Newspaper Page Text
NOTES AND COMMENTS.
It is a curious fact that the largest
handler of oysters in the world is lo
cated at Chicago. He employs over
$5,000,000 of capital and buys 6,000
bushels daily in New York and as many
more in Baltimore. The English mar
ket takes 10,000 bushels a week.
Petbb Doskn of St. Louis, wrapped a
So bill around a roll of paper and went
around showing off what was taken for a
thousand or so. Next thing he knew he
had- a cracked skull, and two policeman
were taking him to the hospital. He
says he will never try to put on airs
again.
A novel mode of aging whisky and
other liquors is to place a Maxim or
Edison light inside of the barrel. Ex
- posure of the liquid to the electric light
for a hundred hours, it is said, changes
- the flavor and converts a new liquor
into one that resembles a ten-year-old
brand.
As one travels upon the Continent,
says an American who was for some
years abroad, he will learn that from
every port the best articles are dis
patched to England and the worst to
the United States, but zimericans are
invariably expected to pay the best
prices.
■ Massachusetts has a rival in the
number cf marriageable women. Para
guay, in South America, has only
30,000 men to marry 270,000 women, a
veritable woman’s kingdom. The men
sit at home drinking and smoking, and
the women are the farmers, producers
and workers.
Tn® New York Press Clnb elected
Amos J. Cummings of the Sun Presl
dent. Mr. Cummings is a working
journalist and goes to the front as
naturally as if he belonged there with
out any election at all. He is a typo who
sets type for fun occasionally, and not
because he has to.
An indignant New Yorker reveals the
fact that in that city goats repose on the
front steps of brown-stone mansions and
eoasionally enter the parlors and browse
on the wall-paper and pictures. As a
consequence, tierce war is raging be
tween the brown-stone aristocracy and
the predatory animals.
Several papers in Oregon take wheat
in payment for subscriptions for adver
tisements, and their prospectus reads
•lout like this: “The Star of Empire
,will be sent to any address for five bush
els of No. 1 winter wheat We have no
JJse for any other kind. Beading notices
inserted at the rate of two bushels per
inch. Come on, noble farmers; our bin
is nearly empty.”
Edmund Yates say'? tn the London
World: “An officer of '4e Fourth Hus
sars tells me they have got over forty
gentlemen serving as troopers, and I
hear that the Buffs, or what used to be
the Buffs, has also got a large number
of gentlemen privates. This looks as if
the service was improving, and seems to
throw new light upon the question of
what is to become of our eons. ’’
, A Member of the British Parliament
Slk r.ed an agency which does such
t^.: 6 s to furnish him with clippings of
<1 the derogatory things which the
• u- ’’’ers should say about him for a
’’he return was enormous, and
cost v.. 'ember thirty pounds. For
the following month he bespoke clip
pings of all that was printed in his favor,
and bill amounted only to seven
shillings and sixpence.
BUYING BY THE SM ALL MEASURE.
The Profit on n Barre! <>i l*o?ntoe* When
They are Prddicd Out.
Good potatoes can 1 e bought at the
market for SI.BO a barrel. They are
not the highly cultured vegetable—the
Early It >-.e or such varieties—but they
are big wholesome potatoes that contain
hi'! i - much nutriment as the more ex
pt ire kinds. The price charged at
the comer grocery for a small measure
of oMi.'iary potatoes is 10 cents. As not
few of the measures are arranged with
false bottoms, there are sometimes live
of them to the peck. But allowing that
the men are honest enough to give fair
measure, the cost cf a j>eck is forty
cents, or $1.6) a bushel, and $6.40 a
barrel. This method of selling potatoes
enables the grocer to obtain a profit of
225 per cent, on a sinele barrel of pota
toes. The profit when the question of
credit arises, is considerably larger.*
Then the customer is required to pay 15
cents a small measure; 60 cents a peck;
$2.4 . a bushel and $9.60 a barrel, or a
modest gain to the dealer of 500 per
cent. •
Comer grocerymen say that they
would rather sell a barrel of potatoes
than a ton of coal, ndtwithstanding the
fact that they make 150 per cent, on
the latter commodity. When false
measurements are reckoned, the enor
mous profit on a single barrel of pota
toes will become nearly double. The
grocer in these stores does not deliver
articles that are purchased. The cost of
help is reduced to the minimum, and
almost the only things that eat into a
corner-groceryman’s profits are the ex
penses of supporting his own family.
