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McDuis Weekly JomuL Subscription SI.OO A Year. An X oppwite your name aho that youi •übecription is abdiit 10 exp.re, ant i.; not re* newed. your paper will be disoantipued. No Leg 1 Adrcrisemtnt will be ina r.ed un. la. 8 paid for in adrauc*. i The Ikiiior is not tbe state men - * or opiu ou# cf JOH®M. CURTIS, AND DEALBR IN ALL KINDS Or — mam m iiim-iimhi goods, BUGGIES, CARRIAGES, WAGONS, &C. All Repairing Promptly done and at Reasonable Rates, Blacksinithing in all its branches. UNDERTAKING. HEARSE till be tent to any part of th* * owu or Country at Reason* ' 3B"U iaiJLXj Suitable For Males or Females, Old or Yount;, J. M. CURTIS, Thomson. Ga, THE KNOX HOTEL, THOMSON, GEORGIA. jIITUATED in the heart of town, within 100 yards of the dep it, postoffics and office. Rooms larg\ well furnithetl and comfortablo, and the table supplietl with th©V£i;r Bif Faiie to be obtained in the market*. travelers |POB PRINTING OF t EVERY DESCRIPTION NEATLY EXECUTED AT THIS OFFICE. Orders Will Receive Prompt Attention I _ GIVE US A TRIAL! advertise now. fVe wiil insert you a nice, well-displayed ad artisement at as low rates as any first-class paper can afford to do. Advertising rates made known on application. <LI)c illcXhtffic Mlccklij Journal. ■HHjlffcparfd for them, YMbkcwy con lil*r Simp uua • larg • P>QM, > 1" U.e., where samples of ■ffrously displayed free of cllnrg. /V I’ 1 1 Y SSTA lir.l j, where ihe servant, ere polite, respect- patrons the KNOX HOTEL any other hotel on theOeirgtu Railroad. I'- KNOX. rVonriet.oi*. ARK WALTER, LE WORKS |TRBET, K ran I,r>WE* M4KKKT, LUGIJSTA, GEORGIA. ■pc- ud Marble Work generally always on hand and HOor (he country carefully boxed, and delivered tit (re. of charge. Specimens of the work can lie KE & CO., WUUDB - Hquors, Cigars, Tobacco and KR/IISS. I'd. AucuarA, or.onniA m MERCIE’R, m\Mn\ Cinissioi lerctet, BVarren lilock. fSTAi CxEQRGIA [Undivided Attention to tbe Weighing and Selling o .w.a! t'aih tuad. <■„ r nrneni. VOL. XVII. The little persimmon-tree. A little persimmon-tree stood in the road, Oh fair to see! tike Topsy it “never was born but it growed,’’ This little persimmon-tree. By soft winds nurtured, by sweet dews fed, ’ tta bright leaves trembled in constant dread, Lest some wicked caitiff should cut off its head, Poor little persimmon-tree! “It has corner’ said the little tree, one day,.. Oh fair to see! “Good-by, oh bonny blue sky, for aye,” Sad little persimmon-tree! For a man dug round it with might and main, Till it nearly died with the terrible strain, And feared it should never look up again, Poor little persimmon-tree! But it woke next morn in a garden grand, Oh fair to see! And it felt the touch of a master's liana, This little persimmon- tree J Budding from Japanese seedlings rare, Cutting skilfully here and there, Till the little tree marveled how much it could bear, Dear little persimmon-tree! Years passed—it had grown to a goodly height, Oh fair to see! • And the crimson fruit was a woudrous sight, On this stately persimmon-tree, And it blushed when tho master its story told, And said ’twas to him worth its weight in gold, And had paid for his labor a hundred-fold, This noble persimmon-tree! I could point a moral, but is there need? Oh fair to see! And a moral some people don’t care to read, Whether of man or tree. But you understand, if you don’t, I do, That a little, unlovely child to view, Can with culture become quite as wise as you, And even more fruitful l>e. •"•Mary .4. Denison , in Youth's Companion. FORTUNES FAVORITE. He was a happy-go-lucky fellow, my Uncle, Colonel Edouard Griffard. He was ever ready to risk his life, to take any chance, and chance seemed always to favor him. Among his comrades he was known as Fortune's favorite. At the age of forty he was Colonel of a regiment of Hussars, and an olHcer ok tho Legion of Honor. He had an in come of six to !i\ P"MI i- Mil 1; MM l.'yll :•. ' 1 :mi fine ai-’.l. Hi , ueci'i mur the fatigues and pmmions of a cam paign, and enjoying to their full the pleasures-nnd advantages of life in garri -1011. Ho had fought in the Crimea, in Africa, Italy and Mexico, escaping with only two insignificant scratches. He had an iron constitution, that enabled him to endure suffering that would have killed an ordinary man. Such was my uncle Edouard when, in 1869, it was our fortune to be in camp together at Chalons, where his regiment, which had been decimated by yellow fever, had been ordered. He was not more than six years my senior, and he loved me as though I was a younger brother. One day I was dining at his mess, and while we were over our coffee the Sergeant entered and handed him a letter. He looked at the superscription and knitted his brow s, and a shadow- seemed to flit over his handsome