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new Home A J<»ch:r,e U JI ffl M W>® ■!•" A>rFECT :/ O ,rTICULAR I NEVER F J f ’INtVE.r» OUTOFORDER _ <•/ **s NO EQ uAU — ‘- NEWhSkmacHINEG f 30 UNION SQUARE NEWYORK. o* VC4ff o o^ an <?a olAiv>,0 lA iv>, ill. MASS GA. v FOR SALE BY I ’ll \ UR <fc C/\IN. SUMMERVILLE, GA. ■<-«X Davis The lightest running Shuttle Sewing Machine ever produced, combining greatest simplicity, durability and speed. It is adapted to a greater va riety of practical and fancy work than any other. No basting ever required. For particulars as to prices, <fcc., and for any desired information, address IHE DAVIS SEWING MACHINE CO., WATERTOWN, N. Y. 158 Tremort St., Boston, Mass. 1223 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. 113 Public Square, Cleveland, Ohio. 46, 48 & 50 Jackson St., Chicago, 111. For sale in Summerville b; J. 8. CLEGHORN A CO. ALABASTINE A Superior Substitute for Kalsomine, etc > Alaha.-'.iiio 1.- first and- preparation made front e uGiv I■■ ; n rock, for appli calion ti ■■ i. an lis fullv cov- Ih. ■ -I ; ie-.l bv many years < rit.i a.; <le.- ; tel, one over ano her. to any hard surface, without danger of scaling, or noticeably adding to the thickness of the wall, winch is strengthened and improve 1 by each additional coat, from time to time. It is the only material fur the purpose not de pendem upon glue for its adhesiveness. Alr.bnstine is hardened on the wail by ago, moisture, etc.., while all kalsomines or whit enmg preparations have inert, soft chalks mid glue for their base, which are rendered soft or -cak'd in a very short time. In addition to the. above advantages, Aialiaetinc is lesj expensive, as it requires but one-half the number of pounds to cover the same amount of surface with two coats, is ready for use by adding water, and easily applied by any one. For rale by your Paint Dealer. Ask for Circular containing Samples of 12 tints, manufactured only by the Alabastixe Co., M. B. Chlbch, Manager, Grand liapids, Mich. * PURE r- VOW PAINTS ReadyForUse Olives, Terra Cottas and all the latest fashionable shades for CITY COUNTRY OR SEASIDE. Warranted durable and permanent. Descriptive Lists, showing 32 actual shades, sent on application. For sale by the principal dealers, wholesale and retail, throughout the country. Ask for them and take no others. BILLINGS, TAYLOR & GO. CLEVELAND, OHIO. GREAT STRENGTH OF SLVXEBS. “My dear boy,” said an earnest Sun day-school teacher at the North End Mission to a frowsy urchin, “do you know that we are al! sinners ?” “Yes, marm.” “Do you know that you are a sinner?” “Yes, marm.” A long and earnest talk followed, in which the claims of the gospel were fully set forth, but the teacher was only rewarded by an unintelligible stare. Finally, it occurred to the teacher that perhaps she had taken the boy be yond h' - depth, and she inquired: “John, you know what a sinner is, j don’t you ?" “Sinners, m.-.rm? ch, yes; sinners is ' Strings in turkeys* legs, ton G'obe. j @ljc VOL XL •I SANDS’ —-■» PATENT TRIPLE FREEZERX The only Freezer ever made having three distinct motions inside the can. thereby, of course, produc ing finer and smoother Cream than any other Freezer on the market. 300,000 in use. Catalogue and Price List Jbailed upon application. WHITE MOUNTAIN FREEZER CO., NASHUA, N. H. A RAILROAD DISASTER ({cminlMccDcrs of the Accident at Gasco nade Bridge In .UiwNonri. The presence in Denver of Mr. O. A. Reed, the Chicago Traveling Agent of .he Chicago, Burlington A Quincy Rail way, calls to miad one of the most hor rible railway disasters that is known in the annals of railroading. It occurred in October, 1857, at the. time of the opening of the Missouri Pacific Railway from St. Louis to Jefferson City, Mis souri, and it is known as the Gasconade i bridge disaster. In the morning of the day on which the accident happened sixteen coaches filled with the most prominent men of St. Louis started out from that city filled with the brightest anticipations ol a delightful trip, and among the passengers was Mr. Reed. In the train there was also a commissary car filled with the choicest wines and liquors, and amply supplied with eata bles. Eighty-eight miles west of St. Louis the Gasconade River empties into the Missouri, and within sight of the latter stream the railway stream crosses tho Gasconade. The bridge over the Gasconade had been tested, aud so con fident was the engineer who built it that he rode upon the locomotive. When