Newspaper Page Text
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\
•Mm \ |j. >KALS, Editor and Proprietor.
Wm. B. SKA I/S. Proprietor and for. Editor.
BBS. DIARY E. BRYAN, (*) Associate Editor
ATLANTA. GEORGIA, SEPT.,27th, iS79.
Autobiography of a Joke.—A thrilling vol
ume of travel might be written with the title of
“The Autobiography of a .Toko.” Born under ad
verse circumstances, deformed by some unskilfu]
nurse, disowned by their parents, caught up as a
curiosity by some destitute editor, thrust into close
type and labelled Facetiae, they run the gauntlet of
some fifty newspapers, and after this precarious ex
istence go upon the “parish" in" the shape of some
penny periodical. An energetic or an ambitious
joke revolts against this cruel oblivion, and fre
quently emigrates, returning after a few years in
comparative prosperity, and with a considerable
addition to its bulk. It is not, however, allowed to
rest upon its laurels. If it be seized as before, by
the journalist, and if it betray any portion of its
original composition, it is ruthlessly “cut down,”
or smothered in a new suit of verbiage. The luck
less orphan generally succumbs to this second
course of treatment, and dies an emaciated, done-
up descendant of the late Joe Miller.
Puns.—Popular as the reign of humor has be
come with us, it is still a very dangerous thing to
trifle on the subject of joke-making. Puns are a
class ot wit universally tabooed in cultivated socie
ty, and indeed very few persons in auy walk of life
will look with complacency upon a deliberate
punster. If a pun be not of too obvious an origin,
it may be tolerated by exceptional favor; but to
repeat the experiment within the same four-and-
twenty hours would be to court a most unwelcome
retribution. Hence if, as is sometimes the case, a
person of the flippant species of humanity feels it
necessary to his personal safety, and in order to
prevent general disintegration, to make a pun, he
is usually careful to give it a second-hand appear
ance, and to add, “as Douglas Jerrold said,” to his
atrocity. We here notice with what shrewdness
John Dennis associated punsters with pickpockets,
for if the punster be not a thief, he generally feels
like one, and hatches all kinds of schemes to avoid
exposure.
Beware of the Elephant.—As John Robin*
son's show passed through Canal Dover, on Sep
tember Sth, en route for Philadelphia, two horses,
attached to buggies and standing in front of the ho-
' tel, frightened at the elephants and ran off. demol
ishing the vehicles completely. This confusion ex
cited the elephants. Two huge monsters were
chained together, one being particularly wild and
vicious. These lellows broke away from t h eir keep
ers and tore through the streets, screaming terribly
and lashing and throwing things about like a hur
ricane. Services in the churchos were brought
suddenly' to a close, and the greatest excitement
prevailed. In the meantime the animals became
enraged, hyenas yelled, monkeys screetched and
ihe lions roared and bounded againet the sides of
their cages. One magnificent fellow broke his cage
and nearly escaped-
An eye-witness describes the scene as a most cx-
ting one. After considerable trouble the elephants
were final 1 v «u>t.n.«,i ti— -*>— —■—* »•—
and the show proceeded. It was miraculous that
no one was hurt,
A Bright Bit of Word Painting.—Gen. Tay
lor in his charming book, describes a model break
fast in the following lovely and poeticai colors:
“That night, we encamped between Charlottes
ville and Gordonsville, in Orange county, the birth
place of my father. A distant kinsman whom I had
never met, came to invite me to his house in the
neighborhood. Learning that I always slept in
camp, beseemed so much distressed as to get my
consent to breakfast with him, if he would engage
to have breakfast at the barbarous hour of sunrise.
