Newspaper Page Text
1 *
The Doeile Girl, the Eta
Animated Girl and UN
New York Giil ef !
[Blakely HaSlhtan
What has become of the get
eile young girl? She apart
waa usually coniidaisfyge.'be
fetching thffig Id girls (rafaaKJMfently (he
placidly drifted oat of sight, idnBPn her stead
the (lashing, wide-eyed and blooming girl <who
holds the field to-day. There Is sometMag
VOL
1886.
i. H. & W. B. SEALS } raOTM * r <»*’
ATLANTA, QA
Terms in Advance J&ssaima
USU COPY, SO.
Aunt Susan Parker
On The Witness Stand
BY E.F. ANDREWS-
Aunt Susan Parker was a pious old widow of
many years standing who kept a small public
house Just across the road from Dan Pitman’s
store at Dodson’s Fork on Broad River. She
was known all over the neighborhood slat.
“Aunt Susan”—a title which was considered In
those days quite ss respectful as the ceremoni
ous Mrs. Parker, and fv more neighborly. ’
Having no children of her own, aunt Susan
bad adopted a scapegrace nephew. Dave Little,
who was always getting Into not water himself,
and dragging his worthy kinswoman In after
him, or as she expressed It, “Dave ken’ her
that tore up In her mind all toe time, tell she
eouldn’t see no peace.’’ But in spite of bis
"tearing up’’ propensities, Dave remained, the
apple of aunt Susan’s eye and darling of her
heart, a weakness In which shecanbynomdkns
be said to have stood alone among her sex.
Annt Susan eould neither read nor write, but
Dave could do both, and could even cipher, It
was said, as far as the Rule of Thftoe, so he was
entrusted with the management of the old lady's
accounts, which he kept entirely to his own
satisfaction, U not always to aunt Susan’s ad
vantage. Dave’s literary attainments did not,
however, raise him above a taste for cockfights,
gander pullings, old sledge and othfg popular
amusements of hts day, and It was nit exploits
In connection with one of these that brought
aunt Susan Into the predicament about to be
described.
On the occasion of a certain fourth of July
militia muster at the Fork, the patriots, after
their drill was over, had assembled at Dan Pit
man’s store and concluded the material exer
cises of the day with a cook fight. The cock
fight, In Its turn, ended with a fist fight, In which
Dave Little and Whack Billups were principals.
Whack was the bully of the settlement, and
owed his nlek-name to the success with which
he had more than once whacked bis man. but
this time the tables were turned and. Whack
came out of the conflict miops four
teeth and his right eye. Hh 1 brought
suit against Dave at the next term of court, for
assault and battery, and Aunt Susan, who had
observed the fray from her front door, was sum
moned as a witness (or the deferise. -
She had never been In a court-room before,
and was at first a little over-awed, but after lis
tening awhile to the proseeutlon, she became
so wrought up that as soon as her name was
lUadjihe' ~ —
U in tbe Bible, and even ministers of the gospel
swear in court when required.”
At these words aunt Susan looked worse eon-
founded than ever. She bad long felt misgiv
ings that these town preachers were growing
worldly; and now that one of them, and a Bap
tist at that, should counsel her to swear I
But the Judge was becoming impatient, and
backed the minister’s argument with a gentle
reminder that If the witness persisted in her
refusal it would be his painful duty to send her
to Jail lor contempt of court.
“What! me go to Jail, Jedge, Jest fur not
wantin’ to swarf” cried aunt Susan, turning
P ile; “an’ the minister agin me, tool Well, ef
must, I must, then; damn !" And she brought
her fist down on the word with an energy that
showed she meant It, and meant It hard, ton
Then, without more ado, she stalked out of the
house, mounted tbe little painted cart in which
she usually drove to town, and was well on her
way baek to Dodson’s Fork before the court
could recover itself sufficiently to continue the
case.
LOVE.
A Literary Curiosity—Compiled by F.
