Newspaper Page Text
OLl'MK VI t.
f) $ E T 1R Y 4
„ L V THE LONG RUN.”
■ 1 ftp oM-fasliioned saying,
go lightly expressed.
1 W.1 so carelessly uttered,
L one of the best
Ob, ponder, young trider,
With young lit# begun ;
fbe deep, earnest meaning
0 { "in the long run.”
for “in tbe long run, boys,
Ibe seed will spring up
That was sown in the garden
Or droned iu the cup.
And remember ! no roses
Will spring from the weed,
And no beautitul trait
From unworthy seed.
How many a stripling
Iu trouble to-day,
Jiy riotous living
With comrades too gay ;
With character shipwrecked,
And duties undone,
Will bo sorrows harvesting
"lu the long run. ”
Aud “in Ibe long run,” will
The toiler /are best
Who performs honest labor
And takes honest rest.
Who, contented and happy,
Hastes uot, in a day,
Or a year, to heap riches
That will pass away !
The good and the evil
That bide on the earth,
The joy and the sorrow,
The pain and the mirth ;
'fhe buttles unheeded,
The victories won,
Will yield what was sown, lads,
"Iu the long run."
If everyone who’s played the fool
Had died ami turned to clay,
Bow many people would be left.
Alive aud well to-dap ?
MISCELLANY.
Josh Billings on Marriage.
Sum marry bekase they think wim
iwill be scarce next year, and live to
loiidei how the crop holds out.
Sum many to get rid of themselves
pd discover that the game was one
tiat two could play at and neither
win.
Sum marry for love, without a cent
“ their pocket, nor a friend in the
»rid, nor a drop of pedigree. This
Ugdesperate, but it is the strength
of the game.
Sum marry in haste and then set
tow and think it carefully over.
Mini think it carefully over fust and
set down and marry.
No one can tell jist exactly wfaar he
? letch up when he touches calico.
No man can tell jist exactly what
( ico lias made up her mind to do —
Wieo don‘t know hersell. Dry goods
kinds iz the child of eireum
ihiu.es.
Marriage iz a safe way to gamble.—
11 )’ou win, you win a pile, and if you
‘ o don’t lose anything.
A Bad llabit.
Exaggeration is a bad habit, but one
•inch was much practiced by the
) ungev members of our household.—
Qe mor “ing we all pledged ourselves
1 tfit-strictest veracity of speech for
- u Jay, each member of the family
rising offenders against the rule.—
" 'iitlv one of the girls said, ‘I nev
as so cold in my life/ An inquir-
1>u k caused the speaker to modify
'' Statement instantly, with, ‘Oh, I
[ mean that, of course I have
;
much colder many times, and I
" ■’t think it was so cold, after all '
ret *ark to the effect that ‘Miss So
so was the homeliest girl in the
civ 1
o '^s recalled as soon as made, the
^^'-ambso ^ K | r be,n S compelled only to rather admit plain that
was
01 excessively homely. So it
" n tlu ' ou gh the day, causing
laeh 1 uncut, which was good-na
} accepted by the subjects, and
fa ‘S r, se to constant corrections in
* ink* 1‘est of truth. One thing be
^ttore and more surprising, how
to each one of us, and that was
^ * amount of cutting d own which our
careless statements demanded
’ ! Giia new rule. We found that
; /°!
us had regarded the truth as
r tull y should .—Chicago
r as we
Wjer ;
.
Tl ‘ h ' ai four hundred
j n ,i ' L ‘ and twRnty
[J. n al in this country, and only
‘ ° lawyers. A cynical bacbe
■
S 8 ' ,OWa l a dios can
bfk 1 G Inout ^ much ad
hm t- 0 better
age the bruin.
pje Hashnun %xm£ ♦
Tlie Story of an Eventful
Journey.
BY MINNIE A. WEDGE.
‘And this is your final answer, Miss
Ernest?’ and the young man's hand¬
some face grew very pale, as he await
ed the answer.
