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AN ALBANY MYSTERY. The Subterrnaean Pasmce In the Old Schuyler Hanston. Recently the old Schuyler mansion and grounds in Albany, N. Y., were sold for a nominal consideration. The grounds were ent no into building lots and the historic old pile is to be convert ed into a beer garden. The house was built by Mrs. Philip Schuyler while her husband, General Schuyler, was in Eng land in 1760-’6l. The mansion is at the head of Schuyler street, built of brick, with a closed octagonal porch in front. Until 1800 General and Mrs. Schuyler dispensed hospitality, and during that time many notable personages were en tertained royally within its walls. When General Burgoyne > urrendered at Sara toga in 1777 he and other prisoners were sent to Albany and while there were eared for by Mrs. Schuyler. Burgoyne was given the best room in the house and was well received. When, in 1781, a plan was laid to capture Gen. Schuyler and take him to Canada the house proved a good fortress. Tories, Indians and Canadians surrounded the house for several days before they effected on en trance. The stair rail still bears the dent of a tomahawk thrown by a savage at a daughter of the General who was fleeing with an infant sister. In this house La fayette, Rochambeau and Baron Steu ben were guests. It was the headquar ters of many officers of the Continental army of the Revolution. There has al ways been a belief that there was a se cret underground passage from the man sion to the Hudson River, half a mile distant. This belief has been discredit ed, but late developments establish its certainty beyond a doubt. Recently while men were at work excavating they were surprised at striking a stone slab a foot beneath the surface. Raising this they found recesses beneath, from which long-confined gases issued. It was found to be seventeen feet deep, filled to a depth of five feet with water. The open ing was eased in iron, two inches thick. In the cellar of the old mansion were found slabs of stone lying over hollow places which corresponded in alignment with the ones discovered on the grounds . in front of the house. Further develop ments are expected when the ice-cold water is taken from the passage; but this will not be until spring, for work has been suspended for the winter. “Can’t Have Her.” “Never marry but for love,” said William Penn, “but see that thou lovest what is lovely.” Jonathan Edwards, the great new England theologian, so heartlessly indorsed Penn’s sentiment that he refused the hand of his own daughter to a young man who wished to marry her, because she was not “lovely.” The youth called upon Ed w.uds, at Stockbridge, whcrft'he was preaching to Indians and writing his famous treatise on the "W. 11 and asked to bo allowed to marry his daughter. “You can’t have her,” said the preacher. “But I love her.” “No matter; yon can't have her.” “But she loves me, too.” “I say you can’t have her.” “But 1 am well off and can support her.” “You can't have her, I tell you.” “Why not, Mr. Edwards ? What have you against me ?” “Nothing.” “Weil, then, why can’t I have Emily ?” “Because I think you are a pretty decent sort of a young man; too good for her.” “What?. Mr. Edwards, what in the world do you mean ?” “She's got a wncked temper, and you wouldn’t be happy with her.” “But I thought she was a Christian?” “So she is, young man, so she is. But LeforS you have lived as long as. I have, you’ll find out that there are some people in this world that the grace irf God may get along with, but you can’t.” Flghtteg with Baslii-Bazouks. An English correspondent writing from Egypt, says: “For the little garrison of Bashi-Bazouks I have great respect. Time after time it has been attacked, and has successfully defeated the at tackers. The last time the Arabs had re course to strategy. They beat their tom toms very vigorously half a mile off; meanwhile they crept silently into the ditch underneath the low bastion where was the one gun of the fort. One of them, however, let off a rifle by accident, and the garrison were at once alarmed Though it was dark they could perceive thousands in the ditch, and they opened a withering fire upon them. The enemy, however, succeeded in actually seizing upon the wheels of the gun and also the legs of the Turkish commandant, who was