuque minister in
an impassioned burst of eloquence last
Sabbath, “ when the Wuke of Dellington
—I mean the Delk of Wulliugteu—l
should say, when the Welk of Dulliugton
—that is, when the Dule of Welkington
at the wattle of Battleloo—er—um.” And
then somehow the passage appeared to
be so badly inangled that he didn’t think
it would pay to repair it, so he said “And
lastly,” and went on.
—A Detroit man went down to a New
York bankrupt sale the other day and
bought a beautiful spring suit imported
goods, worth SBS for $7.50. The first day
he wore it he was caught in a drenching
rain, and then he was walked out in the
sunshine his new clothes began to shrink
up around his shoulders and pulled his
arm out of joint, and his trousers gather
ed themselves up like a balky horse,
picked the man up, walked him
his tip tees for a half a block, and were
just on the point of twisting him clear
over a garden fence, when his suspenders
gave way and let them fly right over his
over his head and he never saw them
again.
BY T. L. GANTT.
FIRST LOVE.
Whom first we love, you know, we seldom wed.
Time rules us all. And life, indeed, is not
The thing we planned it out ere hope was dead;
And then we women cannot choose our lot.
Much must be borne which it is hard to bear,
Much given away which it were sweet to
keep.
God help us all! who need, indeed, Ilis care ;
And yet I know the Shepherd loves His
sheep.
My little boy begins to babble now
Upon my knee his earliest infant prayer ;
He has his father’s eager eyes, I know,
And, they say, too, his mother’s sunny hair.
But when he sleeps and smiles upon my knee,
And I can feel his light breath come and go,
I think of one—Heaven help and pity me—
Who loved me, and whom I loved, long ago.
Who might have been —ah ! what, I dare not
think,
"V\ e are all changed. God judges for us best.
God help us do our duty, and not shrink,
And trust in Heaven humbly for the rest.
But blame us women not if some appear
Too cold, at times, and some too gay and
light;
Some griefs gnaw deep ; some woes are hard
to bear,
Who knows the past? and who can judge
us right ?
Ah ! were we judged by what we might have
been,
And not by what we are—too apt to fall!
My little child—he sleeps and smiles between
These thoughts and me. In heaven we
shall know all.
HOW LITTLE WE KNOW OF EACH
OTHER.
llow little we know of each other
As we pass through the journey of life,
With its struggles, its fears and temptations—
Its heart-breaking fears and its strife.
We can only see things on its surface,
For few people glory in sin,
And an unruffled face is no index
Of the tumult which rages within.
How little we know of each other!
The man who to-day passes by,
Blessed with fortune and honor and titles,
And holding his proud head on high,
May carry a dread secret with him
Which makes of his bosom a hell,
And he, sooner or later, a felon,
May writhe in the prisoner’s cell.
llow little we know of each other!
That woman of fashion, who sneers
At the poor girl betray’d and abandon’d
And left to her sighs and her tears,
May, ere the sun rises to-morrow,
Have the mask rudely torn from her face,
And sink from the height of her glory
To the dark shades of shame and disgrace.
How little we know of each other !
Of ourselves too little we know!
We are all weak when under temptation,
All subject to error and woe.
Then let blessed Charity rule us,
Let in put away envy and spite—
Or the skeleton grim in our closet
May some day be brought to the light.
CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE.
A correspondent writes to the London
Times from Alexandia, Egypt:
“ The dangers which menaced the
English obelisk have all passed away.
Mr. Dimitri, the owner of the land on
which the big stone lies prostrate, up to
two days ago threatened to raise all
kinds of obstacles to its departure. He
put a palisade round the ground, and
refused to allow anything to be done
until he had received a heavy indemnity
for the removal, a proceeding somewhat
inconsistent with his long-standing claim
for damages on account of its non-re
moval. A fortnight ago a gentleman
arrived fi'om Engird to arrange for the
shipment of the obelisk, and he was un
pleasantly surprised when he found how
Mr. Dimitri stopped the way. However,
notwithstanding this display of hostility,
Mr. Dimitry has after all proved a friend,
and not an enemy. After several inter
views with the obelisk party, he hand
somely withdrew all opposition on condi
tion that he should be considered the do
nor of the monument. This condition was
drawn up, and the English nation may
now feel quite sure of its property, as
both the Khedive, owner of the country
and all hidden treasure, and Mr. Dimitri,
owner of the land where the treasure
lies, have each in the most formal man
ner, abandoned all their rights in favor
of England. It now only remains for
Messrs. Dixon to send out their floating
steambox aucl pack up their obelisk and
carry it over the smiling summer seas to
its new home on the banks of the
Thames.”