Although it is a criminal offense to de
fraud persons by means of weights and
measures of false quantities, the in
spectors usually either wink at the vio
v lations of the law or are satisfied with a
kittle present now and then.— N. Y. Ad-
Fveriiser.
Industrial Schools.
Technical and industrial schools are
1 increasing in number throughout the
country. There are now fifty-two schools
in New York city in which girls are
taught sewing, cooking and housework,
and the boys are taught the principles
of agriculture and plain trades. A gener- |
al bureau has been organized to direct
. and assist this department of education.
• The association is not charitable; it
teaches boys and girls and women to
help themselves, and some of its classes
are intended for the mistresses of house
holds. It hopes to introduce industrial
education into the reformatory inatitu-
' . tions of New York State. j
@lje (!? njette.
VOL. XII. SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING. JANUARY 20, 1885. NO. 1.
PERENNIAL HOURS.
We may not force the law of fate,
Or hasten one perennial hour
That manifeeta or soon or late
Thy ceaseless and omniscient power.
If Thou hast led us by away
We never sought, and which, when
found,
Encircled our meridian day
With blackness as of parched ground.
We look to Thee for wisdom still
Through all the subtle ways of time;
We Inng to know Thy perfect will,
And consecrate our wills to Thine.
Thy days of darkness turn to light,
And out ofall the stormiest hours
Os love and passion, in their flight,
Thou weavest fadeless wreaths of flowers.
Nay, from the grave of love there springs
New music of a siren’s song,
And unseen harps of countless strings
Repeat the echoes quiet and long.
William Henry Thorne.
TWOOTISTMASEVES.
The first one was marked by the wed
ding of Hosmer Allen and pretty, win
some Edna Grey. It was a most brill
iant wedding, and attended by all Mrs.
John Mnrchmont’s circle of friends. The
bride was daintily lovely in her rich,
white lace dress, her pearls and orange
blossoms, that suited well her tiny figure
and pure blonde face. The bridegroom,
a pale, handsome man, many years older
than the bride, was grave, glancing often
anxiously toward the stately hostess, as
if he feared some interruption of the
festivities.
But there was none. The splendid
supper was discussed, the light feet
moved to the music of a band, the con
gratulations were heartily uttered, and
no one suspected that the hostess had a
care, when Hosmer Allen and his fair
bride finally departed to take a midnight
train for New York, to connect with the
next day’s European steamer.
Every guest had departed except two,
when Mrs. Marchmont, pale and weary,
turned from the last farewells to re-enter
the still brilliant ly lighted parlors. The
two who waited still were her lawyer
and her dead husband’s cousin, Bonald
Marchmont. The latter gentleman she
greeted at once with stately courtesy.
“I thank you for granting my re
quest,” she said. “You have given me
one pain less in leaving the only home I
have known for thirty years. Mr. Allen,
who knows all, lias promised to keep all
painful revelations from Edna until she
returns home. ”
The old lawyer, looking keenly at the
quietly dignified woman who thus spoke,
said respictfully:
“Mrs. Marchmont, my sister wishes
me to invite you to be our guest for as
long as you may find our quiet home a
pleasant one. The same feeble health
that prevented her presence here to
night, prevents her from giving the in
vitation in person; but I hope you will
accept her hospitality.”
“You are very kind but Igo to Barton
tomorrow. I have secured the position
of assistant teacher there, in the Barton
Seminary, and my duties commence af
ter New Year’s Day. But I have prom
ised to go to the seminary to-morrOw.”
Then Mr. Marchmont spoke in a grave
voice:
“I hope you. will take with you, Mrs.
Marchmont, not only all of your person
al possessions, but any article in the
house to which you attach an especial
value, either from association or other
cause. ”
“You are very kind I” she answered,
and after a few words more the gentle
men took their leave. Already the ser
vants had closed in the haudsoma house
and retired, and alone Mrs. Marchmont
went from room to room, taking leave ol
her old life.
