Newspaper Page Text
VOL. I.
SANDERS VTLLE, GEORGIA, MAY 9, 1873.
NO. 45.
j. M. O. 'lEDtiOOK. JETHEO A RUNE. E, L. KODGEBS.
"j» v Arlsiic & Rodgers.
The Herald is published in Sandersville,
every Friday morning. Subscription
price TWO HOLLARS per annum.
1 Advertisements inserted at the usual rates.
No charge for publishing marriages or
deaths.
POETRY.
Captain Jack <jf the Red Modoes.
Air—“ Captain Jinks."
I’m Captain Jack of the Red Modoes,
■Who grimly at the Government mock3,
Enthroned among the lava rocks;
For I’m the pest of the army.
I’ve led them many a weary dance,
AVeary dance, weary dance;
For dirty savage, red nuisance,
I’m an awful pest to the army.
I’m Captain Jack of the Lava Reds,
I’m “cock of the walk,” and chief o’ the Reds,
I kin ‘ ‘lift the liar” and scalp the heads,
Of the whole United States army.
"When I go out my squaw she cries,
My squaw she cries,
My squaw she cries,
When I go out my squaw she cries—
You’d better look out for the army!
Killing and scalping, and drinking rum,
I always thought the best of fun
Till the soldiers came; then off I run,
So as not to bo caught by the army.
< ‘Don’t take his home!” the peace men cried,
The peace men cried, the peace men cried;
And hard and fast the hands they tied
Of those cruel men of the army.
I tolled them to my mountain lair;
The peace men lead them into the snare,
In which I managed to “take the hair
Of the bravest man in the army.
The country then did wildly shout,
Did wildly shout, did wildly shout*
“Let these Indian scoundrels‘bo cleaned out’
By the boys in blue of the army.”
I am Captain Jack the Modoc red;
Around me in a fatal web
Of gleaming steel and eager lead
In the vengeful hands of the army.
And sabre stroke and pistol crack
AVill end the life of Captain Jack.
And all the rest of the wolfish pack
That have torn the braves of the army.
I’m Captain Jack of de Modoc braves,
And cock o’ the walk to the lava caves,
When I catches ’em out—their heads I shave-
The heads of the braves of the army.
Whenlistand up, the pickets they stare
"The pickets they stare,
The pickets they stare,
When I stand up the pickets they stare
And then run back to the army.
[Oh, yes; Ladies and Gentlemen, big medi
cine man Killem, he going to eat up J/odoc
Chiefs at one square meal, but he make he
too muchee fight at San Francisco telegraph
• iiLU, shoot bomb-shell at Modoc squaw and
:calp;only dead Ingin, Charley. Ugh, Cap-
; ..in Jack, ho bailee boy with glass eyes.
. Killem he played out on dis line—all
. miner time.]
iELECT MISCELLANY.
ME DRESS, NOT THE LADY, j
BY MARY A. DENNISON.
Nelly Blossom, a pretty name, is
it not? sat in her dressing-room
laughing as hard as she could laugh.
What it could be for, I am sure no
body could tell, for she was alone,
neither singing, laughing, or talking
to herself. She had been occupied
in combing her beautiful hair, and
this was the situation in which she
sat. A brush in one hand, a great
mass of siliky curls in the other, her
head thrown back, her voice ringing
out in a succession of good hearty
“ha ha’s.”
“What is the matter, Nelly ?” ask
ed her mother, standing at the door.
“O! I was thinking of something
so funny!” cried Nell, springing to
her feet and playing with the brush;
“never mind, mother, I’re got a plan
in my head, and if X decide upon
putting it in execution, I will tell you
what it is.”
At breakfast pretty Nelly was all
smiles.
“Shall you go out shopping to-day?
asked her mother, glancing casually
towards her daughter. {
On -this Nelly began to laugh again
then restraining herself and catching
father’s eye, she answered, “I have
not made up my mind—perhaps I
may.” .J - •
“Ah! contriving already how to
make way with that fifty dollars Un
cle Joe sent you yesterday! Well,
make good use of it;—there’s many
a poor man would feel like a prince
these hard times, with fifty dollars in
his hand.”
“I will try sir,” replied Nelly, her
laughing eyes growing more quiet in
their expression.
“Who did you see last night, Nel
ly ?” asked Mrs. Blossom, lounging
over her tea after the paterfamilias
had gone out.
“Henry Lloyd and Charley Shel
don, as usual;” replied Nelly, archly.
