Newspaper Page Text
POO
Post Office order* from all portions oi
tie country will * ouro a supply oi
BOXKOCINK, the only safe, quick nnd
positive cure for acute and hronic
Gonorrha a and Gleet ever used. < 'urea
effected under five days, requiring no
internal remedies, no change of diet,
or loss of time. Its action <lc.-troys and
antagonizes every atom venereal
poison with which it comes in con
tact, and is harmless to healthy parts
POO
A Post-Office order for SI.OO will buy
three bottles of BONK<K INK, the only
harmless vegetable compound ever
offered which positively cures and pre
vents the contagion ofarvand all ve
nereal diseases.
The constant, persevering and uni
versal use of this would effect
ually wipe out all venereal diseases
from the face of the earth. <■. and G.
can neither 13 contracted nor exist
when it U used, because it destroys by
mere contact. It allays all pain, sub
dues the inflammation and promotes
quiet slumbers,
POO
A well known railroader writes as
follow s;
Atlanta. Fer'y 24, I*B3.
Bonkocinet'o.:— *' Early in January I
com mem vd the u-e oi iSUNKvH INK
for a bud case of G. which had Kiffled
the sk.il! ami inorth lm> of ttv-.- physi
cians.and three iKittle*. cured nc-sound
and well. lie ino time, tw and n< other
remedy uml did not dmiiL" my diet.
It isa tdeviii;; to those wliom* path ire
not bright.’*
Discard all CHpM'l. copubla. etc.,and
usethut which m\ r i.-u - am! will
keen ym cured for life by ueting ns a
preventive.
One bottle fl .50, or tliree f*r *I.OO.
Sold by druggists. Expressed oil re
ceipt of priii*.
BONKOTINK < 0..
78) # Whitehall isn't,
AiluiuiL Ga.
r r a i!e iu Su aui j rviile by
J. S. CLFGHORN & CO.
V<>. . (:4£' I
-
Q:e^ n 93 - : >
•Was mq equal
-
f 30 UNION SQUARE NEW YORK
C,\"°AG O
111 MASS. GA.
TOR SALE BY
I’JriA Hl{ & GA I N.
_BUMMERVII.LE, GA
jJBBHHnHHmRHL;.'..
Nerve-Life and VigjH
- RESTORED.
Tbia cut stKiwe the
fj&dnn Howard Licit lit
SHf Haariictic Shield
£3 WH ss applied over the
v M ceuters. Tic
pUni.rQ Tiltii ■ tliai
** ver Y l"- rt 4,1
*be *-{>dy, ami i.'
p a at Ksa| I i:J v oil" nceui g
m \ 1 ft*' t ] rosiTivT.Lr ii
■ Uk £ I HidiicytMficicG
■ -up I KbtnniaiiMii.
■ OP TnL I It 3pe)> aI u
j S*nlnal Weals
llgZ *II m*a, l£xla<i
flftP***— | |B I lion. Impel! n
°WASt> J cy, nnd uli I>l *
I *** and Weak
Bf I ucweif the I line
*• ” * Genital Ot
[Patented Feb. 25, 187#. J iW .
YOUNG MEN, from early indiscretion,
nerve force and fall to attain strength.
MIDDLE-AGED MEN often lack vigor, attribut
ing tt to the progress of yeari*.
The MOTHER, WIFE and MAID, sufferingfron
Female Weakness, Nervous Debility and other ail
menu, will find it the only cure.
To one and all we **ay that the Shield gives a nat
ural aid in a natural way
WITHOUT DRUGGING THE STOMACH.
Warranted One Year, and tlie bee
appliance made.
Illustrated Pamphlet. THREE TYPES OF MEN
alao Pamphlet for Ladies only, sent on receipt o
Aj c, sealed; unsealed, TREE.
American Galvanic Cos.
OFFICE ! 1 103 Chestnut Nt., Flilta.
g—■———
Babies.—Writing of the strange cus
tom of Japanese children carrying
younger children on their backs,
a correspondent remarks : “You will
see scores of children at play, aU carry
ing these burdens about (for you must
know the island swarms with babies),
and. as they rush along at breakneck
speed, the head of the sleeping infant
may be seen waving in the breeze.”
A little girl was asked by her teaouer
what three kinds of bees there were
She answered that there was the queer,
bee, and the others, she '. -lie red, wej
Abe king, and the iack.
