Newspaper Page Text
THE CHEROKEE ADVANCE.
1 EX AMI 51 HOW YOUR HI)MOB 18 IBOUNID, AMD WHICH TBB RULING PASSION OP TOUR MIND.'
VOLUME V.
CANTON, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, MARCH 13, 1884.
NUMBER 11.
THE CHEROKEE ADVANCE.
PUBLISHED EVERT THURSDAY
BEN. P. PERRY, I4lt*r and Praprleter.
0/lw iimAHti, oor. Waat Mmritila end (Join*
•iUc —near Court Houta.
OFFICIAL 0*0AN CHIBOUI COUNTY.
TERMS OP SUBSCRIPTION.
Per Annum in Advance, $1.00
If payment ia delayed 1-25
Advertising Rates extremely low,
to suit the times.
Legal advertisements inserted and
charged (or ae prescribed by an set of
the General Assembly.
Advertisements will be run until for
bidden, unleu otherwise marked, and
charged (or eooortlingly. All ooneidered
due alter first insertion.
All communications intended (or pub-
licntion must bear the name o( writer,
not necessary for publication, but as a
guarantee of good faith.
Wc shall not in any way be responsible
for the opinions of contributors.
No communication will be admitted
into our columns having for its ends
defamation of private character, or in
anv other way of a scurrilous import of
pnblio good.
Correspondence solicited on all points
of general importance—but let them be
briefly to the point.
All communications, letters of busi-
ness, or money remittance*, to receive
prompt attention, must be addressed to
BEN. F. PERRY, Gaston, Ga.
P. 0. Drawer 49.
Erol
lional and
Cards.
lusii
W. A. IG. I. TEASLEY,
Attorneys at Law,
CANTON, GEORGIA.
Will give prompt attention to all buai-
noss intrusted to them. Will practice in
all the oonrta of the county and in the
Superior Courts of the Blue Ridge cir
cuit. jan8-ly
MADDOX,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
CANTON, GEORGIA
Refers by permimion to Johu Sitvey A
Co., Thoe. M. Clarke A Co., James R.
Wylie and Gramling, Spalding A Co., all
of Atlanta, Ga. janl-’M-ly
THE OLDEST VHRfSThTA S HYMD
CEO. R. BROWN,
ATTRONEY AT LAW,
Will practice in the Superior Courts
of Oebb, Mil on, Forsyth, Pickens and
Dawson counties, and in the Superior
and Juatice courts of Cherokee.
Office over Jos. M. McAfee’s store
Special attention given to the collec
tion of claims.
Business respectfully solicited.
[jan3-’83 ly.]
H. W. NEWMAN.
mo. D. ATT*WAT.
NEWMAN & ATTAWAY,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CANTON, - - - GEORGIA.
Will practice in the Superior Courts
ef Cherokee and adjoining counties.
Prompt attention given to all business
placed in their hands. Office in the
Court House. [jen8-’83-l y ]
P. P. DuPREE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
CANTON, GEORGIA.
Will practice in tin Blue Ridge cir
cuit ana in Cherokee county. Offic • in
the Court House with the Oriliuary.
Administrations on estates.
MF*Co lections a specialty. "BWl
BUN. F. PERRY,
AGENT
FIRE AND LIFE INSURANCE CO.
Office with Cheboxee Advance.
tin Book III ol Clement of Al< *»n<lrl» iMTWen I
Gn-ek) the nioet .nelent hymn of *hf lrlmltl
It la there (one hundred ui<l fifty yam
rcn. It 1« thete (one hnmireu nity )
■the Apontle.) MeertcJ to be of much mrlle
orivln. The following vcnOoti will .We eorae Im
forfroi hie. of Its .pint:)
Shepherd of tender youth,
Guiding in love and truth,
Through devious ways;
Chri-t our triumphant King I
We oome thy name to sing,
And here our children bring
To shout thy praise.
Thon art our holy Lord 1
The Rll-sul>diiing Word,
Healer of strife
Thou dtd'st thyself abase I
That from sin's deep disgrace
Thon mfghtest save our race
And give na life.
Thou art wisdom's High Priest?
Thou hast prepared the feast
Of holy love;
And In our mortal pain
Mono calls on thee in vain,
Help thon doat not disdain,
Help from above.
Ever be thon our Guide.
Our Shepherd and our pride,
Our staff and song.
Jesus, thou Christ of God I
By the perennial word,
Lead ns where thon hast trod,
Make our faith strong.