Thirty years ago her husband had in
herited the house from his deceased
uncle, and had brought his bride there.
The large income inherited at the same
time he had left at his death to his
widow For thirty years all this fair
home, thia large income had been under
Mrs. Mirchmont’s absolute control.
Having a generous heart, she had saved
nothing, never deeming the income
could fail her.
She had adopted Elna Grey, the
child of an old schoolmate; had given
her every advantage her own child could
have claimed with warmest love. She
had been very happy when Edna gave
her whole heart to a man as noble and
ttue as she kuew Hosmer Allen to be,
and had provider! bountifully for a grand
wedding. The trosseau was all a gen
erous, wealthy aunt could provide, and
it was understood that E Ina would in
herit the Marchmont estate.
But just three days before the Christ
mas Eve set for the wedding day Bonald
Marchmont came to L with a newly-
found will of the uncle who had en
riched his cousin. Bonald Marchmont
had deeply offended this relative t efore
bis death, and exp?cted nothing better
than to be disinherited. But after be
ing securely h <ll >: for thirty years a !
la'rr will tin the one >li'inheriting
aim bad been found, giving him all
the estate.
He came to L , told his tidings to
Mr.- Allison, Mrs. Marchmont’s lawyer,
and proved his identity and claim to the
property. And Mrs. Marchmont, hid
ing her own pain, only pleaded for a
little delay until Edna should be far
away from the knowledge of the cruel
news. She told Hosmer Allen all, but
his love was not founded upon the
rumored inheritance of his promised
bride, and he willingly consented to
keep the nows from her.
So, with her usual serene face, Mrs.
Marchmont had concluded her prepar
ations for the wedding, while she, at the
same time, applied herself to the novel
task of seeking employment. It seemed
to her a special Providence that the
vacancy at Barton Seminary was adver
tised at that time, and she was pro
foundly grateful when she was accepted
to fill the position of assistant teacher.
In the early morning, with only her
Nothing and personal effects packed in
two large trunks, Mrs. Marchmont left
her old home and turned her face to
Barton, a village some twenty miles
from L .
A year later, about a week before
Christmas a close hack drove rapidly
from the railway station at L , and
stopped before the house, which Mrs.
Marchmont had left on the dreary De
cember day, when she entered upon her
new life. A little figure, clad in deepest
mourning, sprang from the hack, and
mounting the steps, rang the bell.
Again and again the resounding peal
echoed through the great house, but
there was no answer. At last a window
in the next house was raised, and a
voice said:
“There is no one in that house. It is
for sale.”
“Where is Mrs. Marchmont?” asked
the lady in mourning.
“I cannot tell yon. But Mr. Allison
is agent for the sale of the house.”
In a moment the little black-robed
figures was back at the hack door.
“Do you know whore Mr. Allison
lives on Elm street?” she asked the
driver.
“Yes’m. ”
“Drive there as quickly as you can.
It is not yet nine o’clock; he may see
me.”
“Yes’m.”
It required an extraordinary event to
upset Mr. Allison's perfect repose of
manner, but it certainly was upset about
fifteen minutes later, when a little fig
ure in close widow’s weeds entered the
library where he was reading, crying :
“Oh, Mr. Allison, is my Aunt Lizzie
dead ?”
Down went the lawyer’s ponderous
book upon the floor as he started erect.
“Edna Allen !” he cried, “where did
you come from, and in that dress ?”
“Did you not get my letters ? Did
you not know that my dear husband
was dead ? And now—the house is all
shut up—Aunt Lizzie I”
“There, there, don’t cry so! Your
aunt is alive and well. Let mo bring
your trunks in and I will tell you all
about it.”
So Baying, the old lawyer rang the
bell, sent a servant out for the traveler's
baggage, summoned bis sister and then
told Edna all about it. The long-guard
ed secret could be kept no longer.
