Newspaper Page Text
POOR GENEVIEVE.
Shortly after the conclusion of the
late war, a gentleman, distinguished as
h scholar and a politician, was proceed
ing up the Mississippi. During the
trip he became indisposed, and finally
so ill that, at his own request, he was
put on shore at one of those little old
French villages between the mouth of
the Ohio and St. Louis. The agitation
of removal and the heat of a summer
day so aggravated his disease, which
was a bilious fever, that lie became cle
firious, and for a time he knew nothing
of what transpired.
Ilis returning consciousness disclosed
to him a female, with a cap such as
French attendants generally wear a
plain gown, and a black silk apron,
with a sweet, gentle and expressive
face, apparently bearing the impression
of deep solicitude. Perceiving him to
be awake, she inquired, in a voice of
exquisite melody, if he wanted any
thing. Instead of answering the ques
tion.the sick man,whom I shall call Hart
land, though that, was not his real name,
asked two or three others, in a low, fee
ble tone.
“ Where mn I—and who arc you ?”
“ You are in St. , and I am poor
Genevieve, your servant ; can I do
anything for you, sir ?”
“Oh, a nurse they have provided for
me, I suppose,” thought Hartland, “ I
shall, therefore, stand on no ceremony
with her. My good girl, l will thank
yon for a glass of something to quench
iny thirst—l ain burning up, I believe.”
Genevieve took his hand, and, after
holding it a little while, laid it softly
down on his head, saying, as if to her
self, “ It does indeed burn like fire.”
The touch of her hand was so soft that
Hartland could tell that slio pitied him
with all her heart. At tins moment
his physician came, and our traveler
recognized in him an old acquaintance,
a senator w hom he had known at Wash
ington, and a very eminent, man in his
profession. He felt extremely grateful
at having so gentle a nurse and so able
a physician. Yet Ins recovery was so
slow that it did no great credit to either
nurse or doctor, for it was nearly six
weeks before his fever was fairly bro
ken.
One day while the doctor w-as with
him, it suddenly occurred to llartlaud
to inquire where he was, how he came
there, and, more especially, to whose
kindness he was indebted for such
benevolent attentions.
“ You are in the house of Mademoi
selle de F , a young lady of French
extraction, a great heiress of lands,
mines, and what not, extending no one
knows where; and, withal a most beau
tiful, amiable, accomplished woman,”
replied his friend. “ She is a ward of
mine, or rather was, for she is now of
age, and might have married years ago,
bat for a singular scruple which she en
courages at the risk of passing the re
mainder of her life in single blessed
ness.”
“ Ah!” rejoined Hartland, who found ;
himself not a little interested about the
heiress; “ ah, what may the scruple
be?”
“ She imagines, or rather fears, it is
her great possessions that attracts so
many admirers wherever she goes ; and
she once told me she never saw but one
man toward whom she felt almost irre
sistibly attracted, and he treated her as
if she was nobody.”
“ I should like to sec her,” answered
Hartland, “ for, independent of the ob
ligations I owe her, she must be some
thing of a curiosity. Such humanity is
not often coupled with wealth, beauty
and accomplishments. But you have
not yet told me how I came to be
here.”
“ You were seen by a good old aunt
who resides with the young lady, and
who happened to be looking out of the
window as you landed, in a state oi
partial delirium. She apprised Ma
demoiselle de F of the circum
stances, who immediately gave direc
tions to have you brought here.
“ Upon my word, I owe her obliga
tions which I can never repay. ’
“ That is more than you know,” said
the doctor, smiling.
The doctor then rose to depart when
Hartland, with a degree of hesitation
which surprised himself, and the color
rising in his pale cheek, asked :
“ But, doctor, now I think of it, who
is the gentle, kind, attentive nurse, to
whom, I verily believe —meaning no
reflection on your skill —I am indebted
for my recovery. I owe her much, and
you must put me in some way of ex
pressing my obligations.”
“ She is paid for her attendance,” re
plied the doctor, carelessly, “ and will
accept of nothing from you, except
what you will not perhaps be willing to
bestow, on her.”
“ What do you mean by that doctor?'’
“ Nothing,” answered lie, as he de
parted with another significant smile.
Jiartland fell into a reverie, from
which hp was roused by the steps of
•Genevieve, who entered the room with
slow timidity, and asked, in trembling
accents, after his health.
“ I am quite well, dear Genevieve,
thanks to j’our blessed kindness, which
I can never repay.”
