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VOL. VI.
THE APPEAL.
HU BLISH ED EVERT FRIDAT,
By J. P. SAWTELL.
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If You want a Kiss, why
Take One.
There’s a jolly Saxou proverb
That is pretty much like this :
That a man is half in Heaven
When he has a woman’s kiss.
But there’s danger in delaying,
And the sweetness may forsake it;
So I tell you, bashful lover,
II you want a kiss, why tako it!
Never lei another fellow
Steal a march on you like this
Never let a laughing maiden
Sec you spoi ing for a kiss.
There’s a royal road to kissing.
And the jolly ones who make it
Have a motto that is winning :
If you want a kiss, why take it!
Any fool may face a cannon—
Anybody wear a crown—
But a man must win a woman,
If he’d have her for his own.
Would you have the golden apple?
You must find the tree and shake it;
If the tiling is worth the having,
And you want a kiss why take it!
Who would burn upon a desert,
With a forest smiling by ?
Would you give the sunny Summer
For a blesk and wintry sky ?
Oh ! I tell you there is magic,
And you cannot, cannot break it,
;For the sweetest part of loving
Is to want a kiss— and take it!
Importance of Reading.-No rant
ter how obscure the position in life
of an rhdividual, if he can read, lie
Smay at will put himself in the best
society the world has ever seen.
He may sit down with the good and
great men of antiquity. He may
converse with Franklin and Wash**
ington : with ail the writers in prose
and poetry. He may learn how
to live, how to avoid the errors of
his predecessors, and to secure
plesaings present and future, to
himself. He may reside in a
desert far away from the habita
tions of man : iu solitude where no
human eye looks upon him with af
section or interest; where no human
voice cheers him with the anima
ting tones, it he has books to read,
he can never bo alone. He may
choose his company an the subject
of conversation, and thus become
contented and happy, intelligent,
Wise and good. He ihus elevates
his rank in the world, and becomes
independaut in the * best sense of
tho first in importance of the de
partemnt of school education.
A Domestic Hint. —Carpet
shakeiug (says an exchange) is at
hand. Hereis abitofadvice which
it will be well for housekeepers to
heed. When a carpet is taken up
_to be cleaned, the floor beneath is
generally covered with dust This
dust is very fine and dry, and pois
onous to the lungs. Before remov
ing it, sprinkle the floor with diluted
carbolic acid, to kill any poisonous
germs that may be present, and to
thoroughly disinfect the floor and
make it sweet.
Cold Hands—Warm Hearts.—
*>o not flatter yourself with the no
tion that although your hands are
cold your disposition is cordial, gen
ial and hearty. Cold handsjndicate
a defective circulation of the blood—
that the vital capillaries of the ex
ttemities with that vigor which is
consistent witli genuine health, but
rather courses through the interior
channels of the body.
A little five-year-old was being
instructed in moials by Ins grand
mother. The old lady told him that
all such terms as ‘by golly.’ ‘by
jingo,’ ‘by thunder,’ etc., was only
little better than other profanities.
In fact, said she, he could tell a
profane oath by the prefix ‘by.’
All such were oaths, ‘Well then,
grandmother," said the little hope
ful, ‘is ‘by telegraph,’ which I see
in the newspapers, swearing?’
*No,’.said the old lady, that’s
only lying. 5
CUTHBERT APPEAL.
miss Higgin’s man.
BY CAROLINE.
For thirty years Miss Higgins
had looked under her bed every
night, and had never found a man
there yet, still she looked. Wheth
er it was fear that impelled that
deathless research, or a fatality
that was beckoning her to her fate,
I know not. It would seem, how
ever, to be ti.e former, for she had
often been heard to observe:
“That of all the abominations on
earth, a man is the most abomina
ble.”
Indeed, at the informal tea drink
ing of the allied forces of Chester
ville, the three Misses Wheeler and
the two Misses Jones, she had oft
en excelled them all in the wither
ing tone with which she would re
peat : “ Man ! man !’’ and no one
could breath greater defiance at
this foeman than she. It was at
one of these tea parties that they
had entered into a solemn compact
that, in the event of Woman’s
Rights giving either of these allies
sovereign power over the nation
and Eastern law was to be by them
imported and improved, and hus
bands buried with the dead bodies
of their wives.
