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VOL. VI.
THE APPEAL.
PUBLISHED EVERT FRIDAY,
By J. P. SAWTEIX.
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Old Poem.
BY THEODORE WITHER — 1G46.
Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die, because a woman’s fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care,
’Cause another’s rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flowery meads of May,
If she be not lair with me,
What care I how fair she be ?
Shall my foolish heart be pined,
’Cause lsce a woman kind,
Or a well disposed nature,
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle dove or pelican,
II she be not so to me,
What care I bow kind she be?
Shall a woman’s virtue move
Me to perish for her love-?
Or her well-deserving known,
Make me quite forget my own ?
Be she with that gooduees blest,
If she be not such to me,
What care I bow good she be?
’Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind,
Where they want ot riches fiud,
Think what with them they would do,
That without them dare to woo ;
Aiffl unites that mind I see,
What care I Low great she be ?
•
Great or good, kind, or fair,
I will ne’er the more despair,
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve ?
If she slight me, when I woo,
I can scorn and 11 me go ;
For if she be not loi me
What care I for whom she be?
The Gentleman in
Church.
The gentleman at church is
by the following marks:
1. Comes in good season, so as
neither to interrupt the pastor nor
the congregation by a late arrival.
2. Does not stop upon the steps
of in the portico, either to gape at
the ladies, salute friends, or display
his colloquial powers.
3. Opens and shuts the door
and walks deliberately and
lightly up the aisle or -allery stairs,
and gets his seat as quetly, and by
making as lew poisons remove, as
possible.
i 4. Takes his place either in the
hack part of the seat or steps out
into the aisle when any one wishes
to pass in, and never thinks of such
a thiDg as making people crowd
past him, while keeping his place
in the seat.
5. Is always attentive to stran
gers, and gives up his sent to such;
seeking another for hints. ls %
6. Never thinks ot' defiling the
house of God with tobacco spittle,
or annoying those who sit near
him, by chewing the nauseous weed
in church.
I. Never, unless in case of illness,
gets up or goes out during the time
<* service. But if necessity compel
him to do so. goes so quitely that
his very manner is an apology for
the act.
8. Does Jnot eDgnge in conversa
tion before the service.
9. Does not whisper,. nor
or eat fruit in the house of God,
or lounge in that holy place.
10. Does not rush out of the
church like a trampling horse, the
moment benedictionjs pronounced,
but retires slowly, in a noiseless,
quiet manner.
11. Does all he can, by precept
and example, to promote decorum
in others, aud is ever ready to lend
his aid to discountenance all inde
coium iu the house of God.
There is a rose bush trained
upon the wall of the cathedral at
Hildesheim, in Germany, which is
said to be a thousand years old.
When John Jacob Astor died,
he left a little over $21,000,000.
William B. Astor, his son, is now
estimated to be worth nearly SSO,
000,000.
CUTHBERT U! APPEAL.
Just for Fun.
BY S. ANNIE FROST.
It was rather a favorite excuse
with Willie Goodwin, whenever he
was deep in mischief, or had to
plead guilty when accused of some
boyish scrape, that it was done just
for fun. Many a time he resolved
to try to be more orderly and let
boyish pranks alone, but the next
prospect of fun would banish all his
good resolutions, until the penalty
recalled them. He was nearly fif
teen when the tragedy I am about
to tell you sobered him for life.—
He was a middle-aged man when
he told me the story, but even then
he could not speak emo
tion of his last piece of “ fun.”
“ We had been oufc for a walk,”
he told me, “ Frankie Ford, Tom
Lee and I, and were coming home
at twilinght, when we met Sammy
Willets, who was rather a favorite,
but for teasing, with all the boys.—
lie was a very timid, rather sickly
boy, of about fourteen, peevish and
easily irritated, and the rougher,
stronger boys said, a coward. As
soon as we saw him coming, the
spirit of mischief seemed to possess
us all, and each one planned how to
tease the poor timid boy.
“ ‘ Let’s hide and jump at him,’
one suggested.
“ ‘ Let's tell him Ins house is on
fire, and see him run,’ cried another.
