Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME VII,
, > m fiS? m i
I ie
V TT
A WOMAN’S REASON.
nr e. tpj’KiNa.
It was love-sciupelling May,
With the cricket’s shrill bassoon
Piping loud ;
And the moon, a merry maid,
Waltzing down the checkered shade,
With a cloud.
She was standing at the stile.
\nd the moonlight, all the while
£jbe was there,
J.ike the suuj/ine in the moss,
Got all tangled in the floss
.Other hair.
Jn the midnight of her eyes
Glowed the sudden, glad surprise
Of first love ;
While, in waves of red and white,
Hope and fear, with jealous might,
Fiercely strove.
Suddenly, ,jhe air grew still,
As the distant whippoorwill
crept Frightened uf) her ;
And she very ch m,
blushing lille J blowing rose,
For her fear.
Then tjfye piooo waltzed out of sight,
And a voice, us of the night,
Said, * ‘Beware
For the quiet was so deep,
That a butterfly could sleep
the air,
Every dimple was in tune,
‘With a anile about the moon,
“ As ii fled ;
And a Roguish terror played
With her eyelids, as the shade
Overspread.
I ml from out tin jesnmine,
Through the spicy eglantine,
Lhvisted thick,
Just awakened from a dream,
C'aite the hum-hird’s wrathy tjcr^am,
“Do it quick."
Life till then was incomplete.
Heavens ! what delicious, sweet,
Rosy lips ;
All flic lightning of a storm
.Tingjei?, laughing, to'hoy warm
Finger-tips.
Ami a )/une bug buzzing near,
Or else something saicj, “You dear/'
yery low .. >w
;
“Why do you,” chimed in a frog,
Courting some ouc in the bog,
“Loveiueso?”
i'D - l
And I think she thought ’twas I;
For two hands crept into my
Clumsy paws,
And the little mischief said,
Roguishly, “You naughty Fred,
Just because.”
MISCELLANY.
Iced Juleps.
the jFerle^, of the Boston Journal, tells
following story of an incident which
occurred while life corpse of a distin¬
guished citizen of the old liay Spate
was on its last journey homeward quite
'
a mimbt r of 3 ears ago :
4here was an unusually large dele¬
gation of Congressmen as an escort,
together with the usual staff’ officers
and correspondents, it was a warm,
early Spring day, and when trie train
stopped for a few moments at Magno¬
lia station, just b* yond Baltimore/ one
ot the bouse clerks, noted for his bibu¬
lous propensities, was delighted at
finding a negro boy on the platform,
with a bundle of fresh mint, which wqs
’ minediately ^ purch aged.
hen the train started { nunei
of , the . fragrant flavoring . Kerb at once
hega., to concoct wl,.sky ,u|e p? But
/ her.. „ e il3 ' tl, no " re ice was -that "° bl luxury ' k of not old hav- w
'■S been introduced into the .rate,
tanks of the cars. All at once, M_
-■maimed.
" 7° iB the b ®8P*S®
■%; „ , a,,d 7“ fo rW#,d ^ ,Vt '" n S ,0n
///a" , " PS ° C °° ; ” S
He was greeted with a welcoming
Siiout, and soon the ice w r as being rat¬
tled in glasses, from which the Juleps
were approvingly drained, until a
N, uth Carolina representative ns i
-
suddenly struck between the eyes,
claimed :
‘l believe you took (bis ice from the
box under the coffin.’
f here was a dead silence ; no
J'l eps were drank, and at Havre-de
<Jlace , M---quietly left the
Had a pledge never to drink any
‘Husky juleps been then and there
sciitefl, it would have received
signatures.
t
f 0 ^. £5 p ♦
i
ALICE BOND’S CASTLE.
BY If. E. STONE.
^Alice, Alice Bond 1'
‘Yes, aunt Hester.'
/Home in the house, this instant, and
scrub the floor. I never, in all my
saw such a Jajjy, shiftless girl !
Do you hear me.?’
‘Yes, aunt/
‘There you go 1 It's ‘yes, aunt/
from morning'til night; J might call
’til my throat was sore, and that would
be all the answer Pd ever git. Whgit
011 airth air you a-lookiu’ at ?■'
‘I was watching the clouds, aunt
Hester. Dd come, and see this one,
in the form of a castle—'
‘A castle I Good Lord! Just as
if them dumpy lookin’ clouds had any
more shape in them than a feather
bed. Land sakes, how some folks im¬
agination runs away with 'em !,
A fair, young girl, with great, wist¬
ful, brown eyes, turned reluctantly
away ft,9m tjte .beautiful scene she had
been Contemplating.
