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NORTH GEORGIA TIMES I
Wm. 0. MARTIN, Editor,
Lire Pictures.
A glow at morn:
The rose half tempted into blooming red;
Bright hopes just born
That ere the eve, must shed
Their petfus, though we never deem them
dead.
A warmth at noon,
Fullsouled and odorous; and life all fair
As summer moon,
When stars lace beams as rare
As laughter which hath not behind some care.
*• ****** eve:
The ardor and the heat of day is o’er.
i Hope can deceive
No longer; life no more
Can weave romances from a poet’s lore.
A hush at night:
We fold pur wings as birds that seek the nest.
Earth iabedight
With rose no more. The zest
Of fifesinks with the sunlight In the west.
* * ♦ ♦
It is no dream,
No castlc-buil 'ing time, that we call life;
• To-catch the gleam
Of heaven in the strife,
Our toil must tend to reach the better life.
There is much room
For gratitude, much room for tenderness
In all the gloom
Of sorrow, much to bless,
If we will labor more, aud murmur less.
Let us not turn
To srek in clouds our happiness, but try
Each day to learn
That near borne blossings He.
Those die to live who first have lived to die.
—Harriet Kendall, in the Quiver.
A COUNTRY COUSIN.
“1fes,,Iremembcr her very well,” said
Misjfc Ncmonrville. “A black-eyed romp,
chasing tho wild horses all over the farm,
and. pitching hay up on the mow, exactly
as if she were a boy. Our third cousin,
wasn’t she—-or fourth, or some such far¬
away Jdn? But what of her?”
“What of her?” snarled old Colonel
Nemourville. “Why, just this. Her
folks arc dead. And one of the officious
.11 .^q-gymon has written to
as. to adopt her. Just as if
enough to trouble us, with,
item on hand already, and no
tnce, that I can see, of their
Itied” (this last envenomed
ompanied by a gloomy eontrac
m of the speaker’s shaggy brows),
i&t assuming the charge of all crea
|o the bargain! Adopt her, in
Why, what claim has she on us,
I’d Kie to know? The impudence of
some people?"
“We couldn’t possibly think of such a
thing 1” said Mrs. Nemourville, an elder¬
ly lady, with a good deal of powder sift¬
ed skillfully ovCr her features, and a lace
cap patterned after the latest French
models. “Our income scarcely meets
our expenses as things ore at present. I
do wonder at the assurance of those peo¬
ple out there 1”
The Nemourville family had always
kindly, remembered their relationship to
Mrs.’Vassall when the vertical sunbeams
jden ■of July and August made city life a bur
to them, and their purse-strings,
straightened Ly the ceaseless attempt to
keep up a style far above their means,
refused toadmit of a trip to Newport,
Saratoga or the White Mountains.
Mrs. Vassall had welcomed them with
the sweet graciousness of that hospitality
which come3 from the heart. Lassie, the
“black-eyed romp,” had shown Blanche,
Vera and Editha Nemourville the nooks
where the clearest springs bubbled out,
and the dells where feathery sprays of
maiden-hair could be gathered' by the
double handful, and no pains were spared
to make things pleasant for the city cou¬
sins during their somewhat prolonged
visits.
1
But all this conveniently effaced itself
ifrom their memory now.
Adopt Lassie Vassell? Make tbem
'selves responsible for her board, and
(clothes, and lodging? Good heavens 1
What were people thinking of?
So Colonel Nemourville wrote back a
/polite declination, fairly glittering with
■its icy conventionalities.
Lassie Vassal, sitting in her deep-black
irobes, heard tho good clergyman's wife
iread it twice over bofore she fairly com
iprehended its meaning.
“Don’t they want me to go to them?” .
,
Ishe asked, lifting the heavy, black-fring
ed lids that were weighted down with
'tears.
“Pm afraid they don’t, dear,” said the
(clergyman's wife.
, Lassie drew a deep sigh.
• “Then I must try to find some way of
,eamingmy own living,” said she. “You
ihave all been so good to me, but it must
come to an end sooner or later. Dear
Mrs. Hall, won’t you go and see that lady
- who wanted a nursery governess to travel
with her little children to Scotland? I
always liked children, and they fortu¬
nately don’t require many accomplish
-ments. I dread crossing the ocean a
little, but I must try to leave off being a
’.coward.” _ ......