(Iljc (Dujcttc.
VOL XT.
THE OLDEST CHRISTMAS JTYMA
[ln Rook 111 of Clement of Alexandria i* Riven (In
Girt k) the mi *>t ancient hymn of the Primitive
Church. It i* there (one hundred and titty years
after the A|M‘*tl<n) asserted to be of much earlier
ornrtn. The following veraiou willaive some Im
perfcct idea of its spirit:]
Shepherd of tender youth,
Guiding in love and truth,
Through devious ways;
Christ our triumphant King!
We come thy name to sing,
And here our children bring
To shout thy praise.
Thou art our holy Lord I
The all-subduing Word,
Healer of strife
Thou did'st thyself abase !
That front sin's deep disgrace
Thou mightest save oiu- race
And give us life.
Thou art wisdom’s High Priest?
Thou hast prepared the finist
Of holy love;
And in our mortal pain
None calls on thee in vain,
Help thou dost not disdain,
Help from above.
Ever be thou our Guide.
Our Shepherd and our pride,
Our staff and song.
Jesus, thou < 'hrist of God !
By the perennial word,
Lead us w here thou hast trod,
Make our faith strong.
So now, and till we die,
Sound we thy praise on high,
And joyful sing.
Infants, and the glad throng,
Who to thy Church belong,
Unite and swell the song
To Christ our King.
Making Amends
lii 11* illicit lor Hiinliipnm .11m.
BY DUDIK WHITH.
“Christmas comes bnt once a year,”
yet when it comes it brings—it brings—
useless expense— a day’s lull iu business
—a laziness jieculiar to all employees
for a succeeding week—an unwise ex
changing of gifts when the money is oft
needed for other and necessary purposes
—a hurrying, scurrying, foolishly busy,
topsy-turvy people, wishing each other
a “merry Christmas" to-day, and en
deavoring, with anew vim, to rob each
other to-morrow. The streets, full of
itinerant ware men, with their cheap,
trashy merchandise; leering, familiar
beggars, with their alcoholic “jist a
penny for Christmas, sir!”
A gorging of dyspeptic sweets and un
wholesome food a—a—folly I folly!
that I, Phineas Rugby, will omit year
after year, as I have done since I arrived
to years of discretion—bah ! trail 1 Yes,
my name's Phineas Rugby. Not a very
elegant one, yon think, for Phineas, ac
cording to the Hebrew, is “mouth of
brass.” Ha Iha ! And Rugby—well, is
just Rugby, and one can’t Frenchify
that. But I like it—it suits me. I’ve
grown with it lived and succeeded
with it.
But it’s not a handsome name. Oh,
no! I’m not a handsome man. Bnt,
some way, the little, uninteresting, bald
headed, hawk-eyed proprietor of one of
the largest book-stores in u large city is
looked up to, is bowed to, for money’s
money, whether in a silk purse or a
greasy pocketbook.
If you look closely at me you will sec,
all over my face, many seams and scars,
that time alone did not imprint there.
One lias to work hard, very hard, if they
would make money squarely and legiti
mately. Most of it braimvork, too, that
is ten times the more wearying than
real, downright manual labor.
Well, I know what it is to scrape and
pinch to pay expenses, oft going to lied
hungry and discouraged. It is, and al
ways was, cash down with me. I owed
nobody, and allowed nobody to owe me.
If I lived through it, others could, and
ninst. I made no excuses, I listened to
none. And so, if this Christmas eve. in
the year 18—, I can sit in my own lodg
ing, knowing that I am the Phineas
Rugby, of the prosperous house of that
name. I can say I have earned it,
Si>ei)t money, time, happiness, home
comforts and all to earn it. And yet
are we ever satisfied.
It's Christmas to-morrow, Phineas, 1
nay to myself, watching the lighted coals
smoldering urn id the ashes in the grate,
before which I am sitting in gown and
slippers—Christmas to-morrow ; and
Phineas, my boy, what is it you have
done during the past twelve months
that you feel proud of this eve ? I guess
you haven't thought of that before.
Let’s see—let’s see—thumb. I owe
no man—first, finger—no man owes mo
—second finger. I, six months ago,
discharged my bookkeeper Jacoby, a
'azy. good-for-nothing rascal—-third
linger—l—l—l—well, I guess that’s all.