You're jest like your mother was/
continued the aunt; ‘she never had a
spark of smige You’ll make a smart
wife, won‘t you, for a man ? I won¬
der what Ezra parnard would think,
if he could see you now. I think, if I
was a girl, an’ had sich a likely feller,
I‘d try an* fiave a little git-up aboyt
tile, an‘ not be as stupid as a beetle
with my head ‘way up in the clouds
fch§ hull time. Mrs. Barnard was oyer
here, yisterday, a-askin* about you,
nn’ the way I had to falsify to he*',
made me ‘shamed for it.*
‘You need tell her no untruths on
my account, aunt Hester/ said the
girl, firmly ; ‘I shall never marry lu*r
son/
‘■What {‘
‘I shall never many Ezra Barnard.
I do not love him/
/Wal, I've heerd of fools in my day,
but you*re the biggest one I ever see.
Not marry $zia Barnard ! IM like to
know what you aijt* a-tl»inkiu‘ ^bonf!
A young man with plenty of money,
a good farm, anf all the git Is for miles
around a-dyin‘ .li ter him. Not jjprry
him ! I can tell you one thing, miss,
pou can't live on me much longer ] foj;
I‘m a-gittii/ pretty tired of a lazy
thing like you/
Alice Bond had been left an orphan
when she was so young, that sfie had
no recollection of either father or
plot her. jfjer father had been a sol¬
dier, and had fallen in the last year of
the war ; and the blow’ had broken her
mother.‘s 1 eirt. The child had no
nearer relative than an aunt, who lived
on a sterile hill-farm, ilere far up among
the mountains, Alice had vege
tated from the time she was £wq years
ojd until she was njoeteen. We say
vegetated, for her aunt was wholjy of
the ‘earth, earthy,* and had no aspira¬
tion beyond ‘laying acre to aqro.f
Books were strangers to the house, so
were periodicals. Nothing was con¬
sidered of any va'ue that did not
bring money, and bring it directly.
Amid this hard, dry, material life, poor
jittle Alice grew tip like one shut fast
in a cage ol iron. Sue was naturally
of ^.11 imaginative mind, fond of read¬
ing, and possessing a keen senge ot
the beautiful. Her only happy days
were those when she could escape,
bare-jbrq as she was, out on the hills,
to gather wild flowers and grasses^
and lie there gazing at the
clouds, sqeing castles and cities in their
changing outlines, and dreaming
dre- ait] 8 q? impossible felicity. She
had always been a pretty child, and
ghe * / w np rare iy beautiful. Her
1>1W0 , hcr long dark lash
her ,. osy mollth „ er wealth
rich chestnut hair ; and above all, he.
aud speaki r ng ion!,tenancy the
MiQn yf which vaiied w i.h every
t| , onght and elnotioI1) made
^er the bellG of the neighborhood.
Araong ;d | iiej; numerous suiters E Z ra
Barnard, however, was' the richest ;
but he Was, also, if p .ssible the most
boorish ; and Alice fairly detested
him.
‘Maybe you're expectin',' gaid the
aunt, sarcastically, ‘some kqight, as
they say in storybooks, to come along,
and take you off to that castle you
talking about '
were
‘May 1 trouble you fora glass ol
water, madam V interrupted a voiee
at this moment.
Aunt Hester started. In the kiteli
en d‘*or, stood a young man, clad in a
hunting costun.e, with his gun slung
carelessly over his shoulder. He
have come up the back walk, and, per
had overheard the conversation,
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MAY 22 ,
‘I've had but poor luck,'*he said,
smiling pleasantly at Alice, ‘and am
quite thirsty/
The girl glanced timidly into the
frank, manly face, with its broad,
white forehead, and dark, gray eyes,
‘He is not one of us/ she mentally de
tei mined, as she went for the glass of
water.
‘Thank you/ he said, taking the
brimming glass from her hand. Then,
turning to aunt Hester, he added :
‘You have a fine, old place here.
May I ask if you know of any one in
the vicinity, who would be willing to
take a boarje^’, for a few weeks?’
‘I dunno,‘ replied ^unt Hester, slow¬
ly. ‘I‘ve got a spare room that hain‘t
in use. Perhaps I might. Is it you ?‘
‘Yes. I have ceme up amojng the
hills here for a mouth‘s holiday. I
will pay you well. 1 like the place/
4_nd aunt Hester, always eager to
make money, led the way to a
pleasant, square room, whose windows
looked out upon the hills and surround¬
ing country, for miles aroupd.
