Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME VII.
gggH I *T m M X
growing old.
Jo it parting with the round*:ess
Of the smoothly-dimpled cheek ?
1 „ it losing from the dimples
Half the Bv hm} joy they speak?
Is it fading ot the luster
Fvom the wavy, golden hair ?
Is it finding ou the forehead
(iraver lines of thought and care.?
Is It dropping- as the rose-leaves
I),op their sweetness, overblown—
household names that once .were dearer
More familiar than our own?
Js it meeting on the pathway
]<’,«:<•* strange and glances cold,
While the soul, with moan and shivor,
Whispers sadly, “Giowinp old.”
\n it lrowumg at the lolly
Ot the ardent hopes of youth?
2n it cynic melancholy
At the raritv ot truth?,
J« it disbelief in loving,
Selfish hate, or miser’s greed?
'll en, such blight of nature’s noblest
Is a “growing old” indeed.
but the silver thread that shineth
Wtitely through the thinning trees,
Ami the pallor where the bloom was
Need not tell of bitterness,
And the brow’s more earnest writing,
Where it once wjis marble fair,
May lx; but the spirit’s tracing
Of the peace of answered prayer,
If the smiles have gone in deeper,
Ami the -fears more quickly start -
both together meet in music
Low and tender in the heart!
And in others’ joy and gladness,
Wheu the life can find its own,
Surely angels Jean to listen
To the sweetness of the tone.
Nothing lost of all we planted,
Vntbn time of budding leavs •
Only something bound in bundles,
Aud set by our precious sheaves—
Only tree sure kept in safety,
Out of reach and out of rust,
Till we clasp it—grown the richer
Through the glory ot our trust!
Ou the gradual sloping pathway,
As the passing years decline,
Gleams a golden love-light, falling
Tar from upper height) divine ;
And the shadows from that brightness
Wrap them sottly in their fold,
^ ho unto celestial whiteness
>\alk by way of growing old.’
MISCELLANY.
Secret of Happiness.
The most common error of men and
■"Btside of looking for happiness
of useful work. It has never
^ een found when thus sought, and
v 1 will be. The sooner the truth
the better for every one. If
doubt the proposition, glance
among your friends and aC'
I r•* tnnees and select those who ap
B dr to have the most enjoyment in
e ' Ar« they idlers and seekeis, or
workers? We know what
' Ul Wou ^ he. Of all the misera
“ Uman beijig-s it has been our for
' reislortuoe to know, they were
1 s t wretched who had retired
'°ra useful emnloyment, in order
to
• themselves. Why, the slave, at
1! ’ r C'd labor,
' the hungry toil
; or
■ 1 l ' !t ‘1, were supremely happy in
■” ll, panson.
I Earnestly would impress
we upon
W m minds the truth have
esa the foundati wo stated.
■ 1 ‘ on of all welt-be¬
' s tranquility and pleasure
*
I * ' ullt h just stepping across the
1 rational life, as well as to
UQ who8 eyears are beginning to
.
h° n his stoop shoulders. ll ut
> s ug,> in useful works, if
H ® happy. you
This is the great se-
1 Chicago ledger.
I > who bus assisted at a bat*
1 ’ il0w joyous the survivors
er ^ ie danger is all how
over,
v good-natured they all
how glibly every fongue
like we havp noticed a
- condition
of things among
( lv
of3—we beg pardon, heaiv
1( ie Conc lnsion
p of a long ser
[r 1 ' ll iors °f| a physiological turn
•v,,, M o^trace a connection be
Aq e Jtwo i ** situations.
i* • •»-
m." 'Oil Uln jc.ui S : lion "How tmnter contributes
B to catch lion:
is composed of sand and
*• ^ke
M ^ 8ieVea,ld Rifttl »e;desert
8ft n r
1 »b a * „ *hich ,! r cmain. These you place
y 0u fojr the ur
•Wth 0 -cent dish one oyster
sata e stew.
