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■j\ oft 1) Geofgiai], PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY % —AT— BELIZTO>r, GA.. JiY JOI lx BL ATS. Terms— sl.ol) per annum ; 50 cents for six months; 25cents for three months. I urties yiay from Bellton are requested to send their names, with such amounts of money as they can spare, from 2cc. to sl. . Poetical Selections. PAY THE PRLXTEB. When the cold storm howls round the »oor. And you by the light of taper, Sit cosily by the evening tire, Enjoying the last jiaper, Just think of him whose work thus helps To wear away the winter, And put this query to yourself— Have 1 payed the printer? From east and west, from north and south. From lands beyond the water, He weekly brings you lots of news, hrorn every nook and quarter; No slave on earth toils more than he Through summer’s heat and winter* How can you-fore moment, then, ' Neglect to pay the printer? Your other bills you promptly pay. Wherever you do go, sir; ’ The butcher for his meat is paid, For sundries is the grocer: The Vdlcr uud the shoemaker, The hatter and the Vinter, All get their pay, then why’neglect du settle with thy printer? THE RICH 51 AN AND THE BEGGAR. A beggar stood at the rich man’s door— I’m homeless and friendless, and faint and poor,” Bai<l the beggar boy, as the tear-drop rolled Down Ids thin cheek, blanched with want and cold. “Oh! give me a crust from your board to-day, To help the beggar boy on his way?” “Not a crush not a crust,” the rich man said, “ Be off, anerwork for your bread.” The rich man went to the parish church, Ilis face grew grave as he trod the porch, And the thronging poor, and untaught mass, Drew back to let the rich man p.;-s. The *•:•¥)-e b ran; the choral hymn Ar- and sv vll-d thr •ugh the long aisles dim; 'l' - ii th-- riu'i man knelt, and th- words he said W ere: “Give us this daj our daily «»u».adr* Stories and Sketches. MAUD'S LOVE STORY. A long, pieasing July day was come to its sunsetting, ami the fervent heat that crowned the sunshiny hours since early morning was giving way to a soft westerly breeze that_stirred through the trees, and lifted the short waves of hair oil Maud Templeton’s sweet, upturned face as she turned ami looked wistfully, thoughtfully in Neal Howard s eyes, timt were holding an expression of half-frowniug, half-appealing displeas ure. “ I would not have believed it of you, Maud. 1 have been so happy, so per fectly content and rested in your love for me! J have been so impatient tor the tin>» when our engagement should termi nate in marriage; ami here now, you coolly, candy te ll me that, unless 1 have better prospects you think it prudent to indefinitely prolong our engagement.” He spoke sternly, eagerly, and he bent his hand.-.onie head toward her in away lie had of doing whenever he was es pecially in earnest. She listened, her sweet, grave eyes looking at him patiently. “ You would see I am right, if you only would see, Neal. As it is, you only make < notigh to take care yourself; then how would it be if you were saddled with the extra expense of a wife? As weare, J am well enough cared for, and we can be very happy as lovers—only until 1 can see my way clear to come to you, dear. Do you understand?” Such a loving, appealing look as she gave him! But he curled his lips haughtily. “Do I understand? Perfectly! Poor people have no right to be happy, and you don’t care much fora poor husband.” “ Oh, Neal! don’t be so harsh! You know—you know I love you; and no other one in all this world, rich or poor, will ever hear me tell him so!” He was sufficiently convinced by her argument to be angry at its correctness; bo he shrugged his shoulders, as if in sarcastic unbelief. “You prove your words accurately. Women who love generally desire not to prolong their engagement. Or perhaps you have some practical suggestion to oiler.” A little faint, deprecating blush bloomed on Maud s cheeks. “ I did mean to tell you of a chance for you, Neal; but you are so sarcastic end—cross.” “ Not at all! Cannot a fellow ever be in earnest? What is it, Maud.” She sent a shy, anxious glance at his fa co. “It is the foremanship in the Man hattan mills, Neal, and the salary—” Mr. Neal Howard's eyes flashed out his disdain, and he compressed his hand some lips a second, then interrupted her. “ You seem to forget that I at least lav claim to the position of a gentleman, Maud! A foreman in a factory ? Thank you! I prefer my present position as a tutor, even at the risk of your displeas ure.” She colored deeply; and yet the look she gave him was eloquent with love and womanly