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WITH ALL HER FAULTS I LOVE
HER.
From the Jlulge.
It's true she write* a scfawly hand.
Puts iu two "tV where Duo would do.
And -pulls "dog" where an extra "g;"
Put not a girl in this wide land
Is hall so dear, and very few
One-tenth as sweet as she to me.
Dear thing! she sometimes says ‘‘l seen."
"They was," "I's not," or "So be you;"
Them's yours," "They's good"—harsh to
iny ears;
I B’.tt she is still niy lovely queen,
I Whose heart-beats are to mine most true,
And will be yet for many years.
I gome say that love is blind, and I
I Would add that love is deaf also.
Though gram marl ess ana spelling bad,
I jt' love is handsome, sweet ana shy,
I The secret of our love you'd know?
She's only five and I'm her dad.
THE SWELL BALLET OF JAPAN.
I The Maiko—Girls in Gorgeous Fabrics
Glide About.
From the. La at ion Times.
Kioto, as the Mikado’s capital and the
I centre of aristocratic residence, was always
I famous, and is famous still, for the variety
I and excellence of its dances, as well as for
I the beauty, grace, and skill of the perform-
I el's, whose accomplishments are a household
[ word in Japan. No visitor should leave
I Kioto without seeing a Maiko entertain-
I mer.t. For centuries it was the chief school
I of the art, produced its own high-class types,
I in u hic-h the object always aimed at was to
I preserve, amid all variety, the courtly ele-
I gance and dignity and beautiful apparel of
| the ancient styles. Such, for example, is
I the Shirabiyoshi, a pure Kioto dance or con-
I siderable antiquity. And such, though of
I modern date, is the Miyako-Odori, or metro-
I politan dance, devised barely twenty years
I ago by a late director of the dancing society
I of Kioto.
A representation of this refined dance has
I just been prepared for the stage with great
I care in honor k of the Mikado’s visit, and lhad
I an opportunity of witnessing its performance
I a few evenings ago,
The theatre is of plain unvarnished and un-
I minted wood, the most striking features be-
I ing the ponderous roof, carried on a single
I span of some fifty feet, and the high ex
cellence of the carpenters’ and joiners’ work.
Besides the main stage in front, there are
two narrower stages, occupying the right
and left sides of the building. On the fourth
I side, facing the main stage, is a large room
like box for the imperial family and court,
and in front of it two or three tiers of raised
I seats, plainly a modern innovation. The
I body of the auditorium, occupying the
I space between the side stages, is a flat, un
divided matted area, in, or rather on,
which the spectators sit in Japanese fash
[ ion, and solace themselves with their tiny
[ pipes of fragrant tobacco and little cups of
I tea.
On entering we find the stages concealed
I by curtains of white silk crape, painted with
I pine, bamboo, and plum trees, the emblems
lof longevity, vigor, and fragrance. These
| are the only decorations, The lighting is
footlights, with candles for the stage, and
hanging lamps and rows of candles for the
rest of the interior.
On the rise of the curtains the scene in
I front represents a summer house in the
I grounds of the Mikado’s palace, girt by a
I veranda with red lacquered steps and rail
ings, and hung with bamboo blinds. Right
and left, on each side stage, is a crimson
dais, on which are seated eight girl musicians,
I or geisha, from about 18 to 20 years of age,
I clothed in soft raiment of brilliant hues, and
got up from head to foot in the highest style
I of Japanese art,
The eight on the right are players of the
I samisen, a species of three-stringed guitar,
the chords of which are struck with au ivory
plectrum. Of those on the left four play the
tsuzumi, a small drum held in the ah' and
struck with the hand, the other four per
forming alternately with the taiko, or flat
drum, and bells of delicate tone. Music and
s inging are at once begun. These are of the
duaint and, for the most part, somewhat
dismal type peculiar to the higher flights of
the musical art in Japan. One must be a
Japanese to appreciate them. Time and
tune, however, are evidently well kept, and
the performance is doubtless good of its
kind. After a short overture, the Maiko
appear, entering at the extremities of the
side stages, right and left of the imperial
box, and moving in single file toward the
main stage. Their advance, extremely slow,
can only be described as a progress. It is
not a march; neither is it a dance as we un
derstand the term. Stately almost to
solemnity, yet full of grace, it is a
series of artistic posturings and panto
mime, in time with the music and accom
panied by the slowest possible forward move
ment.
By the time all of the danseuses have en
tered there are lt> on either side —young girls
of from about 15 to 17 years old. In dress
they are counterparts of the musicians—
aglow w ith scarlet, light blue, white, and
gold, in robes of great length and volumin
ous folds, bound with girdles of truly
prodigious dimensions. In spite, however,
of the gorgeous coloring, there is nothing
garish or distasteful to the eye. No conon of
art or taste is offended. The secret lies in
the fabric of the girls’ garments—silk crape,
the delicate softness of which relieves the
brilliancy of tints that might otherwise be
displeasing.
In person the Maiko are the prettiest little
specimens of budding Japanese girlhood,
rosy-lipped and black-eyed, with comely and
delicate features, tiny bands and feet, and
an air of graceful modesty and innocence
rarely seen on any stage. As for their
coiffure, it is a miracle of the Japanese hair
dresser's skill, and rich with adornments of
p>wers and coral. How much of their
l>f-auty these dainty little lasses may owe to
art it might be unkind to inquire too closely.
Kioto is famed for its' manufacture of
shiroi, a white lead cosmetic of rare virtue,
and said to be used with a skill which West
ern ladies of fashion would give a good deal
to possess. But surely there can be little
need for it here, if we may judge from the
whiteness of tho Maiko’s hands and of as
nmchTif her arms as is now and then re
vealed to us. There is also a Japanese rougo
of great merit, which uncharitable persons
might suspect of having a share in the bril
liancy of those “threads 0 f scarlet,” the
Maiko’s lips.
Imy razors, too, are even supposed by
w>nie malignant minds to play a part in the
nnely penciled eyebrows of Japanese belles,
fans, of course, play a prominent part in the
intricate gestures of the Maiko. Those car
ried now are large and circular, and richly
bedecked with red and white flowers. With
these, as with their heads, hands, limbs, and
bodies, the flies display to the full, on their
slow progress up the theatre, that music of
motion which so delights the eyes of the
Japanese. Thus, turning, bowing, swaying
Kneeling, and waving, always gracefully
and in time with the music, the ranks at
length meet on the front stage, pass one
another, and retire again down the sides, at
the end of which they turn, form into pairs,
atm regain the stage, one wing soon leaving
n, while the other continues thodaneebe
mre the footlights for a few miuutes, when
it also retires.