Not much to brag of, hey, Phineas? Ho,
so—well, a good night's rest, and to
morrow I will again be—Phineas Rugby.
Now to rouse that sleepy-looking fire—
there, I hope I haven’t put it out! I’ve
to be careful of my old enemy, rheuma
tism, with his troop of inflammations—
and now—now for bed.
Bed's the place after all, where one
can, as Shakespeare says, “conch his
limbs where golden sleep doth reign.”
Feathers are restful, too (yawningly), yes,
full of rest—full of rest. Full moon to
night on the wall opposite; I can see its
reflection, “The moon rises in clouded
majesty,” and what a place for a magio
lantern.
When we were boys, how Bob and I
used to wish, and wonder if we evei
could raise money enough to buy one
SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY go, 1884.
and when we had the money we wanted
something else we couldn’t get. Bob’s
dead now, and I—why 1 see the moon
over my left shoulder. Wonder if one
can wish if ihe moon is full. I might
try. Let’s see—what do I wish. \ r es,
yes, au idea 1 I wish I could see objects
uid things on that circle opposite, as I
lay here and take it easy—that’s an idea!
Am I dreaming. It oau’t be that one
glass of porter 1 I sit up iu bed—l take
off my nightcap—l pull my hair—pinch
myself—gazo helplessly forward, and
see where late had been a circle of pale
light. A room—small—mean—uninvit-
ing—cheerless cold. No carpet on the
floor, save the little ugly green stripes
oof ore a bed iu one corner, and the dark
fire-place. Two cane bottomed chairs,
feeble as to legs, and paint of no known
color. A table, reminding one of the
Rebellion. A tin candlestick, a few
dishes, a much thumbed Bible ou the
mautlc shelf. A picture of a sweet-faced
lady, in an old-fashioned frame on the
wall, and no more.
A door fo one side opens, and there
enters —a wee body, scarce ten years of
age, but such a prematurely aged teu.
Such a wizened face, hungry-looking
teu. Such a poorly clad, largo head,
large eyes, shivering, puuy-looking teu.
The head is good—l can bco that, ideal
ity a little too marked perhaps. But
the lmir is smooth, glossy and curling.
Ho brings a chilluess within that even I
leel as I pull tho bedclothes closer up
about my neck.
Now the door is closed, and the fuded
old straw hat and ragged scarf hung on
a nail. The basket, which ho carries in
one of his claw-like hands, set upon the
hearth, and ho proceeds to remove the
lid, whistling all tho time—actually
wliistling, if that feeble little pucker of
those blue lips can bo termed a whistle.
First there comes from this mysterious
basket two candles, then a box of
matches. The old candlestick is taken
down from the mantel, one of the
matches ignited, a candle lit and placed
proudly iu the center of the table.
Now he delves down again into the
tiasket, and this time two bundles of
wood nnd a loaf of bread are brought
forth, his face becoming perfectly
radiant as he beholds them. He is sing
ing now, over and ovor, “Won’t dear
father be surprised 1”
There is not much musio in this little
song, yet there is a choked feeling in
the throat of Phineas Rughy that lie
hasn't felt for years. What a busy little
man he is now, running to and fro,
building a fire, placing tho most com
fortable-looking chair before it invit
ingly. Just putting the last finishing
touches on all as the door again opens,
and there enters—bless me, Jacoby ! my
ex-bookkeeper 1
"Father, father, see I" , the boy cries,
as ho dances to his father’s sido, and
pulls him down in the chair, “your
Christmas present from your little son 1
I earned it myself—all myself. I’m
most a big man now, and we won’t be
hungry any more. Oh, father 1” —his
arms clasped about his neck, and bis
tiny face close to the elder one—“ain’t
we pleased ?”
Jacoby says nothing; but tears, such
ns I never knew a man could shed, fall
on the dark curls of the little one. He
had changed a good deal in six montlis,
Jacoby had, and not for the better—
no, no.
“Phineas Rugby, take my hat and put
it where it belongs,” be says, after a
short and mournful silence; “then come
and sit on father’s knee and tell him all
about this wonderful surprise.”
“You see,” and the little head is
pressed close to the faded great-coat of
the man, “after you went out I was
thinking and thinking of the story you
had just told me—of the good prince
that went out in the world to help his
father, the king. And then I remem
bered mamma used always to give yon
a Christmas present, and something
seemed saying: ‘Go, Davey, go, go !’
