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VOLUME VII.
JI-1 * Vs
i
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP,
BY WALTKB U XlfNfcfl.
Here's health to the girl that refuses
To barter her heart (of a name,
But marries the man that she chooses,
How bumble soever his fame;
For lore w a delicate flower
That glory may crush In his path,
Or the wildtire of honor deYour,
Au scorches the earth in its wrath.
Love and friendship and all,
Ixjve and friendship and all,
Fame in bis folly may trample
On love and friendship and all.
II, re’s joy to the girl that disdains it,
Wlteu Mammon would purchase with gold,
That never cun touch but it stains it,
The heart can never be sold;
For love is a delicate flower,
That lucre pollutes by bis touch;
It witheis and fades from the bower,
It pa»ui>ered by fortune too much.
Lt?ve and friendship aud all,
Love a*’d friendship and all,
W«»lth in u'« splendor may trample
tfin Jove and ln>ad*kip and all.
’VUre'H peace to Ybe girl that despises
The gewgaws of fortune and birth,
Ai d love to the maiden that prize*
The jewels of honor atid worth;
May health and contenttnebt atlebd htt,
Aud earth all its blessings Impart,
May heaven in its kindness befriend her,
And dwell in its temple—her heart.
Love au«^ friendship and all,
I*ove and i/iendship and all,
Heaven in its brightness is open
To love and frie ndship and all.
MltiCELLAA'X
QUEENI JEk.
BY Jem B KEN.
“It's a poor time to crouk, darling,
•on the very eve of your wedding/ said
Mrs. Minturn, looking <lowu at the
bemtilul girl wlw* had thrown herself
at her feet, resting the little head on
her lap, while she toyed with the lux¬
uriant chestnut hair ; “but, oh, Queen
lie, do you realize how serious is the
lespoimilility which now rests with
you V
'Does not my -name auwwer for me
auntie?’ laughingly refilled the guL—
‘Did you not all give it t« me., <doelar
iiug tliis was my l’ttle kingdom ? Aud
now, because I am to have one more
loyal, more devoted *suligect f must you
•doubt V
‘It is because, darling^ it all seems
so light a thing to you, that this fore,
boding weighs on me. Greatly as I
•admire Vance Mitchell^proud as I shall
be of my nephew, with his splendid
talents aud his handsome face, I can
but remember the time when he came
so near throwing them and himself
away, and squandeiing the wealth
Fortune had bestowed on him. Your
Eve saved and redeemed him then. I
•do not doubt itt* power now, or ever.
I only wonder whether, if the dark
hours should come agai:» you would
have ?
strength, darling, to he «till pa
and remember it is a wife's duty
•to bear all/
if Vance could do wrong again 1
Dh, auntie, it is unkind in you to so
•ahadow this hour with that rc mem
biance /
fears stood in the bright blue eyes,
out ft je older woman stooped and kiss
^ ^ IC ® away, il.inkiug what fleeting,
perishable things they were, how near
"the surface, bow different from the
heart-tears which sear and burn, and
Live their iodellible impress. And, a
J u< i aent after, all sorrow was forgotten
-sthe eyes, flashing now, dwelt on the
c »ie of jewels she had received as her
wedding gift.
'V or thy they were the white neck
1 ’* arms of the next day’s bride.—
^ueeuie Clayton had said truly, ihe
h*id reigned in her own kingdom her
hfe long —reigned willfully always,
‘'imperiously at times, but with subjects
1 at loved her well and why,
; as
Queenie Mitchell, when all things look
e 80 bright, so promising ^why
even
SUtl riared not hide himself to-day)
should an« thing be changed ?
She was so proud, so fond, of
handsome husband, as she stood by
bis side, *e*ming snow-drop in
white satin robes, receiving the con
K 1 atulations of their many
‘ afterward it was like some
r u dream, when they cculd
k ‘ave them all behind, and spend
lo ...
where. |‘o Weeks here, thtre aud
Then th er « vyas the
' "
v-’l It i -
lb Ms J m m t ItltF ♦ Qfb ♦
i
That was sweet too ; and the beauti¬
ful new home, her father's gift, was
furnish" d throughout by his most gen¬
erous hand.
