Newspaper Page Text
yOlUME l ' <•
» 0 iilllf,
TO MY OLD COAT.
BV GEOROE A. BAKER.
for some three or four seasons
, v ?e ban jolly comrades, but now
^ part, old companion, forever ;
To fate and the fashion 1 bow.
ton’d look well enough at a dinner,
I'd wear jou with pride at a ball,
[0i dressing to-night for a wedding—
jjy own, and you d not do at all.
ijiiVc too many wine stains about you,
I jon’re scented too much with cigars ;
Kteu the gaslight shines full on the collar
It glitters with luiriad stars ,
Hat wouldn't look well at my wedding—
They’d seem inappropriate there ;
j’eil doesn't use diamond powder,
bhe tolls rue it ruins the hair.
You've been out on Cozzen’s piazza
Too late, when the evenings were clamp,
When the moonbeams were shivering dimly
And the lights w re all out in loo camp.
You have rested on highly oiled stairways
Too often, when sweet eyes were bright,
Had som. body’s bftll-diess—not Nellie's —
Flowed round you in rivers of white.
Tbere-’n n reprobate looseness about you ;
Should 1 wear you to-night, I believe,
11 came with my bride from the altar,
You’d laugh in your wicked old sleeve,
I When you felt there the tremulous pressure
oi her hand in its delicate glove,
is tilling me si 13 ly, but proudly,
I ]jcr (rust is as deep as her love.
■ v,s,(»o to your grave in the wardrobe,
I And furnish a feast for the moth,
■ Sufi's glove shall betray its .sweet secrets
I For younger, more innocent cloth.
9 Tl- time to pu on your successor—
m Its made in u fashion that's new ;
H Old coat. I'm nfruid it wdl iiaver
3 get as easily on me as you.
Weddfug Anniversaries.
uTun has established the custom
bate years of celebrating certain au¬
niversaries of tho marriage, these be¬
ing named as follows: The ce’ebia
tion auk expiration of tho first year
i is calW lie cut Lon wedding; at two
yaw comes the paper; the third year
ieleather, at the close of five years
i'mw(lie wooden; at the seventh an*
Liversary, the friends assemble at tho
p'Ofileii; and at ten comes the tin. At
'.wive years the siik and fine linen; at
I liefn the crystal wedding. At twen
Ithe ft* ends gather with their china,
I id at twenty-five the couple that
Life been true to their vows for a
quarter of a century are rewarded with
> w gifts. From this time forward
to tokens bf esteem become rapidly
sore valuable. When the thirtieth is
ttniversary is reached they are pres
ffited with pearls; at the fortieth co mes
to rabies; at tho fiftieth occurs the
Nous golden wedding. Beyond that
tiocthe age 1 couple are allowed to en
jy their many gifts in place. If how
<rer > by any possibility, they
to seventy-fifth anniversary, they are
dented with the rarest gifts to be
! ^ned at the celebration of their,
4R10n ‘i wedding. In issuing the in*
stations for celebrating these anniver
W:€S ' *tcustomary to print them
material emblematic of the occasion
toe, thi n wood leather, tin foil, silk
1 r an 1 gold paper, and other ma*
■ tfiOse are brought into use Of course
who accept such invitations, and
■“/too hoste ot the hospitality of the host
to the ss > ore expected to contrib
v»> collection of gifts that will
S ra oe the occasion.
^ ' 1 irst Baby in California.