As Eunice Iliggins well remark
ed : “ That would put an end to
widowers prett" lively.” And
with this remuik the Hyson flowed,
and the wassail went on—with such
spirit, that Aurelia Wilder, the
moat radical, added another clause :
“ That the children of widowers
should be thrown iu too, and not
be a botherin’ other women.” This
was also well received.
Now if any one thinks Miss Eu
nice Iliggins waa a woman devoid
of virtues and womanly graces, I
pity them—they are so utterly mis
taken. She had assisted a drunken
father through the world, ’till he
made his exit —sustained and sup
ported a feeble mother—and three
or four children older but more
helpless than she, till the mother
went home to her reward, and the
children had found flourishing
homes tor themselves, with the ex
ception of the eldest son, who bad
followed his fathei’s footsteps, lit
er.dly. Indeed, when one contem
plates the specimens of manhood
she had been most familiar with,
her aversion to the sex does not
seem so wonderful. She was now
shrewd eyed, but good and kindly
looking. No home was brighter
th;.n hers. No farm better man
aged.
The night on which commences
my humble history, Miss Iliggins
went to her room in "unusual good
humor. She had had a tea party.
The allies had long been present,
and admitted unanimously that
such fragrant tea, such snowy bis
cuits and honey, such golden but
ter, suoli cakes and sweetmeats had
not been partaken of that season.—
The scene of her benign victory
rose before her as she took off the
little switch of hair at the bat k side
of her head, and pensively rolled it
up ere she put it in top bureau
drawer.
She saw again the sinking sun
shining in, through her house plants
in the window, upon the crimson
drugget of the dining room ; the
snowy tea-table with its silver and
pink sprigged china; the admiring
faces of her friends as they partook
of her delicious food. But one
memory disquieted her ; “She al
most mistrusted her lemon extract
was losing its strength—the frost
ing on the fruit cake didn’t seem to
be flowered quite enough.” But
this haunting manner was softened
by the thought that “ she could get
anew bottle to-morrow.”
By this time she was arrayed m
her long white nightdress and
night-cap. She folded up every
article of clothing, and laid it down
at fight angles ; she locked up her
breast pin; and then, impelled by
fate, she calmly advanced to the
side of the bed, and raised the
snowy valances—gave one shriek,
and fell backward on the carpet,
bitting her head badly as she did
6o on a chair rocker. There was
her man under the bed !
Miss Higgins had often fancied
flow she would awe such a robber,
such a burglar, with her fearless
and searching glances; how she
would defend her property with
her life. Let us not be too hard
with her—she is not the only one
of us who has found that it is more
easy to dream of great achievements
than to accomplish them. She is
not the only one who, at the first
shock, has shrieked and tumbled
down before adverse fate.
But Eunice Higgins was not ode
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, MAY 17, 1872.
to wither away before a calamity.
Not long did she lie there ; but as
short a time as it was when she
lifted her head her man confronted
her. He was a very little man, in
deed, not more than seven years
old, and small at that; very good
looking, and well clothed, although
exceedingly disheveled and uncom
fortable in appearance.
“ How came you here, under my
bed ?”
This was the first question, but it
was repeated before he answered,
with drooping head and glances :
“I’ve runned away.”
“ Run a tfay from where ?”
“ Frbm our folk’s house.”
“ Who is vour folks?”
“ Father.”
Here the dialogue terminated
suddenly,. Eunice Higgins becom
ing suddenly conscious that a night
gown and night cap were not the
.pioper raiment in which to enter*"
tain even so small a man. Out in
the pleasant sitting room, beneath
the warm light of kerosene gleam
ing through rose geraiums, and the
keener light of Eunice Higgins’
eyes, the inquisition was continued.
From which these facts were gleam
ed ; that the boy, Johny Dale, had
been so tried with his father, be
cause he would’nt let him go to a
circus, that he had run away.
It was early in the morning, he
said, and lie had got a ride with -a
teamster, and had rode with him
till afternoon, so he must have come
some distance. After the teamster
stopped he had walked on, and,
coming to her door in the" twi light,
he thought he would ask for some
supper, but there was no one in;
Miss Higgins had gone “apiece”
with her visitors. But tho tea-ta
ble stood there, laden with good
things; he had helped himselt gen
erously, and then, as he heard her
step suddenly outside, guilt which
makes cowards of us all, drove him
into the bed-room, and as the step
came nearer and nearer, under the
bed. His unusual fatigue had over,
powered him, and he bad fallen
asleep and was awakened only by
her screams as she discovered him.