“ ‘ I’ll tell you what we’ll do,’ I
said. ‘ We’ll coax him down to
Puthland’s barn for a game of
romps, and shut him up 1’
“Puthland’s barn was a large
barn standing alone, at some dis
tance from any other building.—
The farm-house to which it had be
longed had been destroyed by fire,
and the great barn had been left,
standing when Ruthland deserted
(he place and went West. It was a
favorite play-room for all the vil
lage boys, who spent long Saturday
afternoons in it, making it a gym
nasium and recitation hall, as occa
sion required.
"Although it was twilight, the
summer evenings were long, and
Sammy was not surprised to be
told we were going to Ruthland’s
barn for an hour of play before bed
lime.
" lie was quite willing to join us,
and we were soon in the old barn,
making it ring with our shouts and
laughter.
“ The hour passed rapidly, and it
was getting quite dark, when we
sent Sammy into the hay loft on
some errand, ran out ourselves and
drew the big doors after us. It
was harder work to fasten them
with the rusty iron latch, but we
accomplished this, too, and then
ran oft’.
"Just as we were at the edge of
the field, we heard one fearful
scream, but we only hurried on,
laughing at the thought of Sammy’s
discomfiture.
“ I must say iu our defiance, that
passing one night in the old barn
would have been no great misfor
tune to any of us. We were all
hearty, country boys, full of life and
health, free from superstition or
morbid fears, and we could noue of
us realize what the dark loneliness
was to a timid, sickly boy with
rather a weak mind.
“It must have been after mid
night when we were roused at home
by a violent knocking at the door.
My father spoke from the window,
asking what was wanted, and I
, heard our neighbor Mr. Willets,
asking anxiously:
“ ‘ Is Sammy here ?’
“ * No. Is he not ?’
“‘ He has not 1 -/<ie P ad \'mie since
sunset. lam ve 8 n 'S^ A ,vorried,
because he is no’ tr ® etß > kr
“ ‘ I’ll ask \\ This is e j. iafl Been
him.’ ike . to
“In another to i u mt father was
by my bed, an/ wt old him where
they would fid? 1o Smmy. Never
shall I forget thf° out rs cry of hor
ror : aade f
“‘lt will kn are j ! My poor,
timid boy. He " >me aid of the dark,
aud the doctor moß old us we must
humor him, because he is not strong
enough to bear fright. Will you
come with me, Mr. Goodwin?’
“ I was dressing as rapidly as I
could, and was by my father’s side
when he lighted a lantern and
joined Mr. Willets.
“ ‘ Let me go 1’ I begged. ‘ I
never meant to hurt him. I would
not mind staying there all night a
bit, and I liss Lot think it would
really tke cp Oh ! sir, do you
think him 1 It was all a
joke, else un.’
.Or offer > . , , ,
\ i • g lve you, boy,’ he au
feby bnn , , . . T
swe •’ i a choked voice. ‘ I
am \ t will bo dear fun for us
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, MARCH 22, 1872.
all. Sammy, my poor boy ! Who
will tell his mother if harm has
come to him ? Our only one—our
poor, sickly boy !’
“So he lamented as he hurried
across the field, every word increas
ingmy terror and remorse. It was
my proposal, and I felt myself the
only guilty one, though the others
had helped me to carry out the cru
el joke that seemed anything but
fun now. We reached the barn at
last, and undid the heavy fastenings
at the door. Mr. Willets called his
boy by name every moment, but
no answer came. It seemed to me
hours before the heavy doors swung
back. One ot them would not open
wide, and looking in to see the cause,
we found poor Sammy, white and
senseless, lying on the floor behind
it- His father lifted him.
“ ‘ He is not dead !’ he said, ‘Can
we get water ?’
“ I hunied to the well and brought
water, bat the boy was too far gone
for that. Oh ! .the long distance it
seemed to Mr. Willet’s, where I ran
at once. Never shall I forget the
face of Sammy’s mother as she took
the boy’s lace in her hands, and
looked into it. It was so white and
still, I dared scarcely believe he
really lived as I hurried to the doc
tor’s. He did live, recovering his
health after a long, dangerous ill
ness ; but his mind was gouo forev
er.- Some fright in those lqnely
hours of darkness gave a shock to
the weak mind that was never cured,
and he lived only to be an idiot.
