Newspaper Page Text
THE CHEROKEE ADVANCE.
“EXAMINE MOW YOUR HUMOR 13 INCLINED, AND WHICH TUB RULING FA3*lON Ot MH R MIND."
VOLUME V.
CANTON. GEORGIA, THURSDAY .MORNING, MAY 15,1884.
NUMBER 20.
THE CHEROKEE ADVANCE.
PUBLISHED EVERT THURSDAY
—«Y—
11EN. F, PERKY, Editor And Proprietor.
OJjtCf upstairs, nor. ll>.<( Marietta ami Gains•
ride Shvets-near Court House.
oa'OuaIi oim;an ciiI'uokeu county'.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.
I>r Annum. in Advance, $1.00
If payment is deluded 1.25
WafAdvertising Ratos extremely low,
*to suit the times.'To®
Legal advertisements inserted and
( harped for ns prescribed by an act of
the General Assembly.
Advertisements will bo run until for-
1 addon, unless otherwise marked, and
(charged for accordingly. All considered
due after ltrst insertion.
All communications intendod for pub
lication must bear tho name of writer.
Je>t necessary for publication, but as a
[/uarantoo of good faith.
Wc shall not in any way be responsible
Tor tho opinions of contributors.
■No communication will ho admit!od
into our columns having for its end a
defamation of private character, or in
any other way of a scurrilous import of
iviltlio good.
Correspondence solicited on nil points
sif general importance—but let them bo
briefly to the point.
All communications, letters of busi
ness, ,,r money remittances, to receive
prompt "Mention, must, bo addressed to
BEN. F. FERRY, Canton, Ga.
1’. O. Drawer 49.
Professional and Busineaa
Cards.
W. A. & G. I. TEASLEY,
Attorneys at Law,
CANTON. GEORGIA.
Will give prompt n'tontion to nil busi
ness intrusted to them. Will practice in
sill the courts of tlio county and in the
Superior Courts of tho Blue Ridge cir
cuit. jnnil-ly
C. D. MADDOX,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
CANTON, GEORGIA
Refers by permission to John Hilvey A
Co., Thus. M. Olnrko it Co., James R.
Wylie and Grainling, Spalding it Co., all
of Atlanta, Ga. jaul-’83-ly
CEO. R. BROWN,
ATTRONEY AT LAWi
Will practice in the Superior Courts
of Cobb, Mil on, 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.
[jhli3-’83 ly.]
"A'OT LOST, BUT GONE BEFOllET
B- W. NK1VMAX.
JNO. D. ATTAWAY.
NEWMAN & ATTAWAY,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CANTON, - . - GEORGIA.
Will practice in tho Superior Courts
«f Cherokee and adjoining counties.
Frompt attention given t:> all business
placed in their hands. Office in the
Court House. [jan.3-’83-ly ]
P. P. DuPREE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
CANTON, GEORGIA.
Will practice in the Blue Ridge cir
cuit ana in Cherokee county. Office in
tne Court House with the Ordinary.
Administrations on estates.
B&TCo lections a special ty.-^Bfl
BEN. F. PERRY,
AGENT —
FIRE AND LIFE INSURANCE CO.
Office with Cherokee Advance.
My little child, with clustering lmlr,
Strewn o'er thy dear, dead brow,
Though in tho past divinely fair.
More lovely ait thou now.
Qod bade thy gentlo soul depart,
On brightly shimmering wings ;
Yet near thy clay, thy mother’s heart
All weakly, fondly clings.
My beauteous child, with lids of snow
Closed o’er thy dim blue eyes,
Should It not soothe my grief to know
They shine beyond tho skies ?
Above thy silent cot I kneel,
With heart all crushed and soro,
Wbilu through tho gloom these swcot wordi
steal:
“ Not lost, but gono beforo."
My darling child, these flowers I lay
On locks too fair, too bright,
For tho damp gravo mist, cold and gray,
To dim their sunny light,
Soft baby tresses, bathed in tears,
Your gold was all mine own 1
Ah, weary months ! ah, weary years 1
That I must dwell alone I
My only child I hold thco still,
Clasped in my fond emhraoel
My love, my sweot! how fixed, how chill,
This smile upon thy face !
The gravo is cold, my clasp is warm,
Yet give thee up I must;
And birds will sing when thy loved form
Lies nioldcriug in the dust.
My nngel child, thy tiny feet
Danco through my broken dreams;
Ah mo, how Joyous, qunint and swoot
Their baby pattering seems!