Ho I just put on my hat and that nice
warm scarf of yours, took tho basket,
locked the door, and went out, just like
the prince, in the cold world. I was a
little ’fraid at first; but nobody noticed
me, and I hadn’t went very far when I
came to a store—oh ! the most beautiful
store, father, with two large windows,
all full of such nice books and pretty
cards; and I was a wishing that you and
I owned just such a place when I spelt
under the window on a sign l’-h-i-n-e-a-s
—Phineas li-u-g-b-y—Rugby, and then
I knew it was the place where you
worked when mother was alive and we
hod such a nice home. And Phineas
Rugby was the man who sent you away
because you couldn’t work when dear
mamma was dying.
“Just as if you could help it"—kissing
the hand about his neck. “But I
thought perhaps he never knew what
was the matter when you didn’t come to
the store; and I was agoing in to tell
him all about it, when a little, cross
looking man came out and told me ‘if I
didn’t get away from tho door in two
minutes,’ he would have me arrested.
“I knew you didn’t want your little
boy took up in the bad station-house,
so I ran away as fast as ever I could,
and was a standing on the crossing a
shivering a little—you see it was getting
pretty cold—when a kind lady asked me
to carry her Batchel for her to her hotel
—which was only a block away from our
street, father. And when I had done it
—and it was awful light—she gave me a
whole twenty and five cents. You ought
to have seen me; I was that glad I near
forgot I was a Prince, and cried. And,
but I didn’t; I run fast to the grocery
man and buy—now oouut, father—two
caudles, five cents; two bundles of
wood, live cents; one loaf of bread, five
cents; one box of matches, one cent.
How much is that?"
“Sixteen oents.”
“And here's nine for you, right here
in my pocket, and it’s all my Christmas
present—all for you. ”
All is quiet for a minute ; then Jacoby
says, huskily;
“Keep the money for Christmas
sweets, Davey. I wish I could add
more ; but I have had no success ; every
one asks for reference. Rugby denied
me that. Rut we won't think of it to
night—’tis the blessed Christmas eve—
and God watches over and will take care
of us, if we only ask Him, Davey."
A little figure slides to the floor and
kneels with clasped hands, and reverent,
upturned face, and the prayer is an
swered ns it floats to me—miserable ! re
penting !
“Dear God, I’m only a little boy, and
a care, to my father and Thee. But
please, God, make Mr. Rugby see
father couldn’t help it, for Jesus’ sake.
Anion. ’’
The room, Jaooby and little Davey 1
now cannot see through my teurs, and I
hide my head in tho bedclothes and sob
like a child.
When I look up again, all is changed.
A largo store—hooks all about iu theii
gav, vari-colored bindings.
Fancy Christmas and New Year cards,
fancy stationery—everything speaking
of plenty. There's no one iu the store
now, save three youug clerks, and a
bookkeeper, perehud on a high stool be
hind his desk.
Clerk No. 1.--“Most time for old
Rugby. Fly about, boys. Thank good
ness, a holiday to-morrow.”
Cierk No. 2.—“ Yes, hurrah for Christ
mas; he can’t take that away from us.”
Clerk No. 1.—“I wonder if he won’t
break his heart tin's once, and ivo us a
quarter. Or, tq be honest, he might
take us all out and treat us."
Bookkeeper (head hid in ledger). —“if
he hears you, Hihipkins, lie’ll treat you
to a grand bounce. The old miser 1
When he gets hold of a dollar it’s a pris
oner for life.”
Clerk No. i).—“l’m willing to do my
duty every time. Rut it’s work, work,
from morn till night, with never a
‘Thank you.’ Never remembering we
are men as well as he, and a kind word
once in a while does a fellow as much
good as a dinner.”
♦ %***♦ +
Early, Christmas morning, and I’m
up and dressed, anew mau ! “It may
have been a dream,” I say to the clock
striking the hour of seven, “but I’ll
never believe it. I’ve been a selfish,
mercenary, short-sighted man in tho
past, thinking of nothing bnt making
and hoarding money, which never did
me or anybody else any good. I’m an
old man—l surely can’t take it with me
in the other world. I haven't a kith or
kin to leave it to in this. Phineas
Rughy, wake up! Look about you 1
There is something in life after all."