^ was on the Fourth of July, and
wnieviile celebrated. The stars and
nnp.j8 floated fr ^ . ^ T afH
^ and the ;l ’ ;:r S If 1
use *
w ig cmu-Lt •
•tor nrt s . ami the recently or-/ ™
» band was dvino i„
,:5 °nince & a
801110 national anthem,
J' * We 1 ’ wail Bu ^'Jenly, there hurst out the
of an infant- strenZh
"“■kfout in all (he defiant
’ Hs baby lungs Tho band forth
’'Nest strains'; put
> the babv inc tod fo
11 exertion redoubled its vigor
** nip and „„■!< between the '
"d aiM the I* 1 Tl
" ,id her ’t/u vl 1° /r Un C ?’,T l tn 1 ‘i
‘* 5! » him wht«n f il y
KU1 10 aU( R * nC f
.. • re tip-vose i) ‘,
Un a . A ‘h
‘ £ bis fiat
^ hanVkml o
^ ‘Hush that blame 1
Ve the baby plavit channel' The band
topped a
its and rover did
nL ‘
art men exih.v'r- list r V t ' 1US1C •
a " tto.R 0 hmbT 0 ^ ',
ifln > a Uhe drank
bill cki*d V 0, T °*
^yan * t. ,er ® ^ eic t( ‘ ais
^^laotheJl evo T 0 ,' c,l,ld wu8 bu ^ <1
tord s hi east, f and 1 at the
tiler e went up three rousing
^h'H|b r " le first baby of the North-
J in s r
;," 4 /i a LSS ■<’ m 1 TH 0 t!
/
ADELE’S LUCK.
BY BELT TJ MONTICEI.LO.
[From the Chicago Ledger.]
It was winter cold and cheerless to
some, with its gloomy days and dreary
aspect; cheery and pleasant to others,
who gazed with delight at the piles of
drifting snow, feathery in its softness,
and thought of the merry sleigh-rides
in prospective.
Adele L’Estrange walked median"
ically toward the miserable attic which
served her for a shelter. Cold and
cheerless seemed the prospect to her,
as she thought of her empty purse and
the unpaid rent which had been due
some time, which caused her landlady
to cast upon her frequent looks of dis¬
satisfaction.
‘If the weather was only warmer I
could manage to worry through, but I
cannot afford to keep a fire—that lux¬
ury is too expensive—and I can't work
nights without one such weather as
this. Oh, if I could only obtain bet"
ter wages!'
Just then a lady, richly dressed,
wrapped in a heavy cloak and costly
fms, came out of a store and entered a
sleigh in waiting. Adele stood watch¬
ing the happy face as she was enscons
ing herself amid the luxurious robes,
after which she was rapidly whirled
away. She gazed after the retreating
sleigh a moment, then slowly resumed
her way. She had scarcely taken a
dozen steps when her foot came in
contact with an obstacle. Glancing
down, she beheld a lady’s porte-mon
naie, of exquisite workmanship. See¬
ing she was not observed, she stooped
and picked it up. Divining that it
must have been dropped by the lady
as she was entering the sleigh, she
turned to look after bur, but the sleigh
had disappeared.
Hastily thrashing the purse into her
bosom, she hastened on. ‘It is mine/
she repeated again and again; ‘I found
it; she will never feel the loss of it,
and oh! how much it would be to me.
Surely it must contain a considerable
sum. 1 will keep it; no one will be
the wiser.'
On reaching her room, she eagerly
examined its contents. ‘Five, ten,
twenty, one hundred. Yes, an entire
hundred, ad mine. Can it be possible?
Oh, what comforts this will procure 1’
Then her face suddenly clouded.
‘It is not mine. Is it possible that
I would succumb to temptation?
lleayen aid me in resisting.' Pushing
the money aside and sinking on her
knees, after a brief struggle she ar<w\
T must find the owner soon, or I fear
I will, not have the courage to with¬
stand ihe temptation.'
Searching more thoroughly, she
found a card containing the name and
address of Elsie Leigh. ‘She must be
the owner. I will take it to her ini"
mediately. It is a long walk, but I
will not suffer more with the cold than
were I to remain in this chilly room,
and it will serve to make me forget my
hunger,’ and, drawing the thin shawl
more closely about her shivering form,
she sallied forth. It was a long, tire
some walk, but at last she ascended
the steps, and rang the bell. A stout,
pompous fo itman opened the door.
£ I wish to'sec Miss Elsie Leigh.’
‘She is not in/he replied, preparing
to close the door.
‘My business is important, I will
wait Do you know when she will res
-
^
Can't, say. Hadn't you better call
‘John, ^> admit rim Wi,h young *°T lady ,mmc ane0r -
dUlt, ' ly - I will see her m a few mo.
meats/ called a gentleman's voice, m
stern, but not unmusical, tones.