“ It is some years now since we
laid hirifin his quiet grave, the vic
tim of a boyish prank, I tell you
it was the last piece of mischief I
ever did ‘just for fun.’ ”
Benefits to fie Realized fiy
Joining the Good Tem
plars.
While the reformation of the
drunkard is an object sough by this
order, yet the prevention of drunk
ards being made, is a still greater
object they seek to accomplish.
To the drunkard, the benefits of
becoming and remaining a Good
Templar are beyond computation
and the benefits to society from the
successful efforts of our Order to
reclaim the fallen are vast indeed ;
but besides these, there are benefits,
to the member himself or herself,
some of which we enumerate, as
follows:
First. The habit of total absti
nence is acquired and strengthened
by the solemn obligation which
every member must take to desist
from its use in every way as a bev
erage, thus lending to render the
member proof against future temp
tation. The tendency of the open
ing and closing exercise of every
initiation, is to deepen the love of
Total Abstinence.
Second : The purifying effects of
the principles of religion are simul
taneously iuculcated with those of
total abstinence, no atheist being
eligible to membership, and the ex
ercises draging copiously from and
highly extolling the Scriptures.
Third : The order . is, to a large
extent, a mutual benefit associa
tion, the members assisting each
other in case of sudden affliction,
sickness, &c. The social and fra
ternal faculties are cultivated, and
the general character refine and
ennobled.
Fourth: The order is a musical
and literary school every lodge and
every meeting of every lodge, hav
ing as one of the most important
features of its exercise what is
termed “the good ot order,” devo
ted to music, recitations, reading,
speeches, etc.; and probably there
is nothing in the country doing so
much tOjpromote musical aud litera
ry talent as this order.
Fifth : It is a potent school iu
the business relations and duties of
life. Auy member can withdraw
when ever he or she desires to
leave the order, but it does not re
lieve from the obligation taken. Os
course there is diversity of talents
aud taste some lodges averaging
more refined aud intellecual than
others; but any member, if in good
standing, is always welcomed and
entertained in any lodge in this
country or iu Europe,
Young meu aud women can hard
ly devote any evening of each week
more profitably, or other persons
more pleasantly, than iu the meet
ings of a first class Good Templar
Lodge.
We pronounce it the most useful
and blessed organization we know
of, and earnestly entreat both young
and old to try it.
A locomotive consumes, on
the average, forty-five gallous of
water for every mile it runs.
The Age of the Patriarchs.
Some have not hesitated serious
ly to ascribe to our forefather, Ad
am, the height of nine hundred
yards, and the age of almost a
thousand years. But accurate and
rational investigation of modern
philosophy has converted the sup
posed bones of giants found in dif
ferent parts of the earth, into those
of the elephant and rhinoceros;
and acute theologists have shown
that the chronology of the early
ages was not the same as that used
at'present. Some, particularly Hen
sler, have proved with the highest
probability that the year, till the
time of Abraham, consisted of only
three months; that it was after
wards extended to eight; and that
it was not until the time of Joseph
that it was made to consist of twelve.
These assertions are, in a certain
degree, confirmed by some of the
Eastern nations, who still i eekon
only three months to the year ; and,
besides, it would be altogether in
explicable why the life of a man
should have been shortened one
half immediately after the flood. It
would be equally inexplicable why
the patriarchs did not marry till
their sixtieth, seventieth, and even
hundreth year ; but this difficulty,
when we reckon these ages accor
ding to the before mentioned stan
dard, which will give the twentieth
or thirtieth year; and, consequently
the same periods at which people
marry at present. The whole,there
fore, according to this explanation,
assumes a different apperance.
The sixteen hundred years before
the flood will become four hundred
and fourteen ; and the nine hun
dred years (the highest record)
which Methusaleh lived, will be re
duced to two hundred—an age
which is not impossible, and to
which some men of modern times
have nearly approached.— Rising
Sun, Rome, N. Y. Feb. 22.
Clieei* Him.
In one of our large cities, a fire
broke out in a lofty dwelling. It
was near midnight, and the flames
had made headway before they
were discovered. The fire compa
nies rallied, but the smoke had be
come so thick that the outlines of
the house were scarcely visible, and
the fiery element was raging with
fearful power, when a piercing cry
thrilled all hearts when they learned
that there was one person yet un
saved within the building. In a
moment a ladder was swung through
flames and planted against the hea
ted walls, and a brave fireman rush
ed up its rounds to the rescue. .
