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Cfeofgiari,
PUBLISHED EVERY TbUMDAY AT
BELLTON, Georgia
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
(•’fi’numT ( > 2 “ nmbers X $1.00; six month.
dep®.° e “ th ’ Snlith buUdin «> «*“ «f the
Powerful Ocean Steamships.
Twenty years ago the largest steamer*
known (in this, as in all such comparisons,
neglecting the Great Eastern, which was
a prodigy of engineering skill) did not
reach 350 feet in length, 45 feet in
breadth, 3,500 tons in tonnage, or 4,000
■ horse-power indicated. We have before
us at tliis moment a list of 50 merchant
steamers sailing, in the year 1860, from
Southampton and other southern ports,
which the largest vessels then frequented,
and the list includes but 10 ships of more
than 300 feet in length, none of which
.reached the limits of size and power just
given, and the whole of which belonged
to two companies, viz., the Royal Mail
and the Peninsular and Oriental. At
the present moment we have atloat and
at work the White Star liners, some of
them of 445 feet in length, 45 feet in
breadth, and nearly 5,000 indicated
horse-power; the Inman liners, compris
ing such ships as the City of Berlin, 488
feet by 441 feet broad, and of about the
same steam-power; the Orient, of 445
feet by 46} feet, with engines developing
5,600 horse-power; the Arizona, of about
the same size, with still greater steam
power and speed; and many other
splendid vessels but little inferior to any
of the foregoing. And these grand
steamers—many of which reach the quays
of New York with greater punctuality
than railway trains reach the London
suburbs from Victoria and Charing-cross,
and would reach our quays with equal
punctuality if they could avoid the
abominable sands that bar the Mersey—
are the forerunners of still larger and
more powerful vessels now taking shape
Upon the banks of the Clyde and else
where. The Cnnard steel ship, the
Sei-via, now building by Messrs. Thomp
son, of Glasgow, is 500 feet by 50 feet,
With over 10,000 indicated horse-power,
and will, therefore, doubtless possess a
speed considerably iu advance of that of
the very fastest ship at present afloat in
the mercantile marine. The Inman
steaibship City of Rome, building of iron
at Barrow, will be still larger, having a
length of 546 feet, a breadth of 52 feet, a
gross registered tonnage of 8,000, and a
steam power nearly equal to that of the
Servia. The Guion line is to be increased
by ships of almost equal size and power,
and the Allan line is building others
equal to the finest of the White Star
boats. Notwithstanding the number and
magnitude of the passenger steamers
now running between America and this
country the traffic is so great that it has
only been possible to secure accommoda
tion by arranging passage many weeks,
and even months, iu advance, while the
rapidly increasing population and wealth
of the United States and of Canada make
it certain that the interchange of agricul
tural produces and manufactured goods
between them and ourselves will go on
increasing.— London Times.
American Tobacco.
While I was nt Ferrieres, in Italy, I
heard a comical story from the wife of an
American gentleman who resides in the
neighborhood. It seems tobacco is a
Government monopoly; the raising of
more than a dozen plants by any one
person is strictly prohibited. The gar
dener engaged by my friend had rather
a liking for the plant, and embellished
several of his ornamental flower-beds
with it. So one day the lady was waited
npon by the Commissaire, who informed
her that, as she had transgressed the
rules respecting the cultivation of to
bacco by non-authorized individuals, she
would have to pay a fine of some S3O.
But, fortunately, the Republican Dep
uty from the district was on terms of
great intimacy with the family, and he
offered his services to get them out of the
scrape. He went, therefore, to call on
the local Magistrate, and represented to
him that the offending plants were of
American origin, and, consequently,
were of a kind that were totally valueless
for any other purpose than that of orna
mentation. The dignitary professed him
self as being quite satisfied with the ex
planation, and, in view of the non
existence in commerce of any such an
article os American tobacco, my friend
got off scot free.— Lucy Hooper.
The Quickest Trains in the World.
The pace of the quickest trains in En
gland, says an English paper, is greater
by ten miles an hour than that of the
quickest trains of any other country. In
Great Britain the average velocity of the
express is fifty miles an hour. In Bel
gium it never exceeds forty-one miles an
hour ; between Paris and Bordeaux it is
thirty-nine and a half miles an hour. In
Russia and in some parts of Switzerland
the rate is twenty-seven miles an hour.
