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T jj. c,. MEDLOCK'.' ETHBO ARLINE. R, L. RODGERS
jv Hcillock, Ariiae A Itoili'crs:
XiiE Herald is published in Sandersviile,
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POETRY.
EJHic l.rowH filamts.
drive home the cows from the pasture,
through the long, shady lane
C quail whistles loud in the wheat-
■ ids '
. Ihnv with ripening grain.
r: hi the iiiiek, waving grasses,
V, hew the scarlet-lipped strawberry grows;
r ;d!,er the earliest snow-drops.
Vu-i the first crimson buds of the rose.
Tin v toss the new hay in the meadow ;
•flu: v gather the elder-bloom white ;
They iind where the dusky grapes purple
In the soft-tinted October light.
Thev know where the apples hang ripest,
And sweeter than Italy wines ;
Thcv know where the fruits hang the thickest
On the long, thorny blackberry vines.
Thev gather the delicate sea-weeds,
Ami build tiny castles of sand ;
They pick up the beautiful sea-shells—
Fairy barks that have drifted to land.
They wave from the tall, rooking tree-tops
Where the oriole’s hammock nest swings,
And at night-time are folded in slumber
Bv a song that a fond mother sings.
Those who toil bravely are strongest;
The humble and poor become great;
Ami from these brown-handed children
Shall grow might rulers of state.
The pen of tin? author and statesman—
The noble and wise of the land—
The loving and motherly woman,
Who’ll wisely mold all with her hand.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
A PLACE OF SAFETY.
BY A. F. HILL.
Will Snider and I were boys of
sixteen and seventeen years, respect
ively, when it came in our way to
render the community a great ser
vice. We were employed in a store
in the village of Brownfield, ill Wes
tern Pennsylvania. It was an ordi
nary country store, in which we
kept for sale not only salt, calico and
laudantim, but also hams, satin vests,
shovels and gunpowder.
Will and I both slept in the store,
a precaution against burglars—who
visited our section about onceYa, ev
en- three hundred years—while/ we
hoarded in the family of the propri
etor.
If I am correct in my estimate of
the periodical visits of burglars to
our quiet neighbliood, they porbably
came about the year 1556; for it was
in 1856 that they paid us the visit
in connection with which "Will Snider
and I did the public some service.
During the summer of that year,
a number of mysterious robberies
were perpetrated in various villages
within a radius of forty miles of
Brownfield, country merchants being
the victims. In every case the rob
bers seemed to gain an entrance by
a window, which, however securely
fastened, they managed . in Some
mysterious way to open.
The stores were generally sup
plied w ifh safes, whose doors were
secured by ordinary locks, and the
robber:- opened them as ;asily, ap
parently as they would have opened
a kitchen door with a wooden latch.
As banking was not then much in
vogue in that vicinity, they were
generally rewarded by spoils am out
ing to from five hundred to two thou
sand dollars.
Some one usually slept in these
stores, yet the sleeper was never wak-
ened or disturbed by the robbers.
On the contrary, he slept more heav
ily than usual on the night of the rob
bery, and awoke later than usual in
the morning, feeling dull and stupid.
One day, late in the summer, two
traveling merchants—Messrs. AY olf
and Dodge—came to Brownfield, as
they had frequently done before du
ring several years past, and stopped
at the tavern; and after dinner they
drove to our store, to sell us some
goods, if possible. They had an or
dinary peddler’s wagon, drawn by
two line horses, and their stock con
sisted of fine goods and jewelry,
which they sold at wholesale rates to
country merchants.
On this occasion, Mr. Clare, the
proprietor of our store, puchased a
little bill of fancey goods, which he
thought he should need before going
to the cities for his fall stock.
When this was done, Mr. Wolf
said:
]‘Now, can’t we sell you some jew
elry?”
“Doubtful,” replied Mr. Clare.
“Y\ e have very little call tor, jewelry
in this agricultural country.”
“Well, we’ll show you a part of
our stock, anyhow,” saic^Mr. Wolf.
He then unlocked a compartment
of the wagon, and drew forth a large
trunk, which, with the assistance ot
Mr. Dodge, he carried into the store.
This he opened, and made a hand
some display of watches, breastpins
and rings; and Mrs. Clare did finally
consent to buy a few gold rings,. af
ter which they closed the trunk with
out locking it.
“That is a valuable trunk, Mr.