Merry Christmas to everybody.
Merry Christmas to ull.
I’m in the street now, walking along
briskly; breathing in the fresh, effer
vescing air; humming to myself, drop
ping a penny here, a penny there in the
outstretched palm of every beggar I
meet, Feeling like a boy lot loose from
a rigid school, my feet so light, with the
very thought of what I have in my
mind—that they scarcely touch the
walk. Igo into a poulterers. I buy
four large turkeys nnd send them, with
an envelope containing twenty-five dol
lars, to each of my clerks and my book
keeper—from the “old miser" (my little
revenge, I ebuekle).
I can’t spend money enough. Every
boy I meet that reminds mo in the least
of little Davey, I take in somewhere
anil buy him a turkey. Then I order
one of the best dinners that money can
procure to lie sent to No. 10 Marks
Place, Jacoby’s and Davey’s home. (I
knew where they lived, I had kept an
eye on them, but it had been a blind eye,
Phineas). And laden with all the pret
tiest books and cards I can get from the
store—my store—the store he thought
so beautiful, I go to their mean house,
not to lie so any longer, if old man
Phineas Rugby lived long onongli to
change it.
Hucli ceremony as knocking on tho
door, I forget in my excitement as T
burst in like a whirlwind—tearful, fool
ish—trying to lie merry, and failing.
"Jacoby,” I say, "forgive me, I have
been an old fool—let’s—let’s—”
He has hold of my hand now, and I
hold the other one out to little Davey as
I sav :
“Davey, my little man, your prayer is
answered. Mr. Rugby sees father con Id
not help it, and will make reparation,
for to morrow morning the sign of
Phineas Rugby will make ns a warm
fire, and in its place anew one shall bear
the names of Rugby & Jacoby—God
bless ’em.”
“Christmas comes but once a year—”
“Yet when it comes it brings Uncle
Rugby,” says Davey.
Jones asked his wife, “Why iHa hus
band like dough?" He expected she
would give it up, and he was going to tell
her that it was because a woman needs
him; but she said it was because ho
hard to get off her hands.
(,'onfuont improper couduet, not by
retaliation, but by example,
THE LIME-KILN CLUB.
H'OIMIS OK WIHUOJI IIY ItltOTlIKK.'
tt A It I>NKR.
The I'rculih'nt IMwounfm on Puain. I'ortrf
mid IVnuloiiN.
[From tho Detroit Froo Press.)
The Chairman of the Committee ou
Harmony of the Lime-Kiln Club, an
nounced his desire to submit a report,
and beiug encouraged by a smile teu
inches long ho read twelve pages of
closely written manuscript. Wuydowu
Bebee has for the last three years done
everything in his power to bring out and
euoourage poets. Several months since
Judge Congo demanded au investiga
tion, stating his belief that the priuoiple
was calculated to work evil to society,
and tho matter was turned over to the
Harmony Committee.
The Chairman now reported that he
had personally investigated several cases
as follows:
1. William Henry Green, of Indiana,
formerly au industrious mechanic with
money in the bank. Had written three
poems and one idyl, and was now iu jail
for stealing a giraffe belonging to a
circus.
2. Bradawl Watkins, of Ontario,
formerly one of tho best whitewashes
iu the civilized world. He had writtou
two isles and an obituary in vorse, and
had been lined 825 for pounding liis
wife.
!I. Judge Glucose Blindhoof, of Ohio,
formerly a blacksmith earning s!t per
day and having a laugh which could be
heard half a mile away. Had written
four verses on “Tho Dying Year,” and
yet his whole nature seemed to have un
dergone a ohango. Had had three fights
with neighbors, lost his situation, been
drunk and had applied for a divorce.
The Chairman said he could give sev
eral further instances of the fiendish re
sults of Brother Rebee’s efforts, but be
fore ho had time to do so Giveadam
Jones presented the following:
“ Resolved , Dat. from dis date de Lime-
Kiln Club will nso ebery means widin its
power to discourage do makin’ of poets
an’ do produckshuu of poetry.”
Waydowu Bobee arose to begin au ar
gument, but was shouted down and the
resolution put to vote and carried with a
whoop.
A WARNING.
