Newspaper Page Text
THE SUN,
a —J > lj, •/ T.
HAKTWILL, MAR T I'OtllTY, v
AYERS & MILL, Edit
A PyKS'.DL.M,
'' 1 '
GEN. W. S. HANCOCK,
/Oh PENNS?], V A NIA.
FOR VItJF PRESIDENT,
HON. W. H. ENGLISH,
OF INDIANA.
> if i
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTORS.
FOR THE STATE AT LA ROE :
J. C. C. BLACK, R. E. KENNON.
ALTERNATE :
LUTHER J. GLENN, A. i\ ADAMfcj.
DISTRICT ELECTORS:
First District—Samnel I). Bradwell
of Liberty. Alternate—Josephus Camp
of E'januei.
Second District—Win. M. Hammond,
of Thomas. Alternate—Win. Harrison,
of Quitman.
Third District—Christopher C. Smith,
of Telfair. Alternate—James Bishop,
Jr., ef Dodge.
Fourth District-Lavender R. Ray,
of Coweta Alternate—Henry C. Came*
ron, of Harris.
Fifth District—Jno. I. Hall, of Spald
ing. Alternate—Daniel I*. Hill of Ful
ton.
Sixth District—Reuben 15. Nijbet, of
Putnam. Alternate—Firming G. Du
ll gnon, of Baldwin.
Seventh District— Tlios. W. Akin, of
Birtow. Alternate—Peter W. Alexin
der, of Cobb.
Eighth District—Seaborne Reese, c*
Hancock. Alternate—James K. Hines>
of Washington.
Ninth District—Wra. E. Simmons, of
Gwinnett. Alternate—Marion G. Boyd,
or White.
STATE REHOCKATIC TICKET,
FOR GOVERNOR:
NORWOOD or COLQUITT.
FOR SECRETARY OF STATE:
U BARNETT, of Baldwin.
FOR COMPTROLLER-GENERAL :
WM. A. WRIGHT, of.Richmond.
FOR TREASURER :
D.N. SPEER, cf Troup.
FOR ATTORNEY-GENERAL :
CLIFFORD ANDERSON, of Bibb.
Uorv Women Read Newspapers J
Somebody says that one who will
Watch a woman read a newspaper will
get some new ideas of the cliaracteristics
of the gentle sex. Site, takes It lip hur
riedly, and begin? to scan it Over rapidly,
as though she was hunting, some partic
ular thing; but,she is not. She is merely
tiiking in the obscure paragraphs, which,
she half believes, were put in the out-of-
the-way places for the sake of keeping
her from seeing them. As she finishes
dash one, her countenance brightens
with the comfortable reflection that she
has outwitted the .edityr and the whole
race of men, for she cherishes a vague
belief that newspapers are the enemies
of her sex, and editors its chief oppres
sors. She never reads the headlines, and
the huge telegraph Heads she never even
sees, bite is greedy for local news, and
devours it with the keenest relish. Mar
riages and deaths are always interesting
reading to her, and advertisements are
exciting and stimulating, She cares but
little for printed jokes, unless they re
lied ridicule upon the men, and then
she delights in them and never forgets
them, She pays particular attention to
anything inclosed in quotation marks,
and considers it rather better authority
than anything first-handed. The col
umns in which the . editor airs his
opinions, in leaded lrifalutin, she rarely
reads. Views are ot no importance in
her estimation, but facts are everything.
Bite generally reads the poetry. She
doesn’t always care for it, out she makes
a practice of reading it,, Iwause she
thinks she ought to. 'She reads stories,
and sketches, and paragraphs indiscrim
inately, and believes every word of them.
Finally, after she has read all she in
tends to, she lays the paper down with
an air of disappointment, and a half con
temptuous gesture, which says very
plainly that she thinks all newspapers
miserable failures, but is certain that if
she had a cliance, she could make the
only perfect newspaper the world had
ever seen.
A RemarkaWe Marriage.
The Butler (Ga.j Herald gives aji ac
count of the* most wonderful marriage
on record. It says: “lhe most un
expected (and we might state romantic)
marriage that has ever occurred in
Taylor county, took place at the residence
of'Mrs. Bartlett, on last Friday night.
Bv the Rev. J. G. Murray, Mr. John
Childrews, twenty-three years of age, to
to Mrs. Bartlett, fifty-nine years ot age,
wife of the late James Bartlett, whose
death occurred about three months ago.