M iss Iliggins had found the man
she had been looking for for thirty
years, but now the question arose,
whai was she to do with him? As
he had no designs upon her proper
ty or her life, she could not lecture
him therefor. And as his courage
arose, he displayed a pretty —a
very pretty —face, surmounted by a
mass of bright curls, in which shone
two hen’s feathers. Miss Iliggins
was very neat, but where is the
feather bed that will not occasional
ly shed a few feathers, dry tears
haply falling over memories of
former fights ?
Miss Higgins’good sense, back
ed by her good heart, taught her
what her man needed now was a
good supper and a bed. But in
the morning tho question again vex
ed her. What was she to do with
her man—should she advertise
him ? Again she questioned him
in the sunlighted .dining-room as
he ate his excellent breakfast.
“Whereabouts do your folks live
—in what place !"’
He looked up mildly at her, with
a large piece of peach pie midway
between his ph»te and mouth, and
answered, obediently :
“Our lolk's house.”
“Who is your folks
“Father?”
• The allies were called in ; the
stiffly-starched inquest sat on Miss
Higgins’ man. The additional re
sult of their over questioning being
that their was every evidence that
the father of Miss Higgins’ man
belonged to ’ that corrupt and
shameless sect —widowers !
Miss Higgins trembled.
“Had she not better dispose of
her man at once ? Was it notin a
way encouraging widowers in their
nefarious doings, to harbor these
small men ?”
She asked these questions with
some relenting of heart, for already
had the childish charms of her man
won upon her, and it was with great
relief that she heard the decision
of Aurelia the most radical of the
allies.
“No! keep him here. Such a
chance was seldom vouchsafed to
the’ allies to teach one of these men
—widowers—a lesson they would
not soon forget.
Punish that wretch, that unnat
ural widower, by saying nothing
about the child. Let him think he
is lost ; let him hunt him up the
best way he can.”
The youngest Miss Jones —she
was only forty and naturally timid
and apprehensive—suggested that
“it would be just like one of these
men to come right here to Miss
Higgins’ after him. There wasn’t
anything that they hadn’t the face
to do. It would be jest like one
of ’em to walk into her sittin’-room.”
Here Miss Higgins remarked :
“She would like to see him walk
into her house. He wouldn’t stir'
a step beyond the ha’l, and as for
that stair carpet she was going to
take it up and cleanse it, anyway.”
This remark, which was warmly
applauded, terminated the confer
ence.
Johnny did seem aveise to the
arrangement. He was at the age
when bodily comfort overshadows
the mental. He appeared to have
a great deal of affection for his fa
ther but there was a Bridget, at
the very mention of whose name
he almost gnashed his teeth. “She
was awful—she had shaken him,
pinched him, pulled his hair.”
Eunice Higgins’ warm heart al
most melted within her at the reci
tal of his sufferings.
A week passed away, and daily
had Miss Iliggins’ man gained up
on her affections She was the
youngest child of her parents, and
had never known the delights'of
childish society. She had dwelt so
long alone, that to have that bright,
manly little face opposite hers at
the breakfast table, looking out of
the window, hailing her return
from her short absences, his merry
innocent prattle and ringing laugh,
was all the more agreeable to her
than she Would be willing to ac
knowledge.
She grew lenient to the boyish
nerve of her man for the best of
boys have unregulated moments ;
looked benignantly upon him as
lie capered in the garden paths in
startling proximity to her marrow
fats and cluster cucumbers. She
ravelled out a long stocking, and
out of one of her second best Mor
rocco shoes made a ball for him;
and when he lost it in her best
meadow she herself boldy breasted
the clover waves, side by side with
him, in pursuit of it.
So that beautiful week passed
away and one morning Eunice Hig
gins was called from her snowy
dairy room by a ring at her front
door.
Opening it, she confronted a
pleasant looking man of about her
own age. Woman’s unerring in
tuition said to her “this is he.”
Here was the opportunity to wither
him with her glances. But how
could she when he looked so much
like Johnny, just such a pleasant
manly look in his face. Eunice
did not wither him.