sweetness. “ I want you to do just as you think best, Neal. I only mean that I think a man is bound to do the very best he can for himself.” “So he is; but not at the sacrifice of his self-respect. A foreman in a factory! Maud, I'm astonished'” “Very well, then, dear; consider I have said nothing to annoy to you. As I said at the beginning, I will patiently, cheerfully wait until—” He interrupted her hotly. “ There shall be no waiting! You do not love me: you mean to rid yourself of me as gracefully as only a woman can do. Yon are free—you will not be an noyed by having to wait for me!” And hi- plunged away into the little woody dell near where they stood, and bis quick, angry footsteps went crash ing through underbrush and over twigs, The North Georgian. i VOL. 11. as .Maud stood where he had left her, her face pale and dazed, then pitifully flushing as the hot tears rushed to her eyes. “ He is angry with me, ami I meant so well! He will come back—l know ho , will conic back, when his anger cools, I and admit that I Was right, or at least innocent of offense.” And she went slowly back to the. farm house, the scarlet stain fading from her face. “Mr. Courtenay! ” Neal Howard uttered the name in a surprised sort of way, as, leaping over a . thick, low hedge, ho came upon Fred Courtenay and his sketching parapher nalia under the shade of a tree. The handsome young artist lifted a pair of black eyes, that were just a little deprecating in their smiling expression. “ I’m sorry to have been so stupidly near at hand, Howard; but what could I do? I’m sorry, pon my word, that I was an eavesdropper, and yet, How ard—” Mr. Courtenay hesitated and looked thoughtful. Neal frowned. Be wasn’t pleased to know that this stylish city gentleman was a perforce confident of his and Maud’s little lovers’ tiff. “ I tell you what I was thinking—what struck me when 1 heard you speak. Let me do you a favor, to atone, if I can, for being a third party to your little confer ence.” Howard’s face was not cleared even as he intimated his willingness to know ! what the “ favor ” was that Ferdinand I Courtenay could do him. “From what I heard, Howard, I take it that you would not refuse a chance—a fair good chance—to make a nite little pile of money. I can give you a chance; | 1 would be glad to give you a position j that has been offered to me, and now ‘ open, waiting my answer, which, how i ever, must be at once.” He was evidently in simple earnest, and Howard was suddenly interested “ Give me a chance, Courtenay I I’d go to Nova Zembla if I could come home rich.” Courtenay smiled as he took a letter from his pocket. “It’s almost as bad as going to Nova Zembla; in fact, is quite as far in an op posite direction—further possibly. But there’s a good chance to make money, as the firm who have written this letter specifically say. They offer a position in South Africa, at Port Elizabeth —quite a civilized place—to look after their in terests there—dealers and importers o£ ostrich feathers —a big salary and a com mission.” “Why don t you accept the offer? Would you not like to make your for ! tunc?” Courtenay laughed. “ I don’t care to go so far south; I am not enough of a salamander. Besides, I am in a fairway to do better at home with my pictures.” Howard frowned, puzzled and thought ful. “And you actually give mo the chance? Will the firm take me in your stead?” ‘ There’s not. a doubt of it, if I recom mend you. Will you accept? There's not enough time to do more than to de cide. The ship sails to-night at eleven o’clock from New York, and you’ve only time to pack a trunk and catch a train to the city. Howard’s face suddenly flushed ex citedly. “ Yes, I’ll do it! Write me, the neces sary introduction, and J will write a line I of explanation and farewell to Maude Templeton, for you to kindly deliver I after I’m off. I’ll be ready in no time; i and, Courtenay, I thank you most heart ily for your kindness.” lie shook the artist’s aristocratic white, hand eagerly. .