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MOMENTS.
Oh. them are moment# in man'* lortal
years.
When for an instant that which lone has
lain
Beyond our reach, is on a sudden found
In things of smallest compass, and we hold
llf unbounded *hut in one small minute's
space.
And worlds within the hollow of our hand:
A world of music in one word of love,
A world of love in one quick wordless look.
A world of thought in one translucent
phrase.
A world of memory in one mournful chord,
A world of sorrow in one little song.
Buch momenta are man's holiest; the divine
And flint-sown seeds of love's eternity.
A Grandfather For Sale.
“ir all Very well for you, Cabot, to
•jiiotc that trite remark about rank being
only the guinea's stamp. You know as
well as I do that the social guinea—here
in 80-ton.of all plac- mu-t be stamped
before it will go into circulation. Society
strongly resembles retail trade in this one
particular. Let me offer a lump of the
purest gold to any small dealer as pay
ment for the goods I have bought of him,
and he would at once -av he'd rather
have the dirtiest bank-note in town than
my unstamped metal: wouldn’t he?”
“Well,l suppose he would. If we were
in a more primitive state of existence the
yellow metal, as jt came from mother
earth, would satisfy our greed. Now it
has to he vouched for as gold before it
can take its proper position among the
other circulating mediums.”
Lxaetly so! And as we are not in a
primitive state, hut a very 'highly cul
tured one, I, for example, need to have
a stamp before 1 can pass muster. All
the wealth my Midas of a father left to
me will not take me more than just so
far; yet I dress according to the laws of
to-day, 1 don't eat with my knife,l know
how to raise mv hut to a lady; in short, I
flatter myself that 1 makea fairly good ap
pearance. But 1 have no grandfather
worth speaking of!” And though there
was mock pathos in his tone, Maxwell
Jennings meant more of what he said
than he would have been willing his com
panion should suspect.
Edgar Cabot glanced at him a little
contemptuously; then he allowed his
eyes to wander enviously around the
luxurious appointments of Maxwell’s
rooms. Everything bespoke an abund
ance of both money and taste on the
part of the one who resided there. A
casual observer would never have sup
posed that a man who could appreciate
the engravings and hooks which crowded
the walls and tables was a mushroom of
an hour, the son of a man who had
amassed a large fortune by the manufac
ture of rum and judicious speculations in
stocks and mines. The moment that Tom
Jennings’s business and all other posses
sions fell into his son’s hands, that young
man sold the obnoxious distilleries and
went abroad for three years to tinisli the
studies his father had sent him there to
begin. Old Tom Jennings had the sense
to know that he could never aspire to
any higher position in life than the one
be was born Into; but ho was determined
to “make Max a gentleman,” and so far
as cultivation and study could do it, he
succeeded.
“By Jupiter, Jennings, if I had a tithe
of your money 1 wouldn't rare a pica
yune if I hadn't a grandfather!” sighed
Cabot, w hose hank account was as short,
as his pedigree was long.
“And 1, Cabot, would give a hundred
thousand dollars this minute if 1 had one
of your dignified ancestors,” Jennings
answered, earnestly. “Yes, I’d give it
gladly if I in any way could claim a
great uncle or grandfather of note!”
“A fellow has a perfect right to sell
what is indubitably his own, hasn't lie?”
asked Cabot, thoughtfully.
“CM course he has.”
“ I. as everyone knows, am the hist of
my line of the Cabots. 1 am badly in
want of money; you think vonrself—or,
to he more exact. Or. and Mrs. Randall
think you badly in want of ancestors.
What will you give me for, say old
Colonel Cabot? The one, you know, who
was killed in King Philip's war.”
“What an absurd idea!” exclaimed
Jennings, with a laugh.
“ Not at all absurd. The old codger
is now mg great uncle; if I sell him to
you, why, of course, he'll be your's. Or,
if you don’t like him, there's my grand
father, Judge Cabot—liow will he till
your hill? Now, Jennings, don’t look so
amused. 1 assure you /am in dead earn
est. lam so hard up I'd sell my soul
much more such a trifle as a grandfather
—for a hundred thousand dollars.”
Jennings knew that Cabot spoke the
truth about his financial condition, and.
being a good-natured fellow, who was
grateful to Cabot for several introduc
tions which he valued very highly, es
pecially the one to the aforementioned
Randalls, determined to help Cabot out
of his pecuniory quagmire by humoring
him in his ridiculous proposition.
“ 1 declare, Cabot, if the thing were
feasible I'd accept your offer with im
mense gratitude. But suppose I should
tell anyone that Judge Cabot belonged to
me, who would believe me?"
“If you were to buy him of me you'd
give me a receipt for him. I suppose?
Just as I would give you a receipt for the
money you paid me for him.
“Certainly I should,” answered Jen
nings, laughing at the idea of giving a
receipt for an ancestor.
“Then you could truthfully say that
you had documentary evidence that
Judge Cabot was an ancestor of your own.
and that would settle it, as I would be
careful to say so, too, for people rarely
insist upon one's proving that So-and-so
is his 'kin'; and if anybody was still du
bious you could be justly indignant be
cause your word was doubted.”
“I think if I buy one of them I would
like to have the other to keep him com
pany; he might feel lonesome so entirely
out of his element. What will you take
for the two?’* asked Jennings, seriously.