A recent dispatch says: “ The exhu
mation of the obelisk has been com
pleted. Eighteen inches of the apex
are gone, and the corners are somewhat
damaged, but otherwise it is in fair con
dition.”
Thf Figure Nine. —We attribute to
an Englishman named Will Green, who
died in 1794, the foundation of a singu
lar property of the figure 9. That prop
erty of the figure 9 consists in multiply
ing that number by 2, by 3, by 4, by 5, by
6, by 7, by S, by 9, etc., and we find that
the numbers composing the product of
each of the multiplications added, will
give always 9.
2 times 9 make 18—1 aud 8 make 9.
3 times 9 make 27—2’and 7 make 9.
4 times 9 make 3336 —3 and 6 make 9.
5 times 9 make 45 —1 and 5 make 9.
6 times 9 make 54—5 and 4 make 9.
7 times 9 make 63—6 aud 3 make 9.
8 times 9 make 72—7 and 2 make 9.
9 times 9 make 81—8 and 1 make 9.
LEXINGTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 22, 1877.
STRONG BIG BEN OF CALIFORNIA.
Rending' the Cronlwr That was Hade
to Defy His Strength.
John W. Sutton lectured before the
Manhatten Liberal Club last evening,
about California when in the delirium of
the gold fever. Among the uncouth
miners about him, he said, were “ Big-
Ben” and “ Little Dick,” mates. “ Big
Ben” was far above any man in the min
ing region in stature —burley, and of
wonderful strength, his favorite pass
time being bending crowbars. “ Little
Dick” ws3 a curiosity for the stalwart
miners on account of his smallness; and
a meaner soul was never in a mail weigh
ing eighty pounds. “Little Dick” was
quarrelsome, but cowardly, and “ Big
Ben” had to do the hitting for him. So
although inoffensive and naturally kind,
“Big Ben” got the reputation of a des
perado.
In the mining, boulders too heavy to
be handled by a few men were often en
countered, and when they were, the
proprietors of adjacent claims were invi
ted to assist in removing them. “Big
Ben” was never forgotten, and he did the
work of a half dozen sturdy men. But
after the boulder had been moved nearly
far enough, he commonly thrust the
crowbar well under the boulder and press
ing his shoulder against the crowbar
bent it nearly double. Finally, Jim
Cook, the blacksmith, vowed that he
would weld a crowbar that “ Big Ben”
could not bend. He got up a ponderous
bar of caststeel from ’Frisco, and welded
it into a crowbar. That, sure enough,
“ Big Ben” could not bend. The latter
remembered this, his first defeat to his
dying moment.
There came from the States, to reca
porate, the Doctor’s wife and tiny
daughter, “Birdie.” She became very
fond of “ Big Ben,” and he worshiped her.
Though he was panning or crading with
a glimmer of the yellow specks at the
bottom brightning his eyes he would go
when ‘Bi die” said come Ber,l w ant some
flowers, or pretty stones. For years
afterward, the miners used to say, be
tween the puffs of their evening pipes,
that “ Big Ben” never weakened but once.
It was in front of a saloon. “Little Dick”
was the aggressor, and pistols and bow
ie-knives gleamed. Birdie called, “come
Ben, with me,” and catching her up in
his arms, “ Big Ben” walked away. The
mining camp was beside the bed of a
dried up stream. Across the high banks
a single fallen tree extended, the only
connection between the camp and flow
ery slope beyond the river. One after
noon, as suddenly as streams do return
to their beds, a mighty flood poured
down the bed. The miners saw Birdie
gathering flowers on the opposite slope.
