Newspaper Page Text
W. F. SMITH, Publisher.
VOLUME X.
I 111. MTTLE KI>GS AND QUEENS,
Monarch* who*® kingdom no man bounda.
No ioagues uphold, no conquest spread*,
hose thrones are any mossy mounds.
Whose crowns are curls on sunny heads 1
The only sovereigns on the earth
Wh .se sway is certain to endure*
>o line of Kings of kingliest birth
Jb of itH reigning half no sure.
No fortress built in all the land
Ho stroug they cannot storm It freei
-V> palace mode too rich, too grand,
i or them to roam triumphantly.
No^ tyrant so hard-hearted known
1 :n ‘ their diplomacy resist;
They can usurp his very throne
lie abdicates when he in kissed.
No hovel in the world so small,
Ho meanly built, so squalid, bare.
They will not go within its wall.
And set their reign of splendor there.
No beggar too forlorn and poor
To give them all they need to thrive*
They frolic in his yard and door,
i he happiest Kings and Queens alive.
Oli, b'cg cd little Kings and Queens,
The only sovereigns in the earth!
t heir sovereignty nor rests nor loan*
On pomp of riches or of birth,
Nor ends when cruel death lays low
■'i dust each little curly head.
All other sovereigns crownless go,
And are forgotten, when they’re dead.
Jlut these hold changeless empire past,
1 riunipliunt past, all earthly scenes;
Wo worship, truest to the last,
I lie burled “ little Kings and Queens.”
- Harper ’ Magazine.
A Clever Doctor.
About twenty years ago the Hon. and
li v. Edward Lambert, a clergyman of
1ln“ Church of England, found that his
h'*alt!i was growing infirm, a mental and
physical languor seeming to take posses
sion of him ; that English melancholy
which comes, no one knows why or
wherefore, and ho could not shake it off.
Lamp;, rich, handsome, eloquent, sure
ot preferment in the church—wliat was
the matter with the Hon. and Rev. Ed
vard Lambert?
lie did what all Englishmen do when
el her remedies fail — he crossed the chan
nel.
Ihi thought he could seek the rays of
the sun, that luminary so scarce in En
gland. Perhaps it was that lie needed.
So cue lino day he sailed for France,
ami found himself at Rouen, where he
stayed for some days, taking every
morning a walk around the cathedral,
carrying a volume of Dante under his
arm.
One afternoon he walked up the Mont
St. Catherine, and, seating himself on
the grass, gravely devoted himself to the
divine comedy. He had scarcely lost
himself in Dante’s stately measure,
when a stranger approached and with
the most perfect courtesy addressed
him, asking if lie were an Englishman,
and, if so, if ho would permit a few min
utes’ conversation.
“I wish to perfect myself in your lan
guage,” said the stranger,smiling, “and
1 always seize every opportunity to
talk tv> an Englishman.”
“ You already speak the language
fluently,” said Mr. Lambert, politely ;
“ sit down, Monsieur.”
Resting on the turf, with a glorious
view before them, the two young men
soon found themselves talking glibly of
the news of the day, of Dante, of re
ligion, polities and the weather. The
Frenchman was very agreeable, "well
vdueated, up to the times on all points ;
fie immediately told Mr. Lambert that
he was a doctor ar.d practicing his pro
fession at Rouen.
It was natural that the young clergy
man should speak to him of his own
case, which he did freely, asking the
doctor i advice.
The doctor became extremely inter
ested, ami, upon examining Mr. L.un-
I ert's tongue and pulse, gave him a pre
script ion.
They walked together to Rouen, and
Mr. Lambert then noticed that the doc
tor had a beautiful white dog, a pointer,
which gamboled around his master’s
heels. *
The y separated as they reached the
city, the doctor to go and see his pa
tients, the clergyman to seek an apoth
ecary, where he got his prescription pre
pared.
The next morning the Honorable and
Reverend Mr. Lambert was better. The
looter’s prescription had made him
It had given him strength, he
an appetite for breakfast Months
of treatment in .London at the hands of
the best physicians bed not done this
for him.
lie wished to thank and remunerate
the doctor, when he remembered that lie
did not know his name. Instinct told
him, however, that he might meet him
again on the Mont St. Catherine. So
with renewed hope, health, energy lie
walked again to the top of the hill. In
fo e minutes he was joined by the French
doctor and his dog, who came bound
ing along with his pointer nose in the
grass.