“I have been informed, Madam,
tiiat there has been a boy, a runa
way boy here—is it so?”
Instead of the prussic acid and
vinegar that she had designed to
have in her tone, the likeness to
her man so softened her voice, that
it was only pleasantly acidulous
like a ripe lemon,, as she replied
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“Is he here now ?”
“Yes, sir, lie is.”
His anxious eyes so brightened
at this, that, she entirely forgot
her carpet and her enmity, and ac
tually invited him in.
No sooner was he seated than
Johnny ran in with eager eyes.
“Father! father !”
He threw his arm around his
father’s neck, and kissed his beard
ed lipSj and then, in his delight,
he turned and threw his arms
around Eunice Higgins’ neck and
kissed her with the same pair of
lips, and still Miss • Higgins could
say, iu the dying words of the great
statesman :
“I still live!
Mr. Dale was a man of means
and leisure. He thought the air of
the little town exceedingly good.
He obtained board for the summer,
for himself and son,- at the little
hotel. But in all Chesterville no
air was so pure and salubrious, he
thought, as the air of Miss Eunice
Higgins’ parlor, consequently he
sought that healthful retreat often,
Johnny going before like an olive
branch.
Day after day Mr. Dale tread
over the immaculate purity of her
carpets, and they were not taken
up and “cleansed.” Hour after
hour did he sit upon her parlor
sofa, and it was not purified with
soapsuds or benzine.
And at last, one peaceful twi
light, it was ou the fourteenth day
of September, at the close of a long
conversation —both of the parties
being at the time, of sound mind—
Johnny’s father kissed Miss niggins
upon her cheek.
When I say that she did not im
mediately burn out the spot with
lunar caustic, you may be prepared
for the result.
The next week Eunice Dale, late
Iliggins, was ignominusly expelled
from the allied force of Chesterville ;
her name washed out in hot streams
of Hyson, and still more burning
indignation. But Eunice made a
happy home fur her man and his
father, and rejoicing in their content,
and her own, she care not for the
“allied” procedings. And thus
endeth the story of Miss Higgins’
man.
A Frightful Warning to
Parents.
A week or two ago a family
named Woodstock arrived in the
city from Westchester, New York,
intending to settle in the State, and
accepted the invitation of an old ac
quaintance, residing on Russll street,
to stop with hitn for a week or two
until they had decided where to lo
cate. Not being suited with the
city, Woodstock took a trip to the
interior and purchased a farm Ber
reen county. He came back Satur
day night, and the family would
have left Monday only for the oc
cur reneo of a sad affair clue to the
Peritanical ideas and hard-heartod
ness of the father.
The youngest of the children is a
boy about four years old, who being
a pet, has been allowed to sleep with
his parents. Sunday night the
Woodstock, desireing to go to
church;an effort was made to get
the boy to go bed with his older
brother. lie was frightened and
timid and made great opposition,
saying “that lie was afiaid of bears
and wolves.” The opposition irri
tated the father and he declared that
he would not go to church, and
that Charlie should go to sleep in
that bed. As the child kept crying
and teasing, the older one was made
togetupand sleep elsewlrere.—This
did not help matters of course, and
the Woodstock told the boy ho
would lock the door and leave him
in the dark if he did not cease cry
ing. Frightened further, the lad
continued weeping and beseeching,
and Woodstock did as he said he
would.
The boy screamed at the top of
his voice for a few minnets, beat on
the door, and entreated to be taken
out, but the father was unrelenting
as a rock. The wails gradually
died away, the lad ceased io shout,
and after ail hour the door was
opened. lie was not found asleep,
as expected, but he was crouched
down in a corner, his feet drawn up
under him, and it took only a mo
ment to convince the parents that
the boy had been rendered a lunatic
or an idiot. He laughed and talked
to himself, did not reply to a ques
tion, gave no one any notice, and
when the mother realized what had
occurred she fainted away. Every
effort was made by the friends to
bring the boy’s reason back, but
all failed, lie would not speak,
gave the other children no notice,
but wanted to roll around on the
floor and play with spools and
sticks. A physician was called on
Monday and two more on Tuesday,
but all wore agreed that the boy’s
reason had been affected by his
fright, and that he might bean idiot
for the rest of his days. The cir
cumstance hat nearly broken the
mother’s heart and, the father car
ries a conscience which any criminal
short of murder would not enjoy.