the train reached this bridge the passen gers wore in the midst of luncheon, and the white-aproned darkeys were in the act of carrying tho wines and liquors through the cars, and no thought of danger appeared to enter the minds of a single one of the hundreds who were upon the train. Suddenly the crash came and tho engine plunged through the broken bridge into the river below. It was followed by several of the cars, while all but one of the others were jerked from tho rails and thrown across the track. A scene which is beyond de scription followed and the destruction of life was fearful. Mr. Reed wa s sitting next to the window, about the centre of one of the cars, and he attributes his escape to the fact that he had just a moment or so before raised the window. The weather was misty and he desired to look at a steamboat which was opposite them in the Missouri River, and he raised the window for the purpose of getting a clearer view. When the crash came his car plunged forward into the water, but the rear portion of it rested on the unbroken part of the bridge. Mr. Reed caught the side of the window with his hands and this prevented him from falling into the front part of the car, as it stood upon end in the water. Almost all the other passengers fell, a confused and mangled mass, into the end of the car and with them went the stove aud other articles not securely fastened. The gentleman who sat in the same seat with Mr. Reed was one of those who fell forward, and he was also among the killed. Altogether there were forty-four persons killed in the ac cident and about fifteen subsequently died from their injuries. There was only one lady in the party and she es caped without the slightest injury. The civil engineer who built the bridge and who was riding on the engine was among the dead. To this day the accident on the Gas conade bridge is spoken of in Missouri as one of the most horrible of which the people of that State have any knowl edge.—Denver Tribune. Doctor (who has been sent for at 2 a. m.)—“Madame, pray send at once for the clergyman, and, if you want to rank- yonr will, for the lawver.” Madame (horrified) —“Good gracious ! Is it so dangerous, doctor?” Doctor— “ Not a bit of it; but I don’t want to be the only fool who has been disturbed in his sleep for nothing.” New Style Cabman (to military-look - ing chap on the avenue)—Hansom, Captain? Supposed Military Chap— “ Well, y-e-s—so they tell me. Cab man (softo voce)—The bloody mug wump.”—Life - —— - - A correspondent asks if it is proper to i dance with a married lady when her i husband is looking on. Certainly. The dancing is sure to be very proper under i such circumstances, SUMMERVILLE. GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING. OCTOBER 8, 1884. ZA Mom. The Day is dead. Bee how his life-blood dyes Tho soft cloud-pillows in the western skies. What tho’ a smile still glorifies his eyes ? I tell you he is dead 1 Why loiter here Till those unsightly proofs of death appear, And the sad Night drops tears upon his bier? Nay, let us go, while yet the skies aro red, Ere Darkness draws the curtains of his bed, Our last look finds him beautiful, tho’ dead. Dear Love is dead; slain by his own delight, What tho’ his feverish cheek is strangely bright, I tell you he lies dead in all his might Let us not wait till on his rigid face There rests no lingering luster, aud no trace Os his surpassing beauty and young grace; Ere ’round his stiffening frame, from head to feet, ; Satiety shall fold her winding sheet, While his still form, tho’ dead, is fair and sweet. Let us shake hands. There is no more to say. We part with Love until the Judgment Day— Tins is the end of dreams like ours alway. Ella Wheeler. ' Mount Desert. BY 0. E. DAVIS. “Aud so you leave Mount Desert and pleasure to-morrow, Miss Young? You have made the summer doubly pleasant to me—pleasant as I always find vaca tion time.” “It is very good of you to say so, Mr. Darley, and I’m snre you have made Mount Desert very pleasant to us. In deed, my mother was saying only this morning how useful and nice to us yon have been. But, you see, she must bo getting back to New York now; there are the boys going away to school, and all that.” “Well, I suppose it is necessary. But you won't like leaving ?” “Why, of course it is. No, I shall be very sorry to leave; and yet I shall be glad for some things to get back. It will feel so much like home after all this traveling and seeing all these things.” “Yes, no