Cabot looked fixedly at him for an in
-tant; then, seeing that be was in earnest,
answered:
“Oh. I'll not bargain with you in this
trade. I'll be grateful if you will give
me a hundred thousand for the two of ’em
—the old Colonel and the Judge."
“Are you sure that will satisfy you?
Suppose I say a hundred and twenty-five
for the two?” ,
“ 1 hat will suit me still better, of
course,” said Cabot aloud. To himself he
added: *'l he fellow is a bigger muff than
I thought. However, he is a good fellow,
and I will help him swear that they are
his kinsmen, just to see how many gulli
ble fools there are in the world.”
“How will you have the money? In
bonds or real estate?" asked Jennings,
“or a happy combination of both?”
“If you are really in earnest. I would
prefer a little of both.”
“Meet me at the Suffolk Bank to-mor
row. at ten, and 1 will turn the ‘tin’ over
to you. It is an hour that will suit vou.
1 suppose, as you are a man of leisure,'”
The hour and the whole tenor of the
proposition suited Cabot to a nicety; so
THE MONROE ADVERTISER: FORSYTH. GA.; TUESDAY. APRIL 12, 1887. — EIGHT PAGES.
the next day the transfer was made. Jen
nings receiving, in lieu of a given sum of
money, a receipt for “all right and title
to the possession of the late Colonel Henry
Cabot and the late Judge Frederic Cabot,
formerly the possession of Edgar Cabot,
and to all honors, rank, glory, etc., which
may accrue from the ownership of the
same.”
A few days later Cabot proposed the
name of Maxwell as a member of the very
exclusive West End club to which be be
longed. At this proposition there was
some demur, and Cabot quietly said to
one of the objectors:
“I know what you fellows are thinking
of. You fancy that Max has nothing but
his money to back him for admittance
here, but you are mistaken. I happen to
know—know, mind you—that lie can
claim lawful ownership in his excellency,
the late Judge Cabot. He has papers in
his possession which prove it.”
“Are you sure?" was the amazed in
quiry.
“I am. 1 have ‘•een the documents to
which I refer."
“It must have been on his mother's
side if there was such relationship.”
“Did you never hear of my aunt,
Letitia, who disappeared so mysteriously ?”
“I thought she committed suicide.”
“Some of us Cabots are such lunatics
that we think suicide preferable to a
mesalliance.’' replied Cabot, significantly.
So the story went around that Max
Jennings had just discovered that he was
a defendant of the old Cabot family, and
when his name was proposed for election
there was not a single black hall against
him. He was accordingly notified that
he was duly elected a member of the
Miles Standish Club.
As soon as Jennings received this
notification he hastened to the Reception
Committee of said club, and explained
the whole matter to them. Whereat,
pleased with his frankness, and highly
amused at the absurdity of the transac
tion, the club, at its next meeting, unan
imously elected him a member “on his
own merits, and not those of his sup
posititious ancestors;” and also, equally
unanimously, dropped from its roll the
name of Edgar Cabot, “A man who
could sell his grandfather not being
worthy of the noble name of a Miles
Standish Brother,” was the verdict.
I)r. Randall, in common with most of
the sons of the first settlers, was a mem
ber of this same club, so he naturally
told his wife about the transaction be
tween Cabot and Jennings. She an
swered :
“I am sure it evinces a very proper
feeling on Mr. Jennings’ part to want a
grandfather; but surely he must have
known that such a sale was impossible.
What better off is lie for the nominal
ownership of Judge Cabot? Does it give
him any of the Cabot virtues?”
“Has the actual ownership of such a
grandfather given Edgar Cabot any of
those virtues? Do you think the Judge
has much to be proud of in such an'heir?”
asked her husband.
“You know, my dear, I never had any
love for Edgar Cabot, and I have still
less for him now. Do you suppose that
Mr. Jennings had any idea that this pur
chase would enhance his value in our
eyes? He has certainly been very atten
tive to Olive lately', and I have feared
that she liked him too well.”
“That will never do!” exclaimed the
doctor, emphatically. “I cannot have
one of my girls marry the son of that
old Tom Jennings, a most disreputable
old creature who possessed but one virtue,
that of generosity, so far as I can hear.
No, no; that must not he! I have noth
ing against Max Jennings himself, but
‘blood will tell,’ you know.”
“As it has done in the case of Edgar
Cabot,” said Mrs. Randall, dryly. She
liked Max, and she more than suspected
that Olive returned the love which Max
so evidently felt for her, and she did
wish that there could he some way de
vised hv which he could be transformed
into a suitable husband for her. And
then his wealth, too! Poor Olive had
not all the pretty things which girls of
her age ought to have, the mother felt.
“There are exceptions to all rules,” said
the doctor, concisely, “and Edgar Cabot
is the exception to this one.”
“May not Max Jennings be also an
exception?” suggested Mrs. Randall, but
her husband made no reply, only became
suddenly very much interested in the
evening paper.
A little later, in all about two months
after the purchase of his ancestor, Jen
nings called on Dr. Randall’s family one
evening, and Olive’s younger sister, an
irrepressible girl of thirteen, named Pau
line. said to him, somewhat abruptly:
“Oh. Mr. Jennings, is it true that you
have bought Mr. Cabot’s grandfather?”
“It is true that Judge Cabot-now be
longs to me—that he is my grandfather,”
was Max's answer.