Wo me illy Modesty.
Man loves the mysterious. A
cloudless sky, the fullblown rose,
leaves him unmoved, but the violet
which hides its blushing beauties
behind the bush, and the moon,
when she emerges from behind a
cloud, are to him.sources of inspira
tion and pleasure. Modesty is to
merit what shade is to figures of
painting—it gives it boldness and
prominence. Nothing adds more
to female beauty than modesty ; it
sheds around the. countenance a ha
lo of light, which is borrowed from
virtue. Botanists have given to the
rosy hue which tinges the cup of
the white rose the name of “maiden
blush.” This pure and delicate hue
is the only paint Chr>stians should
use ;it is the richest ornament. A
woman without modesty is like a fa
ded flower, which the prudent gar
dener will throw from him. Her
destiny is melancholy, for it termi
nates in shame and repentance.
Beauty passes like the flower of the
aldo, which blooms and dies in a
fsw hours; but modesty gives the
female character charms which sup
ply the place of the transitory fresh
ness of youth.
—A little ten-year old miss told
her mother the other day that she
was going to marry, but meant to
be a .widow, because widows dress
ed in sucb niee black and always
looked so happy.
The Cattle Lord of Texas.
The St. Louis Journal of com
merce says: “During the late war
the Texas cattle regions were but
slightly devastated by the ravages
of war, which, on the contrary,
greatly enchanced the prosperity by
increasing the price of Texas cattle.
In the coast regions of Texas
are found those lands whose anima
ted treasures surpass, in number
and value, even the flocks and beards
of the great men of New York.
The Santa Cabrntus ranche, on the
Santa Cabrutus River, owed by
Colonel Richard King, embraces 84,
182 acres of land, stocked with 65,-
000 cattle, 10,000 horsey, 7,000
sheep, and 8,000 goats. For the
management of these immense
beards,9oo Mexican heardsmen and
1,000 saddle horses are held in con
stant requisition. Colonel King
each year brands 12,000 calves, and
sells 10,000 fat cattle, constantly
investing the surplus proceeds in
stock" cattle. O’Connor’s rancho,
twen’y miles below Golaid, on the
San Antonio River, in 1862, con
tained over 40,000 cattle; during
tiiat year on this estate 12,000 calves
were branded, and SBO,OOO realized
by the sale of cattle. This enter
prise was inaugurated ten years
previously with 1,5000 cattle. Ro
lideaux ranch, between the Nueces
and Rio Grande Rivers, owned by
Mr. Kennedy, is s fertile peninsula
of 142,840 acres, jutting out into
the Gulf of Mexico, the isthmus
being secured by thirty miles of
plank fence, guarded at intervals of
three miles by heardsmen’s ranches.
It already contains 30,000 beef
cattle, besides large numbers of oth
er stock. Other magnificant cattle
beards might be enumerated. The
net increase of cattle in this region
has been estimated as high as 25
per cent, per annum
“ Turning his animals loose to
graze at will ever a rang of coun
try often fifty miles square covered
witt nutritious grasses, in a genial
climate, in which shelter is unec
essary, the Texas stock raiser
confines his care to the indentifi
tion and marketing of animals
For the fomer purpose the stockmen
of the heighboring ranches assemble,
semi-annually in considerable force,
to scour the country for the pur
pose of branding the calves the own
ership of which is determined by the
baone of cows they follow or suck.—
This stock business, which has thus
grown from small beginnings, now
amounts to a magnificent industry,
the product of which reaches onr
mdst distant markets.’
Labor. —“Labor, ’ says the Rev.
Newman Hall, as a mighty magi
cian, walks forth into a region un
inhabited and waste; he looks earn
estly on the scene so quiet in its des
olation ; then waving his wonder
working wand, those dreary valleys
smile with golden harvest—those
barren mountains slopes are clothed
with foliage— the furnace blazes—
the anvil rings—the busy wheels
whirl round—the town appears—
the mart of commerce, the hall of
science, the temple of religion,
rear high their lofty front —a for
est of masts, gay with varied pen
nos rises from the harbor—the quays
are crowded with commercial spoils
which enrich both him who receives
and him who yield—representatives
of far off regions make it their re
sort—science enlist the elements of
the earth and heaven in its service
—art, awaking, clothes its strength
with beauty —literature, redoubles
and perpetuates its praise—civili
zation smiles —liberty is glad—hu
manity rej ices—piety exults, for
the voice of industry and gladuess
is heard ou every hand; and who,
contemplating such results, will de
ny that their is dignity in labor?”