The stranger was so pleased with
the view, that he engaged the room,
then and there.
‘I will go back to the hotel, at the
entrance of the valley, and have my
traps sent up, at once/ lie said. ‘1
shall have time to get jb&pk before sun¬
set/
‘For the land sakes, Alice, do hur¬
ry, and hull them strawberries !‘ said
aunt Hester, bustling about, after he
had gone, ‘while I get ready the bis¬
cuits for tea. 1 shall make a pretty
sum out of this, and if you work real
hard, I'll buy you a new delaine/ ’
‘No, he isn‘t like us,‘ thought Alice,
b sily hulling tt.q strawberries. ‘J
dori‘i believe he would talk, like Ezra
Barnard, all the time about potatoes
and squashes. Oh, I do hope not ! I
wish somebody \y° ll 14 tel) me ot books
and of the world. 1 am so tired o!
tins dull, dull life/
She brushed the long, chestnut curls
carefully, in front of the littje mirror,
in her own room, and fastened a blue
ribbon at her throat, before going
down to supper, th-.it night.
The stranger glanced mQj:e admp>
ingly than ever at the pure, sweet
lace.
‘Hurry, and eat, Alice/ commanded
aunt Hester ; Tor you'll have to get
flje cjws up, and milk them. Your
uncle, won't be to home ‘til late.*
The giil obeyed, silently. Rising
she took h<w broad-brimmed hat from
its peg, and left the room.
Site was just lowering the meadow
bars, when a step sounded behind her,
and a pleasant vo ce said in her ear :
‘Allow me to assist you. And may
I accomuany you ? It‘s many a long
year since I used to go for the cows.*
‘Yes/ she said, quietly, ‘if you wish
to/ And together they passed iuto
the meadow, knee-deep among the
clover.
The girl's eyes, as they walked,
Were fixed, as he noticed, upon the
oluc hills in the distance in a dreamy
way.
GVfiat arc you thinking of: may I
ask ?‘ said her companion.
‘I was wishing’ 1 had books, f she
said,‘music and art; all that makes
life so beautiful: !Q.i, if I could only
She checked herself suddenly, re¬
membering that she was addressing a
stranger,
‘I know/ he said, gently. ‘But I !
have some books in my trunk that,
perhaps, you have never read. I wdl
lead them to you/
‘Thank you/ she said, simply ; and
then tl^ey drove the cows Lome in si¬
lence.
Ezra Barnard w is walking in the
front room, whea they returned.
‘Hullo, A1!‘ he said, greeting her,
H come over to ask you to a dig,
they‘re a-goin* to have down to the
corners, to-morrow night. How dy‘e
do?‘ acknowledging the introduction
to the stranger, awkwardly.
‘I cannot go, she said coldly.
‘Oli, pshaw, Al! YWre always
a-sayiug that. You can go. Your
aunt said you coulJ. They're a-goii/
| ia vo a tarnation sight of fun !‘
q cannot go, Ezra/
*p or (j ie land sakes, Alice, I s’m'd
think you‘d be ashamed of yourself 1‘
broke in aunt Hester, indignantly,
‘Arter all the p lins Ezra's took to
come way over here, a purpose to ask
you. Shu'd'nt you think she orghter
be ashamed, Mr Ellis?'
‘Perhaps Mss Bond does not care
for parties,' said the young man pleas
antly.
‘But this 'ere one is geiu' to be an
extra affair—two fiddles, an' an’ a bass
viol. I tell you it'll be a regular
hoe-down! Say, A1—‘
But the girl had slipped quietly
from the room,
‘I swan,' exclaimed Ezra, rising, his
florid face becoming several tinges
der, ‘if that hain‘t a purty trick
serve a fellar 1 There's more gals than
pne in the world, bowsomever, as I'll
jest show her. 1*11 ask Alminy Bind
wort to go—she‘1! jump at the
chance.'
‘La, now don‘t be hasty, Ezra/ said
aunt Hester, soothingly. ‘Alice will
go. l‘ll bring her round, to-morrow.
She's only a little odd and offish.
When you're married, it‘ll be all
right ‘
‘I dou‘t know as I care about a
balky gal for a wife!, exclaimed Ezra,
f coarsely. ‘Perhaps I won't have her
arter all.‘ And snatching his hat, he
sullenly left the house.
