Newspaper Page Text
MY WASTED YOUTH.
“Qua yous aide done fait, O mea teunes annees.'
Let me alone!
I am weeping my wasted youth.
I am weeping the days when the orchard was
w hi co and white
As the driven snow, and I did not go, as
might,
To let the blossoms fall and cover me o’er,
And take the heart of the spring to my own
heart's core.
I am weeping my wasted youth
Let me alone!
Let me alone!
I am weeping my wasted youth.
1 am weeping the starlight nights that I did
not see,
And the star-like eyes that never lit up for me,
The moons that on rippling waters have
glanced and shone,
And the tender faces I have not looked upon.
I am weeping my wasted youth.
Let me alone !
Let me alone!
I am weeping my wasted youth.
£ am'weeping the merry dances I could no*,
tread,
And the tears of happiness that I did not shed,
The feverish joy, and dumb, delicious pain,
And the lost, lost moments that will not conic
again.
I am weeping my wasted youth.
Let me alone !
Let me alone!
I am weeping my wasted youth,
am praying for -v.i...- «,vp. n tti: ir
youth »?o by,
With half its sweets nntasted, unknown, as L
That God—forasmuch as Ho left tlio iir-t.
bright page
Of their life a blank—would send them love in
their age,
I am weeping my wasted youth.
Let me alone!
— Blackwood?e Magazine.
w % Only Button.”
a
A cheerful south blossoming room, with a bay
window full of plants; a
bright lire glowiug behind a burnished
grate; a carpet whose soft, velvety pile
was shaded in blues and wood colors to
correspond with tlie damask-covered tuv
mture; and a little gilded clock, which
had just struck nine at night— ali these
things met Viva. Chiokerly's yawned eye as she
laid down her book and ns
widely as her ripe cherry of a mouth
would admit.
Slie was a plump fair-faced young
matron of some four or live and twenty,
with bright auburn bair, soft bine stood eyes,
and a complexion whose roses in
no need of artificial rouge to liigliten
their charms, while her dress of soil
crimson raeriuo was exquisitely adapted
to her semi-blonde style.
“Fanny,” said Mr. Chickerly, look¬
ing up from his newspaper, “did you call
on those Carters to-day ?”
“No; I never thought of it.”
“And they leave town to-morrow
morning; and Carter fancied is absurdly sensi¬ Fan¬
tive to desired all slights, make or point real. of call¬
ny, ( you to a
ing.” Frank,”
“Well, I did intend to, pouted
Mrs. Chickerly, “but one can’t (hint; of
everything. ”
“You cannot, it seems.”
“It appears to me that you are making
a mountain out of a mole-hill,” said
Fanny, rather tartly. business seri¬
“It may affect my very
ously. Carter’s bouse carries great in¬
fluence with it.”
Mrs. Chiolrm-ly wns her silent, in patting lilt!
velvet carpet with foot a manner
that indicated some annoyance.
“I shall liavo to leave here very early
to-morrow morning,” said her husband,
presently. "To to SocnersviiL, Aunt
Elizabeth’s go will ?”
‘ ‘Yes. ”
“Oh, I wouldn’t, Frank.”
“Why, not?”
“It's such bitter cold weather to travel
in, and Aunt Elizabeth is such a whimsi¬
cal old woman, it’s as likely ns not, that
she’ll change her mind abont making a
will when you get there. I would wait a
little, Mr. if Chickerly I were you.” smiled.
“That would be your system of doing
lliines, Fanny, but not mine.” What
“My system, Frank ! do you
mean ?”
“I mean that you believe in putting
'things off indefinitely, and not always in
the wisest manner. I wish you’d break
yourself of that habit, Fanny. Believe
me, it will some day bring you to grief.”
Mrs. Chickerly contracted tier pretty
rye-brows. don’t believe in being lectured,
“I
Frank.”
“And I don’t very often lecture you,
my dear; pray give me credit for .that.”
“You didn’t think you were marrying
an angel when you took me, I hope
“No, my love. I thought I wen mar
eying a very pretty little girl, whose few
faults might easily be corrected.”
“Faults ! Have I any great faults,
Frank?”
“Little faults may sometimes entail
great consequences, Fanny.”
“If you scold me any more I shall go
out of tho room.”
"Yon need not, for I am going myself
to pack my valise. By the way, there’s
a button off the shirt I want to wear to¬
morrow. I wish you would come up¬
stairs and sew it on for me.”
