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Vol. VII. New Series.
There are considerably over 00,000
persons confined nt tho present lime in
prisons in the Unite 1 States. This is
nearly nine times the number of prisoners
in 1850, so that, even making allowance
for increase in population, crime, or
at any rate punishment for crime, is
much more general now than then.
A prominent Ontario farmer claims
that lie has not made any money in four
years. The American cattle ranchos
prevent him from making a profit off of
stock, and the wheat region of Manitoba
can undersell him. There is a small
margin. ou horses, barley, cheese and
butter. But the Ontario farmers are
having a hard time of it and the Toronto
Mail recommends them to combine and
make an impression upon the law¬
makers who seem bent upon fostering
railroads and great corporations just at
present.
There is in Lucas county, Ohio, a
a Bible which was preserved by being in
a loaf of bread. It now belongs to a
Mr. Schebolt, who is a native of Bo¬
hemia, having been left to him be bis
grandmother. During the persecution
of the Bible readers in that country, all
Bibles were ordered to be delivered up
and burnt. Those who wished to pre¬
serve their Bibles contrived many d ffer
ent plans in orJir to save them. AVhen
the authorities came to the house of Mrs.
Schebolt it happen’d to be baking day;
when she heard them coming, she placed
the Bible, carefully wiypped in a batch of
dough, and stowed it away in the oven
to be baked. When the search was over
•and tho danger past, the book was
taken out of the loaf and found to bo un¬
injured.
Among the improveirunts at Mt.
Vernon made during the past year are
the restoration of the summer house by
'the ladies of Louisiana; restoration of
the old tomb by the ladies of Michigan;
a great improvement in I ho surface
drainage of tho roads through til'd use ff
terra cotta piping, making them always
dry; and the rebuilding of tho terrace
wall in front of the mansion. This last
has been a laborious and costly work.
The sons of the late Mrs. Robert Camp¬
bell, vice regent for Missouri, have
tilered to restore the deer park as it was
in the time of Washington, in honor of
their mother’s memory. A number of
new relics have been added to the col¬
lection, especially in the West Virginia
room, which is in charge of Mrs. Lewis
Washington, mother of William 1). II.
Washington, United States consul to
London, Ont. Among these is an
eye-glass set in silver which was used by
Washington, and a fragment of the
original collin in which Washington
was buried. In a glass case in this room
there is a black velvet suit of clothes
which Washington wore when in mourn¬
ing for his mother. Airs. Washington
will also send some engravings which
once belonged to Washington. The
Illinois parlor has been handsomely fur¬
nished, thanks to the energy and in¬
fluence of Airs. Loiter. The dining room,
which belongs to Alassachusetts, contains
the library, which is being re-collected
through the efficient aid given by AFer
Longfellow, of Cambridge, Mass.
Singed llair.
Singeing hair is the latest device o!
the barbers to draw a customer’s money,
said a tonsorial artist to a St. Louis
Globe reporter. I hear it is being worked
very successfully down East, I ut it lias
not reached this city yet. Singeing is
done either by red-hot irons or by flame.
The hair is held up in a comb as now in
cutting, and the ends are singed off. It
is a cU'tom that finds favor with those
who have a tendency to bald ties*. The
barber tells them that their hair is com¬
ing out. They get frightened, and then
he tells them it is caused by the oil of
the root escaping from the top of each
individual hair. If the patron admits
that gauzy s'atcmcnt the barber follows
it up with the remedy, which, of course,
is nothing more than singeing the top of
each hair. This, the customer is told,
will stop up the hollow by causing a hard
little knob to form at the end. That
sounds reasonable, and they take the
singeing. As each hair is left with the
frizzled end the entire head of hair looks
thicker, and the customer looking in tho
glass thinks his hair is really improving
under the singeing and getting thicker.
So he is happy, and nobody is hurt. But
the barber ought to be excused for this
little scheme. Tire trade is not what it
used to be. The dye business is almost
forgotten, although 20 years ago it was
the most fruitful source of revenue.
Then everybody bad bis beard or mus¬
tache dyed. Brownish or light whisk rs
were rare then. Everything had to be
Mack. It was 50 cents for five minutes’
work on the thinnest mustache, so the
profits could not help being great.
SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA. THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, J887*
The Hear Old Songs of Home,
O wheel mblimo of tireless time,
Tu n baeliwnrd in your flight.