The two men greeted each other with
smiles, and shook hands cordially.
“You have saved my life, doctor,”
p aid Mr. Lambert, with unusual enthu
- asm. “ Not at all, my dear friend,”
said the doctor; “ I only gave you a
p'od tonic, which also made you sleep.
1 found out (what none of my English
1 rot hers in medicine seem to have found
l,; d) that you have nothing the matter
with you! Your system needs a little
jogging, that is all Railroad travel, my
dc:>r friend, will soon set you up. Now,
1 dare say, you have been leading a very
•ay and sedentary life : now, haven’t
you?” J
‘‘it is true, I have.”
rake my advice, travel, ride day and
n ’ght; hike no medicine, excepting
th. so sirups, which I will give you;
seek adventure, lead a more varied ex
istence, and, my friend—you are ali
right 1” J
fffffffff
Now came the delicate question of
money, and the Englishman felt for the
proverbial guinea.
He tendered it to the French doctor,
who laughingly pushed it away, with a
very soft, well-formed, white hand.
“Nevei—never,” said he; “for so
•Tight a service, permit me to make my
advice a return for ‘ a lesson in English
conversation !’ ”
It was gracefully done, and the em
barrassed Englishman put his gold bad;
into liis pocket.
“ Doctor,” said he, in a low voice,
hesitatingly, “ I am an Englishman,
and I hate to be under an obligation ;
vou have lifted a load off my heart which
has hung there for six months; you
have made anew man of me. Now allow
me to be of some service to you. I
leave here by rail at 1 o’clock to-morrow
morning for Fans ; until then 1 am at
your service—and forever after. Can I
do anything for you ?”
The doctor reflected a moment, and
looked at his dog.
“ I don’t know, indeed ; and yet I do
happen to think of one thing. You
might save me a journey to Paris, which,
with my engagements, is just now in
convenient. But it is asking too much,
perhaps.”
“What—how—too much?” said the
clergyman.
“ Well, I have a number of sick peo
ple under my charge whom I treat for
disease of the brain. One of these is a
verv rich woman who is slightly de
ranged. I hoped to have cured her.
Unhappily she lias determined to return
to Paris, and I have no authority to de
tain her. I perceive that she will fret
until this caprice is gratified. I must
go with her to place her in charge of her
friends, and I have been putting off
from day to day, because I cannot leave
my other patients, the duty of taking
her home. Now, if you would escort
her it would be a real service,” said the
doctor.
“ My dear sir, a crazy young woman,
at 1 o’clock at night, and Ia clergyman
of the Church of England,” said Mr.
Lambert, forgetting his late gratitude.
‘ ‘ Oh. she is 46, my dear sir, and her
mania is a very quiet one. She looks
and acts like a sheep, poor woman, and
she will scarcely speak to a stranger. I
do not know that she will go with you.
The hour is rather early—l in the morn
ing—but still I might ask her, and it will
be a real favor to me.”
“Bring her along, doctor,” said the
clergyman., ashamed of his reluctance ;
“bring her along—a sheep and forty
six; I will take care of your patient to
Paris 1”
Talking in this way they reached the
gates of the city. Before separating,
the doctor gave his card to Mr. Lambert.
“Au revoir ,” said he, “and perhaps
adieu, mv dear sir. Let me hear from
you from time to time; and I hope, if we
never meet again, that you will retain, as
I shall do, an agreeable recollection of
our acquaintance. I may not see you
again, as my friend may not be willing
to go with you— adieu!"
Mr. Lambert glanced at the doctor’s
card, feeling anew the embarrassment of
the possible night journey with an in
sane woman, aud regretting his promise
in spite of his gratitude.
He read on the card—
“ Dr. de La Belle, Rue Antoine;
No. 11.”
Mr. Lambert walked through the Rue
Antoine and stopped at No. 11. It was
a large, handsome house, with the an
nouncement in black letters on a brass
plate, Doctetir de La Belle.
On arriving at his hotei he asked the
landlord if he knew of Dr. de La Belle.
“I believe, sir,” said the man, civilly,
“that he is the best physician in
Rouen.”
At 1 o’clock in the morning Mr. Lam
bert waited with some anxiety in the
depot the arrival of the train. Dr. de
La Belle had not arrived. The English
clergyman rubbed his hands w T ith great
satisfaction—for he did not care for this
particular responsibility—when some
one touched him lightly on the shoulder.