Lime Whitewash.— As the sea
son for - general cleaning up and
whitewashing is upon us, the follow
ing directions for preparations of
whitewash properly may not be in
appropriate:
Lime whitewash is made from
lime well slacked. Dissolve two
pounds and a half alum iu boiling
water, and add it to every pailful
of whitewash. Lime whitewash
should be used very thin, and, when
it is sufficient bound on the wall
by means of alum, two thin coats
will cover the work better; this
may be used for the first coat thin
ned with water. Most whitewash
es apply their wash too thick, and
do not mix a proportionate quanti
ty of alum to bind it; consequently
the operation.of the brush rubs off
the first coat in various parts, and
leaves an uneven surface, and the
original smooth surface of the wall
is entirely destroyed.
TliefftoMe Revenge.
The coffin was a plain one—a
poor miserable pine coffiu. No
flowers on the top; no lining of
white satin for the pale brow ; no
smooth ribbons about the course
shroud. The brown hair was laid
decently back, but there was no
crimped cap with neat tie beneath
the chin. The sufferer from cruel
poverty smiled in her sleep; she
had found bread, rest and health.
“I want to see mother,” sobbed a
poor little child, as the undertaker
screwed down the top.
“You cannot, get out of the way,
boy—why don’t somebody take the
brat?”
“Only let me see her one minute!’’
cried the helplesfi orphan, clutching
the side of the charity-box and as
he gazed into tho rough box agoni
zed tears streamed down the cheek
on which no childish bloom ever
lingered. Oh, it was painful to hear
him cry the words : “Only once;
let me see mother, only once !”
Quickly and brutally the heartless
monster struck him away, so that
he reeled with the blow. For a mo
ment the boy stood panting with
grief and rage —his blue eyes dis
tended, his lips sprang apart, fire
glittering through his eyes as he
raised his little arm, with most un
cherished accent, and screamed
•‘When I’m a man I’ll kill you for
that 1”
There \va3 a coffin and a heap of
earth between the mother and the
poor forsaken child—a monument
much stronger than granite built
up in the boy’s heart to the memory
of the heartless deed,
* * * * * * *
The court house was crowed to
suffocation.
“Docs any one appearas this man’s
counsel?” asked the judge.
There was a silence when he had
finished, until, with lips tightly pres
sed together, a looic of strange iiTel
igence blended with haughty reserve
upon his handsome features, a
young man stepped forward with
a firm tread and Kindly eye to plead
for the erring and friendless. He
was a -stranger, but at the first sen
tence there was silence. The splen
dor of his genius entranced—convin
ced. The man who could not find
a friend was acquitted.
“May God bless von, sir, I can
not,” said. ho.
“I want no thauks,” replied the
stranger.
“I—l—l believe yon are un
known to me ?”
“Man, I will refresh your memory.
Twenty years ago this day, you
struck a broken hearted little boy
away from his mother’s coffin. I
was that boy !”
The man turned livid.
“Have you rescued me, then, to
take my life ?”
“No. I have a sweeter revenge.
I have saved the life of a man whose
brutal deed has rankled in my
breast for the last twenty years.
Go, then, and reinember the tears of
a friendless child.”
The man bowed his head in
shame and went from the presence
of magnanimity as grand to him as
incoraprehcnsive.
A Gentle Rebuke —A lady
riding in a car on the New York
Central Raailroad, was disturbed
in her reading by the conversation
of two gentleman occupying the
seat just before her. One of them
seemed lo be a student of some
college on his way home for a vaca
tion. He used much profane lan
guage, greatly to the annoyauce
of the lady.
She thought she would rebuke
him, and ou begging pardon for
uterrupting them, asked the young
atudeut if he had studied the lan
guages.
“Yes madam; I. have mastered
the languages quite well.”
“Do you read and speak He
brew ?”
“Quite fluently.”
* “Will you be so kind as to do me
a small favor ?”
“With great pleasure, I am at
your service.”