“All right old fellow! Come, back rich and be happy ever after. Write your note, and I’ll write to Finch & Wing by yoff.” So, all on the, hot impulse of the mo ment, Neal Howard went abroad, leav ing a letter, half proud, and with a pa | thetic undertone of love in every word, for the one girl he really and truly cared for above all the world. For Ferdinand Courtenay to deliver. And while Neal Howard was walking the deck of the ship at midnight, ana Maud Templeton was sleeping and dreaming of the morrow, when her lover would come back to her, Mr. Cour tenay was lying on his lounge in the moonlight, with the ashes of Neal How ard’s farewell to Maud on the empty hearth. “And now I shall have everything my own way. Fair Maud will be comforted in due season for what she shall believe is her lover’s defection, and 1 will bo the comforter? If it doesn’t end as I prophesy—in Maud’s rnarryingrnc then I am not so shrewd as I flatter myself I am. Port Elizabeth! Whew! Well, he’s welcome to all he can make, for me. I prefer the beautiful Maud and a tem perate zone I ” A year had gone by, and away off, down by the Cape of Good Hope, Neal Howard was wondering what in the world was the reason he had never re ceived an answer from Maud to the lit tle farewell letter he left for Mr. Courte nay to deliver. He had found his position not an un pleasant one, and the climate did not especially disagree with him. His sur roundings were" very delightful, his bus iness hours short, and he found himself making money by the handful: and if only Maud had answered his letter he i would have been almost perfectly con | tent. | But Maud did not answer bis letter, I for the very good reason that she never ' received it. And in the weeks that fol lowed her recreant lover’s departure, -Mr. Courtenay was her comforter, be i cause to him only Neal had confided his | intentions. BELLTON. BANKS COUNTY, GA„ DECEMBER 11. 1879. And Ferdinand Courtenay made the most of his opportunity—so much that people round about nodded their wise heads, and said that Maud was readily ’ consoled for Neal’s defection. Os course, among the occasional letters that friends sent to Africa, the news was more than once mentioned that Maud and Mr. Courtenay were on the most intimate terms, and Neal’s mother, in one letter, actually announced the gossip of their engagement. Ferdinand Courtenay proposed to Maud and was promptly rejected, and he wentaway, disgusted and disappointed and chagrined at his ill-luck; while Maud, whose hopes were gradually dying, . whose spirits were slowly leaving her— and leaving her depressed and silent— went on her lonely way, patiently as she might for the never-ceasing pain at her true, loving, wounded heart. Gut at Port Elizabeth, Neal Howard was leading his lonely, unloved life, trying to put the sweet memories out of his head and heart, after he had written almost savagely to those who had volun i leered their information of Maud, never to mention her name or Courtenay’s again. And so, widely divided, these two lived another year and another, he im agining Maud’s happiness as the wife— doubless long ago -of the man she loved; and Maud feeling sure that Neal had found his happiness in the distant coun try to which he had gone. Until one day—one perfect October day—Maud had gone out for a little walk, the way she always went, because it was the way Neal and she had been accustomed to go. It lead past the village post-office, where for many weary times, whenever the papers announced the arrival of the foreign mails, Maud had asked if there was anything for her, until her sweet, pale, tired face had made the post-mis tress’ heart ache and tears come to her eyes. To-day, Maud was in no mood to in quire. Why should she have been, when for months, and months, she had been slowly learning her lesson? And so she was walking past, when, like an inspiration, it came to her that she would inquire just this once more— just this once, because such a swift strange yearning Mad come over her. And so she lifted her lovely, pale face to Mrs. Morrison, standing inside her office window “1 dare say I am very foolish, but per haps there is something for me irftei all?” And, instead of the grave, pitiful shake of Mrs. Morrison’s white-capped head and the gentle, sympathetic, “No. dear, not this time,” Maud’s heart stood still in almost suffocating emotion to see a smile broaden on the kind old face. “ Well Maud, I shouldn’t wonder if there was something at last. Whal’d you say to the biggest letter from for eign parts that ever came through this office, eh ? Come in back, dear, and get it!” To her dying day, Maud will remem ber just how she felt as Mrs. Morrison spoke. Then she managed to force her trembling limbs to carry her into the little back office, and there— Neal Howard sprang to meet her and catch her in his arms, and kiss her over and over, and explain in eager, passion ate words, what a terrible mistake there had been. Isn’t the story told? The Dark Continent. [Toledo Blade.] Africa, from being an unknown land full of dark, impenetrable mysteries, a land whose glory lay entirely in the past, whose wonderful pyramids, which spoke so eloquently of a race gone forever, con stituted