face. “Excuse me,” he said. He tore open the envelope, from which fell the photograph of a young woman. With a quick movement he picked up the photograph, and gazed at it a moment with a look of admiration. Then, hand ing it to me, he said: “It is Suz.anne. She is right, poor girl. I ought to have informed her of my ar rival.” Then he handed me the letter, sayiug: “What progress she has made 1” “.Why, of course!” I replied, “she is seventeen years old( you forget that.” I read the letter, which was as follows: Oka k Guaruian —ls it right for you to act thus toward a poor little prisoner who has only you in the world arid who loves you so much? Only one paltry letter since your departure for Mexico! And I have had to re* eeive from one of the Sisters of the Convent the news of your return to Prance. For the pset eight days every time I have heard the bell announcing the arrival of a visitor I have thought it was you who had come to seo me. But I was always mistaken. The visit was always for some of the other girls, sisters of the officers who have made this campaign with you—this campaign during which I have wearied heaven with prayers for your protection. Fortunately 1 shall pass a part of my vacation with your Bister. Come and see me at her house, and sacrifice a little of your time to your little Susanna.” From that time my uncle was not the jovial man he had formerly been. Whe he received that letter it was nearly time for the summer vacation, and his Bister, my aunt, had invited Mile. Su lanne to spend it with her and her daughters. “Ah! yes, they make rapid progress, these young girls! The little girl who was lank and awkward in short skirts, whose complexion was dingy and whose hands were red, becomes a beautiful se ductive creature, with golden hair and a sylph-like form, like that of Psyche, an incarnation of the spirit of spring time. We both obtained leave of absence in order that we might visit my aunt, who had a beautiful estate in the valley of Chevreuse. Soon after our arrival at my aunt’s home I noticed that whenever my uncle was in the presence of Suzanne he was cold and reserved. At times he would pass his hand over his forehead, as though his thoughts troubled him. Every morn ing by 5 o’clock he was on horseback, and it was often 10 before he returned, his horse always showing signs of having been ridden hard. Suzanne's position was well known in the family. An old friend of my uncle, a Captain in the Third Cuirassiers, had, on his death-bed, named him in his will as the guardian of his daughter Suzanne, then a girl of eight years, a pupil in a con vent. THOMSON, GA., FRIDAY, MAY 31, 1889. One morning my uncle aroused me early. Two saddled horses were waiting for us, and I accompanied him in his daily ride. Wc were riding side by side when, sud denly turning toward me, he said: “Why do you not marry?” I laughed and repll : “Because I have not eared to do so. And you? “Ah, I? lam too old. What do you think of Suzanne? “She is one of the most beautiful and fascinating girls I have ever met.” “Very well, I wish you to marry her.” I looked him full in the eyes. He was confused. “That is not true,” I said. “You love her.” Ho laughed with a A>rced laugh as he replied: “Nonsense! my srd! Why, lam twenty-three years older than she! I would be mad to think of marrying her.” “I do not know whether or not you ,*re mad, but I know, my dear uncle,that you are trying to deceive yourself.” “It is not so,” he, answored. “If I thought it was generally supposed that I wished to marry her 1 would leave this place at once.” “All, well, let us say no more about it,” I said. During breakfast I observed my uncle and Suzanne, llcr manner toward him was winsome and attentive, while he was reserved and severe. After breakfast, as the morning was beautiful, we all wont into the garden. As we were leaving the house I told Su zanne that I wanted a few words with her, and wo walked apart from tho others. She became a litllA pale ns she ex claimed : “Ah l already l” I perceived that my uncle was coating a dafk lodk toward us. It was Suzanne who first spoke. “My guardian,” sin said, “told me of his plans yesterday. Ido not know' w hether or not you agree with him: bnt, before you tell lue, I wish to say that 1 shall only marry a man whom I love, and I do not love you." “I thank you for your frankness,” I replied. “I do not, however, agree with my uncle, and I approve of your senti ments. I cannot why he should be so anxious for us to marry." “It is uot difficult to understaud,” she answered. “He wishes to rid himself of a troublesome ward, as ho himself desires to marry. He evidently loves some woman. But why doesn’t he marry und leave me by myself? I will not trouble I can remain us a teacher in the HBklini studying. That In n 1 t-r oft i In . |-li 1 1 ■ i . o him nothing SiH‘ did mnnltlifh the sentence; a sob choked her. Thoji, suddenly turning from me, she ran dbwn into the garden, leaving me standing alone. “How she loves him.” I exclaimed. That evening I went to my uncle’s chamber and related the scene to him. He was pale as a spectre, “You have done a bad thing,” ho said. “How so, since I have revealed you to each other and shown you how to be happy?” “Happy!" exclaimed my uncle. “I tell you that I would be a monster if I should marry Suzanne I” I was dumbfounded. He made me promise that Suzanne should never know what he was about to reveal to me. I felt tiiat I was growing as' pale as my uncle. “Do you know how the father of Suzanne died?” he asked. “Do you know that?” His emotion was terrible to see; he trembled like a leaf. “I killed him I Do you hear? He was killed, and I was his slayer. And I love his daughter with a passion that is kill ing me—that is my horrible expiation— Oh 1 yeß, I know the duel was fair. I challenged him. lie was an old wran gler, jealous and envious. Ho was ill favored, disagreeable and had no chance of advancement. I was handsome, popu lar, and rose rapidly in the service; I was envied; I was Fortune’s favorite. He insulted me. Fortune’s favorite to tlie last, I killed him. Fortune’s favorite to the last, I love his daughter and she loves me. Hut we cuimot join hands over the dead body of her father. On his death-bed he called rot to him and gave me his written testament in which he made me the guardian of his daughter, who was henceforth aluno in the world; and as lie gave it to mo he said: “ ‘You havo killed the father; you will watch over the child.’ ” In less than n year from the time my uncle told me of hia duel with Suzanne’s father, the battle of Wmrth was fought. Our forces were in retreat, and we were approaching Niederbronn. I was gallop ing beside my battery, doing my utmost to save my guns. “Make way there! make way I” cried my guides to a troop of hussars who were crossing our path. I recognized the regiment by the color of their uniform. I put spurs to my horse and hastened forward. In the centre of the group I recognized my poor uncle Edouard; he was pale, bleeding, dying, supported in his saddle by a few of his hussars. On entering Niederbronti I ordered a a halt before the house of a physician, who was a distant relative elf our family. I had my uncle taken injto the house, where many of the wounded soldiers had already been received. t The doctor shook his htad as he ex amined him. The Colonel had received a terrible wound from a lance that had pierced his breast. I wept.' holding my uncle’s hand, which was already growing cold. I felt his pulse flutter. I raised his head. He gave me a glance which I understood. I put my ear %o his lips. “If yon escape,” he murmured, “tell Suzanne that I die loving / her; but tell her nothing more. Reniember your promise.” Then his chest heaved twice—and all was over. I mounted my Horse and gal loped away, Suzanne lias never married. Slie is a teacher iu the convent in which she was educated. Slie knows that my uncle loved her; but she knows not how hei father died. She is happy in her memo* Hes. —The Epoch. Domestication of the Buffalo. Regarding, then, the buffalo as an animal well worthy conserving, what are his good and bad points? First of all, lie is hardy, not. liable to disease, and on the plains of the American and Canadian Northwest he can forage in deep snow and live in the open air all winter long. His meat brings nearly as good a price as beef. ITis robe is worth $25 to S4O; and his head taxidermized, thanks to the decorative tastes of sportsmen, fetches as much as the robe, or even more. So much for the credit side of the account; now for the debit. The buffalo is a strong brute, and of a temper at times so fierce that bis domestication is a task not seldom accompanied by decided hazard. Ordinary fences arc as gossamer to a buffolo bull, especially during the irritable years when he is past his prime and finds himself less attractive than of yore. Still, the example of well-bcliaved domestic cattle, with which buffaloes readily amalgamate, is very effective. It is not, however, in mere domestication, but in cross-breeding, that the buffalo’s value consists. In pairing a buffalo bull and domestic cow the young are brought forth without any unusual percentage of loss being sustained. The offspring combines good points of sire and dam. It haa nearly all its sire’s hardiness and strength, and so much of its dam’s tractibility as to be well suited for draught purposes. When killed, the net weight of its car cass exceeds that of a buffalo’s, while the meat is better. Such a carcass lias been knowij f;b Weigh as much af 1100 pounds net. Its robe is much raorfe valuable that! the buffalo’s; for