Ring out the chime in fairy rhyme
Of boyhood’- music bright!
Like bells of joy outringing,
Tho.e memories old are clinging,
Now faint, now near again . hear
iln nccen'sclear where’er I roam,
My mother sweetly singing.
Singing,' sweetly singing,
The dear old songs of home.
Make me a boy, with boyhood’s joy,
As in the days of old.
AVhen ruddy blaze before our gaze
Went up in sparks of gold.
1 jo i the kettle swinging,
The shadows round it clinging,
Till o: co again in sw e refrain.
On laud or umii^, where’er I ream,
I hoar my mot hoc s nging,
t inging, sweetly singing,
The dear old songs of homo.
At tet of sun, when day was done,
Liko silver chiming bells,
Bo-eon tho air, with evening prayer
1 he song we loved : o well.
Still in my ear they’re ringing,
And memories old are bringing,
Like g title sh iwor, of boyhood’s hour,
Wiih Mihile power, where’er I roam,
Of mother sweetly singing,
Singing, sweetly singing,
The dear old songs of homo.
No time can bio', this fragrant spot,
This chime of silver bells,
But oft my heart w ith sudden start
The secret surely tells.
Then ’mid the glad hells ringing,
With holy thoughts upspringing,
Now faint, then clear, again I hear
In acc nts dear, where’er I roam,
My mother sweetly singiug,
Singing, sweetly singing,
The dear old songs of homo.
—[Fred E. Woods in Current.
BETWEEN TWO STOOLS,
Up at the hall there was a general
commotion. Air. AVestlcy, tho owner of
AVestlcy Grange, had come pretty nearly
to (ho end of his tether. He had but
lately succeeded to the estate, and it had
Conio to him very heavily encumbered;
and now, with reduced rents, irregularly
p id, he found it impossible to go on.
lie had, therefore, determine to spend a
couple of years on the continent, during
which time he hope 1 that the agricul¬
tural depression would pass nw,uy.
The cstabILhi”. mt nt the hall was not
a large one by any means for a country
bachelor squire, but it was larger than
he could afford to keep up under exist¬
ing circumstances. So one evening ire
called liis servants together and told them
how matters were with him, bidding
them seek other situations at on ce.
His personal servant, Ben Biggins,
was not included in the general dismis¬
sal, but was destined to accompany his
master abroad, Ben was one of those
men not unfiequently met with in this
country—a man who could turn his
hand to most tilings, though he might
be no good at any. The position he
held at AVestlcy Grange was a cross be¬
tween a valet and a gamekec’pcf^ but at
odd times lie had been known to cook
liis master’s dinner and make liis mas
tor’s bed. This was during a grouping
expedition on the AVclsli hills, but the
rumor of it ha 1 traveled to AVestlcy.
Ben was in high spirits when lie was
told of the journey in store for him.
“I’ll teach these foreigners a tiling or
two," lie said to tho cook one night; to
which she replied: "You bo very care¬
ful, Air. Ben, tlmt they don’t teach you
more than you teach them.”
“Them 1" lie cried; "them teach me.
AVhy, I could wallop tho lot of ’em, if 1
wanted to.”
“Then you mind you don’t want to,”
she answered,
“AVhy, you knows very well,” con
tinned B.n, “thnt I set your watch
a-going after Janies, the watchmaker,
had it a month, and couldn’t make
nothing of it; and It topped the blue
bedroom chimbly smoking, when the
smoke had nearly druv you all out of
the place.”
“Rubbish!” she said. “The watch
only wanted winding; and ns for the
chimbly, it smoked Inc use there was
a bag of straw in it. You needn’t crow
over them things, young man.”
Yes, there was a little ill feeling on
the part of the rook toward Ben. She
had claimed him for her own originally,
but Ben had fought shv; and latterly he
had been paying a good deal of atten¬
tion to Anna, the hotisi maid at the
rectory. Either fault alone, on Ben’s
part, would have made the cook some¬
what aggrieved toward him, but the
two combined were more than culinary
ttesli and b'ood could stand. Thus it
happened that her tongue had an access
of acerbity when moving at Ben.
Down at the rectory the commotion
was nearly us general. I he servants dis¬
cussed the situation from morning till
night, and Anna'receivcd many unpleas¬
ant jjor-i.