All this while the music goes on, now sad
anil slow, anon in livelier strains, and is no
omjiauied by the voices of the tnimisen
piayei-s, chanting a hymn of happiness,
prosperity, and peace, in which the regin
I! " u r Lord the Mikado” is likened, in
ughiy flowery language, to the beauty and
rnnquillity of nature "at this first dawn of
spring. *
111,5 bamboo blinds of the veranda are
raiM*d, revealing the first squadron of dancers
"'lured in picturesque groups between a
.••kgronial of deau gold and the crimson
m 3 uer the veranda. These, descending
resume the dance. They have
e-inv. i flower-girt fans, and
, Sin has a tsnxuuiL attached to her
bivhwttra B * u ' accompanies the
I o them, on their withdrawing, succeed
vKif e, * , i | l ■'Kpiadron, who, with scarlet and
„ , “ lans, go through a measure of sin
gai.tr grace and beauty, and at length retire
uio veranda, which rises with than.
bringing the first scene to a close. The
second scene is laid in the famous gardens
of Arashiyama in the suburbs of Kioto, and
appears as a fairyland of flowering cherry
trees, lit by a galaxy of minute star-like
lamps. Here the whole corps gradually re
assemble and at lengeh execute a final dance
of the same type as before. Jafter which they
dance bv the side stages with the slow measur
ed movements that marked their first en
trance.
Tiius, after about an hour’s performance,
ends the Miyako-Odori. It illustrates no
tale or plot. It is only an elaborate meas
ure, of “woven paces and of waving hands,”
such ,os Vivien may have trodden “in the
w-ild woods of Broeeliande.” It has no
objects but those of exhibiting color raiment
grace, and beauty with all tho .skill that Jap
anese art taste can contrive, and of preserv
ing the old classic style of dancing, and set
ting examples of tho highest forms of strict
feminine etiquette.
The Story of Tom, Joe and Jake.
From the S:dt iMke Tribune.
Tom Collette, with two friends whom I
shall christen Joe and Jake, was making a
slow and painful journey from Pine Grove,
Esmeralda county, to Eastern Nnvada.
They camped one afternoon near some hot
springs not far from Walker Lake. Dis
covering a large hole or pool that was full
of Cold water and convenient to one of the
hottest of the hot springs, they turned the
hot water as it flowed out of the spring into
the pool, until the hot and cold water blend
ing made exactly the right temperature for
a bath. This done, they plunged in and en
joved the delicious water as only those can
who have traveled some days over dusty al
kali trails in hot weather. When supper was
over and they had lighted their pipes, the
theme of conversation for a long time, as
they smoked, was the delicious bath they had
taken and the wonderful sense of refresh
ment it had brought them. Full of the joy
of it, they spread their blanket on a grassy
spot beneath some willows a few yards dis
tant from the spring, and fell asleep.
Tom was up with the dawn. Recollec
tions of his fine bath of the previous even
ing were still fresh in his mind. So, bound
ing up from his blankets with a skip and a
jump he plunged into the pool to his middle.
With a groan of agony he sprang out again
with the agility of a wildcat. The hot
water had been running all night. Hours
before dawn the cool water pool had been
rendered almost as hot as that of the hot
spring itself. Brief as had been the period
between the entry and his exit, Tom’s fair
skin was changed to the color of a boiled
lobster. Ho was soon in a terrible state, as
the skin was almost sufficiently cooked to
peel off. As he asserts, he “was as tender
as a young pullet that had been cooked two
hours.” With infinite care he drew on his
pantaloons and boots, though he felt as
though the cooked flesh were peeling off in
strips wherever his clothing touched him.
Forcing back the teare of anguish that
were welling out of eyes Tom crept back to
camp. Though it was a most difficult thing
to do, he put on his old-time frank smile
as he neared the sleeping place at the wil
lows, for Jake had awakened and was sit
ting on his blankets, gaping and stretch
ing.
Seeing Tom approach, Jake asked where
he had been —if he had been out looking
after their ponies. Tom replied that he had
so enjoyed his bath of the evening before,and
been so much benefitted by it, that he could
not think of breaking up camp without re
peating it.
“Jake,” said he, “it’s just lovely!”
Jake did not wait to near more. Bounc
ing up from his blankets he rushed away to
wards the pool. As swiftly as he could
move, considering the tender condition of
his skin, Tom followed, and dodging behind
a convenient clump of willows, kept covert
watch. Jake threw off the few duds in
which he had slept, bounced into the pool,
uttered a yell of mingled anguish and rage,
then clawed his way out upon the green turf
with the celerity of an adder. As soon as he
stood erect he began making swift applica
tions of his open hands to various puts of
•his body to arrest the pain, each particular
square inch of his hide seeming to hurt
worse than the other. All this time he was
swearing a blue streak. Louder and louder
rose his voice, as light began to break upon
his mind, when Tom stepped out from his
hiding place crying:
“Hush up! Would you bawl like a bull
calf and give us away, when that that other
son of a gun up in camp is not yet cooked?
You and I have hail our dose. Man, we
must cook him or we shall never hear the
last of it?”
Soothed by this, Jake carefully drew on
his trousers and shirt and the pair leisurely
proceeded to camp.
By this time Joe had commenced to rouse
up. Seeing Tom and Jake approaching he
asked if they had “found the stock—the
ponies?”
“Ponies, no,” said Tom, “we haven’t been
looking for the ponies. We have been tak
ing a bath. Do you think,” said he, as he
stood holding his pantaloons away from the
rear of his person, “do you think we’d break
camp without one more magnificent swim ?
Not much.”
At this Joe sprang up, crying:
“Not much, you bet!” and dashed away
toward the little pond. As Joe disappeared
behind the willows Tom sprang for his pistol
and took off all the caps. He and Jake then
secured their own revolvers, Tom crying;
“Getyour pistol, Jake —quick! There’ll
be business when Joe comes back!”
In about two minutes Joe did come back.
He was howling and cursing furiously, and,
all naked as he was, never stopped run
ning until he had got his six-shooter in his
hand. 1
“Drop it!” said Tom, “I have a dead bead
on you, and so has Jake. Besides, I took all
the caps off your gun.”
The difficulty was amicably settled as soon
as Jake and Tom had related their experi
ence. The trio took their breakfast stand
ing that morning, and —to spare the ponies—
they did not ride much for the succeeding
three days.