P. Davis.
[A different author to each line. See the names
below.]
1. True love’s the gilt wbleh God hath given;
2. On earth of all we hope In Heaven.
3. Heaven’s harmony Is universal love;
4. ’Tls love that rules the realms above.
5. True love bath no unworthy thought;
6. Love gives Itself, hut Is not bought.
7. Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart;
8. How hard thy yokel How cruel Is thy dart!
9. From sweet, sweet love, oh! who would
roam?
10. No love like mother love ever has shown.
11. Love’s voice doth sing as sweetly In a beggar
as a king;
12. And If ’tls lost, life has no more to bring.
13. My idol was shattered, my earth star fled;
14. Whom fins we love, you know, we seldom
wed.
is. But fortune Is eruel snd love Is blind;
n. Love looks not with the eye, hut with the
mind.
17. Hall, wedded love, mysterious law 1
18. Oh I happy state 1 when souls other
draw
1 21. Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
22. The heart that has truly loved can never
forget.
“Jedfce.fhar ain’t one word er truth In
pack er suuff what them Billupses has ben a
sayln’ of,” sbe blurted out before anybody
eould stop her. “I seed the whole thing mysef,
with my own eyes, a stannln’ In my front do,
an’ ’twas Wbaek what hit the fust lick, an’ Dave
a-doln’ nothin’ ’tall to him, an’ ef he did gouge
his eye out, hit warn’t no mo’n Wbaek was a
aimin’ to do to him, an’ wuss, too, an’ did come
mighty nigh to kill nlm with that oudacloos lick
he give him in tbe chlst. tell Dave was that slek
all next night an’ day with his retchin’ an’ vom-
lekln’ that ef I hadn’t er stopped It with some
lye water an’ tansy, he’d a done flong up both
his lungs."
Here Aunt Susan paused tor breath, and tbe
fudge, staggered at the reported condition ot
Dave’s lungs, made use of the opportunity to
give the witness a gentle admonition.
“My good woman,” he said solemnly, “you
are now going to he put under oath, and I mast
caution you to weigh carefully wnat you say,
and not let your natural instincts hurry you Into
making assertion that it may be difficult to
matntaln.” .
“Why, Jedge,” replied Aunt Susan, casting
her eyes down with a deeply wounded air, “I
didn’t think you’d a-spoke like that to a re
spectable widder womaD, an’ right here befo’
all the cote, too.” . „ . „
Judge Dawson was presiding at the time, a
man of most courtly manners, and thinking ne
had wounded the witness by tbe slight rebuke
Implied In his words, hastened to apologize.
“Of course I did not mean that you would in
tentionally allow yourself to be unduly biased
In favor of your kinsman, Mrs. Parker,” he said
deprecatlngly, “hut we are ad human, you
know, madam; we all have our natural in
stincts ; you don’t deny that you have natural
Instincts, do yon, Mrs. Parker?’’
“Hit may be nateral to some folks, Jedge,” re
plied the good woman blushing, and looking
more Injured than ever, “but this is the fust
time In iny life that ever anybody ’lowed to me
that I stink, an’ I know I do wash myself keer-
ful every Sadday night.”
The judge was so astounded at this Interpre
tation ot his remarks, that It was some time be
fore he could recover himself sufficiently to or
der the witness to be sworn. Aunt Susan ap
peared thunderstruck at this requirement.
“Why jedge!” she exclaimed, “yon alnt in
eamist about wantin’ot me to swar, air you?”
“Certainly, Mrs. Parker,” replied the Judge
courteously, “the law requires that all witness
es shall swear before their testimony is taken.”
“What, me swar—a respectable widder wo
man an’ member er the church! why jedge, you
saint mean that I”
“Why do you object?” asked the judge. “You
don’t belong to .the scocietyof Friends, do
^*“1 dunno nothin’ about no society,” answer
ed the witness, “but I’m one er Dave’s friends,
ef that’s what yon mean an’ he’s got plenty
more ’em too, what’U stand by every word I
seh. Thar’s Miss Fowler, an’ Dan Pitman, an’
the Burrowses, an’ the Teaks, and everybody
what got their vlttels at our house that day;
they’11 all tell you ’twas Whack hit the fust
lick.”
