Newspaper Page Text
VOL. v
ft ML m
EWS& FARMER
BY
| RUBE TS &• BOYD.
■Lh'.-i/uv/ every Thursday Morning
P ILL T. U TO II HI A.
TTir':/.-. 'P*' • i 'l'J r^k-noN
IN ADVANCE.
villi- j 00
W MX....... II.H
•i Int-e montlis .... i'll
i o. a Club i'i 1- i Vl. or mure w wi I make a
rtduciioii ot '&> iiei.oeiu
ad t r.Kl'lrtlAU Rblc-i
fraiment UoeriiseineiiU, One dollar p
.qua e (leu line- u. Una l>,P f u >‘ “.eh) bo
she lira., mseru.m aud 7u eei.tß .or ear-. souse.
I A.1...... ...su.no.. A übeia. uedueinm made o
vertiaeme.ua r..umli< over one i.mi.U..
■f ....cal i.ouees will he chained l-.tteeu etula
Fl;er line end* 'iuu. ,
P LV All bills t*n bdverusing 4 ul ‘ an .V tune
l nlit: lie lirst n eruon umi will be presented
* Ai tile pleasure 'll tue I'ropneioi', cXCu P* *0
special arrangement .... ~. ,
i.v*KM a-. A iVhiUI.'SXNu
"ordinary*# Citations lor Loiters t Adiuiiustra
iii.ii, Guardianship Ac 'U
cation .or tli. in 11 iruui dm " Wl
itome-icHi notice
Application tor ••ishi’u uoiii guard u o UU
Ainnn ation tor leave lo sell land *> 01'
t \ otic.* to Ueutois and creditors. 4UU
k -*aies o. L nd, />'• square oi leu lines UU
I oi persona, pei sqr ten u a> 5?
E '•/itriU's —r.ach Iwvjf ot leuUntts, sun
Minima ui-8,.1r:.0/ uu Lines or less “U
i u.\ Cofiecto* s alV*, per sqr., triomuslO IK)
i'nrk's —Loiectosuro ol mortgage and
+■ wtner inonMn>’s pei squaie 4UU
K'li’a. no-levs iliin> da. b Ut
v tfc./IUAIi UAILUOaU.
ON and idler SUNDAY the iUili .him-, .1.
i a*aengoi ti*dis u tile ueo £' C imai
luiiMiiU, its brandies and co“.. • t>-.n* wii
r.a as o 1 loves *
Leave 'awinali 9.15 a m
* Loave Augusta Hu'b pin
An ve in Augusta LOO p m
Arrive in Macon ti:4-> p m
•I - Leave vlacon tor Colu nbus M :IS p m
Leave Macon tor Lufaula.-.- y:l0;i ni
Macon for Atlanta 9:15 m
at Columbus 1:45 a m
at Knlaula * ~ p in
Arrive at A lanta. 5:0*2 u n,
Lea v Atlanta lU:4o p m
liAve Kiif.iula b;*2*2 a m
Leave (Joiilmbtia 1‘.50 p ir.
Airive at. vlacon from Atlanta 0.40 p m
rrtve at Macon from KutauU 5: 1 5 p m
Arrive at Macon from Columbus p m
Lea e Macon 7:00 a m
Arrive at Augusta 4:Un p m*
Arnveat "avamiah - 5:45pm
> Connect* daily at Gordon with Pasnonge.i
ai.is to and from Savamiati and Augusta.
-a'arUß.
ii. L- G..M13 * . 4 li|
" ATTORN It V AT I.A'A.
rhlUll.OjitlC, cGu.
o y
J. u. UHIU. J. ■l. 1 Olili.l
LAIN A: POLIIILL.
ii u u NeVS a I L \ *'
2LOUISVILL. (ii.
MayS, 1 r7l. • G
DR. E- E PAUSO :S
r ■ F T' T T S
f Louisville, na.