Per contra, in England railway travel
ing is attended with more risk than m
any other country in the world. Yet
even thus the penis of the steam loco
motive are much exaggerated, for a
French statistician, after a very labori
ous examination of the deaths occurring
from railway accidents over the surface
of the whole earth, states the result of
his rm nation thus :“If a person were
to live continually in a railway carriage,
and spend all his time in railway travel
ing, the chances in favor of his dying
from railroad accident would not occur
until he was 960 years old.”
In Paris, children's parties are preten
tious affairs. The decorations and toilets
are made as prqminent features and as
elaborate as among older society followers.
At one of the children’s balls was a child
of eleven decked in thousands of dollars
worth of diamonds, and a toilet of lace
worth six hundred dollars, with a gossa
mer fan mounted in turquoise and pearls.
Where all should be joy, life and light
in this youthful crowd, there are the
same rivalries, heart-burnings and en
vious feelings that embitter and spoil the
pleasure of older hearts, . _
The North Georgian.
VOL. 111.
HER 11« T EETTER.
■Y LADY LINDSAY. y
*Tii but a line, a hurried scrawl,
An<l little seem th? Words to say.
Yet hold me in tbi all s
“ You quarreled with me yesterday;
To-morraw you’ll be sad.”
Aye, “ you’ll be sad ” the words are few,
And yet tbev bierce my soul with pain;
Ave, “ you’ll be sad,” the words are true;
Tney haunt me with prophetic strain:
“ To-morrow you'll be sad.”
We quarreled, and for what T a word,
A foolish speech that jarred the ear.
And tbqs in wrath our pulses stirr’di
Then came her letter : “ Dear, my dear,
To-morrow you’ll be sad.”
Few words! half mirth, and half regiet,
The last her hand should ever write—
Sad words ! learned long ago, and yet
Fresh with new pain to ear and wght:
“ To-inorruw you'll be sad _ _
In the Palace of Truth.
Richard Turner, Esq., a lawyer, let us
lope of future fame, returning home one
light in an unenviably bad humor, found
i certain dainty little note awaiting him
sn his mautlepiece. It had just come,
his landlady said, aud slowly tearing
open the envelope, Dick read as follows:
My Dear Mb. Tubrer: —Many thanks tor
four lovely flowers, which have boon greatly
ulmircd. It was like your thoughtfulness to
emember my birth-day when I had almost fur
rotten it myself. I was so sorry to have missed
tom' call this afternoon.
Sincerely yours, Florence Redifer.
A very gracious little note, but for
lome reason it appeared to afford its
reader but small satisfaction. Dick read
it twice with a curling lip, then tossing it
into the scrap basket, he lit a cigar,
stretched himself in an easy chair and
ihoughtfully observed through the smoke
wreaths that began to float around his
head: “What a precious little bar she
is! As if I didn’t see her ten minutes
after she was ‘not at home’ to me this
afternoon, start out driving with Tom
Baker in that confoundedly jerky dog
(art of his. Shouldn’t wonder if he had
jerked her off before they got home;
.nd served her right too! Why, Snip,
what is the matter with you sir?”
Snip was the skye terrier, who, failing
to understand why he had beep slighted,
was seeking to secure his master’s notice
by sitting upright and waving his front
paws to and fro in a gentle and depre
cating fashion.
“Did I hurt your feelings, poor little
boy?” said Dick, tenderly. “Well, I
wouldn’t, I assure you, for a dozen little
flirts like Florence Redifer, but I do
think, Snip, and I expect you to agree
with me, that we would all be much bet
ter off if women and men, too, would say
out truthfully what was in their minds
instead of this eternal beating around the
bush. Why can’t people be a little more
candid with their fellow-creatures instead
of fooling them to the top of their bent
and then laughing behind their backs?
Do you know, Snip?”
Snip didn’t know, but he was the last
dog iu the world to confess his ignor
ance, so assuming a look of wisdom
which Solomon might have envied, he
gave a mysterious little bark that could
mean anything and composed himself to
listen.
“Just 8 o'clock,” said Dick, consulting
his watch. “In two hours I’ve got to
dress and go to Mrs. Grey’s ball, the
biggest bore of the season I haven’t a
doubt; but there’s no escaping it. Aren’t
you glad, Snip, you don’t have to go to
balls?”
