Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME VII.
/i&MJU
\ .' -rimtzcr -rrrtxrt:
kittle criss*s letter to
JESUS.
A post stood there with puzzled brew,
And in h k hmd turned o'er and o’er
A letter, with address so strange
As be had never seen before.
The writing cr imped, the letters small.
And by a boj’s rough hand engraven.
The words lan thus: “To Jesus Uniat."
And underneath inscribed, "Iu Heaven.”
The postman paused; full well he knew
No m«il on eanh this note could take.
And y«' 'twas writ in childish faith.
And posted lor the dear Lord's sake
With careful hand he broke the seal,
And rev’reutlv the letter read;
"f was short, and very simple too,
For this was all the writer said:
"My Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
I've lately lost my father dt-ar.
Mother is very, verv poor,
And life to her is sad and drear,
Yet Thou hast pioroised in Thy Word
That none can ask in vain
For what they need of earthly store,
If onlj asked in Jesus' name.
• So I am writing in fiis name,
To ask that Thou wilt kindly seud
Some money down; what Thou const spare
And what is right for Us t«i spend,
1 want so much to go to school,
While father lived I always werrt,
But he had little. Lord, to leave,
And what he left is almost spent.
“I do not know how long ’twill be
Ere this can reach the golden gate;
But I will try and patient be,
Aid for tho answer gladly wait."
Tim tidings reached that far off land.
Although the letter did not go,
And straight the King an angel sent
To help the little boy below
Oft to his mother he would sr.y,
“Ikoftw the Lord would umwei make
VfWn he read uiy letter through
Which I hud sent for Jesus’ sake.”
Ah? happy boy, could you but teach
Uy heart to trust my Father’s love,
Aud L, yieve where aught’s denied
Til o®iy my faith to prove.
( Chriiftian at Work.
MISCELLANY.
How Mrs. dates Obtained
Her Allowance.
Titer* srew*. jxopie enough to envy
IL lucen' H •» light on when she woo raai
r<ed to Kadcliffi- Gates
was only a<li-tnet adkool teacte
c ‘ r , H mi much per mouth, without home
<> r jMrent*. He wasawe dthy banker
who fi'-etned to have nothing else on
citrih io do hut indulge h's whists mud.
to their utmost bent, and the
w,, rli in genera 1 expressed its diction
that Milly Haughton had done uue an
“only well fh r herself.
Hut Milly did not look happy npon
hat golden July morning, with the
^un*hiiie stream ng through the oriel
window "fthe gi eat breakfast room at
hates'place, •Urims-in ana scattering little drops
at»1 gold, and glowing pur#.
* « on the mossy ground of the stoue
•I’ohired carpi- 1 She was dressed in a
.
’■a* vshite wrapper, looped and but.
l0ft0 ^ blue, and a single pearl ar-
1 w «n»held the shining masses ot her
w - a, d'urn hair. Her eyes were
deea, liqmd hazel tier complexion as
f
1 an ’^ radiant the dimpled side of
as
ai ‘ ' a 'ly peach; and the little, kid
* ll PPert;d foot that patted the velvet
‘Etonian beneath was as p?*rfoet and
^etjug ^ it. m a sculptor coud have wish
r - bates, from his side of the dam.
J| -haped table eyed her with the
f
’|Maee»t s 14s g;»$e of proprietorship.
was wife, He (iked her to
;^ k veil just as U« wanted his horses
Doperly groomed, and hjg conservato
lL * la ( «^or; aad troabtrd him
v ^y little about tiie shadow of
^' r •‘row,
, j’nt in earnest Radcliffe !' she *..id,
I supposed !' said the liusl>atid,
Hu- his paper—a si jn that
( /*" I wa| tborughly ex
? supposed. But it isn't
whil e to allow yourself to get
C,N ' W hen I say thing, Mrs.
q a
r'"®’ 1 .generally mean it. And I
it ’ ‘ f you neod «>o»ey for any
« n n
0r necessary purpose I shall
>c ^ ^
^you.‘ and happy to aceom
aud i r " :ent m bit d hor full, red lower lip,
' n ' '^Patiently the Uble
‘oeoJ:' With I eS ?^ 8fi,, or.
