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treat 1 r-
To fence and forest-nook, and high again
Tbe soft clouds sail the sonny heaven; then
The South Wind comae with hope end life
It knows the grave of every flower that
And wakes each litte Lazarus. It dyes
The dawn a fairer purple than of Tyre,
And spills the cloudy cisterns of the skies.
It lifts the heart like verse, but how it
The chords of memory’s pathetic lyre!
—Franklin E. Denton, in the Current.
DOWN TURN MR’S POINT.
If you will look out of the window on
your right, when the train gets through
the cut, you will hare a fine view of the
<srand Chtsm,” says the polite conduc
tor, lifting his gilt-lettered cap.
“Thankyou very much,” returns the
quiet little laSy in dark blue, quickly
raising her eyes from the pages of her
guide-book.
“Oh, Aunt Tina,” says a shrill* ex
cited voice, at her elbow, “let me go out
on the platform, do! I'll l>e just as care
ful and hold on to the break as tight I”
“Don’t think of such a thing for a
moment 1" in quick, decided tones, while
her alert eyes are uj>on each movement of
the restless bit of humanity at her side.
She is a quiet-locking little lady no
longer.
The train is approaching Tallulah, Tal
lulah the Terrible, Georgia’s greatest and
t most famous Wonder, and the passengers
are in a fever of impatience to catch the
first glimpse of the tremendous canyon
along the dizry edges of which the rail
road'makes its way. None more so than
the wide-awake bit of humanity referred
to, who, boylike, cannot understand why
it is that his twelve years of life do not
entitle him to a greater show of privi
leges, like that, for instance, of standing
on the platform as the other men are
doing.
Ho thinks his auntie unnecessarily
cautious and particular, yet he doesn’t
get ugly about it at all He has never
been a very headstrong, nor a very dis
obedient boy, only somewhat willful at
times, with strange ideas of his own, the
expression of which, after a fashion
peculiar to himself, has gained for him
among his mates the title of “the queer
fellow.”
There is nothing in the bare sides of
the cut through which they are now
passing, nor in the monotonous stretches
of pine barrens left behind, to give even
* hint of the grandeur of the scene that
now bursts upon their vision.
Down through a gore 1,300 feet in
depth, and over 1,000 feet in width nt
its narrowest point, dashes the Tallulah
river, over ruggedly massed boulders, in
foam-tossed cascades that throw their
spray in ait nearly a hundred feet.
On either side rise sheer walls of solid
granite, worn smooth as polished silver
in many places by the floods of centuries,
and like silver glittering in the sun’s
rays.
“That is Turner’s Point,” said the con
ductor, pointing just to the right of them
to, stupendous mass of rugged granite
■shelves, soil covered in many places that
juts out more prominently than the
■others into the dizzy gorgo. “With but
■ono exception,” continued the conductor,
“it is tho highest point on the chasm,
and is full nino hundred feet above the
tied of the river.”
“A tremendous fall that!” exclaims a
nervous little gentleman behind him,
“provided any one wanted to try it.”
“Shouldn't think they’d particularly
-want to try it,” returns the conductor,
lryly, “yet some of them do.”
“Good gracious,” cries the nervous
Title gentleman again, “you don’t mean
to say that someone has fallen down
there f”
“Oh, no, not that; ODly that some of
the more adventurous have tried to climb I
down by means of the clumps of stunted
■verdure you sec.”
“And did they succeed?”
“Only so far as a partial descent; about ;
■one-third of the way, I believe.”
Arrived at Young’s Hotel about the
first person whose acquaintance is sought
by our restless bit of humanity—otherwise
■Aunt Tina's nephew, Swain Conuor—is
Monk, the veteran guide.
“I say, Mr. Monk,” Swain breaks forth
immediately that he has that worthy se
curely penned in an out-of-the-way corner
of the veranda, “I want you to take me
-down Turner's Point.”
1* “Phew!’ whistles Monk, thinking this
the queerest one he has had to deal with
jet. Then, apparently determining to
■treat it all as a huge joke:
“Yes, certainly, and isn’t there some
thing else on the same order that you
■would like, a pleasure ride, for instance,
over the Hurricane?”
“Yes, if you please.”