'Vi 1 ho in Lousville th t'irl week in end*
month
left at the Central Hotel promptly
attended to. l> 44 ly.
fh. F DURHAM, M- D.
i • Thy Ician and 'irs (in
. Sp*,pta,
SUCCESSFULLY treats Diseases f the
and I hroiit, diseases of tho Eye,
and Ear, and all tin ms oi lhopse> ; dt>-
<aseH of lo Heart Kidneys* HI adder ami tStric
hire, secret diseases, lon# standing Ulcers.—
Removes licmoirlu idal Tiitnuis wiuiout pain
Mai\s ape iality ot diseases peculiar to Ue
ttia es >ledu-ino* sent o any point on the
Railroad. Ail eor>espuitdeiiCe couliUeunal.
Fobj J 5, ly
HOTELS,
HOTEL,
LOUISVILLE GA.
Mrs A, M. Kirkland, Proprii tress.
Board, $2.00 Per Day.
Lamar H®asr,
Mulberry Street,
MACON UjIORCIA
B. BUBj, Proprietor
Fcei Uu Ibas front ail ta tin t)e?i .
jottrS.
[original.]
MEMORIAL DAY.
. -F
’Tis over ! and an incense,
Upward rises toward the gates,
Of tlie celestial sphere,
The incense of holy gifts,
And the offering of grateful iiearts.
Embalmed by memory’s gentle tear.
'Tis over! and angel 9 smile
At deeds that need no praise,
Hot the sweet reward they bring—
The consciousness of having given
Unfading souvenirs awav,
pl'hc heart’s lost cause offering.
'Tis over ! Tiie flowers may lade
That fair hands placed
On the mounds of onr treasured dead,
Where they sleep the sleep
That to the brave is given,
Wrapped in glory in their gory bed.
'Tis over 1 The voice of the speaker
May die on the tranquil air
As he lauds their valorous deeds,
And the tear drop that falls
On an unknown grave
Will evanish as the sunlight recedes.
’Tis over 1 The grave knows its own,
Though the mother and wife
Cannot tell where their loved ones lie,
They live >n their hearts.
The day is kept there.
Such memo, ies can never die.
Tis over 1 The blast of the bugle
And the clash of steel.
Disturbs not their valiant repose,
And perchance a hero lies
Where love cannot place
Her wreatiies of mirtle and lose.
Tis over 1 the day is gone—
The music has died away ;
The flowers have lost their sweet per
fume.
But memory holds her treasures yet
And music lives within the heart—
An i flowers that ever bloom.
*
WE CoTill ~AXD GO.
If you or I
To-dav should die,
The birds would sing as sweet to-mor
row ;
The vernal spring
Iler flowers would bring
And few would think of us with sorrow.
Yes, he is dead
Would then be said ;
The corn would floss, ihe grass yield
hay,
The cattle low,
And the summer go.
And few would iieed us pass away.
How soon we pass?
liow few, alas 1
Remember tnose who turn to mould!
Whose faces fade
With autumn’s shade,
Beneath the sodded churchyard cold !
• Y'et, it is so— ,
We come, we go—
They hail our Iji-tli, they mourn us
dead ;
A day or more
The winter o’er,
Another takes onr place instea 1.
Tlilh WisO.\(ji n *i\.
A Hairbreadth Escape.
In the year 1841, the now flourishing
city ol Steubenville. Ohio, was a very
small place. Its population was noted
for its quiet and orderly character, and
there was not a single liquor saloon <n
the place.
Crime was very rare, and the circuit
judges often had occasion to congratu
late the people upon not having a sin
gle criminal case upon tiieir calender.
In ecu sequence there was intense
excitement in Steubenville, when, at an
early hour in the morning of the sev
enteenth of November, in the above
mentioned year, the report reached the
place tiiat the corpse of a man had been
found in the woods within a hundred
yards of the ’ast house of the town, and
clo e to the Pittsburg turnpike, with
every indication tiiat an atrocious mur
der had been committed. The Sheriff,
accompanied by some fifty citizens,
immediately hastened to the spot indi
cated to him by the person who had
discovered the remains of the murder
ed man. Tiiat person was a decrepit
old woman who had gone ou. to' gather
brushwood. No one would have sus
pected her, under any circumstances,
of having had anything to do with the
bloody deed, and, besides, she mani
fested such unfeigned horror in de
scribing what she had seen at the dis
mal spot n the woods, that she was un
hesitatingly allowed to go about her
business.
