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VOLUME VI.
THE NEW CHURCH HOC
TRINE.
BY WILL CARLETON.
There’s come a singular doctrine, Sue,
luto our church to-day,
These cur’us words are what the new
Young preacher had to say:
That literal everlastiu’ fire
Was mostly iu our eye;
That sinners dead, if they desire,
Carr get another try;
He doubted if a wanner clime
Than this world could be proved,
The little snip, I tear sometime
He’ll get bis doubts removed.
I've watched my duty, straight an’ tiue,
An’ tried to do it well;
l’rtit of the time kept heaven in view,
An’ part steered clear o’ lrcll;
An’ now half of this work is naught,
If 1 must list to hinr,
An’ this ’ere devil I have fought
Was only just a whim;
Vain are the dangers I have braved,
The sacrifice they cost;
For what fun is it to be saved,
If no one ehe is lost ?
Just think! Suppose, when once I view
The heaven I’ve toiled to win,
A lot of unsaved sinners, too,
Come walkin’ grandly iu
An’ acts to home, same as if they
Had read their titles clear;
An’ looks at me as it to say,
“We’re i>lad to see you here ? ”
As if to say, “-While you have beeu
So fast tc too the mark
We warted till it rained, an’ then
Got tickets for the ark. ”
Yet there would be some in that crowd
I’d rather like to see;
My boy Jack—it must be allowed,
There was no worse than he.
I’ve always lelt somewhat to blame,
In several different ways,
That he lay down on thorns o’ shame
To end his boyhood's days;
An’ I\l be willin’ to endure,
If that the Lord thought best,
A minute’s quite hot temperature
To clasp him to my breast.
Old Captain Barnes was evil’s sou—
With heterodoxy crammed;
I used to think he’d be the one
If any one was damned,
Still, w’hen I saw a lot o’ poor,
That he had clothed and fed,
Cry desolately round liis door
As soon as lie was dead,
There came a thought I couldn’t control,
That in some neutral land
I’d like to meet that scorched up soul
An’ shake it by the hand.
•
Poor Jennie Willis, with a cry
Of hopeless, sad distress,
Sank sudden down, one night, to die
All iu her ball-room dress.
She had a precious tittle while
To pack up an’ awaj,
She even left her sweet, good smile—
’Twas on her face next day.
Her soul went on unclothed by even
One stitch of saving grace;
How could she hope to go to heaven
And start trom such a place?
But ouce, when I lay sick an’ weak,
She came and begged to stay;
She kissed my faded, wrinkled cheek;
She soothed my pain away;
She brought to me bouquets of flowers
As fresh as her young heart;
Through many long an’ tedious hours
She played a chiistiau part;
An : ere long I will stun’ arouu’
The singin’ saints among
I’ll try to take some water down
To cool poor Jennie’s tongue.
But tears can never quench my creed,
Nor smooth God’s righteous frown,
Though all the preachers learn to read
Their Bibles upside down,
I hold mine right side up with care
To shield my eyes from sin,
And coax the Lord, with daily prayer
To call poor wanderers in;
But if the sinners won’t draw nigh,
An’ tfke salvation’s plan,
I’ll have to stan’ and see ’em try
To dock?© hell if the can.
Two lawyers when a knotty caso was o’er,
Shook hands and were as good friends os be
fore.
‘’Zounds !” said the losing client, “how came
you
To be such friends, who were such foes just
now ?”
“Though fool!” says one ; “we lawyers though
so keen, • •
Like shears, ne’er cut ournelyes, but what’s
between. ”
Docs it hurt a joke to crack it ?
§Pp Eastman fpme&
TIIE WRONG UMBRELLA.
An Every Day Story.
It is lamentable that the moral sense
of mankind takes so little account of
the rights of property as regards books
and umbrellas. Many people who are
in moist respects excellent members of
society will borrow books without
stint, and, if they do not return them
minus the covers, will keep them with
out compunction, and when you hint
that they had them rather long, will
utter: ‘Confound the fellow, does he
think that I want to steal his books?’