SPRING PLACE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY JUNE 21, 1806.,
So the Nemourvilles heard nothing
further of Lassie Vassell.
But the girl herself did not forget all
this.
“They might have been a little kind
•to me,” she kept repeating to herself.
“They might have been a little kind to
me!”
The Nemourvilles meanwhile bravely
kept up, although against wind and tide,
the struggle for a satisfactory matrimonial
settlement for Blanche, Vera and Editha.
They gave five-o’clock teas, purple
dinners and pink lunches; they sent out
cards for soirees; went to all the charity
balls, kinnesses and chance-parties to
which they could obtain an entree. Th’y
smiled, and simpered, and danced, and
promenaded with Spartan endurance;
and still they remained the Misses Ne
mourville.
But when the waves of society were
rippled by rumors of the advent of a live
English,, baronet, Blanche*.. Vsift and
Editha began to hope anew. }
Miss Clitchett, one of their particular
friends, had been introduced to Sir Revc
Kennett at a Delmonico ball, and she had
promised to ask the Nemourvillo girls to
a charade party where the English bar¬
onet was to bo present.
Miss Nemourvillo ordered a new dress
of white brocade. Vera ordered Madam
Pctherique to make over her cherry satita
with flounces of black Escurial lace and
a train a full quarter of a yard long.
Editha, who enacted the juvenile role,
ripped her one white muslin to pieces
and remade it, with puffs nnd pleatings
of Spanish blondo .and occasional knots
of the palest blue ribbon.
But they were doomed to the saddest
disappointment. They went to the party.
So did Sir Revo Kennett. But somehow
they could not get near the reigning Btar.
“I’ll never forgive Cornelia Clitchett!”
said Miss Nemourville, as palo as her
own brocade. “She hasn’t taken any
more notice of us than if wc were those
big china jars in the corner!'’
“She meant a deliberate insult!” gasp¬
ed Vera.
But they were wrong. It was only
that poor Cornelia Clitchett had entirely
forgotten all about them iu the rush and
crush and excitement of tko erwnhig. 1
“How handsome he is!” said Editha.
“Oh, oh, why can't wc get an introduc¬
tion? Look, look! he’s coming this way.
Who is that lady on his arm—the tall
lady in white, with the magnificent eyes
and the necklace of pearls?”
“Don’t you know?” said Mrs. De Sain
tin. “It’s Lady Kennett.”
“Lady Kennett?”
-“His wife,” explained Mrs. De Saintin,
graciously. “He is here on his wedding
tour. Lady Kennett is charming. They
are to give a bait at the Windsor Hotel,
in return fox the hospitalities they have
received here.”
“Oh!” said the three Misses Nemour
viMe, in concert.
“Haven’t you been introduced?” asked
Mrs. De Saintin. “No? Pray allow me
the pleasure 1”
And presently Sir Rove and Lady Ken¬
nett were bowing their acknowledgment
of the profuse courtesies of the Misses
Nemourville.
If the English guests had been crown¬
ed monarchs, these damsels could not
have been more obsequious.
Sir Rove was tall and strikingly hand¬
some! Lady Kennett had fine eyes and
a graceful figure, but was not otherwise
remarkable.
“Nemourville 1” she repeated. “Did
you say Nemourville?”
“A pretty name, isn’t it?” said Mrs.
De Saintin.
“But it is not new to me,” said Lady
Kennett, smiling. “I have met these
ladies before.”
“I’m sure, your ladyship, I don’t know
how that could be,” said Blanche, quite
fluttered with the idea of addressing a
lady of title.
“Oh, I declare, your ladyship!” gig¬
gled Vera.
“Your ladyship is making fun of us,”
said artless Editha.
“Oh, but lam quite certain of it!”
said Lady Kennett, in her slow, graceful
way. “You,” to the elder, “are Blanche,
aren’t you? And you are Vera? And
this is Editha? Now, am I -not right? Is
it possible that you have forgotten me?”
The three Misses Nemourvillo would
not for the world have suspected an En¬
glish baronet’s lady of inaccuracy.
But they certainly viewed her with re¬
spectful incredulity and amazement.
“I am Lassie;’’said she—“Lassie Vas¬
sall, who used to pick blackberries and
gather autumn leaves with you. I am
your cousin three times removed.!”
The three Misses Nemourville were
straightway lifted from comparative in¬
significance to the top wave of populari¬
ty. As three clHerly spinsters, they had
been rather drugs in the market than
otherwise. But as Lady Kennett’s cou¬
sins, the dawn of a new social existence
was brightening over them.
