Newspaper Page Text
VOL. VI.
THE APPEAL.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY,
By J. P. SAWTELL
Terms of Subscription:
ON'S? Year. ...$3 00 | Six Months. ...$2 00
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
XW -No attention paid to orders for tbe pa
per iin’ess uocompanled by the Cash.
Rates of Advertising
Lne square, (ten lines or less.) $1 00 for the
'first and? 5 Cents for eaoh subsequent inser
'tion. A liberal deduction made to parties
Who advertise by tlie year-
Persons sending advertisements should mark
the number of times they desire them inser
ted, or they will be continued until forbid and
-'barged accordingly. •
• Transient advertisements must be paid lor
'at the t ime of insertion. If not paid for before
the expiration of the. time advertised, 20 per
'cent.'additional will be charged.
Announcing names of candidates for oihce,
00. Cash, in all cases.
Obituary notices over five lines, charged at
‘regular advertising ra*es.
All communication’s intended to promote the
ends or interests of Corporations, So
cieties, or individuals, will be charged as ad
vertisements. __ , ■ _.
Jon Work, such as Pamphlets, Circu.ars,
Cards, Blanks, Handbills,etc.,will be execu
ted m good style and at, reasonable rates.
All Utters addressed to-tjie Proprietor will
be promptly attended to.
Johnny’s • Opinion o<
Grandmothers.
Grarfdmotherji are very nice folks ;
They beat all tbe aunts in creation ;
They Ut a cintp do as be likes.
And don't worry about education.
I'm sure I can’t see it at all, ■
What a poor fellow ever could do
For apples, pennies and cakes,
Without a grnndmotbev or two.-
Grandmothers speak soltly to “ ma's”
To let a boy have a good time - ;
Sometimes they will whisper, tis true,
T’other way when a boy wauts to climb.
Grandpiotheis have muffins for tea,
And pies, a whole row, in the cellar,
And they’re npt (if they know it in time)
To make chicken-pies for a ‘'feller.
Amkif he is bad ilow and then.
And makes a great racketing noise,
They only look over their specs,
And say “ Ah, these boys will be boys.
*• Life is only so short in the best;
Let the children be happy to-day,”
’Then they look for a while at the sky.
And the liill&.that are far, far away.
Quite often, as twilight conic on.
Grandmothers sing hymns, very low, -
To themselves,-as the rock by the fire,
About heaven and when they shall go.
And then, a boy stopping to think; ,
Will find a hot tear indits eye,
To know what wilt come at the last;
For grandmothers all have to die.
I wish they Could stay here and pray,
For a boy needs their prayers ev’ry night;
Some boys more tlian-othcre, I s’pose ;
Such as 1 need a wonderful sight.
[Little Sower.
Sunshine in Dwetlixgs. —The
time will very likely come when
sunshine, sunlight will bo so util
ized as to be the entire remedy
used for very many diseases. That
it is a wonderful vitalizer, none can
‘doubt who knows anything about it.
But how many houses arc con
structed with a view to get all the
sunshine possible, especially when
so much is heeded as in winter and
spring? The living, or sitting
room, at these seasons of the year,
at least, should have a.full southern
exposure, with large windows to
let in the sunshine. Sleeping rooms,
wardrobes, closets, passage-ways,
should receive the cleansing, vivify
ing influence of -the sun. Sickly
persons should court the sunshine
as much as possible—sit in it, luxu
riate in it. It does not cost any
thing, only appreciation.
• A room warmed neither by tbe
sun, nor by tire, is unhealthy, and
not tit for habitation. It is a poor
theory that sends men, women or
children off into a cold room to
sleep,, on health principles, When
warmth has been excluded- for a
clay or a week, perhaps months.—
Tbe change in the -temperature of a
room having both fire and sunshine,
after the sun goes down, is exceed
ingly marked. A perceptible chill
is felt..
“ Your dress,” said a husband
to his fashionable wife, “ will never
please the men.”' “ I don’t dress
to please'*men,” was the reply, '‘but
to worry other women.”