^ r8 ‘And am I
ni ^ ° rinj J 011 lor fire
c «nt l^Ili.I.ptBlo i - every
'*«•. Mrs. wantr
.. Srti. ""MtarintUti'^’/ 0 afoo . f . " P .
@m + Emtmm @Wfi.
‘Ralcliffe/ «h<* coix*d, suddenly
changing her t<»ne, ‘do give me -an
allowance ; I «<o tint care* how little I
Don't subject m -tn the bn i»tli t on ot
pleading for h little mon y half a doz¬
en times a day. You are rich/
‘Exactly, my dear/ nodded this
B n- diet, ‘that is the way 1 made my
format*, »y lo ki g persona lv alter ev
ery p any, and I intend to keep it
up.‘
‘But think how I was mortified yes
tcrdiv wh»*n Ms a. Armour cone to
a** m<* if I would subscribe 50 cents
toward buying a ham! carri ge f -r our
wa.>herwoman's lao.e child—only 50
cents and I had to say. ‘Must nsk
rny husband to give me the money
w hen In* returns lro»n the city/ lor I
had not even 50 cents < >1 my own '
‘All very right—all very proper/
sai 1 Mr. Gates, playing with the huge
rope of gold that hung across his chest
in guise of a watch-chain.
‘Other ladies are not kept penniless/
‘That rests entirely !»etwe< n them
and their husbands, Mrs. Gat s *
‘I will not endure it/ cried Milly,
with cheeks dy* d scarlet, and iudig.
nan'ly glittering eyes.
Mr Gates leaned in his chair wth
provoking complacency
‘I will have mom y/ said Milly defi¬
antly.
‘U"W are you goi »g to get it, ny
dear?' retorted her spouse, wiih an
aggravating guide pi lying around the
corners if his mouth. ‘You have noth¬
ing of your own—ansolutely nothing.
The money is all mine, and I intend to
ke p it.
Milly sat down again, and twisted
her h iiidKerchief round and round.—
S'io was not p" pared with an imme
di ite answer.
‘And now, Mrs. Gates/ said the
banker, after a tew moments of over¬
whelming silence, ‘if you'll be good
enough to *titch that button on my
glove, I‘ll go downtown. I have al¬
ready wasted too much tune.
So the verbal passage-at-arms end¬
ed, and Milly frit that, so far, she was
worsted.
She watch'*d Mr Gates drive off in
an elegant open barouche drawn by
two long tailed chestnut colored horses
all agdtter With plated harneg.-, aud
turned a v «y almost w.shing that she
was Mi’lict-nt Hangiit mi once again
Itehibo her' desk in the little red school
house.
Sh»* looked around At the inlaid fur¬
niture, Anabusson cafpeti an ^ satin
window drapers•*, aud though’ w foh a
passion *t - pang, how little did ail this
avail her !
‘It is «o provoking of Radcliffr ! I
have h.d* a mind to go out to service,
or m >k og, or something --for I
must haye money of my own, and I
will/
J*st the* a servant knocked at the
door with a basket and a note.
‘An old lady in a shaker bonnet and
a one-l»«i«e wagon Jolt it/ said the girl
with a scarcely disguised titter. ‘Site
would n«<t eome in, although I invited
her.
Mrs. Gat‘8 opened the note. It ran
ill a stiflf. old-fashioned caligraphy, as
if the pen were an unw-mted instru¬
ment in the writer's hand •
‘•Dkab Milly —The strawberries in
the south ineddor lot are just ripe,
wk -re you used to pick 'em when "<»u
were a little gal ; so Penelope picked
a |ot, and we made nold to send tm m
to you tor tlic sake of old time*, as
aunt Armiata is going to the city to
ra- -rr->w. Wc hope you will like tltem
Affectionatt-ly Makia your Ann friend, Peabody."
Tlws tears sp*rld< d in the bride's
eyes. For an instant it seemed to her
a« if she was a merry child again, pick¬
ing strawberries in the golden ram of
a July suoshiue, with the scent of wild
ro«'« in the air, and the gurgle ot the
little trout stream close V»y. Ad she
lif ed the basket of crimson, luscious
fruit, and inhaled the delici-»us per
a sudden idea darted into her
head.