I lmsh my breath, to hear thoe speak ;
I see thy red lips part;
But wake to feel thy cold, cold chock
Close to my breaking heart!
Boon, soon my burning tears shall fall
Upon thy coffin lid ;
Nor may thoso tears my soul recall
To earth—nay, God forbid I
Bo happy in His love, for I
Bottignod, though wounded soro,
Can hear IBs angels whispering nigh:
II Not lost, liut gone before."
Fanny FonnKSTP-n.
Old Joe 3?ollarcl.
BY MBS. DENISON.
L. NEWMAN,
HOUSE & CARRIAGE PITER,
Paper Hanging nud Calcimining,
Graining ami Glazing.
ALL WOHK VrUAKANTEKU
Can be found a Warlick’s Shop.
[janil-83-ly]
flrmity, how sho soothed and coaxed
him, with what tenderness she anticipated
his WABts, and even when it would seem
that he waB scarcely entitled to her re
spect, honored him.
To her, under all his wretched dis
guises, bo was still father,
Bat her constant duties woro heavily
upon her. Sho grew pnlo and thin, thou
feverish and hectic; but still she worked
on.
Three times a handsome carriage and
pair were sc i beforo the door of her
plain little home.
The first timo a rich aunt came to re-
raonstrato with her and offer her a home,
Sho found her preparing her poor meal
over tho tiny cook stove.
“.Teddy, you are the best girl in tho
world, but you must go back with me,
if only for awhile, and leave that man te
take care of himself."
This was after a most affectionate
greeting, for Joddy was her favorite
niece.
“J couldn’t leavo father,” was tho re
sponse.
"But I can’t sco you lulling yourself
by inches. What does he caro ? One
person is ns good ns another to ouo who
has lost all the liner sensibilities, us he
has."
“Oh, no; at times father is his old
self—even—ovou at tho worst," she
faltered. “Ho don’t forget that ho is a
gentleman. Ho never was unkiud to
J. M. HARDIN.
House, Sign, Carriage
—AN D—
ORNAMENTAL PAINTER,
FRESCO AM) SCENIC ARTIST ALSO.
Oriental and Grecian painting. Mezo
Tallin ■, Carbo-Tinting, painting in be-
pei and India Ink.
Twenty-five per cent sived bv sppty-
'ng to me before contracting witli others.
Material furnished at bottom prices.
Satisfaction given or no cliurg -s made.
See nr address, J. M. J1ARDIN,
fjtuhV83-ly] Uautou, Georgia,
now slowly ho walked ! Poor old
old man I Joe Pollard; ex-President
tfio Statesman’s Bauk of opolis.
’ His coat was faded, his hoots were
seamed and gr\y, his hat greusy and
quaint-patterned.
Only three years ago, and no more
stately, vigorous, halo gontlomau walked
thq streets • than Joseph Pollard, Esq.;
how lio wits “old Joe,” and sometimes
“poor old Joe."
When ho failed ho was living in groat
splendor. Peoplo to this day point out
the Pollard mausion and tell you of its
former greatness. Happily there wns
no dishonor attuchcd to his name. Ho
had given np all; homo, horses, car
riages, everything that could bo dis
pensed with.
His only daughter—hor name was
Josephino, but all her friends called her
Jeddy—gave n'birthnight party only n
week before the trouble came, on her
eighteenth birthnight.
Never a happier or lovelier girl than
she. Universally admired and re
spected, bright ns a sunbeam, witty,
merry, generous.
In all that throng of beauty, amid the
flowers and tho foasting that man would
hnvo been bold indeed who could havo
presaged coming ill fortune.
Only one week later, and tho dreadful
news came, Joseph Pollard was bank
rupt. The cashier had been dishonest,
several large firms had gone down, nnd
the run on the bank had completed the
ruin.
The father found a plaoo ns an assist
ant bookkeeper, but he had formed the
habit of drinking at his own table. Lit
tle by little ho sank at last into what
seemed an utterly hopeless state, lost his
business, his pride and almost his wits.
“My dear,” wrote Aunt Prue, when
she heard of this misfortune, “put your
father away. There are plenty of places:
and come and live with me. Enough for
one is enough for two.”
“Aunt Prue,” wrote Jeddy, indig
nantly, “I am ashamed of you. What!
counsel me to put my own dear father in
tho poor-house, for what other place is
open to him ? No. I will share his
misfortunes if I have to work my fin
gers to the bone.”
“Jeddv, I’m useless. I’m broken
down and good for nothing,’’ whined
poor Joe, day nfter dny, as Jeddy sat and
stitched her life into the work she had
undertaken.
