Newspaper Page Text
YOL. I.
SANDERSYTLLE, GEORGIA, FEBRUARY 21, 1873.
NO. 34.
r. 31. G. MEDLOCK. JETHRO ARLENE. E. L. BODGEBS.
By ilcdlock, Airline & Rodgers.
The Ht.bat.ti is published in Sandersville,
Ga., every Friday morning. Subscription
price TWO DOLLARS per annum.
Advertisements inserted at the usual rates.
No charge for publishing marriages or
deaths.
POETRY.
Help the Weary on Their Way.
BY CALEB DUNN.
It is a simple thing to give
A kindly word, a cheering smile,
To those who in misfortune live.
Whose days no pleasure e’er beguile;
And better far it is to bless.
Than heed not sorrow or distress.
Happy the man who hath the power, •
And hath the will, to uphold the weak—
[ To all the poor in darkest Hour,
And words of sympathy to speak;
I For he in all the grateful land
I Among the best beloved shall stand."
JThere is nobler one than he
In all the world; nor can be found
|3Iore natural nobility
Than that which his pure life has crowned
JWith acts of love, with goodly deeds,
{Which bravely meet misfortune’s needs.
(Misers we find where’er we turn,
Cold-hearted men who worship self,
I Who every noble prompting spurn,
Whose god is gold, whose joy is pelf:
But though his coffers groan with weight,
Vain is the miser's vast estate.
Biches are good when rightly used,
To elevate and bless the race;
Riches are evil when abused,
And gained to purchase power and place;
Wealth is a glorious thing to own
When garnered not for self alone.
So let us strive the best we may
To aid all fainting souls along,
And lead them out into the c\ay
From darkness, so they may grow strong;
And for our willing sacrifice
We’ll win the love that never dies.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
HOW TOM FELL IN LOYE.
BY A. F. HHX.
Tom Martin was a good looking
young man, of a romantic turn of
mind.
And yet he bad never fallen in love.
He bad seen many gb’ls that be liked
—in fact, be “liked ’em all,” as be
was wont to express it—but be bad
never yet encountered tbe one whom,
according to bis views, Nature bad
fitted for him.
Well, there was ample time yet.
He was only twenty-four.
One beautiful*day in May be got
j an afternoon’s leave of absence from
k tbe store in wbicb be was a clerk,
r I and took a street-car for borne, as
• be bad promised to take bis sister
I lout in tbe country to see tbeir aunt.
He occupied a seat in one comer
of the car, and (Erectly opposite him,
reading a letter, sat—be noticed it
immediately—one of tbe loveliest
creatures that be or anybody else
bad ever seen.
She—but it is no use to attempt
\ to describe her.
Tom’s heart gave one extra throb.
It happened that, just as be bad fair
ly caught sight of her beautiful face,
she finished tbe page she was read-
iug, and involuntarily looked up—
with a pair of such eyes!—and tbeir
glances met. It was but for an in
stant—a mere fraction of a second—
but it was long enough to fix those
eyes on Tom’s heart forever. He
bad always believed in love at first
sight. It was no longer belief now
—it was certainty.
Yes, ah-eady * Tom Martin was in
love with tbe beautiful stranger. Al
ready be began to torture himself
with tbe thought that be might never
see her again—might never know her
name—never have tbe privilege of
speaking to her, and telling her bis
love—that, in any event, her heart
might even now be another’s.
But in tbe midst of these painful
I nflections tbe Fates seemed to favor
lim. While tbe unconscious object
bis admiration, intently read a
second page of her letter, she, witli-
t iut perceiving it, let tbe envelope
all in her lap, right side up, and
Tom’s keen eye at once deciphered
tbe address.
Yes, the full address—name, street
and number—and—oh, joy!—it was
in feminine band. It was no love
letter, then, from a bated rival, be
thought; for so suddenly bad the
passion taken possession of bim that
be already felt that, somehow, be
bad a sort of claim, on the* charming
girl. Romantic fellow!