‘Vance, dear/ she said, one morning
a few weeks after they had returned,
‘can't I have my own carriage? I hate
to be always sending for father’s, and
I'm tired of walking*
‘I do not see how we can quite af.
ford it Queenie/
He too had adopted the pot home
name.
‘Why, Vance, we are rioh, are we
not ? And I want it so much/
'We are certainly not poor, dear—
only it does not do for a young man to
branch out too much. And you know
darling, there was a wild time in my
life, people have not quite forgot*
ten /
‘But I do not care for people, Vanec.
This is for me, not yon/
The young husband answered noth¬
ing ; but the next day Mrs. Mitchell’s
ponies stood before her door.
She had said truly she was to have
only one more loyal, more devoted sub¬
ject Vance Michell’s love for his wife
grew with each passing hour. He re¬
membered hers always as the hand that
had ch-ecked him in his downward
path, and yet she seemed so fragile, so
slight a thjag, beside his manly
«t*neogtiu that it was as though some
pti-cTons fftayttfl&hag had been intrusted
to his care.
So the years passed on, and one by
one two baby subjects were added to
the kingdom—two lovely baby boys,
with their father's eyes, their mother’s
sunny liair—-only the queen bent now
befor** her subjects. She was the adorer
—they the adored.
The home circle is radiant with hap¬
piness, and Vance Mitchell’s past, those
few years of folly and wild oats, were
forgotten. But is there ever a cloud
less sky ?
‘You look tire I, Vance, said Queenie
o ne evening. Shall I •end the children
aw.ay ?
‘No, dear J‘ drawing them closer as
ha spoke! They rest rather than tire
me; but bu’ 8 i ,ie s s has been more troub¬
lesome lately. T li re are s> many
failures that we’ scarcely know whom
to trust.
‘Oh, dont talk business to me, Vauce!
You know I never could understand
it, except that somew’here I must get
the money to gratify mV wants ; and
they are none too few are they, sir ?
*Nor tow many^ daaling/ he replied
with loving pride; ‘so long as I have
my health and energy to work tor
you/
*
‘Qutenie says I must not talk busi¬
ness to her/ thought the young man,
walking slowly homeward from his
mills, a few mouths later. ‘Poor child 1
It is selfish in me, no doubt, to wish to
do so; yet there are *oine men who
actually consult their wives. But if
things go on as they are going now, it
will he necessary. I wonder if she
would give up the carriage/
But, opening the door # his heart
failed him as it thrilled before the pic¬
ture that met his eyes There Queen
ie sat, in her faultless dinner toilet—
she had never failed in tier duty of
looking pretty for her husband—for
two lovely boys, ono on each arm of
her chair, the three faces bright with
joy at his coming.
‘Bless them !’ he murmured, in his
heart. ‘Can I not work indeed for such
a home-coming as th's ?'
‘Vance/ exclaimed his wife, ‘I have
a plan—think of it I Come, you must
say yes before I ever disclose it. F yt q,
why should I fear ? Have you ever
said no ? Papa is going to Eun , pe an( j
we are all going with him. i not
say you looked tired and needed rest ?
Now you shut up those horrid mills
and go away.*
‘For once, dear, yo\t ask an absolute
impossibility. In t oe condition of the
market, to close, the mills would be
ruin/
‘Oh, Van Co!’ she pouted, 'and I had
go set my heart upon it. I hive never
been to Enrope. It is too baft I ’
‘You may go, darling, with the chil¬
dren, if you wish.
‘Oh^ Vance, may I ?’ she questioned
with a joyousness which cut the man’s
heart like a knife, as he remembered
the picture which but a moment ago
had made him strong for any thing,and
contrasted it with the emptiness of the
future. 'May 1 really? It will only
be for a year, you know. Are you sure
you can spare us ?’