“Were they both attentive?”
“As two shadows,” replied Amy.
“Henry never looked more noble in
his life.”
“Last time it was Charles,” said
I-.irs. Blossom.
Nelly blushed. “I know,” she
said “1 hnd it difficult to choose be
tween them, I confess.”
' ifehvy is the richest and the
LUibsomest of the firm,” said her
* muther, looking out, as mothers will
>or the main chance.
"i don’t know about Henry being
handsomest,” replied Nelly;
‘Aero is something' very superior
' ■' : ou t Glories Sheldon’s face, but he
! m so retiring' one has to give him
so much margin: To be sure Henry
is more dashing, might be called
more elegant, and certainly a more
brilliant eye and color. Perhaps
dresses in rather better taste ; but
although he pleases more in com
pany, there is something in Charles
Sheldon’s quiet and deep eye that
sometimes seems more attractive.”
“Both appear to have sterling
qualities.” said Mrs. Blossom.
“Yes, they appear to have ; but
I’m going to test them to-day.”
“What do you mean, Nelly?”
“O! that’s what I was laughing at
up stairs, this morning,” -replied Nel
ly in a merry way. “You see I have
such a capital plan! and I’m the
very one to carry it out I think. I
shall spend my fifty dollars on poor
Mill’s family.”
What wild freak now ? asked the
maturer Blossom of the two, look
ing wonderingly at her daughter.
Dear easy little woman, Nelly had
not much to fear from any interfer
ence on her part. It was wert“ that
the young girl naturally possessed
much discretion, good sense and
good judgment, for her mother nev
er imposed any restraint on her in
clinations, wayward or otherwise.
“Don’t you think Agnes rather a
pretty looking girl, mother?”
“What little Agnes, my dressing-
maid ?” rejoined her mother.
“Not so very little; about my size,
I believe,” said Nelly.
“Well what of her ? I am all at
tention.”
“Why you haven’t answered my
question whether you though she
was handsome,” said Nelly.
“Oyes! pretty, rather,” was the
reply.
“Well, I’m going to dress her up
splendidly!”
“Nelly!”
“I am, truly, in a new bonnet I or
dered yesterday, and my best flounc
ed silk. I’m just going to load her
with chains, rings, bracelets, and
everything handsome; and then I’m
going shopping with her.”
“Nonsense!” ejaculated the elder
Blossom; “Nelly you are going
‘Certainly, madam,” replied the
polite clerk; immediately taking out
>1< ““
crazy
“Nowhere near it,” said Nelly
laughing again, “I’m going to have
real fun, you may believe.”
“But what object have you in this
quite foolish scheme ?” asked her
mother.
“O! you’ll see,” replied Nelly.
“I’m going now, and when Agnes is
dressed, I’ll come down and exhibit
her.”
Agnes was pretty and smart also.
She was very ignorant but having
been dressing-maid in several good
families she had picked up a little
smattering of useful information. As
for the rest she was full as handsome
and nearly as graceful, when she
chose to be, as many a lady of fash-
She entered into the scheme with
pleasure. “You are not to buy any
thing, you know,” said Nelly, as she
turned waiting-maid, clasped on the
bracelets and aided her in dressing,
“but ask for such and such silks,
speak in an ordering, commanding
way, you know, and manage some
how to show your money; O! I have
it, carry it in this purse; the gold
will shme through the meshes beau
tifully.”
“And what shall you wear?” ask
ed Agnes, surveying herself in the
long mirror, with a pleasant face.
“I ? O ! a plain drab merino, with
closed sleeves and linen cuffs; mam
ma’s every-day straw bonnet with
the flowers taken out, common Lisle
gloves, and look just as plain as a
pipe-stem.”
“O, dear, dear,” cried the girl
laughing; “why people won’t know
you.”
“I don’t mean they shall,” said
Nelly demurely, proceeding to dress
her hair low upon her forehead, and
otherwise alter her appearance so
that her mother would hardly recog
nize her. throwing on at last’ a
deep brown veil to shade her face,
she was ready. Agnes had received
her instructions to keep near Nelly,
both in the store and in the street.
It was not a long -walk to „Lloyd,
Sheldon, & Co.’s.' There were three
young men; the firm was new, and
the partners took an active part in
the sales-room, thus overseeing their
business and economizing some
what.