"Father, you are only fifty-eiglityears
old,” was the answer. “Many a man
has begun life anew at your age.”
“Ah ! if I only could !” he would make
reply, and drink again to drown his
misery,
Jeddy had carried much of her fine
wardrobe with her into the poverty ot
ner surroundings. Of course she made !
over and toned down the material, but 1
"the look of the lady,” as one of the'
coarser neighbors said, was upon her!
“and couldn't bo mistook.”
Everybody pi tied bor when old Join
came rolliug homo, but few saw or knew j
iiow patiently kLo put up with kk ifr- ’
“Fiddlesticks I Yonr ideas of duty
are exaggerated. Como, now—don’t dis
appoint me—tako a littlo rest, I havo
cohie way from L ou purpose to
carry yon back, and tlio last words you*
Cousin Kitty said, as I left her, wero:
“ 'Mother, don’t fail to bring Jeddy
back; I want to see her.’ ”
Tears came to Jeddy’s brown eyes,
but she reiterated:
“I cannot leavo father,”
“And here you arc, losing all your
beauty—all your advantages, and oven
your health—I oau sec it 1 For your
father's sake, yoq ought to go. It would
make a now credture of you to see old
sights and old faces, and to live n while
like a Christian. _ Why, cliildj tho walls
are damp; how do you live ?’q t .^.-/j.tirt^th-'i j> gastroipiners
“It isn’t living, annt, it’s only stay- up ^ighfs all over the
iug,” said Jeddy, trying, bravely to
sniiio, “but tlifttloan’tholpwbilo fuller
lives. There’s nobody in all this wide
world to care for him hut m«i. I know I
might live in ease and comfort if I went
with you, and oh, sometimes my heart
does long so for a little of that old-time
joy. It would bo lik“ looking into Par
adise—but—1 can’t leave father.”
There sounded a heavy sigh. Both
women turned round to sco tho old,
gaunt man in the doorway, tho tears
streaming down his cheeks as he hold
forth his trembling bauds us if in bene
diction.
“Go, Jeddy, go angel—don’t slay for
mo—I’m not worth your caro,” ho said
pitifully.
lint Jeddy thought otherwise. Long
after the splendid carriage had gone she
sat there holding the gray head against
her shoulder, soothing and petting him
and lending a willing car tolas promises
of amendment.
The second carriage brought a stylish
young gentleman, with whom hor friends
had often coupled her name. He came
with an offer of marriage, but Jeddy
gavo him the same soft but determined
answer: “I couldn’t leave father,” and
he, too, went away disconsolate.
Tho third carriage contaipcd one who
had always been u friend, also a young
gentleman, who had lately returned
from a foreign tour.
Ho asked no questions and expressed
no surprise, though the change he saw
affected him painfully. But like a true
friend, he resolved to aid both father
and daughter.
To this purpose he followed the former,
and quietly tried to hinder him from the
abuse of his appetite, and gradually
gained his confidence.
Then ho told him liow sadly the
change in his daughter hiul troubled
him.
“Change 1” exclaimed old Joe, “how
is she changed ?”
“Is it possible you do not see that sho
is at death’s door ?”
“What do you mean? At death’s
door—my child—my angel? You would
kill me 1 What have I but her ?”
“You havo God, and He will help yo/;
to redeem yourself. If you do that,
your daughter will live; if you do not,
she will die.”
That night old Joe went borne full of
doubts and fears. He watched his child,
sick at heart from the news he heard.
“I can make her live—and I will!”
he said, resolutely, to himself. “I am
not an old man, yet” -lifting his bowed
head—“with God’s help, I will be a new
one 1”
lie went, to tlio curb, outside, and
oroke liis pocket-flask in a hundred
pieces. The next day he came home
bank where he had once reigned mas
ter. Etetybody saw the change. Old
Joe had new clothes, he was respectable
to outward scorning. Once more he I*,
came a man among men. His kno* lodge
of the business, his integrity, gained
him a bettor position, Day by day he
took stejw upward—day by day the color
nnd brightness came into his daughter’s
face, and her steps grow light and hor
tones joyful.
It, seems like a miracle, hnt is not,
that old Joe rides in his own carrisge
again. He is Mr. Pollard again, cashier
of the hank, and a power amnug his fol
lows, It was just trusting in God nnd
God helping him as he helped himself.