‘Sure that I can do anything for your
best happiness/ he answered gravely.
‘But are you sure that you have indeed
set your heart upon it ?’
<£9 sure, fhat I shall not give ypn
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 13, 1S79.
any time to repent, because you know
Mre are to sail next week . 1
‘You are doing wrong, Queenie/
said her aunt, as the two sat alone to*
gethcr the morning before the steamer
was to sail. ‘Yon must forgive roe,
dear^ but young wife's place is by her
husband‘s side, She is a bulwark of
defense to him, and guards him from a
thousand evils of which she little
dreams. Do give up this trip, darling,
even now/
‘Give it up I Why, auntie, what an
idea 1 As it Vance coiltd not do wlth
out me for a year.
But Mrs. Minturn sadly and disap¬
provingly shook her head.
'Only a year !‘ thought Vance Mitch
ell at the end of the first month of his
enforced bachelorhood. 'Queenie
thought it such a little time. Eleven
more months to live through without
her. How can I do it ?
But business cares pressed heavier
and heavier. How could he write his
young wife that the constant demands
she made upon him taxed all his re¬
sources to meet them ? She was hav¬
ing such a perfect time, she wrote,
that were it not for him she would pro¬
long her stay indefinitely.
The house was closed now. He
could not bear its cheerless, empty
rooms ; and now that he must have his
shoulder so constantly to the wheel, he
ha;l fitted up a bed in the office at the
mills, actually sleeping on a couch in
the bare little room where he labored
all day at his desk. Yet with how lit¬
tle result.
Darker and darker grew the storm
clouds, because of the demands by the
unconscious wife in her selfishness,
until was it wonder the demon at bis
elbow tempted him on and on, holding
before his hungry eyes the glass to
forgetfulness—-that at last his strength
gave way, and he drained it to the
dregs.
“ Come home at once.’*
This was the telegram Queem"
Mitchell received ten months after she
had sailed. It was signed by her aunt
and she dared not disobey it. Twenty
days after she had read it, she stood on
the New York pier.
Where was her husband ? Could
this be ho—this man with trembling
step and haggard face ? She almost
started as he called her name.
‘I have bad news for you, darling,
he said. Our beautiful home is gone,
\N e will have to begin life together,
Queenie. Can you bear it ?
\\ hat did he mean ? Was tins to be
hei home looking round on the plain*
ly but comfortably-furnished rooms to
which he brought her, aud thinking
how oddly would look the Paris dress
es with which her trunks were so rich
ly lined on the worn carpels.
But worse was at hand Only a
week, and one night Vance came ! i0 rae
with reeling step and eyes wide’ A told
their own tale Ihe old ene ra y k a( j
regained his foothold in \hose past
months of suffertug, aud w not easily
shaken off.
Patience and long p offering must do
their wifely work, but Queenie h^d
forgotten ihi*. H ^j. e y es flashed the
scorn they felt, r t8 s h e silently repvilsed
his offered cr presses and swept indig¬
nantly from the room.
Alas ! d ay followed cfoy \pitil a^he
grew to ] 0G k j Qr hideous semb¬
lance c A her husband, but no words of
entreaty passed her lips. She received
always in oold x inqpeyious dis
' Jain.
But one night he determined to ask
her for her help once more to overcome
this thing--to tefi her how he had
been driven to it by loneliness aud bis
despair.
He entered hia rooms. They were
empty, A cold ehift struok his heart.
A note was lying on the table. With
trembling fingers he unloosed the seal
and read :
have gone home, Yance, to my
father's house, where I have always a
welcome. You have driven me to this
atop. I hare taken my children, that
they may not know their father's
shame. God pity and forgive you !*
For three days, the man knew noth¬
ing, as he drowned memory in the enp.
Then he Awakened to consciousness
and sudden loathing of that whioh he
had craved.