It was the doctor !
Seated on a bench was a lady in black,
with her veil tightly drawn over her
face.
“ I have taken a coupe,” said the doc
tor, “so you will not be incommoded
by other travelers. Here is mademoi
volL’is pmse, licket and little traveling
sachel; perhaps she will need some
thing. Have the kindness to show the
ticket to the conducter. I have tele
graphed to Paris to her friends, who
will meet her at the station. She is
quiet as a dove. Should you find her
agitated, give her a drop of this essence
on sugar ; here is the bottle. Monsieur
Lambert, mademoiselle ! ”
He then helped along the invalid lady
and put her in the corner of the coupe.
He then, after arranging her with great
kindness, stepped out, held Mr. Lam
bert by the hands and talked withFreuch
effusion, as the officials hustled passen
gers in and out.
“I trust you will have no trouble,
adieu,” said he, giving a final word of
kindness to his fair patient and arrang
ing her footstool.
“Oh, no! I dare say not,” said Mr.
Lambert, bowing to the lady and tuning
his seat by her side. “But what a
powerful odor there is in the coupe—
will it not disturb the ladv ? ”
“ Oh, no ! I think not,” said Dr. de La
Belle ; “ I broke a bottle of cologne, as
I was helping her in. It will all disap
pear in a few moments.”
The train departed; and Mr. Lambert,
who felt exceedingly wide awake, and
who found Dr. de La Belle s cologne
very strong, tried to draw his fair friend
into a conversation. She was separated
from him by a high basket of flowers,
the doctor’s last attention.
The poor insane woman would not
answer a word, and from her immovable
Industrial Inter, st, the Diffusion ol Truth, the Establishment of Justice, aud the Preservation of a People’s Government.
INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA.
calm Mr. Lambert concluded that she
was asleep.
When they arrived at Paris he deter
mined that she should speak.
“ Mademoiselle,” said he, in aloud
voice, “do awake and listen to me ; I
must leave you for a moment to go and
find your fi iends, ”
He sought a long time, but could not
find anybody who wanted a lady from
Rouen.
He came back to the carriage very
discontentedly, when, to his intense
astonishment, he found a crowd around
the compartment where the Jady still
sat. He went forward to see what was
the cause of the excitement.
“Are you the man who traveled from
Rouen in this coupe ?” said a policeman.
“Yes.”
“Do you know that this lady is dead f
You have poisoned her with prussic
acid ! She lias been dead four hours 1 ”
and the populace groaned.
The clergyman was speechless with
horror. He tried to clear himself with
all the earnestness of an innocent man ;
but his story was found a most improba
ble one. The police found on him the
purse of the poor woman, and a bottle
containing prussic acid !
It was the little bottle which Dr. de
La Belle had forced upon him in the
train.
Mr. Lambert, stunned, half dead, al
lowed himself to be carried to prison
without resistance—he was past that. A
day later he said :
“ Take me to Rouen; I will unmask
the villain; he can never face me !”
Two sergeants de ville, with other em
ployes of the police in plain clothes, at
tended this dangerous criminal to Roueu
in the railway, and drove to the house of
Dr. de La Belle. Mr. Lambert w r as sure
that at the sight of his face the assassin
doctor would confess all.
Dr. de La Belle was engaged at the
moment, and kept them some time wait
ing. When at last tho police began to
be troubled, the head sergeant bade them
to becalm. “The house is guarded,”
said he; “he cannot escape.”
Presently there entered a calm, elder
ly gentleman, with spectacles, which he
removed as he looked at them.
“ I bes: your pardon for keeping you
waiting,” said he, “ but did you want
me ? lam Dr. do La Belle.”
Mr. Lambert trembled from head to
foot. An abyss opened before him, of
which he could not see the bottom.
This was not at all the man whom he
had met on Mont St. Catherine.
“ You are not Dr. de La Belle at all!”
said the unhappy man.
“I think that I can prove that I
am,” said the suave old doctor, smiling.
Alas! everything was against him.
The English clergyman had fallen into
the most terrible snare, laid by the most
accomplished villain.
They returned to Paris.
“ I wish I could meet him again with
his white dog, ” said Mr. Lambert, throw
ing his hands in the air.
“ White dog, did you say ?” asked the
sergeant de ville.