It was with eager, feverish eyes
that be read tbe address on tbe tell
tale envelope. He felt that be was
taking a bberty, and be looked about
him to see if be was observed, but to
bis wonder not another passenger in
tbe car was paying tbe shghtest at
tention, either to him or the marve
lous beauty in the opposite comer.
Mentally pronouncing them a set
of unappreciative churls,for not seem
ing to be affected by such an unusual
degree of beauty as should have been
palpable to all, hejaroceeded to stamp
her address on his brain. It was:
“Miss Jennie Wright, No. 390 Mark
Street.” Bless tbe dear dear, dis
tinct chirography of her female
friend; there could be no mistake
about it.
The beauty was still in tbe car
when Tom left it, and he stood at
i
i
the street comor, by a lamp post and
gazed wistfully after, tbe rumbling
vehicle as long as it was in sight.
“I love her,” he said to himself, as
be walked home.
He walked on slowly, gaziug at the
curbstone, and presently repeated:.
“I love her, I love her—not for her
surpassing beauty alone, but for tbe
pure soul that shines unmistakably
from her eyes. Miss Jennie Wright,
Mo. 390 Mark street.,’
All that afternoon, during tbe
pleasant trip to tbe country in com
pany with bis own sweet sister—but
be thought her very plain—Tom was
morose and gloomy.
“What’s the matter, Tom ?” asked
bis sister. “Do you not feel well ?•”
“Why, certainly I feel well,” die
replied, half petulantly. “Do I look
sick ?”
“No—but you are rather quiet.”
“No more than usual. You can’t
expect me to be like a noisy, giddy
young gb’l. I’ve a good deal to think
about.”
Yes; be bad Miss Wright, No.
390, to think about. Tom was in
love’ His sister well knew that there
was something on bis mind, for, not
withstanding his implied assertion of
habitual sedateness, be was general
ly just as gay and lively as any “gid
dy young girl.”
So bis sister ceased questioning
him, and be indulged in bis abstrac
tions undisturbed. And tbe more
be thought of Miss Wright, tbe more
be was convinced that be loved her
—that she was destined to be bis.
“But,” said he to himself that even
ing, “bow am I to make her acquain
tance ? I know her name and ad
dress, it is true, but I, a perfect stran
ger cannot boldly wring tbe door
bell, and ask to see Miss Wright,
Nor do I bke tbe idea of writing.
Would she, not knowing me, not
knowing bow deeply I love her, ven
ture to answer my letter? And yet,
I verily bebeve that Providence has
thrown this clue in my way, and that
it is part of tbe great plan for me to
write. Yes, I’ll do it.
He did write that very evening,
and mailed tbe letter next morning
Here is what he wrote :
“Miss Jennie Weight : You will
be surprised when you receive this, I
know ; but / beg you not to act hast
ily in tbe matter, and, a{jove all, not
to treat my letter as an impertinent
intrusion. Where I have seen you,
and how I have learned your name
and address, I need not tell you now.
I will explain all in tbe future. Suf
fice it to say that I have seen you—
gazed upon your beautiful face with
a charmed admiration—and that you
have awakened in my heart a senti
ment that no other lady has ever
awakened there, although I have
been in this world nearly a quarter
of a century. In a word, I love you!
time upon your fair face, I love you
truly—sincerely—with a love that
can never grow cold. Pardon my
boldness in thus addressing you; and
I beg that you will not despise me—
that you will not repel me without
g ’ving me anoppotunity to meet you
ce to face, and tell you, with all the
candor of my soul, what I have here
but poorly written—when I hope, so
earnestly, that you may not find me
unworthy of your affection. At least
do me tbe great kindness to answer
this letter, and tell me if I may ever
hope to find favor in your sight. You
see I do not conceal from you my
name and address, and I trust in
your generous heart that my confi
dence will be sacred to you.”