Agnes acted the great lady to per
fection. She shook out her silks,
tossed her head- a little, as if with
the feeling that everything about
her was entirely beneath notice, yet
she could condescend perhaps, to
buy something, and sailing along the
store, with her humble companion
behind her, she* paused at a place
where four clerks stood with their
eight hands all ranged along togeth
er, ready to jump over the counter
if need be, to execute the lady’s com
mands.
Nellie stood quietly back, her face
shaded by the brown veil. She saw
Lloyd immediately leave a plain
looking customer to the civilities of
Sheldon, who was near him, and
making a sign to the clerks, he was
left alone with the new customer.
“I wagt to see some moire an
tique,” said Agnes, with the air of
one who has plenty of money.
immense cases of the splendid silks,
and spreading them before her.
“How much do them come to a
yard?” asked Agnes, cunningly show
ing her gold.
The young man informed her,
with a great deal of deference, turn
ing over and displaying a great num
ber of the goods.
“Those don’t exactly please me;
they ain’t costly enough,” said Ag
nes, longing to look over towards
Nelly and laugh.
“We have very splendid embroid
ered silks at almost any price,” said
Lloyd, delighted that he had fallen
in with a customer who seemed to
have no care how much things cost;
and with great trouble he took down
other cases, catching his coat sleeve
unfortunately on a nail, and tearing
it nearly from shoulder to elbow.
Nelly was obliged to turn away
then to conceal a smile. Meantime
Sheldon had got through with his
customer, and the young girl heard
Lloyd say, in a murmering voice,
“Just look out for that woman there
—goods are lying about loose.”
The indignant blood rushed to her
face.
“Isn’t she a customer?” asfed
Sheldon in the same tone.
“No, servant, I expect; carry
home bundles,” said Lloyd, still in
that suppressed voiee. But Shel
don did not seem to be satisfied;
he came forward, saying in a gentle
manly tone: “Can I wait upon you,
madam ?”
Instantly, Nelly experienced a
glow of warmth about her heart that
had felt the risings of scorn before.
She modestly replied, “Some flan
nels, if you please.”
“Be kind enough to walk over to
the opposite counter. As I see the
clerk is engaged there, I will serve
you,” he said. Nelly followed with
a beating heart. How different this
treatment from the unkind suspi
cions of the more elegant Lloyd.
Very courteously he waited upon
her, forcing no goods to attention;
merely bowing if she was not satis
fied, taking down with alacrity what
ever she asked for, so that every
moment, as sEe looked at Lies Hue
countenance, her admiration grew
stronger,—perhaps another senti
ment increased also in depth and
intensity. Suffice it to say that Nel
ly bought till her fifty dollars were
expended, leaving directions for the
goods to be sent to a certain place,
to he paid on delivery. As she left
the store, Agnes threw the card of
rich lace she was examining, and
saying hastily, “I’ll call in again,
by-and-by,” she followed her mis
tress.
“Well,” said Lloyd, drawing a
long breath, “of all the infernal ”
“Have you done a pretty good
morning’s work ?” asked Sheldon,
laying aside the parcels he had sold.
“Good morning’s work,” muttered
the other; “I haven’t taken a red
cent, and look at the counter.”
Truly enough, the counter was a
sight to be seen. Great heaps of
silks, velvets, shawls and laces strew
ed it from one end to the other.
“What did that girl buy of you?”
asked Lloyd, directing a clerk to
put up the goods—a full hours work.
“Nothing to speak of—only fifty
dollars,” returned Sheldon.
“Fifty dollars.! why I didn’t think
she was worth fifty cents!” exclaim
ed Lloyd.
“Can’t always tell by the outside,”
said Sheldon, smiling—“my custom
er was a real lady,” he added.
“And mine was—O, dear me!”—
and Lloyd threw back his head and
laughed—so did his coat sleeve.
“I thought you were sure for a
hundred dollars, at least,” said Shel
don.
“So did I.”
“I was afraid my customer over
heard what I said,” continued Llyod.
“O, no!” replied the other; “she
would have left the store; but I am
too suspicious of all who are dress
ed in style. I’ll be more careful
in the future.”
The lesson was learned too late.