“But, good gracious! I don’t please!”
cries the excitable little guide, losing con
trol of himself at once. ‘ ‘The thing either
way is not to be thought of for a mo
ment, unless you are extremely anxious
to leave th s world for another.”
“But the conductor said some of ’em
went down Turner's Point.”
“Someone or two fool hardy ones
have, to a certain distance, but thev
were glad enough to get back, I can tell
you. As to going down that way to the
bottom of the gorge—well, if yon are
extremely anxious to get rid of yourself,
the quickest way would be to' try tkfc
Hurricane.”
“The very ‘terror-spot’ of the whole
river,” says Mr. Monk, the next morning
when exhibiting the awe-inspiring spec
tacle, known as Hurricane Falls, to Aunt
Tina and her attendant Swain.
They have been afraid to leave the
hotel at first because of the threatening
appearance of the sky, but as Aunt Tina’s
time is limited, she had finally decided
to venture. After that, luck seems to
favor her, for, with the cxoept'on of the
few drops while at the Indian Arrow
Rapid-, there has been no further fall of
rain, indeed, the clouds are now fast
clearing away, while already the bright
rays o. the sun are struggling forth.
“O, what a beautiful little rainbow."
cried Swaiu, as from the rock on which
they are now standing he catches sight
of the exquisite arch, whose prismatic
hues sparkle brilliantly between him and
the dashing foam of the caacade.
“Yes, but yonder is a much more
beautiful one,” says Mr. Monk, pointing
down the gorge to where a magnificent
bow, Iritsiiwly vivid in ita coloring,spans
the i uggo i walk of the canyon.
"That . , indeed a beauty:" eielaim.
Aunt 'Tina, at the turns round the butter
to admite it. "Idon't know when 1 have
wen one of su -h intense col*.ring if
the old faddoned chi id stories are to be
believed there ruu*t b a very gorgeous
tfc.i sure fade <1 at the foot of that bow."
HiM|g Mr, iiiifik who iy piijit# of hi*
rough garb ts a well-informed, pleasant
young gentleman. “Per mv part I have
never yet gotten rid of the Idea that if
one could really find the end of the bow
he woald also find the treasure.”
“Yes, certainly,” says Aunt Tina, with
a smile, “if he could find the end of the
bow.”
“Mr. Monk,” questions a sharp, higli
pitched voice at this moment, “where do
you flunk that end of the rainbow is?”
Mr. Monk turns his head to follow the
direction pointed out by the nervous
brown finger.
“That,” he repeats, with a mischievous
twinkle in his eye. “Why, down Turner’s
Point, to be sure.”
“I believe, Mr. Monk,” says Aunt Tina
again, “that you told me many beautiful
stones of rare value had been found in
the rugged cliff* of the canyon?”
“Yes,” returns Mr. Monk, “several
fine rubies, sapphires and emeralds have
been picked up, it is said, but none of
late. I have never been so fortunate as
to find one myself,” with a smile* “but
tho guides who were here before me
stumbled upon aa exceedingly fine
emerald in the gorge below Turner's :
Point.”
All the way back to the hotel the
words “Down Turner's Point, to be sure!”
keep beating time, syllable by syllable,
through Swain's busy brain. “Of course
it is,” be reasons. “Where el*c could it
be? Why, hasn’t he seen it with his own
eyes resting right against the rugged
points of the biggest boulder?” He has
marked the place welL There is a
stunted pine at one side and a great
clump of bushes, rhododendrons
Aunt Tina calls them. On the other
there is a great rock that shines in the
sunlight like it is streaked with silver,
with here and there a cluster of beautiful
ferns and mosses, and a tiny cascade
trickling down its sides, Ribbon Cascade,
Mr. Monk calls it. Of course the treasure
is there! And O, how he docs want it!
Not so much for himself as for Aunt
Tina—Aunt Tina whom he loves so dearly
in spite of the thought that sometimes
she is a little too bard on him. But at
others how she does pet and humor him!
And O, they are so happy together! Hap
pier still, perhaps, because in all the
world they have only each other. And
there is Aunt Tina’s book. How hard
she had worked on it, day and night, and
how much she does want it published I
But the hard-hearted publishers, to
whom many pages of the snowy manu
script have been submitted, have de
clared they can’t touch it till a part, at
least, of the money is forthcoming, to
pay for some sort of plates. Swain won
ders what kind of plates they can be, and
what in tho world dishes have to do with
printing. He has ventured to ask Aunt
Tina once, but, being absorbed in her
work, sho has only answered briefly,
“stereotype plates,” and so he is as much
in the dark as ever.
