Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

FARM FENCES. Ilnur to Avoid Accidents from Barbed WIra— Renewal of Old Board Fence*. Heavy rail fences and expensive post ami board barriers are largely diapl^^w) bv barl>ed wire. Wire fences are often made by simply stretching five or six wires from.post to post. Such a fence b nearly invisible, and there is danger of animals dashing against it when run- Postscrtpts. , claimed by & good many people that RUT A i STONE WAU. UNDER THE BARBED Wilt Its. xiiriif and becoming torn by the points. S, netimes a partial remedy is effected ni the one or two fence boards nailed to tim posts to render the line visible, but these are liable to become loosened and detached, and a larger number of posts is required to hold the boards. For localities where there are many small stones scattered in the fields, and where it would l>e a positive advantage to get rid of some of these in construct- ini' a small, loose riprap wall on the line of the fence and under the barbed wire, these become a visible and effective barrier. Fewer wires’ are needed, three being sufficient where five or six are re- quieed on level ground. If the wall is rat her small, or if t he barrier is to be rendered stronger and more visible, two or race furrows may be turned from the foot of the wall. As no animals will wish to crowd or lean against such a- wai; less strength is reqnired in the p ots: and tiro stones partly supporting tie 11, the post holes need not be dug so lb nor are very long posts required. It is hardly necessary to add that the p -ts are to bo set before the line of fctt-n ‘s is placed in position. Fig. 1 rep resents such a fence. In the absence of stones a small open ditch on each side of the fence answers squally well. The line of posts is first let, imu then several furrows are plowed -ft the “gist” of a woman’s letter is more apt to lie in the iiostecript (without which she is popularly supposed to consider no letter complete) than anywhere else. The author "b * Club Corner” tells several stories which seem to indicate that there have been occasions on which members of the stronger sex have made use of the post script to convey the most important part of the message. He says: A spy named Palmer, sent by Sir Henry Clinton, the British commander, had been detected furtively collecting information of the force and condition of the poet at Peekskill, and had undergone a military trial. A vessel of war came np the Hebron in all haste, and landed a flag of truce at Ver- planck’s point, by which a message was transmitted to Putnam from Clinton, claiming the said Palmer as a lieutenant In the British service. Putnam replied: “Headquarters, 7th Angnst, 1777. Ed ward Palmer, an officer in the enemy’s service, was taken as a spy lurking within our lines. He has been tried as a spy, and shall be executed as a spy, and the flag is ordered to depart immediately. “Israel Putnam. “P. S:—He has accordingly been exe cuted." Another Instance is given in the reply sent to the bishop of Norwich In acknowl edgment of an invitation: “Mr. O ’s private affairs turn out so sadly that he cannot have the pleasure of waiting upon his lordship at his agreeable home on Monday next. “N. B.—His wife is dead.” As one example of the feminine post script the anthor mentions a young lady who, having gone out to India, wrote home to her friends, after a long silence, con cluding her letter thus: “P. S.—You will see by my signature that I am married!”—Youth’s Companion. beautiful, delicate, fragile vase. The fruit of n mold that ivasquaint and olden, flashed with the charm of a subtle grace. And gleamed with a light that was rich aao golden. A blundering band and a careless blow. And the fragile form la crushed and shat tered; . Its charm and its graces are lying low. In a thousand fragments scattered. And never again while the world shall stand Can the wrong of that reckless blow be righted; Ah! uever, not rVn by an artist's hand. Can the scattered fragments be united. Go, paste them into their former shape. The sears on the surface will still showtnees. And unjoined edges will stand agape Where once stood countless graces. And what is my life bnt a crystal vase That on awkward' blow has shattered and broken? Its former beauty no touch may retrace. And Its wreck of its richness Is only a token. The pieces are fitted together again. But the tone aud the color are all unblended, I feel, with the pang of a nameless pain. It Is only a vase that is mended. —William Rice Sims in New York World. within our homes we would nse the sam- “specks" That we use when we visit next door. And search for the flaws as we did over there I think we would And many more, we’d use the same “specks" when we look at ourselves That we don when our company’s near, fear we would need what would uingaify leas. Or astonish .