Newspaper Page Text
THE CHEHKE ADVANCE.
VOLUME V.
•'EXAMINE HOW YOURJ1UMOR 18 INCLINED, \ND WHICH TIIE RULING PASSION OP YOUR MIND."
CANTON, GEORGIA. THURSDAY MORNING. MARCH 6, 1884.
NUMBER 10.
THE CHEROKEE 4DVHHCE.
PUBLISHED EVERY THUR8DAY
—bt—
BEN. F. PERRY, Editor Bad Proprietor.
ttjlce up-stairs, oor. West Marietta and Gains-
mile Streets—near Court House.
OK FI Cl A I, ORGAN CII BROKE* COUNTY.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.
Per Annum in Advance, $1.00
If payment is delayed 1.25
t&TAdvertising Rater extremely low,
to suit the times.
TjkgaTj advertisements inserted and
rhnrgad for as prescribed hy an act of
tho General Assembly.
Advertisements will he run until for
bidden, unless otherwise marked, and
charged for accordingly. All considered
due after first insertion.
All communications intended for pub
lication must hoar .the name of writer,
not necessary for publication, but os a
guarantee of good faith.
Wc shall not in any way he responsible
for tho opinions of contributors.
No communication will he admitted
into our columns having for its end s
defamation of private character, or in
any other way of a scurrilous imi>ort of
public good.
Correspondence solicited on all points
• >f general importance—hut let them be J
briefly to tho point.
All communications, letters of tnisi-
iiese, or money remittances, to receive
prompt attention, must be addressed to
HEN. F. PERRY, Canton, Ga.
P. O. Drawer 49.
Professional and Business
Cards.
W. V A G. I. TEASLEY,
Attorneys at Law,
- CANTON, GEORGIA.
Will give prompt attention to all busi
ness intrusted to them. Will practice in
all the courts of the county and in the
Superior Courts of the Blue Ridge cir
cuit. jan3-ly
C. D. MADDOX,
ATTORNEY AT S/AW,
CANTON, GEORGIA
Refers by permission to .Tohu Hilvey A
Co., Thoa. M. Ciarke St Co., James R.
Wylie and Gramling, Spalding St Co., all
of Atlanta, Ga. janl-’88-ly
GEO. R. BROWft,
ATTRONEY AT LAW.
Will practice in the Superior Courts
of Cobb, Milton, Forsyth, Pickens and
Dawson counties, and in the Superior
and Justice courts of Cherokee.
Office over Jos. M. McAfee’s store
Special attention given to the collec
tion of claims.
Business respectfully solicited.
[janS-’SS ly.]
h. w. NBWKAN.
JNO. D. ATTAWAT.
NEWMAN & ATTAWAY,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CANTON, - - - GEORGIA.
Will practice in l^e Superior Courts
• f Cherokee and adjoining counties.
Prompt attention given to all business
placed in their hands. Office in the
Court House. [jau8-’83-ly j
P. P. DuPREE
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
CANTON, GEORGIA.
Will practice in tin Blue Ridge eir
cuit and in Cherokee county. O/Tic" in
the Court Houae with the. Ordinary.
Administrations on estates.
f9*Co lections a specialty. TS8
BEN. F. FEHRY,
AUENT
FIRE AND LIFE INSURANCE CO.
Office with Cherokee Advance.
EARLY MORNING SCENE.
You may talk of moonlight scenes,
Where fair Lana's mellow beams
Bathe with soft, translucent splendor, vak
and hill;
Bat, if oa some autumn morn,
When the day is newly born.
Yon will look, you’ll tee a sight rnora love,
still. < x
On fair Mleeiasippi's hank,
Whore the grasa lay dark, and dank,
At the early morn I lately took my way;
All around was hushed aud still,
Heavy fragrance seemed hi All
The soft air, and usher, in approachln
day.
In deep silence vast, profound,
All things earthly seemed then bound,
And 1 sliud'ring, held my breath in drea
and fear;
Ghostly llgurcH gray, and slow,
Seemed to hither, thither, go,
Drawing every Instunt nearer, and moi
near.