If he could only get that money for
Aunt Tina; which she had never yet been
able to get herself, for Aunt Tina is only
a poor teacher with a meagre salary.
At three o’clock this same afternoon,
when every guest of the house is enjoy
ing his or her siesta, shut in the seclu
sion of their rooms, a slight figure clad
in flannel Knickerbocker, with a sailor
waist of the same, issues, stick in hand,
from a side entrance.
' Ten minutes later the same figure
makes its way along the railroad track to
where a small foothpath turns off to the
left, with a stunted pine near at hand
labeled: “To Turner’s Point.”
“It daesn’t look so very awful!” ex
claims Swain, ns, the path followed, he
stands at length beside a clump of dwarfed
pines and looks down upon the river,
much more peaceful here than a hundred
yards above, where its fury seems to have
been finally expended in the last of the
great cascades.
A strange feeling of awe and dread
steals for a moment into the child's heart,
and ho partly turns as though he would
go back. The next, apparently ashamed
of even this faint show of cowardice, he
grasps his stick firmly and begins to climb
downward.
There is no regular path, but he catches
sight here and there of a trodden tuft of
grass and the shredded twigs of ash and
laurel that show plainly where the foot
| and band of the daring climber have left
their prints.
Very cautiously Swain picks his way at
first, then, as he finds it easier than he
has thought, he grows bolder. Finally,
when about 300 feet dovn, a projecting
ledge stops his further progress. Kneel
ing down, ho crawls to the edge and
looks over.
“The very place?" he cried excitedly,
“and I just know it is down there!”
But the “down there" is fully a hun
dred and fifty feet beneath him, aud is an
other projecting ledge, but much larger,
and thickly covered with ferns and
mosses, over which a thread-like cas
cade trickles.
As he leans further over, a tiny some
thing that glitters in the sun's rays
catches his eve.
It is embedded in the soil of the ledge
a foot or so beneath him.
Reaching down he quickly grasps it,
and then with an exultant little cry
springs to his feet. But the next mo
ment the cry of exultation is changed to
one of supplication and terror, for in the
sudden spring his feet have come in
contact with a treacherous tuft that is
barely hanging to the cliff's edge. As
they press against it, it gives way, and
the next moment he goes headlong over
the ledge.
Up at the hotel all is confusion and
excitement, for he has been missed, aud
the mother-auut, in her agony of terror,
is beseeching landlord, clerk, guide,
waiters, all to go iu search of her darling
boy.
Only too well she surmises that in his
usual fearlessness, and alive with the de
sire to hunt out things for himself, ho is
straying along the dizzy edge of the
dangerous chasm.
It is twenty-four hours before they find
him, and at least a fourth as many more
before, by the aid of ropes and ladders,
he is rescued.
He is conscious and able to tell his
story, though when he is first lifted he
cries out with pain in spite of himself.
One arm lies doubled up under him and
shattered, yet with this exception there
is no other outward sign of hurt.
His de-iceut has been broken by the
various clumps of verdure, and finally
when he has reached the ledge below it
is to fall upon a bed of ferns and mosses.
For a time the shock hus completely
stunned him. When he returns to con
i sciouMiess it is to find that he is unable
to move h i b >dy. But he manages to
reaeu his handkerchief, which he dipt
from time to time iu the cascade near,
I and thus slakes his thirst, and also with
I its damp folds protects his face from the
! tuu’s rays. It is the chill of the long
j dark night that strikes the greater terror
to his heart aud a deathlike numbness to
his cramped limbs.
| re-cue him, but he says nought of these
agaimt the throbbing heart, that all day
and ail night long ha* watched utld
GEORGIA HOME JOURNAL: GREENESBORO, FRIDAY, JULY 30,-ISSi-EIGHT PAGES.
ingly unmindful, overcome at last by the
sight of the agitated loving face, with its
passionate eyes raining hot tears down
upon his own, he sobs out the whole story
of his hopes and longings for her, the ar
dent desires that cling so fondly about the
| dear, dear book.