Snip barked again, this time in an
affirmative manner. He always accom
modated himself to his master’s moods,
and was well accustomed to being ques
tioned. Alert and vigilant, he watched
the cigar dwindle down by slow degrees, I
while he waited in well-bred silence for a
renewal of the conversation. But Dick
was drowsy and cross, aud when the
cigar was smoked out he turned his head
aside and fell fast asleep, while his little
dog curled contentedly around his feet,
looking up into his master’s face with a
world of patient love in his honest brown
ayes.
Seven, eight, nine, ten! Was it possi
ble that he had slept nearly two hours
and the clock was really striking ten?
Dick jumped up, glanced at his watch
to make sure, and with a stifled groan
prepared to induct himself into his dress
suit. This was never a very rapid pro
cess with him, aud by the time he en
tered Mrs. Grey’s brilliantly lit-up house
the great clock in the hall was pointing
to a quarter past 11.
The rooms were crowded and stiflingly
hot. !Jhe very flowers appeared to droop
under the glare and the heat, all except
some deep red roses which had been ar
ranged in a sentence over the doorway,
and whose glowing hearts presented the
most sumptuous and intense bit of color
ing, even in that many-hued apartment.
It was strangs, but Dick found himself
unable to read that sentence, although
composed of only three short words. The
language, even the letters, were unknown
to him, and for half a minute he stood
puzzling over the mystery. Then the
incoming crowd gently shoved him aside,
and abandoning the effort, he made the
I best of his way toward his hostess. A
pretty little woman, magnificently
dressed, but seemingly already much
fatigued with the work in hand, she half
smiled as Dick edged up to her.
“Have you just come, Mr. Turner?”
she said. “I thought you were to be
I one of my early birds.”
“ So I would have been,” he explained,
“only, unfortunately, I fell asleep and
did not wake up in time. ”
“Oh! that was the case, was it?
Well, such a lengthy nap ought to
brighten you up beautifully for the rest
of the evening. Sometimes, you know,
you are rather stupid.”
Dick looked at her to see if she meant
I a joke, but her pretty face was gravely
BELLTON, BANKS COUNTY, GA., DECEMBER 2, 1880.
raised to his. “ You are flattering me,”
he-said, shortly.
“I don’t mean to, indeed,” she an
swered, quite earnestly. “But there
are plenty of men who are always stupid,
while you can be rather entertaining,
when you are at your best,” and she
turned gently from him to greet a new
batch of guests.
“Was I ever damned with such faint
praise before ?” thought Dick. “ I won
der if I am -at my best’ to-night?”
For a minnte he stood, taking a survey
of the scene before him. The musicians
were playing a waltz, and playing it
well; only strange to say there was a
flute among them, which came piping in
with its shrill persistent little treble in a
manner distracting to Dick’s over-sensi
tive ear. He thought of Mozart’s saying
that the only thing in the world worse
than a flute in an orchestra was two
flutes, and wondered at Mrs. Grey’s
choice in music. Nevertheless, as long
as he was there he might ns well dance,
aud looking around for familiar faces, his
first glance fell upon a brown-eyed
maiden whom he had met at a party only
the week before, aud whom he had ad
mired with the guarded and half-super
cilious admiration of a veteran society
man. In another minute they were on
the floor contending with their fellow
creatures for a little room to whirl around
in, and seemingly successful in their
struggle, until a slight lurch sent them
rather suddenly against another pair o
dancers.
“That was stupid, wasn’t it?” said
Dick, as they stopped to take breath
after the concussion.
“Yes,” replied she of the brown eves,
raising them frankly to his face. “You
are rather a poor dancer. Perhaps you
are out of practice?”
“Indeed I ought not to be,” protested
Dick, in unutterable indignation at the
charge. “I never danced more in my
life than I have this winter.”
“Is that so? It must be awkwardness
then,” said his companion, gently.
“Some people never can thoroughly
learn. I think it is a natural toft.”
Dick wondered if he cCmld have heard
aright or if that wretched little flute, still
piping away so complacently, had
absolutely bewildered him. If there was
one thing he prided himself on more
than another—one gift, natural or other
wise, which he felt sure of possessing—it
was his dancing. Was the brown-eyed
damsel out of her mind or was she
simply an ill-bred little thing, who did
not know a good dancer from a baglxmoL
Whichever was the ease he lost
in getting rid of her, and still mute with
amazement and disgust, took refuge
among a group of men at the door.