doubt you will bless the first brick house and dull pavements you see in town ; they give your eyo such a sense of relief and quiet.” “You are going to stay on here some time with Mr. Paget, are you not? He tells mo now you have left the hotel where you met us, you have got such pleasant rooms. ” “No, I don’t think I shall stay on here any longer after this week.” “Why, I thought you intended to stay right on into the fall, and he in tended to read all the gossiping old his torians, and you meant to hunt up every kind of fish that could possibly live in these cold Maine waters,” “So I did ; but I’m not going to now. I’m going to leave. I’m tired to death of it.” “Why, just now you said it was al ways pleasant; and what will Mr. Paget do ?” “Oh, Paget I Paget I I suppose he’ll come with me or else he won’t. I used to think Mount Desert pleasant, but I don’t now.” “Well, you are a changeable person.” “So would you be if But do you really think me a changeable person, Miss Young ?” “No, Mr. Darley, I don’t think—at least I didn’t think that you were ?” “Well, but what did you think about me? I think you thought something about me.” “Perhaps I did. One thinks some thing about everybody, you know; but perhaps I don’t think it now. ” “I suppose you thought something about Mr. Paget, too?” “Oh, yes, I thought something about Mr. Paget, of course. I like him very much.” “But how differently did you think when you thought about Mr. Paget and myself ?” “That’s a very difficult question. I —at least we—thought you very nice, too; but ” “But—but what, Miss Young?” “Oh, nothing, except that I thought so.” “But I want to ask you how differ ently you thought, and I want you to understand me, and not to look too serious.” “Why, you don’t think I’m serious, do you ?” “Well, as a rule, you are not serious, certainly; yon are delightfully gay. But there is a certain quality of seriousness about you; and you are always very serious when I want to say anything to to you. Remember how serious you were that day when we looked at the old wharves over in Rockland ?” “Yes, but that was some time ago, and But let us talk of something else and be friends.” “But we are friends, are we not? Only ” “I say, Darley, come along. Mrs. Young says she’d like to look inside the new hotel before we get into the car riage. though it does look like a meet- Tig-house except for the tower.” “Oh, I don’t care for the hotel, thanks, and I believe, Miss Young, you would, would you not, prefer to finish yonr sketch of that yacht ? It will lie <.on done now.” “Yes, perhaps, I should ; that is, I think that I ought to finish it.” •‘Ail right, Paget: we’ll join you in five minutes- I’d just like‘to sketch the coast in the distance myself; it looks so well just now with the sun on it.” “Well, don't be long coming down.” “Had you not better get your sketch book out now they have gone, Mr. Dar ley, and begin the coast ?” “Oh, my sketch-book I Oh, I suppose I have forgotten it!’’ “Never mind, here’s a leaf from my block; and here’s a pencil.” “Thanks; but I don’t want to sketch at all.” “You are changeable, indeed I” “I want to sit here aud talk to you and look at you, as you are going away to-morrow.” “But if you look at mo 1 shall be em barrassed and unable to sketch. 100. Be sides, you know tho coast looks so well just now, with the sun on it.” “Bother tho coast.” “What, tho coast that yon nsed to rave about, with its grass mosses of rock aud the white spray darting up in clouds against it! You used to say it reminded you of what—what did it remind you of ?” “I really don’t know. Bnt I wish you were not going away to-morrow. I don’t know when I shall see you again, if I ever do. “Why, mother asked yon to come and see us, if yon ever found yourself in New York.” “If I ever do! I suppose I should run over from Boston and you will ask me to dinner; and then you would show me your house, and, perhaps, your fa vorite seat in the library; and Mrs. Young would be very distant, and you would bo very stiff and reserved, and un like what you are at Mt. Desert.” “What a splendid picture, down to the easy-chair, even ! And my good brother will look at yon through his eye glass, and offer you a cigar, and say queer fellow or good fellow of you, ‘should think,’ when you ore gone. But you won’t really leave Mt. Desert?” “Yes, I shall, and knock about some where, spending my time as uselessly ns 1 usually spend it. But do you truly expect mo to come some day, Miss