“Stick to you!” said the coachman;
“not l.e. Them sort never stick to noth¬
ing but their b.iccy. AA’hcn you says
good- by tp Ben, you says good-by for-t
ever, my lass." jg f
“He can please himself,” she saidj but
if he thinks I shall die broken-hearted
because he takes on with some foreign
girl, he’s very much mistook.”
“That’s always tho way with you
womon-folk. You talks as big as big,
and when it comes to, you doubles up
to nothing. There was that gal o’Bim
niond’s—her as kept company with thst
keeper fellow. Look how her br**ened
it out when they found lic’d left a wife
in Wales, and her died of consumption
in less than a year, , r ,
“But Ben and mo’s different,” said
Anna, “If lie’s not in earnest, no morn
aren’t I.” Which was perhaps,$ons©la
tory.
Tho time slipped rapidly by, and it
wanted but a day [ill Ben and his mas¬
ter should start for tile coutinent. That
night Ben repaired to the rectory, and
had a parting interview with Anna. Ilis
last words were: “You’ll not forget
me, Anna, while I’m parted from you?
I’m a-coming back for you some day.
Till then, lio river 1”
“Till what?”
“That’s a bit of French, my dear.
I’ve bin learning the langwidgo lately.
It’s something like ‘good-by,’ only more
so. Ho river 1’’ And so they parted.
In the course of a few weeks Ben and
his master were comfortably settled in
a small German village near Bonn. Tile
house where they bad made their home
was an old farmhou-tc that had once be¬
longed to a noble family, but was now
partly fallen to decay. It was inhabited
by the present owner, who carried on
the business of a small farmer and wine
grower. He lied neither wife nor child,
the domestic functions being super¬
intended, and in a great measure per¬
formed, by a sister. Naturally, there¬
fore, it came about that Ben and Frau¬
lein Schmidt were often in each other’s
company, and naturally also, Ben im¬
proved the occasion. I'”the Fraulein,
with womanly curiosity, asked about
tile Ilorr AVestlcy, Bou was careful to
explain to her that Herr AVestlcy was a
great baron at home, dwelling in a man¬
sion with marble balls and gilded ceil¬
ings; that he, Benjamin Biggins, was
the confidential companion of this said
great baron, and that, though he (Ben¬
jamin) now appeared in the role of a
servant, he had a remarkably good posi¬
tion among the gentlemen of his native
land. Anil the Fraulein would listen
with flushed checks and sparkling eyes.
Sometimes in the evening, before the
farmer had come home, as they sat to¬
gether by the house placo fire, Ben
would delight his listener with stories
of tho wonders of London. IIo had
spent a few hours there one day while
attending upon liis master,and he there¬
fore felt competent to describe its prin¬
cipal sights, and where his knowledge
failed his invention came to the rescue.
True, he mixed things up a little. He
got the National gallery and the houses
of Parliament under the same roof,
AYcstininster Abbey and tho Tower
within a stone’s throw of each other,
while the way to the Crystal Palace wss
over London Bridge, and up the river,
past Battersea Park. But this made no
diS n tica at all to his listener. Like
Dus lemoua, she drank in all liis de¬
scriptions—
‘ But still tho house affair s would draw her
thence;
AVhich ever ns sho could with haste dispatch,
She’d come again.”
All tiiis was, I fear, on Ben’s part, a
matter of calculation rather than senti¬
ment. That he wished to stand well,
for the standing’s sake, in the eyes of
his landlady, goes without saying, but
the standing well brought with it and
after it some advantages that were of
infinitely more value to Ben. There were
many things dear to Bin’s heart, but
none more dear than poached eggs and
hot buttered toast; and though those
were “not in the contract,” they were
almost daily incidents of Ben’s life. At
first, it is true, lie had not got on so
well with liis landlady, for notwith¬
standing the best intentions, neither had
been able to comprehend a word said
by tho other. Time, however, which
works wonders in so many cases, brought
amelioration in this, for Ban got a smat¬
tering of German, an 1 the Fraulein
[licked up a few words of English, and
from that time Ben was, to use liis own
expression, “a made man.” Though
n >t endowed with a large amount of
wisdom, he knew “which side his bread
was buttered,” and he resolved to keep
on good terms with the Fraulein, no
matter who else might be offended. And
the Fraulein herself grew really to
like the big, boastful Englishman,
anil did her best to make
both of her lodgers contented with their
temporary home. This was about the
position of affairs, when, si in ■ eighteen
months after they had left England, Air.
t
®01y told Ben he should soon bo rc-
5 frnisg. This was a sad blow to Ben.