P™ lon ' 1 will,’ ushering her
into an elegant fun,shod drawing
roora *
^ blazmg coal fire imparted a glow
«g warmth to the room. Chilled and
benumbed, she sank info a chair. Al
m08t instantly the room seemed to
swim before her. Her eyes closed,
and she became unconscious. It was
thus Herbert L°igh •found her on en
tcring the roora, a few moments
‘John, bring some brandy, quick;
the young lady has feinted!’ John has
te,md to obey. Pouring some into a
Mass be with difficulty forced the pale
fins loart, and succeeded in proceeded ad minis"
teriim a few drops; then he
to ' chafe her hands.
presently she revived, and, seeing
a gtrange face bending oVer her, be
■
ca ^ e ^ust .reatly embarrassed.
l sir 1 have not caused you
* trouble/ lifting
unnecessary a
any
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 1S79.
of large, dreamy blue eyes to meet his
gaze.
‘No trouble* at all / he replied, ‘I
feared you would never recover from
your death-like swoon. You are bet"
ter now?'
‘Thank you I am feeling perfectly
well, now, only a little faint yet!'
thinking of how she had not tasted a
morsel of food for almost twenty-four
hours.
Janet/ he said, summoning one ot
the servants, ‘prepare a Iuuch imme¬
diately, and have it served here. It
will do you good/ he added f turning
toiler. ‘It will he some time ere my
sister returns. Is the nature of the
business such that I could transact it?'
drawing forth his pocket-book, for he
had conjectured that site might be a
seamstress with whom his sister had
neglected to settle.
‘I was not going to ask alms/ she
replied quickly, mistaking his mean"
ing. ‘I found a porte-rnonnaie con"
taining a considerable sum of money
to"day; it also contained a card bears
ing the name and address of Miss
Elsie Leigh. Supposing it to belong
to her, I came immediately to restore
it.'
‘You are an honest young lady.
How much money did it contain?'
‘One hundred dollars; not a cent
more. I never kept a penny of it '
‘I do not doubt your word; but why
did you not keep all? Such a sum as
that is not to be despised these hard
times/’
‘Oh, sir, if you knew ah, you would
not much blame me if I had. I was
almost tempted. It' was more tc me
than yon can imagine;' and, bursting
into tears, she told him her pitiful
story. ‘Not a morsel of food have I
tas’ed since last night/ she said in
conclusion, ‘and hungry and poor as
I was you can form some idea of the
temptation 1 had to resist.’
A tempting lunch now appeared,
and, as lie indeed how rapidly it dis¬
appeared, a tear glistened in his dark
eye. After she had finished, he bade
her lie down on the sofa and rest until
his sister’s return.
Tired from her long walk, made
comfortable by grateful warmth of the
room and substantial lunch, of which
she had just partaken, she soon fell
asleep. She was aroused at length
by voices in the room.
‘See; she is sleeping, poor thing! I
am sure, Elsie, she is a perfect lady;
those little bands have been unused to
toil; she has evidently seen belter
days/ Ilcibert was saying.
‘Yon are right, Herbert,’ replied
Elsie, ‘and wc must do all we can for
her. How nice it would be if she
* could teach French. I could receive
her as a companion in place of old,
fussy Madame Maury. T should judge
from her appearance that she is high¬
ly educated. She is quite pretty—or
would be if Her features ’were not so
thin—I think, Herbert, 'fton't you?
She has a pair of beautiful eyes, I no¬
ticed.' Elsie came and bent over her,
gently smoothing the waving bands
of golden hair from the high, pale
brow. The touch aroused her, and
opening her eyes she beheld the same
lady she had seen enter tlie sleigh. ‘I
am glad you are awake. I hope you
feel vested,' she said in a kindly tone.