Clare remarked.
“Yes,” replied My. Wolf, “and we
don’t feel quite easy carrying it
around through the country. We
hear that there have been some rob
beries in this neighborhood lately.”
‘Wes, quite a number,” said Mr.
Clare.
“We parsed two suspicious-look
ing fellows on the road this morning,”
remarked Mr. Dodge.
“Ah, where?” asked Mr. Clare,
with interest. ■
“About five miles from here. They
eyed us so sharply that I have not
felt quite easy since, although I didn’t
dell Wolf so.”
“Were they afoot ?” '*
“Yes; and they carried outlandish-
looking bundles.”
“Suppose,” suggested Mr. Wolf,
“that we leave our jewelry in your
store to-night,*Mr. Clare? I think, in
case there are robbers about it would
be safer here than at the tavern.”
“Certainly, if you wish. We lock
up here very securely; and I know
you may trust the boys,” said Mr.
Clare laughing.
“You had better lock the trunk
carefully, then,” I said, in a mischiev
ous spirit, “for I feel sorely tempted
to take one of those gold watches;
and as for Will Snyder there, he has
had his eye on them ever siuce you
came.”
“I don’t know,” - observed Mr.
Dodge ; “he looks the more innocent
of the two.”
With this the trunk was locked,
and Will and I carried it to a corner
of the store, where we carefully
stowed it.
“We want to go to Geneva in the
morning,” said Mr. Wolf, alluding to
a village six miles distant; “but we
won’t start before nine o’clock. So,
if you want anything more from our
stock, we can accommodate you be
fore going.”
“All right,” replied Mr. Clare.
And going to bis safe, behind the
old-fashioned counter, he took out
some money, and paid for the ar
ticles he had just purchased.
Then the itenerant merchant walk
ed out and drove back to the tavern.
When Will and I closed the store
that night, at about nine o’clock, we
fastened the doors and window-shut
ters with unusual care, both because
of" the extra treasure we guarded
and the report that suspicious per-
' sons had been seen on the road.
Our bedding was stowed away un
der the counter, and we brought it
forth and put- it in shape as usual. It
was our custom to place it on several
boxes grouped together; and on this
occasion we placed the valuable
trunk among them, feeling sure that
no one could run ofl with it while
we were lying on it.
It was fortunate that we did so.
How long I had been asleep I do not
know; but I do know that when I
awoke I felt the firm grasp of a hand
on my arm.
Perfect darkness reigned in the
building, and the silence was broken
only by the dismal ticking of the
clock.
My first thought was of robbers,
and ray first impulse to seize the ag
gressive hand and engage in a des
perate struggle. I had barely time
to think, however, when a low voice
—I recognized it as AY ill s—said in
my ear : -
“Cal! Cal! are you awake?
It was his hand that grasped my
‘ arm.
“Yes,” I returned, stratenmg up.
“What is the matter ?”_
“There is somebody in the cellar.
“How do you know?”
“I am sure I heard voices. Listen!”
We sat breathless upon our pri
mitive couch, trying in vain to pen
etrate the gloom, hearing only the al
most painful ticking of the clock and
the beating of our own hearts.
These were the only sounds for a
few seconds, but presently there came
up from beneath a low, half-smother
ed cry of distress. .
“Do you hear that?” Will Snider
whispered. }j
“Yes; it is in the cellar.
We remained silent for some se
conds, a nervous shiver running
through my frame, and a cold per
spiration standing on my face. I liad
never experienced so strange and un-
comfortable a feeling. ... .
A smothered cry was again heard
beneath us—certianly in the cellar—
and it was followed by several taint
raps, apparently on the floor.
Had I been alone I think I must
have been paralyzed with teror; and,
there was something so strange about
lL Will got out of bed noiselessly and
lit a candle. It sent a dull, sick y
light through the store, and I ureacl-
ed lest some menacing foe should
come, like a ghostly shadow, stalking
forth from the gloom:
“Let us go down into the eellar,
said Will. , .,
I arose to go with him out hesita-
1 “These sounds may be intended to
decoy us into the cellar, where some
ruffians may stand ready to set upon
us. I said. .. i
There was another low wail, and
several louder raps. Will had start
ed toward the cellar-way carrying
the candle in one hand, while with
the other he grasped a large double
barrelled pistol, which we kept for
defensive operations, in the event of
a siege by burglars; but he now re
turned to where I stood, near our
; bed. His face was as white as mine
I probably was.