-d we’d be, never fear! BAKIIE1, WIRE FENCE WITH DITCH AND UiNK ON EACH SIDE—SIDE VIEW. I Sr« “;i.s bllOWINO SETTING OF POST, on each side as near to it as practicable, mil the loosened earth thrown up into a i.i bank. A second plowing and a s- ci mil shoveling will complete the ditch es ami bank. The wires are then placed on ihe pouts and the fence is completed. If the ground on each side is heavy turf tin bank may be more narrow and steep than one made wholly of loose earth, which however will in time become well h«Mwl. Two men with a two horse team will plow the farrows and make the hank thirty rods long, more or less, in a day, while the reduced amount of^ wire required and the shorter posts which may I e us» ; d will render this fence'as cheap as the oue with five or six wires on level ground. The posts may be at least «®e rod apart, if intermediate vertical cross pieces with the lower ends nearly reachin 0 the ground are used, to which the wires are stapled to keep them in po litico. Fig. 2 represents the appearance t»f such a fence, and Fig. 3 ia a cross sec tion the horizontal dotted line being the inrfaoo of the gronud. Neither or these femes will produce heavy drifts, the winds passing through them sufficiently freely to prevent the accumulation. Did board fences that have become *' ak by age and in danger of being broken down by unruly horses may, says r3t| Bui I Anil nil possess (where’er they m*y live) For their own use * kind deftly made. With the glaaaw all darkened, lu aide half the view. So tbrir own faults remain In the shade. B»ttfae ones which they use \* hen at othete they glnDce ' Bare the glasses transparently clear. With a power to mar nify things twice the size That the same tlirqugb the dark ones appear. Now I think that thb world would much hap- pier be If the specks, once for all, we would change. And within our owu rooms use the spectacles clear. With the dark for the much broader range. Then, tho faults that appear to us Jaggedly rough. Would melt into outlines so fair - We would And that the world was a beautiful place. And good people lived everywhere. —Bertha Packard Englet In Good Housekeep ing. —Life. He Ashed One Question Too Many, An old man was on the witness stand, and was being cross examined by the law yer. •You-say yon are a doctor, sir?” ‘Yes, sir; yes, sic.” ‘What kind of a doctor?” T make intments, sir. I make tnt- ments.” 1‘What’s your ointment good for?” “It’s good to rub on the head to strength en the mind.” 'What effect would it have if yon were to rub some of it on my head.*” “None at all, sir; none at all. We mnst have something to start with.”—Gaiusville Eagle. His Idea of K'<joy menu Thiggs—If you had about <7,000,000 what would you do with it? Fistles—I should build the finest, hand somest, best furnished, most elegant, mag nificent and yet homelike residence in Chicago. “Then what?” “Then I'd—I’d travel.’’—Chicago Trib une. Not Deep Enough for Him. “Grasper is undoubtedly the wprst speci men of meanness 1 ever saw.” “What has he done now?” “I congratulated him yesterday on the beauty of the girl he is to marry, and the skinflint replied, ‘Beauty is only skin deep.’ ’’—Cape Coil Item. Comes Over Occasionally. Stranger (on' European railway)—Elver been in America? Fellow Passenger (stiffly)—I visit the country sometimes on business, sir. Iam the editor of a New York daily paper.— Chicago Tribune. TT— -33Z TH J3l —nZ TC 0Lr> BOARD FENCE STRENGTHENED WITH WIRE. fbnnirv Gentleman—authority for the foregoing—be rendered impassable by foi- partial barbed wire aid of a single one ®Mehed on the top, as shown in Fig. 4. sr.canimals have no disposition to rub •ifniuat a fence of this kind or to press it, * U <1 it remains safe and untouched^ An Original. A child was asked what dust was, and she said, “Dust is mud with the juice squeezed oat.” * The same child said that “anow was pop ped rain."—Harper’s Bazar. An Uphill Drive. “How do you hold on when yon drive up that steep bill?” asks her mother. “Hold on to Mr. Daring,” she replied without flinching.