standing by, and a pull devil, pull baker took place. At length the officer was dragged within the ramparts. Hun dreds of Arabs were mowed down in their desperate attempt to enter. In some places they threw skins over the prickly abattis. At others, where there was no ditch, but merely mimosa against the wall, they mounted on each other’s shoulders. At one time they actually succeeded in bursting open a wicket near the gate, but all who entered were caught in a rat trap—they found them idves in an open court from which there was no exit, and they were mowed down mercilessly. For two hours did the as sault continue. At length the Arabs, having lost the greater part of their number, retired. In these desperate assaults by these Arabs one is reminded of the heroism of their ancestors, the Saracens.” FEMALE EMANCIPATION. “I see, Fanny, you are smoking cigar ettes. Why do you do that ?” asked a 1 ston lady of a strong-minded female friend. “In the first p': c?. I wmt to emanci pate myself, and secondly when I smoke ’ I always think of him, ’ was the reply. “And don’t it make you sick ?” Summer v ilk ©itjetk. VOL. XII. SUMMERVILLE. GEORGI A, WEDNESDAY EVENING, JANUARY 27, 1885. NO. 2. TOO MUCH WHEAT. “Too much wheat!" So the dealers eay, Millions of bushels left unsold Os last year's crop; and now, to-day, Ripe and heavy and yellow as gold, This summer’s crop counts full and fair; And murmurs, not thanks, arc in the air, And storehouse doors are locked, to wait, And men are plotting, early and late. “What shall save the farmers from loss If wheat too plenty makes wheat a dross?” ‘•Too much wheat?” Good what a word ’ A blasphemy in our borders heard. *Too much wheat!” And our hearts were stirred, But yt sterday, and our cheeks like flame, For veng. ance the Lord his loins doth gird, When a nation reads such tale of shame. Hundreds of men lie dying, dead, Brothers of ours, though their skins are red: Men we promised to teach and feed. Oh, dastard nation ! dastard deed ! They starve like beasts in pen and fold! While we hoard wheat to sell for gold. “Too much wheat !” Men’s lives are dross ! “How shall the farmers be saved from loss?” “Too much wheat I” Do the figures lie ? What wondrous yields ! Put the ledgers by ! | “Too much wheat 1” Oh, summer rain, And sun, and sky, and wind from west, Fall not, nor shine, nor blow again I Let fields lie deserts, famine guest Within our gates who hoard for gold Millions of bushels of wheat unsold, With men and women and children dead And daily dying for lack of bread I “Too much wheat!” Good God, what a word 1 A blasphemy in our borders heard. Heijen Jackson. TIM’S BROKEN HEART. “Now, Mary dear, you’re foolin’ I” The speaker was a tall, broad-shoul dered young Irishman, with straight, clear features, frank, loving eyes and a well-shaped, intelligent forehead, from which his curly black hair was brushed carelessly. The yming girl addressed was, as may be supposed, of the same nationality as himself, but one might have gone a good way to find a prettier damsel than she, with her rosy cheeks, bright, sparkling eyes and wavy brown hair. Her white, plump arms, that many a ball-room belle might have envied, were thrown over her head and her eyes were snaj - ping with coquettish merriment. “Now, Mary dear, you’re foolin’l ’and Tim’s black eyes looked lovingly into her brown eyes. “No, indeed, I’m not, Tim Murton I I mean what I say 1” retorted Mary, with a toss of her head; “so, do go along and don’t bother me I” “Ab, now, Mary, jewel, just name the day and then I’ll go1” persisted Tim, coaxingly. “No, I’ll do nothing of the kind I” re plied Mary, more mercilessly than ever. “I guess I’ll have to break off our en gagement, Tim I you’re too bothersome altogether 1” she added, after a little pause. “Oh, Mary 1” gasped poor Tim, re ceding a step or two, “break off the en gagement, darlint ? when I love ye so! You can’t mean it, sure I” “Yes, I do mean it 1” persisted this wayward damsel, who liked nothing bet ter than to torture her lover, who was taking her coquettish words so dread fully to heart. “I guess you needn't come any more, Tim !” “Are you in earnest, Mary, honey?” asked Tim, lugubriously. “To be sure I am; can’t ye see that?” cried Mary, longing to laugh at his woe begone countenance; and, without bid ding him good bye, she tripped gayly into the