“Hello! Look there!” heexclaim-
I ed, excitedly, pointing to the bed.
i I looked and saw our matress,
j blankets and quilts, surging to and
fro, and moving up and down, as
| though a small earthquake had got
j under them to have some fun; and
| finally they slid from their place, and
uncovered the valuable trunk. Then
there was a tumult somewhere about
the trank, the lid suddenly reared
up, and displayed—not the rich jew
elry we had seen when it was last
closed, but a most villainous and re
pulsive looking face, which popped
up as though at the bidding of an ex
orcist.
“My God, ITn smothered!” came
from the face, intermingled with a
succession of short gasps; and a
small man—the owner of the coun-
| tenance—straggled up out of the
; trunk and fell over upon the floor
j like one utterly exhausted. .
As he did so, a revolver fell from
his pocket, and I snatched it up. ,
“Villain!” I said, Savagely. “What
are you doing here ?”
“Oh, oh ! don’t kill me !” he gas
ped, rising to a sitting posture.
“I will,” I said cocking the revol
ver, “if you don’t this instant tell
me how yon came here. How did
yon get in that trunk ?”
He hesitated, trembling all over
with terror.
“I think we had better shoot him,”
said AVill, leveling his pistol. “He
would have murdered us.”
“Oh, don’t!” the wretch gasped.
“I wouldn’t have killed you. I was
only going to rob the store. Oh, I
was nerly smothered in there!”
“How came you there ?• Out with
it! A single lie, a moment’s hesita
tion, and I will shoot!” and AATll
looked particularly fierce as he stood
there in his nightshirt, pointing the
big pistol at the robber.
“It’s all up with me,” whined the
latter, speaking with a more ease,
but not trying to get upon his feet,
“and I may as well confess. I’m
Wolf and Dodg’s man. They put
me in there to rob the safe. But
you went and put your bed on it, so
that I could not get out; and some
how I couldn’t open the air-hole only
a little way.”
“Do you mean to say that Wolf
and Dodge are robbers ?”
“Yes. How could I get into their
trunk unknown to them!”
“Cal,” said Will, “watch the fellow
and keep him here while I go for Mr.
Clare. If he offers to get up, shoot
him!”
“That I will,” said I, , trying to
look very bloodthirsty.
Mv companion placed the candle
on the counter, drew on his clothes,
unlocked'one of the doors and went
out leaving me alone with the rob
ber. The latter seemed thoroughly
cowed. Once he made a slight mo
tion as if to rise, when I said:
“If you do!”
“I’m not going to,” he whined, and
he presented a very ridiculous figure,
sitting there fiat on the floor, while
I held the muzzle of the revolver
close to his ear.
In five minutes Will Snider return
ed with Mr. Clare, when the robber
made a full confession, and promised
to turn State’s evidence against his
confederates, in the hope of being
mercifully dealt with.
From this confession it seemed
that Wolf and Dodge, the reputed
traveling-merchants, were the auth
ors of the recent robberies in neigh
boring villages, and their plan of op
erations was most ingenious. It was
to leave their trank for safe-keeping
in the store they wished to rob; hav
ing previously concealed in it, under
the compartment containing the jew
elry this skillful little cracksman.
When the lid was shut down, a
spring-lock firmly secured it to the
shallow compartment containing the
jewelry, but the letter was easily de
tached from the walls of the trunk
by the person within, and lifted up
with the lid. This our wiry prison
er did at the proper time, when his
first work was to stupify any one who
might happen to sleep in the store ,
with chloroform. Next, by the light j
of a dark lantern, he took cunning j
instruments from the trunk and pick- j
ed the safe-lock. He would then re- i
move all the money from the safe to
the trunk, and having opened a win- ,
dow, to leave the impression that rob- j
bers had got in by that means, he |
would return to his trunk and fasten
himself in. In the morning, Wolf
and Dodge would come for their
trunk. They would hear of the rob
bery, and express the deepest sym
pathy for the unsuspecting merch
ant ; would hope the fobber had not
been at their trunk; would hasten
to it and open it, in their way, dis
playing the jewelry as on the previ
ous dav, and express joy that the
burglars had not touched then prop
erty. Thus, traveling as peddlers,
thev* had been operating all the sum
mer, and had accumulated nearly
thirty thousand dollars by these au
dacious thefts.