'Qed help me to be strong l> This
was his prayer as he worked day and
night, striving to redeem his fortunes
‘When I can give her all that she hus
lost, I will ask her to forgive me and
come back to me/
Thus ne calmly seasoned, laying all
blame, in bis humility, at his own
door.
His wife, riding in her father’s car¬
riage, onoe rolled by him on the street.
Entering a store he called for branily,
but went out, leaving it untouched
His strength had conquered. Little
t>y little hope gleamed in the dark
ness.
If it were not for this terrible cough
he had contracted sleeping in the of¬
fice, he thought, he might be almost
himself Again ; f >r, when he had told
Qneenic al! # slu surely would forgive
him.
Poor fellow ! One day, trying to
rise he found himself too weak to rise,
he found himself too weak to dress'
and parched and feverish, tossed on his
lonely bed for weeks, while the doctors
shook their heads.
‘Will you not tell Queenie I am ill V
he said, one day.
So they sent for her. The old, hard
look of Scorn was in her eyes as she
entered the room, but as they rested
on his face it vanished, and unuttera
ble pity took its place, as a voice with¬
in her said, ‘This is my work 1 ' and
with a sad cry she fell on her knees by
his side.
‘My darling 1' he whispered, ‘forgive
me ! Only tell me you forgive me.—
I was trying to do better. You can
never dream how lonely it was without
you'
'Oh, Vance!' she sobbed, 'I forgive
you everything. Only live for my
sake !
‘My boys,* he said. ‘I want them/
and when they had come ho silently
gathered them in his arms. 'Comfort
your mother 1 ' he murmured.
Then, with one last, lingering glance
of adoration at the beautiful woman
beside him, the weary soul was at
rest.
‘Vance ! Vance !' she piteously wail¬
ed : ‘open your lips just once to tell
me I am forgiven —1 who left you in
my selfishness—I who cared nothing,
thought nothing, of your loneliness
and suffering My darling ! And you
asked me to forgive you. Oh, come
back ! Just once say that I, your wife,
am forgiven.
But merciless, and in one
woman's heart rc«ts ever the torture
of “ihe might have beer/’—the knowl¬
edge that he who asked at her hands
to t c forgiven stood, truly in the par
doner's place,
------- ■ ■ —---—
A Drunken Gobbler.
A Glenbnrn farmer, says a Bangor,
Me., paper, came into the city recently,
and among other things purchased some
vice and a pint of whisky* Fearing
that the bottle might get broken on
the way Lome, he placed it in the box
containing the rice* When he reached
home and took the box from the pung
he ftound that the stopple had got out
of the bottle, and the rice and whisky
were thoroughly mixed. He dumped
the rice behind the ham, a,nd in a short
time a huge turkey cam*! along and,
as he was not as particular as the lar
mer, gobbled up the medicated rice,
Shortly after tbifethe farmer was great
ly surprised to find the turkey lying
aut^behind the barn 'dead as a door
nail/ and rowing vengeance cm the
man who sold him whisky rank enough
to kill a turkey, he cat ted the bird in¬
to the house. The farmer was soon
after*aid seen carrying the naked
bird—as every feather was gone with
th§ exception of -wings and tail—out
behind the stable where be left it
the snow. The next morning when
he entered the stable, it being hardly
light, he detected what he thought
was the ghost of the intemperate tur¬
key, and could almost feel his hair rise;
but he made up bis mind to investgate
the matter and boldly advanced. Im¬
agine h’s surprise, on getting nearer,
to discover the bird shivering on the
roost and looking at him with re
proacfiful eyes for having stolen his
clothes while hopelessly drunk. At
last accounts the turkey was doing as
"*ell as could he expected during zero
weather.