house. As for Poor Tim, he stood for a mo ment as if his last hope had deserted him, and then turned away with a mel ancholy step. He was walking slowly along, still lamenting over the wilfulness of his capricious little sweetheart, when a step sounded near him, and a hand was laid familiarly on his shoulder, while a cheer ful voice called in his ear: “What’s the matter, Tim, me boy ? Why, considerin’ the direction ye come from, ye oughtn’t to look in that forlorn fashion.” “I’m in trouble, Mike,” said pool Tim, in a mournful tone, as he laid his hand on that of his friend. “Well, out with it, boy,” cried Mike, as Tim paused without any further ex planation; “let's know what it is, an' maybe I can help you. Is it any mis chief that of little witch of a Mary’s brewin’ ?” “Yes; nothing else would have troubled me a bit,” replied Tim; “but she’s given me the mitten, Mike, an’ I don’t know what to do.” “Whist! Give ye the mitten, has she?” exclaimed Mike, scratching his pate, as if to bring any ideas that might ledge therein to the surface. “That's hard! But I’ll tell ye, Tim,” he added, after a pause. “I’ve known Mary ever since she was a little thing, and then she used to plague the life out iv me. She only wants to bother you a little, that’s all; for she'd as soon jump off the top iv the home as give you up, me boy. But she deserves a good scare for her naughtiness, an’ I’ll tell you how to bring’ her round.” “Do you really think she was only jokin’, Mike ?” asked Tim, with a sigh of relief. “To be snre I do, lad,” replied Mike, “and now I’ll tell you howto get her ’>ack again.” Ye will, Mike,” repeated Tim, eager- ly; “oh, an’ you’re a blessed lad if you’ll do that same I Do tell me, quick 1” “Well, listen then,” and Mike pro ceeded to unfold his idea to Tim, who. at the conclusion of it, hugged him like a bear. “Faith, an’ you’re a j’ewel iv a boy, Mike I" he exclaimed ecstatically; “I hate to trate the purty creature so, but ” “She deserves it, an’ it’s no more than fair,” inter] osed Mike calmly. “Well, good-by, then,” and whistling gayly, Tim went off toward his home. The next day as Tim was sauntering across the fields to his dinner, who should he see tripping along over the green, looking ten times prettier and more coquettish than ever, but this same capricious Mary, who had taken bis susceptible heart so completely by storm. At the sight of her Tim’s heart began to beat wildly, and he could hardly keep from rushing forward and catching her in his arms and kissing those tempting cherry lips, but a little saucy toss of her head as she came on decided-him, and he resolved to follow his friend’s advice. The fact was Miss Mary had felt a little uneasy as to what the issue of her last evening’s coquetry and ill-treatment of poor Tim might be. She loved him dearly, and had done so long before the momentous question had been falteringly propounded by brave Tim, who hadn't been absolutely certain whether he stood on his head or on his heels for as much as two hours after; but she was such a wayward little sprite that she was bound to torment him to her heart’s content, and let him see what a sprightly little will she had of her own, when she chose to exercise it. She expected that he would step in and see her on her way to work that morning, as he had been wont to do; but as the gentleman failed to make his appearance, Mary began to fear that he had taken her words in earnest, and so at dinner-time she threw on her bonnet and tripped across the fields, to intercept him, and bring him into allegiance again by one of her captivating smiles. Accordingly she hurried forward to meet him, but, to her surprise, instead of waiting for her to overtake him, Tim walked leisurely and unconcernedly on. and when at last she reached him, all flushed and a little “spunky,” he lifted his hat, and said, in a very polite, but cool tone: “Good morning, Miss Mary.” “Miss Mary, indeed 1” echoed our heroine, greatly surprised at this unex pected greeting, and shrugging her plump shoulders; “for how long have we been such great strangers, Master Tim?” “I believe you have broken our en gagement, so that is enough to make us strangers,” replied Tim, coolly. “Broken the engagement I fiddle sticks I” rejoined Mary, beginning to get a little alarmed at the cool, uncon cerned manner of her usually impetuous