When our prisoner had frankly
told us all this, I went and waked up
the constable—a powerful and fear
less man—and conducted him to the
scene, where he assumed charge of
the robber. Having bound him so
as to render him helpless, and hav
ing earnestly promised to shoot him
should he attempt to escape, we car
ried him to the cellar, from which
there was no means of egress except
through the store; and the cellar-way
was vigilently guarded during the
rest of the night. ~'
We did not disturb the slumbers
of Messrs. AYolf and Dodge, and in
the morning they came to the store,
after eating a hearty breakfast, look
ing smiling, cheerful and happy. Mr.
Clare, the constable, Will Snider and
I received them, and after a pleas
ant good-morning Air. Clare said:
“I have sad news to tell you.”
“What ?” both asked, in a breath,
with an air of great interest.
“My store has been visited by rob
bers.”
“What!” Gracious heavens, did
they get at our trunk!” Air. Wolf
exclaimed, and he fairly flew to the
trunk, followed by Mr. Dodge, and
unlocked it.
“Safe, thank heaven!” ejaculated
Air. Wojf.
“Safe, thank heaven!” echoed Mr.
Dodge.
“Safe, thank heaven!” reiterated
the constable, seizing each firmly by
the collar. “Yes, safe for the next
twenty years. .Oh, you robbers!”
They saw in an instant that the}'
were caught; both turned deathly
pale, and struggled to free them
selves; hut the constable held them
as if they had been kittens, and giv
ing them a violent shake, said:
“Don’t try to escape, or I’ll snap
your heads off with a jerk !”
I then lifted up the jewelry com- j
partment of the trank, and disclosed !
a dark lantern, a bottle of cliloro- j
form, and divers burglars instru
ments.
“You see, we know the whole,” I
said. j
Air. Clare and Will Snider then
went into the cellar, and brought up I
our prisoner.
“Dodge,” said AY oh, with an air ,
rendered calm by very desperation, j
“it’s all up with tls!”
And so it was. Alithe robberies j
were traced to them, and enough ;
was proved against them to have I
sent them, had the}- been sentenced
in each case, to prison for two hun
dred and fifty years. As it was,
Wolf and Dodge were sentenced for
eighteen years each, while their ac
complice—the gentleman who lived
in a trunk—was mercifully let off
with a seven years sentence, on ac
count of his testifying gainst them.
The affair was a lucky one for
Will and me. It not only made
lions of us, but it brought us hand
some presents from merchants for
miles around, who had been robbed,
and through our entrapping of Wolf
and Dobge, recovered nearly all their
uioncy. AYolf died in prison, but
the other two served out their terms ;
and went forth into the world again j
—I know not where.
Esquire.
The present use of the distinction.
“Esquire,” conveys not the slighest
idea of its origin or appropriation, in
past ages. The esquire originated in
chivalric times, when sons of gentle
men, from the age of seven years,
were brought up in the castles of su
perior lords—which was an inestima
ble advantage to the poorer nobility,
who could hardly otherwise have
given their children the accomplish
ments of their station. From seven
to fourteen, these boys were called
pages or valets; at fourteen they
bore the name of esquire. They
were instructed in the management
of arms, in the art of horsemanship,
in -exercise of strength and activity,
so as to fit them for tournament and
battle, and the milder glories of chiv
alrous gallantry.
Long after the decline of chivalry the
word, esquire was only used in a
limited sense, for the sons and peers
of knights, or such as obtained the
title by creation or some other legal
means. Blackstone defines esquires
to be all who bear office of trust un
der the crown, and who are styled
esquires by the king in their com
missions and appointments ; and
being once honored by the king with
the title of esquire, they have a right
to that distinction for fife.
It is touching in the extreme to
read such obituary notices as the fol
lowing:
Stranger, pause—
My*tale attend,
And learn the cause
Of Hannah’s end.
Across the world
The wind did blow.
She ketched a cold
What laid her low,
We shed a quart
Of tears, ’tis true,
But life is short—
Aged 82.”
And thus is a flood of light thrown
upon the oft-repeated question as to
what- was the matter with Hannah.
Dick’s Prayer.
Dick stood in the doorway the
chill breeze raising his hair.