“Since Pauline has broached the sub
ject. Mr. .Jennings,” said Mrs. Randall,
“I must own that I am a little curious to
know what gave rise to this remarkable
story which is going around about you
and Edgar Cabot.”
“Oh, it is very simple. Cabot was
bard up, and I traded off a few dollars
for an ancestor or two,” replied Max,
lightly.
“Do you really mean to claim those
dead Cabots for your own?” asked Dr.
Randall, a little testily.
“Ido. Why not?” was Max’s query.
“Is not what you pay for your own?"
Dr. Randall could neither say yes nor
no. While he was hesitating for a suit
able answer which should cover the whole
ground and yet not hurt Max's feelings,
Max continued:
“You know, sir, that you value descent
above money. Let us suppose a case: If
a man had a daughter, and two men
were to present themselves as suitors, the
one with a good name but a poor purse,
the other in exactly the reverse condi
tion, to which would you advise her to
give an affirmative answer?"
Dr. Randall appreciated the full mean
ing of this question, which was even
harder than the previous one to be an
swered. He could not collect his thoughts
as quickly as his older daughter did.
however. Before her father could frame
a reply. Olive said, determinedly:
“I think it would be well to let the
girl have some voice in such a matter. I
think that the characters of the two men
ought to be taken into consideration. I
don’t believe any girl would want a man
who could sell his grandfather. She'd
be more apt to see worthy qualities in
the one who didn't Consider money the
only thing w orth having."
There was no mistaking the -igiufi
caue > of Olive's tones, or of her flushed
face. Dr. Randall loved his children, so.
saying to himself: “Max is at heart a
gentleman, in spite of his extraction;
perhaps there was good blood on his
mother’s side." he pretended to makea
jfst of the whole matter, and answered:
"Ah, Max. you see what a minority I
am in! My wife always agrees with
Olive, and even Pauline echoes her, so I
dare not dispute a word >he says."
Max looked pleased, and Mrs. Randall
jrositively beamed on her husband. But
fancy the feelings of all when Max
-s.id:
“The most singular part of the whole
affair is this: One of my—of old Tom
Jennings's friends heard of this bargain
between Cabot and me. and put me in the
way of proving that Tom Jennings
adopted me in my earliest infancy out of
an orphan asylum, where I dad been placed
by mother ju-u before her death. Sh*:
was in consumption, and as her last few
hours drew near she made a confidant of
Tom Jennings's wife, and told her that
she had been deceived by a false marriage
between herself and the father of this
Edgar Cabot. As the years parsed, and
Torn found that the Cabots were not. as
a rule, dissolute men, he thought lie
would investigate the so-called false mar
riage. He did so. and found that it was
a genuine one; that my father. Edgar
Cabot, Sr., had had no intention of de
ceiving my mother, hut having died sud
denly before my birth, had kept the mar
riage secret only for fear of his father's
wrath, for my mother was a plain farm
er's daughter, poor but honest, as the
phrase is. Old Tom had become fond
of me, and knowing that the Cabots had
nothing to bequeath me except the name,
he legally adopted me as his son. So.
you see, I purchased my ancestors of my
older half-brother, Edgar Cabot. I came
here to-night, Dr. Randall, to tell you
this story: To-morrow—”
“Max, was your mother’s name
Rachel?” Dr. Randall asked, abruptly.
“Yes; Rachel Dennison, of Weston
Mills.”
“I was present at your birth, hoy, and
your mother told me this story. I inves
tigated it for her sake, and found it true,
your father having been a widower be
fore he met your mother. When I next
saw her she was dead and the baby had
vanished, so the whole thing went out of
my mind until this moment.” Here the
doctor had to pause to rub his specta
cles, and Pauline took advantage of the
brief silence to say:
“Now that you’ve got a grandfather of
your own, 1 suppose you and Olive will
be getting married, and then you’ll be
my brother Max, will you not?” — Fran
ces E. WadleigA, in the Current.
Bird Surgery.
Dr. Walter F. Morgan, of Leaven
worth, Kansas, sends to the Medical
Record this curious account of what may
be called avarian surgery, related to him
by the late Joseph O’Brien, of Cleveland,
Ohio: “On going into his barn Mr.
O’Brien discovered a swallow’s nest, and
being a natural observer and lover of ani
mals, lie climbed to the nest, and found
in it two young swallows, one being
smaller and less vigorous than the other,
and having a slighter covering of feath
ers. Upon taking the young bird in his
hand he was astonished to find one of its
legs very thoroughly bandaged with
horse-hairs. Having carefully removed
the hairs one by one he was still more as
tonished to find that the nestling’s leg
was broken. Mr. O’Brien carefully re
placed the bird in its nest and resolved
to await further developments. Upon
visiting the ‘patient’ the next day, the
leg was again bandaged as before. The
bird surgeon was not again interfered
with, and the case being kept under ob
servation, in about two weeks it was
found that the hairs were being cautious
ly removed, only a few each day; and
finally, when all were taken off, the
callus was distinctly felt, and the union
of the hone evidently perfect, as the
bird was able to fly off with its mates.
Such instances may seem incredible to
those not yet fully prepared to accept the
axiom of the scientists, viz: ‘that the in
telligence of animals differs from that
of man only in degree, and not in
kind.’ ”
Something New in Clocks.