A day and night passed; then a day
of feverish anxiety and anight of un
rest ; then another day of torture and
suspense, and another night of rest
less longing. A whole week went by,
and no letter from thebeautifulbeing
who seemed destined to make him
happy or miserable during the rest
of bis life.
Then bis heart sunk, arid tbe whole
world looked dark and cheerless. He
thought of bis revolver—of laudanum
—of tbe clothes-line—of the calm
river—and finally, in tbe melancholy
mood, wandered what kind of a life
a hermit’s life was. He thought be
should rather bke it.
No; be would be brave; A whole
week bad passed, and bis love was
unchanged; therefore it was no idle
fancy. Now,hewouldnotgiveitup.
He would write again and again—
aye, call,jif necessary—but be would
know bis fate.
So he wrote again. He told her she
was cruel, then told her she was just,
as be knew be was not worthy of her,
and a great many things like that.
He also told her that be commended
her discretion in paying no attention
to a stranger’s letter—still be en
treated her, now that he bad written
a second letter, to consider bim a
stranger no longer, but to grant him
an opportunity to prove bis love.
He mailed that letter, and, the
same day, made 'eight mistakes in
tbe counting room.
Two days later be received a city
letter, addressed to him in a feminine
hand. With a throbbing heart, he
opened it and looked at the signa
ture. It was signed “Jennie Wright”
A film came over his eyes, and he
was quite dizzy for as much as a quar
ter of a minute. He rubbed his eyes,
chafed his forehead with his hand,
took a glass of water, then read the
letter, which was as follows:
“Me. Martin—Sib: Both your
letters reached me. When I read
your first one I was almost temptgd
to answer it, because I was so curi
ous to know where you had seen m§,
and how you had obtained my ad
dress ; but the propriety of so read
ily consenting to open a correspon
dence with an entire stranger was
not quite clear to me. Your second
letter reached me yesterday, and,
confident of your sincerity, I have
concluded to reply. In the first place,
-I cannot imagine what you see in me
to admire. - My friends have not gen
erally pronounced Me beautiful. I
fear it is an infatuation on your part
from which you may awaken sud
denly by-and-by. I afh willing you
should see me; but, not to act with
undue baste. I must stipulate that
you do not call for two months—if
at tbe end of that tiihe you are still
convinced that you entertain for me -a
true manly regard, I am willing
that we should meet. Remember,
however, that I have not seen you—
do not know how you will impress
me—and therefore cannot give you
tbe slightest encouragement t o
hope for my regard. It is only at
your earnest request that I concede
so much.”
Tom was delighted.. He could
not have hoped for a more favora
ble response. He saw in this letter
an evidence of modesty, .good sense
and a generous heart that was will
ing to deal fairly with a man of sin
cerity and uprightness. He wrote
and told her as much.
A number of communications pass
ed between them, and Tom came to
fancy, from tbe increased friendli
ness and confidence visible in her
letters, that she was beginning to
like him. If so, be might hope for
great results when she should see
him—for Tom was an uncommonly
handsome fellow, if be did know it
himself.
Two months rolled by, and it was
like a kind of happy dream to Tom.
Tbe anticipation of tbe joy that was
to come hghtened every hour, and
bis heart was unchanged; so it was
mutually agreed that, on a certain
Wednesday evening, bis fair corres
pondent would receive him at No.
390 Mark Street.
His heart was beating with un
usual violence when be rang tbe
door-bell.
A servant came to the door, and,
on bis saying that he wished to see
Miss Wright, ushered him into a
well-lighted parlor.
Telling him to be seated, the ser
vant withdrew, saying she would
dall Miss Wright immediately.
Then Tom found himself alone,
and be sat there listening to tbe
beating of bis heart, which, it seem
ed, could not stay in there any lon-
At last be beard fight footsteps
on the hall stairs; then tbe rustling
of female garments in tbe ball; then
the door opened, and a person en
tered. Tom could not look up at
first, and thought be must be faint
ing. a» *»*> mk
But be summoned the last atom
of courage, in bis nature.; then, arose
and confronted the young lady.