lover, although she would not have shownit for the world; “what are you talking such nonsense as that for, Tim ?” “You told me so yourself, last night, ma'am,” responded Tim, composedly. “I’ve been thinking the matter over, an' I don’t know but what the plan would suit me as well, after all.” Had Tim spoken lees coolly, or had his voice faltered Khy, Miss Mary would have turned, and walked off, sure that he would follow her before long; but matters really appeared so alarming, and Tim seemed so perfectly re signed to his lot, that she resolved to stay and coax him into good humor again. “What plan do yon mean?” she asked, somewhat faintly, pulling to pieces a half-blown rose that she had in her hand. “Why, of our forgetting all about each other, and taking up with some one else,” responded Tim, glibly; “I've been thinking who to choose, an' I guess I’ll take Kate Somers; she’s about the nicest girl I know.” “But, Tim ” began poor Mary. “Ami she has quite a nice little sum of money, too, in her own right,” pur sued Tim, remorselessly, who now, that he was fairly in for it, began to enjoy paying his sweetheart back “in her own coin;” “and she’s pretty, has got an ex cellent temper, and would make a very good wife. What do you think about it. Miss Mary ?” “I wish you joy of her 1” exclaimed Mary, longing to get home to cry; and she turned from him, determined to let him go. “Well, good-by,” called Tim, cheer fully, although his heart sank; “I’ll send you a piece of the wedding cake.” And he, too, turned, without looking behind him, and walked on; but just as he was about to despair of the suc cess of bis friend’s project, he heard a light step behind him, and the next mo ment Mary appeared beside him. Her pretty little eyes and nose looked suspiciously red, and her voice trembled a little as she said:- “How soon will you have the wed ding, Tim ?” “As soon as Kate is ready,” replied Tim; “and that reminds me to ask you; have you not got any other beau yet?” “Yes,” answered Mary, withan hys- terical laugh, that with as much pro priety might have been styled a sob. “Would ye mind tellin’ me?” pur sued Tim. “Ob, Tim I” cried Mary, as the last spark of resolution deserted her; “it’s you, Tim I If you’ll forgive me for treating you so bad I” and she threw herself impulsively into his arms and sobbed and laughed alternately. “Whist, Mary, darling, don’t cry I’ cried Tim tenderly, as he drew her to ward him; “we’ll make it all up if ye’ll promise something. ” “What is it?” asked Mary, wiping her eyes with one hand while she held tightly on to him with the other. “Name the day, darlint?” and Tim bent his beaming face and snatched a kiss from the rosy cheek that was turned so temptingly toward him. “You saucy fellow,” cried Mary with some of her old sprightliness, “I’ll make you wait for that I” “Then I’ll go straight off to Kate Somers, by gracious I” returned Tim. attempting to disengage his hand. “Indeed, you’ll not:” retorted Mary; “before you shall go to that old thing, I’ll say—whenever you like, Tim.” “An’ that’ll not be a long time cornin’,” cri> d Tim, rapturously; “and now, jewel, I’ll see you home, an’ then I’ll go back to my work I” “But your dinner?” suggested Maiy. “Here it is,” and taking her in his arms, he—but mercy I If I should stop to relate all that he said and did on that joyous occasion, it would take up more time than I have to spare at present. A Dakota Prairie Fire. An extensive and destructive prairie fire oceured recently in the vicinity of Forman, in Sargent County, Dakota. The Chronicle nays: “ Bunday even ing, as the sun was sinking in the west ern horizon, a fiio was noticed encircling this place, and at no greater distance then twenty miles to the north and west. The scene that immediately fol lowed was too horrible to be thought of. The whole heavens seemed as one mass of seething, hissing fire. The roar that accompanied the fl imos as they darted upward was enough to startle the pioneer and completely shatter the bold and fearless tenderfoot. A cry was raised, and in a few minutes the citizens bad turned out eu masse with wet bugs and coal-oil torches, and going to the north and northwest limits of the town along the wagon trail loading west, im mediately plied the torches. The grass went off like powder, burning a back fire twenty feet wide in an