•N .w I will have money of my own!'
she cried out—'money that 1 will
earn myself, and thus be iudepeud
ent/
Half an hour afterward Mrs. Gates
came do wu stairs, to the infinite amaze
ment of Rachel, the chamber-maid,
and Louisa, the parlor-maid, in a
brown giugliam dr«*ss, a wlme pique
sun-bonnet and a basket on her arm.
‘Won't y«»u l» ave l h e cariiag*,
a‘am ?’ asked the latter, as Mrs.
m bus
Gates beckoned to a passing banker
‘No, I will not,’replied the s
lady. .
within the city . m ® soon
And work *
lighted end began .□
61 h
tb “'StrawborrieB „
! Who’ll bay my
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, APRIL 3, 1879.
<
wil l strawberries ?' rang’-out"her
shrill voice, sh«* walked ah >ng,*
balancing the weight nn her arm,
enj<iyii g the impromptu
as oidy a spirited voungwomancan.
Mrs. Prowler bought t-mr
preserving, at 25 cents a quart.
‘ Wild strawberries has such a
said the o*d lady, reflectively,
'taint often you gel’em here in the
I s’pose you don't come regular
woman ?’
‘No, I don’t ma'am/
‘Because you might get some very
good customers/ remarked Mrs.
lor.
Miss Seoidtha Rail, who keeps
» i rs. took two quirts ; Mrs.
C «rhary purchased a quart, and th»*n
Milly jumped on the cars and rode
idly down town.
‘I have got a dollar and
cents of my own now at all
said she to herself.
‘Strawberries ! Nice ripe wild
berries !'
Her sweet voice resounded through
tho halls of the groat marble building
on whose first floor the great bank was
situated.
It chanced to bo a dull interval of
busi teas just then, and the
looked up with a yawn.
‘I say, Bill Junes/ said he to the
youngest clerk, ‘I have an idea that
few strawberr es would not go badly.
Call in the wotntn.,
Billy, nothing loth, s'ipped off his
stool, with a pen behind each ear, and
stepped out into the hall.
So Milly sold another quart.
As she was giving change for the
cashier s dollar bill, the president
self came in, bustling and bii-k as
ever.
‘Eh ? What ? How ?‘ barked out
Mr. R.idclifle Gates. ‘Strawberries ?
W. Ii, I don't care ii I take a few my¬
self Her--, voting woman, how do you
sell them ?
Milly pushed back her cunning sun
boime', ami executed a sweeping
Com tesy.
‘Twcntv^fivo c nfs a quart, sir, if you
please/ purred she with much humil.
ity.
The president dropped his pjper
Strawberries on the floor.
‘Mrs. Gates!’ he ejaculated.
‘Toe same sir/ said Mdlfceut.
‘May I venture to inquire—'
‘Oh, yes/ said Milly. ‘You may in¬
quire a* much as you please. I needed
a little money, and I am earning
it.’
‘See how much 1 have already Band
she triumphantly displayed her roll
crumpled stamps. ‘The strawberries!
were af,' my own, sent me this morning
by ..Id Mrs. pcabody, ami I am selling
them n »w to get *n income of my
own/
‘You selling strawberries through
the streets?’
Mtlly made a second courtesy.
‘Extreme m cessities justify extreme
memoir- s, Mr. G ates/ she said saucily,
‘learned my own living before I saw
you, ond I can again
Mr. Radcliffe Gates looked uneasily
around at the surprised crowd of
clerks.
‘James/ said Mr. Gates, ‘call me a
(tack. My dear, let me take you on
home.’
‘Not until I liave sold thereat of my
strawberries.saucily retorted the young
wite.
‘I will take them—at any price ! im
patiently exclaimed the banker.
*Cash down.?*
‘Yes, anything—everything—only
come out of this crowd.
So Mr. and Mrs. Gates went home;
and that evening the banker agreed
to so much per week, to be paid down
every Monday at the breakfast ta
ble.