I have hud differences with my best
friends on this score, and have ever
been asked whether I had not better
line everybody who retained my valu
able volumes beyond a fixed time, as
if I were a village library. Such in**
suits have been borne with meekness,
because I have always remembered
with remorse how I once reveled in
the thought ol having made away with
Johnson’s umbrella. The laxity of
the public morals in the matter of um
brellas is truly awful, but retribution
will sometimes overtake him who plots
against his neighbor's parachute. Let
me tell how it overtook me:
A long time ago I was madly enam
ored of Mary Jane Bowles. Mary
Jane was what you might call a pocket
V enus, and oft have 1 been tempted to
tuck her under my arm like a packet
of sugar, and fly to the nearest desert
land. She was a artless girl, and very
fond of society—especially the society
of young men with whom I was not
on terms of arcent friendship. I did
not blame fir this, and when she invi
ted me to tea, and I found Johnson
had also been invited, my discerning
eye observed that this was not coquet
ry but pure exliubeiance of spirits.
Mr. Bowls, I noticed, was of the
same opinion, and it was a great sat
isfaction to me to have my judgment
confirmed by so experienced a parent.
Mrs. Bowles, had she been alive,would
no doubt have agreed with us.
1 had known Mary Jane since she
wore short frocks. Johnson had known
her about a month. It was pleasant
to hear her call me Sam and him Mr.
Johnson, but somehow the familiarity
in my case seemed to have bred not
contempt —0, clear, no, nothing of that
kind—but a sat of nonchalance of
manner. (How useful the French
language is when one wants to express
a very delicate sh>de of meaning.)
But that was her artlessness.
‘Dear me, Sam,’ she observed at the
tea-table, ‘what have } T ou got such a
long face for?'
Johnson's attentions had male me
a little pensive.
‘Something must be long to make up
for the prevailing shorness/ I said.
Johnson wasn't much taller than
Mary Jane. I made a note of that
sarcasm afterward. My impromptus
are too often lost.
‘Don't bo impertinent, sir! Look
into that Your face is exactly
like the reflection you see there—isn't
it Mr. Johnson?’
He grinned.
It vvas then I observed for the first
time the singular breadth of his visage.
His grin seemed to extend across the
room.
‘lf Mr. Johnson will hold the spoon
horizontally he may admire his own
image,’ I said playfully.
Johnson grinned again. He was
one of those extremely good-natured
men, whom it is almost impossible to
annoy.
‘Sam, you are outrageous,' said
Mary Jane. ‘Mr. Johnson and I are
going to practice our duet. You stop
here and talk to pa.'
Mr. Bowles had to be aroused from
the doze into which he usually dropped
alter tea. It was in that habit that
ray penetration had detected his cons
viction that Mary Jane was an artless
creature.
Pa woke up and asked me what
were my views on tramways. His
composition w r as a fine, crusty conser
vatism, and he disliked innovations.
His port wine was fine and crusty, too,
but that is by the way.
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JUNE 6, ISTS.
I was listening to the duet overhead,
and had a very indistinct idea of what
I was saying myself. I canuot sing,
but it was not for that reason that I
objected to the preposterously operatic
way in which Johnson was conducting
himself.
‘Tramways, my dear sir, ore, as you
so justly observe, the chief scourge of
mankind From the earliest times they
lave been noted for their hostility to
human virtue, and ’
I have lands and proud dwellings,
And all shall be thine,
sang Johnson, up stairs
‘And it is, as you say, monstrous
that landed proprietors and bloated
householders should over-ride the pop
ular protest in this matter, especially
as we know that—that for purposes of
drainage, tramways are ’
‘My dear boy, you are not well,’ in
terrupted Mr. Bowles kindly. ‘Have
a glass of wine.’
When I left the house that evening
I was thoughtful. It struck me that
Johnson had Mary Jane in his mind’s
**ye. I could not damage that organ
of vision, so I decided that nothing
would be gained by hitting him. But
something would have to be done. I
wanted to marry Mary Jane. She
was a charming girl, and her father
had a liitle money.