‘I am unite " rested k> ’ I ci assure ' jv4 } you ’
-
■My brother, here, has told me the
object of your visit, and I feel that I
am greatly indebted to you for your
kindness in restoring my lost property,
more from the reason that the porte
monnaie was tho gift of my mother,
1uds sinoc and 1 wou,d not hiTe
taken for it double the sum it contain
Cdi andIam <“^r h0 \ m 'r
predation of your kindness. Herbert
and f have been forming plans to keep
you with us. He is certain you would
suit me as a companion, and I said, il
y0B only understood French, I was
sure my opinion would not differ.’
'My father was a thoroughly edn
catod French gentleman, and so far
as lay m Ins power ransm.tted Ins
learning to me, and I th.uk I am fully
competent to teach the language/
Then it is agreed that you shall re
main with us. I shall dispatch a ser"
vant immediately for your things;
your landlady can pack them, and thus
render your return unnecessary. You
will receive #400 annually, in quarter
ly installments. I shall a’so beg you
to accept from me the money you de"
sired to return. Nay, if you refuse I
shall take offense. Your clothing is
for such weather; I
get one of my heavy wraps for you:
and, as it is not late we will have time
to do some shopping.’ And in less
than an hour she was being whirled
over the snowy ground, in the sleigh
beside the 3 r oung lady, whom a short
time before she had almost uncon¬
sciously envied.
The months passed swiftly by, and
Adele lias been in her new home a
year. During this time she has learn¬
ed to love Elsie’s brother, Herbert
Leigh. Ilow eagerly she watches for
his coming, or listens for the sound of
his voice. Vainly she strove to ban¬
ish his image from her thoughts.
What was she, Adcle L’Estrange, the
poor Governess, to this wealthy man
of fashion? True, he had a great and
noble heart, but it was not her luck to
win it
Tie would despise me if he know I
harbored such a thought,' she would
say; then, crushing back her rising
thoughts, she would meet him with
studied indifference.
One day he had said to her : ‘‘Miss
L’Estrange, you are an iceberg; you
fairly chill the atmosphere in the whole
room. I should think your sunny dis¬
position would serve, in a measure, to
thaw the icy reserve with which you
seem to clothe yourself/ to which she
made some indifferent reply and left
the room.
One evening^ when he was seated
near her, Elsie, who was present, re¬
marked that it was high time he was
thinking ot selecting a wife.
Instantly Adele's face paled to mar¬
ble whiteness, and, arising hastily, she
walked to the window in order to hide
her agitation The thought had never
occurred to her that she might lose
him. She was content to have him
near, although she never dared hop > to
win him.
‘Can I giyehitn up? she asked her
self.
Herbert, who had been narrowly ob
serving her, beheld what he had so ar¬
dently longed for—some slight token
to assure him that his love was recip*
rocatod, for he, too, had received a
shaft from Cupiu’s bow. Iiis sister’s
little governess was to him clearer than
any of the society belles, for lie had
long studied her sweetness and purity
of character, but her total indifference
had kept him from declaring his at¬
tachment, but now he saw t ! rough the
icy reserve, and, deliberately walking
over to the window where she stood >
he said : ‘I have been thinking so my¬
self, Elsie, and, if Adele, here, will
have me, I shall yield my freedom
with pleasure.’ ‘Adele/ he whispered,
‘what is your answer?' Almost in¬
audible was the answer given, but he
was satisfied with it, as, turning to
Elsie, he said, ‘Your suggestion was
very good; it has been acted on imme¬
diately. I present you to the future
Mrs. Herbert Leigh.'
Setting The Table.
An untidy, frowsy girl cannot set
a dinner table properly, unless she has
received careful training. The house¬
hold mistress should attend to this du¬
ty herself. Country housekeepers,
also! while too solicious of the substan
e, often completely ignore the syra
bob In most cases their cloths are
clean; usually in some districts that is
all. They are often wrinkled, frequent
ly there are no napkins, the glass is
dL„ S y, the knives onpollshed, the food
arrayed more as regards quant,tj than
J l>Poatanse, and, altogether, to sit at
such a bo.ud long would effectually
check any attempt to rise above the
gross materiality of the subject. There
is scarcely a woman who in her secret
heart would not desire better. But
the thought of a set of hungry impat
j e nt, dusty, ^ sweaty ^e. farm-bands ^ hangs
•*»» a v* i
advise her to try the experiment and
9C0h0 ' V “- -‘h
every difficulty which can beset the
mistress of a farm-house. Yet think
what cause you have to hope. Your
men and boys all go to the pump and
splash themselves plentifully with wa.