its fur, instead of be ing chiefly bunched at the mane, is evenly distributed over the hide, and is much finer in oViality—its present value being from SSO to $75. A buffalo paired with a half-breed cow produces an animal quite as hardy as its sire, but not quite so large. Experiments of much interest are in progress with various strains of domestic cattle, the outcome promising to be per haps only less important than the original domestication, and subseqent molding, of horses and cattle from their primitive wild forms. Popular Science Monthly . Trained Nurses. The service of trained nurses lias now grown Into an essential part of the more scientific sue! careful medical practice in serious cases. The nurses are in constant demand,especially those who have gained a little standing. Their salary is S2O a .week " HI, 1 ~.,1. t.ion furnishes nti "ftpirTflflffllyTJifliiij wfiuian of the proper qualifications tc earn a good living, Tlie successful nurse, however, musl combine a number of excellent traits. Slit must be wi 11 and strong, intelligent, ol good judgment,expertiu "fixing things,” agreeable in a sick room, reliable and conscientious. Her work is often severely trying to the nerves and temper and to her powers of resource. The classes at the Bellevue school turn out about twenty nurses each year. Then there are several other schools, from all of which the graduates amount to about 100. This is, of course, apart from tin religious nurses in the Catholic system. The nuns who devqte themselves to the sick make admirable nurses,and are often Sought for I>y invalids of all faitlis and ol no faith at all. There are no sects in sickness. Said a physician to a New York Sun reporter: “The modern professional nurse has had an important effect on the practice of medicine. Often we are justi fied in a treatment where a nurse in em ployed that is impracticable otherwise. The nurse is able to carry out orders which must be intelligently obeyed or the result will bo tragic. Hence in many eases the treatment will depend on the presence of a competent professional nurse. The ordinary conduct of a ease, such as stated hypodermic injections, taking the pulse, temperature, respira tion, etc., may he intrusted to her, and her scheduled reports furnish us with a reliable history. “The good nurse lends a hard life. TANARUS( isn’t half as romantic as it reads in story books op looks on the stage. Hut in hundreds of homes all over town this night, she is giving comfort and saving life. She earns her salary about as honestly as any one in tlie community.” Fanners’ Houses in Japan. Tlie native house of the Japanese farmers is a shell-like affair, built up off the ground, with sliding paper screens for walls, and with no facilities for heat ing excepting the little charcoal braziers by which they warm their hands, while the feet are kept warm by sitting on them. The only furniture of the house are the thick rice mats or matting, which cover the floor, and in the better houses the cases of drawers for clothrog and the low tea or writing tables. Chairs and sofas are unknown, so that sitting on the floor is the only alternative, and this can not easily lie done in leather boots and trousers or in tlie dress of western women. Nor fcnn the Japanese afford to ruin these soft mats by walking over them in shod feet, and so the wooden sandal that can be slipped off at the door is preferable. The light walled, airy, unheated houses necessitate wadded clothing in winter,and this can only be comfortably secured in the loose obi and kumflfift bffhe’Japanese costume. In striking proof of the superior comfort of the native dress ie the fact that native men and women who wear the foreign dress at their businest during the day exchange it for the Japan ese dress as soon as they enter theii homes. Elaboration in house and dress would involve extra labor and strength and a consequent charge of diet. In addition to the fish and rice, bread and meat would be necessary. These would mean greater outlay and unless the money-making resources of Japan were correspondingly developed western civili zation would only increase the wretched ness of the country. — Mail and Exp, rets. NO. 22. SELECT SIFTINGS. A lion lives twenty years. Garter snakes are harmless. Charlie Ross was lost in 1874. Opal is worth sls to S4O per carat. Mystic, Conn., boasts of a singing rat. Brazil lias a prohibitory tariff on hand organs and monkeys. A cat nineteen years old belongs to N. B. Shaw, Area, N. Y. Fatjo is the peculiar name of one of the trustees of San Jose, Cal. The average weight of a carload of freight is about 20,000 pounds. A snake with two distinct heads, both perfect, was recently killed by John Dennett, of Santa Cruz, Cal. Anew industry in Hackettstown, N. J., is the manufacture of “beef lard.” It