My suspicions about Johnson were
confirmed next day. I met a lively
friend who said:
‘Oh, yon know Johnson?'
‘Well?'
‘He's going in for the little Bowles,
lie told me he should propose to her
tomorrow night when he takes Her
home from Twig's party.'
‘Ferdition!'
‘Eh? Slap up gii-1, isn't she?
Thought you were sweet that way?*
‘Herd— Oh, no, not at all. There's
m3 omnibus. By-by.'
Going to propose when he took h n r
home from Twig's! By all the pow
ers, lie should not take her home fr >m
Twig's!
It had been * agreed that I should
escort Mary Jane to the halls of Twi **.
Iu was a fine night apparently, but I
took my umbrella. It was anew one
surmounted by an alligator’s head in
German silver. Fervently I invoked
Jupiter Pluvius to befriend me, and
hoped that Johnson wou’d leave his
umbrella at home.
It was less than ten minutes’ walk,
but there was time enough to show a
little preliminary tenderness, if not to
put the grand question itself. With
an artless girl like Mary Jane it was
best to approach such a subject by
degrees.
‘'Twas just such a night as this,' I
said softly, ‘when you and I, Mary
Jane, trod the grassy turf beside that
murmuring brook ’
‘Oh, I remember!' she exclaimed,
laughing in her guileless way. ‘I
know what you are going to say. That
was the time you fell over the stile,
running away from the bull. And
your nose was done up in sticking
plaster, you know; and you scratched
my face with it, sir!'
I had forgotten that circumstance,
but what did it matter?
‘Yes, Mary Jane,' I said passionate
ly; ‘and why did my nose scratch
your face? Because my lips were seek
ing that paradise which now '
‘Good evening, Miss Bowles.'
It was Johnson. I saw his grin in
the moonlight,and—confusion—he had
brought bis umbrella.
There was a little dancing at Twig's
but I had not pleasure in it. My mind
was full of Johnson's umbrella. It
came before my diseased vision like
Macbeth's dagger. I clutched at it,
aud I had it not.
Time wore on. I stood at the win
dow alone and looked out at the wea
ther. Heavy clouds obscured the
moon. Heavy drops began to fall.
Then the temptation had me in its grip.
‘His umbrella!' I gasped; ‘l'll hide
it.'
‘lt,s going to be a nasty night after
all,' said a hated voice at my elbow.
‘I believe only you and I have brought
umbrellas. There’ll beau awful scrim-
mage for cabs. Luckily we haven't
far to walk,
He was grinning mere than ever,
but he could not have heard me. A
cab would not suit him, of course! He
wanted to walk home with Mary Jane
slowly—very slowly—so that—frenzy 1
I would do the deed. I would throw
his umbrella
‘Oh, Sam, do take me down to re
freshments. I asked Mr. Johnson, but
be has forgotten me.'
She looked up into my face so be
witchingly that my heart thumped as
if it were a door-kuocker in the grasp
of a demon postman. He knew she
was thirsting for claret, and yet he
left her. Her! Careless brute! What
a husband be would make! Whereas,
in me—in me—she would find—
‘Mary Jane,’ I whispered, as we left
the giddy crowd that stood around
the liquids; ‘Mary Jane, may I see
you home?'
‘lf you are a good boy perhaps you
may. But here is Mr Johnson, and I
owe him a dance.’
He took her away, but she looked
back at me with a smile. I really
nener saw such an artless girl in all
my life.
And now, to make assurance doubly
sure, I crept up stairs to the room
where the umbrellas had been left.
The gas was out and the window open.
Ihe melancholy voices of divers cats
seemed to protest against the crime,
but my nerves were firm. I could see
nothing. No matter. I knew where
my enemy bad put his umbrella. I
groped for it. I grasped it by the
ferruled end. Just then a footstep
startled me. I rushed to the window
and dropped the hateful thing into the
black abyss below. There was a splash.
I felt a sardonic joy. He had brought
his umbrella for fear of rain. Well,
it might do its duty in the waterbutt.
