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JffW H ??wtffiMACHIUEG
f 30 UNION SQUARE NEW YORK
LA,V <4
ili. MASS GA.
FOR SALE BY ,
PH A I ’ U tt CATN.
SUMMERVILLE, GA.
* ok* new
I
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. &c„ and
for any desired information, address
IHE DAVIS SEWING MACHINE CO.,
WATERTOWN, N. Y.
158 Tremor t St.. Boston, Mass.
1223 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa.
113 Public Square, Cleveland, Ohio.
46, 48 & 50 Jackson St., Chicago, 111.
For Rale in Summerville b)
J. 8. CLEGHORN & CO.
ALA BAS TINE
A Superior Substitute
for Kalsomine, etc
If Alahnstino is the ifr.'/ami <. y prepn, s' ai
tnatlefrom calcined gvp- :m ruck, Ibr app:i
cation to wall- '.' Uli a brush. ami i- i . - v
ere<l bv inUi’utJ .>>><t .>>•• fa-.-t.-il bv man' :
V... n .., . ;>>g as many
coats as desired, one over anoilier, L> any
hard snrface, without danger of scaling or
noticeably adding to the thickness of the
wall, which is strengthened and improve >v
each additional coat, from time to time. It
is the only material for the purpose not de
pendent upon glue for its adhesiveness.
Alabiistine is hardened on the nail by a .u?.
moisture, etc., while all kalsomines or whit
ening preparations have inert soft chalks
ami glue for their base, which are rendered
soft or scaled in a very short time.
In addition to the above advantage.’.
Alahastine is less ex|>en.-ive, as it n■ miri-s
hut 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 sale by your Paint Dealer. Ask for
Circular containing Samples of 12 tints
manufactured only by the Alabastine Co..
M. B. Church, Manager, Grand Rapids, Mich.
T PURE s
PAINTS
ReadyForUse
Olives, Terra Cottas and all the latest
fashionable shades tor
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 &. CO.
CLEVELAND, OHIO.
After the Rabbits.—The New Zea
land Government has authorized an
agent to collect two hundred stoats and
weasels for the purpose of thinning out
the rabbits in that colony. Each ani
mal is expected to cost about 330 before
it is landed.
... - -—■
Gas.—The use of natural ga» in Pitts
burgh manufactories is steadily increas
ing, and now the right has been sold to
a man who will try to introduce it into
houses for heating purposes
■»- .
‘'Colonel,” said a man who wanted to
make out a genealogical tree, “C ...iit-l,
how can I bec.-me thor<>ngljly ac
quainted with my family history ?
“Simply by running for President,” an
swered the colonel.
@ljc 3iiminermUe ©ajettc.
VOL XI. SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 5, 1884. NO. 42.
SANDS’ —-•
PATENT TRIPLE
The only Freezer ever made having three distinct
motions inside the can, thereby, of course, produc
ing liner and smoother Cream than any other
t reezer on the market.
300,000 in use. Catalogue and Price List
tailed upon application.
WHITE MOUNTAIN FREEZER CO,
NASHUA, N. H.
A Severe Sentence.
Judge David Davis, who for eight
years rode the same judicial circuit in
Illinois with Abraham Lincoln, related
many capital anecdotes about him. One
was a scene in court soon after Davis
was appointed Judge, when Lincoln had
defended a fellow named Lindsay, who
had been indicted for highway robbery.
Lindsay had pleaded guilty, in the hope
that the Couit would give him the
lightest sentence imposed by law. The
crime, however, had no lenient features,
and the character of its perpetrator was
very bad. At the close of the term Lind
say was arraigned for sentence. The
Judge alluded to the youth of the pris
oner, and dwelt upon the enormity of
his crime. He had robbed a helpless
man of his hard-earned wages, and com
mitted a crime that the law character
ized as akin to murder. Gathering
wrath and indignation as he proceeded,
the Judge closed his phillippio with the
words: “Lindsay, I sentence yon to
seven years in the Illinois Legislature !”
Abraham Lincoln was a quiet observer.