‘But we will have uo more sell'ng
strawberries/ said Mr. G ttes nervous
i jr*
‘To be sure not/ said Milly. ‘All f
wanted wns a litde money of my own
And Mr. Radcliflc Gates respected
his wife all the more because she had
conquered him in a fair buttle.
- ^ -
Hope is tlie ruddy m >rning ray
joy, recollection is its .go!d«-n tinge ;
but the latter is wont to sink amid the
dews and dusky shades of twilight,
and the bright blue day which the
mer proinisfs breaks indeed, but in
other world and with another sun.
Love may be blind, but we
when they hear the old man
down stairs a w 11 saturated couple
skirmish around a dark room, aud
into a couple of chairs forty feet
a good deal qu.cker . than any
fellow could with Ins eyes wide opep,
and the gae terned on full head.
Table Etiquette.
Bread should be broken, rot cut ;
but if you d m't like bread “cut** it.—
In ‘‘breaking** bread use a curb bit.
Do not fill your raouth tf>o full ;
rather allow some of the food to get
into your mustache.
Split a biscuit with your fingers, in
stead of opening it with a knife, like
an oyster. Il the biscuit be hard, a
beetle and wedge are admissible into
the best society.
Salt should never be put on the ta-.
blecloth, but on the side of your plate.
Ii, however, you want to pickle the
tablecloth in brine, you must put salt
on it of course.
Do not rattle your knife and fork.
A knife and spoon will be found more
musical.
Eat your soup from the side of your
spoon, either inside or out.
Do not t ike g '.me into your fingers.
This, however, does not apply to a
game of cards.
Do not rest your arms on the table¬
cloth. Stack your arms in a corner
of the room before beginning your din¬
ner.
When asked what part of the fowl
you prefer, answer promptly. If you
want the whole of ii; don't hesitate to
say so.
Do p.ot drink with the spoon in your
cup ; put it in your pocket. Forget¬
ting it you will be so much ahead. A
close regard to this rule has enabled
Ben Butler to accumulate a compe¬
tency.
Never leave the table until all are
through, without sufficient cause. The
sudden entrance of a policeman with a
warraut for your arrest is generally
considered sufficient excuse in polite
circles.
Never help yourself to articles of
food with your knife or fork. Use a
harpoon «>r >asso.
When you have finished your meal,
lay your knife and fork on your plate,
side by side, with the handles toward
the right, a little south by south-west,
bearing northerly when the wind is
off the sideboard quart* r.
A Eittle Boy’s Sermon.
‘Eddie/ said Harry, ‘I’ll be a min¬
ister, and preich you a sermon il
‘Well,’ said Eddie, ‘and I’ll be the
peoples.
Harrv began,—
'My text is a short and easy one,—
‘Be kind/ There are some little tex»s
in the Bible on purpose for little chib
dren, and this is one of them. These
are the heads of my sermon :
‘First : Be kind to papa, and don’t
make a noise when he has a headaehe.
I don't believe yon know what a head
ache is; but I do. I had one once, and
I didn't w r ant to hear any one speak a
word.
‘S'-ed'M : Be kind to mama, and
dor/t make he!' tell yon to do a thing
more th^n once. ,It is very tiresome
to say, ‘It is time for you to g » to bed,
hali a dozen times over.
Third : ‘Be kind to baby—'
‘You have left out, ‘Be kind to Har¬
ry/ interrupted Eddie.
‘Yea/ said Harry, ‘I didn't mean
to mention nay own name in the ser¬
mon. I was Having be kind to little
Minnie, and let her have your red
soldier to play with when she wants
it.
Fourth : ‘Be kind to Jane and don't
scream and kick when she washes and
dresses yon.
Here Eddie looked a tittle ashamed
and said, But she pulled my hair with
the comb. S*
‘People mustn't talk in meeting,said
Harry.