A self-winding clock is one of the nov
elties in this market. One would natur
ally think that a self-winding clock would
come pretty near to a solution of the
problem of perpetual motion, but it
doesn’t. The self-winding clock may be
locked up and left untouched for more
than a year, and it will run right along
without appreciable variation, and, ’tis
said, keep better time than a common
clock that is often “regulated.” In the
self-winder the winding is performed
every hour by an electric battery con
cealed within the case, and it is reasona
bly claimed that this frequent action
averts overwinding and running down,
evils which are largely responsible for the
variations of ordinary timepieces. Self
winding clocks cost all the way from
$27.50 to $750. The inventor of this
clock says lie can connect by a wire all
the clocks in the stations on a railway
between New York and Chicago, or be
tween any other cities, so that a simple
touch on an electrical instrument in one
city will set all of the clocks to the same
time, without a second’s difference being
left between any two of them. If this
fertile inventor will now devise some
means of keeping the watches carried by
engineers and conductors of freight trains
always within two or three seconds ol
true time, he will confer a still furthei
blessing upon his railway-collision ab
horring fellow men.
Simple, but Dishonest.
One of the simplest things ever heard
of. and which was still as neat as it was
simple, was the breach of trust of a Phil
adelphia messenger. He received a pack
age of SIOO,OOO and hid it safely away.
He then went hack to the bank which
had employed him and told the officers
that he was tired of being poor, and that
he had determined to use the money they
had given him to carry to a certain other
bank. At first it was thought he was
drunk, then crazy, then joking. But he
simply advised the officers to have him
arrested, as he intended to keep and use
the money in question. The principal
he promised eventually to return.
The officers tried to persuade him. but
without avail. He was finally arrested,
but his only crime was breach of trust.
His declared intention of eventually re
turning the money made it almost im
possible to bring his crime under the
head of any indictable offence. He was
finally tried for breach of trust and came
off with two years in the penitentiary.
. This occurred about fifteen years ago.
The perpetrator still lives in Philadelphia
and is in comfortable circumstances,
and talks freely about his little escapade.
He still says he intends to return the
money to the bank. He had liis lawyer
draw up a will in which he bequeathed
the sum of SIOO,OOO to the hank, being
the sum borrowed on such date, less
$2,400. beiug the amount charged for two
years of enforced idlene-' at SIOO a
month. Mt mjdiis AraUmcht.
Forgot tile Name of His Bride.
A man who applied to County Clerk
Martin for a marriage license the other
day was so nervous that he forgot the
name of the woman w hom he was about
to marry, and had to go to her house
three times before he could remember her
name long enough to tell it to the Clerk.
Each time he went to the house she had
to repeat her middle name over to him,
and as son as he reached the Clerk's
office he could not remember it, until, at
the end of the third trip, by a strong ef
fort. he managed to think of it. Lovers
never care for the middle names of their
sweethearts Santa Oruz {Cei. \ Sentinel.
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
A Railroad Accident—Au Inquisitive
Child—Satisfied to Wait—An Ad
hesive Profession —An Origi
nal “Proposal,” Etc., Etc.
“Well, you'll have to walk home to
night.” remarked a man to another who
lives on the Fort Wavne road.
“Why?”
•• There’s a wash-out on your line.’’
‘ • There is! Where? ”
“ In the back yard.”— Pittsburg Chroni
cle.
An Inquisitive Child.
While Miss Singleton, a maiden lady,
was waiting in the parlor for little!
Mamie’s mother, little Mamie asked:
“Why haven’t you got a husband like
ma has?”
Miss Singleton replied, good-humor- j
edlv, that she couldn't find a man to
marry her.
“Good gracious! Have you really
asked all of them?” exclaimed Mamie, in
open-eyed wonder.— Siftings.
Satisfied to Wait.
“How r long would you be willing to
wait for me?” she asked in tones so low
he could scarcely catch the words.
And then she went on: “You know,
George,” she said: “that father has re
cently invested in a western silver mine,
and he is going there at once, and I can
not leave mother alone. So I ask you
again, George, how long would you be
willing to wait for me?”
“Wait for you. my darling,” repeated ,
George with deep emotion, for his was
no fleeting love, dear reader: “I will
wait for you until we learn how the silver
mine pans out.” — Puck.
An Adhesive Profession.
“You may make sport of phrenology
as you please,” said a fat man from Ohio,
as he leaned back in his chair and twid
dled his thumbs in a Chicago hotel,
“but I owe all my business success to it.”
“How happens that?” inquired a
hearer.
“A traveling lecturer visited our little
town when I was a young man and ex
amined people's heads at a dollar a piece.
I paid a dollar and had my head felt. I
don’t remember all he said about me, but
I recollect he said my adhesiveness was
very large. I took the hint and made
my fortune.”
“You took the hint? I don’t under- j
stand.”
“I became a glue manufacturer,” said
the fat man.— Chicago Tribune.
An Original “Proposal.”
One of the city officials, whose office is
on the second floor of the City Hall, is a
very cautious man. They say that when
he proposed to a young lady something
over a year ago he went at it in an orig
inal manner. They were sitting in the
parlor, and Mv. S. began as follows:
“Miss do I look like an ape?”
“Why, Mr. S., what a question? Of
course you don’t”
“All right. Do you take me for a
jackass^”
“A jackass? What do you ask that
for? Of course I don’t.”