Mr. Childrews is a poor but worthy
young man, who has' for several years
past been an employe of Mr. Bartlett.
Mrs. Bartlett, being a lady of consider
able wealth, has agree! U>, thoroughly
educate her husband, and he is now in
attendance at the Butler Female College
and Male Institute.''
The Hartwell Bun.
By AYERS & McGILL.
M)l.. V. NO.
• V a V*"*
lOFVi LOVeKSi
* y ridkbr cart.
Toomo<*k by half wnahf who cum*
A wooing me on* morn.
F'* he thought %n little of himself
1 h upitxl to ehuro his
A1 nisiit 1 hM a suitor, rain ‘
A the vainest in the land;
Almost he whmidml to condtwend
lu the ollor ol his baud. * j a
•In one who prrswd Ms stilt f missed' 1 *" *
Courage ami manly pride;
And how could I think of uch a one
Asa leader and a gajklo.
And then there worshipper
With such undoubting trust,
That when he knelt he seemed not worth
Uprising from the dust.
The next was never in the wrong,
Was not too smooth nor rough[
So faultless and so good was he.
That Uuu Was fa Alt enough, ’
But one, the last of all that cam&
1 know not how to paint;
No angel do I seem to him—
He scarcely call* mo Salntl
He hath such sins and weaknesses
As mortal man befall;
He hath a thousand faults, and yel
I tri e him with iheiu ail.
*
He never asked me yes of nay,
Nor knelt to me one hour;
But he took my heart and holds my heart
With a lover’s tender power.
And I bew, as needs 1 must, and say.
In proud humility,
Love's might is right, aud I yield at lust
To manhood’s royalty 1
ADELINA.
It-was the day after New Year’s—a
cold, clear Tuesday morning—that I dis
consolately wended my way to school,
wishing that holidays came oftehcr and
stayed longer, and regretting that out of
fifty-two there was only one week of un
interrupted ple;tsure.
The old red sohnol-houSc store] at the
Tfincthms of three rbadsf ana as I
raised the little hill just before reaching
it, I MW, coming from the opposite
direction, a little black-clad figure that
looked like a moving blot on the un
broken whiteness of the sn.>w-covcrcd
landscape.
I never could tell what actuated me to
linger on her movements as I did, or why
she so strongly attracted me, but from
the first I think I must have loved the
child, even before I was old enough to
slightly understand the meaning ol the
word.
We reached the worn old door-stone
together, and, being a boy, not at all
afwiS 'ti gper.fr pi any one, much less a
timid little girl, I very coolly asked her if
this was her first day at school.
“ Yess and 1 dread it so much.”
It was the sweetest voice;l had ever
’heard or have ever IlcaVd since. The
peculiar rising inflection on the last
word was like the short, clear, low notes
of a bird, and as purely natural.
“ Do you opine every day?”
“ Havn’t missed a day this winter.”
“ Oli, I am so glad!”
“ Why are you so glad?”
“ Because you are a good boy. Won’t
you please, to tell me yourname?”
“ Edward Durand. ’
“I like the name,” she said sweetly,
and, boy as I am, I wondered now any
mortal ever came by such an angelic
smile. All this time she had been try
ing to untie the round worsted strings of
her hood, but had only succeeded in
drawihg them into a harder knot.
.“Won’t you please untie it forme,
Eddie?”
She held up her little chin, and with
out a moment’s hesitation I bent down
and did as she requested. It was such a
tender, confiding little face —who could
helpkloving it? I patted encouragingly
the rose-red cheek turned toward ntc in
a gentle truthfulness, and bade her not
to be afraid, for she had as good a right
to come to school as any one.”
“ Hallo! where did that little black
bird come from?” cried kind-hearted
lien Philips as we entered.' “ Come along,
little girl, and get warm, for you look
half frozen.”
A general tittering and nudging fol
lowed Ben’s energetic sealing of the new
scholar, and one saucy little minx, not
understanding its significance, asked
pertly:
“What are you looking so like a crow
for? I hate a black dress,”
“ Hush!” reproved an older girl, who
overheard the remark. “Hush, Sue;
don’t you see she is in mourning?”
The voice that had so charmed me in
the entry answered the question in a
a strangely quiet way.
.“iflly father is dead!”