Ilis companion's fair face flushed
deeply, and she turned partly away, as
if afraid that she might lose her firm¬
ness il she met the earnest eyes fixed
upon her, and she replied, with visi¬
ble effort, ‘It is, Mr. Davenport/
She was very pretty to look at—any
stranger would have admitted that—
and, as she stood in her plain, black
dress in the rays of the setting sun,
her presence seemed to light np the
low, plain room into positive beauty.
ller companion bore ull the exter¬
nal evidences of culture and wealth,
and his handsome dress contrasted
strangely with the poor, meager fur¬
niture of the room, but his eyes were
fixed in a sadly-admiring gaze upon
the young face before him. They
both stod in silence for a moment, and
then he stepped forward with extend¬
ed hand, and said, in a voice that
quivered just a little with pain, ‘I had
hoped to shield all your life with my
life. That can never be ; but if you
are ever in trouble, I hope that you
will consider me your friend ; I shall
ever be that,’
1 he solt, blue eyes of the young
girl filled witli tears at these words so
earnestly spoken, and, as she laid her
hand for a moment in his, she replied :
‘H 1 am evor in need of a friend’s as*
sist ince, I shall be only too ready to
call upon you.’
‘You could n Dt be too ready, Miss
Ernest 1 I will bid you good-bye/
‘Good-bye, Mr. Davenport/
And so the rich young lawyer pass¬
ed out, down the humbie walk, and
out through the wicket gate, feeling
as if he had lost all that was most
precious to him in life, and henceforth
must pursue his daily occupation with
a sense of something wanting—some¬
thing gone ; and he paced his hand¬
some apartments until very late that
night, trying in vain to clear away the
mist that seemed to have gathered
about his path. At last he said aloud,
T will go away for awhile ; perhaps
bustle and noise will help me to forget
May Ernest, for a little while at a
time. Relatives I have none, save
that precious cousin oi mine in the
West. Why not surprise him with a
visit? He is a jolly fellow ; perhaps
he will help me to shake off this
gloom. I wdl start to-morrow/
Meanwhile in the humble house
afore-mentioned, the object of Harry
Davenport’s thoughts sat in alow chair
in her own room, trying to smooth
out a tangled maze of troubled
thought ; at last she said resolutely,
while she forced back the ready tears,
‘No, I could never marry Harry Da¬
venport ; everybody would think that
I did it for a home, and he is so rich
and talented, while I am only a poor
orphan, with nothing but my ed ica
tion to depend upon for my daily
bread ; and besides, I do not love
him/
But, in spite of this earnest decla¬
ration, she took his picture from a ta¬
ble near by, and, after look at it long
and earnestly, bent and kissed it, and
then replaced it with tears in her eyes.
Then the great problem that had been
revolving iu her mind for many weeks
came to her stronger than ever before.
What should she do ? Where should
she go ?
‘I cannot stay here any longer/ she
decided. ‘Mrs Austin is very kind to
me, and offers me a home as long as I
w jjj stay with her; but she does not
real]y need u , e> an d I will not be de
pen j en t on anybody/ and her slight
fi guie straightened unconsciously, but
}lcr w ^ 0 j e attitude changed in a mo
ment as ^fie thought, 'and I cannot
jj ear to meet Harry again, and yet I
d j d not i ove him/ But her tone was
not quite so decided this time, ‘My
aunt writes me that I could get pleu
ty of situations in the West, as a
teacher in the public schools. If she
were not so far away, I would go to
her immediately ; she tells me to come
any time/ And, with this resolve,
she laid down and tried to sleep, but
the words, ‘I hoped to protect all
your life with my life' came to her
ever in her dreams.
The next morning she arose very
early, and greatly surprised Mrs. Aus¬
tin by her quietly-expressed deter¬
mination to start that day en route for
her aunt's home, hundreds of miles
distant.
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 24, 1879.
‘Bur you have traveled so little,
May,’ said the good woman, ‘You
will be sure to get lost. I would uot
undertake such a journey alone for all
the world ! What if the cars should
run off from the track, what would be¬
come of you then, I should like to
know V
But May smiled a sad little smile
and replied, ‘Cars do not run off from
the track every day, and I think I
shall be able to find my way to N-,
and, ouce there, I can find my aunt
easiiy enough, it is such a small place.
I thought that it would be very pleas¬
ant to take her by surprise.'
Then she went up stairs and pack¬
ed all her earthly possessions, but not
without some misgivings for the step
she was about to take. When she
came to Harry's picture she placed it
in her pocket, saving to herself, softly,
Perhaps it will be some company to
mo on my journey/
Then she went down stairs, and, af¬
ter bidding Mrs. Austin a tearful good¬
bye, and promising to return to her if
she did not like her new home, step¬
ped into the carriage that was to car¬
ry her to the depot, and was gone.