“Very well. You don’t consider me
a harum-scarum good-for-nothing, do
you?”
“Why, I never thought of such a
thing. Why, Mr. S., what put such a
notion into your head?”
“Well, Miss , inasmuch as you
find me devoid of these objectionable pe
culiarities, I have come to the conclusion
that you feel an interest in me, and I
want to ask you to become my wife.”
They were married.— Pittsburg Press.
Nature’s Provisions.
in a conversation drifting toward the
many wise provisions of nature, the Rev.
Mr. Mackwell said: “The other day, in
my intellectual excursions, I came across
a wonderfully sensible paper treating of
the use of snakes. The long black snake
is especially useful. He goes into the
dense swamps, worms himself among the
reek and flags and devours thousands of
scorpions and lizards, which, without his
timely interference, would become too
numerous. So, you see, everything, even
the black snake, is useful, being created
for a purpose.”
“ That is all very well,” one of the
reverend gentleman's listeners replied.
“We recognize the usefulness of the
snake, because he devours scorpions and
lizards, but of what use, pray tell me,
are the scorpions and lizards?”
“ They eat innumerable insects,” the
minister triumphantly replied.
“All right; but of what use are the
insects?”
“The insects?” Whver—they serve as
food for the lizards.”
“ Yes; but of what use are the
lizards?”
‘ ‘ Why, you must be blind not to see
that they serve as food for the snakes.”
“ Of course I see that, but that only
brings up the question of what use are
the snakes?”
“To eat the lizards, I tell you. My
dear sir,” the minister added, “ it is not
strange that philosophy advances so
slowly, when we think of man’s narrow
ness of understanding.”— Arkanmw Trav
eler.
allied by a Huckster.
Mac!-.ii. and John O'Keefe were walk
ing through the Little Green in Dublin
(at that time a market for fruits and veg
etables). The good humor of the sellers
struck O’Keefe, and he spoke of it.
“Aye,’’said Maeklin, “they’re comical,
and good-natured, and ready-witted, and
obliging; but you never get a direct an
swer from them.”
“Ho,” said O'Keefe, “that's not fair:
put your question first."
“Well,” said Maeklin. coming up to
au old woman who had a basket of veg
etables before her. “what is the price of
that cauliflower?”
“That cauliflower!" she replied, tak
ing it up in her hand. "Sir, that’s as
fine a cauliflower as ever was seen, either
in a garden or out of a garden.”
“Yes. but what is the price of it? ”
“The price! not a prettier cauliflower
could you see of a long summer's dav."
“Well, it's pretty enough, but what'-i
the price of it ? ”
"What's the price of it!" Arrah, sir;
you may talk of your tulips and roses
and pinks and wallflowers and gillifiow
ers.but the flower of all flowers is a caul
iflower.”
“But why not tell me the price of it?"
“Ah. you'll not get such a cauliflower
as this, sir, all over the market—here,
the weight of it."
The friends turned away ignorant to
the last of the price of that* cauliflower.
—Free Press.
A Woman's Way.
An agent with three or four rugs iD a
strap had called at a house on National
avenue and rung the bell without arous
ing anybody, when a womau called to
him from across the street:
“No use ringing there."
“Lady gone,'"
“They are too poor to buy rugs."
He was about to pass on. when a
chamber window was raised, and a wo
man stuck her head out aud said:
“I'll show em whether we are or not!
I think a carpenter's wife is just as good
as a darymau's wife, and has just as much
money for tine things. Which is your
best rug?"
“This one. ma'am—for sß.''
“Hang it on the fence, where every
body can see it. Now take this S2O bill
and call at all the houses around here and
ask for change. You won't get it. but 1
have the right amount to hand you when
you come back. If you happen to say to
’em as you go around that this is the first
$8 rug you've sold within a mile of here
I'll give you a piece of pie and a glass of
milk.” —Detroit Free Press.
A Persian (£uack.
Dr. Wills, an Englishman residing in
Persia, accepted an invitation to dine at
the house of Mirza M Kahn, a
wealthy grandee. The meal had hardly
begun when one of the guests. S
Kahn, entered upon a long list of his ail
ments for the benefit of the English
physician.
It is the custom iu Persia to consult a
medical man wherever one is met. This
would-be patient finally stated that, for
the relief of lumbago, he had been in the
habit of inserting a needle beneath the
flesh of his back every morning,but that,
on the previous day, it had disappeared
under the skin.
The physician, after examining the
flesh which S Kahn had uncovered,
told him that it was probable that the
needle had been lost and had never been
in his flesh at all. At this the patient
was mast indignant.
“Ah, you Europeans!” he cried; “you
will never believe. Why Aglia Ali. the
surgeon, says it is there,'and he is going
to extract it by the mouse.”
“By the what?”
“The mouse. Don't you understand
that?”
“No. What mouse?”
“Ah, science! Ah, Europeans! He
doesn't understand the action of the
mouse!”
A chorus of explanations now brought
out the supposed fact that a live mouse
being bound on the back of the patient
the needle, by some mysterious process,
would leave his flesh and be found in that
of the mouse.
“What kind of a needle was it ?” asked
the Englishman.
The confidential valet produced a
packet of ordinary sewing-needles, de
claring that no different ones were ever
used for that purpose.