“You here, Turner!” said one of them.
“I hardly recognized you at first, you
look so yellow and thin.”
“Do I, indeed?” said Dick, shortly,
and wondering what he was doomed to
hear next.
“I should rather think you did,” was
the friendly answer. “I just said to
Smith, here, as you came up, that be
tween your sallow skin and that bald
spot on your head, you were beginning
to look like an old man before your time.
Why don’t you take to country life and
early hours aud freshen up a bit?”
“Why don’t you mind your own af
fairs and kindly leave me to attend to
mine?” retorted Dipk, now thoroughly
aroused, aud without waiting for another
word ho veered around atid left tho
group, who, one and all, seemed pro
foundly astonished at his ill temper.
By this time he began to feel a little
uncertain who to approach next. Hav
ing been told already that he was stupid,
ugly and a bad dancer, what was there
left for him to hear. He certainly had
never met so many disagreeable people
in his life and he had serious thoughts of
beating a permanent retreat, when he
caught sight of a blonde head half hidden
beneath the azaleas in the conservatory.
It was Florence Redifer, whom he had
never expected to meet to-night and
whom two hours ago he would have in
dignantly avoided. But for some reason
his contempt for her flattery and false
ness had been strangely modified in so
short a time and he felt a positive yearn
ing to listen again to her pretty nothings
and to see her blue eyes uplifted with
that tender glance of admiring trustful
ness to his It must have cost her a
great deal of time and patience to culti
vate the glance up to its present perfec
tion and it was unkind, after all, to sneer
at the result of such honest and endear
ing toil.
The next minute he was by her side.
She looked very pretty: her fair hair
tumbled in some mysterious fashion on
the top of her shapely little head; her
bright face lit up with smiles, and her
white silk gleaming under the colored
lamps with a soft and shifting radiance
that pleased Dick’s cultivated eye. Ho
was not one of those to whom a woman’s
gown is a matter of indifference.
“I came in here for a little air,” she
said; “the rooms are so terribly hot, and
the whole affair is very stupid. Don’t
you think so ?”
“It has been worse than stupid for
me,” he answered, laughing. “I have
been insulted wherever I went. First,
Mrs. Gray told me I was often very
stupid; then Miss Vincent, do you know
her? She is dancing now with Tom
Stern.”
“I don’t know her; but never mind!
What did she say to you?”
“She told me I was awkward and a
bad dancer, and intimated that I could
never thoroughly learn.”
Florence Redifer burst into a laugh as
clear and merry as silver bells. ‘ ‘But
you know, Mr. Turner,” she said, “your
best friends do not claim for you that
you dance well.”
Dick gasped and then recovered; he
was getting hardened now. “I always
flattered myself I did,” he said boldly.
| She looked at him in some surprise.
“Qt qoqrse, I 4°h't ipean to say,” she
explained, “that one cannot get around
with you at all, but only tlipt you are not
very graceful and sure-footed. There
are plenty of men here who dance worse
—Mr. Simpson, for instance.
“I should hope so,” said Dick, as
Simpson, a little weak-eyed man, who
held his fair partner as if he feared she
was packed with dynamite and was in
danger every minute of exploding,
moved laboriously past the door. “If
that is the best you can say for me; Miss
Florence, I shall never have the audacity
to ask you to dance again,” and with a
heavy heart he left the conservatory, now
f ully satisfied he had had enough of Mrs.
Grey's ball.
8 Ho took a glass of champagne in the
supper-room, where its quality was being
freely discussed by the young men who
lingered there, and wont back to pay his
parting respects to his hostess. There
were still plenty of people about, but a
chill seemed to have fallen on them, the
Dancers were tow, and everybody looked
bored or discontented. Mrs. Grey was
saying the last words to a party of guests
who were about taking their departure.
“ Such a pity it should have beou a
failure,” he heard one of them whisper
iu a tone of sympathy. “And after all
tho expense you have gone to!”
“I am sure, then, it must have been
the fault of my guests,” returned Mrs.
Grey, “for I did my part Os well ap I
could. Why, Mr. Turner, are you going
so soon ? I wonder if you, too, found
my party a stupid one ?’’