In a few months the beautiful Nelly
Blossom became little Mrs. Sheldon,
and brought her husband quite a
fortune. It leaked out about the
shopping. _ _ _ __
Without an Enemy.—No man can
dodge enemies by trying to please
everybody. If such an individual
ever succeeded, we should be glad
of it—not that one should be going
through the world trying to find the
beams to knock and thump against
disputing every man’s opinion, fight
ing and elbowing, crowding all who
differ from him. That, again, is an
other extreme. Other people have
their opinion, so have you; don t fall
into the error of supposing that they
will respect you more for turning your
coat every day to match theirs. Wear
your own colors in spite of wind or
weather, storm or sunshine. It costs
the irresolute and vacillating ten
times the trouble to wind and-twist
and shuffle than honest, manly in
dependence to stand its ground.
The Magic Whisper;
“Chillen,” said Uncle Ned, “what
color is dat yar rose?”
“Red,” they shouted; “just as
red as a rose can be.”
“No dispution ’about dat at all, is
?” said Uncle Ned, mysteriously,
course there isn’t,” said the
children.
“Well,” pursued the old negro,
whom overybody called Uncle Ned,
“what would you. chillen say if I war
to whisper a message to dat yar rose
which would be de occassion ub
maim’ it turn white in spots, whiter’n
white folks ?”
* “O, Uncle Ned! you couldn’t do
it!” they shouted.
“Well, now, jess you chillen be
still an’ circumspectuous a minute,
an’ old Uncle Ned’ll show you sum-
fin.” So saying, he took the bright
red rose and asked the youngsters
to “look sharp at it in every ’ticku-
lar,’ so they’d know it again sartin
an’ sure.” Then carrying it into the
pantry, he called out:
“Is you all seated, still and circum
spectuous ?”
“Yes! yes!” they cried.
Out he came, with the rose hidden
in his hand; then holding it to his
lips for a moment, he whispered his
message, rolling his eyes at a great
rate all the while. Looking into his
still nearly-closed hand he added
aloud :
“He! he! what skeer yon? You’s
mose as white as de chillen. Here,
show yourself!”
“Qh ! oh! oh!” cried the children,
as they crowded about Uncle Ned to
admire the flower. “Isn’t that lovely!
Why, it’s all variegated, red and
white! How did you do it, Uncle
Ned?”
“How did I warimegate it ? Didn’t
you comprestand ? 1 gib it a mes-
The ‘‘Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to.”
“Tell me the message, please do!”
said the littlest girl of the party.
“Teach me how to whisper to the
rose.”
Uncle Ned shook his head.
“Pl^se do,” she pleaded. She
was Uncle Ned’s pet.
“Well come into de pantry, Miss
Nelly, an’ don’ never tell a livin’ soul.’
In they went with a fresh red rose,
Ulid oooxx ootnc uui vriiL. lircj^cu more
beautifully variegated than the first
was.
“Oh! oh! oh!” cried the children
again. “Tell us, Nelly ! Tell us the
magic waisper.”
But Nelly just folded her chubby
arms quietly, and said she had prom
ised Uncle Ned to keep the secret
like a little lady.
Then such a hubbub as there was!
The children crowded around the
old negro, and teased him until atiast
ounon’t
lie declared that if they counfln’t
“misbehave themselves no better
dan det, he’d jess clar out and leave
’em.” “But,” he added, “if it’s
gwine to discombobberate yon at dis
yere rate, guess ole Uucle’ll tell yon
afore he goes. You jess light a
match an’ hole it quick under de
rose, an’ let de fumes rise up into it,
kinder pertectin’ de rose, so/Tvid yer
hand, so it ken git a heap ob de gas
out ob de match, bein’ mighty keer-
ful not to scorch it, and it warime-
gates beautiful. Mose any red flow
er’ll do de same—peenies, roses, or
mose any ob ’em. De whisper’s jess
a make-believe. But, Lor! it don’t
take nuffin’ to fool white folks.”
And the rest of that day the chil
dren were trying Uncle Ned’s plan
of “warimegating” roses and other
flowers, and in time they succeeded
quite as well as he. They soon dis
covered that if the rose wasnot suffi
ciently changed before the wood of
the match began to bum, it was best
to blow out that match and hold an
other freshly-lighted one under the
Tly variegated a bine
ily-
flower. Nell] .
larkspur, and changed a red fuchsia
so beautifully, that when her uncle,
the botanist, dropped in to see them
in the evening, he really thought it
was some wonderful new variety that
was shown him.—Hearth and Home.
A Godless House.—A little boy,
three years old, whose father was
careless, prayerless, and irreligious,
spent several months in the dwelling
of a godly family, where he was
taught in the simple elements of di
vine truths.