Presently the native surgeon made his
appearance, and after listening carefully
for the needle with an old stethoscope,
the wrong end of which he applied to the
general’s person, declared that the bit ol
steel was deeply seated.
“But, please God,” said he, “by my
science, anil by the help of the sainted
martyrs, Housseiu and Hassan, I shall re
move it.”
He carefully opened a box and dis
closed a poor little mouse tied by the
feet with silken threads. The animal on
being touched gave a squeak of pain.
The sound was a revelation to the
Englishman.
“Ah,” he said, “this is indeed a won
derful thing! Agha Ali, the surgeons of
Persia have in you a burning and shin
ing light; but your trick is old.” At this
the native turned pale. “Observe, my
friends. Presto, pass! 8 Khan, the
needle has left you and is now in the
poor mouse’s body!”
Agha Ali sprang up and would have
rushed away, but he was seized and held
while Ins box was opened. A needle was
indeed there, previously slipped under
the loose skin of the mouse’s back. It was
compared with the others in the khan's
pockets and found to be half an inch too
short.
That the patient was furious need
scarcely be said. He threatened the
frightened surgeon with punishment in
full measure, and it was only at the
Englishman’s intercession that the cul
prit was spared.— Youth's Companion.
Nineteen Men Executed at Once.
It was execution day at Pekin, and
there were thirty-one prisoners, among
whom were several men of rank, who
were under sentence of death by decapi
tation or strangling. On the day previ
ous the convicts were treated to a boun
tiful repast of wine and victuals, accord
ing to an ancient custom with prisoners
just before their execution. Early the
next morning the condemmed were taken
out of their cells and placed before two
bodies of soldiers, and having been se
curely bound and manacled, were placed
in carts and at once conveyed to the exe
cution ground outside of the Hsuan VVr.
gate, where a mat shed had been erected
for the accommodation of the Judges and
other officials concerned in superintend
ing the execution.
At a little after noon the imperial order
was received consigning three of the cul
prits to death by decapitation and sixteen
of them by strangulation, and to the re
maining twelve, four of whom were men
holding official positions, his Majesty
granted a reprieve, and they were accord
ingly taken back to their cells. It was
about four o’clock in the afternoon when
the executions were ended. It was said
that a man related to the imperial family,
by the name of Tsaisan, who was under
sentence of death by strangulation and
was to be executed on the same day with
the other prisoners, escaped by climbing
over a wall on the night previous, and al
though strict search was made, he has not
yet been rearrested. —Yokohama Gazette.
Famous Earthquakes.
The following, says the New York
| Herald , Is a list of the principal earth
! quakes that have taken place since the
! twelfth century, with the casualties
1 caused:
Persons
Year. Place Killled.
1137—Sicily 15,000
i 1158—Syria 20,00 t
I 1268 —Cilicia 60,000
1450—Naples 40,000
1531—Lislton 30,000
1026—Naples T,oot‘
1667—Schaniaki 80,000
1602 —Jamaica 3,000
i 1693—Sicily 100,000
! 1703—Aijuila. Italy 5,000
1703—Yeddo. Japan 200,000
1 1706 —The Abruzzi 15.00*
1716—Algiers 20.00*
] 1726 —Palermo 6,000
! 17:11—Pekin 100,000
1746—Lima and Callao 18,000
1754 Grand Cairo 40.000
1755 Kashan. Persia 40,000
1755—Lisbon 50.000
1759—Syria 20.000
, 1784—Ezinghian. Asia Minor 5,000
I 1297 —Country between Santa Fe and
Panama.. 40,000
‘ 1805 —Naples 6,000
. 1822—Aleppo 20,0.*)
I 1829—Murcia 6,000
1830 —Canton 6,000
1842—Cape Haytien 4,00*
; 1857—Calabria 10,001
1859 Quito '•,***
1860— Mendoza, South America 7.00 ..
186* —Towns in Peru and Ecuador... 25,<*>0
1875—San Jose de Cucuta. Columbia. 14.<• *
1881—Scio ' 4,000
1886— Charleston 0^
1887— Southern Europe 2,0*4)
KING OF COREA.
?i*i.i:m)ii> sirrouxuisgs oi’
\\ EASTERN RULER.
He Rides in a Gorgeous Red Throne
on Men's Shoulders —Western
Innovations Mingling with
the Ancient Customs.
It is not so easy to get a glimpse of
royalty in Corea as it is in countries par
taking more of the Wastern nature of civ
ilization. writes a correspondent of the
San Francisco Chronicle. The King does
not occupy the place of a god to th<
Coreans exactly, as some have stated, but
he does act as a very exalted High Priest,
aud in that capacity he sacrifices to
Heaven for his people in times of dis
tress. as during the recent cholera epi
demic.
He is never seen by his common sub
jects excepting ou certain occasions when
he goes to worship at the shrines of his
ancestors. Ou these occasions the streets
are cleaned of the merchant booths and
I ill other obstructions, fresh yellow clay
is spread over the road, mounted and loot
police keep the crowd in order and the
King passes by in a procession of near a
mile in length.
The procession is one of the most gorj
geous spectacles to be seen in the East,
and as modern civilization will not be
apt soon to modify it, it is certainly well
worth seeing. Already foreign Uniforms
and guns are beginning to rob it of some
of its barbaric splendor.