“Miss Wright, I—”
But be started as though be bad
stepped on some carpet tacks, and
uttered an exclamation—almost a
scream—because tbe being before,
him was not tbe same be bad seen
and adored at first sight in that hap
py street car; nor was she so beau
tiful. On the contrary, tbe person
before him was strikingly plain, and
her very age commanded respect.
She was a muscular person, with an
angular face, and bad she been at
tired in male habiliments, she would
have passed for a small man of thir
ty-five.
“Mr. Martin, I believe,” she said,
with a smile.
Tom was fairly stunned, but be
could not delay speaking any lon
ger.
Yes; but—Miss Wright—I”
Exactly. That is my name. Be
seated, Mr. Martin. I have been
quite pleased with your letters.”
But,” said the amazed young
man, “you are not Miss Wright, are
you?”
Yes, certainly. Now tell me
where you saw me?”
But—are you Miss—Jennie
Wright?”.
The same. It is I you have
been corresponding with for some
time. Where did you see me, Mr.
Martin?”
And she gracefully seated her
self within three or four feet of poor
Tom. .
“I saw you in a street car; but it
wasn’t you,” responded Tom, scarce
ly knowing what be said. “It was—
a—lovely young lady; she didn’t
look a bit fike you.”
“But how came you to write to
me ? You got my address perfectly
from some source.”
“I saw tout address on an en
velope, while tbe young lady sat
reading a letter.”
Miss Wright thought a moment;
then laughed outright.
Tom "stared and wondered.
“Ob, just excuse me a moment!’ :
she said-rising. “I begin tq geq b
where tj[o mistake occurred.”
And she flitted out of tbe parlor.
“What in the world does all this
mean 7* Tom muttered, as lie wiped
great drops of prespfration from his
clammy brow;
Footsteps were again beard ip the
ball, and plain Miss Wright reap
peared followed by another lady.
It was tbe adored.
“Mr. Martin,” said Miss Wright,
“allow me to introduce you to my
sister”-*—Tom fairly sprang to his
feet with joy-—“my sister, Mrs.
Cooke. Sister, this is Mr. Martin, of
whom I have told you.”
Mrs. Cooke! Tom came near sink
ing to the floor. His face was as
pale as death.
“Oh, Heavens!” be muttered, un
der bis breath. “’Tis she—and
she’s married!”
Mrs. Cooke spoke pleasantly to
Tom, who, to this day, does not
know what be said in reply. Then
all three sat down. At last Tom
spoke rationally.
. “Mrs. Cooke,” be said, “it was
you whom I saw in tbe street car
two months ago—you whom I ad
mired and loved at tbe first glance—
it was you whom I saw reading a
letter, addressed to Miss Jennie
Wright, and it is you that I have
fancied myself corresponding with
all tbe time. Ob, unhappy man that
I am!”
“I understand it all now,” said
Miss Jennie Wright. “I remember
giving my sister a letter I bad re
ceived from a cousin, and as she
was just going out, she said she
would read it in tbe car—that was
tbe way of it. You saw my address
on tbe envelope, and naturally sup
posed it was the address of tbe per
son reading tbe letter.
“Alas, it was so !” said Tom, who
now felt that tbe world indeed bad
few charms for him. -
“It was in a street car, was
it Mr. Martin?” said Mrs. Cooke,
archly.
“Yes,” be rephed sadly. “How
I wish I bad not got into that car
but it can’t be helped now. Miss
Wright, I know you will pardon me
when you see bow unwittingly
have made this mistake and ad
dressed you. I may have led you
in my letters to think— r "
“Oh, there isn’t tbe slightest barm
done,” replied Miss Jennie, good-
naturedly. “I am not so young as I
once was, and do not lightly give
away my affections. In fact, I am
mo?-e amused than anything else at
this mistake. Are you sure you
fell earnestly in love with my sister?”