An Illinois man who was late
ly arrested for obtaiuing money un
der false pretences was discharged
on his producing A receipt-showing
that he had paid l his subscription
in advance for thirty-six years.
A Western man at a “ prayer
meeting” said somewhat enviously :
“ Br'o. Lawson can sing better than
I can, but by the grace of Heaven
I can fiddle his shirt oft’.”
The receipt of eggs in Hew
York city for nine mouths of 1869
averaged 1000 barrels per day. A
barrel contains some eithty dozen
or 960 eggs \ the aggi egate, there
fore, was in one day nearly a mill
ion. One thousand barrels of eggs,
ait an average price -of 30 cents per
dozen amounts to $24,000 per day,
or $3,609,00*0 per annum.
CUTHBERT Ml APPEAL.
An Adroit Sell.
One day a gentleman called at
the store of Mr. Ralph Hardman,
in Pawtcket, with a violin under
his arm. He purchased a necktie,
for which he paid fifteen cents, and
then asked permission to le&ve his
box while he did a few errandsdown
town. Old Hardman—a dealer in
new and second hand clothing—had
no objection.
“It is a violin,” «aid the gentle
man, “which 1 prize very highly.
It was given me,by an Italian, who
died at my father’s house. * I beg
of you to be careful of it, sir.”
Mr. Hardman promised, and the
pwner of the precious violin depart
ed!
Toward noon, while the old cloth
ing dealer was very deeply engaged
in the work of scllingasuit of shod
dy for a bang-u 1 1 Pni3ian tricot, a
stranger entered the store, a re
markably well dressed man, with a
distinguished look. The violin,
bow was in sight upon the shelf,
and as no one was near to prevent
it the new comer slipped . around
opened the. box and took out the
instrument—a very dark hued and
ancient looking one.
“Hallo,” cried Hardman when he
heard the sound of the violin, “what
for you touch dat, eh?”
The stranger explained that he
was a professor—that he . was a
leader of orchestra — and that he
could never see a violin without
trying it. And then liq drew the
bow across' the strings, playing a
few passages of a fine old German
waltz. •<' •'
“My soul,” he cried, after lie had
run his lingers over the instrument
awhile, “that is the bhst violin I
ever saw. The.re is not a better
one in the oity—a perfectly gen
uine old Cremosa. I will give you
a hundred dollars for it.”
Ilarriman said it was not his.
“I will give you a hundred and
fifty ! Two hundred;”
Mr. Hardman was forced to ex
plained how the violin came to be
left in the. store. The stranger had
taken out his pocket book, and
drawn forth two one hundred dollar
bank notes. He put tnerti back, re
marking : *
“I must have the violin if money
will buy it. When thq owner re.
turns, will you ask him tb wait for
me? If he can not wait, ask him
to meet me here at 6 o’clock If he
cannot do that, tell him to call at
the office of the treasure Academy
of Music, and iuquirc for the direc
tor of the orchestra. .Will you'd©
that?
Hardman paid he would.
“Hut,’’ suggested the stranger,
“you need not tell the man what
I said about his violin, nor what I’ve
offered; becacuse he may have
no idea of the treasures he possess
es. You will be careful arid cir
cumspect.”
Tlj'e . stranger went, away, and
Ralph Hardman reflected. In the
courso of atrhour the owner of the
violin returned, and asked for the
box. But the shoddy man had been
captivated by-the golden bait.
“What wQuld’the gentleman sell
his violin for f”
At'first the*gentleman would not
listen to tin; proposition ; but, after
a deal of talk-, he confessed that he
was not himself a professor, and
could not well afford to keep such
a validate instrument. lie would
sell it for §175 not 'a -penny less.
Ralph Hardman paid the money;
and became the legal possessor of
the violin, ready to take anywhere
from §3OOJ.Q §SOO from the direct'
or of the orchestra, as he might be
able.
But the director did not come.
At the end of a week, Hardman
carried the volin to a- professional
friend, and asked him what was'its
real value. His friend examined it,
and said :
‘*T wo ’dollars and a half, without
the box.” - ' • .