“Big Ben” returning with “Little Dick,”
saw her peril. He shouted “ Dick, go
across and get the child, and I will hold
the bridge.” He put his crowbar into a
crevice beneath the tree, and braced his
massive shoulder against it. Little Dick
darted across the tree, about which the
waters were rising fast, snatched up Bir
die and ran ; and as he darted across it
and sprang to the shore, the tree whirled
down the current and Big Ben fell pros
trate. Bloody foam was on his lips. He
had ruptured a blood vessel. Birdie’s
mother wiped away the foam, and Big
Ben looked up and whispered, “ I have
saved Birdie and bent the bar”—and
died. He had bent the crowbar that Jim
Cook had forged to overtax his strength.
THE GYPSIES MOVING ON.
Edward King writes to the Boston
Journal of the consternation which has
arisen among the inhabitants of Eouma
uia at the expectations that the Turks
will cross the Danube and commit the
same outrages that blackened their arms
in Servia last year. People are fleeing
in all directions away from the banks of
the river. They are not content with a
short distance, but feel safe only when
they have crossed the frontier. Thou
sands of them are now pouring into Aus
tria. The poor, he says, may be seen
tramping along the muddy roads—a
whole family together, sometimes perch
ed in a shabby cart drawn by a melan
choly horse, and sometimes begging pas
sage for a few miles of some slowly mov
ing wagon train. The gypsies of whom
there are as many as 200,000 in Rouma
nia, are moving also. Some of these
gypsie trains are exceedingly comical.
The women, with their matted black hair,
their dark, yellow faees, their queenly
stride, and their scant and tattered gar
ments, marching ahead and singing
shrill songs in their own jargon, which
even Roumania natives cannot under
stand, are strange figures. The father of
the family follows next, aud is usually a
dirty, offensive-looking rascal, often bare
headed, but sometimes capped with the
Wallachian head-gear; his torn girdle
is supplied with a knife, and sometimes
with a long pistol; he wears the opauke
or cowhide sandal, bound on the foot
with innumerable thongs, which is so
universally used in Turkey-in Europe;
for the rest he is a bundle of rags. Be
hind the father the children follow, rid
ing in a cart drawn by a donkey, an old
horse, or a large dog whose temper has
been soured and whose hair has all been
rubbed off by continual hardship and
exposure. The gypsies hate the Turks,
and it will not be an easy task to get
them out of Austria.
HOLD THE FORT.”
Last monday afternoon the seven
Boblink boys surrounded and captured
an enormous, shaggy, strong-smelling,
wieked-looking goat, of the masculine
gender, and turned him loose in Bur
dock’s garden, and nailed up the gate,
and then went home and flattened their
seven little noses against the windows to
watch for coming events.
Before his goatship bad spent three
minutes in that garden he had managed
to make himself perfectly at home, pull
ed down the clothes line and devoured
twolace collars,a pair of undersleeves and
a striped stocking belonging to Mrs. 8.,
and was busily engaged sampling one of
Burdock’s shirts when the servant girl
came rushing out with a basket of clothes
to hang out.
“The saints preserve us!” she ex
claimed, coming to a full halt and gaz
ing open-mouthed at the goat, who was
calmly munching away at a shirt.
“Shew! shew! shew I there!” she
screamed, setting down her basket, taking
her skirts in both hands and shaking
them violently toward the intruder.
Then the goat, who evidently regarded
her movements iu the light of a challenge,
suddenly dropped his wicked old head
and darted at her with the force of a loco
motive, andjust one minute later by the
city clock that girl had tumbled a back
summersault over the clothes basket, and
was crawling away on her hands and
knees in search of a place to die—accom
panied by the goat, who butted her on
the bustle ground every third second.
It is probable he would have kept on
butting her for the next two weeks if
Mrs. Burdock, who had been a witness of
the unfortunate affair, had not armed
herself with the family poker and rushed
to her rescue.
“ Merciful goodness! Anne, do get up
®n your feet 1” aiming a murderous blow
at the brute’s head ,and missing it by a
few of the shortest kind of inches. It
was not repeated, owing to the fact that
the goat suddenly raised himself upon his
hind feet, waltzed towards her and struck
her in the small of the back hard enough
to loosen her linger nails and destroy her
faith in a glorious immortality.
