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. THE SUNNY SOUTH
1 I
GLADYS.
She’s only a wee little bit of a girl.
And her nose is tip-tilted and red;
With nary a tooth in her mouth, nor a curl
To set off her tiny bald head.
A plain little, pink little bit of a tot,
That wriggles and slobbers and cries,
And makes funny faces at—gracious knows what!
And rubs dimpled fists in her eyes.
The funniest, tiniest, bare-footed fay,
With twain etrie eyen of blue,
That goggle and gleam in her efforts to say
Something that begins with a “goo. - ’
And just what that “thing” is, I never could know,
Her ma must, of course, understand;
For daily I hear them both jabbering low—
Alack! I’ve Dutch at command.
She’s only a round, little minor affair,
In petticoats, bonnet and lace,
Till some one I know often hunts in despair
To plant a sly kiss on her face.
Just merely a wee little bald-headed pet,
That knows how to cry and to coo;
But as Mollie says, and 1 echo “you bet,”
The sweetest the world ever knew!
Orangeburg, S. C.
James Edwin Kerr.
BILL ARP’S ADVICE.
Tells What Should be Done and How to do it.
Keep Your Books Balanced.
I T IS A GOOD PLAN for a man to bal
ance up his books once or twice in a
while and see how the account stands.
I don’t mean his money accounts nor
his debts and credits, but his blessings
and afflictions. In doing this he should
tote fair with himself and his Creator. He
should not magnify his troubles nor minify
his blessings and privileges. If one hundred
is the maximum on either side, then light
afflictions whjch are but for a moment, as
St. Paul says, should not be set down at
seventy-five. If the cook quits and the cow
runs away, I wouldn’t put it down at all, for
both have come back just as I expected.
Hope cancels a great many troubles. My
turnip seed have been in the ground eighteen
days, with not a drop of rain to sprout them,
but I am still hoping, and so I won’t put the
turnips down as a lost crop—not yet I won’t,
some dog with two legs, or four, killed my
peafowl while she was setting, and I put that
down at five, for it was a great aggravation,
and it lasts a long time; nothing frets me
more than cruelty to animals, except cruelty
to children. I see young bucks driving fast
horses past my house, and they press them to
their utmost speed, and if ^liorse breaks
they jerk him .and, r .jIujT him unmercifully,
■'a'JdPEhT''A' Tt is smart. 1 would like to see
one of them fellows reined up with a
bit in his mouth and a check-rein drawn
over his head and fastened somewhere, just to
let him feel the agony for a few minutes.
Good health in the family ought to be put
down every day at not less than fifty, for
that is the greatest blessing in life, and per
haps the least appreciated, until we get sick.
One of our boys is sick now from the effects
of sunstroke in Chattanooga a month ago,
and his mother sat up with him all night
last night, and her anxiety is very great.
You see, he is her boy, and she knows it.
There is never any doubt about who is the
mother of a child. But I won’t put that down
at more than twenty on the trouble’s side, for
hope comes in—hope that he will be better
to-morrow. Then again we are all out of jail,
and that is worth something. There are lots
of folks in jail or in the lunatic asylum or
in the poor house, and that is a great afflic
tion, and mighty nigh makes all the figures
to count the misery 1 met an old man in
Arkansas who said: “Mr. Arp, I am eighty-
four years old. Me and my old ’oman have
been livin’ together sixty-two years and have
thirteen livin’ children and lots of grand
children, and nary one hain’t been called to
court for anyhing they’ve done—put that
down—and you may say that me and her have
belonged to the same Baptist church for sixty
years, and all that time I have voted the
democratic ticket—put that down.”
“Hain’t never been called to court.”
Well, that is a big thing—no lawsuits in
the family, no crimes nor bonds, nor jails.
That is worth ten every day on the credit
side. Then, there is peace with the nabors,
and good will all around is another big thing.