[4 more poached eggs on hot buttered
tdnst, no more idle days. He told the
Fraulein what tho Herr had said, and
she, too, grieved. No morif'stories about
Lofidon; no m ire leaves from tho stately
genealogical tree; no more pleasant
eHning*.
4[And you must go?” she asked. “And
1 ti.d'Naevei' yon no more see?”
This set*him thinking. Why should
Rffgo back? And the thinking ended
in resolution—he would not go back.
It came out in words at the first oppor¬
tunity: “I do not mean to go back to
England, Fraulein, but shall settle down
irf,Germany, if I can get any work.”
“There is plenty of work on the
farm,” said the Fraulein.
; This did not altogether chime in with
JTsu’s view of life. Work was a thing
tribe endured, n' t courted. Plenty to
C ft and t: Iriyk, and nothing to do, was
Bin’s domestic creed. Still, lie could
Wrrk, and 11 t work very hard; and if
h married the the farm would
b'\ s good as his at once, and absolutely
li ssome day. He might do worse; he
fitted ho could do no better.
‘ I’ve had some news from home, Ben,
that ought to please you. Your old
Sweetheart at the rectory lias had a
qouplo of thousand pounds left her by
her uncle, the miller.”
“Two thousand poundsl” said Ben to
himself. “Two thousand poundsl AVliy,
that’s a fortune. Things is becoming
extremely complicated. I think I shall
po back with master.”
That night a letter was dispatchod to
1 ugland bearing on the envelope the
l - me of Afiss Anna Robinson at the rec
t 'ry, West ley, Shropshire. This was
t he letter:
"Aly IV'erest Anner. f ops this will lino
you ill good elm as it leaves mo at present.
My deerest Anner, it his n long time senso I
roto to yew, but their have In en so much to
do as I have no time. I hop this will fine
you in good held’^ray deerest Anner. Thi s
is a very quite plate, their is no sports nor
n ithink, I orphan sy, for deer old Engine an
the sweto faces, spechially one,I left behind.
4 ope to see, it soon, so no more at prasont
horn your trow lover, Ben,
rii -Whafc the Fraulein thought of it when
she heard that Ben had changed his
mind I hardly know, blit be made some
plausible excuse, I have no doubt, and
promised (to soothe her wounded feel¬
ings) that ho would soon return.
Once more at Westley. Tho firs
evening after his arrival Ben went down
to the rectory. Anna was out, but the
coachman was in.
“Yo’back again my lad! Yo’re just
liko a bobby, a-turning up when you
are not wanted.”
That was the coachman’s welcome and
Ben resented it.
“Perhaps if you don’t want mo there’s
some one else as does.”
“Then perhaps there’s two on ’em, for
I see two on ’em together not five min¬
utes ago.”
“Hey!” ejaculated Ben.
“As much hay as yo’ lilco, my lad.
wo gics it to the ’oases, and can spare a
bit for a donkey."
Clearly, there was no friendly feeling
on tho part of the coachman for Ben.
Then the cook tackled him. “You’ve
made a tine mess of it, Ben. Have you
heard what she’s had left her?'’
“Left hert’’ exclaimed the humbug.
“Yes, left her—two thousand 'pounds
and she’s going for it on Aton lay. It’ll
make them very comfortable.”
“Her and her mother,” suggested
Ben.
“Ho, ho, ho, ho!” roared tho coach¬
man.
“Hi, hi, hi, hi!” laughed the cook.
“Hee, hee, bee, lice!’’ sang tho
kitchen maid all in chorus.
“Her and her mother 1” and then they
went off again. #
“It’s very funny” said tho victim,
“but I don’t sco where the fun comes
in.”
“Don’t’e now? Then I’ll tell ycr.
Yo’re come back to make it up wi’ her
because vo’aii heard as lier’s got some
money. B it it’s bespoke already for
her and—her mother.”
Coachman, cook and kitchen maid
repeat chorus.
“I’ll not take it," said Ben, “from
no one’s lips but hers. Her said her’d
stick to me, and I’ve stuck to her, and I
expect hcr’ll stick to me, and that’s all
about it,”
“Then you can take it from her lips
now, Air. Benjamin,” said Anna, com¬
ing in at tho moment. “You never
wrote to me for more than twelve
months, though I wrote to you twice,
and then, when I had some money left
me, you sent me n letter pretending ns
how as you was very fond of me. Afore
you went away 1 said to the coachman,
If lie’s not in earnest, then I’m not iu
earnest,’ and that’s all about it.’’