“Yes*, but it is not right to say so
now,” replied Tom gravely. “She
is married; and I must bear my
disappointment like a man; but it
is tbe hardest blow of my life.”
“But what do you say to my sis
ter’s being a widow ?” asked Miss
Wright, sfily.
“Hush!” said tbe beautiful Mrs.
Cooke, blushing.
“Is she?” Tom fairly screamed,
jumping to his feet. “Oh, don’t lead
me to hope and—”
“Yes, Mr. Martin,” continued Miss
Jennie Wright—oh, bow be did like
her for that!—“my sister was mar
ried young, and her husband, hav
ing met with an accident, and has
been dead a year and a half. With
that explanation, as this call was
intended for her, I will leave you.
Good-evening, Mr. Martin. I hope
you and my sister may like each
other. I have nothing further to
say.” And she withdrew.
It was nearly three months before
Tom Martin—happy fellow!—led the
blooming Mrs. Cooke to tbe altar.
She looked prettier and sweeter than
ever, and everybody present de-
Mrs. Teredo and Her Family.
BY BEY.' JOHN TODD, D. D.
“This,” said Deacon Hays, “is
irobably^tbe last ship I shall ever,.
havebheaMfri
^perfect as p
So he selected a beautiful model, f some-surprise.
A Text for Boys.
A man of very pleasing address;
but very dishonest in his practices,
Onco-said to an honorable merchant,
"whose word is as good as his bond,”
“Iwonld give fifty thotuSaifd dofidrst
“Why so?”' asked' the ‘ oth<fr, in*'
dared tliat no one living could ever
have taken her for a widow.
A Sufficient Vouchee.—Tbe La-
Grange Reporter says:
A friend tells us tbe following
story, which is too good to keep:
He was in a wholesale grocery
bouse in Atlanta, a short time ago,
when a man came in and aske$ the
proprietor to sell him some cqm,
telling him at the same time, that
be bad no money to pay with then,
but would before long. As tbe ap
plicant was a stranger to tbe pro
prietor, the latter, of course, hesita
ted. While be was deliberating, a
Primitive Baptist preacher, well
known to tbe proprietor, entered
tbe store, and addressed the apppli-
cant, “How are you, brother ?”'
Tbe proprietor immediately turned
to one of bis clerks, saying:—“That’s
enough; he’s a Hardshell Baptist.
Let him have the com; I know he
will pay.” And the applicant went
on his way rejoicing.
t
Tbe franking privilege, now doom
ed to go out of existence on the first
day ofne^t July, was born Janua
ry 10, 1792, ana is consequently in.
its eighty-second year.
and knowing /that tbe owner wanted
something very superior,' he spared
no time or money in procuring the
best timber to be had, and the best
workmen to be found. And then he
watched over every stick as it was
heWn and fitted in its place, every
plank that was spiked on the timbers,
and every spar that was prepared.
When they came to put the copper
sheathing Over tbe bottom of the
ship, the deacon watched it very
closely. At one spot he found the
head of tbe iron nail which fastened
tbe sheathing split. The deacon’s
eyes were becoming rather poor; but
he saw the broken bead.
“Jim Spiker, I see a nail broken,
isn’t there a little hole by its side?”
• “Not a bit of it, I’m sartin. There
couldn’t a drop of water get in in a
century.”