Upcui arriving at the scene of the
supposed murder, the sheriff and his
companions saw at a glance that a ter
rible crime had been committed. The
dead man was covered all over with
frozen gore and seven wounds, appa
rently inflicted with a sharp knife were
upon the body. His head was still
covered with a nice felt hat. His face
presented a most hideous and ghastly
aspect.
A terrible gash extended from the
left temple to the right jaw. Another
gash was in the forohead. The victim
was dressed in a substantial fur coat.
THE NEWS AND FARMER.
• t mm !
LOUISVILI4 JEFFERSON COUNTY. GA.. MAY 4, 1876.
IHe was apparently about forty-t'
years old.
Whep his pockets were examin.
they, were found to be entirely empt.
But close to the body was found
old-fashioned wallet. It wa3 still ope.
as if its contents had been taken fro
it, and as if he who had opened it lia
afterwards thrown it away.
At a distance of about ten yard
from tho corpse "ear an old log, lay i.
peculiarly suape.. fur cap. It could no.
have belonged to the murdered man,
for, as we-have said before, be had hi.
hat on his head.
The ground was covered with snow
and there were a number of foot-prints
in it; These were the only indieation.-
of tho perpetrator -of the horr,..le
crime. '•
Tue coroner'v tis scot for, and until
his arrival, tiie sheriff and his conipan
tons went to the Ohio tavern, widen
was situated at no great distance from
tue scene ot the murder.
When tue sheriff told the landlord of
the murder, aud described to him tue
appearance of t :e corpse, the landlord
exclaimed at once:
‘Great God 1 that poor fellow cannot
be anybody else than Mr. Sam mis, the
Pittsburgh cattle dealer, ile was here
last night and took supper with another
man from Pittsburgh, vvnose name was
Belson or Wilson and who rode on to
wards Pittsburgh immediately after he
had left the table. Mr. Sammis sat in
tue front room with me and Jack Capon
for an hour, when the two went out to
getlier.”
Jack Capon was a dissolute but very
good-natured fellow, about thirty years
old, who had a decided aversion to any
kind of work, and a still more decided
predilection for strong drink.
He could not get any whiskey at
Steubenville, and lienee he often walk
ed for miles and miles in order to ob
tain a “wee drop” of whrskey. When
he was successful, he returned with his
hat lull of bricks to Steubenville, where
lie had frequently been punished by the
"squire” for intoxication, with tine and
imprisonment. Still, everybody liked
him because he had an excellent, uu
selfisii heart, and never forgot a favor
done him.
‘What sort of a hat did Capon wear
last night?' asked the sheriff.
‘\Y by, no bat. but a fur cap—made of
beaver skin—with two ear covers ’
•Was this the cap?' asked the sheriff,
pi o dicing the fur cap which he had
found near the corpse of the murdered
man, and which he had thus far been
holding under his cloak.
•Yes,’ exclaimed the landlord, ‘that
is Capons cap, and no mistake; wnere
did you find it?’
ihe sheriff told him. Everybody
was horror-struck at the idua that
poor Jack Capon should have commit
ted so atrocious a crime.
Men were immediately dispatched to
hunt up Jack Capon. They did not
find him at his wonted haunts in Steub
enville ; but a man who was well ac
quainted with his habits, said if be
could be found anywhere, it would be
at the cabin of old Bim Brooks.
Brooks lived in the woods on thff
Pittsburgh side of Steubenville, about
one mile from the point "here tiie body
of Mr. Sammis had been found. Like
Jack Capon, old Brooks was fond of
w.iiskey, and the two would frequently
drink together until they were utterly
oblivious of the cares and sorrows of
this world, which, as they thought, had
not treated either < f them too well
So to Brook's cabin went the man.
Thcv knocked at the front door, which
was locked. For several minutes there
was no response. Al last, olci Brooks
himself opened tho door. • They saw at
a glance that he was in an alarming
stale of intoxication.
T= Jack Capon here V they asked.
‘Ye-ye-yes,’ hiccoughed Brooks; ‘he
is lying asleep yonder, behind the old
stove.’
Then the drunken old fellow went
back to iiis lounge, and a minute later
he was fast asleep again. The men
stepped up to Capon, lie was drunk
also. liis eoat and shirt was covered
with blood. They exchanged signifi
cant glances, and aroused him, though
not without considerable difficulty.