The good seed fell into good and
tender soil, and the child learned to
note the difference between a pray
erless and a Christian dwelling.
One day, as some one was convers
ing with the little fellow about the
great and good God, the child said:
“We haven’t got any God .at my
papa’s house.”
Alas, how many such houses there
are in our world and land, houses
where there is no prayer, no wor
ship, no God! And what homes
are they.for children, aye, men and
women too. How much better is
the pure atmosphere of Christian
love, than the cold selfish worldli
ness of a godless home.
Thin party (to street urchin):
“Boy, what do you suppose! that dog
is following me for ?” The youngster
cast a knowing look at himandread-
Be kind to those in distress.
ily replied: “Guess he takes you
, bone.”
for a
I saw a tigress a little while ago.
Sh qj^vas in a cage gnawing a bone.
A man put his umbrella against the
bars of her den, and oh! how madly
her eyes glared. She showed her
white teeth, growled, and sprang to
wards the man in a way that made
him start back in a hurry.
“Well,” thought I, half aloud, “if
you were loose, mistress, and in the
streets, I should not like to meet
you. You’d make mince-meat of the
boys and girls’ mazing quick ”
“But there is a creature as dan
gerous as the tigress ranning loose
among the children,”
whispered a
friend at my elbow.
“Ah” cried I, looking round with
surprise in my looks. “What is it?”
“The Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to,” said
he, laughing,, and leaving me very
much puzzled for the moment.”
‘The Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to,’ mused
I. “He’s joking, I guess. And yet
it seems to me I’ve heard that name
before. Oh! I’ve got it! He means
the spirit of willfulness and obstina
cy which leads a boy or girl to de
spise good counsels and to say, ‘I’ll
do just as I’ve a mind to.’ That’s it.
The Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to.’ is a tig
ress indeed. It destroys a great
many children certainly.”
Then I thought of some of the
things the Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to
had done. I remembered Will Crus
ty, who was sent to mill one day by
his father with the horse and wagon.
As he left the dooryard his good fath
er said:
“Will, don’t ford the river to-day.
The water is too high. Go round
by the bridge.”
Will cracked his whip, and drove
off muttering: “I shall do just as I’ve
a mind to about that, old gentleman.”
Then he drove straight to the ford.
An old farmer saw him and shouted:
“Will, don’t cross the ford—tan’t
safe.
I shall do just as I’ve a miod to
about that, old gaffer,” said Will.
So he drove into the river at the
ford. But the water was very high,
the current was strong. The horse
lo3t his foothold and was carried in
to the deep water. Will was fright
ened, and falling into*the water, was
earned over the mill-dam and wash
ed to death among Ihe rocks. The
Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to killed as cer
tainly as any loose tigress would have
done.
Nor is Will the only boy which
this fierce creature has killed. Mil
lions—I mean millions—have been
ruined by it. It loves to drive chil
dren into ruin. Isn’t it a dreadful
creature?
You wouldn’t like to meet it, eh?
I suppose not. Yet I fear some of
you have met it and have even given
it a lodging in your bosoms—for
mark, the Just-as-I’ve-a-mind-to is
neither more nor less than a stub
born will in a child’s.heart.”
Important to Farmers.—Wo ob
tained some information the other
day, from the Deputy Collector of
Internal Revenue for this district,
which is of great importance to far-
mers. It is this: No man has a right
to keep liquor or tobacco on his
place, and deal it out to his hands,
charging them for it, without taking
out a license as a retailer. Any one
so doing makes himself liable to im
prisonment. We suppose a good
many farmers have done this, with
out intending to violate law—doubt
less thinking they could deal out
liquors and tobacco just as well as
•the:
other supplies. They should avoid
it hereafter, if they would save them
selves trouble.—La Grange Reporter.
The question, “will wasps freeze?”
has been decided by a Peoria man
who found one in a frozen nest one
day last week, and took the insect in
the house, and held it by the tail
while he warmed his ears over a gas
jet. You wouldn’t believe it, but
the Peoria naturalist says its tail
thawed out first, and while its head
was so stiff and icy it couldn’t wink,
its “probe” worked with inconceiva
ble rapidity, to the great distress of
the minister who was present, and
was dreadfully distressed by the
hideous profanity consequent on
each and every movement of the
probe aforesaid.
“I rise for information,” said one
of the dullest of the members of an
American legislature. “I am very
glad to hear it,” said one who was
leaning over the bar, “for no one
wants it more than yourself.” An
other member rose to speak on the
hill to abolish* capital punishment,
and commenced by saying:—Mr.