“My wages are already paid,” an
swered she, with apparent simplicity ;
“ and now that you are quite recovered,
lam going away, I came to bid yon
farewell, to express my wishes for your
happiness, and to ask of you sometimes
to remember poor Genevieve.”
Thare was something exquisitely
touching in her voice, her look, and the
dewy luster of her eyes, as she pro
nounced these words, which entered the
very soul of Hartland.
Genevieve,” said he, “ sit down by
VOL. II—NO. 31.
me and hear what I am going to say.
! Nay, I insist upon your being seated,
for you have much to hear, ami it does
not become one who owes his life to
you, to be seated while you are stand
; '“o* *
“It does not become one like me to
jbe seated in the presence of one like
you,” rejoined Genevieve in a low and
thrilling voice of humility, ns llartlnnd
with respectful violence compelled her
to place herself by Ids side on the sofa.
“ Genevieve,” said he, “ you have
saved my life. I am not ungrateful.
Do not leave me with a load of obliga
tions on 1113* heart that will weigh me
down to the earth with a sense of abso
lute degradation. My life will be com
paratively worthless, unless you permit
me to consecrate It to jour happiness.
I would make you my wife,” cried Hart
land. with a tone and expression that
could not be mistaken. “My dear,
dear wife, to live with me and be my
love forever.”
“ Are you really in earnest?” faltered
she, with tears and trembling.
“ What, poor Genevieve I”
“ Yes, ‘ Poor Genevieve,' 1 am in
earnest—serious and solemn as a man
can bent the moment when the happi
ness of his life hangs on the decision
of a moment.”
II is niU3e rose to leave the room.
Hartland sought-to detain her a mo
ment, for her answer, lint she only
replied with a look and accent he could
not comprehend. “ You will receive it
soon from my mistress.”
“ Pshaw !" exclaimed he in a pet;
“ what care I for your mistress ?”
“ 15ut you must care for her, and love
her too; she is far more worthy of your
heart than poor Genevieve.”
“If I do may my ”
“ Hush! do not swear, lest you
should forswear yourself the next min
ute. Remember what I say. In less
than a quarter of an hour you will for
sake poor Genevieve. You will not
acknowledge jour love for her in the
presence of my mistress.
“ Come !” cried Hartland, seizing her
hand, “ lead me at once to your mis
tress, and put me to the test.”
Genevieve did not reply', but lead him
into a capacious apartment, whose win
dows, reaching to the floor, opened on
a terrace overlooking a little river that
skirted a green lawn, as it coursed its
way to eternal oblivion in the bosom of
the great father of waters. No one was
there to receive him, and Genevieve
immediately left the room, merely say
ing, “ I will tell my mistress j t ou are
here.” He remained a few minutes
looking out on the scene before him,
but unconscious of its loveliness, when
he was roused by the opening of a door,
and turning round perceived a female
advancing with hesitating steps and
head inclining towards the earth. Her
face was entirely' hid by a thick, black
vail, which descended below her waist,
and prevented the contour of her figure
from being seen.
Hartland advanced to pay his com
pliments and express his acknowledge
ments, which he did with his usual
grace and fluency. But the lady made
no reply', and for a few moments seemed
greatly agitated. At length she slow
ly put aside her vail, and at once dis
closed the face of Genevieve, glowing
with blushes of modest apprehensive
delicacy, her eyes cast down and her
bosom swelling with emotion. In an
instant he comprehended all.
“ Genevieve ?” exclaimed. “Is it
possible ?”
“ Yes,” answered the well-remem
bered, persuasive, gentle voice which
had so often soothed his pains, and
quieted his impatience in the hours of
sickness. “ Yes, once poor Genevieve,
your nurse—now rich and happy Gene
vieve, for now she has found in the
man she would have selected from all
the world one who loves her for herself
alone. Hartland, dear Hartland, will
you forgive me ? It is the last time I
will deceive y T ou.”
Hartland was not obdurate, and the
forgiveness was accorded by folding
Genevieve in his arms, and imprinting
on her lips the first, sweetest kiss of
love.
A Senator’s Joke on a Newspaper.
Senator Conover played an exceeding
ly sharp game, and perpetrated a neat
practical joke on the Washington Post
recently. A paragraph in that paper
read as follows:
Senator Conover is a nice gentleman
socially, but really now, senatorial dig
nity requires that he should shoot that
hat. A hill for anew one may be sent
to the editor of the Post.
The next day an affable young man
called at the office of the Post and pre*
£e:;t and the following for liquidation:
Wahhikgton, D. C., Feb. 22, 1878,
Mr. Editor of the Post,
Bought of B, H. Stinemetz,
Hatter and Furrier, 1,237 Pa, ave.