But the best of nil is, his glorious daugh
ter, by sacrificing herself, by her noble
fortitude, by her patient oare, has won
a phmo in his heart, and in the henrts of
all 4ho know her, prouder and more en
during than the throne of a queen,—
Companion.
CLEARING CP WEATHER.
iVknt the Pike Count* tttat Settlor lias to
Offer eu the stklmi.
“Major, wlint’s the chances of its clear
ing np this week?" asked tho Oonuty
Oicrk, ns tho Old Bottler spread his um
brella wide open in front of tho baso
burner to dry.
X"Clonrin’up ?” replied the Old Bet-
tier. “I hain't ben able to eoo no sign
</ any oleariu’ np yit. It nsoty lie,
k’gosh, that ye could go a little by tho
moon in mnkiu’ yer catenations ’bout
things; hnt fur all the use the moon in
now fur that, yo mowt jest ess well
•coop tho iu’ards out’n a skim-milk
cheese, light a taller dip, an' put it in it,
!‘au’ hang it up on a flag pole. I ben
Rnyiu’ along during this damp spell,
'Wait till the moon changes, on’ this
weather’ll flop ’ronn’ with a jerk, an’
we’ll hev it dryor’n a temper’nco picnic
nu’ coldcr’n an iciole ofl’n tho North
Pole.’ Well, the moon changed t’other
day, but 'stid o’ the weather fetohin’ up
with a short jerk an’ takin’ the back
track, it just tuok to rainin’ all tho harder
and gives me a dam nice record fur
kilo win’ a thing or two. I tell ye, b’gosli
that’s a sottin
country, pokin
their spyglasses ’roun’, drnwin’ bead on a
comet ev’ry little spell, an* wingin’ n
new star now au’ then, an’ a gossipin'
'bout what they imagine they’ve foun
out, like a lot o’ ole women at a ten
party, is a playin’ hob with things on
this mundane spear. ’Fore wo know’d
that they was mountains on the moon,
tilings worked all right. We know’d jist
w’on to pole our beans an’ stiok our
pens; w’on to 'spect wot weather an’ w’en
we was gointer hev a drout; w’on to go
a fishin’^an’ w’on to kill onr pigs. But
now we’re gittin’ too smart, an’ wo don’t
know nothin’. ’Twou’t s’prise mo a
duru bit to wnko up some fine mornin’
an’ find ov’rytbing drowndod out, or
burnt up, or knocked pizzle-jee-whang
by a comet gittin’ on its ear. ’Twon’t,
b'gouh !
“I don’t believe that even Noar could
find fault with soch weather ez this,
boys,” continued the Old Settler, “an’
he wero a good jedgo o' wet weather,
too. I says to M’riar this mornin’, ez
I looked out o’ the winder an’ see that
it were still so damp outside that 1 could
float a canal boat in the moistur’ that
bad gathered in the dooryard: ‘M’riar,
I says—tho fire in the cookin’ stove
didn’t seem to bo springin’ up very
lively, an’ M’riar were kinder settin’ in
front of it, blowin’ agin’ it, an’ not
lookin’ cz cheerful ez I’ve see her ’fore
now—‘M’riar,’ I says, ‘if I was in the
ark bnildin’ business, now, I’d think
fortun’ were a mtber edgin’ round my
way, sartin, to set up with mo a spell.’
M’riar says: ‘Mebbe so,’ she says,
‘Silos; but boin’s ye hain’t in the ark-
buildin* business, an’ hain’t rushed with
work in that line, s’posin’ ye go out an,
kinder cork up the roof o’ the woodshed,
an’ see if ye can’t keep the kindlin’ dry.’
Seems to mo, boys, that it allnz happens
that sumpin’s the matter with the kind
lin’ wood when I wanter make a quiet
leotlo p’int over hum, an’ it jist knocks
my p’int so’z t’ud a ben a dura sight bet
ter if I’d a laid low an' said nothin’."
Ed. Mott.
BLUSHING AND LYING.
Tl » Popular Error Tlim the Ouo li an In.
ilrx «r iIn- Oilii'fi
TIIE HUMOROUS PAVERS.
“Rut didn’t you sec him blush?"
“Well, what, of that?"
"Don’t ton think he wns lying?"
“No, I don't. 1 know ho was tolling
me tho square truth.”
‘Do you know the circumstances?”
‘Yes, and I know lie told them just
as they were.”
It sounded like a lie, anyway."
That is why ho blushed," said Mr.
Denison, a well-known Chicago lawyer,
for this talk Was taking place in his of
fice just after the doparfnro of a young
man who hod boon sued anil was lock
ing advice from his attorney.