Speaker, the generality of mankind
in general are disposed to exercise
oppression on the generality of man
kind in general” “You had better
stop,” said one who was sitting near
enough to pull him by the coat tail;
Silent Lies.
There were prizes to be given in
Willie’s school, and he was very
anxious to merit one of them. As
Willie was young, he was behind
the other boys in all his studies ex
cept writing. And, as he had no
hope to excel in any thing but wri
ting, he made up his mind to try for
the special prize for that, with all
his might.. And he did try so that
his copy-book would have done hon
or to a boy twice his age. When
the prizes were awarded, the chair
man of the Committee held up two
copy-books, and said: “It would be
difficult to say which of these two
books is better than the other, but
for one copy in Willie’s, which is
not only superior to Charlie’s, but
to every other copy in the same
book. This copy therefore gains
the prize.
Willie’s heart beat high with hope,
which was not unmixed with fear.
Blushing to his temples, he said:
“Please sir, may I see that copy ?”
“Certainly,” replied the chairman,
looking somewhat surprised.
Willie glanced at the copy, and
then handing the book back, said:
“Please sir, that is not my writing.
It was written by an upper class
boy, who took my book by mistake
one day, instead of his own.”
“Oh, oh,” said the chairman, “that
may alter the case.” The two books
went back to the committee, who,
after comparing them carefully,
awarded the prize to Charlie. The
boys laughed at Willie. One said,
he was silly to say anything about
the mistake.
“I wouldn’t have told,” said an
other.
“Nor I,” added a third boy, laugh-
ing.
“The copy was in your book, and
you had a right to enjoy the benefit
of it.”
But in spite of all their quizzing,
Willie felt that he was right. “It
would not have been the truth,” he
replied, “if I had not told who wrote
the copy. I would rather hold fast
the truth than have apprize, for
truth is better than gold.”
“Hurrah for Willie!” “Three
cheers for Willie!” “Well done,
Willie!” shouted the hoys, and 'Wil
lie went home to his work happier
than he could have gone, if, by
means of a silent lie, he had won the
prize.—The Children's Friend.
Anecdote of Madame de Stael.
A country girl, the daughter of a
clergyman, had accidently met with
an English translation of “Delphine”
and “Corinne,” which so powerfully
affected her in her secluded life, as
to quite turn her brain; and hear
ing that Madame de Stael was in
London, she wrote to her, offering
to become her attendant or aman-
uensis.Madame de Stael’s secretary,
in a formal answer declined the pro
posal. But her admirer was so in
tent on being in her service in some
way, that she came up to London,
and stayed a few days with a friend,
who took her to the great novelist,
and, speaking in French, gave her
a hint of the young girl’s mind.
Madame de Stael, with great promp
titude and kindness, administered
the only remedy that was likely to
prove effectual. The girl almost
threw herself at her feet, and earn
estly begged to be received by her.
The Baroness very kindly, but de
cidedly, remomstrated with her on
the folly of her desire.
“You may think,” she said, “It is
an enviable lot to travel over Eu
rope and see all that is most beauti
ful and distinguished in the world;
but the joys of home are more solid;
domestic life affords more perma
nent happiness than any that fame
can give. You have a father; I
have none. You have a home; I
was driven from mine. Be content
with your lot; if you knew mine,
you would not desire it.” With such
admonitions she dismissed the pe
tition.
The cure was complete. The
young woman returned to her fath
er, became more steadily industri
ous, and without ever speaking of
adventure with Madame de Stael,
silently profited by it. She is now
living a life of great respectability,
and her friends consider that. her
cure was wrought by the only hand
by which it could have been effect
ed.—H. Crabbe Robinson's Diary.
“you had better stop you are coming
out of the same hole you went in at.”
A good story is told of an Irish
hostler who was sent to the stable
to bring forth a traveler’s horse.
Not knowing which of the two strange
horses in the stalls belonged to the
traveller, and wishing to avoid the
appearance of ignorance in his busi
ness, he saddled both animals and
brought them to the door. The trav
eller pointed out his own horse say
ing:
• “That’s my nag.
“Certainly, yer honor, I knew that
but I didn’t know which one o’ them
was the other gentleman’s.”
A writer asks, J in an agricultural
paper, if anyone can inform a poor
man the best way to start a nursery.