So the word of Jim was accepted,
tbe ship was finished, and launched,
and made two or three prosperous
voyages. During one of these, she
lay at a wharf in Calcutta. Now these
waters swarm with that Kttle pest,
tbe ship-worm. They crawled all
over tbe ship, but could not get
through tbe copper sheathed. At
length Mrs. Teredo, a very small
specimen of her tribe, fit upon tbe
broken nail, found tbe little bole and
squeezed herself in- Then she be
gan to eat tbe timber, and lay her
eggs in it. Soon they hatched, and
increased till that timber was full of
tbe little Teredoes, and then the next
and tbe next, till every stick in tbe
whole ship was full, and eaten almost
into powder. Still tbe ship looked
sound, sailed well, and made her
long voyages. At length, when in
the middle of the great ocean, a ter
rible storm met her. Tbe wind howl
ed through the rigging, as if singin
a funeral dirge. The waves rollei
up and-writhed as if in agony. Ev
ery spar was bent, and evefy timber
and spike strained to tbe utmost
The cargo wbicb filled tbe ship was
of immense value. Tbe crew was
large and the passengers many.
Worse and worse grew tbe storm, till
at last a huge wave struck her with
all its power. Tbe poor ship stag
gered, groanod once, and crumpled
up like a piece of paper. She found
ered—at sea—in the dark night—-by
tbe awful storm! The rich cargo all
went to the bottom of the ocean. The
drowned men and women sank down,
down, miles, before they rested on
the bottom! ATI done through'the ne-
ghet of Jim Spiker, whowas too un-
faithfiifto mend the hole' made' hi tlie’
broken nail ' - " ’ _ f
here'were watchings and anxieties
by those on. shore—all. wondering
why the richlyladen ship did not ar
rive. Tbe cargo and ship were all
gone, and many were made poor, be
cause the broken, nail was not re
placed!
The wife waited long and tearfully
for the husband—the children long
ed for the father who never came.
The little hole bad been left!
The poor widow who depended on
her oinly son, a kind, dutiful, manly
youth, her stay and staff—looked
out of her bumble-dwelling in vain.
Her boy never came! Tbe nail bad
been left broken!
Scores of homes were desolated,
and many bad their earthly hopes
crushed by the sinking of. that ship,
and all because the httle bole was
left! Mrs. Teredo and her great fam
ily bad never brought all this ruin—
had not Jim Spiker been unfaithful.
Ob! bow often is a child ruined
by some.neglect, as to bis temper,
bis easily besetting sin! The little
foxes creep in easily and spoil tbe
vines. The worm that eats up cha
racter and wrecks all the hopes of life
can crawl into a very small hole. A
mother neglected to punish or even
reprove her boy for stealing an egg,
and that neglect, as he said on the
gallows, brought him that shameful
death. A single bow of a single smile
may win the good-will of a child,
that will lead bun to Chirst. A sm
ile visit to tbe sick chamber, to the
iabbath school scholar, a single
conversation, may lead to the sal
vation of an immortal soul. Great
results often grow out of small
things. Tbe loosening of a single
grain of sand may end in the sweep
ing away and destroying all the mills,
and ruining a village. Beware of
the first lewd word, the first profane
expression, tbe first taste of strong
drink, tbe first neglect-of your Bible
tbe-first neglect of prayer, the first
breaking of the Sabbath. You are
leaving holes for the Teredo family
to ruin you forever.—S. S. Times.
Insults are fike codnterfeit notes;
we cannot prevent tbeir being offer
ed, but we can refuse tb take them.
Tire North Pacific Railroad is con
structed to the Missouri river. The
expenses haye been $11,581,467.
^Because I <fould itfake a hundred
thousand dollars out of¥t.”
The honorable character which,
was at the bottom of the good name/
be cared nothing for; it was oily
tbe reputation, which be could turn
to account in a money point of view,
which be coveted.
But a good name cannot be bought
with silver; it, of all other posses
sions, must be fairly earned. When
it is possessed, it is better business
capital than a great sum of money,
It is a capital any boy or girl may
secure. Honesty must be its found
ation, even in tbe smallest particu
lars. When an employer says,
“That is a boy I can trust,” he will
always find himself in demand, pro
vided be joins with it industry.—
“The hand of the diligent maketh
rich.”