\ J
& iff—^ & ♦
MR. COVENTRY’S
BY SIDNEY THORNE.
Dear 1* rank : I have found a wife
for you at last, my boy. You remem
ber when I counseled you, before you
left home, to find some good, sweet
girl and marry and settle down, yon
said ; ‘Father^ you find n»e such a
one, and I will abide by jonr decision/
And old schoolmate of yonr mother,
Mrs Bradley, and her niece, called on
us last week. She was passing through
the town, and, knowing we lived here,
found us out. Your mother persuad¬
ed them to stay two days with ns.
Frank, her niece is the girl. They
have promised to stay a short time with
us again when they return from the
country. I want you to come home
in about three weeks, and, if you don't
fall in love with the sweetest girl your
old father ever saw, he will be disap¬
pointed.. Your affectionate father,
F. B. Coventry.
The letter was lying in the loose
clasp of a young man fairly stretched
in the shadow of a large rock in one
of nature’s most delicious no<>ks. He
was a fine specimau of graceful man¬
hood and profound comfort, as he lay
there with eyes closed, and the soft
breeze ruffling the hair from his fore _
head,.
lie was evidently asleep, and the
rock, jutting around, entirely conceal¬
ed him from view. By his side lay a
portfolio^
‘Well, Qu :en Bess, what is your
royal pleasure?'
The sweet, ringing Vv>ice, saying
these words, awoke with a start the
young man.
‘Sister Alla, I want to go over the
brook and see what is ou the other
side.’
‘In other words, you want me to
carry you over those slippery stones,
you little tyrant ! Weft, clasp your
arms tight around my neck. Here we
go.’
Looking around the side of the rock,
the artist (for so he was) saw a far
prettier picture than all his summer's
rambling had found him.
A young girl was half way across
•lie brook which purled quietly along.
The supple grace of her figure was
perfectly displayed by the attitude in
which she was holding the little laugh¬
ing child. Her face was turned away,
but the shapely head, crowned by soft
braids of hair, and the tiny rings, curl*
ing so softly around the white neck>
left the observer no doubt but that it
would be a fovedy one.
He watched until the trees hid their
receding figures from his view, and
then, taking his portfolio went around
the rock to the spot where they must
have been sitting.
A book lay there. Fiank took from
lbs button-hole a spray of wild roses,
and laid it in the half-open pages. As
he sauntered slowly homeward he
wished he could have stayed and seen
the surprised look, which would come
in the sweet face (for sweet he knew
it must be) on seeing the fairy book¬
mark in the shadow of the friendly
rock Jt seemed a long time before
hu saw the face, which occupied so
much of his thoughts, in won*
dering what it was like. But at last
he was satisfied. He heard steps f and
a childish voice, and he knew they
were come.
‘Alla, sister Alla, let me curl your
hair/
‘My pet suppose some one came
along, and caught me with my hair all
down/
‘No oue ever cotnes here, Alla.
Please let me/
With a feeling as if he wee doing
something mean, Frank peered cau¬
tiously around the rock. There sat
‘Alla' on a mossy stone, and the little
sister gleefully unbraiding, and twist¬
ing around her fingers, the soft
hair. Frank’s artist eye was enrapt¬
ured.
The face was even fairer than his
ideal. After one long look, he reso
lately took a book, and resumed his
usual lazy position.
‘I am a mean fellow, to peep at a
girl when she thinks no oue is near,
and I won't do it again. 1 can't very
well go oow, as they will be staitled ;
so I’ll stay until they go/
The young man in listening to their
artless conversation noticing the ca
ressing fondness of the older, and the
clinging” ,ove ot the y lovely oung * r character ®’ 8 ter —
learned more of the
of the girl near him than if he had
met her a dozen times in society.
Aud &o the time passed. Frank oc-
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 1S79.
casionally saw the sisters at a dis>
tance.
lie did not go to the tock again, as
it was evidently their favorite retreat.