its chief interest in the eyes of the world, is fast becoming of great com mercial importance. The travelers who have, of late years, penetrated Central Africa, have found it a region of great wealth, with a vast population of from 200,000,000 to 400,000,000. The climate of the high regions is healthy, very dif ferent from what has been imagined in the past, when the only idea had was that obtained from the low, marshy lands upon the seacoast. The soil is adapted for the cultivation of most of the useful plants grown in the southern part of our own country. The mineral wealth is great, but it needs intelligent ' development by means of men and j machinery, such as are employed in I other and better known regions. ! England has become thoroughly awake to the advantages of obtaining a foot hold and influence among the people of Africa, uncivilized as they are. In her ■ present depressed financial condition, it i is absolutely necessary that she should i find new lands to conquer in trade and here is her golden opportunity. Already her steamers are plying upon the Zam bezi, and she contemplates placing them upon the Niger. The plan of building a railway five hundred miles long from the seacoast to the interior costing $50,000,- I 000 is under consideration in London, 1 and is most favorably regarded. It is I the hope of Great Britain that the future development of this vast country, now ! bo rapidly becoming known by the push : and courage of different explorers,—and the consequent civilization of its people, ' will open and maintain vast commercial interests that will restore the manu- - factoring prosperity of England, and give her again that pre-eminence of i which she has so long proudly boasted. ; J Cuthbert County, Ga., boasts of a I beautiful cave with several large chain-■ i ber.s abounding in brilliant stalactites I and a stream of crystal water flowing ! ! through it. By candle-light the resem- 1 ' blance of its vast chambers, with their hundreds of stalacties, to agigantic'forest ■ ’ of oul; and cedar trees, interpersed with ( labyrintliiun walks, renders the place at i once dazzling and beautiful. Tnv tn, jus Ti c i:, lib i: it r r _ • “Is Life Worth Living P’ [J. G. Holland in Scribner for November. | Mr. Curtis once asked Mr. Greeley, ia response to a similar question put him by the great editor, “How do you know, Mr. Greeley, when you have suc ceeded in a public address?” Mr. Gree ley, not averse to the perpetration of a joke at his own expense, replied: “When more stay in than go out.” Mr. Mul lock's famous question, answered by himself in a weak way. and repeated by Professor Mivart, and answered in a stronger way, is practically voted on every -lay, by the. entire human race, and deciiied in the affirmative. “More stay in than go out,” for reasons very much less important than those consid ered by Mr. Mullock and Professor Miv art. There are great multitudes of men who possess neither the Roman Catholic faith nor rightness of life nor love, who yet live out their lives—men who are open to no high considerations, such as would have weight with the Mullocks ami Jlivarts. There is a great pleasure iti conscious being. So universal is this that, when a man occasionally takes his life, it is con sidered by those whom he leaves be hind him as preumptive proof that he is insane. We say of a man who de signedly ends his life that he is not in his right mind. One of the most pathetic things about death is the bidding good bye ton body that has been the nurs ery and home of the spirit which it has charmed through the ministry of so many senses. Men find their pay for living in vari ous ways. Hope may lie to them, but they always believe her, nevertheless. The better things to come of which she tells all men, become indeed, the sulr stance of the. things desired; that is, expectation is a constant joy and in spiration. The pay for this day’s trouble and toil is in the reward which is ex pected to-morrow. That reward may never come, but the hope remains; and so long as that lives, it pays to live. It pays some men to live, that they may make money, and command the. power that money brings. To what enormous toils and sacrifices the lore of money urge a great multitude of men! The judgment of these men as to whether life is worth living is not to betaken at life's close, when they sum up their pos- Bi ssions and what they have cost, but while they are living and acting. A man whose life is exhausted may well con eh'-le that that what he has won is van ity; but it was not vanity to him while he, was winning it, and, in the. full pos