instant, reaching nearly a half a mile. Then to meet the creeping flames approaching from the north, a double back fire was started by the torchmen, and had just been completed when the roar of the flames was heard ascending the hill—only in a moment to flash in the tall grass and meet the back-fire with the swish pe culiar to the concussion following the discharge of a cannon. The fire to the west was then about two miles dis tant, but nearing at the rate of about eighteen miles an hour, and when the north fire had been safely met all hands went to the southwest trail, running to about twenty yards north of the new school-house, and started a back-fire on the north side of the trail, and then bringing the fire over the trail, it was Jet to burn around the south side of the school-house, being watched by eight or ten to prevent the fire spread ing to the building. At one time it seemed as though the blaze would get the best of them, but wet sacks were applied and the flumes subdued. Oth er parties were sent in different direc tions and succeeded in checking the fire. The damage done, however, was estimated at 810,000.” ■■■■■■ I O I Roast Turkey with Oyster Force-meat. Remove aIL/Sathers from the turkey, singe it, and .tripe it over with a wet towel. Lay the bird on its breast, and ent down the middle of the back in a straight line; then cutting from the neck downward, and keeping the knife-blade close to the carcass, find the joints which unite the wings to the body, and unjoint them, leaving the bones of the wings in the flesh; then, still cutting close to the bones, reach the thighs and unjoint them, leaving the bones in the legs; free the carcass of the turkey en tirely from the flesh, taking care not to cut through the outer skin of the bird, especially along the front of the breast bone. When all the flesh has been taken from the bones in this way, lay it, skin downward, upon the table and season it with salt and pepper; remove the gall from the liver, and place the liver on the skin of the neck from which the crop has been removed; next jay on the flesh of the bird the oyster force meat, prepared as directed in the follow ing recipe, draw the skin together at the back and sew it with large stitches, taking care that enough farce-meat is used to fill the body of the turkey out plump. Truss the bird with skewers or string, so that its original shape is re stored, tie a large thin slice of fat salt pork over the breast, and cook as a tur key is usually cooked. When it is done remove the skewers or strings which hold it in place, and serve with gravy made from the drippings in the pan, using the giblets boiled tender, then chopped and added to the gravy. Serve celery with the roast turkey. TRUE BEAUTY AND SALVATION. A For Notre* From Henry Ward Beecher’s Munday Sermon. Mr. Beecher on Sunday morning took three verses of Scripture for his text. Some of the more striking things he said are given below:— “The Greek found beauty on the out side, the Hebrew on the inside. The Greek made visible marble men, the Hebrew chanted the hidden man of the heart.” “I hold that beauty begins within, and that the material and the visible is the effect, not the cause; not the proto type, but the sequence.” “The special power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, so far as it is committed to men, is the power of their beauty in wardly. It is not their eloquence, their songfnlness; it is not their power of genius; it is their power of being good —radiantly good in each part, and so chorally good that, like a mighty chorus made up of many parts and many voices, the one complex and grand sound shall go out to the ears of men. That is the Church.” “The New Testament'is very like some royal woman, rich, and having such multitudinous jewelry that some she keeps in her casket and some in her closet—it is scattered all over the house and never brought altogether at once. So the New Testament don’t bring all all its moral jewelry together in any one place.” “The beauty within man is the dia mond; the exterior beauty is the paste— very beautiful to look at, but it is not the diamond.” “There is not a living man who de serves to live an hour that don’t know that the most beautiful thing in this world is love. Alas I like manna, it lasts but a day; like a dewdrop that is as beautiful as