And having a home and shade trees and vines
and flowers and good water and gentle breezes
and friends to come and go, and a faithful
dog to warn intruders, and a Jersey cow—
these are all blessings that count up. And
then there is the privilege of living in a
Christian land, under Christian laws and
rulers; and of going to church and worship
ping God according to our conscience. Our
forefathers away back couldn’t do that.
Speaking of worshipping God reminds me of
an eccentric friend who didn’t belong to any
church, but sometimes attended and paid de
vout attention. I met him one Sabbath morn
ing walking fast in that direction, and I said:
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I’m going to church,” said he; “going
to church to worship God—not the preacher.”
“Neither poverty nor riches!” That’s an
other blessing. Pinching poverty we have
never known at our house though it looks
like it is coming,and is almost in hailing dis
tance.
If Mr. Bryan or Mr. McKinley or somebody
don’t do something very soon I don’t know
what will become of us. Somebody is to
blame about all this depression, and if I knew
who it was I would use language on them.
A Republican friend told me to-day that it
was the want of protection to our industries,
and that McKinley would straighten it all
out next year. He said that Vermont had
started the ball to rolling from the Atlantic
to the Pacific ocean. He believes that, and
furthermore, that he will roll into our little
postoffice next year. That’s all right. He
may put down five for hope on his credit side
and I’ll sign his petition if his side wins, for
he is about as clever a man as a Republican
can be, and that is not flattering him very
much But Vermont don’t prove anything,
for they all want protection up there where
there is a little mill on every branch and
waterfall making fish-hooks or hairpins or
jews-harps or suspender buckles or some
thing. Just wait till the West is heard from,
where oats are now selling for thirteen cents
a bushel and the railroads get seven cents
for hauling them to market. What is pro
tection going to do for them ? A writer in
The Reviews of Reviews, a gold standard
monthly, says he has just come from there
and you might as well sing psalms to a dead
horse as to try to convert them from the
silver craze. He says that all the golden lit
erature you send them is thrown into the fire
without reading. The argument is exhausted,
and they are almost fighting mad.
But what troubles some of us is that we are
consumers. We don’t produce anything, and
if free silver at 16 to i makes prices go
up, we will be the sufferers. Reckon I will
have to go back to farming again. There are
a good many of us in the same fix that the
fellow was when he heard that the town
bank had broke—ran all the way home to see
how many of its bills he had. When he got
home he found he dident have any bills on
that bank nor any other bank. When our
bank failed in CartersviJle last year, Tom
Lyon took on and lamented more than any
body. He almost cried. I took him aside
and asked him how much he had on deposit
in that bank. “Nary dollar,” said he; “nary
dollar, but if I had had any money, major,
it would have been in there, and that’s what
the matter with me.”
But hope is a good invention—and “God
tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,” and
“the Lord loveth whom He chasteneth,”
and “sufficient’unto the day is the evil there
of.” And so I’m not going to cross the
bridge before I get to it. I dug a little
basketful of Irish potatoes out of the weeds
and grass yesterday, and set it on the back
piazza and old Sis Cow came along and eat
them all up, but she didn’t know any better,
and Sicily smiled, and said I would get it all
back in milk, and so I didn’t put that down,
but it was very aggravating. May the Lord
help us all to bear the ills of life.
BILL ARP.
How’s This?
We offer One Hundred Dollars reward for any case of
Catarrh that cannot he cured by Hull's Catarrh Cure.
F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo O.
We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney for
the last 15 years, and believe him perfectly honorable in
all business transactions and financiailv able to carry
out any obligation made by their firm. WEbT &
TKUAX, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo. O. WALD1NG,
KINNAM & MARVIN, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo,
Hall’s Catarrh Cure is taken internally, acting direct- *
ly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system.
Testimonials sent free. Price 75c. per bottle. Sold by
all druggists.
WOMEN AFRAID OF MEN.
Their Dread More a Matter of Sentiment
Than Reality.