A husk as of death fell upon tho noisy
group gathered around the old firaeke;
stove. The unwonted silence was broken
bv the entrance of the teacher, who rap
ped us to order, after which he briskly
called up the new scholar.
“ What is your name?”
“ Adelina.”
Mr. Pike looked wise.
“Adelina Lagrange, I suppose; and
you are the daughter of the lady who
has recently taken the Baldwin cot
tage?’
* f 0C( sir. ’
“Well, von mnv take this scat,” point
ing to a bench not far from where I was
piping and without further questioning
Adelina had passed through the trying
ordeal of a “first day,” and was duly
counted one of us.
Her mother, it was rumored, was a
ladv of refinement snd culture, but very
proud and reserved in her demeanor tor
a person who was obliged to teach music
for a living. Mrs. Lagrange at any
rate was voting, handsome, and recently
widowed-at least the length and new
ness of her veil indicated to observing
feminine eyes that the bereavement
! was recent, and that is all the gossips
! knew about her. ......
j xhe summer term brought Adelina
11ARTWEIL. < > A., SLEPT., 29, ISBO.
* . 2*
Jhjfr.ihv In tne old red -<irt>o{nic>fTe, but M
{ changed outwardly that we hardly knew
her for the somber “blackbird” of tho
previous whiten Bho fluttered in one
morning dressed in white, with sash and
shoulder-knots of cherry ril*lH>ii^— —tlijj
loveliest l uter *.%w. 4 SrV V
At noon she came to ntc and said, very
gravely:
“Alter to-day I am not coming any
moi t€,**** J f f
“ Why?’*
“I am going to tho city to live; but
you were kind to mo the ft Hit day I
came, and I tell you to. that reason, atid
becattsc you didn’t tttihd untying my
hood for me. 1 *
1 felt her going sio keenly that I could
not study, try as I would, and in conse
quence my gradual-F<*ioti tvfca decided
failiue. 1 \\-tm nome from school her
way that day, taking care that tho
other scholars should not suspect any
motives.
When I came in sight of her she was
standing motionless by the road, atten
tiyidyWatehing u yelimv-jacket buzzing
for MMH’ts in the downy heart of a white
Can'da thistle.
Years after, whett miles atid miles
away from that spot, I could shut my
eye# of a hazy October afternoon, with a
5 o’clock sun dipping toward tho treo
tops, and see a girl, lovely as the blush
of tho sunset, gazing pensively at a bee
upon a common roadside flower.
“ Did it sting you?” I asked, assuming
a very sympathetic air.
“No; bees never sting me, and I’vo
watched them dance oil tlie thistle-heads
all summer. r
“ I did not know that you loved them.
Most girls are afraid of bees-.’’
“ Yes; but I am not-.”
She turned from the rank patch of
tliitdlq? and slowly resumed*, her walk
homeward. /<. f
When we came to the lane where our
paths separated she put up her little
arms to be taken and kissed before leav
ing me, as site said, “to come back no
more.” -
*' Be gotul to yourself, Eddie, and next
winter, if any little loneiy Adelinas
come cold and frightened to the old red
school-house yonder, be kind to them as
you were to me.”
..yojimthing choked in my throat, and I
could nof say a word; but! kissed her
more thali once; and after she had slip
ped Trrtm my arms and was twenty rods
away, 1 sat down and cried like a baby,
because I was never to see nty Adelina
strain.
It was not long before the rumor was
rife in the neighborhood that Mrs. La
grangjp had married a middle-aged mil
lionaire, and that the young w i<fow and
her child had found anew protector in
place of the one death had taken from
them.
Years flitted by —I was twenty-four; I
had fought through the great rebellion—
entered the army a private and came out
of it a captain, shattered in health, and
utterly depleted in pocket, to find myself
at Imine again, ill and altogether distrust
ful of fortune’s smiles.
In my frequent walk to the village
post-office I often passed by the old red
school-house, and never without a sigh
of regret for the many happy, care-freo
days spent within its battered walls.
Among the letters handed to me one
morning was or.c post-marked New York.
.which informed me of the agreeable fact
that, through the instrumentality of a
friend of mine whom lie was anxious to
serve, the undersigned, MV. Maxwell,
had been induced to extend to me a com
mercial opening Jit ..the lilreral salary of
two thousand a year, to lie increased if
merited. ' There was a fortune for me
in the ofler, and I accepted it with alac
rity.