“Well then, cant’t you swear to so simple a
fact?” put In the judge.
“Me swar? Law, jedge, you don’t raley mean
that, an’ me a respectable Christian woman In
good standin’; they’d turn me outer the church
afore you could turn round, ef I was to do sech
a thing as that” . _
“Whatchorohdoyon belong to?” asked the
^°“Rock Spring Chureh, an’ brother Cullom he
don’t Tow of no cussln’ an’ swartn’ among his
members, I kin tell you I Jake Cassen was
turned out at the last monthly sessions fur cus-
sinofhlspa.” . . _
“But my good woman,” interposed Dave’s
counsel, “you dont understand, it is only a
legal oath we want you to take—there Is no
profane swearing at court.” „ ,
“I alnt never heem er no respectable Chris
tian woman a swarin’, perfane nor no other
sort." declared aunt Susan, “an’ I aint a goin’
to start no sech practices at my time er life, an’
me ben a church member in good standin’ fur
twenty-five year.” , „ . „ ,
“But, Mrs. Parker,” persisted the lawyer,
“your church surely does not object to a legal,
oath; ministers themselves take it when neces
sary. I will send for one if yon desire,” struck
with a happy idea, “and let him convince you.
“Of what denomination are you a member?”
“Baptis’:" ejaculated aunt Susan with energy.
“1 was babtized by Jesse Mercer hissef twenty-
five year ago; and wouldn’t them Metbodis’
sisters over at Caney Fork make a nice bit er
talk ef they was to beer that sister Susan Par
ker bad a hen turned outer the church for
■warin’ !**
The Baptist minister of the village, who had
been sent for at the suggestion of Dave’s coun
sel soon arrived and undertook to do away with
aunt Susan’s scruples.
“You need not hesitate to take a legal oath,
Ister Parker.” he began, when the old lady bad
23. Look love upon me with thine eyes;
24. Her lips suck forth my soul, see where
files.
25. Too fair to worship, too divine to love;
26. ’Twill cheer my eyes more than the lamps
above.
27. Faith, hope and love, best boons to mortals
given;
28. They looketh to the stars, and dream
Heaven.
29. Love flings a halo round the dear one’s head,
30. A love to film to whom all loves are wed.
31. Love is the ehild of bliss and woe;
32. Whatever things are sweet, love makes them
so.
33. He spake of love, such love as spirit’s feel;
34. Bat those who feel it most are happier stuL
35. And love was In each earnest tone;
36. He swore he would love but me alone.
37. Oh hearts that break and give no sign;
38. ’Tis long since love made life divine.
They sin who tell us love can die;
40. Thou only bloomest everlastingly.
1. Scott
2. Foe.
3. Cowper.
4. H. K. White.
5. Ben Johnson.
6. Longfellow.
7. Otway.
8. Prior.
21. Tennyson.
22. Moore.
23. Proctor.
24. Marlowe.
25. Henry Hart Milman.
26. John Norris.
27. Charles Mackay.
28. Miss Landon.
9. Dinah Maria Cralk. 29. Mrs. Norton.
10. Mrs. Akers.
11. Decker.
12. ByroD.
13. Eliza Cook.
14. Owen Meridlth.
15. Halpine.
16 Shakespeare.
17. Milton.
18 Pope.
19. Barns.
20. Lyttleton.
30. Fletcher.
31. Bailey.
32. Alice Cary.
33. Wordsworth.
34. Shelley.
35. Geo. D. Prentice.
36. Mrs. Browning.
37. O. W. Holmes.
38. Gerald Massey.
39. Southey.
40. Edward Moxon
ItatodhM difficulties; “there Is nothing against Courier-JoumaL
MORSELS OFGASTRONOMY.