—Rider and Driver. Horses In the United States. The census bulletin places the number “ horses in the United States in 1890 at B hTO.Oi;. The states of Illinois, Iowa ^ Texas report over 1,000.000 each- Mi> --- - -- *»*ouri and Kansas report 900,000 each, he increase of horses from 1880 to 1890 *U# per cent, as against 44.69 per tVnt - between 1870 and 1880 and 14.34 ce nt. between 1800 anil 1970. The Vi 1 ** 81 ’ Of mules from I860 to 1890 was W per cent.; between. 1870 h4.1880 i increase was 61.08 per cent., while 1860 to 1870 there was a decrease of V* P“r cent. Of the aggregate nmn ber * horses and mules in the whole country •BJnne 1, 1890, &0.90 per cent, were Life Settled. A colored philosopher is reported to have said, “Life, my breddern, am mos’ly made up of prayin for Tain and then wiabin * would cl’ar off.”—Presbyterian. A Brave Child. “Come, darling, you have eaten enough of that cake.” . : a •••" “Oh, mamma, I haven’t dot thetummlck ache yeti”—Revue Roisin. Every Man Will Say So. Mrs. S.—They say a man never marries his first love.MyK I ,, . Her Hubby—He can’t. It would be polygamy.—Funny Folks. hursea end 13.0St yr cent, were mules. Mixfil -red oil, Upside Down. The acrobat’s lot Is an unfortunate one, for no matter how much he makes he if continually subject to reverses.—.Balti more American. THE MENDED VASE. 8PECTACLES. A HEROIC TENDERFOOT. on, How Short It Ia. Nothing so vividly reminds us of the brevity of life as a thirty day note.—Texas Siftings. Gum and Mul'cin nra&wlirt* all colors, ophite post office. troubles '" aY Pal- groat remedy forcenghs v nnn nature’s colds, croup, throat and lung Ned Herries, or, as his card read. “Edward T. Herries, C. E.,” stood in the doorway of the Rough Diamond aud looked gloomily forth at the rain as it fell aslant the cactus growth and chapparal on the red soil of the mesa. From the saloon within came the rat tle of dice, the chink of glass, the rattle of coin and the murmur of deep, hoarse male voices. The Rough Diamond was a most lncrative and flourishing institu tion in the little railroad town of Pic ture Canyon, on the line of the Union Pacific. |lt was one of those places which, at that time, sprang up in a night and are deserted in a day along the line of the great road. Indeed, they followed the track, and wherever track laying ended temporarily there a town was certain to spring np almost as if by- magic. There were thousandB of laborers, rail road men, engineers and speculators. With them came peddlers, storekeepers, and last, but not least, the great army of gamblers and saloon keepers. Some of these towns were located in advan tageous situations, and finally took on a solid growth and prospered. Others, having'nothing to justify their existence save the presence of the army of railroad employees, vanished utterly when that army advanced farther and farther on its mission of conquering space and time and binding east and west together with bands of steel. Herries was attached to the engineer corps of the road, and had been for some time stationed at Picture Canyon, a city of some 5,000 inhabitants, mostly males, and which was nearly a month old, tv antique indeed that an election for mayor and common council was being agitated by the more enterprising mem bers of the community. Harvard bred, delicately nurtured, ac customed to all the refinements of life which wealth guided by correct ta«te may give in an old and settled com munity, the rude surroundings of bis present life had at first disheartened Herries, bnt being at bottom a man of good sense and plnck and possessing a splendid constitution, a magnificent bi ceps, standi ug six i'eet and over in his boots, the man who had been Yale’s es special terror as “right tackle,” and who had filled the seat in the 'Varsity eight with more than credit when the blue crossed the line ahead of the criumon on Lake Qniusigamond, would hardly flinch at hardships which other men hove without complaint, even if at times hi soul grew weary of oatlis and liquor, maddened men and brawls and bacon and muddy coffee and hardtack. In deed he grew at last to like the wil freedom of his life, as all men will do in time, and he was fast taking on the ex terior of a genuine frontiersman when When he met Chiquita! Chiqnita was a sprite. She was the true daughter of rocky canyon and des ert mesa—a