An Odd Incident.
From the Philadelphia Record.
An odd incident happened recently at the
West Arch Street Presbyterian church.
There was to to a wedding there at 7:80
o’clock of a young lady of extensive social
connection in that and other churches.
There were great preparations, and it so
filled the minister’s mind that he entirely
overlooked the fact that he had an apjxfint
ment to marry another pair at exactly the
same hour. When 7:15 arrived the large
church was as full of people as it could possi
bly be, and the pavement on each side of the
projecting awning was crowded with the
non-invited, waiting for that boon which the
highest to the lowest enjoys—a peep at the
bride. There were at least fifty or sixty
carriages in front of tho church. Among
the guests in the church were bankers,
judges, lawyers, numerous clergymen and
a fine representation generally of tho city’s
very best social and material prosperity.
The organ was pealing and the minister was
in his place. Just at this juncture bride and
bridegroom-elect No. 2 who had been ut the
minister's house and been told to go to the
church, drove up in a carriage to_ the side
door and entered. Around tlu"*ide door
everything was uuiet ns if nothing was
going on. Through the door leading from
tho (diapol they saw tho illuminuted and
crowded church, and just then the other
bride in white, with jewels and at
tended by a bevy of radiant
bridesmaid)*, all in golden-colored gowns,
and attended by a retinue of elegant looking
youths, came up the aisle. It was carious
surprise for the puzzled pair in the chapel.
While the last of tho guests were going aud
the sexton was putting out the lights the
minister married the second pair briefly iu
the chapel The bride was in a plain travel
ing dress and the groom ill ordinary attire.
When they came out to enter the solitary
carriage that stood on the side of the street
she whs leaning proudly on his arm, and
they looked at least as happy as the other
pair.
*“So Bilklnson is settling up his debts.”
“I bear he is.”
“Hus he squared things with you yet?”
“No. But I’m a friuud of his, you know.”
—Town Tovum.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MAY 29, 1887—TWELVE PAGES.
COLUMBIA CONDEMNS GEORGE.
Prof. Dwight Boldly Denounces t.h*
New Land Doctrine as Immoral.
From the Xeic York Herald.
Prof. Theodore W. Dwight stood on the
stage of the Metropolitan Opera House last
night and in a ringing speech sweepingly
denounced the hunt doctrine of Henry
| George and Dr. MeGlynn. It was the com
j meueement night of the Columbia College
! Law School, and, as warden, he was ad
dressing 12U graduates, not to mention a
vast andience that filled every seat in the
[ great edifice. Behind him, in his official
robes and mortar board, was President
Barnard, of Columbia College. His speech
was received with terrific applause.
“The lawyer,” he said, “is to-day con
fronted by a most momentous and startling
question raised seriously for the first time in
thousands of years—ls there any such tiling
as individual property, particularly proper
ty in land. All of our predecessors have
been relieved from the discussion of this
question since the days of Abraham, who
bought a piece of land for a burial place in
the presence of the children of Heth, and it
was made sure unto him for a possession.
This means in our modern phrase that he
had it in fee simple.
“From that day to the present moment
no one of importance hus denied the right of
private property in land. In particular, no
one until now has propped to confiscate it
after it has been acknowledged and incor
porated with the most arduous labors and
hallowed by the most tender affections
known to the strength and the heart of man.
IT WOI'I.D REVERSE CIVILIZATION.
“All this is left to the philosophers of our
day who have derived their capacity to at
tack the right of property from the leisure
and culture attainable by reason of its uni
versal recognition. Without it we would
return to the nomadic condition when each
man, clad in his sheepskin and leaning on
his staff, shivered as he watched the stars by
night and longed for the coming of the day.
The men who now attack the right of prop
erty in land may main well, but that is so
much the worse. The better their inten
tions the greater the mischief.
If it were known that they
had a bad intention good men would at
once forsake them. We can now see how
wise our forefathers were when they w rote
over the face of their political constitution
the sacred and time-honored phrase that
‘private property shall not be taken even
for public use without just compensation.’
This grand idea they borrowed from Chris
tianity and the Christian church as far
back as the days of Justinian. It cannot lie
withdrawal from the United States consti
tution without the consent of three-fourths
of the States. It can no more be withdrawn
indirectly than directly, as for example by
a tax cunningly devised for this purpose. No
State can take an iipmoral position on such
a question as this at this stage of the world’s
civilization.
“Without property in land no man has
an assured birthplace or burial place. No
tree can be planted that he can call his own
nor any dwelling erected that can give him
shelter. There can be no churches but
State churches, no colleges or schools but
State colleges and State schools. When the
State owns all the land and, all the improve
ments what a tempting prize that will be
for some bold adventurer.
“What is the law- for? I reply, to stand
like a wall against the impending deluge,
and to insist at all times and against all
comers upon the sacred right of property,
and to establish and faithfully administer
such laws as will assure to the laboring man
as well as to the rich a share of that gift of
God which he gave to man, not to hold by
any casual and wandering title, but by that
fixed law which society establishes as most
likely to develop the individual man and to
make the State great and prosperous, at
once the symbol and promoter of civilized
justice.
THE LAND AGITATOR WILL PERISH.
“Great fundamental facts will remain;
those who attack them will disappear with
out leaving a trace. Great principles once
fixed in the minds of men never grow obso
lete. They cannot be hurled from their
Elace by any man, no matter what may be
is popularity. In a few years all that will
be loft of the great agitator of to-day will
be a few lines in a biographical dictionary.
No priest of to-day will for a moment rival
in New York the great Savonarola of Flor
ence. The great historic church which seven
centuries ago caused the haughty Philip Au- ■
fustus of France, despot as no was, to ac
nowledge the sacmlness of private proper
ty in land null know how to deal with its
froward children of the hour.
A QUESTION OF MORALITY.
“It is a flagrant abuse of language to call
the pending question a political question—it
is a great social and moral question. When
one’s house is threatened with fire it is
scarcely a political question to devise means
to protect and save it.”
LIVING IN THE GROUND.
A Peep at Questions Which Will Arise
in a Thousand Years or So.