When Mrs. B. returned to conscious
ness, she crawled out from behind the
grindstc' n where she had been tossed
and madt for the house, stopping only
once, when the goat came after her and
butted her head-foremost into the grape
arbor.
Once inside the house the door was
locked, and the unfortunates sought the
solitude of their own rooms, and such
comfort as they derive from rubbing and
growling,while the goat wandered around
the garden, like Satan in the book of Job,
seeking what he could devour, and the
seven little Boblink boys fairly hugged
themselves with pleasure over the per
formance.
By the time Burdock got home that
evening and learned all the particulars
from his arnica-soaked wife, the goat
had eaten nearly all the week’s washing,
half the grape-vine and one side of the
clothes basket.
“ Why in the thunder didn’t you put
him out, and not leave him there to de
stroy everything?” he exclaimed an
grily- •
“ Because he wouldn’t go, and I wasn’t
going to stay there and be killed, that’s
why!” answered the wife excitedly.
“ Wouldn’t fiddl sticks!” he exclaim
ed, making for the garden, followed by
the entire family.
“ Get out of here you thief!” he shout
ed, as he came into the garden and caught
sight of the shaggy and highly perfumed
visitor.
The goat bit off another mouthfull of
the basket and regarded him with a wick
ed twinkle of the eye.
“ You won’t go, hey ?” exclaimed Bur
dock, trying to kick a hole in the ene
my’s ribs. I’ll show you whether ”
The sentence was left unfinished, as
the goat then dropped his head on Bur
dock’s shirt bosom, and before he could
recover his equilibrium he had been but
ted seven times in seven fresh spots, and
was down on his knees crawling around
in a very undignified manner; to the hor
ror of the family and the infinite glee of
thejseven young Boblinbs next door.
“ Look out he don’t hurt you !” scream
ed Mrs. Burdock, as the goat sent him fly
ing into a mud hole,
When Burdock got his bald head out
the mud,*he was mad all over his clothes
and tried to clutch the brute by the
horns, but desisted after he’d lost two
front teeth, and been rolled in the mud.
“ Don’t make a living show of yourself
before the neighbors,” advised his
wife.
“ Come in, pa, and let him be,” begged
his daughter.
“ Golly, dad look out, he’s comin
agin!” shouted his son enthusiasti
cally.
Then Burdock waxed profane, and
swore three story oaths in such rapid suc
cession that his family held their breaths,
and a pious old lady, who lived in a house
in the rear, shut up her windows, aud
sent out the cook to hunt for a policeman
or missionary.
“ Run for it, pap?” advised his sou
a moment later, when the goat's atten
tion seemed to be turned away.
Burdock sprang to his feet and fol
lowed his offspring's suggestion. He
was legging it iu superb style, and the
chances of his reaching the house seem
ed excellent, when the fragrant brute
j suddenly clapped on more steam, gained
; rapidlyjand darting between his legs, eap-
I sized him into the ash-box.
His family dragged him inside, anoth
er candidate for rubbing, arnica, and a
blessed haven of rest.
The back of the house has been her
metically sealed, and Burdock now pro
poses extending an invitation to the
militia regiments of Boston to come down
and practice markmanship off the roof,
promising to furnish a live goat for a
target, and a silver-plated napkin ring
as the first prize. The goat still holds
the fort.
mm •
VICTORIA AND ALBERT.
Olive Logan, in a London letter to the
San Francisco Call, tells a very pretty
story of Victoria and Albert’s married
life. Long years ago the royal couple
quarreled. Chagrinned and vexed the
Prince retired to his room and locked the
door. The Queen took the matter very
quietly for a while, but after the lapse of
an hour,she went to the door and rapped ;
“ Albert,” she said, “ come out.”
“No, I will not,” answered the Prince
within. “Go away ; leave me alone 1”
The royal temper waxed hot at this.
“Sir,” she cried, “come out at once.
The Queen, whose subject you are, com
mands you.”
He obeyed immediately. Entering
the room she designated, he sat down in
silence.
“ Albert,” she said “ speak to me.”
“ Does the Queen command it?” he
asked.
