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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,”