Ralph Hardman was strongly of
the opinion that tire gentleman who
left the violin in his possession- was
a swindler, and that the director
was a partner in the business, -and
that, altogether, they had made hiyi
their victim. That night shoddy
was marked up ten per cent.
A newly married woman, of
genteel appearance, went into . a
furniture shop a few days since,
and inquired for a family fruit bas
ket. She was shown a large cra
dle, which was just what she want
ed,.
An old bachelor recently gave
the following toast: “ Woman—the
morning star of'infancy, the day
star of manhood, and the evening
star of age. Bless our stars, and
may they always be kept at tele
scopic distances.”
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JUNE 14, 1872.
The Bridal Wine Cup.
- ‘Pledge with wine—pledge with
wine !’ cried the young thoughtless
Harvey Wood; ‘pledge with wine !’
ran through the bridal party.
The beautiful bride grew pale—
the hour had come. She
pressed her white hands together,
•and the leaves of the bridal wreath
trembled on her brow, her breath
came quicker, and her heart beat
wilder.
‘Yes, Marion, lay aside your scru
ples for thiff once,’ said the judge, in
alow tone, going to ward.his daugh
ter. ‘the company expect it. Do
not so seriously infringe upon the
rules of etiquette. In your own
home do as you please me.’
Every eye .was turned toward the
bridal pair.- Marion’s principles
were well known. Harvey had been
a convivalist, but of late his friends
noticed the change in his manners,
the difference in habits —and to
night they watched him .to see, as
they sneeringly said, if lie was down
to a woman’s opinion so soon.
Pouring a brimming cup, they
held it with tempting smiles to
ward Marion. She was very pale,
though more composed; and her
hand shook not as smiling back,
she gracefully accepted the crystal
tempter and raised it to her lips.
But scarcely had she done so, when
every hand was arrested by her
piercing exclamation of ‘O! how ter
ribble.’-
What is it? cried ope and all,
thronging together, for she had
slowly carried the glass at arm’s
length, and Was -fixed regarding as if
it were some hideous object.
Wait, she answered, while a
light, which seemed inspired, shone
from her dark eyes, ‘Wait, and I
will tell you. I see, she added slow-'
ly, pointing one jeweled finger at the
sphrkling ruby liquid, a sight that
beggars all description; and yet lis
ten -1 will paint it for I can. It is
a lovely’ Spot; tall mountains crowd
ed with verdure rise in awful sub
fimity around, a river runs •through
and bright flowers grow'to the wa
ter’s edge. There is a thick warm
mist, that the sutr seeks vainly to
pierce. Trees, lofty and beautiful
waive to the airy motion of the
birds; but there—a group of Indians
gather; they flit to and fro, with
something like sorrow upon their
dark brows. And in their midst
lies a manly form—but his cheek,
hpw deathly; his eye, wild with the
fitful fire of fevec. One friend
stands, beside him—nay, I should
say, kneels, for see, lie is pillowjng
that poor head upon his breast.
‘Genius in ruins—Oh the high, ho
ly looking brow! why should death
mark it, and lie so young! Look
how lie throws back the damp, curlsl
see how clasped his hands! hear his
thrilling shrieks for lrfe! m'ark how
lie clutches at the'i'orm of his com
panion, imploring, to be saved. - Oh,
hear him call piteously his 'father’s
him twine his fingers to :
g'ether as he shrieks for his sister —
his only sister—the twain of his
soul—weeping for him in his dis
tant'native land.
‘See,’ she exclaimed, while the
bridal party shrank buck, the un
tasted wine trembling-in their fal
tering grasp, and the judge fell over
powered, upon his seat —‘see! his
arms are lifted to heaven—he prays,
how wildly, for mercy! hot fever
rushes through, his veins. The
friend beside him is weeping awe
struck; the dark men move silently
away and leave the living and the
dying together.’
There’ was. a hush in that prince
ly parlor, broken only by what
seemed a smothered sob from bis
manly bosom.