"I will, presently.”
“Why just can’t yon come now ?”
“1 want to finish this book; there’s
only And one more chapter.”
olutely Fanny Xliftt opened her volume so res¬
'vest to contest i i * -1 hnshand the question. thought it
not
Witting all alone in front of the bright
fire, Mrs. Chickerly gradually grew
drowsy, and before she knew it she had
drifted off into the shadowy regions of
dreamland.
She was roused by the clock striking
eleven.
“Dear me, how iate it is!" she
thought, with a little start. “I must go
upstairs immediately. There, I forgot
to tell cook about having breakfast at
five to-morrow rooming, and of course
she’s abed and asleep by this time. I’ll
be up early enough to see to it myself—
that will lie just as well.”
And laving this salvo to her con¬
science, Mrs. Chickerly turned off the
gas and crept drowsily up the stairs.
, sure you spoke .o .ast nigh..
Mrs. Chickerly rubbed her eyes and
started sleepily around.
“Oh, Frank. I forgot all abont speak¬
ing to her last night,” she cried, with
conscience-stricken face. ‘ But I’ll run
right up—she can have the breakfast
ready in a very few minutes.”
She sprang out of bed, tlirnst her feet
into a pair of silk-lined slippers, a.ud
threw a shawl over her shoulders.
Mr. Chickerly bit his lip and check'd
her:
“No need. Fanny,” he said, a little
: rlv. “I Ernst leave the house in
f'U minute or miss the only through
traiu. It’s of no ns© ftpeaking to cook
now.”
J F C W,iji ani# I
— » Jo
*i if AMJLTON URN AI
»
4
VOL. XII. NO. 27.
“I am so sorry, Frank.”
Mr. Chickerly did not answer; ho was
apparently absorbed in turning over the
various articles in his bureau-drawer,
while Fanny sat shivering on the edge for of
ihe bed, cogitating how hard it was
her husband to start on a long journey
Hint bitter morning without any break- .
fast. I
“I can make a Cttp of coffee myself I
!i§£S=
neck of my shirt. I have packed tho I
others—those that are fit to wear.
hage shirts enough, but. "■” j
Fanny crimsoned as she remembered last i
how often, in the course of the
month or two, she had solemnly prom
ised herself to devote a day to the much
uciAied renovahon of her husband’s
Biie looked down-stairs around for her thimble. night, m j
“I left it last ,
get it in a minute 1” |
The housemaid had just kindled a Are
in the sitting-room grate; it was blazing 1
and crackling cheerily among the fresh
coals, and Fanny could not resist the.
temptation of pausing and a watch moment tho to warm
her chilled Angers green- ,
ish-purple spires of flame shoot merrily
up the chimney, calling until she heard her hus- j
bamVs voice her imperatively t I
l '“ jl — -
“Oil, dear,” thought, the wife, as she ,
ran upstairs, “I wish Frank wouldn’t lie
SO cross. He’s always in a hurry.” stopped to
Little Mrs. Chickerly never
think that the reason was that she, his
wife, was never threaded, “in a hurry.” thimble fit
Tlio needle the
ted on, selected; an appropriate button was next
to be
“Oh, dear, Frank, 1 haven’t one tie)
right size 1” i
“Sow on what you have, then; but be
quick !” |
But Fanuy was quite certain there was
‘just (lie right button” somewhere in
r-,„. worMiaskef mid sfonned fl to search I
“There I Inhl von ml' 1 she erie.l poin’ I
Irimiirilinntlv holding s it no 1 on the P I
of her needle
“Well ll sew it on quick ” said
Oliiekerlv’ Wi his'
n™Nv Mr irlancine B 8 at watch I
“That's inst vour worrying wav I
Frank- as if anvbodv i/a could sew n I but’ i
ton on well Imrrv. There my
needle Ins come iintlirended !”
“Oil Famiv Fannv!” *of ^lidienco sighed lasT, her
husband, fairly i™ out at
A ,1,, it lmt “L uiokt HR t
begged of I o.a)l had of toe tnilui I
and what, little chance we a place I
j n An ufc Fli^nbeth’s will will bo sacri- '
liced to your miserable habit of being
always behindhand.”