Fit’h : ‘Be kind to Kitty. Do what
will make her purr, and dontdo what
will make her cry
‘Isn't the sermon most done ? asked
Eddie; ‘I want to sing ‘ And without
waiting for Harry to finish his dis¬
course or give out a hymn, he began
to sing, and so Harry bad to ttop.—
Children ‘s Record
The loss of a hat is always felt ; if
you dont like sugar you may lump it ;
a glazier is a panes-takiug man ; can¬
dles are burned because wicked things
always cmne to light ; a lady who
takes you home from a party is kirid
in her carriage, you say, *‘2Vune^
riddendum “ when you «tep into It j
ii it happens to be a chariot, she *s a
charitable person ; bird's nest and
king-killing are synonymous^ beoanse
j they are high trees «nv; the greatest
fibber is the man most to. relie on ; a
dean expecting a bishopric looks for
lawn ; a suicide ktfh pigs, and not
himself ; a butcher Jn a gross m^n a but
ft fig seller is a gvoqcr
Mayflower and Cunarder.
Speaking of relics, just before we
reached P<>rtsmoth, a man entered in
to c**nver-atiou with me.
lie said :
‘You are from the West ?*
I murmurt-d something about the
vast illimitable, etc., and the man
said ;
'Yours is a new country, a new coun¬
try ; a u-e-w country.
‘Yes, I told him it was new, but it
was the only one we had, and accord¬
ingly we wore it Sundays and week
days alike, worked and went to par¬
ties in it, and it would soon look a
thousand years old.
‘We/ the man said, ‘come down from
the veneraole mists of antiquity. It
is a glorious thought.
Yes/ I said, * but it was‘t pleasant.
I was in Boston four days, and it east
winded and it rained three of them.—
It was misty enough, but spoiled the
prospect.
‘My ancestors,’ he said, ‘came over
in the Mayflower. But yours?*—and
he looked at me with a rising inflec¬
tion.
I tried to slay him with a look of
silen' scorn, but she missed fire.
Tour ancestors, I take it/ said the
man, ‘did uot come over in the May¬
flower.
And then I turned upon him.
‘Sir/ ‘I remarked, ‘this Mayflower,
I take it, was a sailing ship V
Sue was/ he said, vainly endeavor¬
ing to stifle his emotion, ‘she was a
sailing si tip.
‘Then/ I said haught ly, ‘most as¬
suredly my ancestors did not come over
in the Mayflower. It has never been
the misfortune of my family to be com¬
pelled to take passage on any ship of
the merchant marine. My ancestors
came over in a Cunard steamer, first
cabin, no steerage passengers carriedi
only ten days from Liverpool, and the
m'nutc they landed in New York,they
went strait way to Mrs. Astor’s tavern
aud took front rooms on the parlor
floor.
I thought I had crushed that man,
but I may be blessed ii lie didn't look
as though he pitied me.— Hawkeye
Burdette .
Such is Life.
Ah, yrs, fond youth! It may b<’
very nice to court a girl in the far
northern countries where the nights
are six months long ; but just think of
the vast amount of peanuts and gum
drops the young man, when going to
see his girl, must lug along with him to
kill time, and induce her to believe that
hi< affection for her is as warm as ev
er. And then the sad leaving-taking a
few Weeks before sunrise ! H * whis¬
pers ‘Good-night, love/ and she softly
murmurs, ‘Gpod-night, dear, Whe„
shall I see you again/ ‘To-morrow
night/ he replies, as he kisses h<*r up¬
turned face. ‘Tom arow night,’ she
repeated with voice full of emotion.—
Six long, weary months ! Oau't you
call around <T few days before break¬
fast, Charles ? Finally Char I s tears
himself away, with a promise to write
iier one hundred and sixty letters be¬
fore the next day draws to a close.
Tlie Wife as Barkeeper.