Clutched tightly in the palm of his
; uninjured haau he still holds the precious
| sparkling thing, which, now that he is
I cafe within her sheltering arms, he dis
! closes to the view of ail.
Not till the next day, however, when
i the brave, leyal fellow is struggling in
the delirium of fever, is the value of his
find discovered. It is an emerald un
usually large and clear.
“I will give him one thousand dollars
for it uncut as it is!” declares a young
jeweler from New Orleans, who, to do
him credit, is much more touched by the
pathetic story sobbed out on the mother
aunt’s bosom than he is by the probable
value, or the exquisite beauty of the gem.
“I lost just two hundred and fifty dol
lars, hard cash, by the investment,” he
says to the same friend a year later, “but
I assure you I have never regretted it.”
Aunt Tina’s book is out, aud a success.
As to Aunt Tina herself, where she
made pleasure trip3 of a week before, she
now makes them of months, and she is
never seen anywhere without her attend
ant Swain.
As to this same Swain, he is a hand
some, active fellow indeed, in spite of
the fact that ono arm hangs stiff and
almost helpless—an ever-present re
minder of the time when he went down
Turner’s Point! —Winthrop Burroughs.
Rain-Charms.
There arc many bits of verse still re
peated in England and Scotland to make
the rain cease. This usage is mostly con
fined to children, and probably it is not
now practised with any serious thought
of effecting the purpose. Like the cus
tom of wearing beads, which has lived
on from a time when beads were regarded
as amulets, having the power to keep off
disease or other bodily evil, this practice
of repeating rain-charms has come to us
from very early times.
We know that in Greece, some two
thousand years ago, tho children at play
used to call out to the sun to come back
again whenever it was hidden by a pass
ing cloud.
In England, where rains are more fre
quent than in Greece, and where they
interfere seriously with out-of-door pas
time, the children bawl out in chorus,
during a shower, this rude couplet:
“Rain, rain, go to Spain;
Fair weather, come again.”
This hearty wish for a good and final
riddance of the disagreeable rain is
always accompanied with an imprecation
of the evil upon some unpleasant neigh
bor. Spain of course was chosen as the
unfortunate country, because of the jingle
of the rhyme with rain. Here are some
lines repeated during a hailstorm. They
are clearly of Scotti-h origin:
“Rain, rain, rattle-stanes,
Dinna rain on me;
Eut rain on Johnnie Groat’s house,
Far ower the sea. ' 1
There is one of these rain-charms more
amicable than the others, since it wishes
no ill to any one else, reported from
Northumberland. From the childish
good-nature of its plea, it ought certainly
to prevail:
“Rain, rain, go away,
Come again auother day:
When I brew and when I bake,
I’ll gie you a little cake." .
Sometimes in the summer, rain falls
fast through the sunshine. At such times,
when the boys have their sport broken off
by this peculiar and beautiful exhibition,
they call out:
• “Sunny, sunny shower,
Come on for naif mi hour;
Gar a' the hens cower,
Gar a’ the sheep clap;
Gar ilka wife in Lammermuir
Look in her kail-pat."
The Scottish origin of this is evident
from its dialect. The reason for looking
inthe “kail-pat” (cabbage-kettle) must be
j easily understood by many. The rain
generally washes down some particles of
soot from a wide chimney, of the old cot
tage fashion of Scotland. The pot, sim
mering over the fire, with its lid half
raised, is of course apt to receive a few of
these, which it is the duty of the good
housewife to look for and remove.—
Youth's Companion.
Yellowstone Park.