He arose with a quaint gleam of humor
on his face, and said: “May it please
your Honor, as the friend of the Court,
allow me to suggest that the Constitution I
coes not permit cruel and unusual pun- I
ishment. Your Honor has sent this man i
to the Legislature when he ought to go I
to the Penitentiary.”
“The difference is so slight that the
Court has no hesitation n adopting the |
suggestion of its learned and experienced |
adviser,” the Judge responded. There- i
upon he imposed the full sentence of
the law, and everybody laughed except I
the defendant and his counsel.— Hen. I
Perley Poore.
Meteorological.
The Committee on Meteorology of
the Lime-Kiln Club reported that Prof, i
Y. J. Clark’s predictions for the re- 1
mainder of the year had been received
in good shape, and they were sent to the
Secretary's desk to lie read:
October—ls this month don’t pan out
thirty-one days, taxpayers ought to kick
for their rights. Frosts can be looked
for any time after the 10th. Flies will
begin to lie abed longer in the morning,
and the man who sold you a patent
churn in the spring will drop in jnst as
you begin to feel sanguine he is dead.
Straw hats will hang on, but in a sheep
ish sort of way.
November—First blood for fall. Man
who leaves the door open will have his
attention attracted to the fact that the
saw-mill is two squares further up the
street. Good time to hnnt up sore
throat remedies and decide whether to
buy an overcoat or move South. Begin
to see what an idiot you were to wish
for winter,
Decemlxir—Considerable weather dur
ing this month. Man who wrote “Beau
tiful Snow,” will show up by the 20th.
Sun umbrellas and bare-armed women
retire for the season. Winds might be
cooler, but are doing fairly well for De
cember. The second-hand cutter offered
you in July for $2.75 is now marked 314.
Any boys in your neighborhood who
ought to he in Heaven should lie
coaxed into trying the ice on the river.—
Detroit Free Press,
Trades Unions.
The first we hear of trades unions in
America was in 1806, when a trial of
eight persons was held on the charge
of “combining to increase wages, to
keep others from working, and to es
tablish arbitrary rules over working
men.” A combination of this sort
had been practiced for some years pre
viously, and some remarkable cases of
the pursuit of those who had not joined
the union were brought out at the trial.
The prisoners were reprimanded, fined,
ar.d made to pay the costs of the suit.
“Sib,” said a barber to a lawyer who
was passing his door, “will yon tell me
if this is a good ten-shilling piece?”
The lawyer, pronouncing the piece
good, deposited it in his waistcoat
pocket, arlding, with great gravity, “If
you’ll let your lad run round to my
f ffiet-, I’ll send you back the three-apd
tourpence change.”
FOLDING THEIR TENTS.
“The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
“I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mint,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er mo
That my soul cannot resist -
“A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorry only
As the mist resembles the rain.
“Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling
And banish the thoughts of day.
“Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime
Whoso distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of time;
“For like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
“Read from some humbler poet.
Whose songs gushed from his heart
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
“Who. through long days of labor
And nights devoid of case.
Still heard In his soul the music
Os wonderful melodies.
“Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
“Then read the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
“And the nights shall be tilled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.”
Lonofeli ow.
Daisy’s Love.
“There !” said Herbert Winfield.
He was sitting on the sunny south
door-step of the great, fragrant, hay
scented barn, where the sunbeams inter
laced each other like slender, waving
threads of gold, and the boughs of the
old button-ball tree moved softly in the
summer breeze.
He was a bright-eyed, bright-faced
young fellow, dressed in a cool, white
linen suit, with the glitter of a diamond
stud at his throat, and slender, shapely
hands, and close beside him Daisy Wal
lace sat with the pretty bunds folded on
her lap.
She was a daisy by nature as well as
by name—a fresh-faced, sunny-haired
little creature, whoso big, brown eyes
were shaded by long, dark lashes, and
whose nose turned up at the end the
least bit in the world, giving a roguish
piquancy to the whole expression of her
countenance.
“How did you do it?” said Daisy,
with her scarlet lips apart and the brown
eyes limpid with interest.
“Oh, I managed,” said Herbert.
He had split a tiny gold dollar in two
and wrought a hole in each through
which he had passed slender blue rib
bons.
“Do you like them, Daisy ?”
“Very much.”
