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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 "