Snv> looked so harassed that Dick for
got the grudge he owed her, and would
gladlk have declared her ball both bril-
and delightful, but the words he
wished to say stuck in his throat—he
absolutely could not give them utterance.
An awful impulse was upon him, and to
his secret horror and dismay he
hearft'himseJAjassuring her the painful
t Was tho most dismal affair
heLßf in his life. Then
ove|®ioliheu with shame at his involtln
tarjWudenqM he turned away, and his
eyosFteU vita-the erimson roses still
blooming frdMj; over the doorway.
Wnat aiuwßiot he must have been!
Therein English letters were the
three words, '“'Palace of Truth.” As he
looted and marie flute pealed
fort! Aso loudly and with so shrill a
triunvph in its tone that Dick fairly
jumpjfd, and in the violence of his start
kicked the sleeping Snip, who leaped
master’s way and gazed at him
witWoproaobful, wonderful eyes.
“Eleven o’clock, as I am a living
s u’d Dial:, yawning. “Three
hours asleep and no ball for mo to-night.
Snip, you little villain, why didn’t you
awaken me?”
Snip was silent. Ho felt the arrant
injustice of this remark, and bore it with
the equanimity of a stoic.
“Well,” said his master, slowly, as he
lit his candle, “since you did not, and as
I have had all the dissipation and all the
candor I need for one night, I think, lit
tle dog, that you and I will go peaceably
and gratefully to bed.”
Who was Bluebeard 1
A gentleman who saw tho gray, forbid
ding castle of Bluebeard rising above tho
s ation of Champtoce, France, tells who
the frightful hero of the nursery was:
Some reader may ask, “Who was this
real, historical Bluebeard?”
I answer that iu Brittany ho was tho
Sieur Gilles de Rotz, a great feudal lord,
who possessed vast estates and great
power in this neighborhood in the latter
part of the fourteenth and beginning of
the fifteenth centuries, and was, besides,
a marshal of France.
This castle was his stronghold, and he
ruled it and the Loire country around
with a hand of iron and a sword of fire.
Gifted m youth with physical strength
and beauty, and an enormous fortune,
he impaired both by all sorts of in
dulgences.
When too late, with a defiled and
bloated body, he found himself lashed
by the scorpion whip that is always sure
to follow sin.
Instead of growing penitent, he only
became more bloody and relentless.
Seduced by a wicked rtnd cunning
alchemist to believe that by bathing in
human blood he could claim back his
vanished health, beauty, and spirits, he
entrapped children and young persons of
both sexes, murdered them in the dun
geons of the castle with liig own hand,
and bathed in their warm blood.
It was believed that more than a hun
dred were thus murdered.
After years of impunity the matter be
came so notorious and spread so much
fear through the country that the people
rose in a mass against him, made him a
prisoner, and carried him to Nantes.
There he was tried by his suzerain
lord, the Duke of Brittany, and con
demned to be burnt alive at the stake, a
judgment earned into execution in 1440
on what is now the Chaussee de la Made
leine, on the Gloriette Island, in front of
where the great hospital now stands.
Changes in English Fiction.
Marvelous changes both in the quality
of English novels and in the personal of
their writers have been witnessed since
Dickens and Thackeray passed away-
Shirley Brooks, George Lawrence and
White Melville are no more. Anthony
Trollope ambles along at the well-known
pace on the same old nag. Charles
Reade has laid aside the pen. Wilkie
Collins grows increasing more spectral
and shuddery, and less like his old
master. George Eliot keeps for the
most part silence, or, when she breaks it,
does so only to bore a public which
would fain "admire. Miss Branddon,
Mrs. Edwards and Mrs. Oliphant are
still weaving tho familiar plots out of the
accustomed material. Miss Broughton
has almost exhausted the resources of
her prurient imagination. Ouida alone
possesses that iu full vigor,
SOUTHERN NEWS.
Austin, Texas is to have a capital, cost
ing $1,500,000.
The German carp put in Georgia wa
ters are doing finely.
Scarlet fever is making it red-hot for
the people of Natchez.
There are five candidates for the post
mastership of Nashville under Garfield’s
administration.
The sugar crop of Southern Texas has
been damaged fully one-half by the re
cent storms.