The bride stood yet, upright,
with quivering lip', and tears steal
ing to the outward edge of her lasli
’es. Her beautiful arm had lost its
tension,-and the glass, with its little
troubled red waves, came slowly
toward Hie range of her vision.
She spoke again; every lip was mute.
Her voice was low, faint, yet awful
ly distinct; she still fixed her sorrow
ful glance upon the wine cup:
Ht is evening now; the great white
mopn is coming up and her . beams
lie gently' on his . fore-head. lie
moves not; his eyes are set in their
sockets; dim are their pieVciug glan
ces; in vain his friends whispers, the
name of mother and sister—death is
there. Death--and no soft hand,
no gentle voice to bless ancl soothe
him. His head sinks back! one con
vulsive shudder—he isdvtad!’
A groan ran through the assembly.
So vivid was her description, so un
earthly her look, so inspired her
maimer, that what she described
seemed actually to have taken place
then aud there. They noticed, also,
that the bride groom “had. his face in
his hands and was weeping.
‘Dead !’ she repeated again her
lips quivering faster, and her voice
more and more broken; there,
without a shrovr-d, they lay him
down in that damp reeking earth;
the only son of a proud father, the
idolized brother' of a fond sister.
And he sleeps to day in the. distant
country, with no stone to mark the
spot. There he lies—my father’s
son—my own twin brother! a vic
tim to this deadly poison.’ ‘Father,*
she exclainfed, turning suddenly,
while the tears ran down her beauti
ful cheeks, ‘father, shall-I drink it
now?’
The form of the old Judge, was
convulsed with agony. He raiied
not hrs head, but in a smothered
voice he faltered, ‘Ho, no/ my child
—Ho!’
She lifted the glittering goblet,
and letting it' suddenly fall to the
floor, it was dashed into a thousand
pieces. Many a tearful eye watched
her movement, and instantaneously
every wine glass was transfered to
the marble table on which it had
been prepared. Then as she looked
at the fragments of crystal, she tur
ned to the company, saying: ‘Let
no friend hereafter, who loves me,
tempt pie to peril my soul for wine.
Hot firmer are the everlasting hills
than my resolve, *G6d. helping me,
never to touch or taste the poisoned
cup. And him to whom I have giv
en niy hand—who watched over my
brothers dying form, in that solemn
hour, and buried the dear wanderer
there by the river, in that land of
gold,—will, I trust, sustain ,me in
that resolve. Will you not my hus
band ? . • •
His glistening eyes, his,sad, sweet
smiles, was his answer. The Judge
left the the room and when, un hour
after, he returned, and with a more
subdued manner took part in the
entertainment of the . bridal guests,
no one could fail to read that he,
determined to banish the
enemy at once and forever from his
princely home. **
Those that were present at that
\vcdding can never forget the im
pressions so solemnly made. Many
Irom that hour renounced the social
glass.— ChrsUian Guardian.
—Of “treating” • T. K. Beecher
says: “How, boys, if.-you wish to
be generous ami treat e?ich other,
vvhy not select some other shop be
sides the liquor Shop? Suppose,
as you go by the post office, you
say “CotnCj boys, come ip and take
some slumps.” Those stamps will
do your friends a real good, and
will '' cost you no more than driuks
all around.’ Or go by the tailor’s
stjore and say, “Boys, come in and
take a box of collars.” Walk up
to the counter, free and generous,
and say, “VVhat style will you
have ?” W.hy not treat to collars
as well as treat to driuks ? or co
by a confectioner’s and propo.se to
treat to chocolate drops all round ?
or say, “I’ll stand a jack knife all
round.”
• - «lr -
A touching incident is reported
from Chattnooga. An utter stran
ger called on a respectable farmer
last week, and asked him if lus
house had been fobbed during the
vPaf.-The fai me, replied that it had.
“I,?’ said the stranger “was one of
the marauding party that did it.
I took a little silver locket.” “That
locket,” said the farmer bursting
into tears,” had been worn by my
little dead child,” “Here it is”
replied the straDger visibly affect
ed; “I’m rich ; let me make restitu
tion ; here are §2O fox* your little
son.” He.gave the farmer a SSO
bill and received §3O in change.* An
then wrung the farmer’s hand
warmly and left. The farmer has
since dried his tears and loaded his
gun! • The §SO was • bad.