Some weeks passed, and the police
became convinced that Mr. Lambert was
innocent, but they were waiting for the
real villain.
Mr. Lambert wes taken, blindfolded
and in the night, to a house, he knew
not in what street, -where he, ho vever,
was well lodged, and w T here he was al
lowed to read and to write, but was
strictly watched. *
Shortly after his.new incarceration a
valet arrived with his clothes, and asked
him respectfully to make his toilette. A
sergeant escorted him to a closed car
nage, and drove toward the Champs
Elysees.
“ Look at every one who passes,”
says he.
Mr. Lambert looked, but saw noth
ing.
The next day the sergeant, elegantly
dressed, came again in an open carriage,
and by the side of the coachman sat a
white point A* dog.
Mr. Lambert turned pale.
“You have seen that dog before?”
said the sergeant.
“ It is his dog,” said Mr. Lambert.
“Keep calm, and look about you,”
said the policeman.
But they looked in vain. They saw
no master for the dog.
“ On the night that crime was commit
ted this clog was found in Rouen, with
out a master,” said the sergeant de ville.
Later, the prisoner was requested to
make an evening toilette, and was es
corted to a grand ball in a magnificent
house in one of the best parts of Paris.
“You are serving the ends of justice,”
i said the sergeant to him. “Be patient
1 and observe the guests. ”
He was presented to the lady of the
house, who received him very gracious
ly, and who introduced him to her
daughter. He talked with her and
looked at the guests, but saw' nothing.
Another week passed. He went to
another ball in the same company. His
j young host, Monsieur de F., seated
himself beside him, and drew
carelessly before them the curtains of a
large window, which filled half the
; room.
It was not long before Mr. Lambert
heard the well-known voice of the ser-
I geant of police (who in the most irre
proachable of black coats ancl white
i ties looked like a Conde or a Mont
morenci) talking to a gentleman near
him, of hunting.
“It is a long time since I have fol
lowed the hounds, ’ answered the gen
tleman.
Mr. Lambert darted from his seat
“Itishe ! ” said he. “It is Dr. de La
Belle.”
! “Be silent,” said Monsieur de F.
“be silent,” and he held him in his seat
bv main force.
‘in a moment they were rejoined by
i the sergeant de ville.
“1 have heard him ! It is his voice !”
said Mr. Lambert, trembling all over.
v‘Perhaps we are still wrong,” said
that imperturbable individual. “Stay
here without moving. I will draw the
curtain. Look at every one who enters
with a lady on his arm. When the sus
pected passes, press my arm without a
word.”
“ Is it Monsieur de Bocage ?” asked the
host in a low voice of the officer. “ Prob
ably,” said the policeman ; “he was the
lover of the unfortunate Blanche Vill
iers. ”
At this moment poor Lambert, peep
ing from behind the curtain, saw the
well-known smiling face and jaunty fig
ure of the doctor of Rouen pass with a
young lady on his arm. He gripped the
arm of the officer.
“It is he,” said he, choking. The
sergeant de ville drew the curtain
quickly. “ The chain is complete,”
said he; “we only wait for the dog.
Mr. Lambert, your imprisonment will
be short. One visit more, and you are
free!”
The next day a close carriage, with
the white pointer tied under the seat,
called for Mr. Lambert.
“I shall conduct you to his door, but
you must enter alone,” said the friendly
sergeant. “You are not afraid?”
“Afraid 1” said the Englishman. “I
only desire to kill him.”
“No, no personal violence, please.
You w 7 ould spoil a very pretty job,” said
the officer. “Coachman, drive to the
house of M. de Bocage, Avenue Jose
phine.”
When Mr. Lambert, pale as death,
rang the bell of the inner door, M. de
Bocage, a Parisian swell, just putting on
his gloves, opened it himself.
He started back, horrified, but soon
composed himself.
“ You wish to see me, sir ?” said he.
“Yes, vou wretched murderer 1” said
the Hon. and Rev. Lambert, “ Ido wish
to see you !”
M. de Bocage retreated several steps.
“You are mad.” said he.
“I have come to unmask you, vil
lain !”
“You are deceived, my brave gentle
man,” said M. de Bocage, and, reach
ing behind him, he caught up a pistol
and discharged it full in the face of the
Englishman.
At the noise and the fall of the clergy
man, who was stunned and blinded fora
moment, the two sergeants and several
policemen entered the room, accompa
, nied by a white pointer, who leaped up
and caressed Monsieur de Bocage.