A Cure for Love,
Take one gram of Sense, half grain
of Prudence, an ounce of Patience, a
pound of Resolution, a handful of Dis¬
like; mix them together and fold them
up in your brain lor 24 hours,and then
•train them clean of the dregs of Mel¬
aucholy, and set them on a slow fire
af Hatred and sweeten them with For
getfulness, then put them in the battle
of your heart, stopping them with the
cork of Sound Understanding^ and let
stand H days iu toe wa era of Cold
Affection.
This remedy, when rightly made
and properly applied, will cure.
Iugredients may be found by going
up the Hill of Self-Denial, in the House
of Understanding, on Constant Street,
in the Town of Love.
Facts for the Curious.
The greyhound runs by eyesight on
ly; this we observe as a fact. The
carffer-pigeon flies his two hundred
and fifty miles by eyesight—namely,
from point to point of objects which
he has marked; but this is only our
conjecture. The fierce dragon fly,
with twelve thousand lenses in his
cyeSj darts from angle to angle with
the rapidity of a flashing sword, and
us rapidly darts back, not turning in
the air, but with a clash, reversing the
action ot his wings, and instantaneous¬
ly calculating the distance of objects,
or he would dash himself to pieces*
But in what conformation of the eye
does this consist? No one cau answer.
A cloud of ten thousand gnats dance
tip and down in the sun, the minutest
interval between them, yet no one
knocks another headlong upon the
grass or breaks a leg or wing, long
and delicate as they are. Suddenly
amid your admiration of this match¬
less dance, a peuliarly high-shouldered
gnat, with long, pendant nose, darts
out of the rising and falling cloud, and
settling on your cheek, inserts a poi¬
sonous sting. What possesses the lit¬
tle wretch to do this? Did he smell
your blood in the mazy dance? No
one knows. A carriage comes sud¬
denly upon a flock of geese on a nar¬
row road, and drives straight through
the middle of them. A goose was
never yet fairly run over, nor a duck.
They are under the very wheels and
hoofs, and yet somehow they contrive
to flap and waddle safely off. Habit¬
ually stupid, heavy and indolent, they
are nevertheless equal to the emergen¬
cy. Why does the lonely woodpeck¬
er, when he descends his tree and goes
to drink, stops several times on his
way, listen and look around before he
takes his draught? No one knows.
How is it that the species ol ant which
is taken in battle by other ants to be
made slaves, should be black or negro
ants? No one knows.
The power of judging of actual dan¬
ger, and the free and easy boldness
which result from it, are by no means
uncommon. Many birds seem to have
a most correct notion of a gun's range,
and while scrupulously careful to keep
beyoud it, confine their oaution to this
though the most obvious resource
would be to fly right away out of sight
and hearing, which they do not choose
to do. And they sometimes appear to
make even an ostentatious use of their
flower* fairly putting their wits and
cleverness in antagonism to that of
man tor the benefit of their fellows.
We lately vend an account, by a natu¬
ralist in Brazil, of an expedition he
made to one of the islands of the Am.
azon to shoot spoonbills, ibeses apd
other of the grallatorial birds which
were most abundant there. His de¬
sign was completely baffled, however,
by a wretched little sandpiper that
preceded him, continually uttering his
tell tale cry, which at onoe aroused all
the birds within hearing. Through¬
out the day, dil this individual bird
continue his self-imposed duty of sen*
tinel to others, effectually preventing
the approach of the fowler to the game,
and yet managing to keep out of the
range of his gun.
For Husbands.
Do i‘t think when yo,u have won a
wife that you have won a slave.
Don't think that your wife has less
feeling than your sweetheart. Her
relation to you is changed, not her na¬
ture.
Dont think that you can dispense
with all the littlecivililiesof life toward
her on marrying. She appreciates
those things quite as much as other
women.
Dont be gruff and rude at home.—
Had you been that sort of a fellow be¬
fore marriage, ihe probabilities are
th^t you would he sewing on your own
buttons yet.
Dont make yonr wife feel that she
is an incumbrance on you by giving her
grudgingly. What she needs give as
cheerlully as if it were a pleasure so
to do. She will feel better and so will
you.
