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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