The King rides in a gorgeous red
throne supported on the shoulders of
thirty-two men. The carriage is open
and ilis Majesty can be seen by all. Usu
ally the Crown Prince follows in a simi
lar chair, and very rarely the Queen is
borne along in a closed chair so arranged
that she can see out but cannot be seen
herself.
The King's conveyance is preceded by
large bodies of soldiers in brass helmets
and red armor made of thickly padded
cloth covered with metal plates. Bodies
of these gorgeous warriors are broken bv
companies or officers from the palace and
eunuchs. These men wear the peculiar
court dress, which is a dark green robe
of gauze or figured silk, according to
rank and season, with an embroidered
shield upon the back and breast, denot
ing, by the figures worked upon it, the
rank of the wearer. These flowing gar
ments are held in place by a large belt of
fancily carved wood, tortoise shell or
gold set with costly stones.
The hat is peculiar and hard to describe.
It is like a truncated cone with a piece
taken out of the front, and two wings
projecting from the back. It is woven of
silk and horse-hair and is quite open and
light. The King’s conveyance in this
procession is immediately surrounded by
the modern soldiers with foreign rifles,
and clothes made something after the
foreign cut, of purple, bear red and black
calico. They usually have numbers of
flaming red banners and present a most
picturesque sight, while another body of
men make a deafening noise by shaking
poles supporting small cymbals. Follow
ing the royal conveyance are other bands
of ancient and modern military officers
and other representatives from the palace,
with occasionally a gatling gun.
The ancient soldiers have their own
bands, which pour out the weird mono
tonous music from flutes, violins and
hour-glass-shaped drums. But this
music seems rather subdued in the pres
ence of the foreign trumpet which is
most faithfully ‘-tooted” by the repre
sentatives of the modern battalion.
The Corean royal family is directly
composed of four members—the King,
Queen, Crown Prince and his wife. Their
Majesties are about thirty-eight years of
age, and are very intelligent. It is often
remarked with wonder and surprise how
well posted the King is on foreign inven
tions, social customs and political rela
tions. Ile is short in stature and seems
greatly to admire big men. His face is
very pleasing and bright, He has a kind
look and manner and doubtless shrinks
from some of the penalties he has to
indict.
Her majesty is rather tall for a Corean
ladv, somewhat spare and with a very de
termined mien. He face in conversation
is pleasing, but one feels that it could
soon change if she were crossed. The
Crown Prince is a boy of fifteen and is as
tall as his fathef. Ho is at a time of life
when not much can be known as to his
future development, but he bids fair to
fill out and become strong of mind and
body.
Domestically they seem to be a happy
family. The Queen is never seen by any
men outside of her own family and the
mauv eunuchs of the palace. They like
foreign things and will have only the
best. They possess a number of hand
some gold watches with finely jeweled
works and eases set with diamonds. They
use foreign lamps altogether and eat quite
a good proportion of foreign food. All
Coreans are fond of champagne. They
like liquors and sweet wines also, but our
beer is too bitter for them.
They like American cigarettes, which
with cigars and champagne, are always on
the table in the -waiting room when an
audience is to be had. Some foreign play
ing cards have recently been purchased
for the palace, though it is scarcely prob
able that his Majesty will succumb to the
charm of the seductive poker. Although
the King lias been badly deceived at
times by foreigners, he still seems to be
lieve iii them, and is very friendly tc
those whose duties bring them in contact
with him. Some of them have his con
fidence to a great degree. Her Majesty
seems to enjoy seeing foreign ladies and
is quite warmly dispose toward some of
the ladies now resident at the capital.
As the business of the Government is
mostlv transacted at night, in order that the
wheels may run smoothly the next day,
the hours kept by the royal family arc
rather irregular. They usually retire at
about 4 or 5 o’clock iu the morning and
get up some time after noon, taking their
meals accordingly. They have some fine
American horses from California; also,
some Shetland ponies, on which the
Crown Prince intends to ride.
The grounds of the palace are so large
that nearly every kind of sport may l>e
indulged in within the walls. Even hunt
ng is good, for back of the palace en
closure proper there is a whole mountain
side included within walLs extending
from the palace walls to the main wall of
the city.
Casting a Big Bronze Horse.
A large bronze casting was successful!}
poured off at the Henry Bonnard Bronze
Company's works in West Sixteenth
street recently. The casting was the bod e
of the horse for an equestrian statue of
Gen. Meade, after a model by Alexander
M. Calder; of Philadelphia. The statue
! is for Fairmount Park, Philadelphia.
When completed it will be sixteen feet
i high. About 7,500 pounds of metal
were poured. The flask weighs twenty
seven tons. A large number of people
interested iu art subjects were present.—
New York Sun,
SONG OF THE COUNTRY LASS.
I sing the song of the country las;;
In the dew of the morning I saw her pass
The way of the woodland road along.
And the sighing voice of a passing breeze
Among the boughs of the bending trees >
Brought to my ears her happy song:
‘•I would not leave this pathway sweet
For the finest marble paved street
That winds its way 'mid the city's diu.
Or leave the forest's graceful shade
For the fairest park man's hands have made
That lies the busy mart within.
“Though briars catch my homespun gown
And the woodland tendrils snare the ground,
While a robin carols in notes mi clear.
Methinks ‘twere only their wish to say.
Each in their gentle, loving way,
‘Linger. O maiden, and rest thee here!