Overcome by the smoke, and per
haps daunted by the hissing flames
before him, he halted and seemed
to hesitate. It was an awful scene
A life hung in the balance—each
moment was an age.
“Cheer him,” shouted a voice
from the crowd, and a wild “hur
rah !” burst like a tempest from the
beholding multitude. That cheer
did the work, and the brave fire
man went upward amid smoke and
flame, and in a moment descended
with the rescued one in his arms.
Friend, brother, when you see a
brave soul battling witbjtemptation,
struggling under the cross, rushing
forward to rescue dying men, and
yet faltering iu an hour of weak
ness or a moment of peril then
“cheer him !” Asa pebble’s fall
may change a rivers course, so your
words of sympathetic kindness
may uplift a drooping heart, and
fix its faltering purpose for a no
bler life.
—Olive Wendell Holmes sent a
letter to the post-office of a La
dies Fair at Pittsfield. On the first
page he wrote :
"Fair lady, whosoe’er thou art, •
Turn this poor leaf with tenderest care,
And bush. O bush thy breathing heart—
The one thou Invest will be there.”
On turning the “poor leaf,” there
was fpund a one-dollar bill, with
some verses beginning:
If this is not a truthful letter ;
This is the one (1) thou lovest well,
And nought (0) can make thee love it
better.”
"Fair lady, lift thine eyes and tell,
—An exchange says that the
only man who has a correct idea of
the size of the United States, is the
one who in 1850-51 drove an ox
team from Main to California.
—Girls, in choosing a husband,
don’t choose for wealth or popularity,
but choose one of noble traits and
good habits, then if he is intelligent,
kind and industrious, you will be
happy Don’t marry to pleas other
people, but yourself; it is your
happiness involved, not their’s.
The circulation of the London
Daily Telegraph is 170,000.
How a Mail Feels When
Freezing.
Last night, Dr. J. T. McMillan,
a young dentist of this place, who
was returning from a visit to North
Middletewn, a small country village
of this county (situated about ten
miles northeast of here), was found
by a negro man employed by Mr.
Frank Ford, who was returning
home from Paris, about half-past
nine o’clock, in an insensible condi
tion, and almost frozen to death.
We give the doctor’s own account
of his journey, and his miraculous
escape from the icy clutches of the
grim monster :
“I started from North Middle
town at half-past six o’clock, with
sufficient trapping, as I thoguht,
to protect me from cold. After
having proceeded about three miles
on my journey my feet became
very cold. By stamping my
feet upon the floor of the Bug
gy I imagined I -was perfectly
warm, as my feet troubled me no
longer and the cold sensations
through my body ceased. I, how
ever, felt dull and sleepy, like a
man who is drunk. I didn’t care
for any thing. At this point I
believe I began to freeze, and ought
to have known it, but felt so com
fortable that I did not examine my
situation. After I had driven
about three miles further my hat
was blowu off, but, being in a hur
ry to reach Paris, I did not stop to
hunt for it. When I had proceed
ed, perhaps a mile further, letting
the reins lie in the bottom of the
buggy, and paying no attention to
my driving, my horse shied oft' the
side of the road and ran upon a
rock pile. I then attempted to get
the lines and pull him off, when I
discovered I had lost the entire use
of my right, and could barely use
the left hand ; with this one I at
tempted to pul! him off the rocks,
but the buggy wheels being locked,
I could not do it. I then got out of
my buggy, and in doing so struck
the bridge of my nose across the
wheel and cut it severely. I then
went to the head of the horse, took
hold of the bit and attempted to pull
him around, but he would no* move
I then commenced to unharness
him, with the expectation of pull
ing the buggy off the rocks myself,
feeling all the time very sleepy.