‘What do j ou want?’ he asked yawn
ing.
“The sheriff wants you, Jack,’
‘The sheriff! What for? I kain’t
done nothing.’
‘You are suspected of having mur
dered a Mr Sammis, of Pittsburgh.’
Go away ! I murdered a Mr. Sammis?
You must be loony.’
‘Look at yourself.’
Capon looked at his clothes. The
sight of the bloody stains on them
caused him to sober up at once.
‘How did I get these stains on my
coat and shirt?’ he stammered out at
last.
‘Don't you know anything about
them?’ they asked.
‘No—no ! Y’ou say murder was com
mitted?’
‘Come—come. Jack Capon,’ they re
plied, ‘you can’t fool anybody here by
pleading ignorance. What did you do
with your cap?’
He looked about the roo n.
‘Someone must have taken it away,’
lie said, at last.
‘You left it near the corpse of tiie
murdered man.’
‘Was it found there? Groat God—
great God!’
lie buried his face in his hands and
I began to cry.
Then he followed the men—wiio also
took Sim Brooks along—willingly, to
the Ohio tavern, where the coroner had
-anwbile arrived. Tb| sheriff appear
aoon at'tei ward with Some men who
we carrying the gory, frozen corpse of
e victim. Jack Caputf was coiulnoted
i the corpse. As he cyjnght sight of it,
e recooed in horror. |
‘its Mr. Sammis.’' le gasped out.
Poor Sammis. who hasipnirdered him?’
•You were the last se|n in his com
any,’said the sheriff’i|*your cap was
ouud near the corpse fcd your clothes
u-e blood-stained; wkmmt you can be,
,ue murderer?’
‘I am innocent 1’ cnld Capon despe- 1
ately. ‘I got light at I&uoks'. I don’t
know how I got thiilblood on my
clothes, nor how my cam got near the
corpse. I have eveujfD' gotten that 1
was with this poor gentleman.’
The coroner impahele’d a jury, and
m the first place, took tiiom to tue spot
in tne woo ls where tho murder had
beeu committed. Jack C upon, who had
ueeu, meanwhile, heaviiy ironed, was
also conveyed thither. The footprints
near the point where the corpse of
the murdered man hud lam were not
very distinct, but they seemed to cor
respond exactly with the soles of Jack
Capon’s shoes.
Returning to the Ohio tavern, the
coroner swore Sim Brooks, who, by this
time, had become perf ctly sober, and
who staled tuat last night, about half
past ten o’clock, Jack Capon had come
to his cabin and asked him if he had
any whiskey, lie had given him halt a
dozen drinks, whereupon Capon had
wanted still more, but he had no more.
Capon had then showed him a ten dol
iar gold piece, aud asked him if he knew
wile re any whiskey could be bought.
He had answered that if he would go
to Alike Terry's, lie might get some.
There Capon hid gone, and returned
with whiskey, but without his cap, and
with his shirt and the front part of his
clothes all bloody.
Brooks added tuat lie had asked Ca
pon how he got tho blood or him. Ca
pon was so drunk that he could not give
a very intelligible account of what had
happened to him, but lie said some
thing about having had a fall and hurt
himself.
Upon hearing this evidence, the
prisoner exclaimed :
•Yes—yes, that is true—l do remem
ber it now. I made a shoit cut through
the woods to Mike Ferry’s house, got
the whiskey, and returned by pretty
much tiie same route when I stumbled
over sometning. and fell.’
Tiie jury rendered a verdict against
him, and he was committed for trial
His pockets were then examined, and
tiie ten dollar gold piece, which Sim
Brooks had mentioned, was found.
Capon said that Sammis, who had ta
ken an interest in him, hail given it to
him. This was considered a flimsy
falsehood, and everybody was convinc
ed that Jack Capon was guilty.
A messenger, with the news o-f Mr.