genuine child of the Sierras —and a woman withal. Her reputed father was an evil eyed old Mexican named Ramon, ostensibly a herder of other men’s sheep, really gatherer of other men’s coins. Chiqnita kept house for him in a turn bled together “shack” on the outskirts of the town, and here entertained her father’s guests. Poor little Chiquita! She was brilliantly pretty, with the rich rose red flushing her olive cheeks, her white teeth flashing between ripe, dewy, crimson lips, with glorious brown eyes under heavy arching brows, and shaded by such long curling lashi as would make one’s heart ache, espc dally the heart of a froutiersman, in whose life female beauty is a rich and rare event. Many a dollar had Chiqnita’s eyes and lips brought to old Rainon’s sheepskin pouch—and gold. It was of this Herries was thinking, for he knew Chiquita, and it was this which, thinking of it, drove him out of the warm and cozy barroom (the only place where he could possibly stay, save in ms corn ana cheerless tent), and forced him to cool his heated "brow in the cool, wet wind which blew from the month of Picture Canyon. He was roused by a voice, a deep, slow, plainsman’s voice, addressing him: “Pardner, you are a good one for a tenderfoot, leastways I’ve sorter tackled to yon sence I seen the way yotF whup- ped that ’ere cowboy champ and belted him with hi 3 own gap. Some tender foots ain’t got no sand, bnt von Have, en I’ll not see yon double teamed on ef i kin help it, Bho’s I’m fnm Texas—which I’m known as Black Waxy Jim.” “Why, what’s the matter?’ broke in' Herries on Black Waxy’s harangue, as he turned and regarded closely the tall, athletic figure of the man beside him. The Texan jerked his tharnb over his shoulder in the direction of the barroom. “In thar,” he Baid in a low tone, “I heem somethin—about—about yon—en —en” “Chiquita?*’ “Thet’s it, pard. You’ve called the deal. It’s jest abont that ’ere litti. greaser gal, en yon ain’t the fust nor yov. won’t be the larst, I reckon, thet’s got his hide bored ’long o’ her.” “What’s up, then?” .vKeep your eye skinned and don’t go nigh old Ramon’s shack. I’ve warned you. So long, pard.” And Black Waxy, lounged away into the gathering gloom and mist. “Hold on,” cried Herries, rushing after him; “tell me at least who my enemy is." Black Waxy turned and scanned the young engineer closely in the twilight. “Pete—from Denver!”,he jerked ont and strode rapidly off. Herries was a brave man. bnt his blood chilled at the mention of that name. It was the synonym of ail that was most fierce, bloodthirsty and wicked even in tnat wicked and bloodthirsty little com munity. Denver Pete!” he mused.. “So he is going to do me up because I’m trying to win that poor child from her horrible life and save her for something better. I fear me, Edward* you’re iu no end of a bad scrape.” Bat the blood which had rushed so hotly through his veius when Yale’s shonts rang triumphant over the foot ball field as the goal was almost won, and which nerved him to dare any odds, take any risk, so long as he could save that game, now flowed again warmh through his heart. I’ll not be bullied,” he said, and be frowned and shat close his month and clinched his hands. These were ominous signs in Mr. Herries. and even Denver Pete, redoubtable knight of the green cloth as he was. would have done well to have heeded them; had he known young Hernes better he might have done so. For Herries had stalked back to the brilliantly lighted barroom and bad called for a glass of ..whisky, the while be regarded a knot of men near by who were conversing in a low tone. Among these men was the gambler against whom Herries had been warned—a handsome, pale faced, tall, slender man, dressed with great, neatness in black aud with out a single ornament visable—not even the belt which nearly every man wore. He had a smalt, keen, hungry looking, gray eve, and as he looked at Herries he met the latter’s gloomy glance, smiled and turned to his friends with the re mark: The kid seems worried about some thing. I wonder if by any chance he has overheard us?” Guess not—be jest come in a minute ago.” “Perhaps—perhaps.” muttered Pete, but we will soon know.” Events moved quickly in frontier towns. As Herries finished his whisky and banged the door behind him, Pete arose from hie seat. His friends also sprang np, but he made a gesture of dissent. No, boys. Leave this to me. If 1 can’t deal