Mr. Maxwell, a rich New York mer
chant, from the first took a lively inter
est in my advancement. The unknown
friend 1 could not account for in any
other way than by supposing it hi be
some soldier or comrade whom I had be
friended in the past,
Within a month I was fairl/estahlished
at my new post of duty, and succeeded
in pleasing Mr, Maxwell so well that, at
the beginning of my second year, he sent
me to Europe in the interest of the
house. Wltigi I returned I was giver a
week’s vacation, which I spent among
the breezv hills of my old country home,
passing the pleasant September days in
trampling through the woods and fields
and by-ways that were the chosen haunts
of my boyhood.
I wae just turning the curve in the
road where Hie Canada thistles grew,
and so lost in my walking reverie that I
'as almost opposite a lady standing in
their midst before I was aware of her
presence.
“I am glad you still love the oH
scenes, Mr. Durand,” she said, without
expressing the least surprise.
1 was astonished. Hero was a lady
whom to the best of my knowledge, I
had never seen before, addressing me, as
familiarly as if we bad known each other
all our lives.
“ Names are treach-* things, and if
I were ever so fortunate as to have
known yours, I am guilty of having for
gotten it,” 1 replied.
“ Men forget easily, f am told; but I
had hoped to find you au exception to
the rule.”
Avery awkward silence on my part
ensued. ‘She took pity oh my evident
enibarrassTnont, anScfrnfihtied:
“ Has your battle with the world en
tirely driven from your recollection all
the old school faces?”
Her voioe dropped to its old, sweet;
clear winning cadence, thrilling iny
whole being with delight.
“ AdcUtut!”
I caught her hand, and before I knew
what 1 was doing, hail carried it to my
lips and kisaed it.
Devoted to Hart County.
mat
Excuse me,”] stammered; “hut t
■—am so glad to sec you, and Volt acent
just the same little - girl 1 kissed here
years ago -not a bit taller, not a bit
older-only Adelina, always lovely and
always loved.”
Then I told her all about myself,
how prosperous I was, and the strange
manucr in which I had oeen brought to
\fc iMiccitf my kind employer. When
I had finished she merely said, ill her
simple way:
“ 1 know it.’’
11 You appear to know everything. Do
yen know Mr. Maxwell?"
“ He is my father.”
“ And my unknown friend—”
41 Adelina:”
1 staggered hack, In my soul ashamed
dint 1 should every good in life—
everything—to a woman who owed 1110
nothing but the poor favor of once hav
ing untied for her a wretched black and
white worsted hood.
I turned away, cut to the heart, but
iho put out a detaining hand.
“ Don’t go, Mr. Durand—that is, don't
go feeling hurl! for It would make me
very unhappy if you were to go away
angry with me.”,
“ Unhappy! What am t ( that a pain to
the should render you Unhappy?** I
answered bitterly.
“ I knew of no other way to expresa
iry gratitude.”
“Gratitude for what?” The question
was rudely abrupt, but she took no no
tice of my ungracious speech.
“Gratitude for the kindness given me
long ago, und which I have missed ever
sftice the day we parted hero by tho
roadside.”
“Are yml conscious of what It Is you
are saving, Adelina?”
“Perfectly.”
“How am I to understand your
nords.”
“That I leave to your good judg
ment,” she smiled, lowering her eyes.
She had an instant illustration of my
"good judgment,” in the way i im
prisoned liei two little hands iu |mth of
mine, and kissocPlho sweet month for it#
shyly whispered promise.
I walked home with Adelina—oh. so
happy! and when I asked her hand of
Mr. Maxwell, he said :
“J.have anticipated your request by
keeping you under my eye for more
titan two vears. Adelina is the best and
tifteSt girl in the world, but 1 believed
you to be as worthy of her as any man
living, ami give her to you confident that
*-ini know how to prize the treasmuyou
have won.”
And so, not long thereafter, 1 married
Adelina, the love of my boyhood, and
the crowning glory of my later years.
Harriet Hosmor.