“ Dowm, Thanor, down!” said the
murderer, forgetting himself.
“The chain is complete,” said the
sergeant joyfully.
“Monsieur de Bocage, alias Dr. deLa
Belle, you stand charged with the mur
der of Mademoiselle Blanche Villiers, in
a coupe of the railway, which left Rouen
at 1 o’clock at night on the 13th inst., a
crime which you sought to affix to this
gentleman. (Throw a pitcher of water
in his face; the pistol ball was drawm
this morning, while Monsieur de Bocage
took his chocolate—he is not hurt.)”
So saying, the sergeant revived the
Englishman, and took Monsieur de Bo
cage from his luxurious chamber toward
twenty years of the galleys.
The wretch looked back.
“It was you, Thanor, after all,” said
he, caressing the wTiite pointer.
“Yes,” said the sergeant, encourag
ingly; “had you but remembered to
give the poor thing a pill of strych
nine ! ”
The Hon. and Rev. Mr. Lambert re
turned home much better. He had cer
tainly taken the advice of this unknown
medical adviser, and had varied his
usual life considerably. He never trav
eled in a coupe at night again with
veiled ladies, nor did he ever get over
the horror of having ridden from Rouen
to Paris with a corpse.
He had the curiosity to take the doc
tor's prescription to an apothecary in
London, who analyzed it.
“ A powerful stimulant, sir,” said he ;
“we should not recommend you to use
it very frequently. Still, in extreme
cases of depression, it might be well.”
Mr. Lambert never lost his admira
tion of the French police. They were,
he thought, a very accomplished set of
actors.
Turks and High Schools.
“Iwasted,” said an old Turk, “ten
years of my life in one of the high
schools. In consequence of this I know
nothing. Had I to the schools of
the Softas I might have become a great
teacher. A high school teaches noth
ing that people want to know. For
instance, they teach botany. They
spend* weeks in explaining to a young
man that a rose is a rose! What earth
ly use is that to any one? If a man
knows a rose ivhen he sees it, he knows
it without having learned it in a book.
If he does not know that it is a rose, no
book will ever make him care to know
what it is. High schools never did good
to any body in this country.” The
Turk was partly right - . As in every
thing else, so in education, the methods
adopted by the Turks are mere apish
imitations of what is found in Europe,
and always remain unmeaning forms
of exercise, a weariness to both teacher
ami scholar. —“ Turkish Life in U r r
r l in: o’ * — Dwight.
—Thirty j'ears ago, a laboring Irish
man at Shandakin, Ulster County, N.
Y., took a latherless nephew into his
family, ted and clothed him and sent
him to the Gilboa Academy to empha
size the country school education he nad
given him. Ihe Gilboa Monitor says
thi£ uncle is now an aged pauper in the
County poorhojse, and that the nephew
he so Veil cared tor is Bonanza Ma rkay.
Boxing a Sewing Machine.
14 Say, my dear,” observed Mr. Spoop
sndyke, straightening up and scratching
his ear, “what did the man say about
boxing up this sewing machine?”
“ Why, he said take the cover off
and—”
“ Ive got"the cover off,” srorted Mr.
Spoopendyke. “Did he say to take it
off twice? Ain’t once binding on this
machine P”
“ Certainly,” replied Mrs. Spoopen
dyke ; “then you take the top off and—”
44 Did that man say anything about
boxing up this machine? That’s what I
asked you,” vociferated Mr. Spoopen
dyke. “I know all about the cover and
top. You can’t teach me anything
about the top and cover. I want some
information about this dod-gasted bird
cage-looking: arrangement! Did he say
whether I was to take that off of any
thing?”
“ The machine goes in that,” flut
tered Mrs. Spoopendyke. “And then
this slat cover nails over it.”
44 Now, that’s the wav I like to hear a
woman talk,” remarked Mr. Spoopen
dyke, betaking himself cheerily to his
work. “If you’d always answer straight
up, we’d have been moved a week ago.”
“ But you must screw the top on the
bottom of the top, and tie the cover un
derneath,” said Mrs. Spoopendyke,
who, having been complimented on a
detail, determined, woman like, to know
all about it.
44 What stable have you been boarding
in now?” roared Mr. Spoopendyke,drop
ping the hammer on his foot. “What
asylum for indigent jackasses did you
get that scriptural quotation from?