Young?” “Yes; I shall be very much disap pointed if you don’t come. We have been such ttood friends, and mother likes you, and—and wo have been such good friends, you know.” “Then I certainly shall try to come. And, perhaps—will you let mo begin to talk again as I did that day at Rock land ?” “I don’t know. But I can’t sketch if you put your arm across my block, Mr. Darley. And I think it’s quite finished now—l could finish it at home.” “Never mind finishing it; let us finish something else, which may remain un finished forever if wo don’t do it now. Please look mo in (he eyes, and let me go on with what I said on the beach at Rockland a month ago. Only then you said it was very painful and sudden, and you had never dreamed of it. Have you ever done so since ?” “Mr. Darley, I think—but I hear Mr. Paget calling. We must go home. ” “Bnt may I not come home with you —I mean to New York, and further? Will you not trust mo to fin I you a home ?” “Darley, Darley, where are you?” “Your eyes look yes, and your lips say ‘Yes.’ Thank you, thank you; it shall be indeed a home.” “Darlev. 1 say. didn’t vou hear me? What a long five minutes your sketch takes! It’s getting late, and Mrs. Young is in the carriage. But—l hope nothing is the matter, Miss Young ?” “No; nothing at all, thank you.” “No, nothing is the matter, Paget, and I’m sorry for being so late. But, you see, Miss Young and I have settled —I mean we have arranged- -to leave Mount Desert and go homo—to make a homo, you understand.” Domestic Monthly. An Adventure in a Bridge. Once upon a time—a good many years j ago—a lady and gentleman got permis sion to walk through tho tubular bridge at Conway, Ireland, which was then a curiosity. A railway porter was with them and told them no train was expect ed on that line, so they went into the tube and darkness. A strange gentle man who had joined them went on first, because tho lady could not go so quick ly and, of course, her husband remained to assist her over the rails and stones and the girders which support the sides. But when the couple had got half way through the first man was at the end and saw the down Irish mail ap ? proaching on the very line on which his , acquaintances were 1 He called out. “Take care of yourselves, a train is com ing,” and then he waved his hands to the engine driver. The lady and gentleman in the ‘tube” could not stand up at the side and so they hurried back. It was a terrible race. The “Wild Irishman” whistling and roaring, hissing and strain ing at the brakes close behind; in front only a few yards to the station, bnt such long yards 1 On came the train, and just as the gentleman rushed from the “tube” and dragged the lady down, the express came out grinding and growling. They were only just saved by two yards from a terrible death.— Little Folks' Mauazine. — We have noticed that people who go to watering places for change always take particular pains to carry plenty of it with them, MEN AND MULES RUN MAD. AN EPIDEMIC OF fl YDKOPIfOB! \ ON AN ALABAMA PLANTATION. Thlny-Kvo Ncgro?M Ni< k from Entiii« a Plr Unit hml liven Bitten by a Mnd !»<»«—Tin* Plnnter’a Wild Itnccto Escape n Al ml Mule. A dispatch from Eufaula, Ala., dated Aug. 28th says:—The people in this neighborhood are in a state of tremen lons excitement over the wholesale spread of hydrophobia on the plantation of Punch Doughtie. Dr. E. B. Johnson has just returned from Mr. Doughtie’s plantation where ho had been sum moned. Ho found thirty-two persons suffering with a disease which he at once pronounced hydrophobia in a mild form. All the sufferers are negroes. Three of them are desparately sick, one being in the throes of delirium, and so low that the doctor says he is liable to die at any moment. More than three weeks ago a hog bit ten by a dog died on Mr. Doughtie’s plantation and was given to the negroes to be converted into soap grease. In stead of utilizing it for this purpose, thirty-two negroes on the place and in tho neighborhood ate tho flesh of the hog. Mr. Dough tie says that on July 25, one of his dogs wont mad and bit a mule and several hogs. On Aug. 13, the first hog died, and was eaten by the negroes. Two more died on Aug 18, one on Aug. 22, and one on Aug. 27, and all were eaten except the last, when the partak ers of the poisoned flesh became sick. Tho mule exhibited signs of madness on the nineteenth day after being bitten. Eleven days after the hog was eaten, ten of the negroes were taken sick. Two days ago another