Fanny gave him the shirt and Chickerly began
to whimper a little; but Mr. inclination
had neither the time nor the
to pause to soothe her petulant mani¬
festation of grief. He finished his dress¬
ing, caught up his valise with a hurried¬
ly-spoken “good-by,” and rail down
stairs, two steps at ft time, into the
street,
“There he goes,” murmured Fanny;
“and he’s gone away cross witii me, and
all for nothing wasn’t but a miserable thing button ! !
I wish there such a as a
button in the world. (A wish which, we
much Mrs. misdoubt, many another echoed, wife than with
Fanny Chickerly lias
perhaps better reason.)
Mrs. Chickerly dinner was sitting down with to
her little a la solitaire, a
daintily-browned chicken, tumbler cel¬ of
currant jelly and a curly bunch of
ery ranged door before opened her, when, and to in her walked sur¬
prise, lord the and husband.
iier
“Wiiy, from?” Frank, where on astonished earth did wife. you
come cried tho
“From the office,” coolly answered
Mr. Chickerly. off for
“But I thought you were
Bcenersville, in such a hurry ?”
“I found myself just five minutes too \
late for the train, depot.” after having run all
the way to the
“Ob, that was too bad 1”
Chickerly smiled a little as he began
to carve the chicken.
“Yes. I was a little annoyed at first:
it did seem rather provoking to be kept
at homo by only a button.”
“What are you going to do ?”
“Why, I shall make a second start to¬
morrow. ”
“I’ll see to it that your breakfast is ;
ready wardrobe this in time trim, to ” a second, said Fanny, and all rather your j i
relieved at the prospect of a chance to j
retrieve her character. I j
“Yen no (_ \ hax-e engaged a
room at a hotel near the depot. I can’t ,
run any more risks.”
He did not speak unkindly, displeased and With yet j :
Fanny felt that he was
her.
“But, Frank--”
“We will not discuss the r
nr (her, my love, if you pleas,
resolved to say nothing me
about reforms. I see it is use.
it only tends to foster an un,
state of feeling between us. Bn
licip you to some macaroni ?”
Anti fairly silenced, Fanny ate he
tinner with what appetite whs left t
tier.
Three days afterward Mr, Chicker
once more made his entrance, just ,
dusk, carpet-bag in hand, shine as Fanny sa
: enjoying the ruddv of the coal
drawerfnJ of Bhir{s _ a job which she
had so ioDg been dreading and postpon
ing. Elizabeth?’
“Weli how is Aunt
questioned Fanny, when her husband,
dnh- welcomed and greeted, had seated
i,ini.-e!f in the opposite easy-cliair.
“Dead,” was the brief reply.
“Dead! Oh, Frank ! Of her old
f ru my, apoplexy y
“Yes.”
.
“It‘'waT Apparently she had < x
j-eeteJ n>«\ f * V Ray she horM i hntl
-
»!*,•.- into J; ;•••<] ■ rwy rriv.L ;i the
■ !v trail.- stop# she f**ut for the
village lawyer, made her will, and left
HAMILTON, GEORGIA.THURSDAY, JULY 10, 1884,
all her property to the orphan asylum in
Sccnersvilte, with a few bitter words to
the effect that the neglect of her only
living nephew had induced her on tho
r ,pnr of the moment to alter her She original died
intention of leaving it to him.
(he very neSt morning.” much it?”
“Oh, Frank, liow was i
“Ten thousand dollars.”
There was a moment or two of silence, i
and then Mr. Chickerly added, com
%s~r. doomed by the utterance of her r own 1
conscience Not. alone the one m-ssnig
omisskins, forgetfulnesses
1
^ transpiring tpAimeivi's present seemed to
Cn j before her mind's
\y l lt wou j ( j this refflJni, end in? Was 1.
m< : ,1 '. ons to u ’ ac1 ' ),' er lo tram herse111,1
a different bchool.
*>'» ™ »«d came to her husbands
side, . laying one tremulous hand
s,l “u'; lor - !
There shall bo • •
no more m - g
He “ compiehended y 0 '' p ,' ®!?“," all t ’ that f w she teft c m,
spoken, and silently piesse- fhe •
g " *"/,Unore^hali'Vliis'up-.n ‘ the subject. Faiiny
.jAerv ., . forgotten
set lie self osutely to w rk
'' VvA aH may itewlien we resolve to do
•
K ‘
......
The Vicissitudes W u Life.