Sammis’ murder, was ditpatched to
Pittsburgh, where it created profound
sensation. It tursed out that the mur
dered man had nearly s'o,ooo m large
bank bills on his person. Sammis’
' brother .Mark, a wholesale grocer, and
a very energetic man, accompanied tiie
messenger back to Steubenville, and
engaged special counsel to assist him j
in the prosecution of Capon. Tiie latter |
: was tried, and convicted, but the jury j
having to fix Ids punishment, he was
not sentenced to death, but to impris-1
jonment at hard labor for life. J
The prisoner was overwhelmed with
grief because of his conviction. He
never tired of protesting iiis innocence,
and his eyes were constantly red and
swolen from weeping.-• lie was taken
to the penitentiary at Columbus, where
he was at first harshly treated; but
lus amiable disposition was not long in
making so agreeable an impression
upon the keepers, that inaiiy privileges
were granted to him. These he never
abused ; on tiie contrary, he proved an
efficient assistant to the prison authori
ties on more than one occasion, so that
tney wondered how this good-natured
man could have been capable of com
mitted so heinous a crime.
Five ‘’ears passed by, when an event
occurred which proved beyond a doubt
tiiat Capon was, afier all, an entirely
innocent man.
A cotton broker, named Wilson, at
Savannah, Ga., had long been on bad
terms witli his wife. Finally, he charged
tier with adultery, and sued for a di
vorce. The wile thereupon accused him
of having murdered a man on the 16th
of November, 1841, on the day after
leaving Pittsburgh, Pa., and of having
robbed bis victim of $20,900 in SSOO
and sl,oflo bank bills.
Siic said that she had to wash on the
next day, when lie had unexpectedly
returned to Pittsburgh, her husband’s
shirt, wii.cli had been blood-stained,
and she charged him witli having killed
somebody. Ho hod confessed to her
what he had done, and ttiey had left
Pittsburgh together afl'ew days later and
1 gone Soutii.
! Wilson was arrested, and authorities
; at Steubenville were at once communi
cated with. The sheriff who had arrest
ed Capon, and who was still in office,
I came personally to Savannah, with a
1 requisition from the Governor ol Ohio,
i When he had h.s first interview with
Wilson, the latter, who was terrified
beyond measure by tiie prospect of tiie
scaffold, asked him whether a full con
fession would save him.
, ‘lf you are guilty, it will be, maybe,
the only th ng that will save your life,'
replied the sheriff.
Thereupon, Wilson made a clean
breast of it. He said he had waylaid
Sammis, who had left his horse at a
r house three miles from Steubenville,
and had attacked him with a knife. |
Nainmis had offered the moss desperate 1
resistance, ana had compelled Inin to
stab him often before lie succumbed,
When the sheriff arrived witu his
prisoner at Steubenville, tho exasper
ated people could be barely prevented
from lynching Wilson.
Tne Governor of the State, upon re
cuvmg a certified copy of W ilsoa’s con 1
fession, innnediat -ly griTuted a full
pardon to Capo.i, to wnotn the Legis-|
lature. which happened to be in session
at Columbus at tne time, voted the sum
of §,OOO to idemnify him for the suffer
ings he had innocently itu iergoue.
It is needless to try to describe Ca- i
pons joy at this unexpected change in I
his fortunes. Her turned to Steuben
ville, where tiie people received huu
amid manifestations of unfeigned joy.
At the next term of the circuit court,
Wilson was sentenced to be hung, the
court saying that tue enormity of Ins
crime had been augmented by his suf
fering an innocent man to be punished
for it j
Capon gave proof of genuine magna-:
ninety by going to Columbus and ask- j
iug tiie Governor to spare Wilson’s life;
but the Governor refused to interfere,
bo Wilson was hung at Steubenville, ‘
on the 4th of January, 1847.
A PICTLUE.
Let me faintly draw a picture—a
reality: |
An individual who had long been the j
slave of alcohol, attends tiie meeting of i
a total abstinence society. He listens!
patiently’ and attentively to the argu- j
incut of t.e speaker. He yields, by |
necessity, to tiie truthful detail of tiie j
e.viis of intemperance, for he lias often
personally experienced them. He re-!
spouds fully to tiie declaration that i
there is no safety for him in attempting i
to use in moderati n. his cruel bever- j
nge ; he looks to the past, surveys tho
present, the misfortunes and evils of his
course, the tears of his wife, the terror
of his children, tiie waste of his proper
Sy ; tiie injury of his health and tue loss
of iiis reputation, all rise up before him
in startling characters. That moment
he resolves to cuter upon anew course.