One soft hat for Senator Conover, as
per notice iu the Post of this date, 85.
Received payment,
B. II Stiwemetz.
Approved —S. B. Conovek.
The Post comment!* thus: “We paid
the bill.”
LJmiLLL! I —JJ L .. Jj SJLL - JUS" ULLJI
The Four Queer Companions.
Cibber, the actor and dramatist, in
company with three friends, once made
an excursion. Cibber lmd a false set of
teeth ; one of his friends, a glass eye; a
second friend a cork leg; but the third
had nothing particular, except a re
markable way of shaking his head.
'They traveled in a post-coach ; and while
at the first stage, after each hud made
merry with his neighbor’s infirmity, they
agreed that at every baiting place they
would all affect the same singularity.
When they came to breakfast, they all
squinted ; and, as the countrymen stood
gaping round, when they alighted:
“Od rot it!” cried one, “ how that
man squints.”
“ Why,” said a second, "here be an
other squinting fellow !”
The third was thought to be a better
squinter than the other two, and the
fourth better than all the rest. In short,
language cannot express how admirably
they all squinted-*-for they went one de
gree beyond the superlative. At dinner
they appeard to have cork legs; and
their stumping about made more diver
sion than at breakfast. At ten they
were all deaf; hut at supper, which was
at the Hliip, at Dover,each man resumed
his character, the better to play his part
in the farce they had concerted among
them. When they were ready to go to
bed, Cibber called out to the waiter:
“ Here, you fellow, take out my
teeth.”
“Teeth, sir?” said the man.
“Ay ! teeth, sir! Unscrew that wire,
and they’ll all come out together.” Af
ter some hesitation, the man did as lie
was ordered. Then another called out:
“ Here, you ! take out my eye!”
“Lor’, sir!” said the waiter, “your
eye!”
“ Yes, my eye! Coinc here you stu
pid dog! Pull up the eyelid, and it will
come out as easily as possible.”
This done the third cried out: —
“ Here, you rascal, take off my leg !”
This the waiter did with less reluc
tance, having Iveen before apprised that
it was cork, and also conceiving that it
would be his last job. He was, howev
er, mistaken. The fourth watched his
opportunity, and, while the frightened
waiter was surveying with rueful coun
tenance the eye, the teeth the leg lying
on the table, cried out, in a frightful
hollow voice:—
“ Come here, sir—take off my head 1”
Turning around, and seeing the man’s
head shaking like tiiat of a mandarin
upon a chimney-piece, he darted out of
the room, and, after tumbling headlong
down the stairs, ran about the house
swearing that the gentlemen above
stairs were certainly all devils.
Healthiest Country in America.
The highland districts of South Caro
lina and Georgia are the healthiest and
finest portions of our country'. The
size of the families in this favored re
gion would astonish New England.
Mrs. Annie Jolly, of Anderson Dis
trict, had eight sons in the Confederate
army, six of whom were killed in bat
tle. One of the survivors, Manson
Jolly, was a terror to the Federal troops
for months after the surrender. In
this same District, James Stevenson
had eight sons in the Confederate ser
vice ; Asa Bolt had nine, and James
Shirly eight. Three gentlemen met
accidentally in Abbeville village, and
found out in conversation together that
they had in all, 20 sons in the army.
Charles T. Haskell had eight, Marshall
Hodges nine, and Robt. 11. Wardlaw
nine. Charles T. Haskell married a
daughter of Langdon Cheves. Seve
ral of his sons became distinguished
field officers.
But the most remarkable case was in
Laurens District. Maj. George An
derson had thirteen sons in the Confed
erate army. We believe this is with
out parallel anywhere.
Some idea may be formed of the
healthiness of this remarkable section
from a single fact. There is a Mrs.
Botts living in Abbeville District, who
is now seventy-seven years of age.
She said to the writer : “ I have borne
twelve children, and raised eleven of
them. I have never been sick in my
life, and never paid a cent to a doctor
on my own account.” Mrs. Botts lost
two gallant sons in the Mexican war.
She had in the Confederate struggle
four sons, five sons-in-law, three grand
sons and two nephews. She said,
“ Some of my sons got wounded, but
all of them came home except poor
Tom, and he was starved to death in
Elmira,” Someone remarked to Mrs,
Botts that she had constitution and
strength enough to last till she was a
hundred, She replied, “ That's noth
ing, why my mother lived till she was
one hundred and twenty, and was court
ed when she was one hundred and sev
enteen !”