[New York Mail and Express. 1
French asparagns has come, and now for the
annual discussion how to eat it.
Spring lamb Is now paltable. The only thing
against it Is tbe price per pound.
| Strawberries are cheap enough now to be
served at some of the fashionable hotels.
Russian caviar on toast Is served as hors
d’ceurves. Any nonsense Is pardonable nowa
days.
Fried bananas with a sauce of Catawba wine
are said to be “delicious.” It is all a matter of
taste, however.
Hotel bread-pudding is just as mysteriouf as
hash, even with a ridiculous sauce with an un
known French name.
Mince pie and plum padding are now out of
season In all civilized communities, according
to the best authority.
A few more days and oysters will be ont of
season for people who have confidence in the
letter R in the month.
The modern epicure gives It as his opinion
that roast chicken should, like partridge, be
eaten with bread sance.
Society is compared to a pie. There is an up
per and a lower crust, but the real strength and
substance lie between tbem. This gastronomic
facetiousness should be credited to tbe New
Haven Jfews.
Incident ef Mr. Hendricks’ Boyhood-
A boy, the son of a poor widow, attended the
seminary. One cold November morning the
boy came to school bare-foot, as he had no
shoes. During tbe forenoon there was a heavy
snowstorm. At noon tbe barefoot boy went to
the front door when school was dismissed, bnt
turned back to re-enter the school-room, as he
could not go ont in such a storm in his naked
feet Young Hendricks knew all about his
poverty, and, following him into the school
room, Insisted on taking off his shoes and lend
ing them to the poor boy to wear home. “You
can send them baek by sister Nannie, whom I
will get to go home with you.” The boy ac
cepted the proffered kindness, acd Hendricks
sat in the school-room in his stocking feet till
hts sister returned with his shoes.—Louisville
W-
u
COTTOU
STATER
UMil
THE “DINNER HORNS” USED IN THE DIFFERENT STATES.
A DOWN-EAST “BLOOMER.”
THE SOUTH.
What a Milwaukee Journalist Thinks
of the South-
How an Eccentric Maine Woman Earns
Her Living-
Augusta, Me.—There Is at least one woman
in Maine who wears the “bloomer” costume.
She lives in the neighboring city of Hallowell,
and her name is Emmaline Prescott. 8he Is a
tall, spare maiden, about 50 years of age, of
modest appearance and courteous in her speech.
A kinder and more benevolent sonl never lived.
. Her occupation Is peddling knick-knacks, which
she carries with her in a black leather bag.
She has been on the road a quarter of a century,
and has traveled thousands of miles on foot.
Although her figure is familiar to everybody
in these parts, still it always attracts ; tie ltlon
on account of her rig, which sbe has w «rn for
over twenty years. It is made of drab-colored
woolen stall, and consists of a short, loose sack,
a plain fnU skirt that reaches to the knee,
and tight fitting pants that come down to the
ankle. Her toggery gives fnU liberty to her I
limbs, and sbe wears it, she says, not only for
comfort, but because she believes that if every I
woman discarded petticoats and draggling |
dresses, and pntwu a skirt Uke hers, it would be
dresses, and pntwn a skirt Uke hers, it would be
better (or their health. Her hair is cut short
Uke a man’s, and Is parted on one side. The
only thing about ner to distinguish her sex Is
New
[Blakely
i scene^sad the
end
left her I was wont at times to go off
secluded corner, where nobody but thwaan hi
the moon eould see, snd indulge In gfrtmmt to
a wholly Indecent extent. She was e deep girl.