__
Joel C. Harris, the famous humorist
0 f the South, lias had a strangely ro
mautic career. His father was a mis
Rionary, and it was at tlio small town of
lioog-hia, on the southern coast IIo of Af- ed
r ica, that Joel was born. was
ucated by his father and acquired foreign a
wonderful aequaiutanco with ;
languages. He is an adept Sanskrit !
seiiolar, and is deejily versed in Hebraic
and Buddhist literature, The sweetly
quaint legends ot Indian and Judean !
mythology have found their way into :
his simple Southern tales, and the spirit the |
,lf his philosophy is identical with ;
teachings of Moses and Buddha. Borne
years before the civil war young school Harris in |
onmo to America and 1'eetoelootehkee, tanglit a
village near Lake in
Etorida. While thus employed ho niado
the acquaintance of Sallio Ould Curtis,
Iho daughter tl of a woaltliy planter,
These soon fell in love with each
other. pas-’-l Ey Bulisequently Uolouel Curtis Hams was. private en
as
tutor for Ins children, and thoro was
no objection made Sallie, to the then young radiant mans -
attentions to Miss a
creature of sixteen. Tho war came on;
Colonel Curtis raised a regiment with
hifc private h\eaus; and young Harris speedily en
listed as a private, was Not only did
promoted to a captaincy. by
Colonel Curtis lose all his property
the rebellion, but in the battle of Col
tltnbia, S. (3., a grape - - shot tore his lower of j
limbs into shreds. To fill his cup ,
bitterness, and to blight the life of Joel j
Harris forever, the beautiful Ballic Quid ;
Curtis died of yellow fever the veiy day
her lover and crippled father Harris returned had lint
from four years of war. .
one mission in life now, and that was j
the support and comfort of the maimed j
sire of ids sweetheart. Hie two lived
together in an ivy-covered cottage neai
Atlanta, and the love the twain bear
each other is beautiful to contemplate.
Mr Harris is oply forty years of age,
yet Ins snow-white hair tells the sorrow
of his life. Generous amiable and
tender, he is a fair example of Ihetosply
nobility which, tried by adveisity and
cliastoned by grief, has naught in it of
dross.
Jlie Citizen Soldiers.
The old-fashioned competitive militia
company drill tournaments, which used
to be so popular in the North and Bouth East,
arc still in great favor through the
and Southwest. It will be remembered
that the encampment held in Nashville
last year IVAs Very successful, being at¬
tended by some spectators and partici¬
pants from great distances. Houston is
going to hold alike encampment early in
May for prize drills of infantry, artillery
and zouaves. This location for an inter¬
state drill is decidedly in a corner of the
country, but the unprecedented first
prize of $5,000, with other prizes
amounting to 80,000, should be enough
to attract crack companies from all parts
of the South at least while some North
companies might take the opportu
mty to see Texas at a most favorable
time of the year,
E<
IOl —
Great must be taken ,..... n 'hit
way. care
the children do not acquire habits o.
living that will be above then: ability also ro
m e-t at the reservation. Mr. Teller
believes that machinery should beem
ployed as little as possible as few Indians
wil! be able te buy expensive machinery
fur their farms.
A full-lea tided grandfather recently
had his 1/eard shaved off, showing a
clean face for the first time in an umber
of v-ars. At the dinner table his three
%<•.." mdi granddaughter noticed it, gaz
in" h IoDg time with woii I* rin^r eye*,
*»n«l finally ►heejacuJated: *‘Grandfather,
\ynoae head you got on ? ”
HOME SKELETONS.
iNTiiittesTiNo in:snm»TioN off Tim
Ul IfFlS ItKNT Ml*Et li:s.
A 1'0'V oi Tlii ni that t'omfl Iri lldlhor tin
In Our tlomi’0.
THE SKET.KT0N IN THE OLOSET,
iHiill the J,lUlm closet^n^ud nl^tt/it 1 ’
J { .A . i OTer ,,5
then we sit and listen to the dismal rattle
qLkouSk‘b^or^Z if Vknow’l'.e ho does make 8 '! 8
get out, and that ever
tip bis mind to disclose himself he will
select for tho date of Ills delmt the very
occasion when we wull most Cordially
tem* crmYtyrant with that false ho offerings is*! ’ Wo and pro- ab
pitiate I him
, H|mUi and lleftrt .breaking hypoo
We mask our dread with smiles,
and meet our friends with rippliug
gayetv, but if he is in the honso at all,
he is nover in the closet, ho is over at
ottt 0 p,ow. All, if would he would only stay
In the closet, who think of him?