So now, and till we die,
Sound we thy praisson high,
And Joyful sing.
Infants, and the glnd throng,
Who to thy Church belong,
Unite and swell the eong
To Christ onr King.
L. NEWMAN,
HOUSE & CARRIAGE PAIHTER,
Paper Hanging and Cololmining,
Graining and Glaring.
ALL WORK GUARANTEED
Can be found a Warlick’s Shop.
[jan3-83-ly]
Making Amends
Intended ler v Heelneee Men.
BT DC DIE WHITE.
J. M. HARDIN.
House, Sign, Carriage
—AND—
ORNAMENTAL FAINTER
FRESCO AAIIMKAIC ARTIST ALSO.
Oriental and Grecian painting. Mess
Tintin', Carbo-Timing, painting in He-
pei and India Ink.
Twenty-five per cent saved bv aDply-
’ug to me before contracting with others.
Material furnished at bottom prices.
Satisfaction given or no charge made.
See or address, J M. HARDEN,
[jan3-’83-ly3 Canton, Georgia.
“Christmas comes bnt onoe a year,”
yet when it comes it bringn—it brings—
useless expense—a day’s loll in business
—a laziness peculiar to all employees
for a succeeding week—an an wise ex
changing of gifta when the money is oft
needed for other and necessary purposes
—a harrying, scurrying, foolishly busy,
topsy-turvy people, wishing each other
a “merry Christmas” w jsy, wed en
deavoring, With a new vim, to rob each
other to-morrow. The streets, fall of
itinerant ware men, with their cheap,
trashy merchandise; leering, familiar
lieggars, with their alooholio “jiat a
penny for Christmas, air I”
A gorging of dyspeptio sweets and un
wholesome food — a—a—folly I folly I
that I, Phiueas Rugby, will omit year
after year, aa I have done since I arrived
to yean of discretion—bah 1 bah I Yes,
my name’s Phineas Rugby, Not a very
elegant one, yon think, for Phineas, ac
cording to the Hebrew, is “month of
brass.’’ Ha t ha I And Rugby—well, is
just Rugby, and one can’t Frenchify
that. But I like it—it suits me. I’ve
grown with it —lived and succeeded
with it.
Bnt it’s not a handsome name. Oh,
no I Pm not a handsome man. Bat,
some way, the little, uninteresting, bald-
hoaded, hawk-eyed proprietor of one of
the largest book-stores in a large city is
looked up to, is bowed to, for money’s
money, whether in a silk purse or s
greasy pocketbook.
If you Ipok closely at me you will see,
all over my face, many seams and scars,
that time alone did not imprint there.
One has to work hard, very hard, if they
would make money squarely and legiti
mately. Most of it brainwork, too, that
is ten times the more wearying than
real, downright manual labor.
Well, I know wliat it is to scrape and
pinch to pay expenses, oft going to bed
hungry and discouraged. It is, and al
ways was, cash down with me. I owed
nobody, and allowed nobody to owe me.
If I lived through it, others conld, and
must. I made no excuses, I listened to
none. And so, if this Christmas eve. in
ihe year 18—, I can sit in my own lodg
ing, knowing that I am the Phineas
Rugby, oi the prosperous house of that
name. I can say I have earned it,
Spent money, time, happiness, home
comforts and all to earn it. And yet-
are we ever satisfied.
it s Christmas to-morrow, Phineas, 1
t.ay to myself, watching the lighted coals
smoldering amid tho ashes in the grate,
before which I am sitting in gown and
slippers—Christmas to-morrow j and
Phineas, my boy, what is it yon have
done daring the past twelve months
that yon feel prond of this eve ? I guess
you haven’t thought of that before.
Let's see—let’s see—thumb. I owe
no man—first finger—no man owes me
-second finger. I, six months ago,
discharged my bookkeeper Jacoby,
’azy, good-for-nothing rascal — third
finger—I—I—I—well, I guess that’s all
Not much to brag of, hey, Phineas? So,
so—well, a good night’s rest, and to
morrow I will again be—Phineas Rugby.
Now to rouse that sleepy-iooking fire—
there, I hope I haven’t put it out I I’ve
to be careful of my old enemy, rheuma
tism, with his troop of inflammations—
and now—now for bed.
Bed’s the place after all, where one
can, ae Shakespeare says, “oouoh his
limbs whsre golden sleep doth reign.”