•‘l've wondered sometimes if its heartless
frown
Hurries the step of the city's throng.
From the break of dawn to the set of sun
No living welcome awaits the eye.
Each looks in coldness and hurries by
Till the busy strife of the day is done.
“The city maid, dad in silk and sheen.
Sees not what I see in ii> shimmering gleam
A woof and a warp of misery.
Whose every thread is an atom life.
That's dyed in hatred, in wrong and strife.
And spun in the looms of poverty.
“My homely garb bears no touch of ill.
Though heavy the thread, it carries still
A charm her richer garb ne'er knew —
Touches of lightness from sunny air.
Touches of brightness from skies so fair.
With love and contentment running through.
“Her lover —they often tell me so—
Waiteth her bidding with courtly bow
And flattering speech in the festive hall.
Yet weighs the charm of her sjieech and
grace
’Gainst her rival's beauty of form aud face.
And the glitter of gold outshines them all.
“My own dear John, whose song so gay
Floats up from the meadows far away.
Plies a busy sickle in bending wheat.
He has no studied words to tell.
And yet I doubt not he loves me well.
As he hastens my woodland way to meet.
••The city's churches are high and grand
By - fretted arches and columns spanned.
Wherein are gathered both pomp anil pride,
Whose choir and organ unite to raise
A song of heaven for the world to praise,
Aud a golden image is deified.
“The chapel yonder is old and drear.
For a moss and memory of many a year
Around its portals in beauty cling,
But over it all is the Sabbath (lav \
Nature is keeping for aye and aye.
And God has hallowed the worshipping.”
—Edith K. Perry.
PITH AO_ POINT.
A gentleman of polish—A bootblack
The great American dessert —pie.—
Siftings.
The violinist is always up to his chin
in business.
A court decision: ‘-Yes, ’Dolphy, I'll
be your wife.” —Cedar Rapids Gossij>.
A partiug injunction —‘‘Right, dowr
the middle, barber.” —Detroit Free Press
A blind man in lowa can tell the coloi
of"a red-hot stove simply by touching it
— Puck's Annual.
As man and wife are one, the husband
when seated with his wife, must be be
side himself. —Philadelphia Herald.
John and Ida married lived
In Idaho forlorn,
’Cause John Jung round the tavern
And let Idaho the corn.
On the Bolling Deep. First Passenger
—‘•Well, old boy, what’s up this after
noon ?” Second Passenger—“ All but the
soup.— London Scrap*.
A Georgia woman looked through
twenty-six different novels to find a name
for her girl baby, and finally settled on
Marier.— Burlington Free Frew.
He (at a Boston musieale) —“What a
glorious interpretation ?” She (a Chicago
young woman) —‘ Yes. Mr. W aldo, Ica'.l
that good fiddling.” — Harper'* Bazar.
There is a widow who keeps a Swedish
boarding house on one of the streets near
the wharves. Her boarders are referred
to as the widow's . “Swedes.” —Boston
Courier.
Mr. Holbrook has written a book tell
ing “How to strengthen the memory.”
He omits the most popular method, by
tying a string about the forefinger. — New
York Time*.
“Chestnuts’” yelled several persons in
the gallery at the minstrel show. “That’s
right, gentlemen. " responded Bones. “If
-vou don't get what you want, ask for
it. ” — Pittsburg Dispatch.
•Don't be a fool.” she said, with a
snap, to her husband. “Why didn t you
tell me that when I asked you to marry
me?” be replied: and silence fell upon
that house.— Washington Critic.
A Chicago detective wrote to a client:
“I have found time to drop you a line.
The client replied that he was glad he
had found something, as he was getting
a little discouraged.— Puck'* Annual.
“Pa. have you the hydrophobia?' “No,
Bertie; what makes you ask that ques
tion?” “Well, I heard ma say to-day
that you got awfully bitten when you
thought she had a fortune in her own
name.” — Harpers Bazar.
An authority says that two apples
placed in the cake box will keep the cake
moist a long time. We wish to add that
if you haven't any apples, place two boys
in. and the cake will not spoil. It will
only change from fruit cake and angel
cake to stomach-ake. — Danscille Breeze.
Two human skeletons have been found
imbedded in solid rock in Arizona. Both
were in a sitting posture and supposed to
have been females. It is thought they
belonged to some prehistoric race and sat
down by the bed of a lake to talk over
the new fashions and did not notice the
flight of time. — Omaha World.
CUPID EUCHRED.
I waited his coining a year.
And I thought: “When he cqgiess. he'll pro
pose.'
I practiced his favorite songs,
I brought out my prettiest clothes—
A love of a gown, made by Worth.
Tender blue, with a touch of pale rose;
For hours I polished my nails:
I read up noth poems and prose.
But alas! when the fatal day came,
I’d a boil on the end of my nose!
A song with the title. “There's a Sigh
in the Heart,” was sent by a young man
to his sweetheart, but the paper fell into
the bauds of the girl’s father, a very un
t sentimental physician, who exclaimed:
“What wretched unscientific rubbish is
this? Who ever heard of such a case?”
He wrote on the outside: “Mistaken di
agnosis; no sigh in the heart possible;
'ighs relate almost entirely to the lungs
and diaphram.”
A native paper under the control of the
Hawaiian Government has taken to pub
lishing a column or so in English.
There are 113 farmers in the Connects
cut Legislature,