His house was a little distant from the road; so the
following morning he sent a mounted groom to
show the way. My- aide, young Hamilton, accom -
panied me, and Tom (body--servant) of course, fol
lowed. It was a fine old mansion, surrounded by
well-kept grounds. This immediate region had not
yet been touched by war. Flowering plants and
rose trees in full bloom attested the glorious wealth
of June. On the broad portico, to welcome ns, stood
the host, with his fresh andeharming wife, ard, a
little retired, a white headed butler. Greetings over
with host and lady, this delightful creature, with
ebon face beaming hospitality, advanced, holding a
salver, on which rested a huge sliver goblet filled
with Virginia’s nectar—mint julep. Quantities of
cracked ice rattled refreshingly in thegoblet; sprigs
of fragrant mint peered above its broad rim; a mass
of white sugar, too sweetly indolent to melt, rested
on the mint; and, like rosebuds on a snow-bank,
luscious strawberries crowned the sugar. Oh! that
julep! Mars ne'er received such tipple from the
iiands of Ganymede. Breakfast was ann«unced>
and what a breakfast! A beantiful service, snowy
table cloth, damask napkins (long unknown); above
all, a lovely- woman in crisp gown, with handsomer
roses on her cheek than in her garden. ’Twas an
idyl in the midst of the stern realities of war. The
table groaned beneath its viands. Sable servitors
brought in, hot and hot from the kitchen, cakes of
wondrous forms, inventions of the tropical Imagi
nation of Africa, inflamed by Virginian hospitali
ty. I was rather a moderate trencherman, but the
performance of Hamilton was Gargatuan, alarm
ing! Duty dragged us from this Eden; yet in hur
ried adieus, I did not forget to claim of the fair host
ess the privilege of a cousin. I watched Hamilton
narrowly for a time. The youth wore a saddened,
apoplectic look, quite out of his usual brisk form.
A gallop of some miles put him right, but for many
days he dilated on that breakfast with the yusto of
one of Hannibal's veterans on the delights o f
Capua.”
I think true genius cannot co-exist with stingi-
ness and cold-hearted selfishness. A generous sym
pathy and a broad imagination go together. You
will say that Swinburne is the essence of stinginess,
but is Swinburne then a genius ! That remains to
be proven. Dickens had spasms of stinginess, but
they were only spasms—due to tis fancy that some
times frightened him with a picture of a poverty-
stricken old age. In the main he was generous, but,
his nature has not the sympathetic breadth of
Thackeray’s, though one judging from their writ
ings, would imagine differently. Thackeray could
not gush and he was so afraid of being thought bet
ter than he really was—he was so abhorrent of
self-righteousness—that he always showed the sour
er side of his character. But
“Sweetest nut has sourest rind ”
Thaekery's recognition of talent in another was
free and hearty. He had no small, literary jealou
sies. Witness with what warmth he eulogized his
great rival Dickens, and how cheerfully he accord
ed him the place above himself, to which it is a
question if the author of Pickwick was entitled.
Thackaray was ready too to give a struggling au
thor help of a more substantial kind—when he had
it. Among the anecdotes about him, are these told
in Chambers’ .Journal:
“One morning Thackeray knocked at the door of
Horace Mayhew’s chambers in Regent Street, cry'
iug from without: ‘It’s no use, Horry May hew;
open the door.’ On entering, he said cheerfully:
* Well, young gentleman, you’ll admit an old fogv.
When leaving, with his hat in his hand, he remark
ed: ‘By the by, how stupid ! 1 was going away
without doing part of the business of my visit. You
spoke the other day of poor George. Somebody
most unaccountably—has returned me a five-pound
note I lent him a long time ago. I didn’t expect it . , „ ,,
So just hand it to George; and tell him when his i ^
pocket will bear it, to pass it on to some poor fel-
E. BKYAX.
NFDIBER III.
I have always felt that I must write down the
story of Jimplecute. It haunts me so unforget-
ably; the poor, little, wierd, pathetic face rises up
so persistently out of the mist of memory that I
must sketch it and turn it to the wall as painters
do when they are haunted by a particular face
which they do not wish shall find its way into their
pictures.
The first time I ever saw Jimplecute was in the
twilight of an autumn evening, in the midst of a
dusky Florida hammock, by the light of a feu-
stars overhead and the fresh-lit 'amps of a car
riage. Stowed away in that abomination—an old-
fashioned, close carriage—we w ere on our way
from Tallahassee to Salubrity, my aunt’s beautiful
and hospitable home. On the front seat of the
carriage, I, a sallow-faced, big-eyed morsel of ten
years, sat heroically struggling with “sea sick
ness,” invariably brought on by the close carriage,
and causing me so often to be teased as “a born
cracker’-that I Would smile in suffering silence
rather than betray ray plebian-like aversion to be
longing to carriage folks. Riding backwards aug
mented my trouble, but the other seat was occu
pied by a youngish lady, with the expansive
hooped andTtMinced skirts of the period, and by a
diminutive but most dignified gentleman—no other
than the well-known and honored Judge Dupont,
of Quincy, Florida, whose neat, dapper figure was
almost hidden by Miss Janev’s voluminous dra
peries.