When I had almost completed the
task of unhitching the horse from
the buggy the desire for sleep be
came so great that I could bear it
no longer, and I laid down upon
the rocks by the side of the horse
and went to sleep. I must have
lain there some fifteen or thirty
minutes, when I was aroused by
the boy who found me. Upon his
asking me where he should take me,
I told him to Paris, still not know
ing my critical condition. ’Upon ar
riving in Paris, my feet were put im
to cold water, which entirely, I
think, cured them, as they do not
liurt me this morning. My left
*and does not give me much pain,
and I think will be all right in a
few days ; but my right hand was
badly frozen, nothing seemed to do
it any good, and I am afraid I shall
lose three, if not four, of my fingers.
Last night when I arrived in Paris
I could give no account of myself,
but this morning I remember every
incident.”— Cincinnati Enquirer.
Troubles.—Some people are as
careful of their troubles as mothers
are of their babies; they cuddle
them, and rock them, and cry over
them, and fly into a passion with
you if you try to take them away
from them ; they want you to fret
with them, and to help them to be
lieve that they havebeen worse trea
ted than anybody else. If they
could, they would have a picture of
their grief in a gold frame hung
over the mautle shelf for every
body to look at. And their griefs
make them ordinarily selfish—they
think more of their dear little grief
in the basket aud in the cradle than
they do of all the world besides;
and they say you are hard-hearted
if you say they “don’t fret.” “Ah !
you don’t understand me—you don’t
Enow me—you can’t enter into my
trials”
—A story is told of a young man
who had been taught in his childhood
the importance of never neglecting
his daily evening devotions, but
whose inventive turn of mind con
ceived the happy idea of writing
his evening prayer in a very elabo
rate manner and pasting it to his
head-board. Upon cold nights he
would quickly undress, point to the
written document and say,“Oh Lord,
them’s my sentiments, ” jumping
into bed fully satisfied with his davo
-1 tional exercises.
The Old Homestead. —What en
dearing recollections gather afound
the scenes of early days. “ The
orchard, the meadow, the deep-tan
gled wild-wood,” were free and un
fettered as the mountain air oar
lightsome footsteps were wout to
rove—the rustic church to which,
with the returning day of peaceful,
holy rest, led by the hand of pa
rental affection, we used to repair
—but above all, the home of our
domestic enjoyments, the sancuary
of the family c’rcle, where, under
the guidance of a father’s counsel
and a mother’s love, we passed the
sunny hour’s of life’s sweet spring
time, all rise in grateful, fond re
membrance, full of purest delight
and tenderest associations.
And these reminiscences lose
none of their interest from the cir
cumstance that the same spot which
was consecrated to hope and glad
ness was in the onward flight of
time, destined to be visited by dis
appointment and sorrow. It was
not only the abode of the fondly
loved, but there we witnessed the
departure of the early lost. There,
too, a father blest us with his dying
breath, and bade us meet him in
the better land. There a mother
looked and smiled upon us, to look
and smile no more. Sadness and
joy, commingled thus, hallow the
place where we enjoyed their fel
lowship in life, and where they now
repose in the unbrokeo silence of
their sepulchral rest.
Who would not fain preserve
these cherished domains from van
dal hands—who would not prize
the privilege of there passing the
evening hours of life, and of
there being gathered to his fathers ?
Or if this must be denied, at least
of being permitted to return at
times to the peaceful scenes of
youth, with the cheering reflection
that they are still identified with
us—and that we can still claim
them as our own ?
Labor. —Labor, honest labor, is
mighty aud beautiful. Activity is
the ruling element of life, and its
highest relish. Luxuries and con
quests are the results of labor ; we
can imagine nothing without it.—
The noblest man of earth is he who
puts hands cheerfully and proudly
to honest labor. Labor is a busi
ness and ordinance of God. Sus
pend labor, and where is the glory
and pomp of the earth—the fruit,
fields and palaces, and the fasliion
ings of matter for which men stiive
and war ? Let the labor-scorner
look to himself, and learn what are
the trophies. • From the crown of
his head to the sole of his foot, un
less he is a Carib, naked as the
beast, he is the debtor and slave of
toil. The labor which he scorns,
has tricked him into the stature
and appearance of a man. Where
gets he his garmening and equip
age ? Let labor answer. Labor—
which makes music in the mine and
furrow, and the forge. Oh, scorn
labor, do yon, man, who never yet
earned a morsel of bread! La
bor pities you, proud fool, and
laughs you to scorn. You shall pass
to dust, forgotten, but labor will
live orwforever, glorious in its con
quests and monuments.