In a recent scandal case in Smith county,
Kansas, a lady witness declined to answer
a question, and the attorney demanded her
reason. ” Because it is not fit to tell de
cent people.” “ Oh, well, just walk up
1 here and whisper it to the judge,” said the
attorney.
HARTWELL, GA„ WEDNESDAY, MARCH :>7, 1878.
Wlmt did the Man Say.
A aeeae in court w ith a stupid w itness.
A man had been caught in the act of
theft, aud pleaded in extenuation that
he was drunk.
Court (to the policeman, who was
witness) —
“What did the prisoner say when
you arrested him ?”
Witness—"He said he was drunk."
Court —“ I want his precise words, just
as he uttered them ; lie didn't use t lie pro
noun lie, did he?” He didn't say he
was drunk ?”
Witness—“Oh, yes, he did—he said
he was drunk; he acknowledged the
corn."
Court (getting impatient nt the wit
ness’ stupidity)—“You don’t understand
me at all; I want the words as lie utter
ed them ; didn't he sav, ‘ I. wasdrunk?”’
Witness, deprecatingly—“ Oh, no,
your Honor. He didn’t say you w ere
drunk; I wouldn’t allow any man to
charge that upon you in my presence.”
Prosecution —“ Pshaw! you don’t
comprehend at all. His honor means
did not the prisoner say to you, ‘ I was
drunk ?”
Witness,reflectively—“Well, lie may
have said you was drunk, hut I didn’t
hear him.”
Attorney for the prisoner—“ What
the court desires is to have you state the
prisoner’s own words, preserving the
precise form of the pronoun that he
made use of in reply. Was it first per
son I, second person thou, or the third
person he, she or it? Now then, sir,
(with severity,) upon your oath, didn’t
ray client say “ I was drunk ?”
Witness, getting mad—“ No, he didn't
say you was drunk, either, but if he
had I reckon lie wouldn’t a lied any,
Do you s’pose the poor fellow charged
this whole court with being drunk?”
CloYor and Grasses in the South—CaparN
£ ty of the Soil---Summerville.
Oor respondent c of the Detroit Free Vretf.
Avgusta, Ga.
The prevailing opinion throughout
tiie North and West, that clover and
grasses cannot be grown successfully
at the South is erroneous. In the rich
alluvial Valley of the Savannah, around
Augusta, clover and grasses flourish,
In the clay lands along the river above
Augusta the experiment has not been
tried except on thin soil and only in a
few instances. Wherever the soil has
been well prepared and enriched clover
and the grasses grow luxuriantly. But
we of the South have grasses growing
nine months in the woods and fields-
We have “ pea vines ” to make one to
four tons of hay per acre. German
millet is equally productive, three crops
of which can be had in the summer ;
rye, oats, etc., for winter. That we can
make all our forage, the Western and
Northern farmers who have come among
us are demonstrating.
We have labor —that is, hireling la
bor—in abundance,
We need farmers who own their land
and work it. Before the war Georgia
produced all her provisions, bread and
meat. After the war the bondholders,
seeking to control Congress, ostracised
the Southern statesmen, and through
the “ boj’s just turned out of school ”
put in ollice the carpet-baggers from
the Last, and in the process taught the
“ new voters” that all the animals that
would make meat and all the crops that
would make bread belonged to them.
This made the raising of hogs, cattle,
sheep, etc., an expensive luxurj’. Hav
ing accomplished their object they were
willing to allow a white man to be as
good as a nigger. Now we have com
menced to make hog and hominy and
our statesmen have united with tho.se of
the West to restore a plenty of the
needful gold, silver and greenbacks to
the country. In the Village of Summer
ville, at the end of the street railroad,
situated among the sand hills, a North
ern man, Stetson, has opened a board
ing house. The United States arsenal
is located in this beautiful village. It
is a suburban part of “ beautiful Au
gusta,” but sub. in this case means
three miles distant and three hundred
feet above. To those who need a home
in our dry pine lands, with fine society,
churches and schools (Episcopal and
Presbyterian) and have means, there is
no better location than Summerville.
Should they not have a good supply
of greenbacks, gold or silver, they had
best go further and purchase a farm, or
come to the city. Now and Then.
Origin of the Letter Stamp.