Feathers are restful, too(yawuingly), yes,
full of rest—full of rest. Full moon to
night on the wall opposite; I eon aee its
reflection. “The moon rises in olouded
majesty,” and what a plaoe for a magio
lantern.
When we were boya, how Bob and I
used to wish, and wonder if we evei
could raise money enough to buy one
and when we had the money we wanted
something else we couldn’t get. Bob’s
dead now, and I—why I see the moon
over my left shoulder, Wonder if one
can wish if the moon is full. I might
try. Let’s see—what do 1 wish. Yea,
yes, an idea I I wish I oould see objects
ind things on that circle opposite, aa I
lay here and take it easy—that’s an ideal
Am I dreaming. It can’t be that one
glass of porter I I sit np in bed—I take
off my nightcap—I pull my hair—pinch
myself—gaze helplessly forward, and
see where late had been a circle of pale
light. A room—small—mean—uninvit
ing—cheerless—cold. No carpet on the
floor, aave the little ugly green stripes
oefore a bed in one oomer, and the dark
flre-plaoe. Two cans bottomed chairs,
teeble os to legs, and paint of no known
oolor. A table, reminding one of the
Rebellion. A tin oandleetiok, a few
dishes, a much thumbed Bible on the
mantle shelf. A picture of a sweet-faced
lady, in on old-fashioned frame on the
wall, and no more.
A door to one side opens, and there
enters—a wee body, scarce ten years of
age, but anoh a prematurely aged ten.
Snch a wiaened faoo, hungry-looking
ten. Buoh a poorly elad, large head,
large eyes, shivering, puny-looking ten.
The head is good—I can see that, ideal
ity a little too marked perhaps. But
the hair is smooth, glossy and eurling.
He brings a chillneea within that even I
feel ae I pull the bedclothes closer up
about my neck.
Now the door is closed, and the faded
old straw hat and ragged scarf hung on
a noil. The basket, which he oarriea in
.*1 his -daw-like hands, set upon the
hearth, and he proceeds to remove the
lid, whistling all the time—actually
whistling, if that feeble little pucker of
those blue lips can be termed a whistle.
First there comes from this mysterious
basket two candles, then a box of
matches. The old candlestick is taken
down from the mantel, one of the
matches ignited, a candle lit and plooed
proudly in the center of the table.
Now he delvea down again into the
basket, and thia time two bundles of
wood llud a loaf of bread are brought
forth, liia (ace becoming perfectly
radiant as lie beholds them. He iB sing
ing now, over and over, “Won’t dear
father be surprised 1”
There is not muoh music in this little
aoug, yet there is a choked feeling in
the throat of Phineas Rugby that he
hasn't felt for years. What a busy little
muu he ia now, running to and fro,
building a fire, placing the most com
fortable-looking chair before it invit
ingly. Just putting tbe last finishing
touches on all as tbe door again opens,
and there enters—bless me, Jacoby I my
ex-bookkeeper I
“Father, father, see I” the boy cries,
aa he dances to hia father’s side, and
polls him down in the choir, “your
Christmas present from your little son !
I earned it myself—all myself. I’m
most a big man now, and we won’t be
hungry any more. Oh, father !”—his
arms clasped about hia neck, and his
tiny face close to the elder one—“ain’t
we pleased ?”
Jacoby says nothing; but tears, such
as I never knew a man oould shed, fall
on the dark curls of the little one. He
had changed a good deal in six months,
Jacoby had, and not for the better—
no, no.
“Phineas Rugby, take my hat and put
it where it belongB,” he says, after a
short and mournful silence; “then come
and ait on father’s knee an<l tell him all
about thia wonderful surprise. ”
“You see,” and tho little head is
pressed close to the faded great-ooat of
the man, “after yon went ont I was
thinking and thinking of the atory you
had just told me—of the good prince
that went ont in the world to help his
father, the king. And then I remem
bered mamma used always to give you
a Christmas present, and something
seemed saying: ’Go, Davey, go, go 1’
So I just put on my hat and that nice
warm scarf of yours, took the basket,
looked the door, and went out, just like
the prince, in the cold world. I was a
little ’(raid at first; but nobody noticed
me, and I hadn’t went very far when I
oome to a store—oh I the moat beantifnl
store, father, with two large windows,
all full of Bach nioe books and pretty
cards; and I was a wishing that yon and
I owned just such a place when I spelt
under the window on a sign P-h-i-n-e-a-s
—Phineas R-u-g-b-y—Rugby, and then
I knew it woe the place where you
worked when mother woe alive and we
had enoh .% nioe home. Aud Phineas
Rugby win the man who sent you away
Itecause you couldn't work when dear
mamma was dying.