Fater in the evening, when she
thought they were alone, aunt Hester
gave Alice what she called ‘a bit of
tier mind/ She ended, by savin :
'Wal, yoi/re a big fool! You've
lost Ezra Baruard by his tantrum. Pd
like to know vvlu/11 have you now ?
Mabbe you think you can catch this
city chap, you're so fine around. It’9
a likely thing he'd look at sich a gal
as yon be—’
‘Oh, aunt /cried Alice, interrupting,
and the tears di opped from the brown
eyes, -‘how can you be so cruel ? I
never, never, dreamed of such a—‘
She paused suddenly ; and burst in¬
to tears.
Every moment that Alice could now
snatch from drudgery, she spent in
reading. Before the books which Mr.
Ellis fyad first loaned her were finished,
he had sent to the city for more.
Nearly every evening, when aunt Hes*
ter was comfortably dozing in her
arm-chair, Mr. Ellis would select a
book, and going out into the porch»
would read aloud, in his clear, musi¬
cal voice, to Alice.
How kind and good he was, Alice
said to herself. How much interest
he seemed to take in her improve¬
ment. She felt so encouraged. The
old life appeared so far behind. She
had never known what happiness was
before.
Mr. Ellis had fallen into the habit
calling her r Allie / and sonehow, she
I ked it; for now, his month had
lengthened into three , and it seemed
to Alice as if they bad been together
forever.
‘Allie/ he said, ‘tomorrow will be
the first of November, and I am going
away.' They were standing by the
meadow bars, in the soft, evening twi¬
light* The last rays of the setting
sun were gilding the gir/s chestnut
hair, until it shown like burnished
gold. The
fringed curtains dropped quick¬
ly over the brown eyes, and a sudden
p dor overspread the sweet, girlish
face.
‘This has been a pleasant summer
and autumn, Allie/ he said ; ‘hasi/t
it
‘Yes/ she answered, with a voice
that faltered, in spite of all hpr efforts.
‘Shall you nrss me, Allie? 1
The intonation was so low, it was
hardly more than a whisper.
With a great effort the girl steadied
her voice, and answered, calmly :
‘Certainly, Mr. Ellis. I—-that is,
we—shall all miss you/
‘I am going home, Allie/ ho said,
watching her keenly, ‘to prepare a
castle for my lady-love, as a true
kpight should# Shall j te]1 yQl 1 aDout
her? Where ifirst met her, and hovv
I came to love tier V
‘jT you ph ase, came ever so faint¬
ly ; there was a terrible sickening at
her heart.
‘It was one day, as I was returning
from a hunt,’ he said, taking Aliee‘s
hand, that hung listlv at her side. ‘I
was very tired and thirsty, and from
the brow of a bill I espied, iu the val
ley below, a house. I determined to go
to it, and.ask for a glass ol water. As
J drew near, I saw a young girl stand
ing in its yard, watching the great,
fleecy, white clouds, that weie floating
inly about iu the sky,.‘
Alice started, and crimsoned sud¬
denly.
‘I paused, in admiration of the
sweetest face I had ever beheld/ he
said, pressing her hand. ‘Just the 1, a
woman came out of the house and re
piimande^ the girl sharply, and ask
ed her ‘what she saw.‘ The reply
was, ‘a castle/ Do you remember it,
Allie? From that moment, dearest, 1
tell in love with you, arid then anJ
there determined, if you were willing,
that I would prove your true knight.
s= 5 »rry Allie, a a to'
a *
There was a smothered little sob ;
quick glance up at his face, and
the gill whispered.
‘Yes, Harry/
And Harry went away, next
but came back before two months,
then Alic6 Bond went to live in
castle, which exceeded in beauty
wildest expectations.
—-^----—
The 3Iule.
The mule is the most unhealthy
imal in the world—unhealthy to
around.
The very atmosphere about a
is rather dangerous to inhabit.
We have money to bet that
Nature made the first mule, some
got hurt.
A mule is always ‘at home/ as
will tind by calling upon one of
critters.
He is continually possesed of a
ning: desire to stretch
cially i'is hind legs.
We liaue known this yearning
make trouble in several families.
Any wound which a mule
to give you may very properly be
led an a-bray-sure.
Be careful that you are nevC.’
i^p* in this way.
A mule is a great prophet.
He can prophecy a man’s sudden
illness or death twenty feet off.
This makes him very profitable to
doctors and glide* takers.
He is also possessed of great healing
power.
The saying that a bright jewel lies
deeply buried in the epd of a mule's
tail is a delusion and a snare.