is made from pure beef suet. A head of cabbage, grown by George Berry, near Pensacola, Fla., measured twenty-five inches in diameter.' The library of the British Museum will not hereafter supply novels to readers until five years after publication. Experiments in France make it appear that the safest and easiest way to shin and store milk is in a frozen state. The so-called antique oak is ordinary American oak sawed in a peculiar way, and stained to look like the old English oak. A florist at Lancaster, Penn., has so improved the dandelion that he has pro duced specimens twenty inches in di ameter. Mineral paint of various hues has been discovered on the borders of Bayou Chico, in Florida. It has the appearance of clay. A white oak tree recently felled near Baraboo, Wis., measured nearly seven teen feet in girth, and was more than 100 feet iu height. A curiously twisted root of an oak tree, exhibited at Punta Gorda, Fla., is said to show all the letters of the alphabet in its convolutions. Hamilton Disston says that there are villages of 2000 inhabitants on ol his Florida lands which two years age were two feet under water. Mrs. Nathaniel Noyes, of Stonington, Conn., found upon the beach near the Latimer Reef Lighthouse, u diamond ring that was recognized as lost by C. P. Noyes just twenty-three years ago. The eats, dogs and poll-parrots of England having been properly provided for, a hospital for fish has now been es tablished. Fish are much exposed to dampness, and would A floating saw mill is iu use at Flor ence, Wls/ The boat is 40x80 feet in size, and draws seventeen inches of water. The mill hands live aboard, and the boat is moved along the river to where there is a fine lot of timber near the banks. The Texas umbrella tree is becoming a favorite for shade and ornamental pur poses in California. It is a large and beautiful tree, resembling an umbrella iu the spread of its foliage, which is so dense that it affords perfect protection from either rain or sun. James Crumb, of Lyons, Kansas, dreamed that his brother, who lived in Western Kansas, was in some terrible danger. He hastened to his brother’s home, and not finding him began a search. He soon found him in a well nearly dead from exhaustion. had been there three days, and must soon have perished. When an Irish-born workman in the employ of the city, or of a contractor in New York city, is killed or disabled, leaving a dependent family, his friends get up a ball in his benefit, and it yields anywhere from SSO to $l5O. The money to pay the lawyer’s fees for defending a criminal is often raised in the same way. Such entertainments are almost entirely unknown among Germans, nearly all of whom belong, or have relatives who be long, to some benevolent social lodge. Causes of Sudden Death. Sudden deaths are most frequent, ac cording to the I.anef t.. when tlie condi tions of life change suddenly, or are espe cially liable to change- and this without necessary reference to whether the change effected be relatively for tlie better or for t lie worse; for the change may lie so rap idly effected, in either direction, as to throw upon the circulatory and respira tory functions a strain which the organs are not able to bear. In this way, per sons with unsound or weak hearts or weak arteries die suddenly under rapid changes, although, if there were no special strain consequent on the change, it would in itself prove advantageous to them. It may be accepted that sudden deaths are especially likely to occur at periods of seasonal change, and at times when rapid variations of temperature are taking place. Peking’s Predominant Peculiarity. Above all other characteristics of Peking one tiling stands out in horrible promi nence. Not to mention it would be to wilfully omit the most striking color of tlie picture. I mean its filth. It is the most horribly and indescribably filtiip place that can be imagined. Indeed im agination must fall far short of the fact. There is no sewer or cesspool, public or private, but the street; the dog, tlie pig and the fowl are the scavengers; every now and then you pass a man who goes along tossing the refuse into an open work basket on his back; the smells are simply awful.