: ..
The following very perspicu
ous and laconic manner of telling a
plain story may be instructive to
slanders': •
"’Mother Jasper told me that she
heard Grate Wood’s wiser say that
John Hardstone’s aunt mentioned
to her that-Mrs. Trusty was pres
ent when the widow Barman said
that Captain IlearteU’s cousin
thought Ensign Doolittle’s sister
believed* that Mrs. Oxby reckoned
that Sam Trifle’s better half had’
told Mrs. Spaulding that she heard
John Rheunei’’s woman say that
her mother told her that Mrs. Rag
stello had two husbands.”
—At a concei’t recently, at the
conclusion of the song, “There’s a
good time coining,”, a country
farmer got up and exclaimed :* “Mis
ter, you couldn’t fix the date, could
you r>
Beware!
Bewear of eating too much pie
plant -pie.
Beware of sitting in a draught
when warm.
Beware of sleeping too late in the
morning.
Beware of mets and women who
talked too much.
Beware of men wljp get drunk
and beat their wives.
Beware of marrying a woman you
cannot support.
Beware of buying more than you
are able to pay for.
Beware of drinking too much
ice water in the summer.
Beware of promising more than
you are able to perform.
Beware of sudden conversion,
for disguises are easily put on.
Beware of. men who have no line
of principle, but who work from
•policy. *.-.'.
Beware of the person who never
finds anything good in. his neigh
bors.
Beware of the preacher who says
his route is the only one to Heav
en.
Beware of men who are idle and
indifferent as to woik and result.
Beware of men who drink evkry
time they'are asked to.
Beware of the girl who is ashamed
of the kitchen, or to help her mother.
Beware of every one who pro
poses to do something simply for
your benefit.
Beware of men who say politics
and money-making dre the same
thing.
Beware of doctors who caunot
take their own medicines, or stand
by their own party/
Beware of the boy who is too big
to help his father, or who denies his
relatives.
Beware ol the man who cheats
the printer or. refuses to take his
county paper. •
•
Gux Powder. —A little sulphur, a
• little charcoal, and a little nitre,
ground together, and we have that
wonderful mixture which rules, for
good or for evil, the destinies of
■ men. When gunpowder is ignited,
the’solid is almost instantly convert
ed into gas,.which, were it fired
under water, and the gas * cooled
down to the ordinary temperature
of the air, would be found to occu
py 900 times the space of the solid
powder. Gases . are,~ however,
known to expand with an immense
force when heated yand/rs the gass
of gunpowder are, in ordinary, pro
jected at a red heat, they are con
sequently greatly expanded, amoun.
ting, it is estimated, to more than
2,500 times the'volume of the pow
der burned; and it is here we see
whence springs the power of reject
ion of firearms. Great are the evils
of wars, the use of gunpowder has
shortened their duration from years
to days.
Going a Fishing.
The following is an “order for
supplies” recently sent to an Amer
icas (Ga.) grocer by a fishing ex
cursion party:
Dear Sir — a couple
of friends leave this morning on a
fishing excursion, and you will
please send us, by bearer, the fob
lowing -articles, which, if you pre
fer it, you can charge to either
Jack Brown or Ben Lockett. Ei
ther is the - safest.
Four pounds of salt and a small
cask of whiskey.
One pound of ground black pep
per and a demijohn of whisky.
Ten pounds of lard,‘and a large
jug of whisky. *
One canvassed ham and six quart
bottles of whisky.
Three good, stout fishing lines
and three pocket flasks of whisky.
One paper of large Dimeric*
hooks, and a gallon of whisky in
•any old vessel you don’t use about
the store. .
. Also, send one pound of white
sugar and a small jug of whisky.
Hurriedly, yours,
Phil Cook.