Harriet Hosnier, who has gained mor
reputation asa sculptor than any woman
in America, is the daughter of a physician,
and wits bom at Watertown, Mass., some
forty-nine years ago. Naturally fragile,
her father encouraged her to lead an
outdoor life, and to take a great deal of
exercise. She was taught to ride and
shoot and develop her body in every
way. She grew into a hoyden and was,
as may be supposed, rather masculine in
her tastes and feelings; but she was
physically strong, which was far more
important. She went to school at
Lenox, and there met the daughter of
Waynian Crow, of St. Louis, between
whom and herself a close friendship was
soon formed. Miss Crow afterward be
came the wife of a nephew of Charlotte
Cushman, the actress. Harriet early
displayed talent for modeling, fitting up
a rude studio in her father’s house, and
filling it with clay models. She went to
Boston, received a few lessons from the
artist Stevenson, and then visited St.
Louis, to see her school-girl friend. The
medical college there was then the only
one in the Republic which admitted
women, and she entered it to study
anatomy, so essential to the prosecution
of her art. She resided with the Crow
family, and but for their social position,
would probably have been tabooed by
general society, mainly French, very
conservative there in those dttys, because
of her studentliood at a medical college,
her attendance on scientific lectures at
night, her going home without escort,
and generally independent ways, which
were regarded with amazement and gen
eral disfavor. Through the generosity
of her friend, Mrs. Hosmer was enabled
to realize the dr?am of her art life in
Rome. She thete studied under Gibson,
and her first regular works were the
ideal heads of Daphne and Medusa,
purchased by Samuel Appleton, of Bos
ton. She then made the statue of Ben
ton for St. l-iouis—it stands in Lafayette
Park—and the Zenobia, in the Mercantile
Library of that city was ordered by
Wavman Crow. Her other works are
well known. Save a brief visit to her
native land in 1857, she has lived in
Rome since she first went there, and her
studio is one of the first places to which
wandering Americans wend their way.
Lord ReaconsfleM’s Magnetic Influence.
Lord Beacon sue Id never passes a favor
uunoucid, never forgets a friend, and
considers or; man his enemy, save Mr.
G’ndstono and Mr. Lowe. He knows
that majorities are made up of units,
and that* unit abstracted from the op
posite n benches unts two in a division.
Vl.ua when In the House of Commons if
Imwatchfa s-ye observed wavering <>n
the par* i an nd'vidual on the opposite,
h somehow or other, before twenty-four
hours passed, managed to come in per
sonal contact with the waverer. lhe
ror.ghest member knows the sound of
ffie ?• bfidly voice and the touch of the
so t hand. There is a good deal of hu
man nature in the House of Commons,
and human nature ['refers Disraeli’,
manners to Gladstone’s.
TEXAS would make thirty-five States
the size of Massachusetts.
$1.50 Per Annum
WHOLE NO. 213.
An fc'liglislliiiau'a Ghost,
l fUw York Bt4f, J
Supervisor Joseph Quick of tile Third
Ward went to the Brooklyn Police
Headquarter* lately with a re|H>rt that a
ghost Siad for six nights disturbed the
inmates of a six-story tenement in At
lantic avenue. TheSmtcrviaorsaid that
tho upper part of the house was vacant.
The ghost tirst made it* presence known
by pounding on the r,*if. Search was
made for the disturber, but no one could
be found. Next a rapping was heard on
the walls, and then mysterious whispers.
An officer was culled, and lie searched
the house carefully, but failed to dis
cover the cause of the rapping. Then
whispers were heard again, whrrcU|>ou
the office/ 1 ! who is an Englishman, re
marked :
“Hit’s one of them hlawsted telloy
fones.”
“ You’re a hlawsted fisd,” came in a
hoarse whisper from the ceiling.
“ Veil, blawst my heyes, but you use
helegant language,” exclaimed the officer,
very red in the face.
“ You’re a bloody fool,” retorted the
unseen whisperer.
Shortly after one of the Inmates of the
house remarked that she was going down
Stairs to supper.
“Oart’t 1 go along?” Asked the wall.
“ Yes, come on,” said the Wmnati.
“Oh, no, I’m not fool enough to go
down there; but to-night I’ll murder
every bloody one of you, whispered the
wall again.
Another unsuccessful hunt was made
for the owner of the voice. Supervisor
Quick informed the reporter
quarters that he proposed to sif 1111 ail
night at the haunted house to see it the
threat Was carried into execution.
Later investigation proves the spook
to be a mere creature of flesh atid blood.
Its manifestations were made through
the medium of the chimney on the next
house. The agent of the premises was
among the listeners, and the mysterious
voice was heard to say, “ Cummings, you
know you’re a liar.” It was discovered
that the ghost was a woman tenant who
delighted in mystifying and terrifying
her neighiiors by talking tnrough the
chimney
The “ Devi J's Bible."