One afternoon, as he was watching
a lovTlv 1‘ttle bit of scenery m his
portfolio, he heard a scream. Springs
ing to his feet, he listened intently for
a moment, and then started in the du
rection of the brook.
On the bank stood the yoiiPg tfD 1 ,
and, struggling in the water, some dis- 1
tance off, was the little sister.
Without stopping to spea,k to the
agonized girl, just as he was, Frank
sprung iuto the water. The brook was
not wide, but deep ' a»id, encumbered
as he was by his clothing and hin¬
dered by the lit'le one’s frantic strug
H s , Frank had difficulty in reaching
the bank again. But he was fully re'
paid for his exertbns by the look in
the hazel eyes which met his own as
he placed the child iu the arms uni¬
stretched to rece ; v.e her.
‘Oh sir ! how can I thank you?
My darling!’
Here her voice broke, and Frauk,
taking the little girl into his own
arms said ;
‘I need no thanks. If you will
show me where you live, I will cany
your sister there. She may* take
cold.'
It was no time for ceremony, and,
as they walked rapidly along, she told
him how the accident happened.
She had been reading, and had al¬
lowed her sister to wander off a little
w.ty in search of wild flowers, when
suddenly she heard a scream, and, in¬
stinctively knowing what was the
matter, reached the brook just in time
to see her darling struggling iu the
water. She had tried to cross on the
stepping stones and bad fallen,
When they reached the house the
young girl turned :
‘I should like to know the name of
my sister's precious deliverer. My
B-unt and myself can never repay vou,
sir.’
Taking the soft hand extended to
him Frank said :
‘My name is Frank Coventry V
‘And mine is Elia Merrill*’
Taking her sister in her arms, she
left him and entered the house.
When he arrived home Frank sat
down and thought it all over. The
hand in which the soft fingers had
rested so short a time felt very stange
ly. lhe letter his father had written
him came to his mind, and with it a
feeling of distaste which he had not
felt when he read it.
Ah ! Frank, the rosy boy was mis¬
chievously aiming at you from among
the boughs oyer your head that day.
when, from under the shadow of the
rock, you w*atclied the graceful figure
wending her way over the stepping
stones.
And Frank, as he arose from think¬
ing over, knew what caused the thrill
in the hand, which had never thrilled
under the touch of any maiden's fin¬
gers before. The next day he was to
start for home. Going out in the
morning, he gathered a cluster of wild
roses and violets, and took them to the
home, which now held all the bright¬
ness in life to him. He inquired for
the child, and learning she was quite
well, left the flowers for ‘Miss Merrill.’
‘My dear son, how glad I am to see
you. It has seemed very lonely all
summer without you.’
‘Dear mother, I am glad to be
home/
‘Frank, Mrs. Bradley and her nieces
are coming to-morrow. I so wanted
you home to help us entertain them. I
have been worrying for fear some¬
thing would detain you/
‘Father, you only mentioned one
niece/
‘Did I ? Well, there are two ; but
the young lady—ah, Frank, your moth¬
er and I are sure you will fall in love
with her. My first impressions never
deceived me, and she is an angel !'
‘Stop father, I must tell you some¬
thing. I am sorry to disappoint you ;
but—I am in love already.'
The old gentleman fixed an incredu¬
lous look on his son, and his mother’s
sewing fell from her hands.
‘You in love, Frank ? why have you
deceived me ?’
‘I didn't father, f >r I met this young
lady only three weeks ago ; but I love
her as well as if I had known her for
years*'
‘•Veil, wife, this is too bad. How
true the poet says :
‘The best laid-schemes o' mice an’ men
Gang aft aglee.
‘At any rate, I am not sorry we called
him home. IBs but a dull house with¬
out you, Frank, and we w ant to make
their visit pleasant/
Tne next evening Mr. Coventry
l°°hed in the cozy lihraty, muffled up
for a drive.