‘MTou darling 1” criod Blanche, when
she came to lunch at the Windsor Hotel,
the next day, with Sir Rcvc and Lady
Kennett. “Now you must tell me, how!
did it all happen!”
"Idon’t know, lam sure,” said Las¬
sie, timidly. “I went to Scotland as a
nursery-governess with a lady who was a .
friend of good Mrs. Hall’s; and at Loch
Lomond we met Sir Revc, and—and—”
“And I can tell the rest,” said Sir
Reve, laughingly, taking up the dropped
chain of Lassie’s words. “Aud Sir Reve
fell in love with you, and he would givo
you no peace at all until you married him
—eh, little girl?”
And as Lassie smiled shyly up at him,
Blanche Nemourville could not but ac
knowledge to herself that this third cou- |
sin of hers had wonderful dark eyes.
“But for all that,” she afterward told
Editha and Vera, “I can’t sec what there
was in Lassie Vassall to attract such a 1
man as Sir Reve Kennett. If it had been
mo, now, or either of you—”
“Yes,” nodded the two other sisters,
“if it had been cither of us 1 But a mere
country chit, right off the farm, without
a particle of style about her 1”
And then they all three cried in chorus:
“It’s quite unaccountable!”— Helen
Forrest Graves.
;
A Club of Sneak Thieves., j
A Now York lettor to the Chicago
Herald, says: The strangest street per
sons, on the whole, are to be seen in Mott
street, where the Chinese centralize, and
whero all sorts of folks go to look at
them. Chinamen are not numerous
enough in this city, and those we have
are too widely distributed in their laun
dries all over town to constitute much ol
a Chiuese quarter. The nearest approach
to it is a block or two in which their
stores, gambling houses, opium joints
and lodgings almost exclude other occu¬
pancy. However, it was in the upper
story of one of these buildings, a ram¬
shackle old two-and-a-half-story structure
■over a Chinese restaurant, that the police
found and broke up a sneak thieves’ club.
The members were a dozen hard young¬
sters, reared in the squalor aud vice of
the neighborhood, and their highest am¬
bition was to become robbers. But they
had a methodical president, wiro intent! •“
cd that they should be instructed in the
law and ethics of their trade; so he went
to a broken-down shyster at the Tombs,
near by, and hirod him for $2 to deliver
a lecture on the dangers and safeguards .
of sneaktheiving. His first discourse was
on the penalties for different graces of
robbery, and especially ho pointed out
tho foolishness of taking big risks for
little boodle. “Don’t break into any
house,” he said “unless you feel sure you
can capture a heavy swag, because that
is burglary, punishable with as much as
twenty years’ imprisonment. Don’t use
force against persons, because that consti¬
tutes highway robbery, with the same
penalty, no matter if you only take a
dime. But sneak into hallways, load
yourselves with coats from the rack and
scoot away, because a year in the peniten¬
tiary is the most you can get for merely
stealing less than $25 worth, and a jury
will usually scale a coat down to that
figure.” Tho enterprising thieves were
so well pleased with this lecture that
they applied to a more conscientious ex¬
pert for another, and he informed tho
police.
He Left!
The popular test of allowing an animal
to witness concerning his ownership is
not always successful. A case was once
brought into court in which the owner¬
ship of a dog was questioned. The judgo
knew tho popular method in such trials,
and determined to let the dog “testify
by every mark of affection.”
“Stop!” exclaimed his Honor. “Stop
right there! Now you, Mr. Plaintiff,
get into that far corner out there; and
y6u, Mr. Defendant, go into the corner
over here. There! Now both of you
whistle, and, Mr. Clerk, you loose tho
dog. The man whom the dog seeks is
his master.”
“The plaintiff and defendant whistled.
The dog hardly noticed the sounds.
They whistled again. The clerk let go
his hold. The dog cast a look about him
of mingled disgust and timidity, lifted
one ear at the jury and another at the
clerk. Then throwing back his head, he
gave vent to a howl of terror, and shot
out of the door like a meteor.
A Secnre Retreat.
Country Editor—Weil, they captured
the murderer at last.
Citizen—So I hear. Where did they
find him?
Country Editor—Just leaving the back
door of old Buerag’s dry goods store. Ho
and Buerag are relatives. He has been
taking it easy there for three weeks.