But iu scarce a moment's time,
Aye. before tho church bell’s chime
Could have struck tho hour of day that no
Imd come;
There arose a mnmr’ring breeze,
And a rustling in the trees,
That sounded liko a tiny muffled drum.
And far in the east was seen
A shade of roseate gleam,
And the ghostly shadows vanished froi
my sight ;
And another moment’s space,
And such wondrous change took place,
As the greatest poet’s i>cn could nets
write.
For. behold ! the scene so gray,
llad hv magic passed away,
And the earth til alUts pristine glory ahon
As it never shono before,
Since those old, old days of yore,
Uhcn in Ellen's vale sin no’er had cause
a moan.
Upon hillside, vale and dell,
The bright sun god's radiance fell,
Clothing every thing it touched with boaut
rare;
Till dame Nature’s brilliant dross,
Seemed embodied lovolincss
That no power In all the earth could mak
more fair.
Fvcry leaf, and blado of grass,
shino with ilia
By this great magician's glass,
Mas most quickly made to shi
monds bright;
And the foliage's hue
Autumn painted, hung with dew,
One could ne'er lielieve had known tli
shades of night.
Then talk not of moonlight fair,
For more lovely far, and rare,
Is the moment wlicu tho Day God comes t
view;
Faliy Angora paint the acone '
With rich colors, wondrous sheen,
And each •morning is transformed b
beauties new.
Stella M. N.
THE HAUNTED POOL.
BY DAVID KKR.
L. NEWMAN,
HOUSE & CARRIAGE PAINTER,
Paper Hanging and Calcimining,
Graining and Glazing.
alt, work guaranteed
Can be found a Warliek’s Shop.
[jan3-83-ly]
J. M. HARDIN.
ouae. Sign, Carriage
—AND—
ORNAMENTAL PAINTER,
FRESCO m SCENIC ARTIST ALSO.
Oriental and Gicciau painting. Mezo
min,, Carbo-Timiug, painting iu Se-
ii and India Ink. #
Tweutv-five per cent saved bv apply-
" to me before contracting with others.
Material furnished at bottom prices.
Satisfaction given or no charges made.
Seo or address, J. M. HARDIN,
au3-’83-ly] Canton, Georgia.
The sun was sotting over the Ganges
one bright summer evening iu 1871*
The day had been a hot one even foi
India, and it was an unspeakable relic
to everyone when the scorching sun be
gaa to decliuo at lust, aud tho lengthen
ing shadows of tho tall palms along th<
lver-bank told that night was at hand.
And now the Hindu nilialntanta of tin
n&igliboring village, who boil been lying
motionless nil afternoon under the shade
of their reed-thatched roofs, or of tho
vast overarching banyan trees around
them, wuno trooping down to the water
in a body.
Instantly the whole bank of the great
river—so lovely and silent all through
the long, burning day—became all alive
with noise and hustle. Children pad-
died in the broad, still pools, or chased
each other in and out of the tall, feath
ery bamboo clump that grow along the
hank. Women filled their earthen
pitchers from tho stream, or washed
their threadbare clothes. Mon began
to scour their brass lotahs (drinking
vessels), or to kindle fires for the cook
ing of their evening meals; while a little
farther down the stream, a group of
young girls, wading out into the shallow
water, fell to splashing each other with
might aud main, amid shouts of merry
laughter.
To any one accustomed to tho ways ot
Lidia, it would have seemed strange
enough to see. upon the wrists and
ankles of nearly all the girls, and many
of their mothers likewise, heavy bangles
of solid silver, which any western lady
might have been proud to wear. But
the Hindu peasants, to whom savings
banks are utterly unknown, have no way
ot keeping tboir money safe except by
carrying it about with them iu this
fashion—a somewhat hazardous plan, it
must lio owned, in a country swarming
with the most expert and daring thieves
in the world.