“Then you shall wear one and I the
other, as pledges of our engagement.”
Daisy blushed and laughed, as Her
bert suspended the golden trinket round
her neck, and then glanced down at the
broad engagement ring, that circled the
forefinger of her left hand, Herbert’s
eye following her look.
“You do not regret it, Daisy?”
“Regret it? No, Herbert !’’
“Because, Daisy, you arc so young 1”
“I am not too young to know my own
mind, Herbert,” she said, with an as
sumption of dignity which was very
pretty to look upon. “I was sixteen last !
week 1”
Sixteen 1 Daisy Wallace felt all the
dignity of her mature years. Sixteen
years old and engaged I
And they sat there, under the shallow
of the button-ball tree, with the
fragrance, of the new hay coming ever
and anon to theinsenses, talking of the
house which was one day to be theirs,
and even deciding, in boy and girl
fashion, what was to be the color of their
carpets, and the special flowers to be
planted in the garden, and even the pat- j
tern of the antique furniture which was -
to decorate Herbert’s library !
“How foolish we are’.” he said, at
length, starting up with a laugh.
“Yes, but it is very pleasant to be |
foolish !” Daisy answered, smiling and
blushing in the same instant.
Yet, engaged lovers though they
were, Daisy had a woman’s coquettish
little instincts, and in the course of time
they wrought trouble between the
young hearts!
“I don’t like it, Daisy !” Herbert said,
stoutly.
“That’s because you are so old-sash- ;
ioneel in your ideas,” said Daisy, erect- .
ing her slight figure, to look as digni
fied as possible. “All the girls arc de
lighted with Mr. Sykesleigh.”
“All the girls are not engaged to be
married !” retorted Herbert, bitterly.
“Does it follow that because I am en
gaged I am to lie a prisoner ?”
“Daisy, you know better than that.” j
“You are too exacting, Herbert. I
hope you are not going tn turn a j-alons I
lover.”
“I am not jealous, Daisy,” he an
swered, a little coldly; “but I do not '
like to see the woman who is to be my
wife receiving attentions from a man
whose chsracter is, to say tho best of it,
uncertain.”
Daisy pouted, and tore tho petals off
tho bunch of roses she wore in her belt.
“You will not encourage him any
more, Daisy ?” pleaded Herbert after a
moment of silence.
“I have not encouraged him, Her
bert.”
“At all events,” Herbert Winfield an
swered, “you know how I feel upon the
subject now, and I trust you will respect
my opinions.”
He went away, for the first time dur
ing their engagement, without a kiss,
anil Daisy, standing there on the piazza,
thought how very unreasonable Herbert
Winfield was growing.
But a pretty girl of sixteen cannot
always regulate her freaks and fancies,
ns if sho were a staid matron of six and
forty—and the very next day Miss Daisy
allowed herself to be coaxed to a picnic
party, where Mr. Revere Sykesleigh was
one of tho principal actors, and, of
course, Mr. Sykesleigh, being to a cer
tain degree responsible for her presence,
was obliged, not at all unwillingly, to see
her there.
And, ns ill luck would have it, sho
was just driving up to the door, sitting
by Mr. Sykesleigh’s side, when Herbert
Winfield entered the gate. Ho turned
instantly away.
“Herbert,” she called, leaning over
tho side of tho carriage—“Herbert I”
But he either did not hear her or
would not heed, and daisy was too
proud to repeat the call.
“Let him go,” sho thought to her
self, with provoked dignity. “Ho wiil
come back soon enough.”
Here, however, was where Miss Daisy
miscalculated tho relative strength of
a man’s pride and a man’s love? Her
bert waited for her to send for him -she
waited for him to come, and neither of
these events transpired. At tho end o'
a month he wrote her a brief, cold note
of farewell—she answered it by enclos
ing the engagement ring without a word
of comment.
“But I won’t send the little gold
dollar,” Daisy thought, with an invol
untary pang at her heart. “Ho will
never think of that !”