"Just si *f yon oould help it”—kieeing
the hand about his ueok. “But I
thought perhaps he never knew what
was the matter when you didu't oome to
the store: and I was agoing iu to tell
him all About it, wheu a little, oross-
looking MilU came out aud told mu ‘if I
didn’t gqi away from the door in two
minutes.yhe would have me arrested.
“I km# you didn’t waut your little
hoy took np in tho bad station-house,
sol ran,, awsy as fast as ever I oould,
and imf-* standing on the oroming a
shivering a little—you see it waa getting
pretty <yld—when a kind lady asked me
to oarry lier satchel for her to her hotel
— 1 which was only a block away from onr
street, lather. And when I had done it
—and if waa awful light—she gave me a
whole twenty and five cents. Yon ought
to haveWeen me; I was that glad I near
forgot 1 waa a Prinoe, and cried. And,
bnt I didn't; I ran fast to the grooery
man and buy—now oonnt, father—two
candles, five cents; two bundles of
wood, flve eents; one loaf of bread, five
cents; one box of matohee, one oent.
How m.toh is that ?”
“Bix^en cents.”
“An.' here's nine for yon, right here
iu my docket, and ,it’a all my Christmas
present—all for yon.”
All is qniet for a minute; then Jacoby
says, huskily:
“K«vp the money for Christmas
sweets'! Davey. I wish I could add
more; bnt I have had no success; every
one asks for reference. Rugby denied
me tlu’t. Bat we won’t think of it to
night- -’Ha the bleeeed Christmas eve
ned God watehet over and will take care
of us, •( we only oak Him, Davey.”
A little figure slides to the floor eud
kneel. 1 with clasped hands, and reverent,
upturned face, and the prayer is an
swered aa it floats to me—miserable I re
penting 1
“Dour God, I’m only a little boy, aud
n to my father and Thee. But
ptsuf vi Mod. make Mr. Rugby see
father couldn’t hqto it, for Jesus’ sake.
Amen. ” ^
The room, Jacoby and little Davey I
now cannot see through my tears, and I
hide my head in the bedclothes and sob
like a child.
When I look up again, all ia changed.
A large store—hooka all about iu tlieii
gay, vari-oolored bindings.
Fancy Christmas and New Yenr cards,
fancy stationery—everything speaking
of plenty. There’s no one in the store
now, save three yonug olerks, and a
bookkeeper, perched on a high stool be
hind his desk.
Clerk No. 1. — “Most time for old
Rugby. Fly about, boys. Thank good
ness, a holiday to-morrow.”
Cierk No. 2. — “Yes, hurruh for Christ-
mas; lie can’t take that away from us.”
Clerk No. 1.—“I wonder if he wou’k
break his heart, this once, and give us a
quarter. Or, to be honest, he might
take us all out and treat im.”
* Bookkeeper (head hid in ledger).—"If
lie I lews you, Simpkins, he’ll treat you
to a grand bounce. The old miser!
When ho gets hold of a dollar it’s a pris
oner for life.”
Clerk No. 3.—“I’m willing to do my
duty every time. But it’s work, work,
from morn till night, with never a
‘Thank you.’ Never remembering we
are men os well as he, and a kind word
onoe in a while does a fellow as much
good as a dinner.”
*•*••*•
Early, Christmas morning, and I’m
up and dressed, a new man I “It may
have been a dream,” I say to the clock
striking the hour of seven, “but I’ll
never believe it. I’ve been a selfish,
mercenary, short-sighted man iu the
past, thinking of nothing tut making
and hoarding money, which never did
me or anybody else any good. I’m an
old man—I surely can’t take it witli me
in the other world. I haven’t, a kith or
kin to leave it to in this. Phineas
Rugby, wake up ! Look about you 1
There ia something in life after all.”
Merry Christmas to everybody.
Merry Christmas to all.
I’m in the street now, walking along
briskly; breathing in the fresh, effer
vescing air; humming to myself, drop
ping a penny here, a penny there iu the
outstretched palm of every beggar I
meet. Feeling like a boy let loose from
a rigid school, my feet so light, with the
very thought of what I have in my
mind—that they scarcely touch the
walk. I go into a poulterers. I buy
four large turkeys and send them, with
au envelope containing twenty-five dol
lars, to each of my clerks and my book
keeper—from the "old miser” (my little
revenge, I ehuokle).