N EARLY all girls, women in
general, indeed, particularly if
unmarried, pretend to be very
much afraid of men. They may
think this fear specially femi
nine, becoming, attractive, in
as much as it invites protection. They con
tinually speak of “some “horrid man” or of
“dreadful men,” meaning, if they mean any
thing, some abstract ogre or ogres that never
exist save to an inflamed fancy. They
might be thought, by their own accounts,
to live, from 14 to 60, in perpetual dread
of men. When they meet men, when
they are thrown into their society, they
show no signs of trepidation in their
presence. Quite the contrary, in fact. They
appear drawn to them, to like them, spe
cially, to delight in their companionship. If
this were mentioned to them, they would be
apt to say that those men are gentlemen,
not the ruffians, desperadoes, barbarians, that
would do them harm.
The simple truth is that there are not and
never have been, in this country at least, any
such men as women like to conjure up, to
stimulate their imagination and picture ideal
horrors with. The simple truth, is, too, that
women’s fear of man is for the most part a
mere sham, a make-believe, a transparent
bugbear. It is a baseless tradition, a shallow
imposture, handed down from mother to
daughter to produce a sentimental effect, a
romantic delusion.
^ Women are no more apprehensive of man
of a beetle, a toad, or a worm, though they
often try to make themselves think they are
so and have kept up the pretense for number
less generations. Certain insects, reptiles,
may be disagreeable, even repulsive—they
frequently are, doubtless—but women are
not, in any strict sense afraid of them. They
are far too intelligent, and, moreover, they
are nothing like so timorous as they profess
and are generally presumed to be. They
make, as is well known, a vast ado about
trifles, but when they are put to the severest
test, when they are confronted with veritable
horrors, with immediate death, they display
a degree of coolness and courage that no man
can surpass. The finer the woman, the better
bred, the more sensitive, the more delicately
nurtured, the grander heroine she often
proves. She seldom trembles before man;
she knows him too well. We have all read
how Una was followed by a (once) ferocious
lion, tamed by her purity and gentleness.
True, she appears in a famous poem, but it is
symbolic ; it represents the subduing power
of her sex on the most savage animals,
quadrupeds no less than bipeds. All civil
ized people know how the sex overcomes man
frequently in his wildest state; how woman
will vanquish him at the acme of his raving
by her soft, seductive arts. He has everything
to dread from her, and no one is more con
scious of it than she. We talk of men as
women-tamers. What are they to women, as
men-tamers ? Very few women—these are
the rare exceptions—need taming. Most
men do need it—the bulk of them are bar
barians in spirit—and they are readily made
by sisters, wives, sweethearts, without ever
suspecting it. They fondly imagine that
they are forming women by their strong will
and force of character (they believe they can
see the process going on under their eyes)
while they themselves are unconsciously be
ing molded by the wiles and arts of the
shrewd, astute women.
Women afraid of men, for sooth! Why
should they be when they can manage,
wheedle, hoodwink, dazzle the big, hulking
fellows by a glance of the eye, by a motion
of the hand, by a phrase of the tongue? Men
very soon understand the strange, mysterious
power that woman exercises over them and
begin to feel in awe of her. They are aware
that she is dangerous to them in many ways,
dangerous to their peace, dangerous to their
purse, dangerous to their freedom, dangerous
to their self-control. Very young men alone
hurl defiance at woman. Men of experience
comprehend what a formidable foe 'she may
become and do not rashly invite combat.
They are aware that she always carries con
cealed weapons ; that when she looks most
innocent, she may explode, metaphorically,
and blow to atoms all their best purposes, all
their wisest resolutions. Undeniably fear
exists between man and woman, but of recent
years it has been and still is on his side.
In the old days, when man was really a
savage— he yet continues to be to some ex
tent—he wooed her with a club, as William
the Conqueror is said to have wooed.
He was then a great brute, a wild beast, a
mere corporal monster. He was wholly phys
ical. He would beat women, would kill
them, if they angered him, without compunc
tion, without remorse, without shame. Then
they feared him indeed, for he was stronger,
rougher, crueler than they. They could out
wit him occasionally; they could poison him
now and then ; they could stabb him in his
sleep, as they were fully justified in doing.