Beside me sat roy uncle—my idol and ideal at
that age—and indeed I have never seen any one to
equal in imposing physique, grand features and
oratorical genius this uncle of mine in his palmy
One great secret of domestic enjoyment has been
too much overlooked—that of bringing our wants
down to our circumstances, instead of toiling to
bring our circumstances up to our wants. Secret!
Well, it is, for few know it and fewer still practice
it. The ballot-box oi political economy is located
on the domestic hearth.
Some years ago a lady residing at Ponds Hill, a
little hamlet near the home of the Americun bach
elor poet J. G. NVliittier, presented him with ajar
of butter, for which he returned the followingchar-
acteristic expression of thanks;
• Words butter no parsnips,” the old adage says,
And to fill up the trencher is better than praise.
So trust me, dear friend, that while eating thy but.
ter,
The thanks that I feel are far more than I utter.
Kind Providence grant thee a life without ills,
May thy cows never dry up that feed on Pond hills
May the cream never fail in thy cellars so cold.
Nor thy hand lose its cunning to change it to gold.
Thrice welcome to him who, unblest with a wife,
Sits and bungles alone at the ripped seams of life,
lathe womanly kindness which pities his fate
And sews on bis buttons or fills up his plate.
low of his acquaintance. By-bye. ’ He was gone.
This was one of Thackeray’s delicate methods of
doing a favor; the recipient was asked to jiass it
on.
One of his last acts on leaving America after a
lecturing tour, was to return twenty-five per cen*
of the proceeds of one of his lectures to a young
speculator who had been a loser by the bargain!
Evidently aware that money when properly used
is a wonderful health-restorer, he was found by a
friend who bad entered his bedroom in Paris, grave
ly placing some napoleons in a pill box, on the lid
of which was written: One to be taken occasion
ally.’ IFhen asked to explain, it came out that
these strange pills were for an old person who said
sht was very ill, and in distress; and so he had con
cluded that this was the medicine wanted. ‘Dr
Thaekery.’ he remarked, ‘intends to leave it with
her himself. Let us walk out together.’ To a
young literaay man afterward his amanuensis, he
wrote thus, on hearing that a loss had befallen him.
'I am sincerely sorry to hear of j our position, and
send the little contribution which came so oppor
tunely from another friend whom I was enabled
once to help. When you are well-to-do .again. I
J'ju win jiuy it iiacK; and I daresay some,
body else will want the money,which is meanwhile
most heartily at your service.’
That chanty covers a multitude of sins is true
now in a different sense from that in which the apos
tle uttered it. Among the “upper ten” many queer
things are done in the name of charity and religion.
Have you ever gone to a charity bazaar or a church
lestival and seen the captivating Miss in white mus
lin pocket the five dollar bill the poor clerk has
given her to change and take out the pay for a
trumpery cigar cate or a cotton velvet smokiug
cap that would hardly fit the head of a monkey i
Have you seen the fair damsels putting them
selves up to be voted for as the handsomest or most
popular young lady, or the young lady with the
prettiest foot,(as we heard of last winter), or re
tailing kisses to the great unwashed at so much
apiece (with a reduction if taken by the quantity),
or whipping the old Nicholas round the stump by
biting off the ends of cheap cigars and putting
their lips to cups of weak tea and then selling these
refreshments for ten or twenty times their value
because of the labial nectar left lingering upon the
porcelain and weed
the taste of the two-lips tbit hangs on it still.
By the way, some unappreciative male monster
after buying a cup of tea and afterwards having
its attraction—and price—thus enhanced by the
lips of beauty, paid tha added price and then said:
“Now bring me a clean cup.”
Church and charity fairs are not apt to go out of
vogue now that they have received the sanction of
the two rival queens of beauty an fashion
—the Langtry and the Bernhardt.
At a recent Fair in London for the benefit of the
poor, the ethereal Sarah had a booth, and the
Times devotes several flow r ery pargraphs to de
scribing how graciously and condescendingly this
priestess of high art and unmarried mother of four
children sold t wo white kittens to the Princess of
Wales. In the meantime the prince was buying a
box of bon bons from “Jits' Langtry, who stood
in a flat yellow bonnet at the stall of the Comtesse
de Bulow.” This is the way the Times,the newspa
per model of the world,puts the description: and we
would have bought a box of bon-bons or a doz
en boxes to see Mrs. Langtry or any oth
er woman standing in a flat yellow' bonnet. Most
of us are glad enough to get shoes to stand in these
hard times.