I can’t spend money enough. Every
l>oy 1 meet that reminds me in the least
of little Davey, I take in somewhere
and buy him a turkey. Then I order
one of the best dinners that money con
procure to be sent to No. 10 Matks
Place, Jacoby’s and Davey’a home. (I
knew where they lived, I had kept on
eye on them, hut it had been a blind eye,
Phineas). And laden with all the pret
tiest books and cards I can get from the
store—my store—the store he thought
so beantifnl, I go to their mean house,
not to bo so any longer, if old man
riiiueas Rugby lived long enough to
ehange it
Hnoh ceremony aa knocking ou the
door, I forget hi my excitement ns T
burst in like a whirlwind—tearful, fool
ish—trying to lie merry, and fniling.
“Jacoby,” I say, "forgive me, I have
lieen an old fool—let’s—let’s—”
He has hold of my hand now, and I
hold the other one ont to little Davoy as
I w»T :
“Dnvey, my little man, your prayer is
answered. Mr. Rugby sees father could
not help it, and will make reparation,
for to-morrow morning the sign of
Phineas Rugby will make na a warm
fire, and in its place a new one shall liear
the names of Rugby A Jacoby—God
bless ’em."
“Christmas comes but onoe a year—”
“Yet when it ooraes it brings Uncle
Rugby,” saya Davey.
AN IRISH MIKI/N HER0I8M.
trluslna Is Nwmr PnUrly I* Have U’llia-
■rll’i I .lie.
The Dublin AVies publishes a letter
from Mr. A. M. Sullivan, who was one
of Patrick CDoituoll’a counsel, entitled:
‘•Hasan Gallagher, the Irish Jcaunie
Deans—on Episode of the O’Donnell
Trial.” Mr. Bullivou describes the con
nection of Busan Gallagher with the
killing of Jamea Carey, and argues that
the foots redound to the oredit of the Irish
peasantry. In this ease, he saya,
simple Donegal girl outrivaled the
Midlothian heroine in her anguish, sacri-
fiee, devotion and trathr Mr. Russell's
masterly and irresistible argument
proved a hundred oiroamstanoesand con
siderations in favor of Carey having
handled a pistol daring the tragedy.
Yearn ago O'Donnell separated from his
wife in Amerioa, While revisiting Done
gal, O’Donuell met Busan, who con
sented, under the representation thatabe
was hia sister, to accompany hint to the
Cajie, a here they intended toe marry.
When after he returned to England she
was questioned by Messrs. Pryor and
Sullivan, Susan stated that after leaving
Cape Town she sat listless, seasick, and
dazed in the steamer’s saloon on a
bench; and when Mr. Sullivan ap
proached tho oritioal point concerning
Carey’s pistol, Susan realizing the tre
mendous importance of the question,
suffered intense mental angniBli and
trembled like an aspen-leaf. Sobbing,
sho replied: “My back was iurnod
toward them, Sir. Oh, if I had only
turned round before t Ob, Sir, I waa not
looking tbe right way. I heard some
noire on the floor. It might have been
he shuffling of feet. It was a small
matter.” Mr. Snllivan adds: “Whc
could controdiot her if abe testified that
she beheld Carey with pistol in hand f
Or what oould be easier than for her to
decline that she heard the pistol fall."
In conclusion he says : “The people of
Tyroonnoll may olaim with pride the
humble heroiue of religion and truth,
Susan Oallagher, the Irish Jeanni*
Deans.” ^
How to Make a Bed.
Says the Philadelphia Preaa: Let
every bed-maker, as soon as all the
covers are spread, turn down the upper
sheet, and all above it, leaving a gener
ous margin below the bolster. Some
people, you know, pull all the covers
straight up to the top and lay the bolster
upon them, so that when bedtime comes
they must l>e rearranged at the head.
Boys don’t like this way, and perhaps
some other folks don’t either. It is the
custom to pile two big, square pillows
on the top of the bolster, and then put
on two pillow-shams, and then, some
times, or perhaps before the pillow-
shams, a sheet-sham. This is setting a
trap for the unwary. Only a remark
ably careful woman is equal to the task
of getting off all the “finery” properly.
Why not almost, if not altogether, abol
ish shams of all kinds. Why not hon
estly take off the big, square pillows
aud supply every bed with a comfortable
bolster to take the place of pillows? If
you like adornment, embroider or deco
rate the slips and sheets themselves
without any make-believe. Bilk, lace
and tho like seem out of place on a bed,
which should suggest repose. Imagine
a big boy with boots on flinging himself
into the midst of a fairy creation ol pink
satin and torchon ! Let beds be what
they look like, and let them look like
what they are—real resting places.