— Washington Star. Cunning Seekers for Tips. "Women in the west end of London go about armed with small squirt guns filled with dirty water, with which they slyly soil the coats or dresses of persons whom they pass. Then they meet the persons, md, with elaborate bows, beg pardon for ailing attention to the fact that the dress jr coast is splashed, and offer to wipe it off with a clean white apron. Nine times out of ten the trick brings a generous tin. MCDUFFIE WEEKLTJOUIHAL. Rates of Advertising: One inch, one insertion $1 Qfl F-ach subsequent insertion 0110 inch, one month 2 50 One inch, three months 5 00 One inch, six months 7 00 One inch, twelvo months 1() 00 One quarter column, one month 6 00 One quarter column, twelvo months 35 00 One half column, one month 10 00 One half column, twelve months <‘o One column, one mom h 15 00 One column, twelvo month* ..100 00 Local notices 20c. per line each insertion. THE OLD VANE. Creak-a-ty-creak! I Tlio’ skies bo blue orpSMjf 'UN Hero, from my perch, a To all who glance my way. Flushed by the morning’s earliest light, Before the town’s astir, Kissed by the starry beams of night With every wind I whir. Ever a message true I speak, Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-arty-cr oak 1 Creak-a-ty-crea k I The farmer heeds me well; Over the fields, his hay to sftek, He hies, when rain I tell. Slave of the breeze; yet tyrant I To those who watch below; Joy or regret, a smile or sigh. Uncaring, I bestow. Ever a messago true I speak, Creak-a-ty-creak? Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak I Creak-a-ty-creak 1 I watch tho snow-elves weave; Keen arrow's of the rain so bleak, Sim lances I receive. All’s one to me; my task I do, Untiring, year by year; A lesson may this be to you Whose glances seek we here! Ever a message true I speak, Creak-a-ty-creak 1 Creak-a-ty-creak! —George Cooper , in Independent. HUMOR OF THE DAY. Dressed hens look chic. Late habits—Night gowns. A head gardener—The barber. Court plasters—Awards for damages. Words of wait—“ Bring that bill next week.” Waiter’s epitaph—He couldn’t wait any longer, so he went. Better to be a loan than in bad com pany was not written of our umbrellas.— Life. Even the tiger is not without affection. He is very much attached to his paw and maw. Girls who use powder don’t go off any quicker than those Who don’t. —Boston Courier. The homely girl is seldom mentioned, and the pretty one is also seldom men shun’d. The railway sandwich is an instance where they never succeed in making both ends meat. Even the most unemotional man can’t contain himself when he goes to sea.— Terre Haute Euprm. A Stray Thought.—De Few'—“l have an idea.” Van Riper—“ Can’t you find the owner.”— Munsey's Weekly. The press feeder sooner or later fintU that' the press 1 . Tommy “Wlim IB; ; - 'iirjHj ’ t"f i.-'i'-ti r-. .md ii jys | ft. 'I ii- 'JH " i 1 yffl ' ,V„ \lti-! "Wlintfl pi- 1 1 itil, f|| : * ' 1! ' V ! - ■i , ; me.” ‘J ‘sb|2f' 1 ' Vi ■:! - lii'l ill, an my bov.” lit, 1 |> I.now wigsji •■■'o' /jj&wM i’ i :m in'lS v. li-’*®. .^i'.. ~ I i"n 1,11 l'V' /•’ L ' rtajMpgjfel' A ■BflTiin recently, Tpeak of iiim ns A long-winuH his pocket picjfl and his conn “another rifled Ime." The highest office in the gift of the President is that of Postmaster at Mineral Point; Col. It is 12,000 feet above the seaoevci.— Norristown Herald. The pretty young misses at church fairs ire continually laying themselves liable xi arrest on the cliarge of robbing the males. —Bochcstcr Post-Express. Though a maiden’s voice be squeaky, Yet it cannot lie disowned, That the dollars of her daddy Make it very stiver toned. —Detroit Free Press. A Born Grumbler.—“l am the uu luckiest man living. Here X find a piece of money, and it is only a nicklc. If iny one else had found it, it would have been a quarter.” She—“lsn't Miss Ambler a perfect daisy?" Mr. Jonathan Trump- “Yes, they are all daisies, but after awhile they lose their petals in tlie game of ‘love me, love me not.’ ’’ — lAfe. “It is tlie partings in this world that give us pain,” sadly sings a poet. It is the meetings too. If you don’t believe this, ask the man who has a note to meet.— Barton Courier. The old-time rushlight was even dim mer than parlor gas. Still, the young men of those days were very well satisfied vffth it and didn’t call early to avoid the rush.— Terra Haute Gazette.. “You say your son is a painter, Mrs. Browne. Is he a landscape painter?" “No, I think not. His last job was on the Galway flat house. He is more of a fire-escape painter.”— Harper's Bazar. “You appear to be in good health,” said a prison visitor to a convict. “It is only in appearance, sir,” replied the con vict, “for the fact is I am confined to my room more than half the time.”— Siftings. A busy doctor of Scranton, Penn., sent in a certificate of death to the health officer, and inadvertently placed his name in the space for “cause of death.” This is what might be called accidental exact ness.—OJUeago Herald. All Beady. When war was declared by Fiance against Germany Von Moltke was seri ously ill. The king got the news iate in the evening and went to consult the Count, whom he found asleep. The Count was aroused, when the King in formed bim that war was declared. “With whom?” asked the General. “With France.” was the reply. “The third portfolio on the left,” was nil the ; Count vouchsafed to say, and lie fell 1, asleep immediately.