with one tenderfoot I certain ly won’t call in aid." But he might get the drap on ye,” persisted one. Pete shrugged bis shoulders and deigned no reply. He walked to the bar, called for and swallowed a large glassful of brandy, which draft did not evei bring a flash to his pale cheek, opened the door and -was lost in the darkness of the night Louis, and left there four years later cultured and magnificently beautiful woman. She will be pleased to receive any of Mr. Herries’ friends at her lovely home in the Back bay district in Boston, ami if yon succeed in pleasing her she will,, tell yon of that awfnl uigbt at Picture Canyon when a “tenderfoot” from Bos ton showed how “tenderfeet” can fight There are few who have not heard or when a sweetheart is at stake. read of the great French revolution of And old Ramou? the last century, when cruel men seized When they looked for him he was on the government of France, when gone. Nor was he or Edward Herries human life was of no account, and when, SAVED FROM THE G01L0TINE! To Be Nearly Starved to Death. ever seen again in Picture Canyon.—At lanta Constitution. Not one watchmaker in a hundred can fit a mainspring properly, and not one in fifty knows a correct one when he sees it. His Fisting Card. Mrs. D’Avnoo-^-Here is a card jnst sent np. Mr. D’Avnoo (looking at the card)— ns if wearjed with its wickedness, God seemed to have hid his face from the sin ful land. N“ one may count np the tears that were shed, the moans that were made,, the hearts that Were broken in those dreadful times; bnt here and there out of the great mass of lmman misery his tory has preserved a record of the trials and sufferings of some hapless ones, read ing which we shudder and thank God that we live in happier days. Some few years after the Reign of “Col. George- Washington Lee.” I Have ’ Terror—as this outburst of sin and mad- not had the honor of meeting Colonel Lee, but be must be a gentleman of some im portance. Have him Bhown np. Eastern Stranger—I’se glad yon did’nt keep me waitin, sah, ’cause I’s got-ter hustle ef I call at all tie places de employ ment agent gub me. I’m lookin fo’ a sity- ation as coachman, sah. Mr. D’Avnoo—Eh? Your card said Col. George Washington Lee. Stranger—Not kernel, sah. C-o-1. stands fo’ cullud, sah.—Good News. The Mean Old Thing. Abont two hours later the inmates of the Rough Diamond were startled by hearing shots, cries, oaths, the heavy thundering of a horse’s hoofs on tb rocky soil of the mesa, and then a long loud “hurra-a-h.” - , Then all was silent. As one man they sprang to their feet and rushed for the door, bnt ere the fore most man among them could.reach it it was burst violently open and old Ramou rushed in. followed by Pete, from Den ver, who. swaying aud staggering like a irunken man. called fur brandy, and then came to the floor with a crash that shook the windows. A babel of voices prevented an expla nation for a long time, and when Peter had somewhat revived he told them what had happened. “Where’s Chiqnita?? some oue asked. A spasm of wrath convulsed the fea tures of the dying man. “Gone," he gasped; “gone with that cursed tenderfoot.” “How did it all happen, Pete?" “He was there when I got there. Chiqnita was all dressed aud ready to go off with him—womanlike, curse her! He saw me coming. His horse was there. He waited for me. Oh, the fel low was game enough. I said nothing, but opened on him. The girl being there most have m*ade me nervous, for missed my man for the first time.” “And then?” “Why, he pumped me full of lead be fore 1 could pull trigger. Hit me five times. Then he mounted and swung the girl np in front of him. Old Ramon came up and opened on him. I got up and followed suit. He got back at ns once—his last cartridge—and canght Husband (kindly)—My dear, yon have nothing decent to wear, have you? Wife (with alacrity)—No, inde-d, I have not; not a thing. I’d be ashamed to be seen anywhere. My evening dress has been worn three times already. Husband—Yes; that’s just what I told Bifkins when he offered tne two tickets for the theater for tonight. I knew if I took them they’a only l>e wasted, so I just got one. You won’t mind if I hurry off.