They have a ghost in Westminster, Md.,who from
accounts,outrage* all preconceived ideas of ghostli
ness, having a fat, red face, a full body and sandy
whiskers. He is strong and lively moreover, and
very belligerent and pulls the bedclothes out of the
hands of Mrs. Toops and her daughter, snatches off
the table cloth when the family are at meals, breaks
the crockery, tosses the feather beds in the middle
af the room and bangs the furniture about, His
last exploit was to pursue Miss Toops and her
mother out into the > ard where they were hoeing.
He held their hoes and said: “It you strike me, I
will be the death of yon.” She however aimed a blow'
at his face, when she immediately fell down in a
tit. The girl has spasms nearly every day, which
she says are brought on whenever she refuses to
obey the ghost. All of which, if not done for sen
sational effect, is the result of an ignorant, dis
eased imagination.
A poem commences, ‘Under the willows he’s
lying.’ He must be a tramp. They lie under
all sorts of trees. One was discovered lying
under an axel-tree the other morning. The
owner of the wagon made him wheel-right
round and leave.
uncle’s body servant, Ned, a mulatto Adonis, who
copied his master’s voice and manner with marvel
ous exactness, yet was unable to make the riotous
and mischievous old Adam within him conform to
the dignity he sometimes assumed.
It was evident to me that Ned was more fidgety
than usual. He kept turning on his seat and peep
ing into the carriage, as if uneasy. Judge Dupont
was relating to us the tragedy connected with the
wood through which we were passing—how a man
had been killed.aqd bulled there, and his booted
foot afterward discoveied sticking out of the
ground—when suddenly Miss Janey, a prim maiden
of the prunes and prisms style, uttered a shriek and
jumped to her feet. Both gentlemen hurriedly in
quired the cause »f her agitation ; and at last she
stammered that she had felt something catch hold
of her ankle. Those who knew that model of the
proprieties—Judge Dupont—can imagine the
blushes that suffused his trimly-shaved visage. He
soothed Miss Janey, however, by showing that it
could be only imagination ; and having quieted
and reseated her, discreetly dropjted his too exci
ting murder story, and began to give us anecdotes
illustrating the power of imagination, with a com
mentary on our dAtj' to curb this faculty. In the
...it.* jyAiyr. a =-uafi, ju.^ r
ami a yell of tdrror.
“There’s a snake or something running up my—”
Even in his terror, the Judge (whose prudishness
was a Florida proverb) could not bring himself to
say pants before a lady, but he made his meaning
plain by grasping a leg of the bifurcated garment
at the bottom and saying piteously :
“ Help me, do ! ”
The carriage was stopped, the lamp brought
round, and the mystery revealed,
the Judge’s pants was pulled the tail of a monkey,
and from under the carriage seat was drawn out
the monkey itself, tied fast all but one paw, which
she had contrived to gnaw free, and to grab with
it the spindly ankle of Miss Janey.
Yes, she, for Jimplecute was of the gentle sex,
though her sponsor (a waggish old Methodist
preacher) was not aware of th::t fact when he be
stowed the cognomen, which he declared meant
“preacher of tiie world.”
Poor Jimplecute ! What a frightened, chatter
ing, wild-eyed little black face was that over which
the lantern flashed, and bow she dodged her head
(accustomed to blows) and darted her round,
beseeching eyes from face to face, as Miss Janey
screamed hysterically, and the Judge thrust out
his cane with the instinct of preserving his immac
ulate shirt bosom from the one free paw.
How came the monkey there 1 My uncle knew,
instinctively, and summoned Ned, who had kept
"out of the way during the confusion. A stern look
and word brought out the truth, and revealed that
Ned had bought the monkey with a brass watch
from an ex organ grinder, and having dosed the
creature with whisky that she might keep the
peace, had tied her and stowed her away under the
carriage seat.
Ned was let off with a threat that he should be
“skinned alive,” which Ned knew very well he
could take in a very Pickwickian sense, and an or
der to pick up his purchase and take it out on the
box.