Barkeepers in this city pay on an av¬
erage |2 per gallon For whisky. One
gallon contains an average of sixty five
drinks, and at 10 cents a drink, the
poor man pays $6.50 per gallon for
his whisky. In other word-, he pays
$2 for the whisky ami $4.50 to a man
for handing it over t’»e bar. Mike your
wife your barkeeper. Lend her $2 to
buy a gallon of whisky for a begin¬
ning, and every time you want a dri ik
go to her and pay 10 cents for it. By
the ti i»e you have drunk a gallon she
will have $6.50, or eno gh money to
refund the $2 borrowed of you to pay
for another gallon of liquor, arq
a balance of $2.50. She w;Vj bo able
to conduct future oper^jihor
own capital, and w’.iooyan broorrv i an
inebriate, unable to &uppoj| yourself
shunned aud^ despised by all respect¬
able persons, your wife will have
enough ta keep yau until you
got tendv to fill a drunkard 4 ** grave.—
Jjgctuire ofC. T. Ca mpbell atMam eilh^Kyj
There is something very peculiar
about swe traeats. In a family of staid
ordeily people, where the merest shad¬
ow of dysp, 1 psia hangs over the house¬
hold, they wiilj k»*ep, for weeks: but
introduce ipt*o that circle a couple- t»f
boys who, never heard of indigestion,
and there ij-n‘t a jar of nreseijxes*
even £4 pot, of, pickles, that can escape
them
The Jewish Wedding Ceremony,
lu serme of its features the Jewish
wedding ceremony is a very beautiful
one. From a description of a fashion
able wedding of this kiudiri NewYofk,
on Wednesday, We take the following
paragraph: There Was a moment of
sitence, and then the band again
poured forth its mu-ic, and the bride,
a pretty brunette of some 19 sumuievs^
entered the ball, leaning upon the arm
of her mother and her aunt, the latter
takinor the place of the gr<»ora‘s moth¬
er, who is dead, the Jewish custom
beina: that the prospective mother-in
law shall lead the bride to the alter.
The bride was elegantly attired in
white satin, her features being con¬
cealed beneath a short lace veil, fas¬
tened to her head-dress with a wreath
of flowers. She also wore a necklace
and bracelet of entwined flowers and
pearls, and carried in her hand a beau¬
tiful bouquet. She was led to a seat
in the middle chair, her mother and
aunt sitting or either side of tier. As
the music ceased Ilabbi Wise stepped
forward, and lifting his hands above
the bride's bowed head, pronounced in
German the marriage olessing of Re¬
becca. Another moment of silence
ensued, ami the groom, a young man
about twenty-seven yi’ars of age, en¬
tered with his father and prospective
father-in-law. He was attired in fulj
dress, wore a nosegay in the lappel of
his coat, and anew and shining beaver
on his head. He walked slowly to
the bride, and as she arose she took
bis right arm, and then both walked
to the altar, where after a chant by
the reader, Rabbi Wise took up one
of the silver goblets of wine, known as
tlie ‘Cup of Joys/ and stepping to the
br de, gently lifted her veil and allow¬
ed her t» sip a draught of the liquid,
and then held the cup to the bps of
the groom, who also partook of it.—
After another chant by the reader, the
rabbi again addressed the couple, say.,
ing that as they had drunk together
of the cup of jovs, so tlmy mufit drink
from the cup of sorrows, and taking
the second goblet, he raised it to the
gioom‘s lips, and after the latter hau
again lifted the bride's veil, and
she in turn drank Irom the goblet.—
Tears dimmed the eyes of the bride
and groom, and of nearly all the assem¬
blage, as the rabbi closed his remarks
and lifted the second goblet to the lips
of the husband and wife.
Weak Lungs.
Tlie lungs of the human body are
more subject to disease then any other
vital organ. Coming directly in con¬
every moment with the poisons
in the atmosphere, it is not at
wonderful that the delicate tissues
more often than any other or¬
be the seat of disease. It is a
of gratification that modern
and investigation have proved
the greatest number of lung dis¬
are curable In years past noth
has b*-en more common than to
medical men say: ‘Gh, he has dis¬
of tlie lungs, I can do nothing*'
mortem examinations upon a
scale have developed the fact
pulmonary phthisis is common in
cases where it is classed as some¬
else Numerous cases arc recor¬
where the patient has died ol oth¬
disease, and the lungs have reveal¬
the old cicatrix perfectly healed
the surrounding tissues restored
health.
Instances are known where even
entile lobe of the lung ntts been
and the balance of the organ
to do dou’ole Work, and this
small inconvenience. In a series
examinations made at the hospital
Edinburgh, H was found that the
lungs of at fea&t one-thir4 ‘>f those
whct'lrd aver lai ty years of>ge show¬
ed signs of farmer disease. A series of
experiments at the hoapit d at Paris,of
persons dying over sixty years of age,
developed V"© same facts. T*'at con¬
sumption is hereditary, no medical
mau doubts; that, by judicious treat¬
ment and by obeying wise la yrs tt can
be cur 3d, hardly admits of a question.