I have known her at times to surreptitiously
accomplish the erection of a romance which con
cerned the love of a slothful girl with a tangled
mass of bine-black hair for a Tam bent-eyed man,
wbossdlstingnlshlng characteristics were a ram
and brilliant smile and a fondness for talking
about things he evidently knew nothing what
ever about. In words ten syllables long. She
called him Egbert, Bryce or C'are. and usually
signed the romance “Marione. ’ I don’t know
why she added the flaal “e”—anther did she.-
Tne animated girl with a eu 'fc of artificial
merriment came romping on urn i
elegant” girl stood
ei& thing lu gjlris '<Lvn~S5
the others ont bf favor, land for, a time New
York would have no other girl bnt the one who
was perpetually on her toes and squeaking ont
her rapturous delight at everybody and every
thing on earth. She chatted of “sasstety,” ot
“sets,” “classes,” and “families,” and though
she may at heart have been artful, cunning,
crafty and Insincere, or simply sentimental,
weakly and Inane, her manner was ever that of
a pure and artless young thing. Was she ever
tiresome? Did her perpetual outbursts of en
thusiasm and delight cause you at times to stop
aside and drop a hot and iscaldlng tear of pity
(or her? It did. Of all the fashions in girls
this was by far the least loveable.
Which brings us to the New York girl of to
day, with her red hussar Jacket, smart little
turban, erect carriage and easy swing. She
owns tbe world. The easy play of the features,
tbe superb color, and the eyes that look a man
square In the face and achieve his maudlin sub
jection at a glance are familiar to us all. We
forgive her affectation of tbe English, for when
sbe speaks of “row-dy-dows” it Is with a quiz
zical smile and her boldness Is never anything
out charming. Sbe is natural at least, and at
her best, ana no man dare remind her of the
time when she was “docile,” or “v legant,” or
“animated”—and for that matter, no man eares
to, for the present fashion In New York girls la
not to be lightly tampered with or treated with
anything but abject and entire admiration.
THE SWEETEST NAME.
Likewise the Commonest Among Fem
inine Appellations.
(Chicago News )
More women have been named Mary than
any other name which has blessed or cursed
the feminine sex. It stands as the typical name
for the holiest and most abject of women—for
the virgin and the wanton. And in every lan
guage of Asia and Europe, as well as that of
Egypt, this name appears almost without va
riation. It has been an equal favorite with tbe
aristocrats of-Fracce and the puritans of New
England, and it equally becomes literature or
kitchen. It is stately when we speak of Lady
Mary Worthy Montague: it is simplicity Itself
when wa refer to Mary O’Brien who brings In
onr breakfast rolls. At one time it may bring
up a picture of a divine painted face, hanging
In the rich gloom of an Italian gallery, and at
another of a red-cheeked dairymaid, with her
bare feet in the dasled grass. Two of England’s
fire queens have born It, and the most memo
rable woman that Scotland ever produced has
made It immortal. The proudest women ot
France have dignified it. aud the worst women
ot Rnssia have disgraced It. There are as maay
Marys smiling at the circling sons that » ake
the brief summer by the northern sea as loll
through toe luxurious days by the Mediterra
nean. Tbe name that the Catholic missionaries
:ave to the first converted Indian maiden was
lary, and perhaps the first daughter of every
family for all time will stand In imminent dan-
;er of bearing that name, for it is the first to
>e considered la naming girl babies, and when
rejected is always thongnt of with lingering
tenderness. How many lovers have loved It!
How they have associated it with purity and
gentleness, with womanliness, and candor, and
trust! Wnata fateful name it Is! Its bearer
seems predestined to sorrow, yet it is gladsome,
too. “My mother’s name was Mary.” Wnat a
peasant thing to say I “My little daughter
nary./ Could anything be prettier? “My sis
ter Mary, who Is dead.” What a wealth of ten
der suggestions! ‘Mary, my wife.” What
picture ot home comfort.
STRY8 SORROW-
128 Death’s Reported as the Result of
the Recent Conflagration.