“I venture to say no man has had
ruoro trouble than I with blushes, ami I
think I know some of the causes behind
them. Yon may havo noticed that I
blush on every oonoeivablo oecaslon. II
a question Is put to mo quickly, I blush.
If I meet a friend slap ou tlie street—
unless I see him Rfims time beforo 1
reach him—I blush. If anylnnly sjicnks
my name from behind or from some un
expected quarter, I blush. As much ns
I have lmen beforo juries, I blush every
timo an opposing advocate refers to mo
ns 'the learned counsel for the defense.'
Hang it! I blush on nil sorts of occn
sinus, and yet I don’t behove that any
body would say I am an especially
modest of bashful man.
“No, sir,” continued the old attorney,
“I have blushed and blushed all my
life, and tho inoro 1 blush the moro I
try not to, and tlio moro 1 try not to the
moro I blush. Above all, tho meanest
blush is jnst sttoh a one as yon saw on
that young man's face Just now. I know
just how ho felt. Ho kuow ho was toll
ing a pretty hard story, and ho could
soo in your face that you didn’t behove
him. That’s why ho blushed. If he
had boon talking to mo alone he would
not have blushed, bcoause lie knows I
am familiar with tlio circnmstnnc-es ho
related; but you looked doubtingly at
him, aud lio folt your mistrust so keenly
that it brought tho blood to his faoo. ”
After a littlo pause Mr. Deuiaou con
tinued:
“I never pay tho least attention to
blushes when examining a witness. The
blush is not, oh is too often believed, the
ovidenoo of n ho. Nor is it a truo nig-
nul of omlmrrassmont. I know that, for
I havo boon told that I was blushing
purple when I was us calm aud unem
barrassed as I urn at this moment.
There are many onuses for my blushes;
some of them purely physical, I think;
but often when I am telling something
—somo little personal recollection, tier-
imps, that amounts to nothing—I got it
in my head that somebody doubts somo
part, of it. Then I blush. Than I feci
that I nm blushing, and I say to my
self, ‘Now ho will sec mo blush and will
be sure to think I nm lying,’ and that
makes mo blush all the more, until
fiunlly I can fool my face burn and glow
like a coal, and I say to myHolf, ‘Now ho
is sure I oin lying, aud he thinks I know
ho is sure of it,' nnd so I stand and
blush bcoause I think he doubts me un
til, perhaps, I really make him doubt me
because of my blushes.”
About Cribbing News,
WIIAT \VK FIND IN THEM TO H.llll.M
UVKK TII1N WEEK.
A NEW VEIUHON.
There Is a little boy in this city whoso
mother 1ms been reading to him lately
Charles Fallen Adams’s poem entitled -
Loodle Yawoob Btranas,” the couclud- -
ing lines of which aro :
“ I prays der Lord risks snyrilngs,
But leavo riot Yawoob StrauHS."
The other night while saying his
prayors tho littlo boy rendered them ns
follows :
“ Now T lay mo down to sloop ;
I pray tlio Lord my soul to hoop ;
If I should die beforo I wake—
I pray dur Lord dnko anyrilugs,
But leave dot. Yawoob Strain*."
—Somerville Journat.
A LA1W1H LOT OF LIVELY AtINTS.
Fond Mamma—“Now, Willie, yon
must Iki a real good boy to-day; hero’*
all your aunts come to see you.”
Willie—“Hue Aunt Borah come?”
Fond Mamma—“Yes, Aunt Sarah,
Aunt Dolly, Aunt Mary, Aunt Laura,
Aunt Elizabeth, Aunt Oyhthla, Auqt—”
Willie—“That’s plenty, mamma, for
mo. It’s the biggest nest of aunts I
ever struck.”—Chicago Sun.
It is all well enough to advise a
young man to overcome ail obstacles by
“taking the bull by the horns;” but
when the youth is in the middle of a
field anfl the bull is cotring toward him
with his head down and its tail lashing
the air the young man prefers to take tho
fence. It would be decidedly unwhole
some to take the bull by the horns un
der those circumstances.—Norristown
Herald.
HE LEFT XT.
“Did you over find anything of value,
Uncle By ?” I asked, after telling him
about finding a pearl ring tliat morning.
“Yeh, sab; I foun’ a pus once, will
ten dollars in it.”
“Did you? Well, what did yon do'
with it—you didu't keep it, of courso ?"