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WHAT WK FIND IN TIIKM TO LSOCU
OVKK.
why kb wonnren.
Doctor—“And how do you feel Urn
morning, my poor fellow ?”
Sufferer—“Muoh better in mont ways,
bnt I am afraid I won't mend vary fast;
I worry too mnob.”
Doctor—“You have nothing to worry
about. You will not lose any ol your
limlm and the railroad company eon ba
made to pay heavy damages.”
Sufferer—"I know that; but just think
of the humiliation I”
Dootor—“The humiliation!”
Sufferer—Yes; I wan always an*
sidered a man of energy end activity,
bnt now my reputation ia rained. Mo
one will waut to employ a mo* who we*
so lazy ss to get ran over by an aeoom*
modation train.Philadelphia (ML
AM INVALID.
“Your daughter has a touch at Ma
laria," said a physician to a New Yolk
lady. “I will oall again In tho mm*
lug."
The mother then want to her dough*
tor’s room with a look of great anxiety
on her (ace, and said:
“My doar, the dootor soya you have
malaria. What is it? Ia it dangerous
“Not very, mamma, and oh, it’s so
eristocratio I I will wear my blue ailk
wrapiier, and we must get some out glee*
bottles for tho medioiues, and if any of
the Snuffles girls call have them brought
to my room. It will take them dawn
a peg or two, I can tell yon."
And the sick young woman looked tha
very picture of liappineaa and oontant.—
Philadelphia Call.
MARRMD TWO WOMBN.
“Did you hear of that man down town
who married two women in on* Jay ?"
asked Fogg at the tea tabi* tha other
evening. “Isn’t it awful I” exclaimed
the landlady. “Do tell na all about it,
Mr. Fogg.” “Oh, there isn't muoh to
toll," replied Fogg; “you know him
well, "l kqow hiiu I the villain I"
shrieked the landlady. “Don’t say that,
ma’aui,” said Fogg, soothingly; “don't
say that. II was the Rev. Mr. Textual,
your beloved p.islor, mid lie wouldn’t
like to hear you talk so about him. And,
by tho by, ho married tho women to aa
two likely young follows as there are in
town.” Tho landlady says she never
could bear that Fogg,—Boaton TVss*
acript.
WHAT IT MUM*.
“I never saw a man who would pick
lip Ids clothes and put them where they
belonged,” growled Mrs. Edsell as she
slammed her husband’* pant* across the
back of a chair.
“And I never saw a woman who
wouldn’t,” replied nia niba, “and go
through all his pockets and sift ont the
best parts of his money and read all hia
business notes, aud ask what 16-19 31
meant on an insurance oompany’e mem*
orandum."
“I don’t,” said she.
“Yon do,” said he, and as he dodged
the hair brush he ran into Jene with
both hands full of coffee and aups and
then went out to bay hia breakfast at
some dining room.— Hartford Sunday
Journal.
PUCKEKING%
An msthetie tailor up-towH h« pointed
his wagon red and yellow for tha
autumn.
Yon can tell the exact age of a tree
by its rings; but this is not the oae*
vith a society belle.
Although tho postage is reduoed, a
woman will write her lettere jnst ee
closely, and put in as many postscript*
us ever. •
The opera season will shortly com
mence. It fills the book-keeper with
sorrow intense, to think of his girl and
the awful expense.
The man who owns an elegant hot
house, located next to a base-ball ground,
is not quite so nervous aa he was a
month or six weeks ago.
A turkey recently ate a string of am
ber beads under the impression that
each bead was a string of corn. No
moral goes with this style.
The Englishman who gets the most
lasting impressions of this country is
the British pugilist who undertakes to
stand up against John L. Sullivan for
four rounds. — Puck.
Jones asked his wife, “Why is a hus
band like dough?” He expected slm
would give it up, aud he was going to tell
her that it was because a woman needs
him; but she said it was because he was
Laid to get off her bands,
Habibs.—Writing of the strange cus
tom of Japanese children carrying
younger children on their backs,
a correspondent remarks : “You will
see scores of children at play, all carry
ing these burdens about (for you must
know the island swarms with babies),
slid, a-4 they rush along at breakneck'
speed, the head of the sleeping infant
may be seen waving in the breeze.”