the sun can make it, but vanishes before it is ten in the morning.” “Peace is to joy what the pearl is to the diamond. The diamond flashes with all colors; the pear], serene, quiet in its satiny, silken surface; and yet it is very beautiful. Strange that the pearl should have such a father. But it is just so in human life. We see pearls growing in the human family as in nature.” “I don’t think we got so much out of the catechism, for the reason there ain’t much in it. But I don’t think our capit ularies of doctrines influence man half as much as you think they do. 1 tell you it isn't the ordinances of the sanct uary, the broken symbols—certainly it isn’t the organ or preacher—that make Christian men and women. Boys and girls get their ideas of what is the beau ty of holiness with the father and mother. It is the evolution of the Spirit of Christ in the father and mother and the sister md brother that is the real Gospel to-day.” “The beggarly idea that is prevalent that religion is a mode of saving men— well,from a certain point of view.it is true that to be saved is a thing for aspiration and for longing, and the evidence in a man’s inner self that he has been born again ought to bring forth joy. And yet, as it is held by the common run of minds, it is a beggarly thing the idea that we are to get religion as we would get a ticket for a concert or an opera, and then present our ticket as a pass to our seat in heaven.” The Colored Men’s Exhibits. The negro population of the South has shown the liveliest interest in the oppor tunity offered by the New Or'eans Ex position to evidence the advancement of the race during twenty years of freedom. The leaders of the race in every State of the South have taken the matter in hand and effected a systematic organization and are making effort to secure a credit able display. Enough is known of the success of their efforts to warrant the as sertion that this department of the Ex position will be a genuine surprise to those who have not closely followed the progress of the race in inventions, the mechanical and fine arts, the sciences and in The object of the Exposition management in group ing together the evidences of the rapid development of the race, and in making them a distinctive feature of the enter prise, is greatly appreciated by the col ored people and the appointment of ex- Senator Blanche K. Bruce as the head of the department has added to the feel ing of satisfaction. The department will be controlled exclusively by colored men, and the exhibits will be collected and forwarded by the colored commis sioners in the various States, whose ex penses have been generously assumed by the Exposition management. The departments of colored exhibits was the idea of Director General Burke, and is only one of the many evidences of his admirable qualifications for the position he occupies. ——- In New York city there is an army of office holders. There are 10,832 salaried officials in the city’s employ receiving monthly, 8917,952.40, or an average of SB4 74 each. In addition to these, there were in September 3,224 laborers on the pay-rolls who received 8193,860.09, or an average of 860.13 each. There are a large number of political strikers on the pay-roll who only go to the City Hall on the first day of me month to draw their pay. HARNEY’S RACE FOR LIFE. An Onicer’s Recollections ot an Interesting Episode During the Florida Indian War. In 1839 Gen. Harney had a post with two companies of the Second Dragoons on the Caloosahatchie river, about ten or fifteen miles above its mouth. It enters the Gulf of Mexico at Sanabel Island. The men were mostly in tents. There was a small stockade, a sutler's store and a temporary store-house in the encampment. In the middle of a hot night—l forget the precise date—the Seminoles, num bering three or four hundred, under Arpiaka, the Fish-Eater, and Billy Bowlegs, surprised the post. 001. Har ney, in consequence of the heat and mosquitoes, had taken his blanket and left his quarters to sleep on a knoll on the river bank, where the cool breeze swept over the water. This alone saved his life. He was awakened in the dead of the night by the yells of the Indians, the firing of guns and the shrieks of his dying men. The houses and tents were fired, the soldiers killed before they could offer resistance—in short, it