* » * * ♦ ♦ »
In the Barton Seminary, an elderly,
white-haired lady, with a sweet, sad
face, the morning before Christmas day,
opened a letter and read it over with an
anxious face. It was from her lawyer,
Mr. Allison, and it begged of her, for
reasons of the deepest importance, to
meet him in her old home on the even
ing of the day then passing. But the
sentence that caused the deepest pain
to the loving heart was the postscript of
the letter:
“I have just heard of Hosmer Alien’s
death in Pans, last mouth.”
"Hosmer Allen dead ! Where is my
poor Edna? A widow at nineteen I Poor
little one I”
More to hear the tidings of her adopted
child than from any other reason, Mrs.
Marchmont resolved to obey the lawyer's
summons. The train from Barton that
reached L at six o’clock, carried her
upon her journey, and it was but a short
drive to her old home.
She was surprised, having heard it
was for sale, to find it brilliantly lighted
in every room, and to see her old foot
man opening the door. She hurried to
the parlor, warmed, lighted, but empty.
There she saw a large, legal envelope
upon the centre table. It was directed
to herself, and she opened it hastily.
A large folded paper fell out and a tiny
note. She opened the first and found a
deed conveying to her the house in
which she stood, and thirty thousand
dollars deposited in her name in the
L Bank.
Utterly bewildered, she sank into a
chair, and for the first time spied the
tiny note. It was directed in a familiar
hand, and she opened it, already guess
ing its contents. And inside, in Edna’s
hand, she read:
“Dear, dear Aunt Lizzie: Will you
accept the accompanying Christmas gift
from
“Your loving child, Edna?”
“Edna ! Is Edna here ?” she cried.
And in answer, the little figure of her
adopted daughter came quickly down
the wide staircase.
“I thought you would never call me
she cried, as she sprang into the loving
arms opened to her.
“Edna I my little one !”
“I may come home, may I not?” the
young widow asked, lifting her sweet
face, that looked so sad in its youth and
suggestive dress.
For answer there were only mute but ,
tender caresses.
“But I do not understand,” Mrs.
Marchmont said at last, “my poor head
is quite bewildered 1”
“I will explain it all, then, Aimtie.
When Hosmer was in Paris he was taken
suddenly ill, and although we had the
best advice, he died in less than a week
after he was first taken. Before we left
here he signed a will left with Mr. Alli
son, giving me his entire property in case
of his death. And it is a weary burden
to think of, Aunt Lizzie. I want him so
much, so much 1”
She sobbed bitterly as she spoke, and
it was several minutes before she con
tinued:
“Mrs. Carleton was in Paris, and c lin
ing home by the next steamer, and I
was only too glad when she begged of
me to come home with her. I wrote to
you and to Mr Allison, but th® letters
were on the same steamer, I think, for
they came here after I did. When I
con’d not find you, I went to Mr. Alli
son, afld he was so kind, so good to me,
Aunt Lizzie. His sister made me a wel
come guest, and when I was rested he
helped me to prepare this Christmas
surprise for you. 1 have lieen here all
day, making the house look just as it
used to look, and wc will try and be
happy together here, will wo not, as if
the past year’s sorrows were only heart
sorrows, not money troubles ?”
“Dear child,” was the gentle answer,
“I accept your generous gift in the same
loving sp : rit that makes you offer it, and
if my love can comfort yon in your
great sorrow, you must know it is all in
my heart for you, as it has been since
you were a child.”
“And now come to dinner. Mr. and
Miss Allison are your guests, and are
waiting for us in the dining-room. I saw
lots of your prettiest dresses hanging in
the wardrobe in your old room, so you
can moke your toilette while I go and
entertain the company till you come.
I found Margaret, Aunt Lizzie, and she
was delighted to come back, so you may
be sure all your favorite dishes will be
on the table.”
It was a quietly happy party which met
at that dinner to celebrate the second of
the Two Christmas Eves.
A MONKEY FOND OF BIDING.
A Run to lloundM which Cured Him or
Hterdiliy EquvNtrlunlMin.
Not long ago a gentleman who rather
prided himself on a very tine stud of
hunters, found that the horses did not
appear properly refreshed by their
nightly rest. One of the grooms, on
being desired to keep a strict watch,
discovered that a tame monkey belong
ing to the house, was accustomed to ride
on the horses’ backs almost all night,
preventing them from taking sufficient
rest.