The biggest book in the world, known
as the " Devil’s Bible,” is to be found in
the royal library of Sweden, at Stock
holm, which, it i* said, contain* alto
gether, over 70.000 volumes. Of this
Bible, frequently denominated “Asses’
Book,” bemuse of being writ ten on asses’
skins, a correspondent recently visit
ing the royal library says: “ 1 was shown
the biggest book in the world, the won
derful and gigantic “Asses’ Book,” not
so called for the same reason that the
Pom Atinorum gets its title, but because
it is written on 800 sscs’ skins, which
look like thick, heavy parchment, while
the binding is of oaken boards covered
with vellum, and the clasps are great
masses of ironmongery, and its weight
is such that four men can scarcely carry
it. It contains the Did and New 'Testa
ments, the Apocrypha, and a,sort of en
cyclopedia of then existing knowledge,
and is profuse in gilding and coloring,
green and red being the predominant
colors. It was found in a convent in
Prague, when the city was taken and
sacked by the Swedes during the thirty
years’ war, and is commonly called the
“Devil’s Bible.” 'The story runs that a
monk condemned to death for violation
of his vows, obtained promise of pardon
on the supposed impossible condition,
that lie should transcribe the Bible dur
ing the night, before bis execution;
which he accomplished with diabolical
aid, at the usual price: Satan throwing
in the Apocrypha and encyclopedia, to
show what he could do when he tried. A
loathly portrait of its diabolical inspirer
or transcriber, hoofs, horns, claws, eye
balls and all, is on the back page; the
monk might have made him prettier out
of simple gratitude.
The Grocer’s Predicament.
[ Hack • u *ack Jtc publicnn. J
A grocer in the upper part of the
county has long been in the habit of
sanding his sugar to an extent hitherto
unknown, even in this luxurious towix
so, the other day, a wordly man, in the
most liberal sense of the word, who sus
pected that everything was not as it
should be, called at the store, and, after
making a few purchases, said, “Have
you any sugar with sand in it?”
The grocer’s face flushed as he replied,
“No, sir; do you think I’d be guilty of
such meanness as toadultrate my goods?
No, sir; I’m above that sort of business.”
“ Very well,” replied the customer,
“if you don’t keep it, I’ll have to go
elsewhere for it. I want to use some for
a special purpose.”
The grocer quickly said, “ Lot me see;
come to think of it, I believe I have got
some of the kind you ask for.”
The wary customer then broke forth
with: “Aha! you old rascal; I’ve long
suspected that you doctored your sugar
ana now you’ve given yourself com
pletely away. Good morning.”
When the next customer called, the
grocer looked as if he had just recovered
from asevere attack of delirium tremens.
“ What are you worth?’ asked a rich
old miser of a young man who was court
ing his only child. “ Not much now,
hut I’m coming into a large fortune in a
few years,” was the reply. The marriage
took place, and then the old miser learned
that the large fortune which the young
man was coming into was his father-in
law’s.
Tear-iirop rings, consisting of bangles
with small pear-shaped pendant, are now
worn in Baris. < (ne forces as many of
these rings as possible on one finger, ami
it is understood that each tear is the gift
of a friend.
An Infallible Remedy,
If there i* one thing more than another
that annoys a good wife, who is ner
votisly sensitive to all that is gross and
ill-timed, it is the habit some hus
bands have of using profane language in
their homes. In many cases this is mere
thoughtlessness on the part of the good
man, who never gives a thought to tho
better-half; oven should she mildly re
monstrate, ho pays 110 attention to tho
rebuke.
A lady whoso husband waaaddicted to
tho bad practice we have alluded to,
eumo to her family physician, laid her
grievances before him and said:
“Now, Dr. N , won’t you remon
strate with him, and try to break him
of bis habit? 1 know he will liatcn to
you.”
“W’liy madam,” said the doctor “he
would pay no attention to anything I
could say to him; but as you have come
to me, although somewhat out of my
line, I will recommend n prescription,
to lc administered by you that will c*|-
taitily euro him. It is an infalltfclM
remedy.”
“Oh, what is it doctor?”
“Well, when John comes home again
and swears, do you swear back at him.