When she reached the station she
had her baggage checked, procured
her ticket, and, entering the car next
to the rear, seated herself and gave
herself up to dismal thoughts.
J ust one moment after a gentle¬
man with his hat drawn far over his
eyes came out of the depot, and, look¬
ing carelessly at the car which our
heroine had just entered, and then at
the rear car, as if to decide which one
to enter, finally entered the rear car
and settled himself for a long journey.
If he had entered the other car
what might have happened ?
But this was only another of the
strange coincidences that are happen
penirig all the time, although we do
uot always find them out.
May felt very lonely the next few
days. In the daytime she managed to
interest herself by watching her fel¬
low-travelers or the ever-varying
landscape, bnt when night came, and
found her alone in some strange hoteb
she felt as if she was, indeed, alone.
But, at last, she was nearing her des¬
tination, and by 9 o'clock in the even¬
ing would be in the town which she
imagined was to be her future home.
She did not like the idea of getting
there in the evening, but felt too anx
ions to get there to wait in the neigh¬
boring city until morning.
Her anxiety about traveling alone
was in a measure taken away, and she
began to feel something of the ease
of an experienced traveler, and when
a fatherly-looking old man, who had
sat with her for the last twenty miles,
asked her a few questions, she answer¬
ed him freely, aud soon found out that
ho lived only a few miles beyond her
own destination, and was well ac¬
quainted with many people there.
She asked him if lie knew her aunt
Mrs. Edwards, and he replied, ‘Oh,
yes ; I used to know her well—a nice
woman she was, too—died very sud*
denly a few weeks a50 of heart dis¬
ease, I believe,’ and then, suddenly
starting up, he exclaimed, 'Holloa 1
there is the man 1 have been looking
for all the way,' and, snatching his
bag, started in full pursuit of a man
who was just disappearing into the
next car.
She did not faint or cry out, as so
many would have dour*, but for a few
moments felt perfectly numbed by the
intelligence. What should she do
now ? There seemed nothing left for
her to do but to stop at the next sta¬
tion, twenty miles away, and take the
next train for home again ; and me¬
chanically she put her hand in her
pocket to take out her pocket
book to see how much money
she had left, when, as if her sorrow
a »d dismay were not great enough al
ready, she discovered that there was
uo pocKetbuok there—nothing but her
picture and handkerchief.
rose with frantic haste and ex
amined her seat, the floor, aod every
spot where it could have dropped, but
a 'l in vain.
She remembered then that, in the
crowd at the station where she had
last stopped for refreshments, she
once as it somebody was picking her
poeket, but, putting down her hand
and feeliug nothing, had concluded
that she was mistaken, and, having
her ticket iu her traveling-bag, had
had no occasion to look for the pock
etbook until now. What should she
do ? There she was, hundreds of
miles from home, a stanger, homeless
and penniless.
Would anybody believe her story if
she told it to them ?
She thought of Barry and the kind
protection that she would have if he
were only there, and wept bitterly.
Then, pulling her veil tightly down
over her face and leaning back in the
corner of her seat, she prayed earnest¬
ly, iu her great despair, and even as
she prayed there was a sudden crash
and shock, and before she had time to
think she was thrown violently from
her seat and crowded tightly into a
living mass of humanity in an over,,
turned car.
She could not move or see anything,
and, remembering her recent prayer,
felt as if it were really to be answered
immediately. The shrieks and groans
around her were appalling, but she
made no sound and did not struggle or
try to change her uncomfortable posi¬
tion in the least.
She heard anxious friends inquiring
of each other if they were hurt, but |
she had no friends, and was silent.
Fortunately the lamps were put out,
and the chief danger of the inmates
of the car seemed to be suffocation.
At last egress was made, and such
passengers as had been able to make
their escape commenced to help out
the others, some of whom were so
tightly packed in as to render it a very
difficult operation.
At last it was May's turn to be
helped out, and a voice that sounded
strangely familiar said : ‘If you^will
tak emy hand, I think that I can help
you out now,’ and in a moment she
was out of the stifling car in the pure,
fresh air ; but she felt sick and faint,
and staggered when she- tried to walk.