Samuel Hhin then presented tho peti
tion of Liveforever Smith, a colored
resident of Detroit, but not a member of
the Lime-Kiln Club, who desired the
club to indorse his application for a pen
sion from tho government for injuries
received during the war.
“Brudder Shin," sternly replied the
President, “you raise the winder an’
drop dat paper into do alley,”
Samuel obeyed.
“Now, sail, I want to say to yon an
to all odder members, dat dis club am
not workin’ do pension racket. De man
who went to wah au’ was crippled an’
disabled desarves recompense at de
hands of his gov’ment, an’ has probably
had it fur y’ars past. De pension biz
ness of to-day am fo’-fifth swindle an’
one-fifth claim agent. Undo Sam pays
ebery dollar dat he owes to his defend
ers, an’ an applieashun at dis day should
be regarded wid astonishment, if not
suspishnn. We doan’t assist any man,
black or white, to make out dat twenty
y’ars artor lie come back from wall h#
suddenly falls lame from havin’ slept oa
do ground. Let us now blow out <1
lamps an’ go home."
How to Make a Bed.
Hays the Philadelphia Press: Lot
every bed-maker, as soon as all the
covers are spread, turn down the upper
sheet, and all above it, leaving a gener
ous margin below the bolster. Some
people, you know, pnll all the covers
straight up to the top and lay the bolster
upon them, so that when bedtime comes
they must bo rearranged at tho head.
Boys don’t like tliiß way, and perhaps
some other folks don’t either. It is the
custom to pile two big, square pillows
on the top of the bolster, and then put
on two pillow-shams, and then, some
times, or perhaps before the pillow
shams, a sheet-sham. This is setting a
trap for the unwary. Only a remark
ably careful woman is equal to tho task
of getting off all the “finery” properly.
Why not almost, if not altogether, abol
ish shams of all kinds. Why not hon
estly take off tho big, square pillows
and supply every bed with a comfortable
bolster to take the place of pillows ! If
you like adornment, embroider or deco
rate the slips and sheets themselves
without any make-believe. Bilk, laco
and tho like seem out of place oil a bod,
which should suggest repose. Imagine
a big boy with boots on flinging himself
into the midst of a fairy creation of pink
satin and torchon ! Let beds lie what
they look like, and let them look like
what they are—real resting places.
Coal Output. —The quantity sent
from anthracite mines in tho year 1883
has been 30,403,081 tons, against 28,005,-
002 tons iu 1882. There has been an in
crease of over 2,000,000 tons in the
Wyoming regions, over 400,000 each by
the Delaware and Hudson and Delaware
and Lacknwana and nearly 500,000 by
the Pennsylvania; and about 600,000
from the Schuylkill district, nearly all
by the Beading. The delivery from the
Lehigh district shows a decrease,
NO. 5.
AN lIUHH GIRL'S HEROISM.
Ncl'iinliis tu Swear la Ur I \ i„ snve O’llwit
iifll'h 1.1 Ir.
Tho Dublin News publishes a letter
from Mr. A. M. Sullivan, who was one
of Patrick O'Donnell’s counsel, entitled :
“Susan Gallagher, tho Irish Jeaunie
Deaus—an Episode of tho O’Donnell
Trial.” Mr. Sullivan describes tho con
nection of Susan Gallagher with tho
killing of James Carey, and argues that
tho facts redound to tho credit of the Irish
peasantry. In this case, ho says, a
sirnplo Donegal girl outrivaled the
Midlothian heroine in her anguish, sacri
fice, devotion nnd truth. Mr. Russell’s
masterly and irresistible argument
proved n hundred circumstances and con
siderations iu favor of Carey having
handled a pistol during tho tragedy.
Years ago O'Donnell separated from his
wife in America. While revisiting Done
gal, O’Donnell met Susan, who con
sented, under tlie representation that she
was his sister, to accompany him to tho
Cape, where they intended to marry.
When after lie returned to England she
was questioned by Messrs. Pryor and
Sullivan, Susan stated that after leaving
Cape Town she sat listless, seasick, and
dazed in tho steamer’s saloon ou a
bench; and when Mr. Sullivan ap
proached the critical point concerning
Carey’s pistol, Susan realizing the tre
mendous importr.nco of the question,
suffered intenso mental anguish and
trembled like ail aspen-leaf. Sobbing,
site replied: “My back was turned
toward them, Sir. Oh, if I had only
turned round before 1 Oh, Sir, I was not
looking the light way. I heard some
noise oil tho floor. It might linvo been
he shuffling of feet. It was a small
matter.” Mr. Sullivan adds : “Wlic
could contradict her if she testified that
she beheld Oarey with pistol in hand ?