dog was discovered to be mad, and was killed after having bit ten a mule. Another dog on the lot is now housed, and will be experimented with for a cure. Tho dog that bit the mule and hogs disappeared, and the whole neighborhood is in terror lest ho went among the cattle and hogs throughout the belt before dying. A dozen out of the thirty-two eaters of tho affected hogs are seriously sick, and the developments among the others are awaited with the greatest interest. Dr. Johnson, an able physician, says that it is a terrible case, aud that he fears the worst. He says that it would not surprise him if tho greater number of the thirty-two persons died. A few days ago Mr. Dough tie rode out, at the request of a field hand, to inspect the condition of one of his mules, which was acting strangely. On reach ing the pasture where a dozen mules were, the animal Mr. Doughtie was riding neighed, which attracteu the at tention of the other animals, and tue sick one particularly, which immediately rushed on the mule and rider, and seized the saddle of the animal with his teeth. Mr. Doughtie dismounted and succeeded in loosening the mad mule’s hold, but no sooner was this done than the infuri riated beast turned upon his owner, who fled for his life, pursued by the mule. There was a desparate race of a quarter of a mile through undergrowth, and Mr. Doughtie only saved himself by dodging around saplings. A small stretch of clearing intervened between the woods and the house, and the terrified man took a life-and-death chance on making it. Before leaving the woods the mule had bitten out a piece of Mr. Doughtie’s coat, and while manmuvring around the tree, the animal bit himself savagely in several places, tearing out a mouthful of flesh each time. The race for the house was a close one, and just as Mr. Dough tie reached the top of the fence the mule overtook him on a dead run, but instead of reaching his victim, struck his head against a fence post in a wild rush and was knocked senseless. The mule was afterward killed by Mr. Bought ie. It is now reported that the whole herd of mules are affected. Many of them have leaped the fences and will doubtless, spread the disease among other animals in the neighborhood. The community is at a loss how to arrest the disease. - Ron nd Hats. Harper's .Bazar says: Round hats are in the ample and compact shape worn during the summer, with rather high crown, and a narrow brim that is rolled alike on both sides and in front, or it may be pointed upward directly above the forhead, or slightly wider on the left side, but it is always very nar row behind, hats being designed, as the bonnets are, to be worn with the hair dressed high. Felt hats trimmed with velvet and a bunch of feathers directly in front will be most used, but there are also many velvet hats trimmed with China crape that may be plain or else embroidered with gold. The velvet trimming is a smooth or folded band around the crown, and a facing on the brim. The ornamental galloons and passementeries are sometimes added on this velvet facing. Wing clusters made up of small pointed wings are much used on round hats. The shapely point ed Pierrot hats, sugar-loaf crowns, and melon-shaped crowns, are shown in felt and cloth for girls and misses. The Tam o’Slianter is also imported, made of cloth red, blue, gray, or brown— embroidered with crescents or sprays Jone iu gilt threads or in silk of tfie same or a contrastiug color, NO. 38. THE LAST MATCH. A Little Sketch of tho 111-fated Gtecly Expedition. Old soldiers who remember the picket line and the rifle pit, old hunters, and even the experienced picknicker, know well what it is to be reduced to the last match. That sole occupant of the pocket match-safe is the last chance for a fire, for a torch in the thick darkness, for a savory meal or a dish of tea, for a flash of light on a watch face or a com pass. So, too, it may be all that inter poses between the destruction and the deliverance of a lost or shipwrecked band. Few incidents of the famous Greely expedition to the northern seas make so vivid an impression upon the mind as one recorded by Sergeant George B. Rice, who did not live to return to his homo and friends. A sledge party was de tailed to visit and examine Hall’s Rest on the coast of Greenland. In the course of this expedition the stock of matches that the men had brought was reduced to one. It was a miserably cold evening, when the shivering group of men gathered in their