P. S. —As we shall be gone sev
eral days, and as snakes are bad
on the river at this season, my
physician has just stepped in and
suggested that we better take along
a little whisky. Send it, and en*
ter it on your books with other
items above. •
—An Indiana farmer, after try
ing to trap, poison and shoot rats
that over-rati his premises, bought
two goats and gave them the range
of yards arid stables. Within a
week every rat emigrated and staid
away until the goats were sold,
nearly two years afterward, when
they all canje back. A second sup
ply of goats were procured, and
since then not a rAt has been seen
on the premises. •'X '
—’Josh Billings says that slan
der is like a tin -kettle tied, to a
dog’s tail—very good ftift as long;
as it isn’t our dog. ' . • r
Phil Cook
A Good Word tor Romp*
■ng Gials.
Most women have a dread of
these, Mothers would rather their
little daughters were called any
thing but romps. They say to
them, “be very quiet now, my
dears—don’t run or jump, try and
be little ladies.” As if a healthy
child cold be still, as if it could
take time to walk or step over what
came in ita way; as if it could fold
•its little hands in its lap, when its
little heart is brimfhl of tickle.
It is so absurd and wrong be
cause it is unnatural. Children,
girls as well as boys, need exercise,
indeed they must have it to be
kept in a healthy condition. They
need it to expand their chest,
strengthen their muscles, tone their
nerves, and develop themselves
generally. And , this exercise
must be out of doors too. It is
not enough to have ealisthemies in
the nursery or parlor.—They need
to be out in the sunshine, out in
tbe wind, out on the grass, out in
the woods, out of doors some where,
if it be no bigger place than the
common park. Suppose then they
do tan their faces. Better be as
a berry and have the bluses quick
and strong, than white as a lillj'
aqd complain of cold feet and
headache. Suppose thoy do tear
their clothes, tear them “every
which way,” suppose they do wear
out their clothes, a pair a month,
even; it don’t try a mother’s pa
tience and strength half so much to
patch and mend it as it does to
watch night after night a quarulous
sick child; and it dont drain a
father’s pock,et book half so quick,
to buy shoes as it does to pay doc
tors’ bills. The odds are all the side
of the romps. Indeedj we don’t
believe there is a prettier picture in
all the wide world than that of a
little girl, balancing herself on the
topmost rail otazig zig fence, her
bonnet on one arm and a basket
of blackberries on the other, her
curls streaming out in the wind, or
rippling over her flushed cheeks,
her apron half torn from her waist,
and dangling to her feet, her fingers
stained with the berries she has
picked, and her lips with those she
eaten. Mother, mother don’t scold
thatJitlle creature when she comes
in and puts her basket on the table,
and looks Fuefully at the in her new
gingham apron, and at the little
bare toes sticking out of the last pair
of shoes. Wash off her hot face
and soiled hands, and give .her a
bowl of cool milk and light bread,
and when she has eaten her fill and
got rested, make her sit down be
side you and tell you what she has
seen off in those meadows and
woods. Her heart will be full of
beautiful things—the sound of the
wind, the talk of the leaves, the mu
sic of the wild birds and the laugh
of the wild flowers, the rippling of
the streams and the coior of peb
bles, the shade of the clouds and the
hue of the sunbeams—all those will
have woven their spell over her in
nocent thoughts, and made her a
poet In feeling, if not in expression.
Ho, mothers,, don’t nurse up your
little girls like house plants. The
daughters of this generation are. to
be the mothers of the next, and if
you would have them healthy in
body and genial in temper, free from
nervous affections, fidgets and blues;
if yon would fit then for life, itsj’oys,
its cares, and its trials, let them
have a good romp every day while
they are growing. It is natures’
own specific, and, if taken in season,
is warranted to cure all the ills of the
_ •
girl and the womah.