How’m I going to screw the measly top
on the dod-gasted bottom of itself?
Where’s the screw that does that? Just
jerk your thumb in the direction of the
interconvertible screw that will screw a
thing on in that way!”
44 Why, you just’turn the top over on
the bottom, the man said, and screw it
to the top; that—”
44 Come over!” yelled Mr. Spoopen
dyke, tugging at the works from which
he had neglected to take the thumb
screw. “Come over the way the man
said for you to! Hear me? Come over!
There can’t any dod-gasted piece of
seventy-dollar ingenuity get the best of
the manufacturer when Spoopendyke’s
within reach! Come over and screw
on the bottom, like the man said! Com
ing over?” and Mr. Spoopendyke’s
hands slipped, landing him on the back
of his neck in the crate his wife had pur
chased to box the machine in.
“Never mind, dear,” said Mrs. Spoop
endyke, trembling with apprehension
for the safety of the machine. “Let the
man come and do it himself, if he knows
so much about—!”
44 Dod-gast the man!” howled Mr.
Spoopendyke, springing to his feet and
moving on the works once more.
44 Think he can break this measly old
cast-iron imitation of an inebriate home
any quicker’n I can?” and he grasped
the top of the instrument and hauled
away till his eyes hung out. 44 Come
over to the dulcet bottom and be screwed
on. Oh, come where the glory of being
screwed to the bottom of the top awaits
thee. Come over and see this miracle
of plastering the top and bottom of the
same thing together as perlormed by
Spoopendyke, the apostle of impossibil
ities! Come to the dod—!” But here
the thumb-screw broke, driving Mr.
Spoopendyke into the closet like a spike,
where he sat beholding the mutilated top
in his arms and looking dazed.
44 Are you hurt, dear?” asked Mrs.
Spoopendyke, rushing toward him.
“Hurt!” shrieked Mr. Spoopendyke.
“Am I hurt! D’ye see that thumb
joint hanging to that measly screw?
Wow-w-w! ” squealed Mr. Spoopendyke,
dancing to his feet, and dashing the
machinery into the crate. “Get in
thfere, quick!” and he tumbled the rest
of the business in after, where it struck
corner-wise in spite of his effort to drive
it in with his leg. “Is this what the
man said?” and he jumped at it with
both feet. “Bottom appear to be com
ing any nearer to the top from where
you stand?” and he whirled the crate
around and then kickedmt the corner of
the machine. “Does that screw strike
you as beginning to take hold? Got a
notion that this machinery can be
moved from here to Hackensack without
scratching any paint off the farmhouses
along the road?” and concentrating
himself in one last effort, Mr. Spoop
endyke turned the crate over on the
machine and breathed hard.
“You’ve done that splendidly,” cooed
Mrs. Spoopendyke, anxious to restore
peace between Mr. Spoopendyke and
the wreck of her sewing-machine. “It
isn’t exactly the way the man said, but
I know—”
“Oh, you know all about it!” howled
Mr. Spoopendyke. “If I could build a
front door and a veranda to your in
formation, I’d stand you in a tub of
salt water and start a summer resort!
Oh, you’re posted on what to do! You
understand mechanics! Some day I’ll
fit you out with a price-list and a strike,
and start a- rolling-mill!” and Mr.
Spoopendyke went for his hat and tore
out of the room.
“It’s pretty well scratched, but other
wise it is all right,” commented Mrs.
Spoopendyke, examining the wreck.
“And I’ll get the man to box it.”—
Brooklyn Eagle.
—The latest society edict from Boston
Is that soup should be eaten with a
large spoon. Thus does the culehaw
of Boston affirm what we would fain
have impressed upon vulgar Chicago;
that eating soup with a sponge and ice
cream with the sugar tongs is very ill
bred—very.—Chicago Herald.
SUBSCRIPTION"SI.SO.
NUMBER 1.
PITH AND POINT.
—Almost anybody can run into debt;
but nearly everybody has to crawl out
of it.
—A man who insists on the right to
hold his own opinion is always wanting
to give it way, even when it is not asked
for.
—A young man who had married a
bad tempered woman was one day pro
voked to correct her. The lady com
plained to her father who, knowing her
character, followed the example of her
husband, and, boxing her ears, said :
“There, now; go and tell the fellow
that I am even with him, he has beaten
my daughter and I have boxed his wife’s
ears.”— Chicago Tribune.