damp tent to watch the attempt to ignite, by this sin gle match, the spirit lamp upon which their lives depended. The lamp once lighted, there was warmth and warm food at their command; the lamp un lighted, there was not vital force left in the party to resist the fatal chill of the Arctic night. With what breathless in terest the experiment was watched, we can scarcely imagine. “The match,” wrote Sergeant Rice in his diary, “ snapped, crackled, and showed a little flame which by dexterous management was communicated to tho wood and triumphantly applied to the wick of the spirit lamp. But, the wick is wet from the falling moisture of tho tent 1 It sputters fizzles the match itself is burned up to the benumbed fin gers of the holder, when one of the agonized spectators springs from his bag aud, with admirable presence of mind, withdraws from his breast pocket a document, which he holds to the expir ing match in time to perpetuate its fire. They are saved 1” But this is not all the story. Tho ser geant intimates that the “document” that saved their lives was far more pre cious than anything documentary. It was the last fond and tender epistle wnich its owner had received from his sweetheart before sailing. He had worn it as an amulet next his heart, and would have died rather than surrender it at any ordinary call. To save his comrades be drew it forth, and gave it to nourish the flame which alono could warm them back to life. Sergeant Rice concludes the day’s en try by expressing the wish that tho burning of the letter to assist the match made on earth may conduce to the con summation of the “match made in heaven.” Who will not lament that the worthy and witty soldier did not survive to witness the realization of his desire ? The Latest Fashions, AUTUMN DRESSES. The woolen dresses imported for street suits for the early autumn aro distin guished by severe plainness in design and in trimmings, depending for their beauty on the fine fit of the corsage and the graceful flowing lines of the skirt and its drapery. The corsage may, if preferred, be a simple round waist with out basque or sash, merely finished by a belt ribbon with front bow. This round waist is long, and has high darts that give an appearance of slenderness; the back may have either one or two side forms on each side, and there is a seam down the middle; the standing collar is very high and the shoulders are short, meeting a sleeve that is rounded high on the front, but which has less of the pad ded puffed fullness about the armhole than those lately worn. These details are confined to the lining of the dress, as the outside may be put on in varied ways; thus it may be laid smoothly up on the lining or it may be gathered at the neck and waist line in front and back, or else the gathers may be confined to the front only and the back may be quite plain; or, again, the fullness may 1 be only at the bolt and spread out in fan ! style, becoming plain on tho shoulders; or, still further, this fullness may be 1 held in small pleats or tucks instead of gathers. The preference, however, for heavy wool goods is for the plain smooth waist, and this can be diversified by in troducing a vest, or a square plastron which may be full or flat, or by the use of revers or bretelles extending from the shoulders to the waist. Modistes here prefer to make round waists separate from the skirt, lengthening it a few inches below the waist line, and thrust ing that part under the belt to which the skirts are attached; on English dresses, however, the skirts are sewed perma nently to the waist, which is finished by a welting cord in the old fashioned way.— Harvefs Bazar. “James, 1 nnd a Dad quarter in the till; have you any idea where it came from ?” “No, sir; that is, I should say, do yon, ah, do you attend the Tenth Church, sir?” “Yes.” "Don’t Deacon Swift take up tho collection, sir?” “Yes.” “Well, Deacon Swift was in here a short time ago and bought somo sugar— ’’ “You uwtf go to <lixuier, James,* THE HUMOROUS PAPERS. WHAT WE FIND IN THEM TO HMII.E OVER. A LITTLE QUARREL. Two ladies bad had a little tiff, and one ol them remarked as she departed: “Well, as I told my husband this morning, I shouldn’t care to be in your shoes.” “I imagine not,” the other replied. “You would find them painfully close fitting.” WITH A KEEN SENSE. “Look here,” said Colonel Bloster, addressing an acquaintance whom ho suddenly met in turning a corner, “you aro a very long time in paying that bilk You