I listened. All vvas quiet. The next
room was in darknes. There could be
no one there. I went down to the re
freshment room, drank a glass of wine,
chatted a while with Mrs.* Twig, and
recovered my self-possession. Then I
sought Mary Jane. Johnson had just
crossed the room to her when I enter
ed. Suddenly she was seized with a
violent fit of coughing. I ran for a
glass of water. When I returned the
coughing became worse than ever.
Yet that unfeeling monster, Johnson,
grinned till I thought the corners of
his mouth would meet in the nape of
his neck.
When I asked if she felt better,
Mary Jane went off again, and pres
ently the cough was so bad that she
had to leave the room. I remarked to
Johnson that she must have caught
cold; and then he coughed. No-doubt
she had been out on the balcony with
him to see whether the rain had ceased.
But wait a little my grinning friend!
Everybody was now going away.
With a fiendish delight I saw John
son walk up-stairs to get his hat and
coat and his Ila! ha! I waited
till he came down. He was perfectly
cool, and—did my eyes mock me?—
he had in his hand an umbrella! I
could not see the handle, but of course
it vvas mine. The fellow's impudence
staggered me. I tore up into the room
above. There was no umbrella there.
It'was mine!
I went down, resolved to make an
example of Johuson. He stood in the
hall, leisurely putting on his gloves.
‘Excuse me,' I said calmy, ‘but you
have got my umbrella.'
‘I think not/ he replied with his ev
erlasting grin.
‘But you have, sir. There can be
mistake about it. Pray is your um
brella handle an alligator’s head in
Germ— in solid silver?'
T think not/ said Johnson coolly.
He held up the umbrella.
It was not mine!
1 am not quite ready, Sam. What's
the matter? Oh, dearl And Mrs.
Twig says she has lent every umbrella
she has. Are you sure you brought
it? Ob, thank, you, Mr. Johnson!
Good night, Sam; Mr. Johnson will
see me home. It isn’t raining mnch,
aud you won't get wet if you run all
the way.'
I don’t know whether I got wet or
not. For that matter, I don’t know
how I got home. I believe the Twigs
thought I had been drinking too much.
Perhaps I bad, or how could I have
thrown the wrong umbrella out of the
window? It was found some weeks
after, and when it was brought to me
in a pulpy condition by young Twig,
who is the smallest of wags, he sug
gested that I should adopt a water
butt and umbrella as a crest. John
son proposed to “the little Bowles”
during that walk home. They aie
married now. That umbrella business
remained a mystery, but I am still
convinced of the artlessness of Mary
Jane.
Facts Worth Remembering.
One thousand shingles laid four in
ches to the weather will cover 100
square feet of surface, and five pounds
of shiugle-naiis will fasten them.
One fifth more siding and flooring is
needed than the number.of square feet
of surface to be covered, because of
the lap in the siding and matching of
the floor.
One thousand laths will cover sev
enty yards of surface, and eleven
pounds of lath-nails will nail them on.
Eight bushels of good lime, sixteen
bushels of sand and one bushel of hair
will make enough mortar to plaster
100 square yards.
A cord of stones, three bushels of
lime and a cubic yard of sand will lay
100 cubic feet of wall.
Five courses of brick will lay one
in height on a chimney. Nine bricks
in a course will make a flue eight in.
ches wide and twenty inches long, and
eight bricks in a comse will make a
flue eight inches wide and sixteen
inches long.
A box twenty-eight inches by fifteen
and one-fifth inchqs square, and eight
inches deep, will contain a bushel.
A box tw r elve inches by eleven and
one-half inches square, and nine inches
deep, will contain a half bushel.
A box eight inches by eight inches
square, and eight inches deep, contains
a peck.
The Bright Side.
Look on the bright side, it is the
light side. The times may be hard,
but it will make them no easier to wear
a gloomy and sad countenance. It is
the sunshine and not the cloud that
gives beauty to the flower. There is
always before or around us that which
should cheer and fill the heart with
warmth and gladness. The sky is blue
ten times where it is black once. You
have troubles it may be ; so have oth
ers. None are free from them, and per
haps it is as well that none should be.