“Looks like a storm,” he solilo
quized. “I’ve a. mind to carry Aunt
“Manda’s basket over now Tore sup
per.”
“Perhaps you’d better,” his moth
er said, cutting the pie in nine pieces
for the nine little Garys and giving
Dick his; ‘better start right off.
Them cloud banks over there looks
like snow.
Aunt ‘Manda,- as Dick had called
her although she bore no kind of re
lationship to the Garys, lived about
two miles distant. Tfiat is, two miles
by the main road. But Dick, when
he saw how black and thick the storm
was gathering around him, resolved
to cut across, thus shortening the
distance considerably.
Buttoning his jacket tight around
him and tying purple comforter over
his ears, the brave little fellow start
ed out. The wind whistled and tore
away with all its strength at his wrap
pings, but he kept manfully on his
way. At last the storm came.
“AVTiew,” thought Dick, as he he
plunged along,” this isn’t as comfor
table as it might be.”
The driving particles of sleet, sharp
as needles, stung his face ; the snow
coming still thicker and faster, al
most blinded him, filling his eyes,
sifting in among the folds of his
muffler.
“ ’Pears to me I ought to be most
there,” he said at last, straining his
eyes in vain to 'discover some old
land mark. Everything was so
strange. Chilled through and
through, he wandered on, now stumb
ling, falling among the drifts of snow.
Dick was lost.
And Dick knew he was lost. He
thought he was going to freeze, and
falling on his knees, he asked God
to guide him, and that if it should
be His will that he should never see
his dear home again, to take him to
Himself in heaven. Then got up
and staggered forward. His shoul
der <jame in contact with a sharp
corner, his foot tripped and he fell
again, down, down against some
thing soft and warm. A delicious
sense of comfort stole over him, and
he remembered nothing more.
“An awful storm, wife,” said Mr.
Gary, coming in from the bam. “I
almost failed to get here. The horses
—where’s Dick?” looking around
the room.
“He went over to Aunt ’Manda’s
better than an hour ago,” replied
the wife, looking worried. “I wish
you and Sam would go after him.”
“Pooh! he’s all right. Probably
Aunt Manda wouldn’t let him come
home, it stormed so. He’ll do well
enough. I’ll risk him.”
And with that comforting reflection,
Mr. Gary posted off to bed.
However the conviction that Dick
was “all right” could not prevent anx
ious feelings on his account, and did
not deter Mr. Gary from going
straight across to Aunt ’Manda’s the
next morning after him. Great was
the consternation when it was found
that Dick had not been there at all.
Mr. Gary at once instituted a
search in which all the neighbors
joined. High and low they looked,
but no traces of the missing boy could
be found. At last Mr. Gary spied
what appeared to be a little ham
mock of snow just at the edge of the
woods. i
“Frye’s old root cellar,” said a man
to whom lie pointed it out! “Like as
not the boy got in there.” *
Mr. Gary shook his head sadly,
going toward the mound. Stooping |
low, he peeped into the darkness and I
his face became white as death.
“Sh-sh,” he said, holding up his hand !
and motioning back the men follow
ing him.' • |
“What’s the matter, Gary ? You
look as if you had seen a ghost,” said
Air. Baker leaning forward.
“O, my!” he exclaimed. ' *
There was Dick, his head resting
on the shaggy coat of a huge black
bear, fast asleep. Mr. Baker’s cry
woke him, and with a shout he bound
ed into his father’s arms, the bear
making no resistance. Some of the
men wanted td kill th6 creature, but
Air. Gary would not allow it. He had
saved Dick’s life, and should not lose
his own. ’ >
Of course Dick was scolded, and
kissed and cried over, and made to j
tell his story over again. But he al- ■
ways declared it was his prayer that j
did it all; for if he hadn’t stopped to ,
pray, he should have gone right away I
from the cellar.
“But Dick,” his father would say,
“it the bear hadn’t been there, you
would have frozen surely.”
“Well, father, I ’spose God put
him there, and sent His angel to push
me right against him.—Addie Corle-
ton.
Here is another, awful example for
the anti-tobacco-men. At Columbus,
Ohio, a bank robber had successfully
broken in and entered, when he
couldn’t resist the temptation of tak
ing a pinch of snuff. His sneeze
betrayed his presence; and they
don’t allow snuff in the penitentiary,
either.
From the St. Louis Dispatch]
Tom Benton’s Family.