"Never mind,” said Bun to himself
that night. “If one door shuts another
door opens,”
“Yes, tho door^Pns open when Ben '
got there, some six weeks after he had
left, lie entered the house with the air
of a master, pausing a moment to look
round on tho vineyards which would so
soon be his. Ho opened an inner door;
there sat Fraulein, busy with her needle
‘‘I am back again,” said lie; “give
me a welcome.”
‘‘Then you cau go back again," she
replied.
“Hut I am come to stay and work on
tho farm."
“The farm does not want you, noi 1
do I," she answered.
Then Benjamin waxed furious. He
called her fickle and unkind, told her
that no good could come to a double
dealing person, and loft her w'th the
somewhat double-edged remark that “A
bird in the hand is worth two in the
bush.”
I think I ought to explain tho Frau
lcin’s behavior. The old cook at West
ley wrote to her to warn her against
“that presumin’ villun." — [Cassell’s
Magazine.
The “Born-Tired” Man.
The fellow who was born very tired
grew more and more weaiy as lie went
through the h ips and mishaps of child¬
hood, the adolescence of youth and tho
early period of manhood. At middle
age he was the tiredest man then living.
At fifty ho 'yes so utterly worn out with
tho simple process of existing that it oc¬
curred to him to calculate how many
breaths he must draw if he went ou
living for twenty years more, and, being
a man in fair preservation, there was a
good prospect of his reaching the nllot!c I
threescore and ten years of average man¬
kind.
Well, this tired citizen figured it out
on the basis of eighteen breaths a min
ulc, 1080 to the hour, 25,020 to the day,
9,402,280 fora year, and 189,342,800
for twenty years. The figures appalled
him, and lie died m disgust and discour
agemont at the tremendous task of doing
such an enormous amount of breathing.
—[Chattanooga Time*.
IVhero the Presidents are Hurled.
Tlio burial-places of our Presidents are
widely scali: , re l i“..,W«shingto.a jies at
Mount Vernon; the two Adamses are
buried under the old church,at Quincy,
Mass.; Jefferson rests at Monticello;
Madison’s grave is at Montpelier, not far j
from Monticello; Monroe’s remains lie in
the Richmond Cemetery; Jackson’s
grave is in front of his old residence,
“The Hermitage”; Van Buren was
buried at Kindcrhook; Harrison at
North Bend, near Cincinnati; Polk at
Nashville; Taylor's remains are near
Louisville; Fillmore lies in Forest Lawn
Cemetery, Buffalo; Pierce was buried
in Concord and Buchanan at Lancaster.
Lincoln’s grave is near Springfield,
Johnson’s at Greenville, Garfield’s at
Cleveland, Grant’s at Riverside and
Arthur’s at Albany.—[Washington L:t
ter. j
How Hie Japanese Go to Bed.
There is a great deal of difference in
the beds of different people. Our beds
are quite low, as you know, while French
beds arc so high that a step-ladder is
often provided for getting into them.
German beds are furnished with a feath¬
er bed to put over you, even in the
warmest weather. A traveler tells
about a Japanese bed. It is eight or so
thick silk wadded comforters piled upon
the floor; upon this a very ample wad- j
ded coat is placed. You slip into this
great coat, put your arms into tho long ;
sleeves fold it over and sleep. The pil¬
low is a block of wood placed under the
neck; but it feels too hard, and 1 carry
a rubber pillow to t ike its place. A
paper lantern is lighted nil night, for
tho people are much afraid of the dark.
Mechanical Effect of Steam.
Suppose we ta ;e acybndor, say a piece
of iron or brass tube, closed securely at
the bottom end and left open at the top,
and the area of the cross section to be
one square inch. In this tube place a
cubic inch of witer, an 1 over it place a
steam-tight pi too, lo which a cord from
tho centre should pass over a puilov hav
ing a weight lurig at the loose end,
just sufficient to balance the piston, then
we have a simple device for demonstrat
ing the mechanical effect of steam.
Umpire ami Strikes.