So it happened that Jimplecute became a mem
ber of the household at Salubrity, where I was
temporarily ins' ailed in order to be near a country
school, which I attended, more that the walk should
diminish my “fever cake” than that the instruction
themselves and the poor alien from their natiie
shores, they did everything to persecute and tor
ture her. They set their fat ems to worry her, they
poked her with sticks threw sand in her eyes, made
her fight the game rooster, and stinted her lood,
abstracting from the plate of victuals that was sent
her at meal time, and often forgetting her altogeth
er. The small creature’s trials were unknown to
the heads of the family. My aunt, reft of husband
and children by a rapid succession of bereave,
ments, either sat locked in her room with her grief
that time could not heal, or went among the sick and
poor trying by active ministration to win "sur
cease of sorrow.” My uncle, her young brother,
was shut in his library or away attending courts or
filling lecture engagements. As for me, the remain,
ing white inmate of Salubrity, no sooner did the
morning sun appear over the hills than it shone on
the fluttering, flowered gown of Father Pane as he
came down the road, and stopping at the gate, called
me in stentorian tones till I was forced to snatch
up books and dinner bucket and hasten to the old-
field school for the benefit of my fever cake and my
knowledge of ‘‘readiu’, writiu’ and rethmelic” the
only branches Father Cane held necessary for a
practical education. Learning grammar, rhetoric
or philosophy he thought a useless waste of time,
and, in the case cf females, positively sinful and
flying in the face of Providence.
I came home no more until late in the afternoon,
then, as I went round to the side of the house where
Jimplecute was fastened by a rope to the largest of
the row of green, perfumed orange trees, I saw my
small friend watching forme, pulling her rope out
to its utmost length that she might peep at me
round the corner. The little black hand went out
for a shake, then seized upon the bucketand eagerly
pulled off the lid, grinning in hungry delight over
the remains of the dinner she was sure to find. Es
pecially w'elcome was a lump of sugar, and the re
mainder of syrup in the bottle, was the occasiou of
much smacking of lips. But the greatest occasion
of jollity was when I was able to bring home cliin-
quepins or pea nuts in my pocket. Having once
found nuts in that receptacle. Jimplecute never
failed to search it running her paw to the bottom of
the pocket and turning it inside out before she
would be satisfied. When every thing else failed,
1 could sometimes bring acorns which[my comrade
ate, but often made a wry face over.
Having thoroughly cleaned out the pocket, Jim
plecute wiped her hands and sat down by me to try
on my home-knit school gloves—an occupation of
which she was very fond. If I studied, site took
another book and moved her lips as I did mine, and
turned a leaf whenever I did.
It was a curious study to watch her habits. She
had the instinct of cleanliness and housewifery, or
else site had been taught these habits by a former
owner. She lived in a goods box and slept on a
piece of quilt. From my window above, I could see
her in tlie morning when she woke, shake and told
the quilt and pat it carefully and then sit down ai d
scour her tin plate with an old rag, and place it
against the side of the good’s box.
One day when I came from school, I did not see
the little black paw clinging to the side of the house
and the little face peering eagerly round it for me.
When I approached nearer, I saw the reason, Jim
plecute had something In her arms, hugged up to
her bosom, moth' r-fashion. On coming close I saw
it was a rusty-black mite ofakitteu—a mother-less
offcast, that the cook had that morning commis
sioned one of her small retainers to throw into the
horse pond. But the boy,instead, thought it would
be fuu to fling the helpless creature into the mon
key’s box, and see Jimplecute tear it in pie- es.
But instead of harming the creature, the monkey
took it tenderly' up and caressed it. She had held
it ever since! delying her persecutors to take it
trom her byTVenemeut jaoueriug and krimace’S,
suggestive to them of the claws and teeth whose
sharpness they had experienced. So Jimplecute
had been left in happy possession of the kitten.
When she saw me she ran forward, holding up the
kitten in one paw for my sympathetic inspection.