In answer to an inquiry, the Brooklyn
Eagle conveys the following interesting
information about the country’s national
park: Y’ellnwstone Park is a public do
main two-thirds as large as Connecticut
and mostly included in Southwestern
Montana. Its natural scenery is magnifi
cent and its geysers, hot springs, fumar
oles, paint pots, canons and cliffs of glass
unparalleled in the world. It lies at a
height of from 3,000 to 8,000 fret above
sea level, the climate is cool and bracing
and tho nights always cold. Game and
fish abound and facilities for camping are
fair. The cheapest and most feasible ap
proach to the bark is via the Northern
Pacific Railroad to Livingston, Mon.,
thence by branch to Gardiner City, from
which point one must travel horseback
or in wagon. An outfit can perhaps bo
had quite as cheaply at Bozeman or Liv
ingston as at the edge of the park. A
party making the tour will require nt
least one guide, and cooking utensils,
blankets, tents and supplies must be ob
tained before beginning the trip. To see
the various geyser basins, Mammoth Hot
Springs, Y'eliowstone Lake aud <3raud
Canon will require about a week of team
ing. The expense for a single person
may be roughly estimated as follows:
Railroad fares (from New Y'ork), in
cluding berths, $150; team and guides
through park, $100; supplies aud meals
cn route, $75; total, $325. The park is
about 2,000 miles westward from New
Y’ork.
Praying and Dieting.
Rev. J. T. Clyiner in his admirable
little work on "Food and Morals” sees
clearly the means to he tried in the fol
lowing case aud a great rainy like it. In
fact it points to the remedy in many
evils: “A fa'her, by prayer and
precept and flogging, had done ids he-t
to reform his boy, whose staple diet
was meat and sn i-nneand pie and cake
nt his me. Is, with lunch between. The
family physician said to the father:‘lf
you will put a leech hick of inch of
your boy's ears once a week for a month
you will do more to reform him than
your preaching and pounding will do in a
year.’ The father asked for the philoso
phy of this prescription. ‘Way,'said
the doctor, ‘your hoy has had blrw>d and
too much of it; he must behave badly or
he would burst. ’ ‘ Then, ’ said the
father, Til change his diet from beef
and pie to hominy and milk.’ In three
months thereafter a better (toy of his age
could not be found in the neighborhood.
The acrid, biting, evil blood had not
become food for leeches, but had done
its wicked work hii<J p hwh! swuy, itutl
h cool order, blunder power, bUod
h*i !> ‘<*n • ipplit*! from tweeter, gentler
PATENTS.
ENTERTAINING TALK WITH A
PATENT OFFICE EMPLOYE.
How Money is Made and Lost by
Patents—Some Patent Law
yers—Railroads and Inven
tions—Queer Patents. *
A gentleman standing very high in the
Patent Office at Washington said in the
course of a conversation with the Cleve
land Leader correspondent:
“The extent of the work of the Pat
ent Office is wonderful, and it increases
•very year. There were 8,000 more pat
eats granted last year than there were
ten years ago, and ihe applications filed
for patents last year numbered 35,000.
The Patent Office is the only office of the
government, I think, that more than
pays its expenses. It has a surplus of
over $2,000,000 in the Treasury Depart
ment, and it made clear $140,000 above
all of its expenses last year.”
“Do inventors generally make money
out of patents?”
“No, as a rule the money is made by
people who buy or swindle the inventors
out of their rights. Inventors are nearly
always poor men. They work their
brains for their bread and butter. They
are a visionary set of fellows, and be vs
not the meney making sense. They get
in with business men in order to develop
their patents, and these euchre them out
of the profits. The man who invented
the elevated railroad in New York died
a poor man, and while he was alive the
people laughed at his idea. It is so with
hundreds of other patents, and if you
will look over the history of the Patent
Office you will find it is the business men
who make the money, while the inven
tors do tho work. Some patent
lawyers make a great deal of
money, and there are a number
in Washington who have grown
wealthy in the practice. There is a man
here named Pollock who has made a
fortune in the patent law. He had some
thing to do with the Goodyear rubber
patent, and he has been prospering ever
since. He owns a fine mansion on the
corner of Seventeenth and I streets,
and tried the experiment one time of
making a stablo for his horses in the
basement. All tho modern improve
ments, however, in tho shape of water
would not do away with the smell, and
he finally gave it up as a bad job. Many,
patent lawyers, when they see that a
man has a good thing, contract with him
to get out his patent for a certain amount
of money and some shares in the stock
of the patent. They get paid for their
work with the money and have a fair,
chance of making a fortune out of the.
profits of the patont if it turns out well.
There are hundreds of patent lawyers
in Washington. Many of thorn are smart
fellows and all of them are making
money.”
“I see they talk about having cable
street railroads here. Is there much ad
vancement in this line of patents?”
“Yes, indeed; there is a great deal.