Or what could bo easier than for her to
decline that she heard the pistol fall.”
Iu conclusion he says : “The people of
Tyrconnell may claim with pride the
humble heroine of religion and truth,
Susan Gallagher, the Irish Jeamiio
Deans.”
The Decline of Winnopeg.
This iH not a very jolly British city to
visit just now, says a newspaper corres
spondent, although, bed and board were
in such demand a year or eighteen
months ngo that tho owner of a can
vas tent twenty by sixty feet could retire
to the Lake of Como for the remainder
of liis life after a month’s rental from it.
But now all is changed; city lots that
sold as high as 81,400 a front foot are
held for an offer, and there is no one to
make it. The city lias had its boom and
high fever; and relaspo, and collospe in
in fuct, is upon the capital of the Prov
ince of Manitoba, the first city of the
great Northwest. Within two years the
rush was so great, from Upper Cannda
that there was not room in tho cars nor
in tho hotels of Winnipeg for the crowds.
Demand for anything soon begets supply,
of course, and so framo buildings quick
ly went up for hotels, and thou more
leisurely brick buildings followed, and
now it is said the hotels in that city are
as numerous as churches ill Rome, whore
the learned reader of “Haro” anil other
guide-books will remember, there aro
churches, or, more accurately speaking,
a church, for every day in the yeur. Re
tho number as it may, they are numer
ous and varied in style, from “The
Queen’s,” which is very English iu its
musty atmosphere and in tho solid
silver or plated service on the tables to
the lodging houses, in imitation of the
English, where for twopence one can
get a musty if not nasty shake-down.
“You can live on a crust a day in Eu
rope,” says Bayard Taylor, “but below
four cents for a bed you can’t go.”
But Winnipeg, save in the name and
air of its principal hotel, is not m any
mauuer an English city. You don’t seo
a “red-coat,” and the “bob”—the learned
traveler will remember that a London
policeman is called a “hob,” and he will
also remember that an English shilling
is called a bob—the “bob" in tho huge
buffalo coat will tell you that ho came
here from Wisconsin. The people in the
streets are Americans, and the wares in
the shops are Yankee. But tho heavy
swell with the glass disc in the left eye
tethered by a string to his coat, is, of
course, a Britisher. He is yaw-yawing
upon one subject or another. The city
is American, and in the character of its
houses you could imagine yourself in
Kansas or Minnesota.
Tho collapse has been a serious one,
but bottom is not touched, and from tho
inuttoriugs one hears, it is not difficult
to imagiuo that the mother country may
have a refractory South Carolina ou her
hands in the near future; that, in fact,
there may be a seceding Btuto from the
Dominion of Canada. Then tho pre
cedent of aid and comfort and rebel rams
will arise to disturb the Britisher.
“Mit. White,” said a Harrisburg law
yer to a witness in the box, “at the time
these papers were executed you were
speculating, were you not?” “Yes, sir.’
“You were in oil?” “I was.” “And
what are you iu now?” “Bankruptcy,"
was tlie solemn reply.
The Pullman Car Company have 13,-
000 blankets. If you don’t believe this
give the porter titty cents on a cold
night and lie will show you cue,
THE HUMOKOUS PAPERS.
WIIAT WU I'INII IN TIIK.VI TO I.AUUII
OVER.
wire he wobried.
Doctor—‘‘And how do you feel this
morning, my poor follow ?”
Sufferer—‘‘Much better iu most ways,
but I am afraid I wou’t mend very fast;
I worry too much.”
Doctor—- 1 “You have nothing to worry
about. You will not lose any of your
limbs nnd tho railroad company can be
made to pay heavy damages. ’’
Sufferer—“l know that; but just thiuk
of tho humiliation!”
Doctor—‘'The humiliation I”
Sufferer—Yes; I was always con
sidorod a mau of energy and aotivity,
but now my reputation is ruined. No
ono will want to employ a man who was
so lazy ns to get run ovor by an accom
modation train.”— Philadelphia Call.