The kind stranger, seeing this, lift¬
ed her in his arms and carried her out
of the confusion to a little bank,
where he placed her gently down on
the soft grass, saying, ‘If you had
triends in the cars that you would like
me to find,’ hut here he stopped short,
for May, certain now that it was his
voice and n<> other, flung aside her
veil, and disclosed to Harry Davenport
the face that had haunted him on all
his journey. ‘May—Miss Ernest, is it,
possible ?' lie cried in excited tones.
‘How came you here ?' and without
waiting for a reply ho knelt beside
her, saying anxiously, ‘Are you hurt ?
Is there something I can do for you ?'
‘No, I am not hurt,’ she replied,
shuddering violently, ‘but I am in
trouble, Mr. Davenport, and need help/
‘And you shall have all the help that
I can give you,' he replied in low
tones that thrilled her heart with their
kindness,
‘It is so strange that j’ou happened
to be on the train. I don’t know
what I should have done if you were
not,' and she turned to him with per¬
fect trustfulness, and suffered him to
support her with his arm, while she
sat pale and trembling and told her
story from beginning to end.
He looked very serious and trou¬
bled, aud, when she had finished her
recital, said in a low, moved voice :
'I think that a higher will than mine
must have guided me all my journey
through, or I should not have been on
this train to-nignt.’
It was a strange situation to be in.
They were in a mountainous region
several miles from »
any habitation
whatever, and cries and groans fell
upon their ears as they sat there, and
above all this scene of confusion and
fright, the full moon shone brightly
down.
The passenger train and heavy
freight train which, through careless¬
ness, had caused the collision, were at
last cleared from the track, and anoth¬
er train came t> their aid, and May
soon found herself in a comfortable !
room iu a village tavern, where she |
was waited upon with the greatest
kindness by a maid whose assiduity
was in part caused by the two brig lit
silver half-dollars that Harry had pri¬
vately slipped into her hand.
Under her kindly ministration, May
soon fell into a quiet slumber, and did
not wake until the next morning, when
she dressed hastily and went down
stairs, where she fouud her friend anx
iousiy waiting to bear from her. He
was afraid that she was unfit for trav
el, but she was very decided that she
tuns; start for home that very day.
All the journey he was gently con
siderate, and paid her every attention
in a kind, brotherly way, aud she
trusted him and depended upon him
in a way which alternately charmed |
and bewildered him. !
As they ne ,red home, the old sad-;
ness came on his face again as he
thought how soon the happy dream of
the past few days would come to an
end.
‘Only a few more miles, and we
shall be at home again/ said May, in-
terrupting his thoughts. ‘Do you
realize it? It has been s very differ¬
ent journey to me from what was go¬
ing out. I can never thank you enough.
I can return your money, but I can
never repay your kindness.
As she spoke, she turned her blue
eyes, brimful of gratitude upon him,
and met a look in his brown eyes that
made her turn hastily away, aud, pull¬
ing out her Handkerchief, in her con
fusion, of course the picture fell out,
too. Before she could prevent him,
he stooped to pick it up, and, seeing
whose picture it was, retained it in his
hand while his eyes searched the
flushing face before him.
'Why did you cairy that picture
with you, Miss Ernest V
But her only answer was a Still
deepening color, and then the hope
that had flashed into his mind changed
into an almost-entire conviction, and
he said in a low tone, not that he was
afraid of anybody’s hearing him, for
they were in the rear of the car and
there were no passengers near them,
but because it seems natural to speak
low in a time of great earnestness :
‘You gave me your final answer that
day that seems so long ago to me ; but
something in my heart urges me to
ask again for a little of your love, only
a little ; if it were never so little, it
would make me happiest man in the
world.
‘It is yes or no ?'
The face opposite to him was avert¬
ed and seemed intent on studying the
landscape, but the hand next to him
was held toward him, and instantly
felt itself grasped in a warm, fervent
pressure.
This was her only answer, hut he
was more than satisfied. Just then,
when he felt as if he would have glad
ly riddden a thousand miles further the
inexorable conductor shouted out the
name so familiar to them both, and the
train commenced slackening its pace,
but, under cover of the bustle of the
passengers for their baggage and oth¬
er possessions, he found opportunity to
press one little kiss on the unresisting
hand that lay so quietly in his own—
only one kiss ; bat something in its
warm earnest pre sure brought the
glad waves of color to May's face,
while he unwillingly released the hand,
and, gathering together her shawl and
other belongings with an air of pro¬
prietorship quite charming to see,
helped her from the train with the air
that a man assumes when he is hap¬
pier than he ever expected to be in
this world.