“Baron Boileau, who was sentenc
ed to imprisonment by the French
court for liis connection with the
Memphis and El Past) railroad affair,
is confined in the Conciegerie at Paris.
Mme. Boilieau is at Boulogne. She
and six children live through the
generosity of their friends.” To
many people of Missouri, this brief
paragraph will convey more than a
passing interest. Nine or ten yeai’s
ago Baron Boileau was the French
consul at New York city, trusted and
respected by the government, and
papular and accomplished in his in
tercourse with the people of America.
He married, while consul at New
York, Susan, daughter of Col. T. H.
Benton. The marriage was .a most
happy one. Baron Boileau was af
terwards appointed Minister to Ecu
ador, and it was while performing
the functions of his office in that
locality that he was called and dis
charged by the French authorities.
During his stay in New York he had
become involved in railroad schemes,
and had been induced in an evil hour
to recommend, in his capacity as an
How to be Happy.
I will give yon two or three rules
which may help you to become hap
pier than you would be without know
ing them; but as to being complete
ly happy, that you can never be till
yon get to heaven.
The first is: “Try your best to make
others happy.” “I never was happy,”
said a certain king, “till I began to
take pleasure in the welfare of my
people; but ever since then, in. the
darkest day, I have had sunshine in
ioy heart.”
My second rule is: “Be content
with little.” There are many good
reasons for this rale. A Ye deserve
but little, we require but little, and
“better is little, with the fear of God,
than great treasures and trouble
therewith.”
Two men were determined to be
rich, but they set about it in different
ways. The one strove to raise up
his means to his desires, while the
other did his best to bring bis desires
down to his means. The result was
that the one who coveted much was
always repining, while he who desir
ed but little was always contented.
My third rale is: “Look on the
official agent of the government, the | sunny side of things,
negotiation of the El Paso railroad
bonds. In this he violated the plain
law of his country. Bigid in all
such matters, the French Govern
ment carried on t the law to its utmost , , , „ . , „ ~
and imprisoned him. Fremont is lark, and the leaping fish tell us that
the brother-in-law of the Baron and | happiness is not confined to one place
the same court which tried and found ^ od ■“ lns goodness has spread it
Look up with hopeful eyes,
Though all things seem forlorn:
The sun that sets to-night will rise,
Again to-morrow morn.
The skipping lamb, the singing
his connection guilty also sentenced
the General to serve a term of years.
He made good his escape from
France, however, and, in the absence
of anything like an extradition treaty,
will probably keep it good. There
was once a period in the affairs ■ of
abroad on earth, in the air, and in
the waters. Two aged women lived
in the same cottage. One was always
bearing a storm, and the other was
always looking for sunshine. Hard
ly need I say which it was that wore
a forbidding aspect or which it was
» U.O WliLL (t 17C11UU 111 I'llC (Uiclll O -j n 1*i!i q ,
Missouri when Colonel Benton was ? llose ace w as itened up with
its political autocrat. Troubles not * ^ ^ ■
Force of Habit Strong in Death.
The friends of an old sport hit
a few have come to those whom he
nurtured and loved. Airs. Fremont
is the wife of a man who has been
declared nr felon, because of a specu
lation which has rained his brother-
in-law, bankrupted his family, aud
consigned his wife and children to
charity. Another daughter, Mrs.
AY in. Caiy Jones, now a widow, re
siding in San Francisco, California,
has felt almost terribly the misfor
tune of life, and, though not endur
ing all the privations of extreme
poverty, is supporting herself and
children on the small wages paid to
her as a teacher in the public schools.
.Mark Twain’s Lecture on Women.
Afer a lengthy, and of course hu
morous lecture upon AYMman, inLon-
don, lately, Mark seems to have for
gotten himself and wound up in this
wise:
“I will not call the mighty roll; the
names rise up in your own memories
at the mere suggestion, luminous with
the glory of deeds that cannot die,
hallowed by the loving worship of
the good and true of all epochs and
upon the following expedient of ef
fecting his reformation: Having a
couple of coffins prepared and placed
in the family vault, on his being
brought home one night in a sense
less condition, they conveyed him
thither and stowed him snugly away
in one of them; a member of the
family occupying the other to watch
his movements. After remaining
for some time encased in his “prison
house,” he aroused from his stupor,
and in astonishment at his new resi
dence, exclaimed:
“Am I dead?”.