Citizen—I wonder nobody saw him.
Country Editor—No danger of that.
Buerag York never advertises, you know.—
New Sun.
SPOTTSYLVANLl
-
Incidents of the Battle l:y e
Federal Soldier.
Vivid ficturafe of tho Horror.’ of War
Brazil by a Spectator,
From an account of tin- battle of fjpett
sylvania by Haivoy S. Wells v.: ropy a
follows:
As such clo-c quarters bo many i:tcu
were s * rucb in the head, as tho remit o!
deliberate aim. Although to one in tin
lino i<; did,10t ,rc ! 11 <w if many men worn
about him, but steadily all day
long the filing of the sharpshooters ac¬
com P b,sboi l ifebjatal work Until tin
ground was literally strewn with the
dcad ; "* bc weather was warm, the men
got tlrc f1 of 1 ving 80 lon S {n positions of
-
constr! . lnt to their bodies; they
’ wanted
W f Cr aud a cha ’*"’ t0 strctcb tb '* ir wear
lcd llmbs > am1 > ! Ubou S h knowing it was
alraost insl:mt diatb > they would rise and
run for the rear, sure to be followed by a
vobc y of bullets from the rebel sharp
shooters. I never during over four years
act '. vc service in the army witnessed so
many individual acts of daring aud fool¬
hardiness on tho part of soldiers as on
this day.
Iu the company which I commanded,
out of 31 men who entered tho fight 10
were killed and wounded, most of them
killed instantly, aad half of that number
shot in conscqueree of acts of foolhardy
daring, imcallcd for in tho requirements
of faithful duty. At the time I attributed
much of this devil-may-care spirit to tho
whiskey in ’the canteens issued to us the
day before. There was a drunken artil¬
lery officer, who r yflc up and down along
our line with gay uniform, mounted on a
spirited horse, swinging bis hat and call¬
ing on the men to dilarge, who seemed to
possess a charmed life, for ho escaped un¬
harmed. The man stopped and talked
with me a short time, with the bullets fly¬
ing all about him, when one of us did not
dare poke up a finger for fear of having it,
shot off. A cap on a bayonet stuck up
above the breast-work was sure to be per
forated by Confcdeiate bullets.
Who* the e.M-vb:4>W.n„eu,en ammunition of one caisson
hausen F .ekles 8 .
!? lines -...... and dragged it back with them I
amid a perfect hailstorm of lead. Not
less than a hundred dead bodies lay
close around that brass piece of artillery
captured from the enemy when night
drew her sable curtain over the sanguina¬
ry work of the day.
During tho night the enemy abandoned
the salient, and early tho next morning
tho Union troops could go over the scone
of the previous day’s carnage without
fear of molestation. “Piles of dead” is
often used as a figure of speech, but in
the works abandoned by the Confederates
piles of dead literally and without exag¬
geration were lying in tho compartments
which I have previously mentioned.
Two, three and four deep, tangled-uj
with each other, bodies and limbs inter¬
twined, actual heaps of dead, their black
and bloated faces upturned to the sky, ir
all manner of positions, and decompose
tion already polluting the atmospliert
with a horrible stench. It was such s
picture of war, homed war, as few peo
pie, even those who make a business ol
war, arc permitted to witness. It would
take the pen of a Victor Hugo to faith¬
fully describe such a scene of death and
carnage, such a hideous and appalling
holocaust of human life. In tho woods,
immediately in the rear of tho Confeder¬
ate line pf earth-works one could see th«
fearful effect of the musketry fire fron
the Union line. Swinton, in his history,
says that all the trees within the range ol
ihe musketry were killed, so blighting in
its effects was tho fire of leaden bullets
poured into the forest in the 20 hours tin
Union tr )ops were ordered to never ceast
firing.
On that morning after the battlo I san
two oak trees of vigorous growth, about
18 inches in diameter, that had been act¬
ually cut in two, gnawed off four or fiv»
feet from the ground by bullets fired
from the Union line in front the day be
fore. This may give the reader somi
idea of the terrible fire concentrated oi
the Confcdcratj line behind their earth
works on that never-to-be-forgotten 12tl
of May, 1864, by the troops of the arm;
of the Potomac. In tho fall of 1865
when I was still in the army, I visitei
Washington on official business. As 1
entered the War Department, on eacl
sidi of the main entrance, in front anc
under a little projecting portico, I sav
two stumps of trees, the same that I had
witnessed on tho battlefield of Spottsyl
vania. They had been sawed off am
carried to Washington as mementos o
the bloodiest field of battle which historj
records of the late war.