His master, on discovering his pen
chant for riding, and being averse to
killing the monkey on account of his
horsemanship, succeeded in curing him
effectually of his love for horses. The
next time that the hounds met, be had
the monkey put into a full hunting suit,
and secured by a strap to the saddle of
his most spirited hunter, and took him
away to the meet. When the fox was
found the horse pricked up his ears at
the well-known sound, and started off at
once. The chase happened to be a par
ticularly long and severe one, the mon
key, of course, from his light weight,
being far ahead of the legitimate hunts
men.
A countryman who was coming from
the direction the fox had taken, was in
terrogated by some of the sportsmen who
had been thrown out as to the position
of the hiin(, and told them that the fox
was looking tired*, but that none of the
huntsmen were near except a little gen
tleman in a yellow jacket, who took leaps
beautifully. Sure enough, Master
Jocko was in at the death, but did not
by any means appreciate the honor.
After the fox had been killed, there was
a long ride home again, by the end of
which time the monkey seemed thor
oughly wearied out. After this experi
ence he was never known to mount i
horse again.
—— - —■
Greater than Waterloo.
General Freston, of Kentucky, speak
ing of the late war, said: “There were
three battles of the war, all of them
greater than the battle of Waterloo,
Shiloh, Stone River, and Chickamauga.
Each of them was most stubbornly con
tested, and the losses on each side con
siderably greater than at Waterloo.
Shiloh I regard in many respects the
greatest battle of the world. It was
practically the crowning glory of Ameri.
can valor. Here were two great armies
of|raw troop - who met in the shock of bat
tle and never flinched. It was the most
stubbornly contested battle of modern
times. Once when Sir Garnet Wolseley,
the present commander of the English
army, asked me at a dinner party at
Montreal if the South could not have
field out longer, I replied : ‘As a mere
matter of physical endurance, yes; but
do you know, sir, that in the four years
of war through which we passed, the
South alone, with its few millions of ■
people, lost more men in battle than '
England did in all its wars from William ‘
the Conqueror to Qu. eu Victoria.’ I
spoke with some feehn ; and it ended in
a discussion as to the reason why the !
South did not continue to fight,”
ARE CANNED GOODS POISONOUS?
The Doctors by no Moans Satlsfled That
buch 1m the Case*
A paper read before the Medico-Legal
Society, of New York city, some weeks
ago by Dr, Johnson of Brooklyn, upon
“Poisoning by Canned Goods” attracted
the attention of Dr. Thomas Stevenson,
of London, Government Analyst, and he
wrote a short monograph on the same
subject and sent it to the society. It
was read at a meeting of the society by
Dr. J, A. Irwin. Dr. Stevenson says
that no positive case of acute metal
poisoning by canned goods is known in
London. It is reasonably certain that
where persons have been poisoned by
eating canned meats, the meat itself
was tainted before canned.
In February last, the doctor continues,
there were in Glasgow several cases of
poisoning from tinned provisions. The
symptoms were those of gastro-enetritis.
An analysis showed salts of tin present,
but it could not be proved that the ill
ness was due to the tin. That canned
goods usually contained traces of tin has
been shown by several British chemists,
and it is a well established fact. That
such provisions do not usually produce
any serious results is a matter of com
mon experience.
“I am not prepared to say,” remarked
Dr. Stevenson in closing, “that tin com
pounds are inert, but evidence is want
ing to show that the daily injections of
fractions of a grain of tin compounds is
manifestly injurious to health.”
Dr. Irwin followed with a short paper
of his own on the same subject. It ap
peared to him, he said, that before the
question of the danger to health from
using canned goods could be determined
it was necessary to settle two questions:
First—Are the canned goods now in
the market contaminated at all by tin ?
If so, is the contamination of a nature
likely to endanger the public health ?
The first question must be settled by
the analytical chemist. Dr. Stevenson’s
paper showed that, while foods in tin
usually take up salts of tin, they are
not usually injurious. An eminent au
thority has said the public had not the
faintest cause for alarm on the subject.