Late cotton has been damaged fearfully
at Cleburne, Longview, McKinney and
other points in Texas.
The Nashville American now figures
up a Democratic majority of six on joint
ballot in the Tennessee Legislature.
It is said that seventy-eight of the 100
members of Tennessee Legislature are in
favor of paying the State debt.
There is a movement on foot by promi
nent members of the Tennessee Legisla
ture to cut down the number of elections,
James Christopher, of Forest City,
Ark., recently went to the house of a
colored woman, and, in attempting to
force his way in, was killed by her. She
was discharged on the ground of self
defense.
There are deficits in the budgets of
several departments of the City Hall of
New Orleans. The appropriation for pay
of the police is $40,000 short, and the
Improvements Department is short $32,-
000.
John M. Hill, a Little Rock printer,
was re-married Wednesday last to the
wife from whom he was divorced. After
several months’ separation they began
corresponding, which ended in second
bliss.
Under the new code of Mississippi,
any citizen has the right to arrest or carry
before a Magistrate or sny proper officer
the tramp he may find begging about
his premises. It is made the duty of
Magistrates to commit such tramps to
jail, and from the jail he is to be hired
out as other convicts are.
William Mattox, an inoffensive old
man, was brutally murdered at his house
near Abbeville, S. C., Thursday night
last. Two men asked for lodging, and
being denied, entered the house and de
manded his money, killed him and took
S7OO. No clue to the murderers has been
discovered up to this time. The wife of
the deceased was in an adjoining room.
Nashville American: Five school
houses—four in Wilson and one in Da
vidson county, all near the Lebanon
turnpike—were destroyed by fire, on
Wednesday night last, by incendiaries.
Under what is known as the four mile
law, saloons or drinking-houses can not
be run within an incorporated institution
of learning, and, in order to prevent Ihe
sale of liquor in their neighborhoods,
persons residing at different points along
the turnpike secured charters and built
all the school-houses destroyed last
Wednesday night.
A special from Harper’s Ferry says a
romantic marriage has taken place on
the railroad bridge there. A gentleman
from Newmarket, Vt., was taking his
daughter westward to prevent her mar
riage with a young farmer. While the
father was in depot writing to his wife,
informing her of his safe journey to that
point, the youag lady’s lover, who had
secured a marriage license and a minis
ter, put in an appearance, and the twain,
hurrying over the bridge, past the State
line, were married. They then returned
to the station and informed her father,
whe left at once for home, disgusted, the
young couple following him the next
day.
Sunday evening, after his services in
the Orange Hill Free-will Baptist church,
Richmond, Va., the pastor, Rev. S. B.
Ginn, came out with his wife. As they
reached the street Marion Sutton, a
young man standing on the outside, be
gan to use abusive language to the
preacher. Mr. Ginn asked him what he
had done to him that he should abuse
him in this way. Sutton continued,
however, and the preacher shook his fin
ger in a warning way in the young man’s
face, telling him to stop, whereupon Sut.
ton knocked him down. The preacher,
who is a smaller man, got up and return
ed the blow. Sutton knocked him
down again. The preacher came to time
again and put in another lick. At this
point the minister’s wife came to his res
cue, and, taking up a brick, threw it at
Sutton, he alleges. The parties were
finally separated, and next morning were
1 arrested on cross-warrants
)rtl)
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY
BELLTON, GjK.
BY JOHN BLATS.
Tkbmb—si:oo per ananm 60 ceats for ell
mouths; 25cents forthreemonths.
Partios away from Bellton are requested
to send their names with snoh amounts of
money ai they oan pare, from 2c c. to $1
]MO. 48.
HUMOROUS BREVITIES.
A man who opens oysters tdoes hings
by halves.
There’s lots of cold oomfort in a hun
dred pounds of ice.
One-half of the world doesn’t know
how the other half lies.
A Nevada ball report says: “Honora
X was full of eclat—in fact, the eclateat
lady present. ”
“You can’t play that on me 1” said the
piano to the amateur who broke down on
a difficult piece of music.
“One touch of you, ma, makes the
whole world spin,” as the boy said when
his mother boxed his ears.
“Darling husband,” she said, “ami
not your treasure ?” ‘ ‘Certainly, ”he re
plied, “and I should like to lay yon up
in heaven.”