Dont meddle in the affair* of the
house in her charge. You have no
m°re right to be poking your nose in'
to the kitchen than she has to walk in
to your pEoe of business and give di¬
sections to your employees,
Dont find fault with her extrava
gance in ribbons, &c., until you have
shut down on cigars, tobacco, whis¬
key, &c.
Vassar college girls, are fond of vo¬
cal music, ^u/n, oh, guxut, with top/
« their fayoritq chewiuA
THE BIBLE.
The Authors Who Composed It.
Moses wrote Genesis, Exodus, Lev
iticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy.
Joshua, Piiinehas or Eleazar wrote
the book of Joshua, but it is not cer¬
tain which of them.
Samuel is the penman of the books
of Judges and Ruth. He also wrote
the first acts of David, and probably
Nathan and Gad wrote his last acts;
and the whole was formed into two
books,which were named after Samuel^
as the most eminent person, called the
first and second books ot Samuel.
Jeremiah most probably compiled
the two books of Kings.
Ezra compiled the two books of the
Chronicles. He is also author of the
book bearing his name.
Nehemiah wrote Nehemiah.
The author of the book of Esther is
unknown.
Elihu was n.ost probably the pen
men of the book of Job. Moses may
have written the first two chapters and
the last. Some think Job wrote it
himself.
David wrote most of the book of
Psalms. Asaph penned a few of them.
Solomon wrote Proverbs, Ecclesias
tea and the Songs of Solomon.
Isaiah is the author of tire prophecy
oflsaiah.
Jeremiah wrote the book bearing his
name, and the Lamentations of Jere¬
miah.
Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Joel, Amos,
Obadiah, probably Jonah, Mioah, Na¬
hum, liabakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai,
Zechariah, wrote the books of prophet
cies bearing their respective names.
Mathew, Mark, Luke and John wrote
the gospels named after them.
Luke wrote the Acts of the Apostles.
Paul is the author of the Epistles to
the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians,
Ephesians, Phiiippians, Oolossians,
Thessalonians, Timothy, Titus, Phile¬
mon and Hebrews.
James, the son of Alpheus, who was
cousin german to Christ, and one of
the Apostles, wrote the Epistles of
Janies.
Peter Wrote the epistle bearing his
name.
The Apostle John wrote the three
Epistles of John.
Jude, the Apostle, the brother of
James, called also Lebbeus, whose
surname wasThaddeus, a near relative
to our Lord, wrote the Epistle of Jude*
St, John, the Divine, wrote the Rev¬
elation.
Self-I ni pro ve men t.
A wAnt of thoroughness in whatev¬
er study is undertaken is, perhaps, one
great cause or tfost failures. A prac¬
tical writer gives tti“ following direc¬
tions: Never leave wha?- J’ ou under¬
take to learn, until you can r/ach your
arms around it and clench your iVands
on the other side. It is not the arnoun'
of reading yon run over that makes
you learned; it is ibe araonnt you con¬
solidate with your previonioly acquired
kno wledge. Dr. Abcrnetliy
ed that there was a point of
in the mind beyond which it is not ca
pable of taking more, and that what¬
ever was pressed upon it afterward
crowded out something else.
Every teaoher should endeavor to
perfect h;mself m the science of the
!business he has chosen. Without this
he must always content himselfin the
lower walks of his eatling. The cost
of things he can spare will buy all the
books he lequires, and his own dili¬
gence may be to supply the rest. But
steady labor is necessary: without it
the best and greatest libraries in the
world cannot manufacture him into a
scholar. If once going over a point
will not master it, he must tackle it
again. Better give a week'* study to
a page than lo conclude you cannot
comprehend it.
But though it is wise to give your
main strength to your own specialty,
you should not confine yourself to such
studies exclusively. The perfection
of your powers should be your aspira¬
tion. Those who can only think and
talk on one subject may be efficient
in their line; but they are not agree¬
able members of society in any of its
departments. Neither have they made
the most of themselves. They become
one-sided aud narrow io their views,
and are reduced to a humiliating de¬
pendence on one branch of industry.