They give sinew and tone to life, for
titude and courage to man. That
would be a dull sea, and the sailor
would never acquire skill where there
is nothing to disturb its surface. It is
the duty of every one to extract ah
the happiness and enjoyment he can
within and without him ; and above
all, he should look on the bright side.
What though things do look a little
dark ? The lane will turn and the night
will end in broad day. In the long
run the great balance rights itself.—
What appears ill becomes well—that
which appears wrong, right, Meu are
not made to hang down their lips, and
those who do only show that they are
departing from the paths of true com
mon sense and right. There is more
virtue in oue sunbeam than in a whole
hemisphere of clouds aud gloom.—
Therefore w r e repeat, look on the bright
side ; cultivate all that is warm and
genial—not the cold and repulsive, the
dark and morose.
A gentleman in Lawrence, Mass.,
has in his possession the identical bill
or programme of the play at Ford’s
Theatre, and which President Lincoln
held in his hands at the time of liis as
sassination on the 14th of April, 1865.
It is now time for the boy to com
mence falling off his stilts and break
ing the second story window.
A Texas editor asks for vegetables
in lieu of spring poetry.
The watermelon is not yet; but tho
pungent radish occasionally scoops in
a small and dyspeptic victim.
A soldier, wounded by a shell, said
lie was right under tho darned thing
when the bottom fell out.
A little darkey, after devouring
three-thirds of a green watermelon,
says, “Thought I nebber should git
fru-it."
A Tennessee editor boasts that his
wife is the best in the State. He says:
“She always meets us with a ‘smile/
and knows just how we like it mixed.’
Circuses are a little backward this
season. Only five of them are the
“biggest show on earth.” Each of tho
other six is simply “the most complete
aggregation ou the road.
The poor man out west wdiosc wife
dealt him triplets the other <*33- looked
at them gloomily and exclaimed :
“Three of a kind and nothing in tho
pot : just my luck.”
When the royal baby of Brazil cries
his nurse remarks, in pure Castillian,
“Now you Louiz Maria Piiillippe do
Alcantara Gastao Miguel Raphael
Gonzaga, you just keep quiet/'
Some school-girls in Pennsylvania
were attacked by rattlesnakes, and
frightened them away by daunting
their red petticoats. “Hear, dear I
why didn't Eve think of that ?'*
The pic-uic season is upon us, when
the young- man, by decorating his hat
with a wreath of oak-leaves, will seek
to attract public attention from tho
custard pieonthesoat of panialoons.
Etlison‘s phonograph can whistle,
sing, howl and jaw, but it can,t throw
a stone at a yowling cat on the bask
fence, or kick a chrorao agent off the
front stoop. There is still lots of room
for improvement.
Mothers should b) very careful to
see that their daughters are well wrap
ped up while sitting on the piazza to
gaze upon the “ Aurora Borealis." A
coat sleeve is good far as it goes, and it
generally goes as far as it can.
An Illinois clergyman meets a heart
broken girl on the train—tells her
there is a better land—supports her
fainting form—helps her off at a small
station, and finds his watch and S2OO
gone. Does it pay to be good ?
At one of the schools in Cornwall,
England, the inspector asked the chil
dren if they could quote any text of
Scripture which forbade a man having
two wives. One of the children sage
ly quoted in reply the text, '‘No m n
can serve too masters."
Whist proverb—“ For want of lead
ing a trump the trick was lost, and for
want of the trick the game was lust,
and for want of the game the rubber
was lost, and for want of the rubber
the temper was lost, and for want of
the temper the friend was lost.'
A soldier was sentenced, for desert
ing, to have his ear <ut off. After un
dergoing the brutal ordeal, ho was es
corted out of the court-yard to the tune
of “Rogue’s March." lie then turned
and in mocking dignity, thus addre s
ed the musicians : ‘Thank you, gen
tlemen, but I have no ear for music.'
NO. 23.