The editor of the Cincinnati Commer
cial, who has farming ideas, thought
that to have buttermilk he must buy a
goat.— New York Herald.
One of the first requisitions received
from a newly-appointed railway station
agent was: “Send me a gallon of red
oil for the danger lanterns.
When you see two dogs growling and
getting ready to fight, remember that it
is only a joint, debate, and the liveliest
dog will get away with the joint.”
“Do you get any holidays in your of
fice?” asked a returned divine of a cher
ry-looking worker in secular walks. ‘ ‘Oh,
yes, we get a day to get buried on. ”
“ Ciphering:” School boy (kept in)—
“Let’s see—one t’m’s ought’s ought.
Twice ought’s ought. Three t’m’s ought
—oh, must be something—stick it down
one.”
A young lady at an examination in
grammar was asked why “the man bach
elor was singular ?” She replied imme
diately, “Because it is very singular they
don’t get married. ”
“ You wouldn’t take a man’s last cent
fora cigar, would you?” “Certainly I
would,” remarked the proprietor. “Well,
here it is, then,” passing over a cent,
“give me the cigar.”
A Western writer thinks that if the
proper way to spell tho is “though,” ate
is “eight,” and boes is “beaux,” the
proper way to (spell potatoes is pough
teighteaux.—Cleveland Sun.
“There Are No Birds in Last Year’s
Nests ” is the title of a song. Probably
not. If it were equally sure that there
are no rats in last year’s rat holes the
public mind would be more at rest
The Vermont housewife who read that
English nobles have lots of hares in their
preserved, says she tried it to the extent
of putting a whole chignon into some
blackberry jam, and the jam didn’t seem
a bit better for it.
“ Shall we sell or abandon our girls?”
editorially asks the editor of the Hawk
eye. Do neither. Give ’em away. When
a girl is given away, if she is not “ sold,”
the young man is—in a majority of cases.
—Norristown Herald.
Two ladies in the horse car were talk
ing about an actress whom they had just
seen. “She is too stout,” said one. “Oh,
no,” replied the other, who slightly
tended towards embonpoint. “She is
more than stout; she’s fat. ”
The truly affectionate and sensible
wife approaches her husband with a be
nignant expression of countenance, and
gently laying her hand upon his shoulder,
observes, “Charley, dear, please don't
spend any more money for cardamom
seeds. I'll try and stand it if you won’t
kiss me on the lips. ”
A lady correspondent of the Cincin
nati Enquirer says: “I know a fashion
able belle who has her arms lathered and
shaved from end to end by a barber onoe
a month.” Aha! This explains why
female arms become bald-headed at such
an early age.— Philadelphia Chronicle-
Herald, _
Goats as (’burners.
The most striking feature of the dairy
ranch of F. 8. Clough, in San Mateo
canon, is the new dairy house which Mr.
Clough recently completed at a cost of
$1,500. It is 18x36 in ground dimen
sions, finished externally in rustic style,
and inside is as trim and cleanly as the
thrifty housewife’s “best room.” The
butter-room, an apartment 10x15 feet in
dimensions, is as inviting as a parlor.
The apparatus for handling the milk and
making the butter is complete in every
detail, and is designed throughout for
the saving of labor. The chum holds
fifty-two gallons of cream, and turns out
from 100 to 120 pounds of butter at each
churning. It is worked by goat power,
the appliances being a treading-wheel
eighteen feet in diameter, which connects
with and operates a shaft running into
the dairy house, and this in turn con
necting with cog-wheels working the
dashers. Mr. Clough says that the goats
in operating the wheel indulge their
natural propensities for climbing, and
they apply themselves to the work with
great gusto. The herd consists of some
eight or ten animals, ranging from the
grandmother and old “ Billy” with the
whiskers down to the youngling not
over a foot high. When released from
their pens, they one and all, great and
small, run bleating for the wheel, and
the only trouble to contend with there
after is the excess of power which they
are apt to give it in the course of their
frolicsome gambols.— Los Angeles (Cal.)
Express.
A volume containing descriptions of
all the presents ever given to a Queen is
certainly an oddity, but it is said that
Queen Victoria proposes to issue such a
book. It is to be illustrated- by photo
graphs, and to include not merely costly
gifts but simple tokens of affection which
nave lieen given by her poor subjects at
Balmoral "