It costs nothing to carry knowledge;
and in times like these, to be aide
put his hand to more than one branch
of industry often serves a man a good
turn.
-*****
Of course the horse marines are
mounted on fl iet horses.
NO. II.
r & IV r ^nr^HUMOR f
$
:4 v> -
The Indian question—How?
Ancient Greece—Old butter.
Cats always travel in pur-cession
In tke midst ot life we are in debt.
A hr 11 beau*— The bust of SlmKspeare.
Liberty is tire prize of eternal vigi¬
lance.
The birthplace of Burns—the Kero¬
sene lamp.
A tramp's paradise—Tint city ol l
brotherly k»f.
-------
Men who stand around waiting for ’
a drink show a lack of cents.
Tire wages of si man who works in a
distillery are Excelsior—still hire.
The man tbot never smiled again
did not take his bine ribbon in vuin
There is no bank, not even a snow
bank, that can stand a run all the year
round.
The pancake is like the orb of day,
because it rises in the yeast and sets
in the vest.
There are three good aids to the
devil in this life—poverty, politics and
the toothache-.
A yonng lady rebukingly asks ns:
Which is worse, to taco tight or lo get
tight? We give it np—wc never laced.
Wbo was ilie first girl mentioned in
the Bible? Jennie Sis. And who was
the fattest man? Paunch ns Pilate.
All the signers of the Declaration of
Independence signed their names with
a quill pen except one—he signed his
Witherspoon.
Hays an exchange: ‘Even small boys
carry arms in this town/ Awful, ain't
it*' Even the little flowers carry pis^
tils in this wicked city.
He said but little, yet as he
upon the mutilated edge of ’ gvzed
he mentatly vowed blest
razor ro •WBP'again
to mairy a woman with co raw;
Josh Billings Bays: II uud^rtako
to hire a man to be bo OBHC,.y u Will hav
t» mse l,is wages ev eiy mwn ; d
watch bun dicdphu a „
, tiam
Thompson say a jroui naajr talk about
yom- water-cure .uovemcut-curcs
and your blue- .gl** CIm , aj the| u
. o
nothing like the sinecure, alter all.
The five, stages of brandy aud water
First—Brandy :md water. Second—
Branny and warwer. Third—Bran
warr. Fourth—Brraorr, Filth_Cul
hpse.
The wifi of the mnjouity should al¬
ways rule, lint there ate occasions
when i* is pretty hard to get near
eriou gb to* a dog, fight to tell who is.
3
If you see a bank note on the side¬
walk or crossing be sure you pause,
stoop and pick it up. In not doing so,
you might be guilty of passing a coun¬
terfeit bill.
‘Mother/ said a little square-built
urchin about five years old, ‘why don't
the teacher make me monitor some¬
times? I can lick every boy in my
class but one.'
Tongue cannot tell) nor words ex¬
press the astonishment of the crippled
soldier, who awoke to find his wife us
ing his wooden leg to pound the beef¬
steak for breakfast.
—---
Oils and pomades are no longer
used on the hair. Tais is sensible, be¬
cause hereafter a young man can help
a young lady say nothing in particular
on Sunday evening without having bis
vest soiled.
A contemporary heads his coiumo ot
i otcs ‘Nuts and Raisins/ probably be
cause he had to try so hard to crack
some of them, and then did not sue-.
ceed in raisin' a laugh. We hope pe¬
can do better next time. Peanut dis¬
mayed, but try again.
A Washington correspo*uie*t, whose*
coat ' of * arrns a cherry tree and a lit-,
lie ^tchet, writes as that a woman in
that city 18 80 P 1 ^ und elevates her
uose to suc ^ au when passing
a treasury girl, that she frequently hin.
the skin scraped off that organ by
coming in contact with the telegraph
wire..