The cable road is a comparatively recent
invention, and there are hundreds of
patents filed for grips and other things
connected with it. You would be sur
prised to know how many patents are ap
plied for for railroad inventions. New
ideas for rails, switches, and ties are be
ing put forward every day. The railroad
tie of the future is yet to be patented. It
requires very good hard wood to make a
tie, and this class of wood is being fast
cut out of the country. Railroad building
has reached such a point that there is not
enough wood to supply the ties, and a
new invention has got to be made. Thero
are now something under 300,000 miles
of railroad in the world, and about 120,-
000 miles of these are in the United
States. Ties wear out, and the time
will come when there will be no wood to
replace them. Wo have already patents
given on glass tios, ties of iron, and ties
made of paper and wood pulp. Another
set of articles that has been patented
largely of late years is fences and fence
posts. The old wooden fence has
seen its best days, and the wire
fence is rapidly taking its place. A
great many inventors devote them
selves solely to making patents for kitch
en utensils, and others work upon ma
chines relating entirely to water. A
great many of the railroads and machine
shops and factorios of various kinds keep
inventors who do nothing olse but work
upon the specialties of the factories in
which they are employed. Women make
a great many patents, but these deal
chiefly with household matters, or with
their own work. There has been a great
deal of electrical invention during the
past few years, and it is perfectly won
derful how rapidly the patents come in
after any success in any particular branch
of invention. A great accident always
brings in patents to prevent its occur
rence in the future, and wfcen a big fire
occurs at any of tne big hotels with a
great loss of life the fire escapes roll in
by the hundreds.”
“Have you many patents for perpetual
motion?”
“Yes, hundreds are applied for, but
they are not granted. I remember once
a man walked from Kentucky to Wash
ington to patent a perpetual motion, and
one of your Ohio newspaper men, not
long ago, telegraphed to the Associated
Press that the invention of perpetual mo
tion had at last been conceived some
where in Ohio. I should think that
Washington would be a good place for
an inventor to work. By going to the
Patent Office he could see all that had
been done in the line upon which he was
working, and he might see where a cog
here or a wheel there would perfect some
patent which would be worth tens of
thousands of dollars where it is now
worth nothing.”
The Lion Throne.
Few of our contempories made any
special reference to the throne upon
which her Majesty was seated at tho
opening of the Colonial exhibition. As
a matter of fact, it was none other than
the royal seat of the Lion of Punjaub,
Runjtet S.ngli himself, the chief of the
trophies sent home from lahore after
the glorious c unj aign on the Five Riv
er j. Tbit some of the morning papers
spoke of it a- a elmir may bo due to tho
fact that a cushionod lining, specially
molded upon one of the royal chairs at
Ruckiugham ['slice, hod beeu fitted
into the famous throne. It was a curi
ous coincidence that nt almoit the same
moment the so-called “hoir” to the Sikh
sovereignty should have been soliciting
the sympathy of his compatriots in the
Punjttub, while here in Imudon the Km
|irti‘S of India should have been seated
upon the veritable lion throne of that
once potent nation — Hi. Jam**'* Qaxtttt,
A Change of Opinion.
Before the beauteous Itssid he ved,
Willie vet his uniont wooing *! and,
Oil with udiuiring looks he said
j'lidt )i> nv on wm in !**r t?YM mtd fntw
lt.it lie w lam 1 1 .Mil the lodge he lues
And thmk* It** It*tit Ttt fi* • Mud
CiMitl|UlW)y fiOttl {fed • t- Wf' it|(4 **.
ROSE AND DAISY.
s Daisy lifted her eyes to the Rose
(The Daisy that grew so low).
At the summer day’s dim, shadowy close,
When the south wind began to blow,
And the blush of the sky at the parting
Of the sun was paling slow.
And she wondered why, as Daisies will,
God made the Rose so fair;
And, drowsily nodding, wondered still
Til] sleep o’er took her there—
A sleep so deep, she knew it not
When the south wind touched her hair.
But the south wind's touch aroused a dream
Iu a heavenly garden plot
Beside a clear and winding stream
That fed the forget-me-not;
They two did seem it was but a drea
To grow, and share one lot!
They two did grow as sisters dear,
And the Daisy’s weary head,
With never a thought of doubt or fear,
On the Rose’s breast was laid—
For the mother-heart stooped aud drew it
noir—
The little, motherless heal!