Suddenly, one of the girls, who had
ventured a little farther out into the
stream than the rest, disappeared under
wtiter with a piercing shriek, as it
dragged down by some overpowering
r :orce. A few bubbles that rose sud
denly to the surface were the only token
of her fate, while her terrified com
panions turned aud rnshed back to the
shore as fast as possible, screaming :
‘ 1 A crocodile ! a crocodile !’’
Several days had passed before any
of the village women dared to approach
tho scene of this terrible mischance. At
length, one bolder than the rest, ven
tured iu again, aud the others, seeing
that no harm came of her daring, began
(o follow her example. More than 1
week passed without suv accident, and
every t iling was beginning to go on x>
usual, when, one evening, a second girl
disappeared in precisely the same miuim r
as the first.
The terror was now universal, and
the beat hunters of the village sot then >
selves with one accord to get rid of tin)
destroying crocodile. Baits were laid,
traps set, men pitted along tho ban i
with loaded gnus to keep watch for th
monster; but, look for him as the*
might, nothing was to lie aeon of him.
Several days later the wifs of one c.<
the villagers was washing her whit-
wrapper on the bank of the river, when
it slipped from her hands and floated
slowly out into the wide, still ^pinjJ
forified by the bend of the stream. Tho
woman at once waded after it, and had
just Succeeded in clutching it, when she
was seen hy those on the hank to give
u sudden start, throw her arras convul
sively into the air and disappear under
inscription. But at the first glimpse ot
the poison who entered his face cleared
at onoe.
The visitor was a tall native, with the
haudsome features and stately hearing (T
a Mahratta. His figure, nearly six feet
in height, was so gaunt and sMkswy tin t
it seemed to be mode ot pin-wire, and
his piercing black eyes looked out from
beneath the folds of his white turban
with the quick, keen, watchful glancoof
a practical hunter.
In truth, Ismail, the Mahratta, was
well used to traoking other game beside
deer or tigers. Over aud above his ot*
oupatiens ns soont, hunter and goverr -
meut courier, ho was in constant re
quest as a detective, and, for tracking
down either a wild 1 least, or s criminal,
ho had no cqnnl iu Bengal.
Gliding ltito the room as noiselessly n.«
a shadow, he made a low salaam, and
snid in bis own language :
"May the humblest of his servants
speak to the Sahib?” (master).
There was nothing particularly hum
ble, it must ho admitted, in the speak
er’s heariug; ou tho contrary, he held
water just os the other t wo had done be.
fore. ^
’ * * ‘ * * * • *
About three days after this last catas
trophe, Mr. Henry Sparks, the British
Commissioner for the District of Jung-
leywallah, was at work iu his oflloe amid
a perfect niouinl of papers, halting every
now and then to wipe his streaming
face (which, despite the numerous
punkah, or swinging-fan, worked hy his
native servant outside with a cord
passed through a hole ill the wall, looked
very muoh like a hnlf-uicltod snowball),
when he was suddenly disturbed by a
knock at the door.
"Come in !” cried ho snappishly, ex
pecting tho eutranco of some Hindu
farmer or peasant with a complaint ns
long and unintelligent as nil Assyrian
himself erect, and looked the Commis
sioner full iu the face with the air of a
mau who knew his. own .value, aud had
something to tell which lie felt to be
worth hearing; but Mr. Sparks, with
whom Ismail was an old acquaintance,
appeared to understand these signs per
fectly, aud said ;
"What lins Ismail to tell? I am lis
tening.” ,
“I have been at the village of Ram-
ganj,” answered the Mahratta, laying a
stress upon tho Inst word.
"Ramganj?” echoed Mr. Sparks.
“Ah, to he sure; tho place where thut
crocodile’s been eating up so many peo
ple.”
“Are yon quite gure, Sahib?” asked
the Hindu, keenly watching the effect of
his words, “that it was a crocodile that
did it?”
The Englishman started, and looked
fixedly at Ismail’s immovable face.
“That’s how I heard the story told,”
rejoined he. “If it wasn’t a crocodile,
what was it?"
“Did the Commissioner. Sahib,” In
quired Ismail, “ever hear of a crocodile
being so nice in liis eating as to devour
none but women, and only swell women
as had plenty of silver bangles on ?”