Certain suits of tin are never used ex
cept for artistic and commercial pur
poses. Chloride of zinc is a highly poi
sonous substance, and never given inter
nally. Salts of fir a-e unquestionably
corrosive irritant poisons. Yet not a
case of fatal poisoning from meats in
which they had been detected had been
recorded.
Dr. Irwin agreed with Dr. Stevenson
that meat of an inferior quality or taint
ed is often canned. As to the length of
time which provisions can be kept in
tin there was no exact knowledge. He
had eaten canned fruits in Patagonia
which had crossed the equator twice and
which had certainly been in cans for a
year. Personally ho had never suffered
from such food. He believed, however,
that food long canned becomes detri
mental, and could see no objection to a
law compelling manufacturers to stamp
cans with the date of sealing.
The Responsibility He Incurred.
“I—l wanted to ask your opinion
bout a little matter, and also secure
» our advice,” he said, as he cornered a
member of the City Council on one of
the City Hall porches yesterday.
“Well, sir, what can I do for you?”
“Is it your opinion that we shall have
m open winter?”
“Why, sir, I—l can’t really say. Ido
not pretend to be a weather prophet.”
“Sorry—very sorry, continued the
other; “I have got to go to Chicago on
;oot. If you could guarantee me fine
weather I wouldn’t need to ask you to
lend me more than half a dollar. As
you can’t do that, and as I am liable to
be snowed in somewhere for a week, I
shall be compelled to request the loan
o' at least eighty cents. Do you advise
me to lay in a stock of crackers and
cheese at this point, or would you buy
as you went along and from day to day ?’’
The aiderman sought to crawl out of
any responsibility in the matter, but the
man hung to him until he got thirty
cents as a compromise. The man who
won't predict an open winter ought to
be bled.— Detroit Free Press.
—
He was Nearly Drowned.
During his boyhood days Governor
Bichard J. Oglesby, of Illinois, came
very near being drowned. In company
with friends some days ago he told his
experience in the water. He said:
“When I was a boy I was bathing with
some friends and got beyond my depth
and was unable to swim. I had heard
that when a person in the water goes
down a third time he drowns. I counted
distinctly the number of times I sank,
and when I started down a third time I
said to myself, ‘Here goes the third and
last time; now lam dead.’ Every event
of mv life passed before me with vivid
distinctness, but without creating any
peculiar feeling. 1 saw them go by as if
they were a swift moving panorama. I
was dead. I kuew that I was dead, and
a sweeter death one cannot die. My
consciousness suddenly departed, and I
died without a struggle or pain.” He
was rescued immediately after touching
bottom the third lime, and after work
ing with him for nearly an hour life was
restored.
HORRORS OF WITCHCRAFT.
An Interesting Paper Before the New*
England Society of Brooklyn.
Witchcraft was made unusually in*
foresting to a large audience of ladies
and gentlemen by the Rev. John W.
Chadwick, in Brooklyn, where the New-
England Society, of that city, held its
fifth public meeting.
Among the many causes which led to
the Salem witchcraft, in 1692, the Bev.
Mr. Chadwick mentioned the supersti
tion of the times, the doctrines taught,
the lonely situation of the place, with
its gloomy, unexplored surroundings,
the animosities which arose from con
flicting claims, parish bickerings, op
pressive taxes, and innumerable quar.
rels which died out and were brought
to life again by witchcraft. He traced
its beginning from a separation from
the mother church, which was per
mitted for convenience sake, and the
dissensions that arose until the Bev.
Samuel Paris brought to a critical point
the bitterness which had been growing
during the terms of his three predeces
sors in the new church. The two
Indian servants of this minister were the
teachers of the “ten afflicted children,”
of whom only three were children, who
met at his house at first to have a good
time in testing necromantic arts, which
in time worked on their imaginations
until they would utter incoherent sounds
and fall upon the ground writhing in
agonies. Then the doctors gravely pro
nounced them bewitched, as they now
attribute to malaria diseases they cannot
understand. These children were ex
hibited free of charge; they walked
through the village or burst out in
church with some remarkable cry. And
finally, when asked who were influencing
them, they pointed out the supposed
witches, like Sarah Good and Sarah
Osborne. The accused grew in number.