session of his powers, he believed that life was worth living. * * * If this be true—that character and duty and Jove are better than any success without them—then there is no needs to say that life is not worth living. But the people who do not succeed, who are unloved, who live lives of pain and want and weakness—what is there for these? A chance for conscious nobility of character and life; ami if this lie not enough, as it rarely is, a faith, not in a great church, but in a good (foil, and an immortality that will right the wrongs mid heal the evils of the present life, and round, into completeness and sym metry it imperfections and deformities, It is not foolish, aft r nil, to raise tig question of su< < e.ssor failure in treatiig a life th at is only germinal or fractional Mechanical Chess Players. Mr. Richard A. Proctor contributes an interesting article to the Belgravia Magazine on mechanical players. He denies the possibility, on scientific princi ples, of constructing an automaton capa ble of making the complicated moves required in a game of chess. It is mechanically possible, humanly impos sible. No man’s life is king enough to adapt the machinery to the innumerable variations required. He proves conclu sively, we imagine, for most readers, that the famous automaton of De Kem pelcu, which attracted so much attention in this country under M. Maelzel, con tained a living player. One amusing proof which he gives we have never Been on record before. A conjuror had been performing his tricks in a German town with great success and profit to his purse, when the arrival of the automaton drew of!' his audience to a more powerful attraction. He went to witness the performance of his rivals, and was satisiied from his own methods of working that the chest of the automa ton concealed a cunning conjuror. A simple test was suggested to his shrewd ness, and at once applied, with success. He raised the cry of fire, which wag caught up by one or two of his comrades in the secret. The alarmed spectators began to scatter, and curiously enough the automaton shared the alarm, and began to move convulsively, tottering about as if mad. The conjuror was avenged. Mr. Proctor censures sharply the de ceptions of Kempeleu and Maelzel, and commends the frankness of the inventor of Mephisto, another mechanical player, now exhibiting in Europe. This inven tor makes no claim that his machine works automatically. He confesses that its movements are guided by human brains and hands, but the method of ac tion is as mysterious as in the old automaton, for the new is too small to hold a living man. Two grammarians were wrangling the other day, one contending that it was only proper to say, “My wages is high,” while the other noisily insisted that the correct thing was, “Aly wages are high.” Finally they stopped a day laborer and submitted the question to him. “Which do you say, ‘Your wages is high,’ ot ‘Your wages are high?’” “Oh, ofl'wid yer nonsense,” he said, resuming his pick. “Yer naythur ov ye right—-me wages is low, bad luck to it.” Aleut Marriage Customs. [Alaska Letter in N. Y. Herald.] Two couple were made happy. The grooms came down from St. Paul's Island on the steamer with the intention of marrying somebody or other. They seemed indifferent as to who their wives were to be, and expressed their content to wait until.some elderly match-making dame of the village picked out brides for them. The rule being, under the Russian Church system, to extend the forbidden degrees of kindred very far in the direction of cousinship, and as the people of this place seem to be closely related to those of the neighboring set tlements, it is difficult sometimes for a young man aspiring to matrimony to find a woman not in some distant way re lated to him. The services of some old lady who keeps the run of relationships are called in, and she selects an eligible candidate for better-halfship out of the number of disposable females in the vil lage. The man rarely objects to the selection thus made, and, as in this case, does not know who his wifeis to be until he meets her at the altar. “ Who are you going to marry I” we ask the prospective husband. “ 1 don’t know,” he replies. “ I havs not seen the woman yet.” This happy-go-luclcy style of marrying is the rule among these people, and lain informed that divorce lawyers have no field here at all because of dissatisfaction ari ing regarding the bargains made. Th • ceremony was according to the Rus sian Greek ritual. Candles and crowns were used. The ceremony was long, but as the interested couples did not appear to be out