And so ended the first and last jour¬
ney that May Ernest ever took alone.
Is Anybody Well.
To find a man enjoying perfect
health is almost a rarity. Why, the
other day we resolved to make it a
point to inquire particularly after the
physical condition of our companions
ai ‘d below we detail the result. Sal¬
lying forth upon the street, we met
Jones, and accosted him:
‘How is your health, Jones?'
'Never better.'
‘Ah! but say, Jones, do you really
feel as you say—first-rate?’
‘Well, I can't say that I do. That
turkey on Christmas was a little too
much for me. I feel a twinge of dys
pepsy occasionally. Tnink if I could
leave off smoking I would feel better/
Passing on, we next met Smith
coming up the street, puffing and
blowing like a porpoise.
Why, what on earth is the matter?'
we inquired.
‘Why, bless your soul, didn't jou
know I had heart disease? I overlifted
myself once, and now I suppose I'll
have to sink into a premature grave ’
Passing on, we met Mr. Mason, a
genteel tradesman, whose head would
ache if a hair lay crosswise
‘Only moderate. My bronchitis is a
little troublesome, ami I fear it may
end in consumption. Excuse me, sir
I must hasten into a drier place.'
He moved on with the same solemn
tread as if lollowiDg a band on a fun
eral march.
The next person was Job Sowers, a
hard mechanic. Job ‘allowed he was
iu his usual health, but that mashed
foot gave him a deal ot trouble some
times.”
So we went on through the day,
and found but one man who said he
was really well, and we could see he
was blind of an eye.
If you desire to spend a profitable
day, ask your friends to tell you their
ills ot the flesh, and then you would
very properly conclude that you have
no more to bear than thousands of
others,
Quick Wit Wius.
Years ago, into a wholesale grocery
store in Boston walked a tall, muscu¬
lar-looking man, evidently a fresh
comer from some backwoods town in
Maine or New Hampshire. Accosting
the first person lie met, who happened
to be the merchant himself, he said ;
‘You don't want to hire a man in
your store, do you ?
‘Well, said the merchant, I do not
know ; what can you do ?
‘Do V said the man, ‘rather guess
I can turn my hand to almost anything
—what do you want done ?
'Well, if I was to hire a fellow it
would be one that could lift a well, a
st' ong, wiry fellow ; one, for instance,
that could shoulder a sack of coffee
like that yonder, and carry it across
the floor and never lay it down.
‘There, now, Capting,* said the man,
‘that's just me. I can lift anything I
hitch to ; you can‘t suit me better.—
What will you give a mail that will
suit you ?
T‘ 11 tell you, said the merchant,
you will shoulder that sack of coffee
aud carry it across the store twice and
never lay it down, I will hire you a
year at &i00 a month.
‘Done,’ said the stranger, and by
this time every clerk in the store had
gathered around and were waiting to
join in the laugh against the man, who
walking up to the sack, threw it across
his shoulder with perfect ease, al¬
though extremely heavy, and walking
witli it twice across the store, went to
a large hook which was fastened to the
wall, and hanging it up, turned to the
merchant and said :
'There, now, it may hang there till
doomsday ; I shall never lay it down,
^ ^at sba ^ I g° about, mister ? Just
S ive me ph'nty to do and one hundred
dollars a month and it‘s all right.
The clerks broke into a laugh, and
* ho merchant, discomfitted, yet satis¬
fied, kept his agreement; and to-day
the green countryman is the senior
partner of the firm, and is worth a
million dollars.— Utica Observer.
Poor And Proucl.
Young men out ofbusiness are some¬
times sadly hampered by pride. Many
young men who go West take more
pride than money—and bring back all
the pride and no money at all. A
young man that ‘works for his board'
no matter what honest work he does
has no leason for shame. A young
man who cuts the bread of idleness, no
matter how much money lie has, is
disgraced. All young men starting in
life ought to aim—first of all—to find
a place where they can eTirn their
bread and butter, with hoe, ax, spade,
wheelborrow, curry-comb, blacking
brush no matter how. Independence
first. The bread-and-butter question
settled, let the young man perform his
duty so faithful as to attract, and let
him constantly keep bis eyes open for
a chance to do better. About half the
pool, proud young men, and two
thirds the poor discouraged young
men, are always out of work. The
young man who pockets his pride,
and carries an upper lip as stiff as a
cast-iron doorstep-scraper, need not
starve, and stands a good chance to
become rich.