ter as thought by instinct, If, they
knew that yon sincerely desired it
they would soon form the habit of tak
mg just a m'nute or two more to ar.
range then- toilets. It is pretty safe t,
say that if the table invariably presen
ted an exquisite appearance for two
weeks, they would be.sorry to see a
re i apa the third. With patience, yo*
might complete your good work.—
Chicago Ledger.
A parrot ~7 has died 7 of f a 7" broken v heart *
m the village of Ba.lston, Spa., N. \ .
It bad. been in the family of a good
man for a quarter ol a center y, and
never bad been known to swear,
About a fortnight ago the head of the
household went t > .Minnesota. The
parrot would not be comforted. It
ate nothing. It did nothing but moan
and screech, ‘Where is Joe V (
Sentimet ami Sense.
What makes life dreary Is the want
ot motive.
The reward of one duty is the pow¬
er to fulfill another.
Better be upright with poverty than
wicked with plenty.
The wounded heart heals, but the
scar remains forever.
The smallest perfect achievement is
nobler than the grandest failure.
The veil which eovers the face of fu¬
turity is woven by the hand of mercy.
It is said with life as with eoffeo he
who drinks it pure must not drain it
to the dregs.
If misfortune hits you hard you hit
something else hard; go into semething
with a will.
Bind love with duty for duty is the
love of law; and law is the nature of
the Eternal.
Whether happiness may come or
not one should try and prepare one's
self to do without it.
The pain of parting is keenest to
those who go but it stays longer with
those who are left behind.
Have nothing to do with any man in
a passion for men are not like iron to
be wrought out when hot er molded
into any given form.
There is a great deal of unmapped
country within us which would have to
be taken info account in an explana¬
tion of our gusts and storms.
If thou canst not obtain a kindness
which thou desireth put a good face
on it shows no discontent nor surliness
an hour may come when thy request
may readily be granted*
Probabilities are as various as the
faces to be seen at will in fretwork or
paper hangings; every form is there¬
from Jnpitor to Judy, if you only look
with creative inclunatiou.
It is eas^ ‘We will forget,’ but per¬
haps the hardest task given us is to
lock up a natural yearning of the heart
and turn a deaf ear to the pi int for
captive aud jailer must iuhabit the
same small cell.
In the struggle of life the hero and
the coward, the conqueror and con
queror need sympathy equally. Often
the mind which upholds others needs
itself to be upheld; the honest heart
that seems so strong and true is fairi"
ting from secret sorrow, dying from
some little wound which sympathy
could stanch.
Churches arc the best forms of so
oial moral culture—caravans that cross
the hot anu weary sands of life—and,
while there may be wrangling at times
within them y<Jt after all the pilgrim
that undertakes alone is not a speck in
the wide desert, too often blowh away
and withering like the leaf before the
wind.
Irish Wit.
A country rector and Iiis lady were
one day riding in a gig in the town of
Sligo, and on the fly road observed a
small, ragged boy tending a goat
which he bald by a string. ‘Say, boy
whats your name ?'a«ked tho minister
'Patsy, year honor,’ answered the woe
fellow, with a bow. Veil, Patsy, can
you ted me how many gods there are?
said the divine with midge to his wife
'Don’t know that sir ’ answer the boy
making a second bow. ‘There's hut
one God my child C said .^ermffthose the ladv and
the gig drove on.
Catholics are ’ remarked the
‘Yes God help them ' replied his wife
ing the boy was in the same nlace
asked
Patsy. 'Yes, my little lad/ repliop the
rector, why do you ask?’ -I’d like to
know from you, how many chimneys
are there in Sligo?' do’l ‘Chimneys you
little rogue how know I never
counted them.’