® ut . no > sit here by lUe, Mr. MsCbuih;
* lere “ , 11 P* llco reserved, sir. Ah, me,
ivbose ghost is this ? Who put that
drawn and I owe six months rent; never
shake thy hungry bills at, pie. Bit down,
most worthy friends. Our dining room
is small, but next sitmmet the Hudson, 1 altl going with to
build a house on a
dining-room as big as a tennis court. I
am ft little ioo tired to Bit down in this
chair, so I will stand; but I swear to you
there >s nothing in this chair; no, oh,
dear, net.
1 sham bkeheton.
And so often, ho is a burlesque skel
eton, tho shullling automaton of tlio
property man, a ghastiy would coward exorcise Hint for- a
little moral courage
ever. In the first, place, 1 don’t believe
there in a closeted skeleton in every
heme; I do hot think there are lloliomes
without honest troubles; but I believe
tliore are homes that are haunted by no
grizzly spectre of which tlio family
stands in trembling dread. And where
there is a skeleton, why, in how many
Instances Is liG ft geblitl of your own
creation. How often he is procured trouble
at great expanse and with much
and maintained at a measureless outlay
of painandcare,themoBtab]oolswin- that ever■carried
,U*i .
and sock-clot n into a nappy Homo, flow
often is he ft bogus spectre that a little
sunshine, a ripple of laughter, a brentli
of mnsic would bnnisn forever l Homo*
times oar skeleton is only our honest
poverty; Unfurnished a I««t year’s bonnet, a shabby
coat, an room somewhere in
the house; sometimes it is a poor rein
tion.
AH unjust skeleton,
And bow nie.ui is it in uh to make
a skeleton of tlio poor folatioh. I know
bo is often ft sore trial to you, I know
how j„, a i W ays happens hands te caff full on you of
j I18 t when you have your a
8W( ,„ dinner party for grander people,
nn( j nr( , w i«ijing your relative nt the bof
tom of tbe „,, v . j kn „ w how he hiv.maes
j dp team under tiie shade frees before
y our f rou t gate, I know how lie trumps
the porcIl tu „( in at tho front
doorj carrying in one hand a pumpkin as
hi( , , LS , he Mississippi valley, and harder
to |, r cak that the toa commandments are
k(; ep, ail( j j n the other a pillow slip
half full of the gnarlicst, colony bitterest spjiles
Blftt eVet harlmred a of worms,
indications that ho is going to stay all
woek jf butter irons up to ninety-five
C ents a pound; and yet you have no
reaHOn to feel harshly toward him. He
doesn’t do it on purpose. No man in
this day and generation is poor for fnn.
I myself very narrowly escaped fraternal being a
poor relation, hence I have a
feeling for him. I possessed in an cm
inent degree all tho and ingredients of a
boom for the office, I believe I was
elected, by an overwhelming majority,
lint I couldn’t qualify, I was too poor,
OENUiNfc SKEhKTOSa
I do not believe in one half the skel¬
etons that haunt tho homes of our land.
And when there is in this world of dis¬
mal realities bo much suffering and feat
and trouble that is real, why should wo
.ive in bondage to unmanly fears and
imaginary miseries, and deliberately go
into the skeleton business to find trou¬
ble ? t can find the skeletons without enough out¬
side to give me horrors keep¬
ing one in the house. And a real skel¬
eton is not such a terrible tiling, per ee.
] hnd rather rp ■eesioii of
etc* . I. ’
!• M
derstand what it is; that
creep homeward with sio
steps, and with frightened be Jr 1.
the house that should
„ skeleton that deepens by
elusion and mystery; a
nevftr shov.s itself, but is
peeled, like the man unfit
Better the man should be a u-ai
vagabond mid his children waifs ii.
^ troet, than live hi a home with suci
skeleton.
^ Wv.snr.ns paper han nn nr Dele ct
tit “ AfR r the F;tloon what ? Wt
in thi* mty it in generally h .swelled
and a painful alnwjnce of ewifa.
IN THE UHEAT DESERT.