Vienna, April 24.—The total number of
deaths which have resulted from the conflagra
tion which recently devastated the town of Stry
is 128. The greater number were caused di-
recuy by the flames, but many ot the unfortu
nate people died from exposure, while some
died of fright and a lew committed suicide in
despair ever their losses. The burgomaster
estimates that it will cost at least $1,200,000 to
rebuild the bouses. The loss on private prop
erty was $900,000. The Vienna and Cracow in
surance companies are liable for $290 009 of
these losses.
[Milwaukee Journal ]
Mobile, Ala.—The long, lanky editor of a
Northern paper, who went to Canada to dodge
the draft, insists that the rebel brigadiers are
again In tbe saddle ready for another assault on
the Union. He whispers to those who will lis
ten that the Southern man still bates his North,
era brother with all tbe atdor ol bis son-bred
nature. As usual, the organ editor lies. I have
spent six weeks looking lor unconstructed citi
zens, without finding one. On the contrary, the
visitor from the North Is impressed with the
cordiality which mai ks his reception here, and
the spirit of national pride that is manifested.
A spectacle not nnlreqnently beheld Is that of
an ex-Confederate soldier, who gave one of his
legs to feed Utcle Sam’s bullets, steadying him
self with a crutch while he praises with gener
ous gesticulation this great and glorious nation.
I have not beard tbe late unpleasantness spoken
ot except when the subject was broaebea by a
Northerner. Ot course there are bourbons here
who cannot understand that we have passed
from the 60’s to the 80’s, bnt the average South
erner would fight for tbe Union to-day.
Tbe story of the business life of the South is a
sad one. It may have been a gnest at toe Rip
Van Winkle banquet; It bas certainly slep for
twenty years, ana Is now straightening ont Its
legs preparatory to going forth to learn what
and where it is. It wili find as much happiness
and prosperity as Rip did at the end of toe jour
ney. There Is no limit to its resources; to the
right and to tbe left one can see fortunes, bat
there Is nobody here to reach ont his hand and
take them. One rides through miles of splendid
country that bears no sign ot life. Immigration
Is the first great need; no effort has yet been
made to seoure new citizens. Is It likely peo
ple would go Into such a frantic scramble to
settle on Dakota blizzards If they Knew of the
advantages ot small capital and day laborers?
But the Northwest will be exhausted sooner or
later, and the tide of immigration will flow
Southward. Then, and not till then, snail we
know the New South. It Is not probable this
metamorphosis will be completed early enough
to benefit the present generation.
At Laredo, Texas, Alexander Menley and a
yonng man named Burbank spent a night in
playing pin-pool, while Henry Douglass, an
alderman aid a railroad employee, watched the
game. Early in the morning they all repaired
to a hotel bar, where a quarrel ensuing between
Menley and Burbank, tne former drew hts re
volver and fired. The bullet grazed Burbank
and passed through Douglass’ heart. Menley
was arrested. There was a good deal of excite
ment over the trsgedy, and threats of lynching
were made. Douglass was from Pennsylvania,
and was one of the most popular railroad men
in that section of Texas. i
DIXIE’S DEAD PRIEST.
Touching Tribute* to the Memory of
Father Ryan-
Louisville, Ky., April 24.—The remains of
Father Ryan lay In state at tbe Franciscan mo
nastery this morning, and were viewed by a con
stant stream of friends and admirers of the late
poet priest At 10:30 o’clock they were removed
to St Boniface’s church, where brief funeral
services were held. The ex-Confederate sol
diers of this elty attended the funeral In a body,
and a committee of their number—among whom
were many distinguished ex-Confederate offi
cers, Judges of the United States and State
Courts and prominent citizens—acted as pall
bearers and a funeral escort They carried
with tbem a floral cross and crown, to which
was attached a card Inscribed, “Love and sym
pathy ol the ex-Conlederate soldiers of Louis
ville.” The body was borne to the depot ac
companied by a committee and shipped to Mo
bile, where it will be Interred. Before remov
ing the remains from the monastery tbe Con
federate veterans assembled at the bier, where
Gen. Alpheus Baker read resolutions express
ive of tne deep sorrow occasioned by Father
Ryan’s death and of the love and veneration in
wnlch he was held by his old comrades. A
copy of the resolutions was ordered sent to tbe
deceased’s sister at Kansas City and to the
Archbishop at Baltimore.