Again Mr. Sparks gave a slight start,
aDd tne sparkle of liis eye showed that
he was beginning to guess the riddle,
but he took enro to make no iutemip-
tiou, seeing that Ismail wished to have
the pleasure of telling the whole story
himself.
“I went to the village,” continued
Icmail ; “and talked with the people.
Then 1 dived into the river (my lord
knows that I can find my way through
water as well ns through thickets), and
at the bottom I came upon a noosed
rope.
The Commissioner nodded with the
air of a man who understood the whole
affair perfectly, but still he said nothing.
“The Salnb understands how it was
done,” proceeded the Hindu. “When
any woman worth robbing went into the
water, the noose tangled her feet, aud
the robber, hidden among the bushes
on the opposite bank, dragged her dawn
and drowned her, aud then plundered
the corpse at liia leisure.”
“I see,” said Mr. Sparks. “Well,
Ismail, yon know there’s a Government
reward of a thousand rupees ($500) for
every murderer brought to justice; sec
what you can make of the case. ”
The Mnhrntta’s black eyes flashed
lire, for five hundred dollars is more to
a Hindu than five thousand to a white
man, and such a chance did not come
to him every day. He went out without
a word, hut Mr* Sparks felt satisfied
that there would lie news of the criminal
before long.
Ismail plnuged at onoe into the sur
rounding jungle, and traversed it at a
pace which few men oonld have kept up
over such ground and in such a climate,
till ho came In sight of Ramganj, hut in
stead of entering the village he struck
down a by-path to the river, swam
acrosa, went slowly np the opposite side
till he came to two ham) too-clumps close
together, and groping in the water be-
side them, pulled np a rope,
had liia reasons for what he did. Then
placing the stoue iu tho shallow water
with the sharp side uppermost, and the
rope lying right across it, he vanished
into tho thicket.
An hour had passed sinoo his disap
pearance, and mgnt Had already set iu
when a dark figure came creeping up to
tho same 8|»ot, and pulled at tho half-
severed cord, whioh instantly parted iu
his hand.
The man started, aud held up the
broken ends to the light of tho rising
moon, but finding them rough and
frayed ns it by constant nibbing, and
feeling the sharp-edged atone lying just
beneath, he appeared satisfied that it
must have been an accident and knelt
down to knot the cord together.
So engrossed was tho villian with liis
treacherous work that he never lifted
his head to look around him, but even
had he been less preoccupied he would
scarcely have heard the noiseless footfall
of one who bod keen tracking the tiger
and the antelope through their native
jungloe ever since he was ten years old.
I The rogue was still quite unsuspicious
Vf harm, when a tall, shadowy figure
ufiai h~bkul 'Airc as suddenly as if it had
sturted np through the earth, aud a
tremendous blow from a heavy bamboo
olub falling upon his bowed head like a
thunderbolt, felled him senseless to the
earth.
That very night tho crestfallen robber
was sent off to the nearest British sta
tion, escorted by a strong guard of na
tive policemen, to lie tried and executed,
as ho deserved, while Ismail received
fr<«n tho hands of the Commissioner
himself, together with a warm commen
dation of his shrewdness, the thousand
rupees which lie had so well earned.—
Our Continent.
Up Hie Bowery.
The Bowery, in Now York city, is a
street, and nothing more, bnt wliat a
street I Hliops, saloons, restaurants,
concert halls, theatres, museums, pawn
brokers, pistol galleries, dives aud dens,
all of cheapest shoddy, liko tfifl clothing
displayed for sale by tho Hebrew dealers
there; galvunized, like tho flashy jewelry
seen iu tho windows and on the people.