How many engagements that might
nave ripened into a long life of mutual
happiness are broken, just so 1 Alas !
did wo know all life’s secrets, how soft
our hearts would grow toward one
another 1
Ten years afterward, and Daisy Wal
lace, far away from her tree-bowered
country home, was standing beside a
meager lire of carefully-husbanded coals,
her hands clasped thoughtfully before
her, after tho old, girlish fashion she
bad not yet forgotten.
“I don't like to part with it, mother,”
she said sadly; “it was pupa’s present,
in tho old days !”
“We can remember papa without any
such relics, Daisy,” Mrs. Wallace an
swered; “and we need the money.”
Daisy took down tho little clock, with
its carved garland of ivy leaves, from
which tho dial peeped, with gilded
hands and figures traced in dainty
enamels.
“I suppose it must go,” she sighed,
“but I should like to keep it I”
Nevertheless, Daisy put on her shawl
and bonnet, and wrapped tho tiny clock
in fragments of brown paper, iu- if
f‘ had been a human creature.
The keeper of the second hand curi
osity shop was not at all anxious to buy
the clock. “Ho had plenty of such
trifles on hand already,” he said, “they
did not sell well—but to oblige the lady,
he would let her have a dollar for it.”
“A dollar!”
“And that’s more than it’s really
worth.” the sly Jew answered.
What was Daisy to do? What can a
poor, forlorn woman do, when all the
knaves and cheats in the world conspire
against her? Only submit—and so
Daisy left the clock and went slowly
home, with the dirty one-dollar bill in
her portemonnaie.
The man put the clock in his window,
chuckling to himself over his excellent
bargain as he did so—and it was not
: long before a customer arrived.
Herbert Winfield wanted just such a
I picturesque little piece of carving for
| his library mantel—the very mantle
i he and Daisy had talked about, years
■ ago—and he promptly walked in and
. asked the price.
“Ten dollars, sir—and cheap at that 1”
the dealer answered. “Look at the
carvings 1”
And Herbert paid the ten dollars, and
took the little clock home.
“It. finishes up that side of the room
very nicely,” Herbert thought. “Stay
—I have half a mind to try how it
would look on tho bracket over the
! table.”
As he lifted it down, something
seemed to click far down on the top of
the case, below the carved wreath of
ivory leaves—something so hidden and
obscure that even the shrewd eyes of
the Jew dealer had failed to perceive its
presence.
Herbert Winfield, his curiosity some
what piqued, unscrewed the top, and
there, on the dusty case, lay a slender
! blue ribbon, as if it had sometime been
caught there, with a split gold dollar at
tached to its azure fillet.
' Winfield Btartel, and colored, and his
heart throbbed 1 It was as if Daisy’s own
voice had called to him,out of the depths
of the past I He was never one who
took heed of sighs or omens—and this
was a sign he could not disregard !
Straight to tho curiosity shop he
went.
“Who sold you that clock?” he asked.
“The little French clock with the gar
land of ivory leaves round the top, I
mean !”
The man turned to his books with a
slow deliberation which was indescriba
bly aggravating to Winfield’s feverish
mood.
“I don't know the name,” ho an
swered, “but I know where they live.
At No. Raymer street—a tall young
lady, with brown eyes and very pale
cheeks 1”
How Herbert’s heart throbbed as he
ascended the narrow, uncarpeted stair
way of the tenement house, its ledges
worn into little hollows by the tread of
many feet, and knocked at the door
which had been pointed out to him as
the entrance to Mrs. Wallace’s room.
How the old times came back to him
as ho entered and saw Daisy sitting all
alone at the window, sewing wearily
away at same coarse work.
Sho rose up, with a little shriek.
“Herbert I ’
“Yes, Daisy, it is 11 Are you sorry
to see me?”
“Oh, no, no!” she sobbed. “I am so
glad. I thought everybody had forgot
ten me 1”
“D.d you suppose I could ever forgei
you, Daisy ?”
Ho listened to the story of reverse and
trouble which she had to tell, with a
tender sympathy which soothed her
like the touch of a friendly hand.
“Why did you not send to me,
Daisy?” he asked, almost reproachfully.
“I thought you did not care for me
any more, Herbert I”
“Look in my eyes, Daisy, and tell me
what you think now !”
She glanced shyly up—then her look
fell!