A (Imiiliic IMriiire of lUc Snluirn inferno hj
n NcivwpniHT C'»rr<*ft|>»ndenf'
Hiding five hundred metres in advance
of our little troop, tho horsenmu who
nets ns guide the directs dismal our solitude. way over For the
dead level of
and singing sssswtt in his tongue nuW
own a
choly, long-drawn OfUl chant, », With singular- W.
rl, r ,n. !.«.
pace. Then all of a sudden ho starts oil
nt n trot, standing in lbs »tim>ps 3K civet
2& ” A,K at? terhinf,
tret a f
draws rein again to commence a gentler
i, „ .
“How can he guide us through these
naked wastes without ft single mark to
"‘dVl! Bu he answered L , J.
“lhere are only the bones of camels „
And in fact, every quarter of an lumr,
we came across some elm.mens b.mo
sirs.? it of leg,
sand. Sometimes was part a
sometimes pint, oi a jaw, sometimes a
portion of thovctebral column. The ear
avails leave behind them every animal
that emmet keep up; and the jackals do
not carry all tho remains away.
And for several clays,we continued this
sSB-" 1
New, one aftenmon, as we were ap
by the mirage—I ho form of which aston
isbodme. At our approach two vultures
flew away. It was ft carcass, still thougf, slimy
in spite of the heat-glossy, as
X-sr’atene'n'mafnedf tl.'e'iiinbH had
7S S
*;£»' ' ah0nd ” f
uh . Hind the licutc rt .
Some hour a Inter we entered u nivino,
ns
at
;,s; sii^.:rffs,a , s ,
,t
.■a.STJSa.-aLf-tr-a long
dying Of fatigue and thirst. Ills
nmmbers, that seemed inert, broken, all
mixed up together, were stretched upon
the fiery soil. And, homing ns coming, light
he had lifted up Ids heml, like a
house. His forehead, already gnawed
liy tho sun, was but one wound—a great
running sore; and his resigned gaze fob
lowed uh. Ho did not utter a moan did
not make the least effort to rise. One
would have thought, that, as ho lmd seen
ro nnuiv u!Xh of his brethren die in their long
deRolatten. hok.iew too
W0 H the mereiiessnesg of man. Now it
wnfl i, in turn—that was all I And we
„nsu P d on i,' long
Bnt w en j ] o0 ked back a long,
afterward I saw still rising from
,he sand tho lofty nock of the abandoned
i . m ’ , watching to the end the last liv
’ h( con](1 behold,
a , llr( . H , ,. V er pass
. hevoml the horizon.
An hour Inter It was a dog, crouching
to ft rocUi wi ,i, j ft ws wide open mid
f. lM£ , K glittering—incapable of moving a
with eyes fixed uii-.n two vultures
who sat not far off, pluming themselves
waiting for his death. He was so
„o ' S8C ssed with terror, of those terribly
b inls waitin'- f -- b>" fl«h, that
| ,,, m ,ver turned Ids neatr, m did not
j j even feol the stones that a spahi flung nt
j,j m nnoth
And, deliio suddenly, at the outlet of
e r 1 saw the oasis before me.
ft was an apparition never to lie for
gotten. One lias traversed endless
j,| a j n n, ’calcined, climbed mountains all seeing'a craggy,
|„ t |,j without ever
’ plant, single leaf; and
tr ,,„ n a green feet,
(-right lief ere you, at your very
jH „„ () p a qiie mass of sombre verdure -
a s it were a lake of foliage extended up
on the sand. Then, further on, the des
ort. rpcommewwH, lengthening infinitely
to the indefinable horizon where it mixes
with the sky.
A Bogus Ia> In the Legislature.
General Bplnner, who is now cultivat¬
ing oranges in Florida, has of tain the
interviewed by a correspondent
Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Hoxnething has occurred recently to
remind him of an old incident. In the
“carpet-bag” days when it was very >’
' ' 1 to secure a party m«i'‘rity ii
•nine part’’
'ternh
$1.00 A YEAiL
THE OLD HUNTER.
n is vi ic a vie NTicruui.K to savi?
MONEY.