It seems hard at tbe time, maybe
—this ceaseless round of work, while
other boys are lounging about’stone-
steps, or playing on the green. But
tbe reward will come if you are
faithful. While loungers are drag
ging out a miserable lifetime in pri
vation and poverty, tbe hardworking
boy lives at bis ease, respected pud
honored.
Remember this, if' you desire to
make your way in the world. There
is nothing that can serve your pur
pose like a name for honesty and in
dustry ; and you will never acquire
either if you are a lounger about the
streets and a shirk at your business.
Everybody suspects a lad who is of
ten seen about saloon-doors or tav
ern steps. It undermines a boy’s
character for honesty very rapidly
to mix with society bo finds there;
and such habits tend to anytliii^
but industrious ways.
“A good name is rather to be cho-
son than great riches, and loving fa
vor rather than silver and gold.”—
Print that text on your heart, and
carry it with you in all your walk;
and ways. It is worth far more than
silver and gold to you.—Presbyterian
Hc'pe for Bough Boys.
Donot be discouraged, mother
What'though the boys are rude am?
rough, that shoulc|. not discourage
you. The new farm is cough and
^ed when the /husbandman' firs<
ns to*tifiritj<biifr- by patient toi, 1
dffflty extracts the roots, re
moves tbe bbuldefs'levels the knolls,
and fills '£He hollows. If tbe soil
seems at first to refuse a return for
his toil—presenting only heaps of
rocks, and more unsightly heaps of
barren earth—donot let him*be dis
couraged, for there is a mine of
wealth in the deeply-dug and well-
wrought field, which shall soon yield
ample profits for the labor and pa
tience invested. Tbe old mars!
shall blush with beauty and health.
The sandhill shall yet be spread
with a carpet of gr ; een a monarch
might'be proud to own and tread.
The boulders shall yet kiss the feet
of both tbe proud and humble, the
poor and the- rich, and draw forth
praises from the man of science and
of taste. The tough, unsightly tus-
suck shall yet yield food that feeds
the tiller. Do. not be discouraged
mother, for those very forbidding
characteristics in your boy, when
checked and moulded by an intel
ligent and persevering discipline
will be of vast worth to him when a
man. It may cost more to subdue
and direct a stubborn will, but whet
the work is done you have made an
efficient commander. It may cost
more to polish the rude boy, but
yon have succeeded in giving the
world a man instead of a statue.
There is a jewel under that forbid
ding frown and hostile resentment.
If you would realize its full value,
be very patient. Train surely and
carefully. Your investment may not
at once yield you a return; may, it
may be years ere it affords you much
fruit of a desirable beauty or rich
ness; but be well assured of this:
the more diligent and patient you
toil, the sooner will you be blessed
with a satisfactory return.
Beady Money.
Beady money is an excellent thing
to have on hand. No matter if it is
a httle sum. If it is only sulficient
for the current expenses it is a great
convenience to say the least. Any
one who has tried and compared the
credit with the cash system 17111 readi
ly admit the correctness of the above
remark.. When you buy .for cash you
gen^fSTly" get things' ’'cheaper—get
better weights and measures and all
the fafoVs the de'aler' can extend to
his patrons. On the efrrdfifc “credit
system the matter is usually revers
ed. If ybu try to avoid credit by
borrowing, you improve' Matters ve
ry little if any. Hence, we give this
advice; ‘Turn an honest penny”
when ever you can, and always have
sufficient’money on hand to meet
your small engagements. Farmers
usually depend upon, their own crop
for the means necessary for their ex
penses of the whole year, and it is
singular that they# should thus - de
pend upon the one single source,
while the opportunities for profit is
more varied on the farm than in al
most any other branch of industry.
Put yourselves to thinking and do
not miss a single opportunity for
earning a dollar of a dime even. Per
severing industry begets economy,
aqd both combined-begets competen
cy and fortune.-—Agriculturist.