“Certainly,” replied the person in
the other coffin.
“How long have I been dead?” he
asked.
“About three yea>s,” was the an
swer.
“And how long have you been
Tiere?” he again enquired.
“Seven years,” responded his com
panion.
“Well, as you have been dead lon
ger than I have, I suppose, you
know the best place where a man
of all climes. [Cheers.] Suffice it for
our pride ahd honor that we in our can get something to drink!
day have added to it feuch names as ! , , m , .
those of Grace Darling and Florence j a Sagaciuos Dog.—The Portland,
Nightengale. [Cheers.] AA oman is , (Me.) Advertiser reports that as agen-
all that she should be—gentle, pati- ; (leman was’ walking down Temple
ent, long-suffering, trustful, unselfish j stl . e et, in that city, on Monday, he
dropped oh« of his mittens down a
grating by. the Adams House, and as
it was an okl one he thought he
would leave it, and walked along. In
a moment he felt the cold nose of a
dog touch his hand, aud looking down
saw a Newfoundland dog looking up
in his face. Paying no attention he
passed along, but had not proceeded
far when the dog touched him again.
A third time this was repeated, when
a hackihan sang, put, “You’ve lost
something and that dog wants you.
to go and get it.” The gentleman re
traced Ids steps, recovered his mit
ten, and the dog. was satisfied.
full of generous impulses. It is her
blessed mission t6 comfort the suffer
ing, plead for the erring, encourage
the faint of purpose, succor the dis
tressed, uplift the fallen, befriend the
friendless—in a word, afford the heal
ing of her sympathies, and a home in
her heart for all the braised aud per
secuted children of misfortune that
knock at its hospitable door. [Cheer]
And when I say ‘God bless her,’ there
is none among us who lias known the
ennobling affection of a wife or the
steadfast devotion of a mother but
in his heart will say ‘Amen.’ (Loud
and prolonged cheering.]
The Columbus Enquirer fathers
this: There is a station on the Sel
ma and Aleridian Railroad named
Cuba. A few nights since, as the
train, with an emigration agent and
a crowd of freedmen going AVest,
reached this point, the brakesman
put his head inside the car door, and
sung out, “Cuba !” One old darkey
rose, and as his wool straightened out
said: “Dar! ’fore God, I kuow’d it!
Heah we is in Cuba, an’ dat’ar white
man gwine to put us in de war, or
sell us ’fore day. Oof! I’so gwiae
from heah.” And he, with about
thirty more, leaped off into the woods,
leaving the agent to use big “enss
words” about Cuba, brakesman, and
the uncertainty of the “nigger.”
Highly Indorsed.—A colored min
ister, who lives in an adjoining coun
ty, in writing to a friend here about
the decease of a relative, says:. “De
poor fellow is gonq. I preached his
funeral. He was onfce’t a- sinner, but
died a Christian, and 1 darefore re
commend the insurance company to
pay his policy.—Columbus Enquieer.
Bishop Hall said: “I would rather
suffer a thousand wrongs than, offer
one. I have always found that to
strive with a superior is injurious;
with an equal doubtful;, with an in
ferior sordid and base; with any,
full of unquietness*!’ -
Among the thousands who wear
alpaca cloth very few know what ifc
is made of. Tfie alpaca goat is- a
species of the liaina, whose home is.
in the mountains of Peru. It lives
on the-coarsest fare, the scanty herb
age of the rocks, and has a beautiful
U'avy coat of light chestnut-browm
wool, wiiich is nearly a foot in length,
very soft and elastic, and nearly as.
fine asthat of the Cashmere goat. This-
is sheared off and sent to England^,
where it is sorted, woven, dyed, steam
ed, signed and tuniedfinto tire mar
ket. _
The Grangers in Oglethorpe re
cently adopted the following: Re
solved, That we respectfully ask our-
representatives in the Legislature,.at-
its next session, to fise their utmost-
efforts to have the statutory laws:
giving.liens on growing crops of all.
kinds and for fertilizers, repealed;.to-
take effect immediately after its pass
age. ^
An. Indiana editor remarks: “If.*
you can’t bring us wood, remember
us in your prayers. It is something
to know, as we sit and shiver, thafc.
we are not forgotten, if the stove is.
cold.”
Philadelphia has 50 B a p t i si?,
churches, the last one having
organized a few days ago..