Some day, when the archaeologist of the
three-thousandth century is excavating
America, he will come upon traces of a kind
of people he will not understand, says a
writer in the San Francisco Ch ronicle. He
will write volumes upon the subject of the
strange race who; some time in the dim past,
looking from that time, lived in holes in the
ground. He will find pans and cooking uten
sils und picks and shovels down anywhere
from 3 to 3,000 feet under the
earth, and he will prove from them that the
inhabitants of this great continent to-day
had their habitations there because of the
weather or earthquakes or something. The
holes in the ground will never be proved to
be mines. There will be enough doubt ou
the subject, raised by the discovery of the
tailings, to awaken arguments and give the
scientific world that only chance of being
heard by the loudness of its quarreling over
trifles. But there are millions of holes in
the ground in Neva la which will be abso
lute proof that it was not milling, because
the ai-chiuologist will never be
able to find a trace of Imetal
of any kind of them. The futuro arcrueolo
gist is going to have lots of fun. He’ll try
and decipher old notices of claims, and then
he’ll publish reams of paper giving ingeni
ous explanations of that ago when men had
such numerous families that they had to lo
cate 1,500 feet for burial plats for one man
and his progeny. He’ll pick up on the 3,000-
foot level a piece of newspaper that hascov
erod some miner’s lunch, and he will prove
from that that the crust of the earth must
have l>een transparent in the nineteenth cen
tury, because people can’t read newspapers
without light. Oh, yes I I’d like to wake up
about th thirtieth century and see how
they fancy we lived in the nineteenth.
It would not lie a bad idea for the State
to buy the Comslook for a burying-ground.
We could then boast of our catacombs. The
public have purchased it and had it ail care
fully cut out with galleries ami things.
Ami they could then put up slatis and stones
as they doin Westminster Abbey, don’t you
know. The übiquitous tourist who always
goes into a church in a strange country with
his hat on, because God knows he has a pew
at home, would lie able to define the progress
of humainity in the mining business by
studying such inscriptions as:
at
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF
JOHN SMITH.
Paid 115 Assessments and Got told Out.
R. L P.
Advice to Mothers.
Mrs. 'Winslow’s Soothing Syrup should
always Ite used when children are cutting
teeth. It relieves tho little suffer at once; it
produces naturul, quiet sleep by relieving
tho child from inuu and the little cherub
awakes as “bright as a button.”
It is very pleasant to taste. It soothe* the
child, softens tho gums, allays ail tain, re
lieves wind, regulates tlio towels, and is tho
licet known remedy for diarrhoea, whether
arising irom teething or other causes. 25
oeuls a bottle.
A STUDY OF THE THUMB.
ITS PLACE AND POWER IN HU
MAN AFFAIRS.
What Writers of All Ages Have Had
to Say About It Customs, Uses and
Abuses—Mutilation to Escape Mili
tary Servioe.
Fi om aft English Paper.
On the length, strength, free lateral mo
tion and perfect mobility of the thumb de
pends the power of the human hand. The
thumb is called jwllex because of its strength
and that strength is necessary to the power
of the hand, being equal to that of all the
fingers. Without the fleshy boll of the
thumb the power of the fingers would avail
nothing, and accordingly the large boll
formed by Die muscles of the thumb is tho
distinguishing character of the human hand.
The loss of the thumb almost amounts to
the loss of the hand, and were it to happen
in both hands it would reduce a man to a
miserable dependence, or, ns Adonibezek
said of tile three score and ten kings, the
thumbs of whose hands (and of whoso feet,
too) he had cut off, “They gather their meat
under my table.” Such is the language used
by Sir Charles Bell, F. R. 8., etc., the late
eminent physician, in his celebrate! Bridge
water treaties on “The Hand,” about this
most important part of the grand prehen
sile mechanism which so distinguishes man
from most of tho lower animals. The
origin of the word “thumb” is probably
from the Sanscrit root taumi. to grow
large, and connected with the Latin t.umeo ,
to swell. In Anglo Saxon the word was
thuma, iu Danish teinmel finger, and it has
also been termed antidigit, from its posi
tion and uses. The Greeks called it an
ticheir, or another hand. Tho Romans
knew it as poUex , a noun derived from tho
word polleo, to be strong, to excel, thus in
dicating both its general excellence and its
special superiority over the other component
parts of the hand.
The thumb is no mean memlier of the hu
man body, for in the brilliant days of Rome,
when the' multitude had to be pleased by dis
plays provided for them in tlie amphithea
tres, it had life and death at its command.
A singly movement, a .slight, inflection of its
joints one way or the other,settled the fate
of many a one. Of course we allude to the
practice pursued at the gladiatorial shows
of deciding whether the poor wretches who
hacked and slashed each other or who
fought with wild Ixjusts for the delectation
of the mob or amusement of their masters
should lie allowed to survive the combat or
not. This was indicated by the spectators
turning the thumb up or down. Among
the Romans to close down {he thumbs
(premere) was a sign of approbation, but to
extend it (vertere. or pollex infestus) was a
sign of disapproval. So if a gladiator, after
fighting bravely with man or beast, was at
last worsted and put at his oppnent’s mercy,
the onlookers would sometimes interpose
and save his life by elevating their hands
and turning their thumbs downward. The
fiat thus expressed was all powerful to save.
But if they were displeased with the con
duct of any particular combatant they al
most uniformly condemned him to death by
elevating their thumbs and bending them
outward, and the poor wretch thus despised
was dispatched accordingly by the weapon
of his adversary; or if that adversary hap
pened to be a 1 least he was left to perish be
neath its fangs unpitied and unaided. In
allusion to the practice of the popu
lace at these degrading spectacles, Juvenal
says:
The vulgar with uplifted thumbs,
Kill each one that before them comes,
And this was indeed the case when the state
of public affairs put them into an evil torn*
]ier. Happily, such methods of entertain
ing a troublesome proletariat have passed
away; but we huvean acknowledgment of
tlie entire submission of one person to the
stronger will of another in the term “under
one’s t humb,” an expression that has become
quite classic, for docs not the Edinburgh
Review says:
“Gunhilda soon hail him completely un
der her thumb; and instead of his making
her, she unmade him, and was in every re
spect the evil genius of him and his chil
dren.” .And Riehanison, the novelist, also
lias, “She is obliged to lie silent! I have her
under my thumb.”
The thumb has in past days played an
important part, too, in bargain making.
Tacitus, for example, tells us that certain
barbarian kings, when they desired to make
a s]>eoially firm and lasting contract, were
in the habit of joining their right hunds and
twisting each other’s thumbs, or tying them
together with a cord, and when the pressure
forced the blood to appear at the tips, they
then pricked theni with some sharp instru
ment and mutually sucked them. This act
was doubtless meant as an emblem to ex
press their desire to secure a lasting peace •
by extracting the hot and fiery blood from
that member, so important in handling
arms. In later times we find the Celtic and
Gothic races practicing something like the
same mode. They swore upon the thumb.