‘Have a good hot supper ready
wife ; they'll be famished. Good-bye,
you disappointed bdy.’
lhe tiain roaied into the depot, and
whizzed out again leaving on the plat
form three travelers—two ladies atid
a httle girl.
Ah, Mrs. Bradley, I'm glad to see
J 7011 * aBt l your niece, too. Come right
along. Dennis, dtive closei,
They well?soon in the carriage, and
driving hot.vewa.^. then the old
gentlemen learned tha! they had just
left the place in whici* bis s>? u bad just
speot the summer
On his them if ri<?'l t
a young artist named Coventry, it
came out about the accident which
had befallen little Bessie, and that the
deliverer must have been his son.
Mr. Coventry watched Ella closely’
as her aunt was talking, and smiled to
himself with delight as he saw a tell¬
tale blush rising over the pure cheek.
He guessed that this was the girl his
son loved as though he ‘had known
her for years,' and his plans were not
to be disappointed after all. He only
said he was pleased they had met,
and the conversation turned to other
subjects.
When they arrived at the house,
Mrs. Coventry took them right up to
lay oft their tilings, and Mr Coventry
went into the libra y
#
‘Well, father, have they come?’
‘Yes ; they are up stairs with your
mother. Now, he sure and make
yourself agreeable to the young lady.’
‘But--'
‘Tut, tut! ‘But me no buts.'
As his mother and her guests came
into the library, the room suddenly
whirled around before Frank’s eyes.
Bef re he had recovered his com
posure again, his father said :
‘Miss Men* 11, tlrs is my son Frank.
I tnink you have met qefore.'
Old Mr, Coventry's plaus did not
go ‘aglee,’ and, before many months
had passed, a quiet country place in
the b >som of the Connecticut valley
saw a bridal couple starving along by
the brookside.
'EH), it was here, crossing this stone
I first saw you.’
‘My dear, here is a wild-iose spray.
Does it remind you of the one you
placed in my book V
Drawing her gently to him, Frank
Coventry looked down into the b*ppy
face of his young wife anp softly said :
‘Yes. 1 little thought that spray of
roses was my first tribute to her who
was to be my ‘queen rose of the rose*
bud garden of girls,’
Leisure,
How the tired man of business
looks and longs for his dry of leisure,
or perhaps his Saturday afternoons,
when he can get out of his usual
groove oi labor, and sniff the fresh
breeze from the shady woodlands. In
these few hours of leisure lie often
crams days of pleasant memories, and
while occupied with duties a close ob¬
server sees a mdrrier twinkle of the
eye, a more pleasant smile lights up
his face, and his footstep moves with a
now vigor; he is also improved in dis¬
position, and serves himself or his em¬
ployer better.
To a man or woman whose whole
time is leisure, no such pleasures are
in store ; the time hangs heavy, and all
things are viewed through smoked
glass, and sometimes the glass is won
derfully darkened ; from such we often
hear the expression, ‘We have not
time,’ or, ‘Our t me is wholly occus
pied/ Depend upon it, this is only a
palliative to conscience, as regards du¬
ties, or the flimsy gauze to hide onr in
dift’erence from our friends.
A Texas Horse Trade.
There is some humor in Texas. The
other day a man brought out a for¬
lorn, spavined-looking steed, and ad¬
dressed the spectators thus : ‘Fellbw
citizens, this is the famous horse Dan¬
dy Jack. L"ok at him. He’s perfect.
If he were sent to the horse-maker
nothing could be done for him. What
shall I have for the matchless steed ?’
‘VYhat will you take for him ?’ yell¬
ed the crowd,
‘Two hundred dollars.’
‘Give you $5/
‘Take him. I never let $195 stand
between me and no horse trade/
That‘s business.
A market report sa^s ‘‘there’s noth¬
ing doing in cheese." He should have
qualified his remark by siyin^ there
was r ’a little mite doing"
I Give Him a Trade.