I Site did not forget (lie bucket, and truth obliges me
to state that the first fragment she abstracted—a
morsel of sweet cake—found its way to her mouth,
but the next which was a chicken bone, was offered
to kitty, and farther investigation of the bucket
** .he grounds, me home
ring my red eyes. Father h fov poor
m next day, and I resume ‘ coming
lecute. At last, I heard a ‘ "^ went in.
j.ncon nm llucket. 1 " u, ‘
From the leg of was postponed while Jimplecute grinned and
capered with delight to see her cat baby eat. Poor
starved instinct of motherhood! asserting itself in
my dumb female comrade, who perhaps had a dim,
sorrowful recollection of a baby of her own, or at
least had the stirrings of sacred maternity in her
breast
After that, the broken remnants of my school din
ners were shared between the two, but poor kitty’s
appetite was small at first and Kept diminishing
for the cutis and brusesi she had formerly received
were not to be cured with present kindness and
soon brought her short lite to a close.
She died in the night. One morning when I went
round as usual to see my friend before going to
lcfiool, she came to meet me, holding up the dead
kitten, and looked from it to me with a troubled
wistful look of inquiry. She did uot understand the
misfortune that had befallen her companion. When
she found I could not help her, her trouble seemed
to increase, but site wouldn't give up the lifeless kit
ten until it was stolen lrom her arms when she was
asleep.
After that, I was sent for to go home, and I bid my
friend under the orange trees goodbye, and did not
see her for a week or more. During that time,
amid all the allurements of home, and the joy of
possessing a baby sister and a full box of fish-hooks
I did not forget Jimplecute. It was warm weather
and the thought of her suffering for water, as well
as food, came to me with a pang. I dreamed of see
ing the little round face peeping for me and my
bucket round the corner, and of seeing her creep
disappointed back to her box, to gather the old quilt
around her and sit moaning in her pitiful, human
fashion,
One stormy night I laid awake and, miserable,
thinking how the rain drove into Jimplecute’s
goods-box and chilled her poor little tropical frame.
I was quite willing, for Jlmplecute's sake, to re
turn to Father Cane and the ‘ retlimetic.” I went
straight to see my favorite. She had been sick; the
. , . little paw she held out to me so eagerly was hot
o good old Mr. Cane should increase my knowl- fever, and her face looked shriveled and yet
I more sorrowful, and she did not enjoy my-treat of
cliinquepins, though she fished them out of my
pocket and piled them in her old tin plate. I know
now that the monkey’s bane, consumption had
fastened upon her. It is the disease of which most
monkeys die when brought from their native land
of perpetual summer. j
But Jimplecute was to have a more sad and vio- i
lent end. lean hardly bear to think of it now—
but! have promised myselfto sketch my poor friend’s
ent me honr. e
Pityi
at noon
from thTmidst of a dense plum u ” cke me ,
«d— 1 “ rrl
S«t°tCa thfif anti
little comrade was done with the Louie an
fe Can you wonder that I do not look “Pon nKmkeys
as mere comical burlesques of humanity tha I see
a wistful, appealing sadness in their roundley*,
whether they gaze at me from behind the bars of a
cage or look up in my face as they dance n obedi
ence to the master of the hand-organ rigged out
inapoor littie red jacket or short, skirt? I always
shake the little black paws poked out through the
iron bars in remembrance of Jimplecute and look
ing into their strange eyes, say to myself: II you
are not our ancestors, may you not he a kin
dred species-creatures made by some aspiring spir
it in the world’s dim ages? Some spirit which had
not power to complete his work, but left it unfin
ished, and burdened forever with the half comic,
half tragic sorrow of his own self-mock ery and de-
The Cash Boy.
An old lady from the country in a calico^ dress
and a sun bonnet of the same came out of Keelv s
mammoth dry goods establishment the other day
pretty indignant. Said-she, ‘them there clerks with
their hair parted behind and their shirt bosoms
likewise and their haukerchers scented fit to make
yer sneeze, needn't try to come their fiim flams on
me. They treated me with the outmost condensa
tion’s long’a they could git anything out o’ me,
but no sooner had one o’ ’em found that two yards
o" caliker and a hank o’ yarn was all I wanted,than
he began screaming out ‘Gash!’ afore he’d half done
’em up. I jest told him that if I didn’t have a tail
two yards long a dangling to the eend of my gow n
and a bonuit on the tip eend o’ my r pug, I wasn t to
be insulted by a popinjay like him. He looked
cheap enough, l can tell yer, and tried to make an
explication. But I guess they don t think much on
him at the shop, for no sooner did i take niy puss
out o’ my r ridicule than up steps a raal purty little
boy, no bigger’u our Steve, and takes the money
right out o’ the hand of that sarse box.
A »«g- with the Yellow Fever.