Discontent. —Some people are
neyer coDtent with their lot, let
what will happen. . Clouds and
darkness are over their heads, alike
whether it rain dr shine. To them
every incident is ail accident or a
calamity. Even when they have
their own way, they like it no bet
ter than your way, and* indeed,
consider their most vdiutitary acts
as matters of compulsion. We saw
a striking illustration the other day
of the infirmity we speak of, in the
conduct of a child about three years
old. He was crying because his
mother had shut the parlor door.—
“ Poor thing,” said a neighbor, com
passionately* “ you have - shut the
child out.” “It’s all the same to
him,” said the mother; “he would
cry if I called him in and then shut
the door. I’ts a peculiarity of Jhat
boy, that if he is left rather sudden
ly on either side of a door* he con
siders himself shut out and rebels
accordingly.” There are older ehil
drea who take the same view of
things.— Our Own fireside. •
Till! Aiggin’s ISosaey
ITlooii.
•Seems to me things have chang
ed Somewhat! Seems to me so —
bust me up if it dop’t! I’ve been
married near six months now, and
the fact is, Susan shows the least
bit'more temper than I thought
she had ; in fact to speak the right
down truth, she’s knocked things
about generally for the last two
months.
She siting the cat through the
window by the tail and would have
thrown me out by the—heels, if I
hadn’t walked out in a fast run.—
She’s got as cross as four sticks,
and says slie’ll use a half dozen
sticks on my back if I don’t quit
smoking in the house. And she
threatened to throw a boot-jack
down my throat last night because.
I spit in the fire. If she had done
that, I supposed I’d have the colic
or boot-jack cramp.
“Timothy P. Higgins,’* said I to
myself, says I, “you’ve gone and
done it, and you have got to put up
with the. consequences, you have }
come what will you can’t get out
of it, you can’t.”
A girl loses her beauty "mighty
quick after she becomes Mrs. Su
san Sunflower was«as pretty as Ve
nus, but just as soon as I married
her, her skin turned yellow, her
eyes lost their beauty, her hair got
thin, and she got to be just the
shape of'an . ale cast; she has by
jingo ! And O, what a happy tem
per she has got ! Never knowed
her mad before I married her;-, nor
ever to offer to throw the stove
or chair down‘anybody’s throat;
no nevty, until she was Mrs. N'g
gins;—Aunt says she’ll come‘out
all right after awhile; I don’t see
why she can’t bo all right now, I
don’t; If she don’t improve, the
Lord help me !
“Jist you spit in that fire again,”
says she to me yesterday “jist do
it again," and I’ll throw this stick
of wood down your throat ! What
did I marry you for? To run
around after you, and make up the
fire after you spit it out J You tor
menting beast! Did I marry you
to slave and work, while yoifsmokc
and spit ia the fire ? There’s them
chickens I had to feed, too; and
there’s Ben Dyke’s hog got into the
garden and dug up my seed beets
and you never saw it; there’s that
blamed old rooster scratched up
my onion-bed, and you never saw
it! And you never see nothing you
ought to see'! There’s.Aun Bus
ter, who was over here yesterday, I
saw you wink at her ! L saw you
Tim Higgins! Don’t you say you
didn’t; I saw you—l saw you !”
A Racy Examination,
Tbe following racy examination
of candidates for admission to the
bar is taken from the Western Law
Journal:
The examination - commenced
with:
“Do you smoke ?”
“I do-, sir.”
“Have you a spare cigar ?”
“Yes/sir,” (extended a short six)
“How, sir, what is the first duty
of a lawyer ?”
“To collect fees.” •
“Right. What is the second ?’>
“To increase the number of cli
ent.”
•‘When does the position towards
client change ?”
“When making out a bill of
costs.”
“Explain.”
“We then occupy the antagonist
ic position. I become the plaintiff
and he becomes the defendant.”
“A suit decided* how do you stancj
with the lawyer conducting the
other side ? ”
‘‘Cheek by jowl.”
“Enough, sir. You promise to
become an ornamant to your pro
fession, and I wish you success.
Now, are you aware of the duty
you owe me ?”
“Perfectly.”
“Describe it.”
“It is to invite yoli to drink ”
“But suppose I decline ?”
Candidate scratches his head.
“There is no instance of the kind
on record in the books. I cannot
answer the question.”
“You are right. And the confi
dence with which you iftakc the as
sertion shows conclusively that you
read the law* attentively’. Let’s
have a drifik, and I will sign your
certificate.”