An I it ('Id«' nt In Itvcrv.dny l.llo Tolil l»v Itob
ItiirdulU'v
~- «* *“ v,r ;
p«>K t><'f°re anyone new in fl.e office
a sit in. .lie news room, press loom,
i “X™“ ™, J ”& “fS
Jure , , ■
°was .
l f ,m straight ns it was tall, the
* TtS^ *7 uri^'T. YmM
j could teg have a house patch -m of llie garden. hill, where And ii.y ho
ft
! »»<* J^'ldm »>y >""vas slay’‘luunT'i.'iLh'b. going b..,..it sHcki..||
and get ue
i iinainted with his family. And the suit
„f clothes ho bought in tlio foil lasted n
« flic next summer, ^ and then
| J - •, ()ut ..,-,,^,,1” h , (ho ut( . r , nI „i
! more tl.an hoover
* *•<» «•*—■— **<
| ,n ^ r “« h
n „ M 8torJi thl(l Htalgglo of a
1 printer to got a homo; any one of these
restless mariners of the land, drifting
from port,to port and back again, lured by
the iijms fahius of Romany cents move a
thousand and n price and a half after
, , bj , )jll8 with fonr „ r
: | /“L/a. 1 ,!! l,!t!'aml S |l,e*sul,H
1“' atorvatu».._ But it w hnd, up-n
I work for a printer to buy a home. IBs
1’7 '« "‘ ,m >' reduced and hardly rinsed;
| !' ' lw 'F 2“T H mfte ‘ ’
i ae can't
B»n>l>. ¥ J'V.Ta,t' tlm
works for the bosses’
"
Bo the old man worked bravely on, und as
/im»y intijv « printer I i,,lu Iuih 11 worked before
•
fSKf-s* “ £rrrB
csuk. w w aarsf.. .......fvn;* s
si2»xxz tsss^^r^z
reporter sent it n just as it came, al
'hough it awfully was a to - u make - ay- it ' colnmn < « and ^
wanted a old
pnt on a hanging head. And the
man sent marked copies of that paper
to ovory soul he know in this world,
But one day an nn uddon guos -
! home from sehool with tlio boy an< sat
down by I lie licarthstone m the old man s
rented home And the long days of
; fever and doctor s In Is drew out near y
all that lit tle bank home account, and
i empty one black and day the the business old man’s e flee ease tohl was tlio
, undertaker all bis bills would lie
that
! I >ll '-l there and ho mnstn t take any
j money And pale from and the quiet old man. and sad, looking
, old and worn, was the printer who the came
1 I next day and took Ins place at fast ease, t hat
The types didn’t click very xn
| alley for days after that. And some¬
' limes the printer’s fan* would lie lying
on the boxes in his folded arms and how
pathetic looked the half-filled stick m
the clasped hands, the composing rule
fallen out of place, and the pied typo
and loads nil tumbling together.
More than one printer, going by on
bis way te empty bis stick in tbe galley,
! tho was a take long Ids time bonding followed; down and to more find
i one
| than one, looking across at the Ueart
broken picture of sorrow, leaned close
down to his copy to rend fair writing
that was never blurred when it came oil
the hook, and grimed his eyes with an
unsteady bond, saying something about
the dust or tho glare of Hie light,
And then about five years after that,
the boy's mother, weary of the long pil
grimago, lay down to rest in a cool
,
j arbor, violets, roofed and awoke with waving to kiss grass her boy and blue
Inflint Indian Killers Cupt
A few months ago four bo
very respectable people L ot
Wis., were sent to the ■
after they bad ' ”•
h.v ft •'
tired
j (In,
it.
UNCLE ABE, WE’S ItEADV.
fhe ’J’onrhm Din.er ns It was Enjoyed by
Hi. Whole Enmity,
On<! night, nays Hamilton Jay, I was
aroused by the persistent barking of a
pet dog. Hastily dressing, I went out
enough to tiie to poultry kill house huge ’possum, and was whicht lnekyj
a
was gazing between the stabs at the
rows of fat chickens. The next morning
1 turned it over to Uncle Abe, whose
lingo, mysterious mouth watered at the
sight of'the. fat ’possum meat.
It was Sunday morning, and great
preparations were made for the feast.
Uncle Abe lived in the wood lot in the
rear of the plantation, in a neat little
cabin of one room, with a home-made
chimney of mud and slabs.
His front door looked out upon a
pretty litllo pond, whose shores were
lined with cow tracks and snalro holes,
and iiis back yard was forty acres of
well wooded high pine land.
About 10 o’clock that morning I was
strolling along the road, taking my Abe, con.
stitutional walk when I met TTnnle
and bailed lilm with, "Well, Abe, is the
■possum cooking?” answered,
“Hit’s a parbilin’, sab,” he about
“den we roan’ hit, and Uab dinner
1 o’clock g. m.”