It is the Broadway of tho rough ele
ments of the city; the Champs Elysees
of the poor aud criminal classes; tho
Boulevard dos Common place for the
“low down” of all nations. An hour’s
walk will curry one through it, and tho
faces and costumes met will represent
every clime und country—landsmen aud
seamen, hoodlum and Chinaman, Indian,
African, Turk and Norsemuu, bunko-
man, roustulxmt and tramp. They all
fall into the miscellaneous and conglom
erate society, the tendency of which is
ever downward. Iu early times it was
called Bowery lane, but tho dingy lamp
posts now lieur the single word by which
it is known and spoken iu every tongue
—“Bowery." It is sleepiest when tho
light of day is brightest, aud rises to a
wilder wakefulness as midnight up-
proaches. It has its daily ebbs and
flown, aud the tide of sin is highest when
tho sacred Sabbath is ueareffip Then the
discarded of earth issue into dim view
under the shadow of night, iu this
waste-basket of the human family.
A LITTLE rn.QRIti.
which 1 cannot t.'ll. It wu picked np bjr an ol
man In nir district, much worn; he rasa it, and
« till (lull's blcr.lliK, it did him real good. Ho read
it to • ilriiiK woman, end through It oh* (U led to
tlic savior. It came Into my hernia, and I had it
■•Hilled, and ll'l.uni copies hare already been oirrn-
laird. Many i Icaaaut letters liayo Wen sent me,
tolling glad tidings of Ita iiaofnlncHa. "Not by
might, nor hy power, but by uiy Spirit, aalth the
Lord ot Hoata." J. lias — '
ssia. |
Printers at Work.—“They get to
gether iu little knots and talk about
‘fr.t and lean,’ just as though they
worked in a packing house among the
hams and bides. Then the ‘tak^s,’
w hatever that is, are too big or too little,
and they ought to have been set in
‘brevier,’ or ‘minion,’or‘nonpareil,’or
‘agate,’ which I have found out means
type of different sizes. They talk about
‘the ad man’ and. the ‘bonuses,’ und
seem to regard that fellow us a monster
into whose insatiate maw everything
good falls, while to them come only the
crumbs from his table.—Man About
Town.
Iris conteuded that nude iu art is a
great educator, but the uiule iu life is
lined $•_’ for tuking n swim off the docks.
One summer'* evening, ere the ran went down,
When oily men were hastening from the town,
To reach their homes—eome near at band,
some far,—
By Knot ting train, hy nmuihue or oar,
To he beyond the reach ofolty din,—
A train-ear stopped, a little girl got In;
A cheery looking girl, nearer four years old;
Although not atiy, her uianucrM were not bold;
Bnt all alone I one sraivu could understand.
Hhe held n little linnelo in her hand—
A tiny handkerchief with corners tied,
ftnt which did not some bread and butter hide)
A nat In scarf, so natty and so neat,
Was o’er her Hhouldrrs thrown. Hho took her
sent,
And laid her bundle underneath her arm,
Anil smiling prettily, hut vet so calm,
Hhe to tho porter said, “May I lie here?”
He answered instantly, “Oh. yea, my dear."
And there she seemed inclined to make her
stay,
Whilo once again the tram went on its way*
Tho tall conductor-—over six feet high,
Now soapned the travelers witli a business evo;
But In that eye was something kind ami mild,
That took the notire of the little child.
A little after, aud the man went round,
And toon was heard the old familiar sound
Of gathering pence, and clipping tickets, too—
Tho tram was full and he had much to do,
“Your fare, my little girl.” at length lie said.
Hhe looked a moment, shook her little liend,—
“1 have no pennies; don't you know," said she,
“My fare Is paid, and Jesus paid for me?"
He looked bewildered—all the people smiled;
“I didn't know; and who Is Jesus, child ?”
“Why, don't you know He onoe for sinners
' died.
For little children, and for men beside,
To make ns good and wash ns from our sin;
Istthis His railway I am traveling in?”
“Don’t think it is! I want yonr fare, you know.*
“/ told you Jenus patd it long ago:
“y mother told mo Just before she died,
That Jesus paid when He was crucified;
That at the cross His railway did 1« gin,
Whioh took poor sinnera from a world of sln|
My mother said ids homo was grand and fairt
I want to go and see my mother there—
I want to go to heaven, where Jesus lives,
Won't you go too ? My mother said he gives
A loving welcome— shall wo hi' late ?