of humor with it we hand no Tight to object. Later in the evening Dr. Ambler and I took a walk along the beach and met one of the couples enjoy ing a honeymoon walk under the light of the setting sun. We saluted them cordially. The man looked sheepish enough, but the bride smirked as much as the circumstances warranted. Untimely People. [Burlington Hawkeye.] Yesterday morning 1 saw a man go out of a car, and shut the door after him. I have traveled very constantly for nearly three years, and this was the first man I ever saw shut the door after him as he went out. He only shut it because I was right behind him, trying to get out, with a valise iu each hand. When I sat down my valise to open the door, I made a few remarks on the general subject of people who- would get up in the night to do the wrong thing at the wrong time; but the man was out on the platform and failed to catch the drift of my remark. I was not sorry for this, because the other passengers seemed to enjoy it quite as well by themselves, and the man who called forth this impromptu address was a for bidding looking man, as big as a hay wagon, ami looked as though he would have banged me through the side of a I box-car if he had heard what I said. I suppose the people who invariably do the wrong things at the wrong time are necessary, but they are awfully un pleasant. Practical Communism. It is related of Mr. John Jacob Astor that in his palmiest days a man called upon him, armed with a revolver. “I am a French Communist,” said he;“l believe in a distribution of property, and I want some of your money or your life. I believe money should be equally di vided.” “ So do I,” said Mr. Astor. “ You are said to be worth ten million dollars,” said the man. “ Well, 1 suppose, that is about the sum,” said Mr. Astor, “Now, how many people are there in the United States?” “ About ten millions, I believe,” said the communist. “Now, how much would that be each? About one dollar?’ sAkcd Mr. Astor. “ Yes, about,” said the Communist. “ There’s your dollar,” said Astor, lay ing down a bill. Impressing a Delicate Fact. Self-repression is one among the many difficult lessons that one can not begin to learn too soon, and which yet must he learned in such delicate portions as not to destroy individuality, t hose children who are cruelly and entirely repressed find themselves as good as ruined for all purposes requiring genial and active energy or alert personality, but those who are never al all repressed are like vicious weeds whose rank growth over tops, chokes out and suffocates every thing.! els<;. B u t it is only by kindly but firm, if very small effort, at the first, and constantly repeated to flic end, that wo keep ourselves in condition that we are able to discover that we are not of such interest to anybody else as we arc to our selves; that, in reality, nobody but the census taker cares whether we. love blue cr not; that while we are painting the portrait of our qualities, the listener is either amused or bored; and that, after all, as vagueness, mist and distance mag nify natural objects, so the less wc say of Ourselves in especial, the larger we loom Ucon the admirer. Poor Pay of Eminent Authors. The pioneers of American literature i were not too liberally rewarded. Edward and Alexander Everett, Bancroft and other leading writers of their day re- I ceived but one dollar a printed page for | their contributions to the North American ; i Review. But then, Milton sold “Paradise | j Lost” at even a less rate. But again | j Shakespeare went in for loot as well as 1 laurels, and although we almost deify him, we think none the less of him for | not allecting to despise money Nofth Published Every Thursday at BELLTON. GFEORGFIA. HATES OF SUBSCRIPTION. One year (52 numbers), $1.00; six months (26 numbers), 50 cents; three months (13 numbers), 25 cents. Office in the Smith building, east of the depot. NO. 50. Clipped Paragraphs. There are 30,000 deaf mutes in the United States, and fifty plaees of wor ship where services are conducted in the sign language. One man asked another why his beard was so brown and his hair so white “ Because,” he replied, “ one is twenty ■ye " ' 'O’ ‘hen the other.” The head of the rattlesnake has been known to inflict a mortal wound after being separated from the body. The head of a turtle will inflict a severe bite under the same circumstances. Russia has more sheep than any other country in Europe, but of late the num ber has declined, as more land is being put under grain crops, and hence a de cline in wool export. married persons in France are not so often criminals as arc unmarried persons. Out of every 100,000 unmarried persons 33 are criminals, but out of every 100,- 000 married persons only 11 are crim inals. It cost an Ishpeming man SBOO to kiss a woman on the streets recently.