A thick-headed squire, being
worsted by Sydney Smith, took his
revenge by exclaiming, “ If I had a
son who was an idiot, by Jove, ;I’d
make him a parson.” “ Very prob
able,” replied. Sydney, but I sec
father was of a different riiiud.”
HO. 24
How Indians Catch Ea
gles. ' '
The son of a physician of Du
buque, who is now stationed at Fort
Buford, Dacotah ' Territory, has
written a long letter to bis father
giving some interesting items with
regard to the Indians. An extract
is appended :
‘ The camp of Indians which we
visited' wore chiefly engaged iri
catching war eagles, to make head
dresses. They have a wooden
lodge built in the camp where the
medicine ceremony necessary to
catch is performed. Ho woman is
allowed to enter the lodge. They
can come to the door and hand irt
provisions, but must not cross the
threshold. You will not be allowed
to spit on the floor, and must sit in
a certain position of the lodge;—
You must enter and pass out at the
north door. Wash and I were let
in to see the ceremonies.
When a man goes to trap the ea
gles, lie first goes to the medicine
lodge, and is not allowed to go to
sleep until midnight; he then eats
a little and sleeps until the' morn
ing star riles. He, with his com
rades, Ufcen go out to the traps
without food or drink, and sit all
day in tho traps watching for the
eagles. At night they return and
enter the modieino lodge, ainf at
midnight only do they eat and
drink, and break their long fast of
twenty-four hours' duration. They
then are allowed to sleep until
dawn, when they go'out again, and
stay four days, during which -time
.they have food and drink four times
and have never entered their own
lodges or spoken to their friends,
unless such as may be trapping
with them. After the four days
are up, they go back to. their lodges}
lean, and tired and sleepy, and
sleep and eat and hunt deer until
they are able to try another four
days’ trapping excursion. The ea
gles are- brought alive into the
camp, and after some ceremonj’' tho
tails are pulled out, and they are
let go to grow another tail for the
next year. The traps consist of a
hole in the ground covered with
sticks and grass. A dead rabbity
fox or prairie chicken is tied to the
top; the eagle swoops down and
fastens his claws into it and tries
U> fly away with it, but the Indian
(who is concealed in the hole) puts
out his hand, catches tbe eagle by
both legs, hauls him into the hole
and ties him. He then fixes the
top and waits for another eaaje-.
We saw one man there who had
caught six eagles in ono day in this
way.
They say if they do not fast and
do their- medicine properly the ea
gle will get one of his claws loose
and tear their hands. Some have
had their hands ruined forever in
this way. If a man does not catch
an eagle during the day, ho ia
obliged to moan arid cry all night;
we could hardly sleep with the noise
made at night by the unsuccessful
hunters.
A Hew York schoolboy de
fined a lady to be a growed-up
girl who doesn’t cuss rior swear.”
Why is a poor doctor like a mule ?
Because you can track him by his
holes in the ground;
—A friend, who prides himself
on his avei’sion to anything like-
Blang, said he had taken an anti-
Wiliiam-ous pill.
—Man was created to search for
truth, to love the beautiful, to de
sire what is good, and to do what
is best.
. Some people act as if their
debts were like coffee, and would
settle themselves, in time by stand
ing-'
—An old sailor at the theatre
said he supposed the dancing girls
wore their di-esses half-mast as a
mark of respect to departed mod
esty.
—“Prisoner, why did you follow
this man, and beat and kick him so
shamefully?” “I'm. sorry, your
honor; I was a little drunk, and
thought it was mv wife.”.
A Hew Aork dentist disgust
ed one oi bis patrons recently by
requesting him not to open his
niDuth any wider, as he intended to.
stand outside during the perform
ance.
—A witness was examined be
fore a judge in a case of slander,
who required him to repeat the pre
cise words spoken. The witness,
fixing . his eye upon the judge, Be
gan : “Alay it please your liprior
you lie, steal, and get your livyjg
by cheating.” The face of tho
judge reddened, and he. exclaimed:
“Turn your faCe to the jury,, sir,
wfien you speak.’ r .