Certainly, get married.
Do not cherish your sorrows; when
God breaks your idols in pieces, it
is not for us to put the broken bits
together.
The Temptation.
“Shall I do it?” said a boy softly
to himself, as he stood before a bak
er’s window in a little town in the
western part of Missouri.
Very longingly did he look at the
bread, and cakes, and pies, that were
spread out in the window.
Poor fellow! He had been left an
orphan six months before, and the
pleasant home had been sold to pay
the debts of Ms father, and he had
been left penniless, to work his own
way through the world.
Until now, he had made a living,
but the man for whom lievhad work
ed bad failed, and be was left again
without home or money; no place to
rest his weary limbs; not a penny to
get something to eat.
He was very hungry, so hungry
that he felt dizzy-headed, and lean
ed against the railing as he looked
at the tempting food in the window.
Almost noon, and he had tasted noth
ing since the morning before, and
then but a crust.
He seemed to hear the low, sweet
voice of his mother, as she siad to
him on her dying bed, “Be honest, my
son—resist all temptations to take
what is not yonr own, and God will
provide food and friends.”
“I will suffer on,” he said out loud.
“Yes, I will suffer rather than steal—
but O, I am so hungry!”
I had been watching him with a
pitying eye, guessing the struggle of
his young heart. I stepped up now,
and said, kindly, “It’s most noon,
John—I’m going in to get something
to eat. Won<t you go with me?”
Come; I’ll treat this time.”
The tears came thicker and faster
now. He grasped my hand and sobb
ed out, “O Frank, Frank! I was go
ing to steal—but I couldn’t because
I remembered what she told me. But
O, I was so hungry!”
I took him and bought him all he
could eatj'then I divided my month’s .
wages with him; and afterwards hunt
ed up a place for him to earn Ms
bread at chores; and when Ileft him,
he promised me that he would always
remember Ms xnother’s words, trust
in God.—Guiding Star.
A Too Common Picture.
George TV. Curtis'draws a sad pic
ture of the lot of the farmer’s wife:
“I think of many and many a sad
eyed woman I have known in solita
ry country homes, who seemed nev
er to smile, who* struggled with hard
hands through melting heat and
pinching cold, to hold back poverty
and want, that hovered like wolves
about an ever-increasing flock of
childem. How it was scour in the
morning, and scrub at night, and
scold all day long! How care blurr
ed the* window like a cloud, Mding
the lovely landscape! How anxiety
snarled at her heels, dogging her
like a cur! How little she knew-or
cared that bobolinks, drunk with
blind idleness, tumbled and sang in
the meadows below, that the earth
was telling the time of the year, with
flowers in the wood above.”
We have seen such pictures as
Curtis paints, both in town and conn- .
try, for they are b) no means indig
enous to the latter. They are sad
wherever seen! But poverty and toil
in the country is far more endurable
than in town, because of the compen
sating influence of fresh air, song
birds and flowers; above all that liv
ing sympathy which goes out so free
ly from neighborly hearts in the coun
try, and which is almost wholly un
known in town, pride and selfishness
having crushed it out.
A young mother was in the habit
of airing the baby’s clothes at the
window; her husband didn’t like it,
and believing that if she saw her
practice as others saw it she would
desist, he so directed their after
noon walk as to bring the nursery
window in full view from the central
[ mrk of the town. Stopping abrupt-
y, he pointed to the offending linen
lapping unconsciously in the breeze,
and asked sarcastically: “My dear
what is that displayed in our window?
“Why,” she replied, “that is the
flag of our union.”
Conquered by this pungent retort,
he saluted the flag by a swing of his
hat, and pressing his wife’s arm clo
ser within his own, said, as they
walked homeward : “And long may-
it wave.”
‘Father, you wMppe
dav for biting Toi
id me the oth
er day for biting Tommy.” “Yes
my son, you hurt him, and I shall
always whip you for biting,
“Well, then, father, I wish you
sner,
would wMp sister’s music teacl
for he bit her on the mouth this morn
ing, and I know he hurt her a good
deal, for she put her arms around
his neck and tried to choke him.”
If you wish for a clear mind,
strong muscles, and quiet nerves—
for long fife 'power and prolonged
into old age—-avoid hit. drinks bat
water, and mild infusions of that
fluid; shun tobacco and opium, and
everything else that disturbs the
normal state of the system.
He thftt arms his intentions- with
virtue, is invincible.
jail