Hope beams upon his soul, anticipations
of a happy future float in dreamy aud
exstatio visions before,him. Health
and happiness, honor and reputation,
success in iiis schemes, domestic felicity
the smiles of iiis companion, the cheer
ful prattle and joyous eiastibility of
Ins children, are conjured up before
him in forms of bliss and love and
beauty, as he suddenly resolves to-fly
to tiie ark of safety, and seek security
and-repose in a strict adherance to total
abstinence from the hateful enemy of
iiis former peace. His name is regis
tered on the books of a temperance so
ciety. The Rubicon is passed. His
friends may laugh, the intemperate may
jeer him, but his course is marked out,
and his determination fixed to follow it.
His wife is surprised to see him return
home so early that evening, and sober
too. The loud oath is unheard, the reel
ing upon the horse, the tottering step
is unseen. The face so often swollen
witli rage and tiie effects of drink, is
calm, and suffused with a placid smile.
Tiie hand of former threat, perhaps, un
manly violence, is extended to greet
the wife of his bosom ; his children
are caressed and fondled upon his knee
and are happy’ in the enjoyment of the
delicacies winch lie brought them Ills
words are kind, his voice soft, his man
ners bland, and all around him a scene
of unusual and unexpected serenity
presents itself to the astonished gaze of
liis wife. Joy an i fear, gladness and
trembling, are commingled in her heart,
as she spreads tier board and ministers
to tiie comfort of her household, That
night the wife pray s that this sudden
felicity may continue. It is passed and
the morning comes. The sun on tiiat
day shines more brightly than it used to
do, the air is more balmy, the birds
sing more sweetly'. Tiie husband takas
no morning dram. Week after week,
month after mouth rolls off’,
and the scene remains unchanged.
Happiness hovers within and around
this habitation and its inmates. The
children are nurtured with care, their
morals are protected, their minds un
folded and enriched with tiie blessings
of education. How joyful the spirit
of t ie mother as she beholds them with
rapture, and attends them with untir
ing fondness, contrasted with the de
pressions and afflictions of the past.
The father no longer bends under the
oppressions ol chagrin, self-confusion
and self-disrespect, reputation and res
pectability’ is his gain, liis labors are
crowned witli success, iiis prospects
bright and cheering. Ceres walks
amidst his field and the blessings of
Heaven rest upon his head. This hap
py change was the work ot a To al
Abstinence Society, and its praise was
over u[ on the lips of the devoted wife
and mother. M.
“Mils' brace up,” said Sozzle, as he
s.ood on tiie door step at 1 a. m.
“It'll never do to let ol' lady ’speot
anything;” and, ns Mrs. S. descended
the stairs, clad in her robecle unit, Suz
zio braced up, knocked the ashes off
his cigar, and, as the door opened,
said cheerily, “Hullo, M'ria, (hie) up
yet? Got a match in yer pocket?”
Of course she did not suspect any
thing.
The bull-frog was tiie first circulat
ing greenback, and the entire breed
have been notorious inflationists ever
since tiie flood.
AN ARKANSAS FATHER'S AD
VICE JO HIS SON.
Bob, you are leaving home for strange
paits You arc goin 0 lo throw me out
oi tue game auu go it alone. . Tne
odds are agm you, 800. Remember
that industry aud perseveiauco are tue
winning cards, as they are tue "bow
ers.” BooX laming aua all that sort
of tiling will do to fill up witu; like
small trumps, you must have tiie bow
ers to back tiiom, or they ain't worm
shucks. 11 luck is agiu vou pretty
strong, don’t cave and look like a sick
chicken on a rainy day, but hold up
your head aud make believe y’ou are
flush of trumps, men they don't play
so hard agin you. I've lived aud trav
eled around some, and I’ve found out
that as soon as loiks you held
a weak hand they’d all ouck agm you
strong. IS a, wnen you’re sorter weak,
keep on a bold front, but play cau
tious —oe satisfied witu a point. Many
is tne hands I've seen eucured because
they played for too muon. Keep your
eyes well skinned, Boo; don’t let ’em
mg you; reooueot tue game lies as
muon with tue non l as with the hands.