The origin of the stamp had a tinge
of romance in it. It was thirty-seven
years ago that Rowland Hill, while
crossing a district iu the north of Eng
land, arrived at the door of an inn where
a postman had stopped to deliver a let
ter. A young girl came out to receive
it; she turned it over iu her hand and
asked the price of postage. This was a
large sum, and evidentallv the girl was
poor, for the postman demanded a shil
ling. She sighed sadly, and said that
the letter was from her brother, but that
1 she had no money ; and so she returned
the letter to the postman. Touched with
pity, Mr. Ilill paid the postage and gave
the letter to the giW,* who d very
much embarrassed. Scarcely had the
postman turned his back when the young
innkeeper’s daughter confessed that it
was a trick between her and her brother.
Some signs on the envelope told her all
she wanted to know, but the letter con
tained no writing. “We are both so
poor,” siie added, “ that we invented this
'mode of correspondence without paying
for our letters." The traveler continued
his road, asked himself if a system giving
place to suoh frauds was not a \ icious
one. Before sunset, Rowland lmd plan
ned to organize the postal service on a
new basis—with w lint success is known
to the world.
The Man That Saved a City.
The inhabitants of NcopoLjf, hearing
of the approach of Timour, the Tartar,
prepared to defend themselves with
vigor, but Nasur counseled them to do
nothing of the sort, hut to trust to him
alone, and his meditation with Tumour.
The people were doubtful of his success,
but they yielded. Before proceeding to
the camp of the besieger, Nasur, who
knew it was useless to approach the great
chief without a present, considered what
gift was likely to he most acceptable,
lie resolved it should he fruit, but he
hesitated between figs and quinces.
“ I will consult with my wife,” said
Nnsur-cd-Decn, and lie accordingly did
so.
The lady advised him to take quinces,
as the larger fruit.
“ Very good,” said Nasur; “ that be
ing your opinion, I will take figs.”
When ho reached the foot of the
throne of Tamerlane, he announced
himself as the ambassador from the be
leaguered citizens, aud presented, as an
offering of their homage, his trumpery
basket of figs. The chief burst into
rage, and ordered them to lie Hung at
the head of the representative of the
people of Jcrgi-Shebeher. The cour
tiers pelted him with right good will;
and each time he was struck, Nasur, who
stood patient and immovable, gently ex
claimed :
“ Now, Allah be praised 1” or, “ Oil,
the Prophet be thanked! ” or, “Oh, ad
mirable! how can I be sufficiently great
ful?”
“ What dost thou mean, fellow?”
asked Tumour; “we pelt you with figs
and you seem to enjoy it.”
“ Ay, truly, great sir;” replied Nasur ;
“I gratefully enjoy the consequence of
my own wit. My wife counseled me to
bring quinces, but I chose to bring figs;
and well that 1 did, for witli figs you
have only bruised me, but had I brought
quinces you would huve beaten my
brains out.”
The stern conqueror laughed aloud,
and declared that, for the sake of one
fool lie would spare all the fools in the
city, mule and female, them and their
property.
“Then,” cried Nasur, “the entire
population is safe!” and he ran home
ward to communicate the joyful intelli
gence.
A liird in the Hand.
New York Herald.
His Honor struggled for a moment
with the syllables before lie said : “ Ni- j
colai Blatherski, why do you insist on j
keeping poultry about your house in vi- J
elation of the sanitary code and to the
manifest detriment of health in aud
about Essex street?”
The prisoner smiled feebly and scratch
ed his left knee with his shinbbonae —a
way lie had of digesting such queries.
At last he fixed his eyes on the bench,
and observed, with an air of conviction,
“ Yah, dot is so.”
“ in spite of your ignorance of Anglo
Saxon,” Ilis Honor persisted, “the law
must be enforced, I will inflict the usual
penalty, and do not let me see you here
again on this charge. There is no need
of your keeping geese about you. When
you want them there are poulterers
enough to supply them.”
“ Ah, so,” assented Nicholai with his
index finger flattened along his nose,;
“ but von bird in mine bund is vort two
birds in some oder place vere dey j
didn’t vas”—with which satisfactory;
rendition of the proverb lie paid bis fine.
Burned to Death by a Meteor.
The St. Louis Republican says : An
intelligent black boy was trudging
along a highway at, night in the vicini
ty of Palestine, Texas. There was a
negro woman riding a horse in the
direction the boy was going. The in
telligent black boy reappeared in Pal
estine that night out of breath and as
pale as he could get. He said he saw
a ball of fire come out of the sky and
strike the woman and set tier ablaze.
The horse ran one way with the woman
afire on his back; and Me ran back to
town to tell the people what had hap
pened. The people went to look alter
further particulars of this incident.