‘i hen, sir, if you cant tell how manv
chimneys there are m Siig , where yo'n
bavo beeil> how couM j bow
Gods there are in heaven, where I nev‘
er WaS v,
’
-----»*«*--
“No man shall ever kiss me except
future husband/* she said as he
was ab ,ut leaving her af the gate.—
“Suppose I agree to be your future-’'
‘'Why, then I’ll kiss you/' she replied
eagerly, and she did. Her m >ther was
infornjed be had proposed, and the old
!adv caiied around next day to fasten
matters, and before he knew it he
eternally booked. It was a mean ad
vantage, but a bird in the hand js
W0r to two on the front gate.
• -♦♦♦
Misers as a class must have very
poor memories. '1 hey are for-gett ing.
Prompt Payments.
Few persons are at all aware of the
evil done to others, or the injury in¬
flicted on themselves, by* the single
neglect of punctuality as to the pay¬
ment of debts. There are many men
of business who would not have their
note in bank unpaid at maturity for
anything, or a debt of honor forgotten
and yet they will say to their poor
creditors, ‘Go, and come again/ time
upon time. Indeed, with many men,
the whole balance lying in their bail"
kers’ hands so ostentatiously to keep
up their credit, is made up of small
sums long over-due, hut out of which
the proper owners are kept by various
devices. With some it is mere care"
lessnesa, with others a settled princi
p| e> tfi a t ^ never safe or wise to pay
any sum of money so long as the pay¬
ment can, by any art or artifice, be
delayed They are not dishonest.
They mean to pay, but not till the last
practicable moment. Were it a debt
of honor, they would pay it directly ;
but a mechanic's account, or a store
account of a few dollars may be sent
for and sent for a dozen times, and
there is no sense of wrong or even ini"
policy in all this delay.
The Queen of England is notorious
for her prompt payment of Jail ao
counts. Not long since, on the mar¬
riage of her daughter, she employed
a distinguished artist, at the price of
about $200, to design the bridal veil
to be worn on the great occasion. A
piece of forgetfulness or a mistake, by
which that artist was left unpaid for a
short time, cost her her fife, caused
her death, in absolute want, in a gar
ivt. She was told to call again and
again and again. At last, nervous as
a lady of refined sensibilities would be,
hot and weary with a long walk, she
was taken sick with a fever, and died
before the money came, in absolute
want. In the time of George II.,
tradesmen's bills to the amount of hun¬
dreds of thousands of dollars were left
unpaid for years. The father of the
present Queen of England borrowed
money on the continent to take iiis
tvi'e to England, for Victoria to be
born within the kingdom of Great
Britain. That money was never re¬
paid until after the present Queen came
to the throne. In this country many
neglect their small accounts, to the
ruin of those who trust them.
Tears,
Wiiat a volume there is in that lit¬
tle word; what scenes does it bring
to our remembrance! Those of griefs
mourning for the 1 iss of friends, sad¬
ness on account of some Mistreatment
and fears of something terrible to
come. Then we think of the tears of
joy, pleasure, and of some unexpressi
ble gladness. How the sight of tears,
trickling down the cheek of some suf¬
ferer, strikes a chord of sympathy in
almost every breast. Few there are
that can behold such a sight and re¬
main unmoved. Hardened, indeed,
must be the wretch who can endure
such a sight without feeling one syni"
pathlzing vibration. Tears come as a
great reliief-—the overflowing of a
fountain which otherwise would burst,
carrying with it destruction. A poor
soul, all overburdened with cares or
j oys> finds relief by the pouring forth
nf 1, thi* rwct 7 il fY nnt
’
" n ^ wl *° aw not Luis ,
r \ >n 'C*' ‘ ****** there arethut
i
“^ n wit., tears,,some clLooks
V a & ° ^ * grlel W °} loD of ' those! ° bad Who ' r ,!1 "
^
zt “ . ,ng r f suc t a heart i
^ can imaging the workings ol
^ ‘ ^ “ “'' J -
ground stream with no visible outlet.
Such a person has none to share his !
woes, for who can tel! Iiis sorrows and S
joys? * He them
treasures up in his;
bosom and broods over them in soli-!
tude giving outward signs of the ;
# no j j
mighty troubles that are taking place
within.