Mule meat may be good diet for a
Frenchman, but not for beef-raising
Y aukees.
The less mule meat a man has the
better.
The only way that we could
persuaded to eat a mule would be to
b-eat him.
Likewise, the only way we could
got to ride a mule would be to de-ride
him.
And the darkey was right when he
said that the only way to ‘lub' a mule
was to ‘e'lub’ him.
No man ever sees a mule kick [him.
The man is usually seized with ob
secured vision just at that juncture.
We have seen a man get up after a
mu)e fond kicked hint (very rarely,
though), .andjswear with both hands
uplifted that be didn't believe the
animal had stirred a peg—he looked
so immovable and unconcerned.
A mule is a very ‘quick'animal.
Great quantities of this substance is
hidden away beneath his toe calks.
Caution: Take our word for this,
and don't go hunting around in that
vipinitv.
You can’t w< igii a mule with any
so ,- t of accuracy.
An ounce of mule weighs more than
a pound of any other livestock,
And no matter what his condition
may bo, a mule is bound to kick the
beam.
The only beam which a mule can¬
not kick is a a sunbeam.
But he can knock the beam out of
a man's eye with greater alacrity than
any other influence.
In this respect he is a regular mot-oy
power.
As a great explorer, the mule is
equal to Stanley.
When he goes exploring for a man
always finds him.
The sqfest place to stand by a mule
does not exi-L
He is the dynamite fiend of the fore¬
legged kingdom.
We have often wished that some
‘bunko’ man would try to ‘pope iu a
mule.
He would never be worth a row
pins again.
The mule is a very headstrong
beast.
He is likewise exceedingly heel
strong.
The mule—but blame a mule, any
way!
A little girl wanted more buttered
toast, but was told that she had e it
enough, and that more would make
her sick. ,WelJ,' said she, ‘give me
anuzzer piece, and send for the doc¬
tor.’
Brown‘s wife weighs over two huu
kred pounds; when Brown asked her,
"Shall I help you over the fence, my
dear?" she replied, demurely, V.Nci,
help th i fence.’
It is said a hornet's nest contains as
many as 15,C00ceils. If any of
hornets arc g. ? they will show
? 5
The Local Editor.
The following is borrowed, and it is
the best we ever had a local editor to
lend us :
If a man buys a new buggy,or if his
cow can bawl three times without
winking, the local is expected to pro¬
claim it with a grand flourish If he
starts a two penny business, his first
thought is to bribe the local with a
five-ccnt cigar to write a five dollar
puff.
Indeed, he thinks it is a mission of
the local to make his fortune for him
by ‘free blowing/ He will take the
local to one side and point out the su¬
perior qualities of a rat-terrier, and
coolly ask him to give him a hoist.—
lie dou't care anything about it, only
Spriggins has a dog which bethinks
is a buster, and some of ’em wanted
his put iu just to take the conceit out
of Spriggins.
Everybody wants to be ‘put in '—
They are the Great I Am, but no one
says, 'Here, local, put yourself inside
this new suit of clothes/ or ‘throw
yourself outside of this oyster-stew/
or *stuff this watch into your pocket.’
Oh, no, of cause not ; that would cost
s unething. The shoe is ou the other
foot, you see.
The local is supposed to know eve¬
ry thing about other people's business,
and is expected to show up all the ac¬
tors in every family br.nl in town. If
the vile tongue oi scandal^finds a vic¬
tim, people wonder wi/ he don't run
about with his notebook and gather
up the vituperative bits of slander lor
his paper.
It he steps into a billiard hall lie is
requested to make a note of ihe aston
sliiug fact that Bill Tompkins has
made a run of eleven points.
When the minstrel troupe arrives in
town, the agent immediately rushes
into the printing office, and calling for
the local, he slips two or three tickets
in his hand and whispers :
‘Draw us a rousing house. Put it in
strong.
/And patting him patronizingly on
the shoulder, the agent admits the in¬
feriority of the troupe, but are not to
‘let on/
It is no sin for the local to lie. To
please the lecturer, the local is forced
to sit two mortal hours to hear him
through an insipid discourse, so that
he can ‘write him up/
And so it goes. All are anxious to
appear favorably in print, but lew are
w iling to p»y for it. The local’s time
is worth nothing but to b >ther his head
writing puffs for ambitious persons. Jt
doesn't cost him anything to live ; he
never eats, or drinks, or travels, and
money is of no use to him Put it in !
put it in !
He Has a Case.