They found the woman lying on the
ground, with all her clothing burned off,
but with lifp enough in her to tell that
she had been struck in the breast by a
ball of The horse was found with
his rptine singed and the woman died
tin* next day. The people think she
r'was bit by a meteor.
WHOLE NO. 83
riCLT FINDING.
fur ISr llartu'iU Sun. '
Thnt there exists a disposition in th#
tmuiau family to uutiee the errors and
imperfections in others, no curs will
deny.
How we will sit hr our firesides, or
t ravel the roads, and say: Mr. 8. has
done this or that, and I have heard
some unfavorable reports on this man
over hero. My neighbor A. has done
something thnt I did not think he woukl
!>c guilty of. Such and such persons
(naminujlletn} have been doing very
badly,*?®
Now, Messrs. Editors, these things
may be true; but I take the position
that “there is none good, no not one
and if we would spend the time, that
is worse than wasted in this way, in the
examination of our own hearts and see
whether we are doing to others as we
would wish they should do to us, wo
would accomplish more.
Is there a perfect man living f la
any person free from some fault ? Aro
we not all tho same by nature ? If so,
while I may be exposing my brother’s
little faults before the public, he can
impeach me probably, with truth, of
worse things than ho has done. Now,
friends, if by my exposing your faults,
or you my faults, would bring about a
better state of feeling between us, we
would be justifiable; but none of us
like to have our evil deeds made public.
Well, what is the remedy f Let
every man, woman and child, that is
capable, carefully examine themselves,
and if wo see faults in others let each
and every one strive to prevent their
own. He or she that will search out
his or her own failings, and will resolve
on amendment, acts for his or her pres
ent and future happiness. If we see
faults in others, if we speak of them at
all, let us go to them in the spirit of
love and tell them, between them and
us ; and not forget that we are falliblo
ourselves, and while wc can discern a
mote that is in our brother’s eye, a
beam may be in our own eye.
Philanthropist.
A Feline Jfursc.
Culling at a farm house the other day,
says a writer in an English paper, I was
told I was just a day too late to sec a
very wonderful sight—a cat nursing
some little chicks. It appears the cat
had a family of dead kittens a few days
before, and the same morning some five
or six chicks were hatched. As there
were others to come out, the lady of tho
house took the just hatched chicks into
the house till all were hatched, and
placed them before the fire in the sitting
room, or, us we sny here, the keeping
room. Pussy, greatly to the horror of
the good lady of the house, took a great
fancy to them, and could not be kept
away from them. Wishing to see what
would take place the owner allowed her
to come near, when she began to stroke
them down with her paw’ in the most af
fectionate and tender manner, and af
ter awhile, lying down, gathered them
well under her. There she lay all tho
day; in the evening they were taken
from her, but the next day she did tho
same; hut the third day, fenrful of acci
dents, they were taken away from her
and put under their proper mother; who
bud now hatched out her whole brood.
I wonder what pussy would huve douo
witli them ?
The D— dost Liars.
There were a great many Christina
people who acted as though they be
lieved that the Saviour, when he said,
“ Suffer little children to come unto
me,” had a raw-hide concealed about
his person, and only wanted to coax
them within reach of it. Even when
they do not beat their offspring, they
lie to and deceive them, and then ex
pect them to tell the truth. The lec
turer told a story about a little boy in
Grand Rapids, Mich. The child's fa
ther and mother had promised to take
it riding with them the next time they
went out. Weeks passed and still the
promise was unfulfilled. At length,
one bright morning, the father and
mother went quietly ont of the rear of
the house, got into their carriage, and
drove away. As they were going out
they passed the front piazza, on which
the child was standing with his nurse.
The little fellow looked up into the
nurse’s face, pointing to his departing
parents, and said, “ There go the two
d—dest liars in Grand Rapids !”—la
yer soil's Lecture.
To Tan Sklus.
Take equal parts of pulverized alum
and salt, sprinkle over the skin while
it is green (or if dry, wet it with water)
until it will soak up no more, and then
roll it into a tight roll and lay away for
about thirty-six hours. It will gather
moisture sufficient to form a brine which
will cure tho skin. Then unroll nnd
spread to dry ; when nearly dry, work
it and scratch it until it is entirely dry,
when it will be soft and pliable and
wear as well as if tanned by some patent
process. This is a simple and easy plan
and easily tried.
Look out for had 50 cent nieces.
I Clever counterfeits are in circulation,
i They have no “ ring,” but fall as dead
at a door uail when struck ou a couutor-