MABBIKD TWO WOMEN.
“Did you hear of that man down town
who married two women iu oivl day?”
asked Fogg at tho tea table the other
evening. “Isn’t it awful!’’ exclaimed
the landlady. ‘‘Do toll us nil about it,
Mr. Fogg.” “Oil, there isn't much to
tell,” replied Fogg; “you know him
well. “1 know him! the villain!”
shrieked the landlady. “Don’t say that,
ma'am,” said Fogg, soothingly; “don't
buy that. It was the Rev. Mr. Textual,
your beloved pastor, nnd lie wouldn’t
like to hear you talk so about him. And,
by the by, he married the women to as
two likely young fellows as there are in
town.” Tho landlady says she never
could bear that Fogg.— Boston Tran
script.
AN INVALID.
“Your daughter has a touch of ma
laria,” said a physician to n New York
lady. “I will call again iu the morn
ing.”
Tho mother then went to her daugh
ter’s room with a look of groat anxiety
on her face, and said:
“My dear, tho doctor says you have
malaria. What is it? Is it dangerous ?’
“Not very, mamma, and oh, it’s so
aristocratic 1 I will wear my blue silk
wrapper, and we must get some out glass
bottles for tho medicines, and if any of
the Snuffles girls call have them brought
to my room. It will tako them down
a peg or two, I oau tell yom ”
Ami the sick young woman looked tho
very picture of happiness and content.—
Philadelphia Call.
WHAT IT MEANT.
“I never saw a man who would pick
up his clothes and put them where they
belonged,” growled Mre. Edsell as she
slammed her husband’s pants across the
back of a chnir.
“And I never saw a woman who
wouldn’t,” replied bis nibs, “and go
through all his pockets and Bift out the
best parts of his money and read all liis
business notes, and ask what 16-19 21
meant on an insurance company’s mem
orandum.”
“I don’t,” said blio.
“You do," said ho, and as ho dodged
the hair brush he ran into Jane with
both hands full of coffee and cups and
tln n went out to buy his breakfast, at
some dining room. — Hartford Sunday
Journal.
A STRIKE IN CniCAUO.
Tho proprietor of a Chicago paper
ivas sitting in his private offioo when a
boy from nji-stairs opened the door and
announced that a striko had just been
inaugurated.
“Great Scott!” exclaimed the propri
etor, turning to tho boy. “What’s tho
matter with tho printers Hub time?”
“It’s not tho printers,” he replied;
“it’s tho editors. The hull staff lias
struck. ”
“Oil,” said tho proprietor, with a sigh
of relief. “I thought it was tho print
ii s. Tell them their demands are not
complied with, and then go to tho post
olllco and get tlio exchanges. It wou’t
tako me long to write editorials enough
to last a month. I don’t need editors, r
anyway.” — I'hiladelphia Call.
HEARD IN A HOTEL.
“Who is that man, papa ?”
“He is one of our city fathers.”
“What is he doing?”
“ Ho is trying to get his dinner charged
to the city account.”
“Is he not ablo to pay for his own
food?”
“Perhaps; hut it is not the usual way
of doing business.”
“Will he succeed in converting the
clerk to his way of thinking?”
“Not this time.”
“Is he what you call a ‘trusted city
offlcial’ ?”
“He was, but ho got trusted too
much; lie pays cash now for his meftla
or gets them somewhere else.”
"Will ho go home?”
“No, ho prefers to go hungry.”
“Perhaps lie will go to work ?”
“Yes, working the free lunch route,
according to slang parlance.”
“Yes, papa, but I thought it was the
proprietor of the hotel who had worked
the free lunch route, and —”
“My child, when you are older you
will know more. No more of this sub- '
ject.”— Boaloit Courier.
Rpous Butter.— The steward of a
prominent hotel gives this advice : “Any
housekeeper can prove the honesty of
her grocer, or his Imtter, by melting it.
Pure blitter melted produces a pure,
limpid, goldou oil, and it retains the
butter flavor. Melt oleomargarine, and
tho oil smells liko tallow and looks like
tallow, and a scum rises to the surface.
Butteriue is a mixture of dairy batter
and fats. Melt that, and the butter oil
will rise to the top. Pour this off, and
you will find the fats at the bottom,
whitish in color and giving oft' a dis
agreeable smell,”