Mrs. Bigley—Aureiia, you had bettor
hide that milliner's bib, and I’ll try to
shave enough off the grocer’s bill to pay
it. Your paw is greatly worried over
his bu itiess affairs.
Aurelia—O, mnwl you don’t mean to
say he’s going to fail?
Mrs. Bagiev—I know nothing for cer
tain, but lust li ght ] heard him talking
in his sleep about being robbed by a
rann named Utnpro, and about going
out on strikes,-and I leitr the worst.—
Pniladolphiii Call,
NO. 2H.
Pew.
The slender spears are weighted down
With drops of dew
As ch !, t as if in dread array
Some ghostly crew.
Condemned to wander through the nig .it
For sins of many a bygone year,
"Bore down this grass with lagging s. -js,
. And left on every biado a tear.
Oil, listen not to fancies sad
That eoine at night!
Bnt wait to hear tho joyous tat.
Of morning light;
The fairies sportod here at eve.
And gentle Nature, bending down
To them in love and kindliness,
Roceired a gem from every crown.
*- —[Miriam JC Davis, in Current
HUMOROUS.
The rent estate dealer doesn’t want
tlicea^th; he is always trying to sell it.
The stockholder's motto: Man wants
but little here below—par.
The only man in business for himself
who ever strikes, is the pugilist.
lie—But I want to marry you. She—
Yes, that’s just where tho hitch comes
in.
Birds in their little nests agree. And
yet the yot ur ones sometimes fall
DUt.
Tho man who propels a wheelbarrow
sees his work ahead of him all tho
time.
When a man is 25 he kuows some¬
thing; when ho is 45 ho wishes lie kuew
something.
The Declaration of Independence was
signed on Friday. It was an unlucky
day—for England.
“The people like tyrants,” says a
magazine writer. Maybe that’s why
the people get married.
The sign “Beware the Dog” is not
hung up .. that he who nuts may read,”
|j U (, tlmt ho who roads may run.
“This was tho most unkindcst cut of
all,” sighed tho youth disconsolately,
as he gazed on tho misshapen trousers
which his tailor sent.
A certain cynical bachelor cn ,’t un
derstaud why it is women are called fair
creatures. They have boon anything but
fair to him, bethinks,
A t labprer in Vermont recently bought
a lot of laud which subsequently flcVei
oped into a very rich marble quarry.
His was a hard lot, but it had compen
gations
Bride (on shipboard at sea)—I feel so
sick, my dear, and if 1 should die and
they bury me here you’ll sometimes
come and.plant flowers on my grave,
won’t you?
“Don't be a fool,” she said, with a
snap, to her husband, “Why didn’t
you tell mo that when I asked you to
marry me?” he replied, and silence fell
upon that house.
“There is something in this little fel¬
low 1 like,’’said an appreciative visitor to
a young hopeful lie was Irolting on his
knee. “Now,” said the boy, “how did
you know I had swallowed a penny?”
it is a singular fact, but nevertheless
true, that when two young men meet
they address each other: “How nro you,
old man?” and that when two old fel¬
lows meet they say: “My boy."
“Johnny,” saida fond mother to her
bov, “which would you rather do, speak
French or Spanish?” “I would rather,”
said Johnny,rubbing his waist-band and
looking expressively at tho table, “I
would rather talk Turkey.”
One day tho children were having an
object lesson on the blue heron, The
teacher called attention to its small tail,
saying: “The bird has no tail to speak
of." The next day she asked tho schol¬
ars to write a description of the bird,
and a little girl wound up by saying:
“The blue heron has a tail, but it must
not be talked about.”
Tho Crow ami the Feasant,
A crow who was scratching up the
corn freshly planted by a peasant was
thus appealed to by the latter:
“Oh, foolish crow, but you do not
seem to realize that if you will leave
these few kernels of corn alone now they
will bring you far more than you can
eat in the fall.”
“Oh, that part of it is all right,” re
plied tho crow as he went for another
bill, “but live kernels of corn are
worth more to a hungry crow op the
spot than five bushels in tho future.”
Moral: A b iy’s piece of sweet cake
never grows larger by waiting.—[De¬
lro ; t Free Press,
- «i
A Boston Bootblack.
A traveler en route for Boston was
awakened by a cry outside of his win
clow,
“Podal teguments artistically illumin
nted for the infinitesimal remuneration
of five cents.”
“By Jove,” he said, “we’re there.”—
\Ncw York Sun,