If education is the great buckler and
shield of liberty, well-developed in
dustry is equally the buckler and
sh5e ld of individual independence. As
art unfailing source through life, give
U| . gon> e q„ a { w ith a good education,
a good honest trad e. Better any trade
than none , though there is ample field
for the adoption of every inclination
in this respect. Learned professions
are speculative employments—tilay
foil a man, but an honest handicraft
trade seldom 0 , eV , r _ if ila poBM8Bor
choose to use it. Bet him feci, too^
that honest labor-crafts are honorable
and noble. r lhe men of trades, the
real creators of what is most essential
to the necessities and welfare of man
kin/h cannot be dispensed with. 1 iiey
a {j,*ve aM others, in whatever repute
they ha.*e bC<!° held by ‘heir most
fastidious fe V°*% m,l8t work at the
l all is lost.—
of human prog.’ <>ss or
oar ’ tradesmen
But few brown-haou. bad
think of this appeciate the. - rea 1 dow
or
er and position they compass, GivT
your son a trade, no matter what for¬
tune he may have or is likely to in¬
herit. With this he can always buttle
with temporal want, and can always
be independent.
A young man who commences his
li r e with not liking his business lets no
very promising prospect belore him,
Let such a one believe himself to be
under the immediate influence of “an
evil eye/’ and set about releasing him¬
self at once by a resolute refusal to
retain any thoughts bust such as ap¬
pertain to duty, clearly before him,
and how to do it well and honestly.—
It is a great mistake to be prepossessed
with fanciful advantages to be derived
from any other calling than the one
which circumstances have combined
to impose, as an introduction to the
busy responsibilities of manhood. How
many have made shipwreck of the
fairest hopes by ieebly giving away to
the illusion of being meant for better
things than keeping shop. To be above
one's business is a mean pride that has
its origin in indolence, betokens a dis¬
honorable career, and an end in bank¬
ruptcy, if not in something worse.—
Chicago Ledger.
Smoking by Boys.
How few pet sons realize that the
money spent on tobacco iu this coun¬
try, would feed and shelter every poor
family in the laud ; that thousands of
finer organizations among men awaken
in middle life to the consciousness that
th»‘ir brains are being gravely affected
by the use of tobacco, only to struggle
in vain against its fetters ; that direct¬
ly and indirectly, tobacco hastens the
death of large numbarsof persons ev¬
ery year,
With these facts in view, parents
should remember that tfie habitual use
of t obacco has reached down t f > mere
boys, many of whom strut the streets
with cigars-ih thejr mouths, while oth¬
ers think it manly to have their smok-
ing-partics.
Now, excesses of every kind during
the period of growth smite fearfully at
the very foundations of future health
and life.
It is well known that Germans are
inveterate smokers. The}' are often
pointed at as proof of the harmlessness
of the habit. But a correspon lent of
the London Times affirms that the au¬
thorities in Germany are taking meas¬
ures to arrest the practice am mg the
young, on the ground, as attested by
the German physicians, that it inca¬
pacitates them from the deleuse
their country.
‘Smoking/ he adds, ‘weakens the
powers of the stomach at that impor¬
tant cris ; s of development when the
largest quantities of food have to be
assimilated to build up the growing
frame. It lowers the vitality of the
heart, Muscle, energy, endurance, in¬
deed all that makes the man and the
soldier, are thus at stake/ Not only
parents, but boys them-elves, should
heed this warning.
Who breathes upon the icy rivers
and they dissolve? Who raises to
life the sleeping vegetation and clothes
all nature in a new dress? Lookup
to the bended heavens above you ; see
that exhaustless fountain of light and
and heat as luminous, as abundant iu
its supply as when first it came from
the plastic hand of God. T-ue same
moon, and the same rnyiiad of stars,
bestud the firmament, as those that
d» cled the evening of the first haflow
ed Sabbath.
Put a spider into a box and let it
pine away, was an old cure for the
agrn*.