do not seem to care.” “Oh, yes I do, Colonel.” “No, sir, you do not. You do not seem to remember your obligation.” “Oh, T remember it, Colonel. If I did not, I would not cross the street to avoid meeting you. I have a keen sense of obligation, otherwise I would not bo ' put to so much trouble.” “Now here; you are not acting right ly. Just put yourself in my place and——” “Impossible, Colonel. I cannot put myself in your place. I cannot imagine yonr feelings, for no one ever owed me.” —Arkansaw Traveler. THE LONG, LONG DAY. Visitor to Nantucket—For goodness’ sake tell me what you do here in the winter? Native—Oh, we get on pretty well. We go to bed at sunset and sleep next day till noon; then wo get up and pray for night to come, that we may go to bed again.”— Boston Transcript. A CRUEL MAN. Mother (to married daughter)—“Why, What’s the matter, Clara? What are yon crying about?” Clara—“ Henry is so cruel (sob), he is getting worse and worse every day (sob). What do you suppose he said just now? He told me I must get rid of cook; ho couldn’t stand her cooking any longer (sob). And he knows wel enough that she hasn’t done one bit or cooking for a fortnight, and that I have done it all myself 1 800-hoo 1 boo-hoo 1” —Boston Transcript. A RAINY DAY. Mrs. Winks —“Did you notice in tho Arctic reports that the exploring party, after running out of food, kept them selves alive on seal skin ?” Mr. Winks—“ Yes. It is strange that it should contain so much nutriment. But speaking of starvation reminds me that we have not saved a penny this yea.-. It won’t do to go on that way, you know.” “Certainly not, and that is what I was going to speak about. We must lay up something for a rainy day. We don’t know how soon we may meet with mis fortune.” “True, and ns Uncle Jake has prom ised to send me a present of SSOO iu the fall, I think it would boa good starter, don’t you ?” “Just the thing, dear. Buy me a SSOO sealskin sacque for a Christmas present, and if the worst comes to the worst—we can cat it, you know.”— Dhtla. Call. SUNDAY CLOSING. New York Alderman—“No use letting John go to the public library. All of them are closed on Sundays.” Mrs. Aiderman—“Oh 1 you must be mistaken. I know one was open Sun days this spring, because I was there myself.” “Yes, it was then, but wo have had them closed up since.” “Why, what for?” “Well, the fact is they interfered with the business of my saloon.”— The Call. - THE CATTLE PLAGUE. Prof. Low of Cornell University OfTcro Nome Nn«u<*NtioiiH. Prof. James Law, tho celebrated Vet erinary Professor of Cornell University, being questioned concerning the pleuro pneumonia now creating some excite ment among Western cattle-breeders, said that he had something to say on the subject. His remarks summed up are as follows: Ist. The plagne having been allowed to reach the West, it is no longer safe to purchase stock cattle that have been carried by rail or other public convey ance; that have been in public sales, mar kets, fairs or other assemblages of cattle, or that have been in contact with cat tle so exposed. 2d. Stock cattle should be taken only from well-known herds that have had no deaths nor sickness for six months, nor any additions made to their numbers in that length of time, nor any contact with adjacent or passing herds. 3d. Stock cattle should not be carried home by rail or other public conveyance, unless these shall have been first thor oughly cleansed and disinfected, and un less the train has carried no other cattle on that trip. , 4th. Any stock cattle carried home by rail, etc , as above, even when this is ’ done under disinfectant precautions, 1 should be carefully secluded in quar antine, under separate attendance, for three mouths, until they are found non infecting. sth. Butchers and dealers handling fat stock destined for slaughter, should on no account allow them or their prod ucts to come in contact with stock cat tle. Gtb. All public carrying companies should cleanse all cattle-carrying cars and boats, and disinfect them with a lime whitewash containing four ounces of chloride of lime to each gallon of water. 7tb. These precautions should be kept up until by Federal and State action the plague shall have been stamped out, should this still be possible. nk John is becoming a ( . : :. ;he city ?” said a fanner, > iiug of his absent son to-a compan ion of the youth. “Great man 1 I should say so. Why there ain’t a bar keeper in the city hardly, that he don't call by bis first name.”