Thus Allen Ramsay sings:
Though kith and kin and a’ should revile thee,
There’s my thumb, I’ll ne’er beguile thee.
If two persons respectively licked or wet
ted their thumlis anil joined the one to the
other the bargain or agreement was held to
bo firm and binding. In Scottish records
decrees are to be found sustaining sales
upon summonses of thumb licking, the fact
of that ceremony having been gone through
at the time of bargaining being considered
to constitute a valid agreement. Such was
a custom really prevalent among farmers
and tradesmen in that country some fifty
years ago in markets and places of sale. The
wet thumb was a token of rectitude of in
tention seldom falsified, and the man who
broke his word after confirming it by that
sign was looked upon as one whom no oaths
could bind. This may be the origin of a
custom among school children, known to
most parent and teachers, of wetting the
finger and saying, “Is that wet.f” then wip
ing it and miking, “Is that dry f” etc., when
they are agreeing upon or bargaining tor
anything among their companions. The
act also meant that two persons had a com
munity of opinion on any subject. Thus
the saying may be still heard in some
parts of Scotland, “We may lick thooms
upo! that’’—i. e., we are quite agreed ujion
that point.
At one time, wearing a ring on the thumb
was a sign of authority. The word “thumb
ring” occurs in Shakespeare, in 1 Henry
IV., 11. and 4, where old Faistaff says, “A
plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man
up like a bladder. When I was about thy
years, Hal, 1 was not an eagle's talon in the
waist; I could have crept info an Alderman's
thumb ring.” Much an article was actually
worn by those civic functionaries in (ast days
and perhajH as a sign of resjieot entertained
for the thumb itself. The “ring of rings”—
the wedding ring—is now worn on the
fourth digit of the hand, rierhajw from a
notion that was held by tuo “leeches” of
bygone days that an artery went from it
straight to the heart; but our maternal
ancestors, less romantic, it would seem, than
their fair descendants, often wore that
charmed circlet on the thumb. Although
the ring was always placed upon the fourth
finger in church it was not always allowed
to remain there. English Indies were wont
to transfer the golden fetter to their ttimhe,
a custom perhaps originated by some high
bride whose linger, like that of Suckling's
heroine.
Was so small the ring
Would not stay on which they did bring.
It was too wide a peck.
At Stanford Court., Worcestershire, may
l>e seen the portraits of five ladies of the
Salways family, who lived iu the days of
Queen’Bess, all of whom carry their wed
ding rings upon their thumbs. Boi
ler bears witness to this practice in his
lines:
Others were for abolishing
That tool of inatrigiony, a ring.
With which the urtsancllfled bridegroom
Is married only to a thumb
Shakespeare lias a go-id many references to
the member now under our consideration.
In “Romeo and Juliet” w • have the expres
sion, “bite my thumb et t lem,” meaning to
feel dislike and vexation toward certain
persons so indicated tl on and by many of
us in the same way row. Again, the thumb
was thought to tool dewed with fore knowl
edgod and a peculiar do ;ree of spiritual con
sciousness. How else can we account for
the exclamaon of oi.e of the wierd sisters in
Macbeth:
By the pricking < f m v thumbs
Something wicki and this way comes.
Other writers nnk > use of similar ex
pressions implying ft is endowment. How
fortunate that in this gross world of stern
fact nowadays tin 11 nub should no longer
possess its ancient p over, for we think the
pricking might now be annoyingly fre
quent! Once nor; tho great dramatist
shows knowledge o/ the thumb's value in
another exclamiv io i of one of the Macbeth
witches. Know ng that upon the helm de
pends the safety of the ship and upon the
Idiot’s hand depends the right guiding of the
llom, and that his hand would be without
skill and power de (rived of the thumb, he
makes the rove: go ul sister says:
Here I have u pilot’s thumb.
Wrecked as I cm nvard he did come.
The possession of that potent member would
give her the power of misleading and temp
est tossing tne b o-k of the unfortunate
“Master of tie Tiger,” whose ehestuut
munching wife hxi roused her anger by
saying “Aroint thee, witch.”
The thumb is introduced into English
speech and life iu many ways. Tho young
child sucks his thu üb, a little older he rends
of “Hop o’ u y Thumb,” as a schoolboy
thumto his bocks o- as a girl thumto over
a tune, and the workman too often dot's his
work merely by the rule of thumb. This
last expression is used to describe a practi
cal rattier than a scientific method. It has
often produced good results in the past,
when guided by sterling good sense ami
large experience; but the demands of
modern manufactures and world wide com
i petition necessitate such niceness and ac
curacy as are unattainable by the rule of
thumb. The origin of this expn'ssion is said
to to from the well known practice among
women and peddlers of reckoning the
thumb’s breadth as ono inch in measuring.
Of course no great accuracy could attend
this method of computation, and so now we
apply the phrase jestingly to any rough and
ready way of doing a thing. There was a
fine assurance of prevalent honesty about
the old practice, though it certainly laid
buyers too much at the mercy of wily ped
dlers. In this connection we may mention
the dishonest practice of “push thumb,”
said to have’toen done by dishonest haber
dashers in measuring silks, etc., by which
the yard was short of the length of the
thumb’s first joint, pushed in a skillful man
ner by the shopman when measuring by the
yardstick.
How essential to all manual operation is
the thumb—-o. g., to hold the pen, to lift a
latch, to press a spring, to use the scales; in
short, to do a hundred things the antidigit
is necessary.
Thumbs, too, are essential helps to or
atory. It was so in Quintilian’s day, for he
tells us of the various modes of employing
the fingers and thumb in oratorical de
livery. Many a successful speaker or
noted orator in these days shows now much
he depends uixm ite aid during his addresses
by perpetually tapping it with tho fore
finger of the opposite hand. At every tap
no doubt the thumb gives out au unseen
stream of eloquence, electrical, perhaps, in
ite nature, and of course all the more cal
culated to powerfully affect the audience!
Then how many of our platform speakers
have a habit of putting the thumto into tho
armholes of their vest, and thus presenting
a told front to their auditory.