Origin of the “Star Strangled
Haiuier. M
The bombardment of Baltimore com
menced at 8 o'clock in the morning ol
| thorns. Sent 13 1814 and continued twenty*
I The garrison at Fort Me.
| Henrv saw th > flag of truce carried
during the bombanWnt by the small
boat in which Francis Scott Key visi
ted the British fleet to obtain the re
I lease of his friend Dr Beanes, of Prince
| George county, Md .* who * had been
tn-ule ‘ ‘ a nrisoner 1 nf war and was on
board one of the ships^ where he was
detained until the firing had ceased.—
1 Qn the cessation of the bombardment
Mr - Key was permitted to leave the
| enemy's f ij ships and j was *.g rowed to the
ort t e son g of t )e tar Sprangled
Banner^’ which he had composed dur
j,,g ^j, e watches of the night. Soon
after he landed, the ron-h draft ot the
verses, as he had just written them
down on the back of a letter while com.
ing ash >re in the rowboat, was handed
around and some of the garrison made
copies of them. Judge Nicholson, the
-'uptain of the artillery company, and
Ki j had married sisters, and the
Judge sotl ms to have been the first
person to whom ' the .author showed the
verses. The same ’gilt at his hotel in
Baltimore, Mr. Key wi\.’*' e ou ^ 1 ^ alr
copy of the verses as they no»r 8 ^ ant ^
and gave a copy to Judge
who had the song ° published, 1 and it
puuliely , (or the first , time shortly , ,
sung
af ter ward in the Holiday Street 't hea¬
tre. CjI. Cohen was very distinct in
his remembrance that the song was
copied by some of the soldiers at the
fort, and no doubt it was shown to
Judge Nicholson there .—Baltimore
Sun.
Encourage the Young.
If a young man deserves praise, be
sure to give it to him, else you not on¬
ly run a chance of driving him from
the road by want of encouragement,
but deprive yourself ot the happiest
privilege you will have ol rewarding
his labor. For it is only the young w ho
can receive rnucti reward from men's
praise ; for the o’d, when they are
great, get too f »r beyond and above
what you may think of them. You
may urge them with sympathy
surround them with acclamation, but
they will doubt your pleasure and de¬
spise your praise. You might have
cheered them on in the race through
the asphodel meadows of their youth t
you might have brought the proud,
bright scarlet to their faces, if you
had cried but once, 'Well dune V* as
they dushed up to the first goal of
their early ambition. But now their
pleasure is in memory aud their ambi¬
tion is in heaven. They can be kind
to you ; you can never more be kind
to them .—Chicago Ledger.
Words oi Wisdom.
Self-sacrifice is the only power that
can plant or build.
Earnestness of purpose can spring
only from strong convictions.
There can be no true thankfulness
where there is no benevolence.
No indulgence of passion destroys
the spiritual nature so much as res¬
pectable selfishness.
Human life defined by 7 a line is as un¬
comfortable as would be the human
figure defined by a wire.
The object of all ambition should be
to be happy at lnnie. If we are not
happy there, we capuot be happy else¬
where.
Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is
criminal, ... and , he . may properly . , be
charged , , with . , evil who refused to learn
hovv , he , might . lA prevent it. .
All skill ought to be exerted for uni
versa! good ^ : every man has owed
much , to others . and , ought , to repay the ,
kindness that he has received.
Mortality is an event by which a
wise man can never be surprised ; we
know tli >t death is always near, and it
should, therefore, aiways le
Pride is seldom delicate; it will
fle.se itself with very mean ad vaota
S ts i and env J fuels not its ow " ha Pf‘
" css > but wll0, ‘ il ma y bc compared
"tth the rnLei y of otheis,
Great works are performed, not by
strength, but by peiseverance ; he tiiat
shaft wa k with vigor three hours a
day will pass in seven years a space
equal to the circumfereuco. of the
globe.