Of course, I don’t want you to take tho
name of the 1/ird in vain, but d-n things
u little for his benefit.”
And she did.
The next day John came in and in
quired whether dinner was ready and
was told it was not.
“Well, why in the devil isn’t it?” snid
he.
“Because,” she replied, “the wood was
so d-d wet the fire wouldn't burn.”
“Why, Mary, what is the matter with
you? Are you crazy or have you been
drinking?”
"Neither,” she said, and quietly pro
ceeded to nut on the dinner.
Tho licet didn’t melt like butler be
tween his teeth —it rather resisted *ll ef
forts at mastication, like so much India
rubber; and finally John blurted out:
“What makes this d-n beef so infernal
tough r*
Mary looked up archly and replied:
“Well, John, 1 suppose you went down
to the butcher's, amt, without knowing
tho difference, picked out a piece of
some d-d old stag that hadn’t been fed
for a month.”
John jumped up, looked at his wife in
dismay, and wanted to know what such
language from her lips meant.
“It means just this, John: youare tho
head of the family, and just as long as
you think it manly to swear in my pres
ence, 1 intend to do tho same. If you
don’t like to hear it, you knowhow to
prevent it.”
The cure was radical, and to this date
Mary has never been compelled to ad
minister another dose of Dr. N 's
prescription.
Why the law Is Uncertain.
Language is an imperfect instrument
for the expression of ideas. Not a few
of its forms are ambiguous; that is, they
speak in two ways. Reader and hearer
are left in old Isaac’s perplexity. The
voice is that of Jacob, the hand is that
of Esau.
Many of the terms of language are
equivocal. They have two meanings, so
that the reader is in doubt as to the
mind or intention of the writer.
Those who draft statutes know how
difficult it is to frame a law which shall
be free from ambiguous expressions or
equivocal terms. Judge Story once told
a personal incident, which illustrates
this difficulty.
He was employed by (’(ingress to draft
an act. So important was it that ho
spent six months in trying to perfect
the phraseology. Ilis purpose was to
make the statute so clear that the most
astute lawyer should not he able to cast
the shadow of a doubt upon its mean
ing.
The draft proving satisfactory to tho
lawyers iu Congress, became a law. In
less than a year, a suit, involving the
interpretation of this very law, came
before the court over which Justice
Story presided. Having heard the ar
guments of the aide attorneys, the
Judge confessed that he was unable to
decide upon flic meaning of a statute
which he himself had framed.
He of course, knew what he had
meant to put into the law. But the criti
cisms of the two lawyers showed him
that he had lists! such ambiguous ex
pressions that it was doubtful if hv hW
said what he meant to have said.
A Hint to do.
A western man who is blessed with sev
eral attractive daughters whose charms
occasionally detain their admirers to a Into
hour, has invented an alarm clock of an
ingenious character. It is something on
the style of a “ cuckoo” clock. A prin
cipal feature is that at 10 o’clock itstrikes
loudly, two little doors open, and a man
with a dressing-gown and cap on glides
out, holding in his hand a card Inscribed
“ good-night.” The effect is said to lie
good, and since the arrival of the new
clock there has been no trouble in get
ting rid of callers. The clock is destined
to prove a very popular article in houses
containing marriageable daughters.
The steamer had struck, and while
the passengers were hurriedly making
preparations for their safety, a fat old
Dutchman seized a life-preserver, and
trying iton, began to fill it, blowing till
he was red in the face with his efforts.
“ Hallo!” said a bystander, “ you can’t
fill that thing. There’s a big hole in it!”
A blank look came into the old man’s
face. “MeinGott! Is dat so ? Deni
better keeps my wind in me to float me
on top of der water.”
EscAM/OPED Tomatoes.— Stew toma
toes one hour, add salt and a little
sugar. Put in an earthen dish a layer of
bread crumbs, next a layer of tomatoes,
then over the tomatoes scraps of butter.
Another layer of crumbs, etc., and so on
until the dish is full, having the crumbs
on top. Wet them and bake half an
hour.
Nv York hasa phenomenal baby.
I weighed at birth only eleven and
three-quarter ounces, and was but five
inches long and two and one-half inches
across tl.c shoulders. The little fellow
;i; perfect y formed, and the promise i
that if he lives he will surpass all other
midgets in dimiiiutivencss.
The first gold mine in the United
States was discovered in South Carolina
in 1790.