Be temperate; never get drunk, for
tiien, no matter how you piay it, both
bovvers and tue ace won t save you,
lor there’s certain to be a misdeal, or
soinetuing wrong. And another thing,
Bob, (tins was spoken in a low tone,)
don’t go-ton muon on women; queens
is kinder poor curds, the more you
have ol them tue vvoise lor yon; you
might have three, and nai'ry trump.
1 don't say’ discard ’em ail; you get
hold of oue that .s a ttuuip; it's all
your good, and tuere's to ue one out
of four. And. atiove all. 800, be hon
est;. never take a man's trick tuat
don't belong to you, nor slip cards, or
uig, tor then you cuu’t look your tnau
in the face; and wnen that is tne
case, there is no foil m the game; it
is a regular "cut tin oat.” ao now,
Bob. forewell. Rememner what i tell
you, aud you will oe sure to win; and
if you don’t it sarves you right to be
“skunked.”
jejecT 11 TTTyT
Does it pay’ to have fifty workmen
poor and ragged, in order to have one
saloon-keeper dressed in broad-clotu
ami tiusu of money ?
Does it pay to hang one citizen be
cause another got Inin drunk?
Dues it pay to nave naif a dozen in
telligent young meiUurued into tli.eves
and vagabonds tnat one man may get
a living by selling them rum ?”
Does it pay to have one citizen in
the county jail because another sells
liim liquor?
Does it pay to receive sls for a rum
license, and men pay sdo.ooD for try
ing a man for murder, induced by the
rum sold him?
Does it pay to have a thousand
homes blasted, ruined, defiled, turueu
into hells of misery, strife, aud want,
that some wholesale rmnseller may
build up a large fortune?
Does it pay to have twenty mothers
and children dres3 in rags, live in nov
els daily famish, that one rinnseller’s
wife and children may live in ease and
affluence?
Does it p.ay to have hundreds of
thousands of men and women in alms
houses, penitentiaries and hospitals,
and thousands more in the asylum for
tiie idiotic and insane, that a few
heavy capitalists of the whisky ring
may profit by such atrocity?
Does it pay to tolerate a traffic
which breeds crime, poverty, agouv,
idleness, shame, and death, wherever It
is allowed!—Christian at Work.
[Fill thefitteeu oiauas with the name®
of as many varieties of dogs :]
There was a man whose name was
Daniel,
1 He had a handsome -,
ile thought he’d change it fora better,
2 No, he bought instead a splendid ,
Though soon ha sold it to a farrier,
3 And tried to buy a well trained
But found the salesman a deceiver.
4 And took instead a black ;
And then to make him all the merrier,
5 Repurchased a most lively ;
Then stepped aside and bought an
_ eagle,
6 Yet fancied lie should like a ,
\\ liich undesirable he found,
7 So changed it for a young ;
Then saw upon a crimson rug
8 IFhat he declared a “lovely ,
He wished to own it when his eye
9 Fell on a little dog from ;
But as he whistled ‘Yankee Doodle;"
10 Up sprung a very clever ;
IF Idle close beside hint there did
stand
11 A huge black-coated ;
And yet to purchase it was folly;
12 He’d rather have a faithful
Or though to get one might be hard;
13 He’d like to have a ,
Just then a man like an Albanian
14 Led by a snowj' ;
But how the little creature snarls !
15 ’Tis snappish as a small .
So many dogs did quite confuse,
And Daniel found it hard to choose,
And quite imp ssible to find
One tiiat was suited to his mind ;
£ome were too large and some too
small,
And so lie’ll have no dog at all.
The Emperor of Brazil, dodged
snobdom in New York on his arrival
there. He landed quietly at an ob
scure pier-hired a private hack aud
went to his hotel like a sensible man.
The flunkeys stoo I around the foot of
24th street waiting to see the Emberor,
whilst he was cosily ensconced in his
hotel.
NO. 52,
Miscellaneous
frowsers ontaiued on credit are
breecaes of trust.
High colors—r.iaS3 in the rainbow.
A reporter once aptly called an un
successful printers’ strike a typograpu
ieal error
The style of pantaloons to be worn
this lall will be large enough to tie
back.
Why fs a store tiiat don't advertise
like Enoch Arden? Because it “sees
no sale from day to day.”