Paris was zealous in his denunciation of
witchcraft, his enemies became the en
emies of the “afflicted children,” and
family quarrels all produced their vic
tims. The Boston Judges arrived and
were convinced, the belief spread and
was accepted everywhere, and execu
tions followed each other until the death
of a woman like Rebecca Nurse and of a
man with the excellent character of
Giles Corey, and the courage of a few
men from Andover checked the horrible
wave until May, 1693, when 150 persons
accused of witchcraft were discharged.
Treating the subject generally, the
speaker said that the belief in witch
craft was one of the most universal traits
of the human mind. It was prevalent
among the Greeks, Romans, Jews and
early Christians. In Germany during
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries
100,000 persons were executed in 100
years for witchcraft. At Toulouse, in
France, 400 died at a single execution,
in Geneva 500 in three months, and one
Judge boasted that he had condemned
800 persons for the same cause. Luther
condemned witches, and so did John
Wesley among the Methodists in the
eighteenth century. Every witch ex
ecuted at Salem was executed undei
a law of J ames I. Supported by populai
opinion, by the traditions of the past,
and openly by men like Cotton Mather,
and men with the truthfulness of dispo
sition, the vigor of intellect, and the
penetrating judgment of Mathew Hale,
it was a wonder, the speaker thought,
that Salem witchcraft did so little harm.
“Viewed in this light,” he concluded,
“there is nothing in all this to make us
think less reverently of the Puritan
fathers.’ t
- *» —— .
Who Will Pay the Wager?
THE WINNER OF IT SEEMS TO BE ABOUT
S6OO OUT OF POCKET.
Mr. Reynolds, Republican, and J.
Frank Wright, Democrat, both well
known citizens of Mount Vernon, West
chester County, N. Y., some time before
election made a wager of S6OO each that
their respective Presidential candidates
would carry the State of New York. The
money was put in the hands of Joseph
Roe, who, not caring to carry $1,20C
about in his trowsers pocket, deposited it
in Masterton’s banking house at Mount
Vernon, which is now badly insolvent.
Mr. Roe took the certified check of
the bank as security for his deposit.
After election day Mr. Wright, the
Democrat, regarded himself as S6OO in
pocket. But the bank burst, and Mr.
Wright now regards himself as §6OO
out of pocket. Mr. Reynolds feels
about the same way. The certified
check for $1,200 which Mr. Roe holds
js said not to be worth the paper it is
written on.
A funny feature of the affair is that
two votes were lost. Mr. Reynolds did
not put in an appearance at the polls,
and Mr. Wright was challenged and did
not vote. A Mount Vernon lawyer says
that Mr. Roe is plainly responsible foi
the loss of $1,200, and it could be recov
ered from him by law.
Morin, the Detective. —A dispatch
from Paris says that M. Morin, who was
shot by Mme. Clovis Hugues, suffers the
most acute agony. Hie brain is on fire,
afld he utters piercing shrieks all night
long. He drinks milk, cognac and rum
with great avidity. His left hand is tied
to his side to prevent him from tearing
the bandages from his head. His right
arm is paralyzed.
A. BATCH OF STRAY WAIFS
•
WHAT WE FIND TO SMILE OVER IN
TflE HUMOROUS COLUMNS.
The Chinese Muet <.’o—A Want of .Settlers—
A Patron cf I!ittbnndry—Simply a Fabio
—A Paiuf nl Sin prise* Elc.
A TATRON CF IIISDANERY.
“President Cleveland will be very
popular with the patrons of husbandry,”
Said Gilhooly to Mrs. Col. Yerger, on
the occasion of a social gathering at the
palatial residence of the latter.
“You refer to the granger element, I
suppose,” said Mrs. Yerger, who is well
up in politics.
“Oh, no; by patrons of husbandry I
refer to the mother with marriageable
daughters.”
N. B. Mrs. Yerger has several mar
riageable daughters, and the whole
family is going to Washington nexi
spring to be present at the inaugural
ba’l.—Texas Siftings.