“What do they tell you, Daisy ? Do
they speak the secret of my heart, and
say that I love you still as dearly
as ever? Daisy, you will v'jie
back to my heart.”
He drew out the gold coin, hanging
from its faded ribbon, and extended it
smilingly toward her.
“Oh, Herbert 1 I have missed it and
wept over it so often. Where did you
find it ?”
He told her, adding: “It is a golden
link, dearest, to bind our two hearts to
gether; a little guide which has led mo
back to your side, after all those years
of estrangement 1”
When Mrs. Wallace returned from
her brief absence, she found Daisy once
more the betrothed bride of Herbert
Winfield. Tho ten years of trial and
poverty were but a dream that had
passed away and been forgotten—and
round Daisy’s neck hung, as of old, the
talisman sho had not seen for such a
weary while—the tiny gold dollar on its
ribbon of blue 1
Tho “course of true love” had not
run smoothly, but it was true love, and
ho it camo right at last I
HIE DEATH OF CAPTAIN COO'L
Sonic SlorlCM told About It Jinny Yearn
liter If Took Finer.
Among tho gods of this people was
one Lono, the worship of whom was
directed to a long pole bearing the im
age of a human head at the summit.
This Lono once resided on earth. De
parting from his devotees in a canoe, he
told them he would return in a canoe
with wings. When the Hawaiians saw
the English ship they concluded from the
winged sales that their deity had come.
Though of another color, Capt. Cook
was tvidently a chief, and must surely
be Lono. The strange part of the story
is that Cook lent himself to the delu
sion. Acquainted with the habits of
Pacific Islanders, and observant of their
modes of worship, he knew the forms of
respect to himself were like those paid
to a god. He permitted himself to be
adorned for worship, and submitted to
their sacrificial rites. Nay, more, he
let himself be placed between two idols,
be crowned with garlands like them,
and be bowed to in prayers like those
there addressed to them.
It is true, the old missionary told the
writer, tha* the natives, who had ever
since lamented the murder, charitably
supposed after their conversion that the
Englishman was mad. This idea is
somewhat borne out by the admitted fact
that Cook had not long before received a
sunstroke. As to the death of the Cap
tain, the native story runs that, as he
had given orders for his men to furnish
themselves with firewood for the ship by
taking away the sacred fence around the
stone temple, great indignation was ex
cited at the sacrilege. It was this that
< xcited the insulting clamor. Tradition
goes on to say that one man in particular,
half suspecting that Cook was not the
divinity expected, struck him with a
stick at the back of the neck to test the
question. The Captain cried out with
the pain. Immediately the Hawaiian
was satisfied he was only an imposition,
for no God would feel the blow, and he
struck him down with a mortal wound.
Such was the story told the writer at
Honolulu, the same that the mission
aries heard from an aged actor in the
scene 45 years after the sad event.—
i The Atheneum.
SAVED FROM THE SAVAGES
A WRECK ON THE EAST COAST OF
AiKICA.
Over GOO on a French Transport
Kcmcucml tn Ollicer who I.oM Him Button*.
The British steamer Lord of the Isles,
running from New York to China and
Japan, which arrived in New Y’ork on
August 23, rescued the officers and crew
and half of the passengers of the French
transport Averyon, which had been
wrecked on the Somali coast near C ipe
Guardafui, the eastern extremity of Af
rica. Tho story of the wreck and the
rescue was told by Mr. Evans first officer
of the Lord of the Isles, to a reporter.
The Averyon was returning home to
France from Tonquin. She had on
board 600 people, including her officers
and crew and a marine guard of forty
five men. There were on board many
invalid soldiers from the French Army
of occupation, and several officers and
their wives. On August 20 she went
ashore near Cape Guardafui. There
was a heavy sea running in on the
shore, and the Averyon was swung
around so that the sea made a clean
breach over her. A native village could
be seen, and soon there were 3.00 C
Somalis congregated on the shore. The
chief came off to the ship and offered to
lot the Frenchmen land if they would
pay $6,000. All the money that could
bo collected in the ship only amounted
to 3600, and for this amount the natives
agreed to let a party from tho transport
land and establish a camp in which to
store provisions.