“What's going on?” said a well
known more to Douglass Jerrold. “1
am.” was the reply, and on he went.
A man may be said to have been
drink.ug like a iisu wnen ho finds that
he uas taken enough to make ms head
swim.
“What (I * you take for your cold?”
said a lady to Mr. . “Four pocket
handkeremefs a day, madam,” was tue
answer.
“Button parties,’ are popular in the
West. We do.it know wueuce tney
derive their name, uaiess it is because
tney’re always sure to oo.ue off'.
A physician boasted at dinner tiiat
he cured ms own minis, wnen one of
Ins guests remarked: “Doctor, I'd
sooner oo you. iiam than your patient.”
“1.3 your house a warm one, land
lord?’ asked a gentleman m search ot
a house. "It ought to ue,” was tue re
ply ; “the painter gave it two coats re
cently.”
W anted—A cover for bare suspicion,
a veil for the face of nature, buttons
for the breaches oi privileges, binding
for a volume ol smoke, cement for
broken engagements.
There is a woman in Jersey so eco
nomical that tue otner night, while her
husband was abed, she turned and
made over his dast pair ol' pantaloons
for oue of the children.
Here is the model verdict of a coro
ner's jury : “ vVe do believe, after due
inquiries, and according to onr best
knowledge, that we do not know how,
Wnen and where said infant came to
Ins death,”
A western paper announces the ill
ness of its editor, piously adding:
“All good paying subscribers are re
quested to mention linn in their pray
ers. The others nee 1 not, as tne
prayers of the wicked avail nothing.”
A pious father catered a saloon with
a horse whip oue night last week and
found his son playing euchre, lie
tanned the young man’s jacket and
sent him home, and then sat down and
finished the game himself.
“My boy, tell me v.h.at you know
about rattan?” said the Committee
man. “it is sometimes called the ‘Cal
lamus Rottang;’ comes from l’enang,
Samarang. an i l'udaiig, and is used uy
tho master in tins school too clang
often.”
Somebody gave Paddy McGrath a
pickled egg, yesterday, Paddy bit it
in two, opened his mouth, made a face
and said : “lie me sow!, I'll go before
any Jcdge or jury in t ie wurreid an’
take me o.ffh that the bin that led tnat
egg had the dyspipsy or heartburn.
A young Shell Rock (Iowa) man
who recently started out for tiie Black
Hills, writes back to Uis friends that
it s a perieet earthly para iso out there
and he’s delighted with it. He also
asks them to j lease loan him §25 to
come home with.
At the close of a tavern dinner, two
of the company fell down stairs, the
one tumbling to the first landing place
and Ihe other rolling to tiie bottom.
S nno one remarked that the first
sjemed drunk. “Yes,” observed the
wag, “but he is not so far gone as tue
other gentlemen below."
Said his Honor: “Mr. Peters, why
don't you sit clown, sir?" “I don’t sit
down any more, sir.” But you must!”
“Well, sir. she "said we both couldn’t
sit in one chair, and I tried to demon
strate that wo could, and she picked
me up aud settled me on top of' a red
hot stove, and 1 and m’t believe I care to
sit down, if it please the court.” Tho
Court agreed with tho witness.
THE DYI XG II OIiDS OF RECENT
STATESMEN.
Shed no muleteers for me—[B. 11.
Bristow.
Tho game is played out.—[Poker
Bob Sehenok.
Stand by your post traderships—
Teat d'armoe. —[Belknap.
I am glad that I die young. It
would be a terrible tiling to grow old
and sinful.—[Williams.
My son, never write letters.—Pierre
pout.
If I had only been born twins I
could have made just twice as much.—
Orville L. Grant.
Some love to roam o’er the dark soa
I foam, but as for me. give me a worm
eaten hull ina snug harbor.—Robeson.
Don’t weep for me. I'm glad to get
out of tho Wilderness. Meet me in the
happy hunting grounds.—Delano.
Look not on the still when it is
crooked.—John McDonald,
They say tho staeots or the New
Jerusalem are paved with gold. I
want to go —[Boss Shepherd,
Who would have thought that cold
tongue would kill a man?—[Jim Blaine.
I go where “mum’s the word.”—•
I [Joyce.