Dr. Sternberg sende the following to the Nation,
al Board of Health at Washington: “Exposure of
animals (two dogs, tw r o cats, one monkey, two rab
bits, three Guinea pigs, two geese-and three chick
ens) upon the infected bark, John Welsh, Ji", for
two days, was uot fallowed by' any noticeable
symptoms except in the case of one dog. This
unimal returned from the ship in apparent good
heelth, but on the following day a sharp attack of
fever was developed, which continued two days;
(he temperature reached 107 degrees, and there was
active delirium, follow'ed by coma. The dog re
covered, and more experiments must be made be
fore an opinion can be given as to whether this at
tack of fever resulted from exposure to the yellow
feye r poison. ”
Augustus Schutz, formerly Consul at Coquim-
bo, Chili, died at Rye Beach, New Hampshire,
Saturday, aged 52 years.
A BSILLIANT
Announcement.
edge.
Jimplecute was certainly the “unwelcome guest”
at Salubrity'. Nobody wanted her, nobody knew
what to do with her; she had to be tied to be kept
out of mischief. Her purchaser was speedily dis
gusted with his bargain, especially as the monkey
exhibited a strong aversion to him and to all per
sons of his color. Aunt Harriet Stowe and uncle
W’endell Phillips could never have converted Jim
plecute into a lover of the race of Ham. Either history and turn the humble, sorrowful picture to
she had suffered in person from the sticks and
stones and tail-pulling of the small negroes, or her
ancestors had bean pursued by the African race for
roasting purposes, and their aversion had been en
tailed according to the new doctrine of heredity'.
Be that as it may, Jimplecute’s hatred of the negro
was intense and she was never so happy as when
she saw one of them getting a flogging. Then she
would clap her hands, chatter wildly and jump up
and down on the work bench close to which she
was tied with an agility that reminded me of Tom
0. Shanter’s dancing witch. Cutty Sark. The day*
when the little darkies brushed the yard under the
supervisions of the black cook was a feast to Jimple
cute lor they were all sure to get a thrashing at the
hands of Maum Katy and their yells were sweet
music to the revengeful ears of Jimplecute. The
negroes cordially repaid the feeling in kind, and,
instead of recognizing the tie of kindred between
the wall of memory.
Jimplecute had rallied from her fever and seemed
almost well as usual, when one Sunday, as we were
coming from church, I heard shrill little screams of
intense pain as we neared the house, aud looking
out a sight met my eyes I cau never forget. It was
Jimplecute with blood streaming from her blinded
eyes aud her little face convulsed with agony. I
understood it in a moment; a few days betore she
had slightly bitten the hand of a negro boy who
kept cruelly poking her up with a sharp stick.as
she lay sick and suffering. This was his revenge.—
He had put out the little creature's eyes; and crazed
with pain she had broken her chain and was hunt
ing those she thought might relieve her. Hearing
my voice in a passionate outburst of grief, she came
to me and caught my hand and carried it up to her
bleeding eyes. Then as she heard the voice of her
prosecutor in indignant denial, she ran off in min
gled terror and pain. We went to look for her but
The Sunny South for the Masses.
A GREAT COMBINATION
- OF —
SOUTHERN TALENT.
i:\i. 110; 1:11 to
Forty-Eight Columns.
We shall soon announce the grand
est newspaper scheme ever before essay
ed in the South. We are contracting
for a series of Sketches and Sermons
from
1st. The Leading Ministers of the South
2d. The most distinguished literati.
3d. The most prominent editors.
4th. The most celebrated Humorists.
5th. The most distinguished politicians.
6th. The most popular Ladies.
7 th. The most successful farmers.
Sth. The most distinguished doctors.
9th. The most eminent lawyers.
10th. The most distinguished railroad
men.
A.nd in addition to the foregoing we
are arranging with a celebrated pencil
delineator for a series cf popular and
characteristic Southern Scenes. This
will he a new and permanent feature of
this paper, and the entire make-up of
the Sunny South will be far in ad
vance of anything ever before attemp
ted in Southern journalism.
Will the Southern people sustain us
in getting up this expensive bill of fare ?
We have struggled nobly against the
financial embarrassments of the past
four years, and now when abundant
prosperity is inviting us forward, we
trust the masses will manifest a lively
appreciation of our efforts to furnish the
South with a family journal of the first
and highest order.