—Two juvenile lemonade merchants
were fiercely competing for the patron
age of their playmates, when one of
them, destined to be a futuro Vander
bilt, squelched his rival and controlled
the market by spreading the report that
“the reason that Jimmy Bangs gave
more sugar in a one-cent glass was be
cause there was a dead rat in his pump.”
—Boston Commercial Bulletin.
—The New York Ledger asks: “Isa
man to be deemed insane because he
kisses the girl to whom he is engaged in
an enthusiastic and boisterous mam ?”
We should say no, emphatically. The
fact that he is engaged to a gi-1 in an
enthusiastic and boisterous manner
should not deprive him of the right to
kiss her, any more than if he had en
gaged himself to her in a quiet and or
derly manner.— Norristown ll*. raid.
—They were raised here in Austin,
but she did not know much about gar
dening; at the same time, she, did rot
care to expose her ignorance to her hv v
band. They had only been married a
short time when he said: “I notice tho
asparagus is about ripe; don’t you want
to go out into the garden and get some ?*
She replied: “I’ll tell you what we Will
do. We will go out together You edn b
up and shake tho tree, and I’ll cat sh
them in my apron as they fall.” —Teas
Siftings.
—“No, sir-ee,” remarked theoldni.-
ident, “my wife did’t bring me a cent.
But it’s all my fault. I wouldn’t have
it. The morning of the day we were
married, I say3 to her, says I: ‘Maria,
how much money have you got?’ Says
she: ‘John, I’ve got just twenty-five
cents.’ Then, says I, ‘Come with me,’
and I took her down to the canal and
had her throw that quarter into the
drink. I wasn’t going to have no wo
man twitting me about spreadin’ around
on her money.”— Lowell Citizen.
—One was carrying home a cent’s
worth of yeast in a pitcher, and the oth
er was going to the store for a bar of
soap in bulk. “Family you live in going
away this summer!” asked the girl with
the yeast. “Well, they did talk of it,”
replied the other, “but the dressmaker
disappointed them. Are your folks go
ing?” “They were going, but the milk
bill came in morning and I guess
they will ht.ee to put off the trip. Dear
me, bat the rich have their troubles as
well as us poor folks. Good-by.—De
troit Free Press.
—lt is almost impossible to get any
information out of a railroad man.
There comes a shrill whistle, followed
by a tremendous shock. You ask the
conductor what’s the matter, and he is
unable to give a guess, notwithstanding
half a dozen cars are off the track and
knocked into kindling wood. This
should teach you, gentle reader, never
to ask questions of a conductor. The
boy who brings water through the cars,
however, will furnish the full particu
lars, with liberal embellishment born of
his boundless imagination. Boston
Transcript.
The Average Newspaper Lie Analyzed.
The average bare-faced newspaper
lie, when analyzed, dwindles into utter
insignificance. For instance: “A man
in Troy, Ga., saw what he thought was
a bunch of snakes. He fired thereat,
and a monster ten feet long straightened
himself out and made for the swamps,
gobbling like a turkey.” It will be seen
that the item contains no mention of the
character of the man who observed this
wonderful object. He might have “had
’em again.” If so, his statements are
not entirely trustworthy. But admitting
that the man was not afflicted with de
lirium tremens, there is still a plausible
explanation. He might have been mis
taken, in the excitement of the moment,
as to the real length of the object which
“made for the swamps.” It possibly
was not more than two feet long. Again,
the thing at which he fired might have
been a cow, and its tail might have been
so disposed as to present the appear
ance of a snake, and the “gobbling like
a turkey” might have been the bellow
ing the gentle bovine sometimes gives
vent to when surprised by an excitable
man with a shotgun. And there’s yet
another theory that may be advanced.
The m m from Troy might have seen a
turkey with ruffled feathers, and might
have imagined those feathers to be a
bunch of snakes; and he might have
shot the turkey just accurately enough
to scatter some of those feathers to the
winds in such a way as to cause them to
appear like the elongated body of an
antediluvian monster. While there is
no desire herein to demonstrate the ab
surdity or even falsity of the quoted
statements, it must be said that the item
would have looked much better pub
lished after this fashion: “A man in
Troy, Ga., shot at a tnrkey and missed
it, and the turkey ran, gobbling, into
the swamp.”— Chicago Herald.
—Of the population of Kansas, 77,000
were borji ip lodiaoa,