A person may learn to play the vio
lin tolerably by car, but when he un
d« rtakes to write poetry by ear, he iu
variably stumbles. It only server to
make his ears more conspicuous.
NO. li.
YdVlT&jHUMOR
| V I _ >4
! 1 /
r v
1
j That ^ young David was a clever fellow
I we t ' ver heard ot.
-
'
If the Bostou Post can be believed
no ghost need spectre go 1o heaven.
Whether he i* great or small, set
that man down for a fo >1 who boasts
that he does not read the local papers.
Milk is nutritious, but the chap who
drinks a half gallon of it must foil coui
pletey cowed down.
The B igantic faitl. c f Al.r»h»m new
P<*'e8 before tl.e trusting confienee of
ll,e ma " who ca,s c,,CH '" ,ts ln ,hc dal k -
What I'd like to know,’said j school
boy, ‘is how the months of the rivers
can be so much larger than their
heads.'
A wit asked a peasant what part he
performed in the gieat drama ol life*
’‘I mind my own business," was tho.
I jVIr. Bo well*, a member of the Cart*
•
^ P „ liamtnt> wa8 making a speech
'Mier L . day , \Then , the presiding oEScw
1 # U1C i lfl °
ruled IW.’ Ilsou t ol ?rder.
Would’t you rathe. 1 * * osc 8ev.en dollars
and a half than to go up-stairs in the
dark and find the top stairs one lower
than you thought it was.
“Uneasy lies the head that wears a
crown/ Of course it dues. And this
is the reason kings and queens don't
sleep With their crowns on.
An orator declaring that fortune
knocked at evei y man's door once, an
old Irishman said: ‘When she knock¬
ed at mine I must have oeen out.’
Josh Billings: Whenever yu cum
akrosta man who distrusts every dotty
yu have found one whom it is safe for
every butty to distrust.
Yes ted ay a policeman* arrested a boy
who had amosion tied in the corner of
his hankerehief. ’Hie charge against
him was earring concealed weepiui.
A mule's head does not contain a
brain capable of culture ond‘ refined
rearing, but it is wonderful to what
extent the other end of Lim cau be
reared.
“Good day, Mosel How you vas
shanged. Vould'n never hafo kuow'd
you!’ ‘But my name is not Moses*
sii' ‘Great be fens! Your name
shanged, too!’
A brick tell from a scaffold on the
head of a passing negro. ‘Fling dom
dar peanut shells another way up dar
wont yon? was the darkey's advic;, as
be scratched Hi »wo«l.
*
-
A hairless heifer is on exhibition fra*
the Western cities, and we catch a
glimpse into tha: happy futurity when
the cap if ary attraction of boarding
house butter will be butter remiuis-..
cence.
It is reported that an humble tomb
toward the sunset bears as part ot its
memorial legend those words: ‘‘He
was the first man that Horace Greeley
ever told to g.. West. Likewise he
was hanged for stealing a mule/
_. When TI . . hanging . , by , his . toes
a man is
from . the , . of high building,
cornice a °
1 J \
. completely and thor
ing so reassures
ou;b|y „ alUfies , lim as tDC 9addeil dis ,
that , , he safely , home . the ,
covery is at in
^
A Halifax tailor has tlie following
placard in his window, and business is
rushing in consequence: “Jest took
the meshureof 'is It >pd ’ighness' the
Duke of Hendinborough for a pare of
hunmontionable hoff of this 'ere piece*
A Kentucky paper remarks that the
look of intelligence assumed by the
young lawyer as he sits in court
should b'? put a stop to. It is calcula¬
ted to cause the presiding judge to
lose confidence in himself to makejiim
believe he doesn't know anything.
A contemporary beads his column of
Jokes ‘Nuts and Raisins/ probably
because he had to try so hard to era k
some of them, and then did not succeed
in raisin’ a 1 *ugh. We hope pecan do
better n< xt time. Peanut dismayed
but try again.