HE FOLLOWED INSTRUCTIONS.
“When you go to bed you should al
ways hang up your watch, It is bettei
for it,” remarked Wilson to his son re
cently.
The next night he asked the young
man what time it was.
“I don’t know,” replied the youth.
“Where is your watch?”
“I hung it up, sir.”— Graphic.
K CORDIAL INVITATION.
A slim youth, accompanied by a pug
dog and chain attachment, met a young
lady on Fifth avenue whom he knew.
He walked by her side until her resi
dence was gained, when she invited him
in.
“Aw —thawnks; awfully much pleased,
I’m suah,” he said; “but—er—the dog,
y’know ”
“Ob, the dog won’t make the slight
est difference. Dear little fellow ! Mam
ma will be glad to see you both. ”
PAINFUL SURPRISE.
“My dear,” he said as he entered the
house, “who is that gentleman across
the street ?”
“I am not sure, but I think he is an
old beau of mine.”
“How long has he been waving his
handkerchief ?”
“Oh, more than half an hour.”
“Is he trying to flirt with you ?”
“That’s just what annoys me. He
may mean it for me, or for the lady in
the bay window above. If it’s for me I
ought to know it, and if it’s for her I’ll
never speak to the shame-faced thing
again as long as I live ! Oh i George !
you don’t know how vexatious and un
certain it is to have roomers above you !
I wish we had a little cottage of our
own.”— Detroit Free Press.
BY A COACHMAN.
To speak the words her tongue did falter,
But nil her tears and prayer < were idle;
Her father forced her to the altar,
For he’d determined on the bridle.
She did not wish to stirrup strife,
And so her feelings she did smother;
But saddle bo her married life—
She wedded one but loved another.
—JlusUm Courier.
OUT OF OIL.
“And so you are comfortably fixed
now,” pleasantly remarked one lady to
another.
“Oh, yes; we own our home, and are
getting along very well,” replied the
other.
“How did your husband make hfr
money ?” was asked.
“Out of oil,” the reply.
“Oh, boring for it ?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Buying oil land?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Speculating ?”
“Oh, no.”
“How did he make his money out of
it, then?”
“By keeping out of it.”— Rochester
Post.
NOT WHAT HE WANTED.
“I don’t ’zao’ly underetan’ this ’erl
Spanish treaty. What does it do?”
“Why, it gives us cheaper sugar.”
“What do wo want o’ cheaper sugar J
The s’ioons alius throws in the sugar.’’
-Chicago News.
SETTLERS WANTED.
A man who had a bad habit of letting
his accounts with the butcher, grocer,
etc.. run on forever, was seen the othei
day by one of his creditors, packing t
box home.
“Hello,” he said, “what are you going
to do with that ?”
‘ Going to put my goods and chattels
In it.”
“What for?”
“I’m going to move out West?”
“What’s that for?”
“Oh, I’m going out there to Bettie:
there’s nothin’ here for me.”
“Going West to settle, are you?”
“That’s the racket.”
“Well, you’d better settle here first.
There’s nothing out there for us, and
we want settlers in this neighborhood,
about as much as any place you evei
saw.”— Merchant Traveler
MUST GO.
He (solemnly) —“You had a very nar
row escape last night, Miss Julia.”
She— “Mercy, what do you mean ?”
He—“ Well you see, I had a dream
about you. I thought I was just about
to kiss you when the Chinaman rapped
at the door and I woke up.”
She (after a pause)—“The Chinese
must go. ”
[Only the intimate friends of the fam
’ies invited.]—Van Francisco Post.
Prentice told a friend that his famous
poem“lne Closing Year” was written un
the following circumstances:—J dashed
it off one New Year’s night jast as the
dawn began to pi ep into the windows
of my dirty editorial room. My paper
had just gone to press when a crowd of
newsboys came into the < ffica and asked
me to write them something for a car
rier’s address. It was the morning of
New Year’s, and they had gotten noth
.ng as yet, and were desperate. I told , lt!l
them I would do the best, I could foi' iK '
hem, and scratched off that poem.