“ No,” she answered, throwing her
arms around his neck, “ your wife begs
it.”
The curtain fell and Olive Logan came
away.
Force of Habit. —Sir George Staun
ton visited a man in India who had com
mitted a murder, and in order not ouly
to save his life, but what was of much
mure consequence, his caste, he submit
ted to the penalty imposed; this was,
that he should sleep for seven years on
a bedstead without any mattress, the
whole surface of which was studded with
points of iron, resembling nails, but not
so sharp as to penetrate the flesh. Sir
George saw him in the fifth year of his
probation, and his skin was then like
the hide of a rhinoceros, but more cal
lous ;at that time, however, he could
sleep comfortably on his “ bed of
thorns,” and remarked that, at the ex
piration of the term of his sentence, he
should most probably continue that sys
tem from choice which he had been
obliged to adopt from necessity.
Sand-Papering Boys.—Some men
have very peculiar tastes. In one of the
daily papers recently we found the fol
lowing advertisement: “ Wanted, a boy
to sand paper.” Now, why did that man
yearn for a chance to sand paper a boy?
If he must sand-paper something, why
couldn’t he be satisfied to rub a post, or
his aunt, or even the top of his own head ?
There is something morbid iu this in
satiable longing over a boy to polish off,
and it seems to us some check ought to
be put on the man.
Milan is soon to erect a statue to a
nameless heroine who saved the city
when it wes beseiged by Frederick Bar
barossa. She was young and beautiful,
aud she volunteered to stand in what Ar
temus ward calls “ the scandalous cos
tume of the Greek Slave,” all but the
dog chain, on one of the gates, and so
engage the attention of the besiegers till
the garrison, issuing from another gate,
fell on their rear and so compelled them
to retire.
An extensive band of horse thieves
has been discovered in Illinois and Mis
souri. Win. Twedall, one of the gang
arrested at Kirksville, Mo., has made a
confession implicating persons of hither
to good reputation, among them a preach
er who recently got up a revival meeting,
during which his confederates were to
steal horses.
Dr. Lawson, late Surgeon-General of
the United States army, says he often
observed that when the wolves and buz
zards came upon the battle fields to de
vour the slain, they would not disturb
the bodies of those who had chewed or
smoked tobacco until they had consumed
all the others.
Virginians claim that since the whip
ping post was re-established most of the
jails have been emptied, petty crimes
have almost ceased, and vagrants are
seen no more in the streets.
The latest proposal in the newspaper
line is a blind man’s paper, to be printed
iu Geneva. Each letter has small holes
in it, to which the fingers soon become
sensitive.
Last January, Louisiana consolidated
bonds were selling as low as 50. Within
the last fortnight they have reached 92.
These facts make their own commentary
A little three year old girl in Bos
ton struck a two and a half year old boy
on the head with a piece of brick, frac
turing his skull, from which he died.
The New York Sun predicts that Tex
as will be subdivided into five States,
with ten Senators. This addition to the
solid South will he heart rending.
VOL. Ill —NO. 37.
'VII V Mil. DIFFILINGER NEVER HAR
RIED THAT YOUNG LADY ON
NORTH HILL.
Burlington Hawk-Eye.
Everybody was just certain, it would
be a match. They were just fitted for
each other; she was beautiful and ac
complished, and young Mr. Difilinger was
good looking, rather well to-do and verv
agreeable. It was easily to be seen that he
was dead in love with that young ladv on
North Hill he used to visit, and is was
pretty generally understood that she
wasn't averse to receiving bis bashful
attentions, and if it hadn’t been for one
or two little incidents, it would have
been a match as everybody expected and
predicted.
’ioung Mr. Difilinger was not what
you would call an easy, self-possessed
man; in fact he rather prided himself
on his graceful carriage ami gestures
when nobody was looking at him. He
had a very studied, regular walk, and
the ladies all said his bows were “ per
fectly divine.” But however graceful
he might be on the street, ail his natur
al elegance of manner deserted him when
lie was iu company. He stood with his
toes turned in. He sat with his knees
crammed against each other and his feet
lying along the carpet iu parallel lines.