The only man who has the president'
ear—Mr. Cleveland.
Vol. VI, New Series, NO. 20.
Tlic Evolution of States.
The curious proces.9 of evolution by
which States iu the American Union are
made is aptly illustrated in the case of
Dakota, It was originally a part of the
territory claimed bv France, and styled
New France, including what is now Can¬
ada, the entire Northwest, and all the
territory west of the Mississippi River,
throughout its entire extent from the
frozen North to the Gulf of Mexico. As
a consequence of the European wars
from 1756 to 1763, and the defeat of
France, that part of New Franco now
known as Canada was ceded to Great
Britain, and all west of the Mississippi
was ceded to Spain. In 1800, during
tlic Napoleonic wars, and as a result of
the French victories everywhere on the |
Continent of Europe, all of the territory
that had been ceded to Spain Was reced¬
ed to France. In 1803, during the ad¬
ministration of Jefferson, the “Louisiana
purchase,” as it was called, was effected,
and the United States became the owner
of the territory. At the time when tho
purchase of the territory was effected it
included Louisiana, Arkansas, Iowa,
Kansas, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska,
the Indian territory, Colorado, Idaho,
Wyoming, Montana and Dakota, with
shadowy claims to what is now Oregon
and Washington. The claim of tho Un¬
ited States to the territory west of the
Rocky Mountains was subsequently rati¬
fied by treaties with Great Britain,
which had previously claimed the entire
Western slope and coast to tlic north line
of Mexico, now tho north line of Califor¬
nia. Congress divided the territory into
Orleans and Louisiana in 1804. In 1813
Orleans was admitted into tho Union as
the State of Louisiana, and the name of
Louisiana Territory was changed to Mis¬
souri Territory. In 1831 tho State of
Missouri was admitted to the Union, and
Arkansas followed. After that time the !
almost boundless tract remaining waa j
loosely styled the Northwest Territory.
Ill 1834 all cast of the Missouri River was
^gan.zcd 1,1 1930 .... tb mto “ present the Territory State of of Michigan. Michigan
™ n '° into the Un,on ’ leav, ng tbo baIauce
of the country Wiseonsm . Territory,
as or
‘‘Ouiskonsan ” as it was then called. In
184 ® a " d 1848 Iowa Wisconsin were
J ^
ta Territory. lit 1858 MiuriCsota^s^fc m
its present limits, came into tho Union,
and the balance of the tract was in TaV
nameless, but was called Minnesota Ter¬
ritory, to distinguish it from the State of
the same name. Iu 1881 the Territory of
’Dakota, [established with its present boundaries, wa3
by act of Congress. Such is
^hc loug process by which, through the
occupation of the country for settlement,
by pushing the frontiers farther away
into the mountains and the wilderness,
and by the progress of civilization, Amer¬
ican States are made. It is a system of
evolution and growth possessing great
interest for tho student of politics and
history.
Silenced.
The Scotch often use humor to settle a
question which, otherwise, might givo
.rise to an excited argument, involving
much hair splitting logic. The follow
ing anecdote of Norman McLeod, the
eloquent preacner, illustrates this happy
use of the wit which transfixes a man as
an entomologist does a bug. He was on
his way to church, to open a new place
of worship. As he passed slowly and
gravely through the crowd gathered
about the doors, an elderly man, with
the peculiar kind of a wig known in that
district—bright, smooth, and of a red.
dish brown—accosted him.
“Doctor, if you please, I wish to speak
to you.”
“Well, Duncan,” said the venerable
doctor, “can not you wait till after wor¬
ship?”
“No, doctor, I must speak to you now,
.for it is a matter upon my conscience.”
“Oh, since it is a matter of conscience,
tell me what it is; but be brief, Duncan,
for time passes.”
“The matter is this, doctor. Ye sec
the clock yonder, on the face of this new ;
church? Well, there is no clock really
there; nothing but the face of a clock.
(There is no truth in it but only once in
the twelve hours. Now, it is in my mind
'Very wrong, and quite against my con
science, that thero should be a lie on the
face of the house of the Lord.”
. “Duncan, I will consider the point.