In time of persecution the poor thumb
lias tom made the vehicle for experiencing
torture by the use of “thumbkins,” “thuulb
iekins.” or the “thumbscrew.” This instru
ment for compressing the thumbs was much
used by the Spanish inquisitors, and it was
also used occasionally in Britiau —when to
otitaiu a confession or recantation —because
it caused exquisite pain without endanger
ing tho life of the victim. Gon. Dalzoll
brought thumbkins into use in torturing the
poor Scotch (jovqnanters. The last recorded
instance of their application in the Old
World was in the case of Principal Care
stairs, who in lf)84 was effectually tortured
nt the orders of the Scotch Privy Council,
with the view of making him reveal tho
secrets of the Argyle and Monmouth parties.
The very pair of thumbscrews which crush
ed his thumb tones and caused his arms to
swell to the shoulders are still preserved.
When Carstairs was introduced to King
William after the Revolution in 1088 the
monarch is reported to have inquired atout
the thumbkins. “I will some (lav show them
to you,” said tho principal. lie obtained
them from the new Privy Council of Scot
land. “I must try them,” said the King.
“I must put in my thumbs there.
Now, principal, turn tne screw. Oh, not
so gently; another turn; another. Stop!
stop! No more; no more! Another turn,
I am afraid, would make mo confess any
thing.”
The thumb is a sine qua non to the
soldier, it is in the art military that it as
sumes its greatest importance. To escape
militry service it has been in all ages the
practice to mutilate the hand by cutting off
the thumb. In ancient Rome severe laws
were passed to prevent thumb mutilation,
yet the practice had become so common in
the time of Theodosius that the word jxd
troon, as a synonym for coward, came into
vogue. This word is compounded otpollice
truncus, mutilated in the thumb, and to
day, in our own language, the word lias a
place and the same meaning—coward. To
pull tho trigger of a musket, to handle the
sword, etc., the thumb is indispensable. To
thumto, then, we may ascribe the most
glorious victories as well as the most desolat
ing wars of oppression. True, then, it is
“thumbs make heroes.”
The snuff taker finds the thumb very
useful, as Shakespeare shows when Kneak
ing of the fop of olden days (Henry IV., I,
3):
Betwixt his Anger and his thumb he held
A pouncet box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose.
So thumbs have something to do with help
ing the revenuo. Other more significant
gesture* we might advert to, but we close
by hoping this paper will be well thumbed
and by quoting Fielding’s words, which,
though applied to the renowned Tommy
Thumb, the aou of Gaffer Thumb, are ap
plicable to the two jointed digit:
Kay where's the mighty Thumb, our sword and
buckler?
Though 'gainst us men and giants league with
gods,
Yet Thumb alone is equal to more odd*.
A Rival to tho Ocklnwaha.
From the Fort Myers Press.
Ijost Saturday Col. H. L. Hart and W. J.
Webb, of l'alatka, came down the Calooea
hatchoe river from Fort Thompson in a
skiff, leaving the steamer Rosalie there
with a sriag Txiat. In a short conversation
we learn that Col. Hart is entirely satisfied
with the feasibility of the Ualooealiateheo
river route, and he avers tliut no such mag
nificent scenery exists on either the Goto
waha or St. John's us is to be seen on this
river. Ho is satisfied that his boats can
make th" trips without vny difficulty wliat
ever, and that if a party of tourists once
jxiss over the route they must adver
tise it far and wide, for its strange, weird
and beautiful scenery.
The Colonel will no here again in atout
three weeks to make all necessary arrange
ments. He is prepared to put on two boats
at oheo and a third In a short time. We are
satisfied that Col Hart means business, and
when he again comes we can give our
readers the assurance that the route wifi he
opened hi good time for the fall and winter
business. Tho route lias long toon a great
desideratum with tourists, especially, and
will open up an entirely new and attractive
line or travel
With a lioifer just coming to milk the
period of flow should be made as long as
{xosublo or dostruhle by feeling especially to
that end, anil when onco established nil] be
very likely to bo continued. When this is
not done it often recede* in a short milker,
and is a reason why there are so many of
that clasa
SNAKE LIZARD.
A Reptile and an Egg Partaking of a
Banquet Once in Six Weeks.
From, the Denver Tribune-Republican.
A great black rattlesnake was moving
leisurely about in his cage in a Larimer
street shop window in Denver, when a re
porter jmused to look at the reptile for the
space of a few minutes. A bright patch of
sunlight was flooding the window, and in
this the snake seemed to be reveling; taking
his holiday, as it were, for it takes a consid
erable incentive to make a snake move on a
cloudy day. The rattlesnake had his house
all to himself, at least there were no other
snakes present at the entertainment, but
away in one corner of the cage, *cowering
and quivering in the most agonizing fear,
sat a half grown rat, with his feet, curled
up under him, his long slender tail fairly
lashed into an interrogation point with
excitement, and his bright little black eves
snapping as if they would pop out of his
head with horror. The rattlesnake moved
leisurely along, first to one side of tlie cage
and then to the other, sometime turning his
body slowly around near the corner where
the rat was, and sometimes crawling to the
opposite end of the cage, but always keeping
Ins glittering eyes on the rat., which poor
little animal seemed utterly transfixed with
horror. Sometimes the snake would crawl
up to the very front of the cage, rubbing
the length of his body along the bars, stick
ing out his tongue, and evidently drinking
in the sunshine which fell direct upon him.
In the meantime a crowd had congregated
outside the window and were curiously
watching the movements of the rattlesnake,
whom they momentarily expected to pounce
upon the terrified rat and devour it, but the
snake took his own time. It way evidently
no common rattlesnake, but a genuine
monarch of its kind, who took life on an
easy plan and never hurried about any
thing.
11l an adjoining cage lay a great red
lizard, dozing in the sun on the gravelly lied
prepared for his comfort. This creature was
fat and broad and torpid. It wns ulso vl
and black alternately in the mast artistic
fashion, as if the deft fingers of some young
lady skilled in the art of fancy work had
beaded him to the queen’s taste. This lizard
has a history. It was brought to the News
office five years ago and presented to the
manager, Sir. Arkins, but Mr. Arkins, not
feeling greatly drawn toward it, hud given
strict orders that it should lie
hastily presented, with his com
pliments, to the Larimer street
establishment. It is said that a message had
early come from the News office to this
effect: “Why don’t yon hurrv up and take
the nasty beast, away f” But this is only a
bit of history, and has little to do with the
story in question, save that, the lizard was
soon roused from its slumbers by lieing
sharply prodded with a stick, inasmuch as
it was time for him to dine. Having, there
fore, the vision of a feast in its mind, it
lifted its fat red Ixirly, oiiened its eyes and
awaited developments. In the meantime
the rattlesnake was moving slowly about liis
cage, and the timorous rut was crouching
closer and closer to the bars. When the
lizard awoke, the people turned their at
tention to it, and the rattlesnake, attracted
by the sound of footsteps, took its eyes off
the rat for the time being and fastened them
intently upon its next floor neighbor. At
that juncture the door of the lizard's cage
was quickly ojienisi and an egg wus thrown
upon the gravelly carpet of his habitation.