... B1 « d . „ h< , ^ , ,
“ / S 7, are ’ se 0aTO ?»
and troubles, can water their souls i
with a gentle shower of tears. It is ;
t / u | n ' n r S I0W ' r a ^ ter a i
‘ ' ______ j
A poem entitled “ fo my Mule/' in
the Louisville Courier Journal, closes !
with these linos :
“So now, my mule, your matin nub*
bins munch,
Al ? d I ‘J 1 ^imyoat ta 1 the while you
» nd ^'0^ . T Irte , thwki ... tlut| .
th ® bn;u<< of the poetry at the
point where the writer begins to trim
mules tail is pro if tint he was
then a there kicked up 200 stops of the
Golden stair.
NO. 35.
WIT AJVD HUMOR.
The telescope maker has aneyc-tubo
business.
Gras gets its dew—about the only
thing in the world that does.
Is the knot in the porker's tail a pig
stye ?
A constable is the monarch of the
seize.
‘This can’t be beat/ as the man said
when he bought the porcelain ogg.Jj
You car. td a young man raising a
mustach as fuzz as you can see him.
One of the best known girls in Pitts*
burg is Al Uhany, but water mouth
she lias !
Taking medicine will make a well
man sick much quicker than it will
make a sick man well.
‘Oh/ she said, ‘I think soda water
is soda-Iicious.‘ He took the hint aud
sod 1 dime on the harvest field of love.
No sensible woman puts high-heel¬
ed shoes on her children.— Ex. No,
she uses a slipper.
It is a moan man who will stuff a
suit of clothes and anchor them in a
mill pond, just to tease a coroner.
Wivcs of all great men remind us,
we should pick out w ives with care ;
bo we may not leave behind us half
our natural crop of hair.
To, be a first-rate archer you must
have an arrow chest and bo bow-legs
ged. Aud even then your aim won't
be first-straight.
A great many men look at them¬
selves through the little end of the
world's opera glass, while the world
looks at them through the big end. .j
A Western paper says of the loss of
a ve ssel: ‘The Captain swam ashore,
so did the chambermaid ; so was in"
sured for $15,000, and loaded with
iron.
A witness on the stand, in reply to
a question as to what the character of
Mr.--was for truth and veracity,
said : “Well, I should say he handles
the truth very carelessly/'
‘‘Connectieut expects to profit by
the wars in South America/’ says tho
Detroit Free Press. Do tho South
Americans uso wooden untmegs for
ammunition 1
The man who slips on a banana peel
and arises and dusts the rear of his
trouseis without saying a word, is too
good for this sinful world. He can
double discouo church members.
A clergyu j won Ihe cano r * race at
Lake Georg the other day. The rest
of the clot! vill please observe that it
was practice, no preaching, that ena"
bled him to come off victor.
A woman hearing a great deal
about ‘‘preserving autumn leaves, J ‘ put
up some, but afterwards told a neigh"
bor they weie not fit to eat, and she
might as well have throwu her sugar
away.
lie was a distinguished buy . He had
exercised great caution and had finally
succeeded in crawling, unobserved,
under the canvass into the tent. And
he found it was not a circus, but a re*
1
vival in progress.
~ ~~
Col. ,, James T Bilbro, who
was recent"
ly hanged at Canton, said on the scaf¬
fold that he was going straight to
heaven. Ae old negro in the crowd
who evidently wanted to send a mes
sage, said to the condemned man, ‘Ef
you see aunt Polly Lott, dar te:l her
,
A man was standing on the corner
! h ° ° ! !i,T d * y \ g * zmg aro "'. ,d at noth *
par t ! Cular » Wh f a frie,,d Ste ^
ped up to him | and said :
1 ***, ^ ^vo a mournmg-band
00 J 1 iat have * ; u's far my mother-
4
mJaw/ _
T our mother-in-law?’
‘Yes, my inother"in-law/ replied
the m tn in nv turning.
GV hv, I di!a‘t know that she was
dead/
‘Well, she ai /t—she recovered.*