The natives were nearly naked, and
were armed with bows and arrows,
knives, hatchets aod assegais. They
swam off to the ship by the hundred,
but the marine guard, stationed with
loaded rifles in the chains, prevented
their boarding tho transport. The first
lieutenant of the Averyon started with
eleven men in a boat to effect a landing.
His boat was overturned in the surf and
the men thrown into the water. The
natives immediately came to their res
cue, and as they were taking the French
men ashore stole everything out of
their pockets, and captured the lieuten
ant’s watch and chain. Tho lieutenant
got a line to the ship and rigged up a
sling so that men could go to and from
the vessel. Some provisions were landed
and a camp established. One of the
mon in the first lieutenant’s boat was
drowned when the boat was overturned,
so that only ten men were left on shore.
The natives watched carefully to see
that no more landed, and any attempt
to reinforce the party at the camp would
have been the signal for a general mas
sacre. The next day a German steamer,
the Massalia, came along and took off
300 sick soldiers and women from the
wrecked transport. She had no room
for more and sailed away, leaving the
306 others to their fate. The sea was
rising, the three thousand savages were
clamoring for money, and things looked
black for the Frenchmen. There were
no arms aboard except two email cannon
(which were fired as signals of distress
continually), the rifles of the forty-five
marines, and the pistols carried by the
officers. On the evening of August 22,
the Lord of tho Isles, passing up to
ward the Gulf of Aden, heard the min
ute guns and ran in to the wreck.
The sea was so high that nothing
could be done that day, but on the
next the boats from the British steamer
went off to the Averyon and took every
one aboard the Lord of the Isles. The
savages swam around the English boats,
»nd tried to stick their hatchets through
the boats’ bottoms. The party of French
men on shore retreated to the Averyon
when they saw that rescue was at hand.
The first lieutenant was the last to leave
the beach. As he placed himself in the
sling to be hauled on board, the natives
surrounded him and cut all the buttons
off his uniform. When he was half
way to the ship the savages began to
haul on the line by which the sling was
drawn ashore. The sailors on the ship
hauled equally hard the other way, so
that in the confusion the lieutenant was
overturned and was hauled aboard feet
first. He was nearly sufloci'cd when
he reached the deck.
Before leaving the Averyon the cap
tain set her on fire. As the last boat
load left the transport the entire 3,000
natives swarmed on board, and when
the Lord of the Isles sailed away they
could be seen shouting and fighting in
the midslyof the flumes on the deck of
the burning vessel. There was only
sixty pounds of powder on board, the
rest having been thrown overboard. Just
before the Lord of the Isles got out of
sight of the burning vessel the flames
reached the powder. There was an ex
plosion, the musts went by the board,
and several hundred Ravages must have
been killed. The rescued Frenchmen
were landed at Aden.
Stage Struck. —According to a the
atrical manager, girls who recite “Cur
few shall not ring to night,” soon make
their applications for positions as Juliet
and Pauline. Most of the girls who take
part as servants have failed somewhere
as Juliet.
It cost an American a fine of 325 to
rush through the streets of Vienna cry
ing “Fire!” There was a fire, to be
sure, bnt they didn’t want any fuss made
about it
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
THEY GIVE ns A FEW MILD JDKEBt
MAT AKE WORTH READING.
Here are Stories About Fighting—An icy
Joke—An InNiirnnee Report that won tow
(Jootl—A Story of a Florist. Etc.» Etc.
THE DETECTIVE NOT GUILTY.
“What is the charge against the pris
oner ?”
“This gentleman lost his purse and
aays he saw the prisoner find it, your
Honor,” replied the officer.
“Do you deny having found it, pris
oner ?” asked the judge.
“Yes, your Honor.”
“What is your occupation?”
“I am a detective. ”
“The prisoner is discharged.”
“Bnt, your Honor,” interrupted the
officer, “he was seen to pick it up.”
“That makes no difference. He is a
detective, and it is utterly impossible for
him to find anything.”
AN ICY JOKE.
The paragrapher was ruminating in hie
sanctum when the iceman entered.
“Why is it that you are always mak
ing jokes about our business ?” asked
the iceman.