He laid one hand on each knee, or held
himself in the chair with them, and from
time to time he would rouse up, and ap
pearing to realize the stiffness of his con
strained position, would suddenly clasp
his hands together and shake hands with
himself, apparently delighted to know
that he was there, and seeming to de
rive great comfort and pleasure from
his own intimate acquaintance and soei
ety. He was always in agony lest his
scalp lock was standing straight up, and
constantly making furtive dabs at, until
he would get the crown that would make
an ordinary egg hatch itself in sheer envy.
He would feel that his nails were dingy,
and would try to investigate them with
out attracting any one’s attention, which
was always a failure. Aud he always
stepped on his own feet and picked up
some one’s hat when he started to leave
the room. One night lie waded into
this lady’s parlor, and the very young
lady everybody thought he would marry,
with the muddiest pair of overshoes that
ever climbed a Burlington clay-bank
clinging to his feet. And after he got in
he didn’t know how under the sun to
apologize and go out and take them off,
and so he sat down in an elegant easv
chair and worked himself into alternate
conditions of raging fever anti cold
sweats, trying to hide his feet under the
chair, painfully conscious all the time
that the eye of the young lady’s mother
was glaring at his unoffending feet. And
in his agony he worked one of the shoes
oft'and when he came away, not daring
to stoop and pick it up, he left it there
in a perfect frenzy of mortification and
remorse, and frightened the landlady
and all the boarders into convulsions of
terror, trying to dash out his brains by
butting his head against the lath and
plaster partition of his room. And the
next day he received the overshoe in a
big pasteboard box, with a sarcastic note
from the young lady’s mother, stating
that he probably overlooked it on ac
count of its smallness, (mud and all it
was about the size of a soap box,) and
the next Sabbath, when he caught the
young lady’s eye in church, she turned
scarlet and dived behind her fan, aud
he saw her shake the pew with uncon
trollable emotion. He thought at first
that she might be weeping, but closer in
vestigation revealed bis error, and he
afterward learned from some young la
dies with whom she had held converse,
that the morning after bis departure
from the parlor, it looked as though a
C. B. & Q. gravel train had been wrecked
under the easy chair in which lie sat.
It was a long time, of course, before
young Mr. Difilinger went out into com
pany again. But he heard people re
marking what a pity it was that such a
naturally graceful, accomplished young
man should shut himself up like a re
cluse, when he could, by an effort, over
come his bashfulness and make himself j
such an ornament to society. So he re- ■
solved to try once more. He tried ; he
called at the same house again one night
when there happened to be other compa
ny, and by watching himself with great
care, made a brilliant success all through j
the evening, lie sat with his legs grace- j
fully bestowed after the manner of the :
minstrel gentlemen. His hands were as
graceful and easy as a roller skater.
He said bright, pleasant things in an off
hand manner. And when he rose to go
everybody wished he would stay longer.
He picked up his own hat. As he back
ed toward the door, in real country style,
the young lady darted forward to inter
cept him. He understood the movement
as a tribute to his former awkwardness ■
and penchant for lingering over the
door knob, swung the door open, and
with a perfect triumph of masterly grace,
the very poetry of elegance, bowed him
self into a region of outer darkness and
shut himself in.
It was very dark, indeed. The hall
lamp had evidently' gone out, and unless
Mr. Difflinger’s nose was lying to him in
the most shameless manner, somebody
had carried the old shoe box into the
hall. Mr. Difilinger could hear the
muffled murmur of voices oa the other 1
side of the door, and it seemed to him,
once or twice, that there was some vio-
fit ©rikftepc QMiti.
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lently supprcssedlaugh ter going on some
where in the country. He didn't like-to
I b’° to tha parlor and ask for a lighr,.
so he groped oil, wit!*. some misgiving
toward the hall door. He thought he
couhl detect, in the atmosphere of the
close, dark hall, struggling uytli the old
shoe presence, the musty od*-r of old.
clothes. The nex tiling be knew lie
thrust his feet into the box of dismantled
shoes and till forward, jamming owe arm
up to theelbow in a band box, while,
with the other hand he reach, out and
grasping at anything lo stay his fall,,
pulled down upon himself, as he fell to,
the floor, an eld army overcoat, a pair of.