was a massacre of the soldiers—not an In dian killed in the whole affair. Harney, in his shirt and drawers, without a weapon, could only run for life. Capture would be death by the cruelest torture. He ran down the river, through a dense swamp, the In dian yells filling the night air, and he believed them close on his trail. For miles he kept on, the scanty clothes he wore tom all to tatters on the branches as he plunged through the brush, and fast as he went he heard a crash behind him. He was pursued. At last, breathless, worn out so he could run no further, he halted and turned. I give his own words to mp of what then oc curred : “I heard the red cusses close onto me. I knew it was death, but I thought I’d die game. I squared off, clinched my fists and shouted : ‘Come on, you red devils, confound you, come on I' ‘Howly Saints, is that you, Kernel I’ cried one of my own men, the only man besides me that escaped, as he halted within my reach. I was that mad, to be scared by a white man, that I knocked him down on the spot 1 It's a fact. Then I felt ashamed of my act, picked him up, and told him I was sorry.” The two then crawled on through the swamp and got down by daylight to Sanabel Island, swimming across the narrow channel to its sandy shore. The next day we ran in there for water in the Otsego, and found Harney and his soldier almost stark naked on the beach, both hungry and thirsty, but thankful for life. And this is known in Florida war his tory as the “Massacre on the Caloosa hatchie.” The reason of the surprise was, that there was a temporary truce between the Indians and whites, and feeling no danger, the sentinels were few and careless. After that Harney planned and carried out a raid into the Everglades, in which twenty-seven buck Indians were killed or captured—and all of them hung as soon as in our hands. We captured about thirty squaws and children, who were held as prisoners till sent West. I was on the raid In it the late Gen. Ord was shot through the shoulder. He was then a second lieutenant in the Third Artillery. Gen. Sherman, now retired, was a first lieu tenant in the same regiment at the time. ■ ",. An Anecdote of Admiral Foote. From an article on Admiral Foote and the Gunboats, by James B. Eads, in the January Century, we quote the fol lowing: “In the railway train a gentle man who sat in front of me, learning that I had constructed Foote’s vessels, introduced himself as Judge Foote, of Cleveland, a brother of the Admiral. Among other interesting matters, he re lated an anecdote of one of his little daughters who was just learning to read. After the capture of Fort Henry the squadron was brought back to Cairo for repairs, and, on the Sunday following, the crews, with their gallant flag-officer, attended one of the churches in Cairo. Admiral Foote was a thorough Christian gentleman and excellent impromptu speaker. Upon this occasion, after the congregation had some one whispered to him that the minister was ill and would be unable to officiate; whereupon the Admiral went up into the pulpit himself, and after the usual prayer and hymn, he selected as the text John xiv. 1, ‘Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.’ Upon this text he delivered what was declared to be an excellent sermon, or exhortation, after which he dismissed the congregation. An account of the sermon was widely published in the papers at the time, and came into the hands of the little niece referred to. After she had read it, she exclaimed to Mer father: «, “ ‘Uncle Foote did not say that right.’ “ ‘Say what right?’ asked her father. “ ‘Why, when he preached.’ “ ‘What did he say ?’ “ ‘He said, “Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.” ’ “ ‘Well, what should he have said?’ inquired the father. “ ‘Well, he ought to have said, “Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in the gun-boats." ’ ” THE HUMOROUS PAPERS. WHAT WE FIND IN THEIR COLUMNS TO SMILE OVER. The New Klarn—ln an Express Oflioe—The Frolicsome I.lnn—ln Hard Luck—Did lie Love Her* cfr., etc. BAD NO TIME., A gentleman who drove up to the post office yesterday and found no place to hitch his horse called to a bootblack and asked if he did want to earn a nickel. “Can’t do it just now,” replied the lad; "I’m going up the alley to see a slugging match.” Close at his heels was another boy, and the gentleman addressed him with the same inquiry, “Oh, I couldn’t stop a minute,” pro tested the gamin, “ter I’m one of the sluggers he’s going to see slug!”