But, on open terms, they were at his mercy,
and mercy was unknown to him. He re
mains stronger now, but they have, in this
day, a thousand ways of countervailing his
strength, of subjugating him body and soul,
of gaining advantage over him, while he
fancies himself their superior.
The greatest heroes, the omnipotent warri
ors, can not cope with woman. Julius Cresar,
the foremost man of all the world, entirely
surrendered to Cleopatra; forgot ambition,
glory, his victorious cohorts, in her arms.
Their murmurs of mutiny could not move
him. He hung infatuated on her lips. He
was willing to forego all he had achieved, to
let the vanquished globe pass. He had had
three wives, and, though he could subdue
nations at will, he could not keep one of
them true to him. He divorced each and all
of them for disloyalty.
Napoleon fell irrerievably in love with
Josephine, a Martinique widow, a coquettish
creole, six years his senior, to whom, after
marriage, in the midst of the most exacting
labors, at the height of stupendous campaigns,
involving the fate of Europe, he always found
leisure to write volcanic, ultra sentimental
letters. The embodiment of blazing passion,
he bitterly complained of her lack of reciproc
ity. He was constantly distrusting her ; they
had violent scenes ; his kindred tried to sep
arate them. But she prevailed over every
adverse influence. When she smiled and
beckoned, he forgot all doubts, he took her
once more to his arms, he was radiant with
joy-
No marvel man is afraid of woman ! He
has as much reason to fear her as she is with
out reason to fear him. He does not avow his
fear, but he feels it. She avows her fear and
feels it not. In secret she laughs at his
formidableness and plans how she will get
the better of him. Thousands of prominent,
public men dare not see a strange woman
alone. Where is the woman who refuses to
see any man, strange or familiar, alone?
When you hear a woman talking of her ter
ror of men, you may be sure she is jesting.
Junius Henri Browne.
Too much courtesy defeats its object.—
Phoedrus.
Remedies for Obstinate Hiccough.
“Within the last few months,” says the
National Druggist, “the newspapers have
chronicled the death of three or four persons
from obstinate hiccough. According to the
telegraphic reports, these people ‘perished
in spite of every effort of the physician.’ In
quiry in one case, at least, brings out the fact
that of three methods of procedure in such
cases, which are almost invariably successful,
(always successful when applied early in the
case), not one was used, simply, we suppose,
because not generally known. Of these, one
is inhalation of amyl nitrite, which was
recommended by a writer in the St. Loins
Medical and Surgical Journal many years
ago, and which, in the hands of the writer,
has never failed, and has succeeded in some
cases where all else had failed. Varengot’s
method is another almost infallible remedy.
This consists in loosening every constriction
around the body, removal of corset and belt,
in case of a woman, and loosening of drawers
and trousers’ band in the male. A moment
after a hiccough, close the nostrils by pinch
ing them closely, let the patient take a half
inspiration, and then commence to drink a
glass of water by little sips at regular in
tervals, sucking it in and holding the breath.
Prolong the operation as long as possible
going to extremes. If necessary, renew the
operation. This rarely ever fails. Varengot
claims that, in long years of practice, and
with some desperate cases, it never once
failed. Indeed, it is based on excellent physi
ological reasons; it gives rest to the dia
phragm by the slow deglutition of a little
water and air, while this deglutition, at the
same time, sets up a peristaltic action of
the esophagus and stomach that breaks the
spasm of the diaphragm. The latter is closely
allied to the antiperistaltic movement of
vomiting. A third method of procedure, fre
quently successful in very obstinate cases, is
as follows : A chair with a high back is placed
in front of the sufferer. The latter is told
to raise his arms above his head, and to lean
forward, bringing the body across the chair-
back at a line a little lower than the dia
phragm, and, at the same time, to bring his
arms forward and downward, till they touch
the seat of the chair. If the first trial fails,
repeat the whole operation.”
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