The Fashions.
Fashions sometimes originate in a
very strange way. For instance: A
certain mercantile house once impor¬
ted, through a blunder, a large amount
of a very ugly material which would
not sell and lay dead^upon their hands.
Something had to be done. The pro
prietors of one or two fashion papers
were interviewed. The next week
their columns told thousands of eager
readers that there had recently been
shown a new* and stylish fabric which
promised to be very fashionable; and
the statement was widely copied by
the daily press. Retail dealers found
their customers inquiring for it, and
nought it, of the jobbers in turn sought
it of the importers, wbo quickly un*
loaded iheir whole stock at a hand¬
some profit. 1 he goods were voted
‘beautiful' :«nd ‘stylish/ and the fabric
in question was ‘the rage’ for a time.
Undoubtedly the fashion papers were
well paid for their trouble.
'John, did you go round and ask
, lOW oiJ Mrs Jone8 u this morning as
I t„lj you to do last night V ‘Yes sir*
‘Well‘what’s the result V ‘She said
that seeing you had the impudence to
send to ask how old she was, she had
uo objections to telling you she was
twenty-four/
NO. 30.
WIT AMD HUMOR.
A y ird of pork—Three pig's feet.
Needs looking into—A telescope.
Did a donkey ever die of softening
of the braving ?
“Jumping down a rope*' is what they
call hanging in Nevada.
Don't get in debt with a shoemaker
if you would call your solo your own. J
Can't the Ethiopian change his kin
by marrying into a strange family ?
Bees are said to bo a preventive of
small-pox, being a sort of waxy ne,
tion.
‘And what makes my little Johnny
so cross this morning ?‘ ‘Dot up
s'urly/
When you wake up ’at night and
hear the baby crying, look out for
danger, for there is a rock ahead..
A man who still carries iu his body
a bullet which entered it at Antietam,
calls it lead astray.
It is lucky to pick up a horse shoe if
it happens not to be attached to mule’s
hind leg.
Farmer J ones caught a rooster steal¬
ing his corn, wrung his neck, and now
claims to have killed cock robbin*.
The beauty of a man's parting his
hair in the middle appears to be that it
gives both ears an equal chance to flap.
A Boston journal mentions the fact
that there are minute bugs in brown
sugar ; but we have none in hourt.
‘Should a man drink malt liquors?’
queries a medical exchange. Well, if
a man has a wife it is his duty to sup¬
porter.
IIow soon popular songs become
old. Even now “My Grandfather’s
Clock*' may be classed among the old
time pieces.
There are many things in this world
that are as deceiving as a fish-hook
with a worm on it ; you don't feel the
point till you bite.
Knowledge is the right bower, and
one of the showiest cards in the pack,
yet in the game of life cheek is the lit¬
tle joker that is oftentimes the winner,
A man asked admission into a show
for half-price, as he had but one eye.
But the manager told him it would take
him twice as long to see the show as
it would anybody else, and charged
him double.
If you want to get a square, two
story old-fashioned lie, ask the map
you fee sneaking home across lots with
u fishing-pole and lunch basket, how
many he caught.
Talk about the rnissmg link as much
as you will, but the world at large
will ksep an eye on the young man
who makes his first appearance iu so.,
ciety in a claw-hammer coat.
The boy that walks lame arouud the
streets now and looks pale and dejeo
ted, is the same gay and blithesome
child of joy who but yesterday played
base ball for five hours iu the scorch*
ing suu.
Dynasties may go up the spout, and
principalities smash, but the man who
knows just exactly how to run a newsr
paper will continue to occupy the top
of a corner grocery whisky barrel and
#!eal out advice to publisners.
A boy who went in swimmiug the
other day reported the water tolerably
warm, but not so warm as the polish*
ed surface of a strip of weather-board**
ing bis mother picked up in the wood^
shed soon after his return home with
his hair wet.
During an election a candidate called
upon a tradesman aud solicited his
vote. H would rather vole for the
devil thau you,’ was the reply. ‘But/
said the candidate,‘in case your friend
should not run, might I then couut on
your assistance