Forgive and Forget.
. There exists a very beautiful cus
tom in Germany, which it would be
well to imitate everyhere. On the
first day of the New Year, whatever
may have been the quarrels or es
trangement between friends and rel
atives, mutual visits are inter
changed, kindly greetings given and
received—all is forgotten and for
given. It may be that it does not
:.n many cases continuer but who can
tell, when the long frozen floodgates
of affeetion are thus thawed by the
jjenial influence of kind words, how
noon the first step toWartTS reconcil-
: ation, which pride or passion so of
ten prevent from taking, may follow,
and be the means of reuniting hearts
;;o often separated by such mere tri
ples or misrenresentatibns!—Episco-
A Bam on the Rampage.—The
Danbury News says: A retired cler
gyman sends us an account of a
little affair that happened in his
place. It appears that there was a
young woman, a fine spirited girl,
engaged at a wash tub opposite an
open door. Just behind her was a
young man, as is generally the case, -
and in the yard was an old buck
that was- allowed the freedom of the
premises, which is not always the
case, we arc .glad to say. Weil, this
buck came up to the door and look
ed in, and the young man, going
close behind the young woman,
pointed his finger straight at the
buck, and the old fellow recognizing
at once the - pressing character of.
this mute invitation, put down his
head and dashed forward, and the
miserable iftm’stepped to one side
and fled, fhixl the young woman, all
unconscious of. the arrangements,
received the- awful shock without
warning, and passed over the tub,
and the air for an instant appeared
to be foil of slippers and wet clothes
and soap and hot water and suds.
And the next minute that goat came
flying out of that door at a dreadful
speed, bald the. whole length of his
spine and with a wild look in hia
eye. And for an hour afterwards
die stood, back to the barn, scratch
ing his'chin and frying to recall all
the circumstances in the unfortunate
affair.
•les or misrepresentations !-
■mI Methodist.
The last census of Palestine shows
a Jewish population of 15,293 souls.
Of these 8,000,. {^qre. than, half,) five
in Jerusjale’m, 5 ahout-^jOOO in Safet,
2,000 in Tiberius, and; 800 in Heb
ron. The remainder,-about 400, are
divided between Aeco, Jaffa, Haifa,
Sicbem and ShefaAman.
The Stamp Tax on Checks.—The
Committee on Ways and Means have
decided to continue the stamp tax
on bank checks, drafts and orders.
The impression is abroad that this
tax is about to be abolished. The
action of the committee settles the
doubt.
Plato’s tradition of the lost conti
nent is being verified by leading geol
ogists, and that the space now oc
cupied by the Atlantic Ocean was
once.that continent. Upoff the Rocky
Mountains abundant evidence of the
theory that they are outskirts of it,
are found in the aquatic plants and
shells strewn over them. The White
Mountains and the Adirondaeks are
also recognized by those interested
as high points of the boundry of the
country which were under the sea.
“What a nuisance!” exclaimed a
gentleman at a concert, as a young
fop in front of him kept talking in a
loud voice to a lady at his side. “Did
yon refer to me, su?” threateningly
demanded the fop. “Oh, no; I mean
the musicians there, who k^ep up
such a noise with their instruments
that I can’t hear your conversation,”
was the stinging reply.
When a Maine man has a to talk
ative wife, he tells her he is going
to Ansanahquatasogowmon^otonga
hunting, and in his absence has his
friends call at the house and inquire
’ tis whereabouts. When he returns
is faithful wife is exhausted, and
doesn’t want - to speak for a month.
“Cast Iron Sinks,” is written up
on the sign of a Hartford plumber.
“Well, who the (hie) said it didn’t?”
chuckled, an inebriated man after
reading it over three times.
“Sambo,-what is dar dat nebber
was, nebber can be, nebber will be?”
“I drnrno Caesar. I gibs it np.”.
“Why chile, a mouse’!? nest in a cat’s
r ...nrum-