overalls, abalmoral skirt, a calico Uress,
and some flannel things that lie didn’t,
know the names of. There appeared to
be a marked increase in, the volume of'
the laughter, after the crash of liis fall
and the dreadful truth dawned upoi>
young Difilinger as lie rose to his feet
and shook the things off him. He had;
backed himself into the wrong door, amt
had made his general exit into the gen
eral wardrobe. He didn’t know at first
whether to cut his throat and die right,
iu there or go out and murder the archi
tect who planned the house. He felt
his way back to the door, iie emerged in
to the light and tornado of screaming
laughter, ile crammed his hat on his
head as far down as he could p ill it, and
strode across tl>e parlor with one of the
flannel tilings hanging on his back, and
dashed out of the right door, while the
company screamed and pounded their
knees and gasped for breath and howled,
and declaresl they should die, they knew,
they should.
And that’s the way the match was-,
broken off, or rather was never made.
THE MOOR.
In person, the Moor is tall and
of a commanding figure and possessing
great muscularity of form, with dark
eyes, white teeth, beard like jet and
handsome features, full of grave expres
sion. His general cast ofcoontenauce is,
Roman ; and his lofty dignity of manner
ist such, that when you see him enveloped,
in the folds of his snow-white liayk,
which falls gracefully over his shoulder.,
you might almost imagiued a senator of
ancient llgnie stood before you. How
different in other respects are the two.
characters! If the character of the
Moor be examined, it will be Gaud to.
consist of a compound of everything that
is worthless and contemptible, am! the.
few good qualities he possesses are quite
lost in the dark shade thrown around
them. Utterly destitute of faith, his
vows and promises are made at the same
time with such a resemblance of sincerity
as rarely to fail of deceiving his victim :
truth is an utter stranger to his lips, and,
falsehood so familiar with him, that de
pendence can rarely be placed on any-,
thing that he says. In his.disposition ho
is cruel, merciless, overbearing and ty
rannical, and benevolence aud humanity
are stangers to his breast. lVoud, arro-s
gaut and haughty as his general demean
or is, particularly to his inferiors, he is
fawning and cringing to those above him,
and the veriest slave imaginable when in.
contact with those whose power he has
reason to be afraid of. Suspicious, per
haps as much from the general uncer
tainty oflife and property in Morocco, as
from his own natural disposition, there,
is no tie of faith or friendship, which is
not capable of being dissolved when any
thing is likely to bo obtained; to accom
plish which be will descend to the lowest
flattery, and the moat servile acts ofcun
ning wheedling. Liberality and gener
osity are unknown to him ; or if he dis-.
plays these qualities, it is done from a
certainty that he shall be well repaid for
the exercise of them.
THE MOSqi F. OF ST. SOPHIA.
Twice the Temple of St. Sophia at Con
stantinople was destroyed by lire and
twice rebuilt; twice the great dunicTell
and twice it was restored. The arches,
having resounded to the music of Chr;
sostom’s voice, came at last to echo the
blasphemies of the infidel aud the groans
of the wounded aud dying. At the cap
ture of Constantinople the clergy, the
virgins dedicated to God and a multi
tude of people of all classes crowded in
to the church and sought refuge before
the high altar. Mohammed at the head
of the Osmanlis rode into the sanctuary,
forced his way through the affrighted
throng, and leaping from his horse at the
altar he cried, “ There is no God but God,
and Mohammed is his Prophet!” A
hideous scene of slaughter followed and
tbeTemple was desecrated. ThcrSultana
have despoiled it of its pictorial beauty
have added minarets and abutment* to
support the tottering southeast wall; have
caused the rich frescoes to be plastered
over with a yellowish substance; have
chipped away wherever it was possibly
the carved symbol of the cross;
hung great disks graven with the names
of four companions of the Prophet over
seraphims under the dome with their
slender wings crossed above and. below
them. Beneath the cupola is inscribed
in fantastic and beautiful characters a
line from the Koran : “ God is the light
of the heavens and of the earth.”— Stan*
haul Letter to the San Francisco Ch-rqn*
ole.
Two convicts in the Ohio penitently
have just confe&seda crime for which or\
man has already been hung.