“Will you be so kind as to do
your swearing iu Hebrew ?”
We" may well suppose the lady
was not annoyed any more by the
ungentlemanly language of this
would be gentleman.
—A blacksmith brought up his
son, to whom he was very severe,
to his trade. One day the old man
was to harden a cold chisel, which
he had made of foreign steel, but
he could not succeed. “Horse
whip it father,” exclaimed the boy ;
“if that won’t harden it I don’t know
what will.”
NO. 20
Roy Love.
One of the funniest things in life
t) look back upon is boy love a pas
sion which generally comes iu with
trousers and shirt collars. No
sooner can a boy squint across his
mother’s workstand without stand
ing on tip toe, thatt he begins to
fancy himself a man, to ape manish
ways, and to “feel the want of a
es, one of whom is saying, “Now
don’t you tell for the world,” to
which they all assent with sundry
jerks of the.head ; and here just in
front of us “Uncle John,” asking
“Aunt Hannah,” about “that ar’
sick child,” at our left two young
ladies are watching with expectant
faces cortain boxes, to. see if ho has
written. And when the mail is dis
tributed it is quite a study to watch
the faces as the crowd passes out,
from the self-importance boy with
his huge budget, to the shy widow
with her single dainty missive ;
with now and then a sad face
yearning for words that do not
come. Tho dull, empty boxes
have a meaning less look about
them now, but a moment ago they
held the words of loving hearts
and issaesof important business rela
tions. •
*
To Stop Bleeding.—lt is said
that bleeding from a Wound on man
or beast may be stopped by a mixt
ure of wheat flour and common salt,
in equal parts, bound on with
cloth. If the bleeding be profuse,
use a large quantity—use one to
three pints. It may be left on four
hours, even days, if necessary.
The person who gives this receipt
says fn this manner he savod the
life of a wounded artery—the
bleeding ceased five minuets after
the application.— Rock River Far
mer.
To the Girls. — \Ye have lately
seen it stated that in’one town, four
girls were married at the isame hour,
about eighteen months ago. Two
separated from their husbands, and
the other two are trying for divorce.
Such tilings ought to wake up tho
girls to a seme of their danger.
Girls talk and laugh about marriage
as though it was a jubilee, a jolly,
gladsome thing—a rose without a
thorn. And so it is, if it is all right,
if the parties arc suited to each
other; if they are prepared for
inhrrigc ; if they know their duties ;
if they go about it like rational
beings, instead of merry-making
is a serious thing to
marry. It is a life business and
that of your heart and hapiness
Therfore never do it in haste ; never
run away to get married ; never
steal a marriage ; never marry for
wealth or standing, or fine person,
or manners ; but only for character,
for worth, for the qualities of mind
and heart which make an honorable
man.Take time, think long and
well before you accept any proposal.
Consult parents; some judicious
friend, then your own judgment.
Learn all it is posible to learn of
your proposed husband ; when all
doubts are removed, and not till then,
accept him.
The Longest Bridge in ins
World —The Tensas and Mobile
bridge or bridges on the Mobile and
Montgomery Railroad extends from
Tensas station on the M. and M.
Road, to the city of Mobile, a dis
tance of fifteen miles, crossing both
Mobile and Tensas rivers and in
cluding ten draw, one for each of
the navigable channels into which
the rivers are divided. The bridge
itself is constructed of wood, but
its p'llars or surpoorters are iron
cylinders, which rest on a solid sur
face of wooden piles driven down
evenly with the bottom of the
stream and the mud of the inter
vening niorrasses. It has been
three years in the course of con
struction at a cost of about sl,-
500,000, and, now that it lias been
successfully completed, it ie per
haps the longest structure on the
globe. It shortens the distance
from Montgomery to Mobile by
about 12 miles of travel and three
hours of time and secures a coniin
uous route of railroad between
Montgomery and New Orleans.
No Chance foe Distinction.
—Olive Logan tells a good story
of a little girl who asked her moth
er if she could wear her new silk
dress in heaven. “No,” w r as the
answer. “Well, then,” continued
the little querist, “how will the
angels know that I belonged to the
better class of society?” The
mother is still ponding over an an
swer.
A matrimonially inclined contem
porary gays that a girl with three
thousand a year, or more, is always
an object of interest, because she
has so much principal.