Oh, let us go before ho shuts the gate:
He bids us little children conic to Him.”
The’ poor conductor's eyes felt rather dim,
He knew not why 1 — lie fumbled at Ids coat,
Aud felt a substance rising in his throat.
The people listened to tho littlo child.
Home were in tears—tiie roughest only smiled,
And someone Whispered as Uiey looked amazed:
“Out of the mouth of Jiabe* the Lord ie
praised."
“I am a pilgrim,” said the little thiug;
"I’m going to heaven. Mv mother need to sing
To me of Jesus and Hia Eatlier’i love;
Told me to meet her in His homo above,
And ao to-day when aunt went out to tea,
And looking out I could not father see,
I got my bundle—kissed my lit tin kit,
(I am »o hungry—won't you have a bit?)
And got my hat, and then I left my home,
A little pilgrim up to heaven to roam; *
And tlien yonr carriage stepped, and I oonld see
Yon looked so kind. I saw you beckon me,
( thought you must belong io Jesus’ train.
And are you Just going home to heaven again ?"
'I lie poor conductor only shook Ids head:
Tears in liis eyes (lie power of speech had
fled.
Had conscience hy her prattle roused his fours
And struck upon tho fountain of Ids tears,
And made liis thoughts ’in sudronfusiou whirl;
At last he said, “Once Ida litle girl,
1 loved her milch; she was my id lie pet,
And with great fondness I remember yet
How much she loved me. Hut one day she
died.''
“She's gone Iu heaven," the little girl replied;
“Hho's gone to Jesus —Jesus paid her faro,
Oh, dear conductor, won’t you meet her tliero?”
'Hie poor conductor now broke fairly down-,
lie could have borne the harshest look or
frown,
lint no one laughed; hut many sitting by
Beheld the scene with sympathetic eye.
lie kissed the child, for'she Ids heart had won,
“I am so sloepy,” said llie little one,
“If you will let me, I'll lie hero and wait
Until your carriage comes to Jesus’ gatp;
He sure you wake me up. and pull my frock,
And at tne gste give just one little knock!
And you'll roe Jesus there," The strong man
wept 1
I could hut think as from the cur I stept,
How oft a little one has found tho roan.
The narrow pathway to that blest sImmIo,
Through fuitli in Christ lias read its title clear.
While learned men remain iu doubt and fear.
A little child ! The Lord oft uses such
To Inoak or bend, the stoutest heart to tonoh,
Then hy His Spirit hide the conflict cease,
Anil once for ever enter into peace.
And then along the road tiie news we laiar,
We’re going lo heaven—that Jesus jxiul our
fare ' Dickie Hhymkb.
The Needy.
A novel way of aiding the needy hut
jiwt been put in operation in Baltimore.
It in the “Provident” wood-yard, where
men who nro willing to work can Haw u
cord of wood for fifty cents. At present
the place in far too small and arrange
ments are making to enlarge it. Strange
to any, not one tramp hast yet put in an
uppeurauco for work. Tne applicant**
are all restdents of that city who have
been thrown out of regular employment.
One of the applicants recently was an
old gray haired man, fully eighty veara
of age. He wan one of the first to finlnh
hi« aligned labor, aud went off rejoicing
wilh his half-dollar.
“Yes,” said young Mr. Tawmus, “I
shall leave town. I think Mr. Soaw-
cham is going to cut me out with Sylvia,
and if I leave town I'll make it appear
that site only took up with him because
I had gone. I know how to take cate
of my reputation.”—Boston Post.
In going through a tunnel it is rea
mean for a passenger to kiss the back
of his hand with u loud, resotmdiug
amuck. When daylight is reached it
causes the oilier passengers to eye each
other with painful earnestm-ss and dire
suspicion.
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS
WHAT WB FIND IN THK.H TO
(IV KM.
#n BOIJDAT ROBB.