But the night wind passed, u:id the Daisy
woke;
And queenly above her there
The Rose smiled on. The morning broke
And flushed the sapphire air,
And she wondered still, as Daisies will,
Why Roses grow so fair!
— Jcs-phine A. Cus3.
itiTi and point.
The skeleton man travels on his shape.
A good place for a loaf—A baker's
shop.
A man who always cuts an acquaint
ance—The barber.
A cloth, s call is made by the laundry
robber Waterloo Observer.
Uniform prices—What the tailor
chargis for soldiers’ clothes.
Poople who throw banana skins at large
are now called bananarchists.
The cyclone raises everything on the
farm but the mortgage.— Boston Post.
The “melting look” must come from
the man with “lire in his eye.”—States
man.
Washingtonians are happy people.
Every one of them is a capitalist.— Free
Press.
Love may be blind, but in some way
it generally manages to get on to a man’s
bank account. —Uti City Blizzard.
It must be glorious fun to go courting
in Greenland. The nights are about
three months long. —Burlington Free
Press.
Speaking of flies, a Burlington base
ball player says: “They come high, but
we must have them. ” —Burlington Free
I*ress.
The small boy learning tho alphabet
is very much like the postage stamp—he
often gets stuck on a letter. —Boston
Bulletin.
First love and first shave come but
once in a man’s lifetime. And neither
usually has much result. —Somerville
Journal.
When a man falls in love he courts his
swietheart. Afterward she sues for a
breach of promise and courts her lover.
—New Haven News.
Although they claim that love is blind,
A sad experience will disclose
’Tis diflicult to be resigned
To boils upon your sweetheart’s nose.
— l*ittsburg Gazette.
The bricks with which many Egyptian
tombs were built are as perfect after foui
thousand years as when they were made.
They evidently were pressed for time.—
Texas Siftings.
“Pa. what does nobby mean?” “Sty
lish, my dear.” “Well, then, pa, youi
nose must be very stylish, for grandms
says you have got the knobbiest nose in
town. ” — Siftings.
“Isn’t it heavenly!” ejacnlated Miss
Gush, in reference to Miss Pedal’s per
formance on the piano. “Y’es,” replied
Fogg, “it is indeed heavenly. It sounds
like thunder.”— Boston Transcript.
“Grandpa,” said Teddy, as the old
gentleman woke up from a loud sounding
after dinner nap, “if you’d give your
nose a spoonful of paregoric don’t you
think you could put it to sleep too?’ ;
Burdette.
One of the Lynn primary school teach
ers a few days since asked her scholars
the question: “What is dust?” One lit
tle fellow answered: “Please, inarm, it
is dirt with the water squeezed out.”—
Lynn Item.
A tramp who had been furnished with
a good breakfast, was invited to saw
some wood after he had finished.
“Thanks, awfully,” he said, “but I don’t
consider it healthy to work between
meals. ” — Siftings.
When you’ve told your little story
And have settled to the glory,
Of extravagant narration most successfully
displayed,
How you turn a bilious yellow
When you hear some other fellow.
With his wretched “That reminds me," lay
you snugly in the shade.
—Pittsburg Gazette.
Again the zephyrs sigh along the leas,
Aud blooms the violet and buttercup,
Now softly blows the balmy western breeze,
And the thermometer is going up.
The golden dandelion nods its head.
Again we feel the odor of the briar,
And “Thomas” re-appears upon the shed
At night to warble to his loved “Muriar.”
—Boston Courier.
Praying in a Hurricane.
I heard a very amusing story the other
day in connection with the recent hurri
cane. A gentleman quite well known in
this city was hurrying along to reach his
home, when the storm burst upon the
city in all its fury. He sought refuge in
a house where there were a number of
ladies congregated, all of whom were
frantic with terror. After a little the
storm increased in fury, the house rocked
and swayed be'ore the furious winds,
several windows were blown in, and it
looked as though the whole building
would bo destroyed. The women rushed
around wringing their hands, crying
and bemoaning their fate, when suddenly
one rushed up to the gentleman and fran
tically besought him to offer up a prayer.