The idea of “respectable em
ployment” is the rock upon which
thousands split and shipwreck
themselves and all who depend on
them. All employments are res
pectable that bring honest gains.
The laborer who is willing to turn his
hand to anything is as respectable
as the clerk or store-tender. Indeed
the man who is ready to work when
ever work offers, whatever it may
be, rather than lie idle and beg, is
far more respectable than the one
who turns up his nose at hard labor,
worries his friends with lus com
plaints because he has nothing to,do
pockets their benefactions without
thankfulness, and goes on from day
to day a useless lazy grumbler.
A handsome young gentleman
walkeu iuto the Express office the
other day, and desired to express
a package of letter to a lady, to
whom he desired to return them.
‘What are they worth ?’ asked the
clerk, who, in making out his account,
desired to know what was the risk.
The young man hesitated a mo
ment, then clearing his throat from
a certain huskmess, replied, "well, I
can’t say exaetiy: a few days ago I
thought the were worth about four
hudred thousand dollars.”
Naomi, the daughter of Enoch }
was five hundred and eighty years
old when she was married. There’s
hope for some of you other ladies,
after all.
No Person is Without Influ
ence.—Some persons fall discour
aged on the highway of life, becaus
they cannot be this or that great or
eminent persons. Whv notbethem
selves ? No person who ever lived,
or ever will live, is without iflueuce.
Why Dot make the most of that?
Since you cannot grasp that which
you wish, why let what yon have
slip through your fingers ? No per
son in the world is exactly likejyou.
You have your faults, but you have
also your own excellencies individu
al to yourself. Give them air. Be
cause you are not a poet, should
you not be a good merchant ? Be
cause you cannot go to college,
should you therefore forswear the
alphabet ? Because you cannot build
a palace should you not rejoice in
your own humble roof, and that be
cause it is your owu ? Will not the
sun also shine into your window if
you do not obstinately persist in
shutting it out ? If you cannot have
a whole hot-house full of flowers,
may you not have one sweet rose.
—At a social party, where hu
morous definitions was one of the
games of the evening, the question
was put:—“What is religion?”
“Religion, ” replied one of the party,
more famous as a man of business
than of wit, “is an insurance against
fire in the next world, foi which
honesty is the best policy. ”
A loving heart and pleasant
countenance are commodities which
a man should not fail to take home
with him. They will best season
his food and soften his pillow. It
were a great thing for a man that
his wife and children could truly
say of him, “He never brought a
frown of unhappiness across his
theshold. ”
A gentleman in search of a
mau to do som work, met on his
way a highly respectable lady, not
as young a she once was, and asked
her, ‘‘Can you tell me where I can
find a man ?” “No I cannot, ” she
replied, “for I have been looking
these twenty years for one myself.”
—A Western man was presented
by a young lady with a fine plaited
bosom shirt, made with an open
back. He wore it hind side before
for a before he found out how
it worked. On being told of his mis
take, he remarked that he thought
it strange the young woman should
put so much work on the back.
The Ruts op Life.—Get out
of them, if you wish to live long.
Men and women must have recrea
tion must have amusement, must have
diversion It is wholesome for the
mind to break away from its daily
vocation or employment every night.
The man who goes from his counting
house or his workshop at the close of
the day, and does not leave it behind
him, but sits at the family table in
moodiness, brooding over past oc
currences, weighing brobabilities,
laying plans, and when the meal is
over, thinking, thinking, thinking
by the hour, and goes to bed to toss
and tumble about, cannot live long ;
the brain or heart must fall.
Cash Advances—Attentions
to a rich widow.
A Supreme Court—Sparking
the daughter of a Millionare.
He who blackens others, does
not whiten himself.
—Keep good company and always
be on® of the number.
Time, patience and industry
are the three grand masters of the
w T orld.
—Why is old age like a dog’s tail ?
Because it is in-firm.
A man who bad travelled
through New Jersey says that he
saw some land there so poor that
you couldn’t raise a disturbance on
it.
*—A Western girl who has been
well brought up knocks down every
man that kisses her, and she is so
pretty that half the married and all
the single men in town have black
eyes.