Hoar the youngster with hia horn,
Horrid horn 1
Mow its dreadful dissonance affrights the soal
of morn 1
How iti direful toolings poor a
Flood of most unseemly sound
In the sura of sweet Anrora,
A* she rises with a bound,
Drivon by a nightmare's urging,
Ou the wreck of rcaeon verging,
Wildly gazing all around
At tho boya who wake tho horror* that so dole
fully are born.
In the chandler* of tiie horn,
Horn, horn, horn—
In the dark and dismal caverns of the horn I
Hear tiie hooting of the horn.
Wretched horn I
How ita harsh, discordant note awakes onr hate
and scorn 1
„ How its dreary monotone
Turns the eofteet heart to atone—
Worse than any parrot's shriek,
Worse than any Chinese gong,
Drawing onrsee from tiie strong,
Drawing prayers from the weak
As they listen, all amazed,
Nearly erazed.
lUifhlessly and roughly from their sweetest
alnmhcr* torn
By the tooting of tiie horn,
Horn; horn, lioru—
By tiie hooting and tliet noting of the horn t *
Hear the screeching of the horn,
K.ndlese lioru t
How a happy holiday can make ns all forlorn 1
llow tiie horn's incessant waiting,
Every ear at once assailing,
Koi ces victims to Implore
Just a chance to do some shooting,
Aud to stop Ita tireless tooting
Evermore I
How the doings of the antio
Youngsters hourly drtva us frantie,
Handing ns to seek relief in Juice of grape ot
oorn
From tiie screeching of the horn—
Horn, horn, horn—
From the endless screaming of th* teeming
horn !
—Keys York Sun.
li
A little girl, traveling abroad, took tip
a French humorous paper, and having
-een a gentleman of the party, who
understood the French language, laugh
when hia eye reached a certain place ia
column, she, too, threw beck her head
tnd laughed appreciatively.
“Pot," aald her brother, tauntingly,
“you don’t know French enough to
understand that paper. What are you
laughing at?”
“Well, I guess 1 know a joke when I
see it," retorted his small sister, prompt*
ly, greatly to the amusement of those
who were listening.
AT TUB FROTOOtUPmm'S.
Photographer—“Chin s little higher,
please. There, that is better. Look at
that nail.”-.
Customer—“Which one?”
Photographer—“That big nail near
those two little ones. Yonr head is
turned again. Press it back against the
support. There, that ia bettor. I am
all ready now. Keep perfectly quiet
and asaume a cheerful expression.”
Customer—“Beg pardon, but I forgot
to ask what you are going to charge me
for these photographs.”
Photographer—“Seventeen dollars;
now look pleasant.”
■on other ran.
An Austin attorney, who had many
times sent away an impecunious alien t
with equivocal answers regarding hia
ease, was one day disturbed under a
press of business by tbe aforesaid client
walking into his office.
“Yon here again,” said the lawyer,
impatiently.
“Yes,” answered the olieni “You
told me to come back another time.
“Well, then,” replied the attorney,
“I didn’t mean this time, I meant some
other time. ”— Christian at Work.
OROBOX WASHINGTON SMITH.
A well-known citizen of Detroit was
walking up Woodward avenjm one day
last week when lie saw an old, colored
man in advance of him who frequently
did chores in his family. Wishing hia
norvioea the gentleman called to him in
a voice that demanded attention :
“George!”
There was no answer, not the slightest
indication that the old darkey heard
him ; so the gentleman called again :
“George Washington !”
Not a glimmer of recognition; the
gentleman knew he was right in the
individual and was quite sure of tbe
nomenclature, but he thought he would
make another attempt.
“George Washington Smith!”
The old man turned quickly, grinning
with recognition.
“Yes, salt, that’s me, sah.”
“Why didn’t yon answer me before ?”
asked the citizen, indignantly.
“Bow’d I know, sah, dat I’s the
gentlemau yob wanted ? I never answer
to no front name, sah ; dere mout be
another Gawge Washington, bnt when
you put de Smith to it, dat settles de
pint, I’se all detention now, sah,” and
tiie old fellow I (earned with pleasure at
having settled an important point ot
etiquette to bis satisfaction.—fief rail
Prm Press,
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