A man with a bad-looking nose and
a melancholy appearance generally,
entered Judge Potter's office the other
day, and slamming a paper down on
the desk, he exclaimed :
‘I submit the docs, and demand a
divorce 1'
The court looked at him in a puzzled
way, and the stranger continued:
‘Hump the papers together mighty
quick, for she's out after a dray to move
the furniture,
‘I can't give you a divorce,' answer¬
ed his Honor.
‘Here's the cash down, mister, said
the stranger pulling out a sin ill tiu
box full of shin plasters, ‘and here's
charges that will make your blood run
cold.
He was instructed as to what steps
he must take, and in his excitement
and^ confusion he went away, leaving
the ‘does/ on the desk. The charges
read as follows :
1. Pulling hair, jawing, and kicked
rac.
2. More pulling hair.
3. Kicked me Christmas day, and 1
can prove it.
4, Tried ^o pizeu me, and then jaw
e< ^ around,
4, Sitting down in the cellar and
reading dime-novels, and striking me
when 1 talked to her like a kind fa
^ ier ,
6. Teasing me to take her to a circus
and then gettiqg mad and mining a
mighty good dishpan,
7. Jawing, kicking, fightings cuss
mg, threatening, making up faces and
demanding money to buy ice T cream
and candy for her darned old relations^
And so forth to wit, and a good many
other things which I can prove
straighter than a sti ing. Grant me this
divorce gentlemen, and 1 will vote lor
you if you ever run for alderman.
A gpod place to get a husband—By
NO. SI.
m IT & [HUMOR
...
\ J/
if •1
Nothing so lubricates the muscles as
sweet toil.
The Rome Sentinel thinks a health}'
Indian is a well red man.
Avoid the slanderer as you would a
wasp. There is poison in his tale.
Idaho has a Boise City to offset the
Town of Onegirlia in Dakota territory*
A fellow should nevei kiss his
on the mountain, because mountains
peak.
-♦♦♦
It has been noticed by a
that haves always fall before fall
leaves.
A jockey c ills his team
and Petroleum because they are par¬
affine steeds.
The active manufacturer ot
tools is the only man who can do
things at once.
In Michigan a bride may be mar¬
ried without gloves—precisely the
way she handles her husband.
If you ask a Parisian for a small loan
he is pretty sure to be franc with
you. He may sou yon, thoughts
Why are the thoughts of a printer
understood ? 'Because they give
the publican inkling.
-—
Why is an auctioneer like old
ther Time ? Because he is forever
going and forever gone.
^ ^ -
The undertaker smiled serene,
cause he knew she would aspire,
light with blazing keroseue the slow
delinquent kitchen tire.
Though the average small hoy may
steal away and cat a watermelon all
by himself, he never refuses to divide
his medicine with a little sister.
A Rhode Island jury were six days
on a hog case invoking seven
and then recommended both
to the mercy of the court.
It wili soon be time for the bullfrog
average s >cial standing to ‘Jump
the bottom of a well, and swear
by jingo he’s just from—the bottom.
“Will a village cow pay? - ' asks an
exchange. We can't say
to their paying any thing themselves
we have often Reen them dun.
The other night an Arkansas man
into a telephone nearly ten
and the telephone had three
whiskey fits before eight o’clock that
........ ......... '^zaczr- -
The editor of a paper reeeutly insist¬
that poets must be brief. The. next
he received a composition entitled
Ballad of the Merchant: Tiust—
A negro boy was driving a mu la
the animal stopped and refused
budge. ‘Won’t you go, eh?“ said
boy. ‘‘Feel grand, do you ? I
you forgot your fadder was
little jackass.' 4
The man who successfully wrestles
a half button on the back of his
and comes out of the ordeal with¬
traces of profanity, has a c in¬
with a double-barreled man¬
roof on it.
--
We notice that ‘‘Hug Me to Death
tiling, 1 ' is the name of a new song.
are ready to do so—owing to who
is, though. If she is handsome
sweet we will be on hand if she
advice us when she is ‘heady to
to press."
Gh! cheering spring lias come again
all its cheering powers; with
soft in every vein, and roseclad
y bowers. At early dawn we
our bed, to hunt for sweet May
but get, instead, a cold iu our
|€a d, an ! a catarrh, by the powers!
A Yankee who h id never paid
more than twenty-five cents to sec
exhibition, went to a New York
one night to see the “Forty
The ticket-sePr charged bin
cents for a ticke t. Pass ug
past* -board back lie quietly remark¬
Keep it misfce^ I don't want to g *e
other thirty-nine apd out he inarch^