her head covering in summer, which is generally I DANGEROUS EXCITEMENT-
a plain sailor hat ot straw. In winter sbe sports I
a fur cap. tied down with a red worsted com-1 Galician Peasants Afraid of Being Mas*
forter, which is entwined around her neck, with . , ...
the ends banging down her back. Every house- fiacreu DJT ttte HO Diet-
keeper knows _ Emmaline, and generally buys J VamrA) AprU dangerous state of ex;
citement exists among tbe ignorant peasantry
of Galicia, Austria-Hungary, owing to a rumor
that the government intends to restore the
Are There too Many Workers in the I forced labor law, and to a report that the aristo-
, crats are organizing a massacre of the Polish
W oria t I peasants, In revenge for atrocities which the
When there is so mneh talk ahont the over- I peasants committed npon the nobles in 1846.
wnentnereis so mnen talk ahont tne over ’g£ cret meetings are being held by the peas-
productlon of everything, this becomes an Into- snts> a majority of whom are armed. The no
resting question. One of our most practical I bles are taking refuge in the cities. Forces of
writers nn Annnnmio* «av»- cavalry and infantry have been disposed
writers on economics says. throughout Galicia. Several agitators, whoare
“There are no surplus men in the world; when | supposed to be Russians, have been arrested
any one appears to be so he is only in the wrong there. The government is taking measures to
lace. Enable him to go elsewhere, and teach | mUm and disabuse the minds ol the peasants.
some trinket of ner. Rumor has it that she was
once disappointed in love. She is a strong Ad
ventist.
Aim that he shall, if need be, do something else,
and be Is no longer surplus, but highly necessa
ry to civilization. More than one-hall of our
planet still lies waste and useless, and suffers
tor lack of strong arms and stont hearts to re
deem it. * * * Those only can hope to bene
fit both themselves and their fellow-laborers
who, when they find their occupation over
crowded. have courage enough to seek a new
calling, and, if possible, a new field of labor.”
Fred Donglass advises tbe colorod people to
scatter tnemselves all over the country. He is
convinced that so long as they remain massed
in the South they cannot accomplish much.
Every steamer leaving the port of San Fran
cisco takes away in the neighborhood of four
hundred tons of dried shrimps and fish in the
proportion 150 tons of shrimps, 200 tons ot sar
dines, salmon, etc ., and fifty tons of shrimp
sheets and fish manure. The shrimps are the
most valuable, bringing in China an average of
$300 per ton. The sardines and salmon are
worth $20 per ton. and the refuse $40 per ton,
of a total of $07 000 tor the 400 tons of product.
For years the shipments averaged three a
month, or thirty-five shipments a year, being an
export of $8,132,000 worth of staff.
plaintive In the memory
She was the dnde of femininity,
row or bowl or ride or walk, bnt
drift modestly along, bland, serene and
like, wearing her eyes aloft, her hair in pretty
curls and her hands lolded submissively In her
lap. When she timidly entered the room and
took her seat In a far corner—a bit of laee hand
kerchief In one band and “Lncllle” In the other,
and began to ooo In her mild and earnest way
about the hollownesa ot life, large, bony and
robust men fell proetrate before her, and she
meekly gathered them in. She did it mildly,
but she gathered them in.
She waa succeeded by the girl who was usu
ally described as “elegant.” This particular
fashion In girls was never very popular with
men, bnt It was Immensely affected by women.
The “elegant” girl was graceful in mien, polite,
refined and usually immersed In a dim and en
tirely unfounded mystery spoken of In meaning
whispers by her companions of an “affair.” The
“elegant” girl never impressed me mnen.
confess In a deprecatory way that aftMJ
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