—Ex change. Served him right, too! Here in Catskill the kissing is done smack on the lips, and all pecuniary consequence* are avoided.— CatekHJ Recorder. N o mother wearing banged hair should preserve her photographs. Twenty years from now if her son should get hold of one he would exclaim: “Oh! why did they put my mother in the House of Correction!”— Detroit Free Press. Indian uprisings aro not always un pleasant to Western settlers. A redskin with a hemp knot around his throat, ascending skywards on a rope thrown over the limb of a tree, the end of which is being pulled by strong arms, is the sort of an Indian uprising relished the most. The Steubenville Herald, contains this startling, but pleasing announcement: “ Watch the credit opposite your name. We want all arrears settled up.” Yes, we’ve been watching it. It says X. We presume you know how much that is. Please forward without delay.” Entomologtcally speaking, the but terfly gets up from his grub and floats through the air with the greatest of ease Physiologically speaking, the boy makes the butter fly by putting it down with his grub, with the greatest of grease. Scientifically considered,both are climato logical. Please pass the butter, my, well bred friend. The Ute Indiana arc a mean, treacher ous lot; but none of them wear theii watchchains dangling from the top out side pocket of their coats, nor part their hair in the middle, nor never pay their subscription to the paper, nor do a whole lot of other things not much pleasanter of contemplation than scalping a woman, or eating a roast bady, witn oyster trim mings. A man read that he should endeavor to draw something useful from every thing he saw, and nobly resolved to profit by the teaching. That night when the moon was shining, he essayed to draw a number of useful cord wood sticks from his neighbor's wood-pile, and got filled bo full of rock-salt out of a gun, that he won’t be able to taste anything fresh for the balance of his natural life. “Why did you weep so in church?” “Oh, it was because of the thoughts evoked by those solemn words, “ Dusf thou art, and unto dust shall thou re turn.” “ You arc an ass—a preferred ass! If you were gold and had to return to dust, you’d lose a hundred per cent, by the operation; but as you are dust, and to dust return, you neither lose or ain anything—it’s a stand-off.” Seeing a servant rushingout of a Lon don house for medical aid, a rascal said: “1 am a doctor,” and obtained access to the room of a sick child. He feigned to minister to him for hours, read prayers by his bedside, and then, descending into the dining-room and taking advantage of the carelessness wrought by theapproach of death, took a good meal, and de camped with all the portable property he could lay hands on. 1 know I’m losing ground, sir,” tear* fully murmured the pale-faced Fresh man, “but it is not my fault, sir. If I were to study on Sunday, as the others rlo, I could keep up with my class, sir— indeed, I could; but I promised mother ne-he-never to work on the Sabbath, and I can’t sir, ne-ne-ver;” and, as his emo tions overpowered him, he pulled out his handkerchief with such vigor that he brought out with it a small flask, three faro-chips, and a euchre-deck; and some how or other the professor took no more stock in that Freshman’s eloquence than if he had been a graven image. Better Than a Shot-Gnn. [Detroit Free Press.] A merchant doing business near thg foot of Jefferson avenue, used to spend about half of his time explaining to callers why ho could not sign petitions, lend small sums, buy books or invest in moonshine enterprises, but that time lias passed, and it now only takes him two minutes to get rid of the most persistent case. Yesterday a man called to sell him a map of Michigan. He had scarcely made known his errand when the merchant put on his hat and Baid: “ Como along and I’ll see about it.” He led the way to a boiler-shop, two blocks distant, wherein a hundred ham mers were pounding at iron, and walk ing to the center of the shop, and into the midst of the deafening racket, he turned to the agent and kindly shouted: “ Now, then, if you know of any reason why I should purchase a map of Michigan, please state them at length.” The man with the maps went right out without attempting to state “ reason, the one,” and the merchant tranquilly returned to bis desk to await the next.