—Loa- dou Thoughts. He Went West. It was about 9 o’clock in the evening that be suddenly rose up off a box in front of a store on Chambers street and accosted Me with: “Say, do yon live here?” “Yes.” “Regular New Yorker?” “Yes.” “Prond of the. town, of course, and wouldn’t live anywhere else for a million dollars a year?” “Well?” “Well, she’s a bn9ter Lots o’ things to be stuck over. Don’t wonder you go around patting yourself on the back. Suyl I don’t live here.” No?” Live way ont west in a town of 2,000 in habitants. Justgo-ag hometouiglit. Sorry to go. bnt 1 got to. Say!” Yes.” I want to take away with me a pleas ant impression of your great and noble city. Want that impression to last me clear home, and when 1 get there I want to go down to the grocery and say to the boys: ‘Boys, it hain’t no use talking. She beats all creation, and them New Yorkers is the all-firedest richest, smartest and big heartest people in nil this world.’ ” I see, bnt where do I come in?” Right here. Yon band me a dime; dime produces pleasant impression; pleasant im pression makes me a friend of New York. Present impression fluctuates and wobbles —mebbe I like New York, mebbe I don’t. See? Better fix me.’’ I hastened to fix him, and after assuring himself of the value of the coin be lifed his hat, bowed gracefully and said: “Impression is now all right, and is go ing to be righter in about live minutes. Westward ho! is my watchword. Fare well!”—Chicago Tribane. Working a Claim. “Yes, darling,” she said softly, “I want so mneb for yon to see me in my new seal skin cloak.” “That will be a great pleasure,” he mut tered. “Tell me, dear, was it made to or der?” “Of course," she replied. “Why do yon ask?" ness was well named—a man of middle age entered a small inn in Germany and called for refreshments. His manners were timid and shrinking, and he looked as if he might just Lava recovered from some terrible illness—he was so strange ly, ghastly pale. The landlord supplied his wants, and, half -:urionsr, half iu kindness, be made some remark os to the stranger's appear: ance, coupling it with tite question, “Did he want anght else for his com fort?" “Nay, nothing," said the pale man hastily; “I have food and light and air, what could I want more?" aud he sighed deeply. “My friend,” said the landlord, seat ing himself, “you speak as if yon had known the want of these things. Have I guessed aright?" His gnest looked np. i “Would yon hear my tale?" he asked. “For years I have kept silence, but to day it seems as if it would lighten my heart to speak. Listen and beieve it if yon can. Less than seven years ago 1 was a gay, light hearted youth in this our quiet fatherland. Having nonear relations, I was led to visit some distant ones who had lived for many years in u small town in France. My uncle, os I called him ont of friendliness, was a kind, good fellow; well known and respected in the plane, where he carried on the craft of a watch maker, and he proposed that I should become his apprentice and partner. 1 liked the little town, I liked my nncle, I liked my mint, and I soon gave my consent. They had no children—I thank God for that now—but my aunt’s kindly sonl coaid not be content without young peoplo around her, so she kept and clothed two lionse maidens, children of some poor neighbors. Trim and neat they looked, too, wearing the costume of that part of Germany from whence my aunt came, a pretty fancy of her own; it seemed quaint enough in a strange land. “It was a happy household. No won der I was glad to belong to it; but, alas! It was soon to be swept away by terrible affliction. For some time we had heaid of strange troubles going on in Paris and the large towns, bnt our little place was still quiet. One morning, however, we woke to find everything in confusion. Our mayor had been ordered to resign, aud his place was to be filled by some one sent from Paris: “Still, we never dreamed of what fear ful misery this was the forerunner. We had no time to dream, either, the blow fell so suddenly. There had been a stir going on in tbe marketplace for the two days following the arrival of the new official; bnt ray uncle and I were busy over a discovery which he had made in our trade, and we were less than usual in the streets. “At noon, on the third day, however, he went out for a stroll to rest his eyes and look.about him for a few moments. My aunt and her maidens arranged as usual the midday meal, and we were all ready to sit down, only my nncle was missing. He was usually so punctual that we wondered and waited, and at last we dined without him. At the dose of the meal I stepped out to look for him. “I had not got a dozen yards from our house when I met our baker’s wife, her eyes staring ont of her head. “‘Go back,’ she said, ‘go backt It is too late. The monster—the wretchl He has executed the honest man, without even the farce of a trial, on the accursed guillotine yonder!’ “I was petrified with horror. Could she bo speaking of my nncle, so respected, so quiet as he was? It was too true. The wretch in office had lost no time, but had begun his work of bloodshed at once, and my nncle was his first victim, his only crimq being that he was of foreign birth, and had sheltered under his roof, some months since, a poor Swiss. I retraced known to be occupied. There I Was thrust into a deep dimgeon, and left in total darkness till the morning, when I doubted not I should be conducted to the same cruel fate as my poor relutives had met. Bnt morning came, as I had guessed by the sound without, and still no summons. Woru ont withspense and waiting. I fell asleep. ten I awoke hunger and thirst oppress) d me. Happily I had stored some breid and meat and a small bottle of wine in oue of the pockets of my coat preparatory to my intended flight Of this I now ate and drank. No one came nigh me, and yet I could hear sounds as if wretched prisoners were being led forth out ot neighboring cells, doubtless to death; for they wept and pleaded vainly as it seemed to me. “Bnt the third day a grearstillness full on the prison. I could not understand it; my senses were enfeebled for want of food, "for my small stock Tywl long been exhausted and I almost lacked strength to wonder why I was left to live so long. Presently arose an awful terror, lest this should be ray sentence, to perish miserably for want of food in this damp dungeon. Death on the scaf fold appeared 1 light by comparison. I clamored at my prison door. I shouted as loudly as I could—all to no purpose. Then I burst into an agony of tears; my fate was too dreadful to bear. With the soft nature of my youth I pitied aud be moaned myself sorely. All at once words came into my mind that I had learned years ago as a text in the school, •Fear'thou not, fori am with thee: be not dismayed, for I am thy God.’ “They came like a ray of light into my prison, and I clung to the promise as if it had that moment been made to me by a pitying God. I felt soothed and hopeful, and in this condition I sank back in a doze or swoon. “How time passed I could not tpll: day and night to mo were alike in my cell. I woke np to find light and warmth and kindly- faefca about the. Slowly 1 regained consciousness enough to under stand what they told me. I had lain five days forgotten, the stillness I had noted the third day was accounted for by the fact that the news had just reached onr town of the death of one of tbe greatest leaders of the revolution, and the consequent decline of the party. In fear of his life, onr terrorist mayor bad fled, and the old. mayor, resuming power, had ordered the prison doors to be set open. I, in my solitary cell, had been forgotten, and but that some one had been sent to examine all the cells and collect the fetters used therein, I might have perished most miserably. As it was, I was carried out perfectly senseless and brought to life with some difficulty. “I am safe now, as you see, comrades, in my own country, but the anguish of those few days will never be forgotten. I bear abont with me in my face tbe re membrance of it. Daily 1 thank God for light and air and food, aud yet these good gifts of his fail to make my heart rejoice. Still those dreadful days iu the dungeon have given me a firm reliance on his mercy, aud 1 know that I shall one day he joyful again in the city of which the gates are never shat and where there is no darkness.”—New York Advertiser. That Was All. Smith—I say, Smytlie! Smythe (who is running at the top of his ■peed, stops)—Weil, what is it? Hurry up (puff, puff), please. I have only two min utes to— Smith—I merely wanted- to say that you’d lose your train if you didn’t hurry up.—Yankee Blade. “Because," he answered (shyly toying , .. . with one of her twenty-five cent curls), “I my steps to the house. My aunt s anxious face met my troubled gaze. She had begun to suspect evil. The two girls wajted fearfully in the background. I thought, perhaps, there might be enough left over to make me a cap.”