“Oh, because it seems to be under
stood that you charge excessive prices.
But, really, there’s no malice in our
writing.”
“I’m aware of that,” said the iceman,
“and I’m sure I don’t mind it; in fact,
I’m rather fond of jokes, and, by the
way, I’ve got a good joke for you to
day.”
“Indeed,” said the paragrap'ner as he
prepared to sharpen his pencil, “what
is it ?”
“It is,” said the iceman, with a grim
smile, as he laid a paper on the para
grapher’s desk, “it is the bill for your
summer’s ice.”— Somerville Journal.
NOT AS BAD AS FIGHTING,
A veteran of the war was relating his
experience as a soldier.
“Were you ever taken prisoner ?”
“I guess I was. I was a prisoner of
war for eight months, and slept on the
ground in the open air all the time.
Some days I would get something to
eat and some days I wouldn’t. I nearb
starved to death.”
“It must have been a terrible expe
rience.”
“It was, indeed, a frightful expe
rience, but I tell you, gentlemen,” and
here he lowered his voice and spoke
very earnestly, “it wasn’t near as bad as
fighting.”
NEW YORK MILLIONAIRE.
“Are the girls locked up for the night,
w fe?”
“Yes.”
“Coachmen chained ?”
“Yes.”
“Has the patent butcher-catcher in
the front yard been oiled so that it
works well ?”
“Yes.”
“Well, we might as well chloroform
the gardener and go to sleep.”— Chicago
Tribune
THE SEASONS.
When the summer is departing and the year is
growing old,
When the forests are assuming richest hues of
red ami gold,
When a softer, deeper azure tints the cloud
less noonday skies
And the sunset gives us glimpses of the walls
of Paradise ;
When the song-birds have departed to a region
less austere
And their melody, mellifluous, greets no more
the longing ear ;
When the wild-goose flying southward of ap
proaching winter warns,
And the earth’s ripe fruitage, garnered, safely
lies in sheltered barns ;
When the nights are growing chilly and more
welcome is the snn—
It is then tho thrifty coalman adds a dollar to
the ton.
THE WEATHEn.
A Western poet has produced an ode
to the weather of ’B4, to be sung by a
grandfather in 1960:
Ah. yes, my child, ’twas ’81;
The year I well remember;
1 froze my nose in full .Tidy,
And burnt it in September.
FATE OF THE INVINCIBLE.
In the midst of the engagement,when
tlie air was lurid with screaming shot
and bursting shell, the Admiral on board
the American flagship Invincible heard
a crash on the port bow, and felt at the
same time a light shock. He called the
Quartermaster:
“Was that the British ram that struck
us ?”
The Quartermaster saluted..
“No, sir,” said he, “it was a Jersey
clam-boat.”
“All hands abandon ship,” ordered
the Admiral, with the calmness of de
spair, for he knew that all was lost. In
twenty minutes the Invincible lay safely
at the bottom of the sea, where the
clam-boat troubleth no more.
TOO GOOD A REPORT.
Insurance Agent—“lt’s all right. Tho
doctor says you are the best risk he ever
examined.”
Citizen —“The best risk ?”
“Yes; soundest constitution and per
fect health, you know.”
“Did he say that ?”
“Yes, indeed. No trouble about your
case. He said there was nothing to
prevent you from living a hundred
years.”
“You don’t mean it?”
“Honest truth. Come right around
to my office and I’ll fix up the papers
at once.”
“No, thank you; it won’t pay. I’m
too healthy.”— Kve. Call.
Sensible.—She was a remarkably
sensible young lady who made the re
quest of her friends that after her de
cease she should not be buried by the
side of a brook, where babbling lovers
would wake her from her dreams; nor
in any grand cemetery, where sightseers,
conning over epitaphs, might disturb
her; but be laid away to her last sleep
under the counter of some merchant
who did not advertise in the newspapers.
There, she said, was to be found a depth
of quiet slumber, on which neither the
sound of the buoyant foot of youth
nor the weary shuffle of bld age would
intrude.
— ■
A Norristown man has a cook so
' pretty cml fascinating that the first day
he employed her she “mashed” his
' tatoes. The next day she “mashed” his
' ion.