It ri*tosd there but a moment.
The fat, lazy red creature became possessed
with momentary energy. Moving quickly
to where the egg lay, it seized upon it like
some rapacious monster devouring his prey,
ami, taking it in its mouth, attempted to
swallow it down at a gulp. But the effort
was too great. The lizard’s mouth was not
large enough. The creature gasped and
gurgled, ami finally spat the egg out again
upon the gravel. Then rage seemed to
inspire the lizard. He rolled his fat body
angerily upon the egg, broke it in two
pieces and quickly devoured it one piece at
a time. This operation quickly comploted,
his lizardship lay down to rest again, and
the attention of tile crowd was quickly at
tracted to the neighboring cage, where the
rattlesnake was lieginning to move rapidly
ill the direction of its prey. It was a plain
case. The snake had tormented and tanta
lized the rat until tiring of the sport it had
turned for a moment to watch the fat, red
lizard feasting on the egg, and the sight had
evidently increased its own greedy nungor,
for making one swift advance upon the rat
he killed and swallowed it so quickly that
not one of the spectators could have ex
plained how it was done. As the snake
swallowed the rat the animal could be seen
slipping along the length of tho reptilo’s
body with remarkable distinctness. A few
more gull* and all was over. His snakt>ship
then surfeited with tho rat on which he had
dined, soon flung itself on the cloth lining
of the stage which composes its couch, and
had soon sunk away into sleep. Doubtless
sleep brought to it many visions of feasting
'time, many fields fairly paved with gigantic
rats which it became the privilege to 'all
upon and devour. It was the first Hi the
lizard had partaken of food for six tv. i.,
The proprietor of the establishm m id
that they never ate oftoner. and l bat
rattlesnakes could never be induced to oat
frogs. If the rat hail lieen thrown into the
cage dead the rattlesnake would have crawled
over its body for the space of a year’s time
without eating it, but it is tho appearance
of life in these smaller and more helpless
animals which seem to provoke the cruel
dcßire of the rattlesnake. It is said that tho
rattles are designed by nature for tho pur
pose of imitating tho sound of insects, there
by luring hapless birds into the toils of the
snakes. A bird singing on the branch of a
tree heares a chirping sound which it im
agines emanates from tho throat of some
fat and juicy tmg, quickly descends among
u thick growth of grasses, and never knows
more, for it is at ollco seized upon and
devoured by the reptile which has been
lying in wait for it, perhaps for a day. This
is one of a rattlesnake’s sly tricks not usually
known to the public. It is said, also, that
there is no such thing as snake charming.
Anybody may be a snake charmer who has
sufficient oourage to keep his eye colly fixed
on the bright orbs of the reptile, and to prod
it vigorously with a stick. In this way the
snake may he irrated almost to death" and
will never attempt to bite anything except
the stick. It has long since been ascertained,
by those who deal in snakes, that a pro
fessional snake charmer never buys a snako
until he has learned that it is absolutely free
from poison. The rattlesnakes they use have
their poison fang extracted, and other
varieties of snakes arc many of them harm
less. In this way wonderful feats are per
formed by so-called snake charmers in
public. It is a curious scientific fact that
all the elements of the poison found in a
rattlesnake are inherent in the common
Irish jsitoto. A teaspoon upon being forced
into a rattlesnake’s mouth oomes out brimful
of the poison ) dreaded by man,
Slang in Texas.
From the Dallas News.
Yesterday afternoon a well-known gen
tleman in this city was discussing with a
News representative the prevalence of slang
in the country.
“Just to show you how almost universal
it is becoming we will tost it right bero. It
is raining, and we will stand in this door,
and to every person of your acquaintance
who passe* by you will put this question:
“Isn’t this rain gloriousr’ and note their
answers.
The pair stood in the door, the gentleman,
watch In hand, and the News representative
with note book and pencil ready. Thirty
five gentlemen passed by, to whom the
query was put. Thirty-one of them replied,
"You bet. One sain: “I should smile;’’
two said, “She is getting there with both
feet,” and the other remarked, “Go long,
Liza Jane.”
There were others who later went scud
ding by. One responded, "I should snicker
to remark.” Another one smiled broadly,
“Young ducks ain’t a circumstance.” A
third caroled. “Bet your sweet life," and tho
fourth. lispoJ bewitchiugly, “If any lx sly
asks you, tell ’em you don't ,J;now. Tho
gentleman standing with the reporter said:
“Well that ‘‘frWjVyt Ifni frout
namo it wu. Lawks”
LOTTERY.
I \NPRECEDENTED ATTRACTION'! *
v Over a Million Distributed.
CAPITAL PRIZE, $300,000,
LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY COMPANY.
Incorporated by the Legislature in 1868 for
Educational and Charitable purposes, and its
franchise made a part of the present State con
stitution, in 1879, by an overwhelming popular
vote.
llm <rmi! Single dumber Drawing* take
{>lncc monthly, and the ttem!-Annual Draw
nuN regularly every hU month* (June and
December).
“WV do hereby certify that we supervise th
arrangements for ali the Monthly and Semi-
Annual Drawings of the Louisiana State Lot
tery Company , and in /wraon manage and con
trol the Drawings themselves. , and that the same
are condut'ted with honesty , fairness , and in
good faith toward all parties , and we authorize
the Company to use this certificate, with fac
similes of our signatures attached , in its adusr
tisemenU."
Commissioners.
HV the undersigned Ranks and Banker* will
pay all Prizes drawn in the I-ouisiana State lot
teries which maybe presented at our counters.
J. H OGLESBY, Pres. Louisiana Nat'l Bank.
PIERRE LANAUX, Pres. State Nat’l Bank.
A. BALDWIN, Pres. New Orleans Nat’l Bank.
CARL KOHN, Pres. Union National Bank.
GRAND SEMI-ANNUAL DRAWING
In the Academy of Music, New Orleans,
TUESDAY. June 14. 1887.
Capital Prize, $300,000.
100,000 Tickets at Twenty Dollars each. Halve*
$lO, Quarters $5, Tenths $2, Twentieths sl.
LIST or PRIZES.