— Detroit Free Press. A PHRENOLOGIST IN BAUD LUCK. First Traveling Phrenologist—“ Can’t you lend me a dollar?” Second Traveling Phrenologist—“My gracious lis that yon ? Why, you look all broken up. Been sick ?” “No, but I’ve had very bad luck.” “I should say so. Never saw you look so seedy. Couldn’t you attract an audience at your last town ?” “Yes, I had a big audience, and dur ing the lecture tried to read characters by the bumps as usual, but I made so many mistakes that the people made me give them their money back and then they mobbed me.” “Made blunders I I can’t understand that. You never failed to recognize bumbs before. What could have been the matter ?” “It seems the town had a new roller skating rink and everybody was learn ing.”— Philadelphia Call. A NEW nEAF. He—But really, my dear, just think how small my income is. Instead of buying a new dress, why not turn the old one ? She—Turn the old one, indeed ! Your income is plenty large enough if you do not spend it all at the club. You better do a little turning yourself. He—l ? Why, what can I turn ? She—Turn over a new leaf.—Phila de.lph'a Call. THAT EXPRESS MATTER. A pop-eyed darkey rushed into an Austin express-office, and asked excited ly: “Is dar any express package here for ‘ Major Jones I” “Have you got an order?” “No, sab.” ‘ ‘You can’t get any thing out of this without an order.” The colored gentleman went two miles and back on the double quick. Once more he stood before the desk, panting and blowing, and fanning himself with his hat. “Heah am de order, Hah." Express agent to clerk: “Any package here for Major Jones?” “No."— Texas Siftings, THE FROLICSOME LION. An old L’on, having concluded to have some fun, dr m himself in the skin of an old Kentucky Mule an 1 set out on a journey for the purpose of deceiving people by his little joke; but he had not gone far before an old Farmer, who, thinking that he hud discovered a stray Mule, seized him, and having hitched him to a plow, broke up four acres of rocky land with him before discovering what kind of an animal he was subject ing to such indignity. Moral :—This Fable teaches that not every Philosopher would sparkle and flourish as a Clown; and that too many jokes often mar the symmetry of agravs discourse. — Life. HE LOVED HER. “Do you love me, dearest ?” she asked of her crusty old husband. “Did you pay those bills yesterday ?’.’ “Yes, but do you—” “Is there anything you want particu ? larly to-day ?” "No, but do you loye me, dearest?” “Well, I guess I do,” he then cau tiously replied, as he carefully placed a newspaper over the pocket where he carried his money.— Graphic. SPELLING IT. “Jeptha,” asked Mrs. Jones, who was writing a letter home. “How do you spell sign ?” “S-i-n e,” answered Jones, who al wnvs spells by sound, “I thought there was a g in it some whe-re, ‘‘remarked Mrs. Jones,doubtfully. “I’hat would makesingof it. S-i-n-e spells Sign.” “That’s so,” said Mrs. Jones proudly, and wrote home that her husband had a new sine painted for his store.”— Detroit F. ec Press. ’ ONE OF THEM. Stephen A. Douglas used to tell a story of his meeting in Congress, when he came on at one session, an old Demo cratic friend by the name of Anthone Kennedy, representing one of the strong est Whig districts in Indiana. “How in the world did you get here, Kennedy ?” was his salutation to him. “Get here I” replied Kennedy. “Why I defeated two of the strongest Whigs in my district, and I could have beaten a half dozen more if they had brought them on.” JULIUS DIDN T HIT IT. There were three or four of us in a grocery store in Macon when a tall, solemn looking negro entered and pre sented a written order for 85 worth of goods. “Did Col. Dunlap give you this order ?’’ sharply inquired the grocer. The negro scratched his head and looked uneasy. “Did he sign it for you 1” “Say, boss,” slowly began the man, ■‘has you any doubts datKemul Dunlap signed dat ar’ order ?” “Os course I have !” "Den dat settles de case an’ I doan want no trade. If my son Julius can’t do better dan dat arter practicin’ fur a hull week l’M gwine home to tell him dat he’d better drap edneashun an’ pick up de cotton-chopper I”— Detroit Free Press.