In a moment he was surrounded by the
other women, who clung to him and
begged him to pray. He was not by any
means collected himself, and besides, not
at all up in prayers, but there was no
escape for him, so he prepared to comply
with their request. He knelt down, but
owing to the excited condition of his
mind and to the fact that he had not
prayed for a long time, he found himself
utterly unequal to the occasion, He
couldn't think of anything. He was
dumb. Soon lie became desperate, and
without a thought hi to it* appropriate
ness he pronounced the following briei
eiortation, which he remembered to have
formed a part of the grace hi* father used
to say many years a go: “Oh, Lord,
make us thankful for that whUh we an
snout to receive." Just then three or foui
windows blew in, a couple of chimneys
blew over ami the prayer iiKctiug hroks
up in confusion. Aimed* City
NEW ADVERTISEMENTS.
Victory! Victory! Victory!
i^-IVEAZEY’SXti
Emlm Horse® Cali Powders
For Cattle, Sheep, Hogs, Chickens,
Ducks and Geese.
ATTENTION, FARMERS * STOCK DEALERS.
It Is with pleasure that I am enabled to present to the fanners and
agriculturalists of the country an article equally adapted for Horses, Cat
tle, Hogs, Sheep and Poultry. .
y
Its beneficial effects are not confined to the diseased and unhealthy
animal, but when given in proper doses to a perfectly healthy animal it
will improve its digestion; strengthening the whole physical condition,
producing a fine, smooth skin, and freeing the blood from all grass humors.
It will also be found of essential service for Coughs, Influenza and Epi
zootic.
=|FOR COWS.|
Its effects are wonderful with cows, increasing the quantity and im
proving the quality of the milk. It increases the appetite and promotes
digestion of the food, thus giving the cow a perfectly healthy and thrifty
condition of the system, and she will then produce fine milk and butter.
A tablespoonful of the powder should be given well mixed with the
food, two or three times a week.
—ra|FOß
For Hogs with Coughs, Swelled Necks, Ulcers of the Lungs, and for
Cholera, it is excellent. For healthy hogs it will be found of wonderful
profit in adding immensely to their flesh, turning the fluids, which would
otherwise pass off into fat.
V
=jFOR SHEEP.K ' —-
For Sheep it will be found very beneficial, especially for ewes when
giving milk to lambs.
POULTRY.|^=
For Poultry Complaints, mix one tablespoonful of the powders with
about two quarts of feed and give twice a week. It is a good preventive
from all diseases.
These Powders contain fourteen ingredients in their compound, of which
thirteen are vegetable.
PREPARED BY
W. E. VEAZEY, - - Veazey, Georgia-
STRONG ENDORSEMENT.
Veazey, Ga., May 29, 1886.
Mr. W. E. Veazey, Greene County, Ga.
Dear Sir:
Yours of the 26th inst. to hand, in which you request my estimate of
the remedial and medicinal properties of your “Egyptian” Horse and Cat
tle Powders, a formula of which you gave me some time ago. I desire to
say that I made a most thorough investigation of the several ingredients
contained in your powders, and unhesitatingly pronounce it a most wonder
ful compound. It is almost entirely vegetable, and is absolutely one of
the best preparations for the diseases of the Stomach, Bowels and other
Organs of the Abdominal Cavity that I know of. It must necessarily
prove a fine cattle preparation, as it is a powerful stimulant of the secre
tory organs. It is a blood purifier, and in lung and kidney troubles will
be most salutary.
Wishing you success, I am
Very Respectfully,
W. F. HAILES, M. D.
P. S. I desire to state further, that I have used some of the powders
on a cow that I have, and the improvement in her condition, and the
increase of milk, has been remarkable. W. F. H.
Jas. G. BALIIE A SONS,
HAVE REMOVED THEIR
CARPET STOCK!
FROM 713 TO 714 BROAD STREET, (South Sido),
DR. CALHOUN’S NEW BUILDING,
(next to MR. x. and. Kirrrnx’B oxocwenr trroiut.)
vyp. win enoUmie to -11 Ourpeta, On ruin., Window 81.aU.-. and Hou*, FurntoUnw V
Jpun£ ' 7 * ,or OABH "°* day. urn*. *
TAME3S O. BAILIE db SONS,
714 Broad Street, (South Bide), AUGUSTA, GA.