“Have you invited anyone to dinner,
Abe?” , mother .,
“Vo. sab; nut mv womans i
an’ some oh my odor latives has wited |
dev own selves, sail, an’ do ’possum dey am
gwinh*.' look mighty lonesome when
all pits ’round do table. liar’ll be Peter
an’ Nancy, an’ a triflin’ young nigger
named Isaac, an' Busan an Jinny, an^
dat big fat woman on do bill, an’ me an
do chi I ten. HowBtimeber, we has plenty
Inters an’ eo’u bread, and I reckon dey
will sorter help out,” and Alio hurried
back to his chateau to see that nothing
went wrong and incidentally, perhaps, to
get a whiff of tlio savory mess. the
About 12:30 p. m. I strolled by
cabin and took a sly look through the
window at the assembled toasters in
prospective. Uncle Alio was sitting by /
the open fire-place, where a huge pine
lire was merrily blazing, liis eyes “sot
on a covered pan where the ’possum lay
sputtering and hissing m protest against j
having been butchered to make ft negro
holiday. ITis mother-in-law, very and HU¬
portant in stiflly-starched calico red
turban, was setting the table.
His wife, perspiring freely, was had ex¬
amining the hoe cake to sco if it at
tuiued tho proper dononess; his young
sister-in-law was flirting behind her
turkey tail fan, and hide-bottomed tho aged grandfather chair,
was seated in a
0 ,.minor, a song with a slapping wrinkled aeeom
pnnimcttt, tho playea legs of -with the chair. bis
fingers on dressed in their best
They were all
gear, all looked happy, though slightly
impatient, us the odor of the cooker- 25
struck their generous nostrils, and
joined in tho chorus of tho old man’s
song:
TUB BONO.
jin noRHum nm ft-i'fj|iH’in’ in fie trig, witlo pan
(Undo Abo, wo’h Inmgry!) cilia ha
tie olo mini mil a-wntohiu’ nil as can
(Undo Abe, -lai'e Peter in 1) tier ban’
An’ lie ole woman am got. a spoon !)
(Undo Abo, flat's Nancy
An’ a pop-ovod nigger am a-trittin' will a fan
(Uncle Alio, flat's Isaac!)
An’ yar nm do fattest brack gnt in do Ian’
UJncle Abe, dnt’B a-lonkin’ Susan mighty !)
Oli, iny, ain’t old Aunty Jinny !) gran
(Uncle Abo, flat’s
Close up do floor* an’ -to windows now tight as
von kin. anuflder olo nigger
An’ flon’ yon lot dough knock man in, like
Nur a brack gal, ertcr, she
sin, done, an’ Marm Nancy dm
For do grin. ’possum nm
An’ ole Uncle Peter inoa’ jump outen tiie
skin
Isaac, you kin nit alotigcr side Miss Hasan;
I spools dis dinner gwmter bo mighty 'moonin’
(Uncle Abo, wo’s ready !j
DOMESTIC RECIPES.
Pickled Blackiikhiiikh.— Nino lbs.,
of berries, one pint of vinegar, three
pounds of sugar; scald tho berries in the I
sugar, then skim them out, add thel
vinegar, boil down os thick as desix’cd.
Chicken Hour.—One chicken jointed, I
two himI a half pounds of beef cut into
strips, two onions, two turnips, one-halfl
cup of sago, pepper and salt; chop
iiiiinnK and turnips; put all to boil in
seven quarts of water. Take out meat
and put into a jar. Btraiu soup through
a sieve. Cook two hours more.
Olrab Boiip.— Four pounds of boef,
oiie-lmlf gallon of water, boil slowly
eight lioiirH; skim and strain then add
(wo onions, three stalks of celery, salt
and pepper and boil twenty minutes and
strain.
Poached Ewm.— Fill ft frying salt pan and 1
with boiling water, add a little
vinegar. Break eggs, one at a time, into 1
a wet saucer; slip upon the surface of Take the j
water, cook slowly three minutes.
up with a skimmer.
Boiled Brim; Pcdimno. —One cup of
molasses, two mips of water or one cup
of milk, one cup of suet chopped fine or
one-half cup of butter, one cup of raisims
four cups of flour or three and one-half
cups when milk is " l r ' r ' n teaspoon¬
ful of soda, s»
IJOIKH: t,
•OTR n-