When you can’t think of what
your wifechaged you to bring home,
get hair pins. They are always
handy in the house.
A damsel having offended a
gentleman at a leap year party, he is
about to send his big sister to de
mand an apology.
A wag leut a clergyman a horse,
which ran away aud threw him,
aud then claimed credit for “aid in
spreading the Gospel. ”
—ltis a true saying that those
against whom our hearts harden
most are not those who have wrong,
ed us, but those whom we have
wronged.
NO. 12
I— The woman’s club—The broom
stick.
Girls with short fat hands
should avoid bracelets.
You should always keep your
horse fat, and never allow any lien
on him.
When is a baby like a breakfast
cup ? When it is a tea thing (teeth
ing).
Some married people always
go to bed quarrelling, yet they nev
er fall out.
- Carlos says that crying widows
marry first. There is nothing like
wet weather for transplanting.
—Dept is a horse that is always
throwing its rider. Fools ride him
bareback and without a bridle.
The minister who divides his
discourses into two many heads will
find it difficult to procure attentive
ears for all of them.
—That woman was a philosopher
who, when she lost her husband she
had one great cosolation—she knew
where he was of nights.
“Husband, if an honest man
is God’s most noblest work, what
is honest woman? “His rarest, dear,”
svas the uncivil reply.
An oyster, it is said, contains
as much nourishment as a slice of
roast beef, and this is the reason
they are recommended for invalids.
A man who was told by a cler
gy man to remember Lot’s wife,
replied that he had trouble enough
with his own, without remembering
other men’s wives. '
Ladies think there ought to be
a law againt men smoking bad ci
gars on the public promenade.
There is a law— the law of polite
ness—but it is seldom followed.
A correspondent of a New
York, paper declares that husbands
of strong-minded women become
nobodies. This.is not strictly true,
for such husbahds are nobodies at
the start.
A gentleman expressed to a
lady his admiration of her toilet.
She said she supposed he had been
impressed by her angel sleeves. He
answered with effusion : —“No; but
he’d like to be !”
Eight out of every ten tobacco
chewers in the regions where the
plant is raised use the natural leaf
twisted up into hanks and free of
honey, liquorice j uice or other mod
ern adiilteation. The use of man
ufactured or “store” tobacco would
set the oldest of them to reflecting.
—• A lady a St. Louis
court, said : “Give me the least grain
of truth for a basis, aud I can £ruin
the character of any woman in the
world. ” Let gossipers ponder this
remark, and they will be brought
to a realization of its truth.
God loveth a cheerful giver.—
In the pocket of a pair of relief
pantaloons recently given out by
the Grand Rapids commi ttee, was
the following note : “There, take
’em, d—n you ; last pair I've got >
don’t get burned out again.”
Schoolmistress (to dull little
boy,) “Johnny,Jl’in ashamed of you.
When I was of your age I could
read twice as well as you can. ”
Johnny. “Yes’m; but you had a dif
ferent teachei from what I got. ”
An exchange says : A brick fel
from a scafold, yesterday, on the
head of a passing negro. “Fling
dem ere peanut-shells anoder way
up dere, won’t yer ?” was the dar
key’s advice as he scratched his wool.
—lrritable school master —“Now,
stupid what’s the next word ? what
comes after cheese ?” Dull boy—“
A mouse, sir ?”
The “French Curve ” has taken
the place of the “ Grecian Bend, ”
and is not considered much of an
improvement on the old style.
Advice to husbands —Settle as
much money upon your wife as you
can, for her second husband, poor
fellow ! may not have a sixpence.
A bunkum fence was described
by a witness under examination in
court, as a fence that is bull strong,
horse high, and pig tight.
—An Oregon toast over a glass
of the ardent : “Here’s what makps
us wear old clothes. ”
Dan gerous relaxation—fooling
with a married lady who has a red
headed husband.
The man who on his wedding
day starts as a lieutenant in the
family will never get promoted.
—The great unknown—people
who never advertise.
—The man who was filled with
emotion hadn’t rooin for any dinner.
i caught her softly by the arm, my
gen tie,blue eyed Kate ; she squealed,
“Let go, you cuss’d fool, you hurt
my vaccinate 1”