People who have lung trouble should
not get into the habit of believing
themselves doomed ia consequence of
it. Such impression ol\en goes far
toward retarding th© work of cure.
Gut-door exercis.^ pure air, whol««iMn<j.
food, dry and warm clothi >g, ample
protection to the chest and to the feet v
and the weak lunged people have l,iv* d,
a»d will often live k to li# allotted
years, of man's l,i fe.
-ft***
Good* spxg for a singing bee —Hum,
hwn^ fhert/H, no plae*e 1 ke comb.
NO. 14.
*IT&IHUM0R?'
Thv cfeukpy is a pretty I4fd,
SkxgeMIe and so wise;'
It has a silky little tail
M’ifh Which fer whack the flies.
Upon its bead two ca?s it b.»rs,
So silky, fowps and soft,
That when ks tail cutf't reach the flics,
Tb® ears cwft whisk them off.
a
- ----- -
A pair of specs —*
Acknowledging the corn—A corn
cession.
A good place to get a husband—By
the ear.
The small boy is never proud of his
tore clothes.
All good wives ought to like Bos¬
ton, because it is such an excellent
hub.
The man who carries his railroad
ticket in his hat-band makes a faro
display.
The old schoolmaster, faithful over
a few things, holds the ruler over
many. *'
If death loves a shining mark, why
isn’t the mortality greater among the
bootblacks?
On leaving a room make your best
salam to persons present, and retire
without salamitur the door.
The man who is waiting for some¬
thing to turn up generally finds it
wheu he steps on a barrel liQop,
■ ^ , i
Perfumed arrows are now used by
the English archery chibs. Arrows
another name would smell as sweet..
Tber© is a paragrupher hi Peters¬
burg whose jokes are so sickly that a
leading physician has ordered a jest
protector for him.
A marriage notice in an exchange
commences ‘Lynch—Pynn/ which is
quite appropriate for a married couple,
as any felloes enn see.
--
Never be discouraged by trifles. A
Eureka rounder will strike nineteen
men in succession for a half-dollar, and
compromise with the twentieth for a
bit drink.
‘The only reason I got my ears
said Johnny, ‘was because
when mother arid a neighbor had bor¬
a hen of her, I said the Lent lion
had arrived/
When electric lights eupercede ker¬
newspapers will b<» filled with
descriptions of enterpris¬
domestics blowing up cook stoves
a streak of lightning.
They were walking by the sad sea
• wheu Theodore picked up a
vegetable, remarking: ‘Tms
wh it the poet calls a sea beet sure/
now meet as strangers,
- — .. —.
.
When little Thomas ntops to toy
berries, jam and jelly cake, no
can caw soothe tlie chastened boy
nostrum ease his stomach ache.
And if the griping pains defy the med*.
femes prescribed to foij, his parents
will do well to try the limpid, liquid
castor oil.
-^ 4» 4*.---
A little girl, whose mother had told
her the melancholy story of Adam and'
Eve, looked down for a mnu' nL very
sadly, an 1 then up again very bright¬
ly, and sa'd* ‘And the^ both went in
t *a la;ge, beautiful room, full of bright,
red apples, and noo-o snake, and ate
a-a U th-y wanted/
There is a oertain pathos, mingled
W>th tlve politeness of the little boy,
who, on being ask< d by his Sund n
school teacher who m ide the.-e ewr
lasting ii ills-by which we are surroun
ifed* replied: ‘I really don’t know, sir
I have only lived in the village about
10 days, aad have not yet made any
acquaint auee/
A gcritlaman who is no longer young
and who nov«4- was handsome, says to
a child in the presence of its .parents:
‘Well, my chilli, wh'atdo you think of
me, eh?* The lit*fA>ne miduee.^o re¬
ply, and the ntsema®, continues: —
‘Well, so. you won't tell me what you
think of me. Why won't yon?' ‘Be^
cause I don't want to get,to licked/