—Cloak Re view. Wanted a Head Put on Him. An old man with a head as destitute of hair as a watermelon, entered a Manhattan avenue drug store and told tbe clerk he wanted a bottle of hair restorer. “What kind of hair restorer do you pre fer?” “I reckon I’ll have to take a bottle of red hair restorer. That was the color it used to be when I was a boy.”—Texas Siftings. Harmony Drove Dots. Ramon, for I heard him groan. Then till he was athirst for more the tenderfoot yelled and rode off. Boys, give me a big drink. Frn done for.” And when they brought the drink a fast chilling corpse was all that was left of Pete from Denver to drink it. And Chiqnita? Chiquita went to a convent in St. Harmony Gkovr. Dec. 8 —[Special ] —Mr. P"*k Thompson, one of Bank’s higgler farmers, t-assed through the Grove yesterday en route for Athens. Messrs. Cicero S’«rk and Beer Pow ers, tv o of i nr most progressive and pro-’pereris m rchsnts. made a flying- vLit c<> Ath.-n- ytsterday Pr .f C A Meeks, one of Banks eouotv’s meat, prominent pedagogues, is in tow;: today Prof Meeks wears a j broad smile on his face, and is receiv- ' ing the coegratulatiops of his many friends. Cause: a big-baby at his lieme Dr. Jesse C. Bennett, a prosperous v< ui-g prsc'tioner of Jeflprson, Ga,, is iuiown today circulating among his no a ts of friends. The ever happv and cheerful Charlie Co-p r, of Athens, is in the Grove. pu "ucn.eiil.h.nsotvr^n; ti’e trot- YuYihY ting stock. Charlie is a brick. tried to speak, but 1 turned away and burst into tears. I was yonng then. Master Landlord, and had tears to shed. My aunt passed me by and rushed into the street, straight to the market place. I could not follow. What happened there was told me later. “Wild with agony at her husband’s fate, my gentle, loving, aunt had burst into a flood of reproach of his ninrder. In these days this was crime enough for 'the heaviest punishment, and before evenmg she had fared the same fate as my uncle. “The Reign of Terror had indeed begun with us. The girls had fled, terrified at the fate which had befallen their pro tectors, and I was meditating in a half stupefied way the same measure, when a knock < ame at the door, and two men, who had bften eaten and drunk at my uncle’s table, came in and made me a prisoner, confiscating all the possessions of the family to the state. “In those days a mam’s foes were often they of his own household. I offered no resistance; the shock of the day had completely unmanned me. I made cer tain that I, too, should die that night. Bnt my time was not yet come. “In consequence of the lateness of the hour I was taken to the town prison, a which I had never Delicate Flattery. “What ever made you make Brackins a present of a pocket comb? He’s as bald as a billiard ball.” “That’s just it; I want to make him think I’never noticed it.”—Washington Star. Very Little Does It. Harry—Stunning girl just passed, eh, old boy? Did you see her look back at me? - Fred—Yes; they say it don’t take much to turn a woman’s head.—Fun. The Difference Defined. The difference between an editor and his wife is that his wife sets things to rights while he writes things to set.—Yonkers Statesman. Only One Thing to Do. There seems to be no course open to Washington Chinamen except to drop "fan tan” and learn to play poker.—Washing ton Star. . - Remember This. Every man who does not labor and lay up a fortune may cause absolute suffering to his daughter’s future husband.—Elmira Gazette. ' ' . i i An Appropriate Head. '— “The light that failed” is the title of the only match a man had that went ont be fore be could light the gas.—Lowell Cou rier. -. - v Girls® WINTBRVILLE ITEMS. What la Going on in Our Neighboring Town. WiNTKBViLLK, Ga., Dec 8.—[Spe cial.]—Hard times. The cold wave struck this place last night. Dr. G B. At.kis-on has dismissed his school until after Xmas. The ginnere of this place have about stopped on account of the scarcity of cotton. • Messrs. I. H. and J. I. Pittard have bought up to this date 1,90) bales of cotton, not half as much as last fall. Mr. Walter Chandler was in our town if ■•■. Thursday night attending the mar riage of Mr. and Mrs. H E. England. Rsv. Mr Stone preached a very fine sermon last Sunday at the Methodist church. Mrs- H. O. Johnson has returned home from a visit to her father in Mon roe If you see a man with a long face and his lower lip hanging down on his chin and you ask him what, is the mat ter, hewiil say: ‘'cotton isG 1-2, I esu not ge’ money at that; how am I to get credit another year?”