"Yoh, sail; I did dat berry ting. I’a
ntriutly honest; I wouldn’t tako uo mati’s
pus. I lof’ it where lie could git it; but
I took de money out fust. You seoy ho
done los’ do money—’twam’t his'n no
mo’. I done fin’ it; it was my money
don. But de pus Was his’n, V long os
I live I ain’t gwine to take no man’s
pus."—Harper's Drawer.
The Crowd.—Eighty- three percent
of the population of the United States
is composed of whits natives and the j
immigrants from. Germany and Great j
Britain, leaving four per cent, from !
other countries and thirteen per cent, j
sober; tho next, lie found a place 1 f or those of A e nma
«r small one, it was true, but m the old
An influential Western mombor of tlio
U. B. House, referring to tlio Watterson
bill, spoke as follows concerning it.
“The proposition on its face seems fair,
but it is deceptive. The value of news
is not in holding it, but in giving it; not
in storing it away, but in disseminating
it. How can one expect to retain a prop
erty right in that which 1ms no valuo
unless it is given away? What is news?
The statement of facts; tho story of oc.
currences. If one gets the first acoount
of a thing, should lie ho permitted to
patent it, and secure exclusive right of
publishing it? Tho newspapers have
ample protection in tho first use of their
own special news. The first use is about
all tho value there is in it to tlio first
newspaper. The country press can get
some bonofttby reprinting tlie news, but
this is no injury to tho city press; in
fact-, it is often a benefit, for it is usually
credited. The country press would be
injured by the passage of the bill. It is
a scheme of tho Metropolitan and Asso
ciated Press to confine the printing of
news to their journals. ”
The old tramp who was a “Michigan
fire suflerer” last summer, will go on the
road this spring as an “Ohio flood
sufferer." He thought once that ho
would have to appear as a “Java earth
quake eufferer,” but the floods bav6
fortunately rendered this rather far-
fetched excuse unnecessary. —Norris•
town Herald.
Cannot Talk.—Lieutenant Rhodes,
(ho Gay Head disaster hero, says ho
would rather do his work over again
than make a speeoh about ik
LANODISHED FOB I-OVE. 1
Thera is a clerk in au Austin dry-
goods storo who is very susceptible, aud
deeply in love with Miss Esmorcldu
Longooffln, who, howover, fails aud re
fuses to reciprocate. Hhe wits buying
gomo goods from him Inst Tuesday, and
she complained of the high prides.
“We buy all our goods at your storo,
nnd yet you charge ub moro tluin you Mo
others. I find yon dearer thou any buo
else,” site observed.
The olork sighed, shook his head, and
said:
“I only wish it werd s'°-”
“That what wore so?”
“That 1 wftH dearer to yort than any
body else."—Texas Si/llnys.
GENUINE AUISTOCRACY.
Miss Bhoddyite was introduced to a
real livo young Englishman at' a dinner
purty the other night, and tlie next after
noon sho wns extolling liis many fasci
nating wiles and graces to au anxious
coterie of female friends.
“And then, girls, he not only waltzes
divinely, but he’s a groat politician,
too.”
“Oh, my, ain’t that sweot?” exclaimed
a spirituelle girl. “Is he in the House
of Commons?”
“Commons, indeed !” said Miss Shod-
dyite, scornfully. “I should Bay not.
He would have notbing to do with any
House of Commons. Why, he is a real
aristocrat, he is.”
Aud the other girls chorused out,
“My, ho must be grand.’’— Washington
Hatchet.
HE DIDN’T TAKE ALL ins LEEWAY.
A government agent, who was sent to
Wisconsin last fall to look up trespass
cases on government lauds, was out on
Lis travels one day when ho found a man
whaling away at some choice timber on
one of Uncle Ham’s sections.
“Any land for sale around herb?”
queried tho agent.
“Wall, thar’ might be,” wan the
«p!y-
“J.’d like to buy a whole section.”
“Have ye the cash to pay ?”
“I have.”
“I mought sell you this.” ' .
“Can you give me a clem deed?”
“Clear as a whistle, stranger. Giipmo
$800 cash, and I'll deed you the sectyju
afore sundown.”
The ageut coolly unrolled a map,
spread it out on a log and said:
“You will see by this map that,Updo
Sam owns this section. How, then, osa
you give me a deed for it ?"
“See hy’ar, stranger," said the chop
per, after a long pause, “maybe you is
one of these chaps as arguefles that
Uncle Bam is a bigger man than a free
born citizen of old Wisconsin 1 I’llgiv’ yo
jist three minutes to skip I”
The agent ijidn’t want but two, —TFflJI
Street Newt*