But I am glad to see you looking so well,
j You arc not young now; I remembor
you for many years; and what a fine
| head of hair you have still.”
“Eh, doctor, you are joking now; it
is long since I have had any hair.”
: “ODuncan! Duncan! are you going
l into the house of tho Lord with a lie
upon your head?”
This, says the story, settled the ques¬
tion; and the doctor heard no more of
the lie on the face of the clock.
My Own Country.
The west wind blows, the ruffled rose
Is drooping in the vale;
The fragrant- flow’rs of woodland bow’rs
Mako sweet^the cooling gale.
Earth’s flow’re may bloom awhile for some,
But nevermore for me!
The snn is low, and I must go
Home to my own eountry.
Oh, sweet and fair the flowers there,
Yea, sweeter far than here:
One spring for aye; one endless day:
Fields never turning sere!
Oh, sweet are all the strooms that roll
Along each heavenly lea!
No pain nor gloom can overcome
Into my own country
I wAcM not live: I could not grieve
Longer in this strange land,
Since 1 may tread the streets o’erspreaa
With gold by God’spirrehand!
Ah! then adieu, sweet friends, to you;
Would you could go with me;
To walk the fc streeta, and tasto-tho sweets.
Which bless my own country!
Oh, stay not long when I am gone;
Come over soon to me:
You're welcome where the blest onos are,
Come to my own country!
Earth’s flow’rs may bloom awhile for some*
But never more for me 1
The sun is low, and I must go
Homo to my own country.
—£?. W. Kettoman in the Current
HUMOROUS.
A foot rule—Don’t wear tight shoes.
Another washout—On the clothes line.
Desirable quarters—Twenty-five cent
pieces.
The century plant—Burial of Wash¬
ington’s body servant.
A button on the coat is worth two in
tho church contribution box.
Singers arc the only people who wish
to hold a note for a long time.
It is not considered necessary in society
to return a bill collector’s calls.
Brakemen will be sorry to learn that
“trains” are to be made unusually long,
The Boston girl never says “it is rain¬
ing pitchforks.” She says “it is raining
agricultural implements.”
It , lsod tfl l)9 «g P0 that my grave’s
kept green.” Tin new aud popular ver-
8 ; ouis . ., Qh kecp my ^ hottkd.
love -„
*
*
ring.” ' shot^B
A Ghi-ag-. landlord li^H
boarders for joking about
His interference was unnecessary.
said tlic butter was strong enough to taka
its own part.
“Aud now, my dear brethren, what
shall I say more?” thundered the long
winded minister, “Amen!” came in
sepulchral tones from tho absent-minded
deacon iu the back of the church.
“What’s your business?” asked tho
judge of a prisoner at tho bar. “Well,
s’pose you might call mo a locksmith.”
“When did you work last at yoifr trade?”
“Last night; when I heard a call for the
police I made a bolt for the door.
Little Willie refused to put on his
shoes the other morning, and when his
mother urged him to do so, lie said with
aft eager expression on his childish face,
“Mamina, did you not toll mo that God
was everywhere?” “Yes!” “We!!, if
he is everywhere, he must bo in my shoo
and I don’t want to step on him.”
Wife—Leave mo some money, please.
I am going to make a loaf of cake, and I
shall want a little change to buy some of
the ingredients, llusbaud—Half a dol¬
lar enough? Wife—I don’t know. I
am going to make it according to tho re¬
ceipt in the cook book. Husband—
H’m! Well, that makes a difference
Here’s aten-dollar bill!
There was a young lady in Bingham
Who knew lots of songs and could sing ’em,
But couldn’t mend hose
And wouldn’t wash clothes,
Nor help her old mother to wring ’em. 1-
The Wolf and the Kid.
A kid was one day browsing in a val¬
ley, while a shepherd reclined on a bank
hard by. Suddenly a wolf, with a hand
organ, came up and said;
“J; e ‘, m0 ^ amcrT ^ alr while y0U
da j
:< A1 rig h t) ” replied tho kid. “Fire
away- »
Tlio music began, and the shepherd,
^ith his fingers in his cars, disappeared;
and , IS sooq as he was out of his sight,tho
wolf seizcd the kid and devoured it.
Moral: This fable teaches the varied
powers of music.— Life.
Sealed.
Father—'You and Kate Carter
come to an understanding, have
WL, Father—Sealed it with a kiss—eh,
boy?
.in -with ....
.refusal.— Till Bits.