1 PRIZE OF SBOO,OOO is sßoo,oo®
1 PRIZE OF 100,000 is 100,000
1 PRIZE OF 60,000 is 60,000
1 PRIZE OF 25,000 is 25,000
3 PHIZES OF 10,000 are 20,000
5 PRIZES OF a,OOO are 35,000
SB PRIZES OF 1,000 are 25.000
100 PRIZES OF 800 ore 60,000
300 PRIZES OF 800 are 60,000
800 FRIZES OF 300 are 100,000
APPROXIMATION PHIZES.
100 Prizes of S6OO approximating to
SBOO,OOO Prize are 80.000
100 Prise* of s;iuo approximating to
SIOO,OOO Prize are 30,000
100 Prizes of S2OO approximating to
SBO,OOO Prize are 30,000
TXLMINAL PRIZKr,.
1,000 Prizes of SIOO decided l>y .$300,000
Prize are 100,000
1,000 Prize* of SIOO decided by.. .SIOO,OOO
Prize uru 100,000
8,186 Prizes, amounting to $1,055,000
For clubs rates or any further Information
apply to the undersigned. Your handwriting
must he distinct ana Signature plain. More
rapid return mail delivery will be assured by
your enclosing an envelope bearing your full ad
dress.
Rend POSTAL ’VOTES, Expanse Money Or
ders, or New York Exchange iu'ordinary letter.
Currency by Express (at our expense) ad
dressed M. A. DAUPHIN.
Sew Orleans, U.
or M. A. DAUPHIN,
Washington, D. V.
Address Registered Letters to
NEW ORLEANS NATIONAL B ANK,
New Orleans, La,
RPMP MR CD That the presence of Oen
nC. IVi C. IVI DC. n [Jeauregard aud
Early, who are in charge of the drawings. Is a
guarantee of absolute fairness and integrity,
that the chances are nil equal, and that no ona
can poseibly divine what number will draw a
ITize.
REMEMBER that the payment of all Prize*
is GUARANTEED BV FOUR NATIONAL
HANKS of New Orleans, and the Tickets are
signed by the President of an Institution, whose
chartered rights are recognized in the highest
Courts; therefore, beware of any imitations or
anonymous schemes.
railroads]
South Honda Railroad.
Central Stand ax'd Time.
ON and after MONDAY, May 38d, lfW, train*
will arrive and leave as follows:
♦Daily. + Daily except Sundays, {Dally ex
cept Mondays.
LIMITED WEST INDIA FART MAIL
Leave Jacksonville (J., T and K W.) *12:30 p
m, Sanford 4:40 p m; arrive Tampa 3:00 p m.
Returning leave Tampa 8:00 pm, Sanford
1:00 am; arrive Jacksonville (J., T. ami K W.)
6:30 a m.
WAY TRAINS.
Leave Hanford for Tampa and way
stations t,l 8:40 a ttt
Arrive at Tampa tj 1:36 pm
Returning leave Tampa at +J 9:00 a m
Arrive at Sanford tl 2:00 pm
Leave Sanford for Kissim
mee and way station* at. tl0:20 am and 5:00 pm
Arrive at Kissimmee ut t 1:30 pm and 7:05 pm
Returning leave Kissimmee +s:ooamand2:lßp m
Arrive at Sanford tß:2oamands:Bspm
tJSteamboat Exprees.
BARTOW BRANCH.
Lv Bartow Junction.. .tl 1: Ift a m and * 7:40 p m
Ar Bartow 12:55 p m and B:4opm
Returning I.v Bartow. ,t f) :|0 a m and * 8:00 p in
Ar Bartow Junction... 10:40 am and 7:10 pm
PEMBERTON FERftY BRANCH.
Operated by the South Floriila Railroad.
•Leave Bartow for Pemberton Ferry
and way stations at 7:15 a m
Arrive at Pemberton Ferry at 9:80 a m
• Returnlng leave Pemberton Ferry at 5:00 pm
Arrive at Bartow at 8:00 p m
•Leave Pemberton Ferry 7:0) a iu
Arrive Bartow 11:20 a iu
• Leave Bartow 12:40 p m
Arrive Pemberton Ferry..., 4:50 p nj
SANFORD AND INDIAN RIVER R. H.
Leave Sanford for Lake Charm and
way stations 5:50 pm
Arrive lake Charm 7:16 p ra
Returning—
Leave Lake Charm 6:30 a m
Arrives at Sanford 8:00 a in
SPECIAL CONNECTIONS.
Connects at Sanford with the Sanford and
Indian River Railroad for Oviedo and point* on
lake Jesup. with the People's Una and Doßary
Line of steamers, amt J. T. and K. W. Ry. for
Jacksonville and all intermediate points on the
St. John's river, and with steamers for Indian
river and the Upper St. John's.
At Kissimmee with steamers for Fort* Myers
and Bussinger andjpointa on Kisaimmee river.
At Pemberton Ferry with Florida Southern
Railway for all points North and West, and at
Bartow with the Florida Southern Railway for
Fort Meotle and points South.
STEAMSHIP CONNECTIONS.
Connects at Tampa with steamer “Margaret"
for Palma Sola. Braktontown, Palmetto, Mana
tee and all [stints on Hillsborough and Tampa
Bays.
Also, with the elegant mail steamships "Mas
onite" and "Olivette,” of the plant Steamship
Cos., for Key West anil Havana.
Through tickets sold at all regular stations to
points North, East and West.
Baggage c heeked through.
Passengers for Havana can leave Sanford on
Limited West India Fast Mall train at 4:40 p tn
Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, connecting
same evening with steamer at Tampa.
WILBUR McCOY,
(Jeneral Freight and Ticket Agent.
MEDICAL.
PENNYROYAL PILLS.
■CHICHESTER'S ENGLISH."
The Original and Only (srnulne.
Safe and always Reliable. Beware of worthleaa
Imitations. Indis[>eiißable to LADIES. Ask
your Druggist for "I bichester’a English" and
take no other, or Inclose 4e. (stamp) to us for
particulars in letter by return inn 11. NAME
PAPER. I hleiieater f'hrmlral Cos.,
2313 Madison Square, Phllada, Pa.
hold by Drug gists etrry where. Ask for “I'hl-
Chester's English" Pennyroyal Pills. Taka
no other.
kk \ FRIEND in need Is a Mend Indeed." if
iV you have a friend send him or her the
SAVANNAH WEEKLY NEWS; It only coots
Id 25 fur a vear
11