Newspaper Page Text
E SUN
■AHVIUh maut county, oa.,
AY ESS & McQILL, Editors.
/I fIptEpIDENT,
SMM
GEN. W. S. HANCOCK,
fOP PENNSYLVANIA.
FOR VICE-PRESIDENT,
HON. W. H. ENGLISH,
OF INDIANA.
-
I‘KKSI II K.VII A I. EUXIDBB,
FOR THE STATE AT LARGE:
J. c. C. BLACK, R. E. KENNON.
alternate: _ '
LUTHEP. J. GLENN, A. P. ADAMS.
district electors:
First District—Samuel I). Brad well
of Liberty, , Alternate—Jusepbu^Camp
Emanuel.
Second District—Wm. M. Hammond,
of Thomas. Alternate—Wm. Harrison,
of Quitman.
Third District—Christopher C. Smith,
of Telfair. Alternate—James Bis Lop.
Jr., of Dodge.
Fourth District—Lavender R. Ray,
of Coweta Alternate—Henry C. Came*
ron, of Harris.
Fifth District—J no. I, Hall, of Spald
ing. Alternate—Daniel P. Hill of Ful
ton.
Sixth District—Reuben B. Nlsbet, of
Putnam. Alternate—Fleming G. Du-
Bignon, of Baldwin.
Seventh District—Thos. W. Akin, cf
Bartow- Alternate—Peter W. Alexan
der, of Cobb.
Eighth District—Seaborne Reese, of
Hancock. Alternate—James K. Hines,
of Washington.
Ninth District—Wra. E Simmons,of
Gwiunett. Alternate—Marion G. Boyd,
of White.
STATE IIEMOI UATU' TICKET
i£JR GOVERNOR.:
NyiiWOOD or COLQiyTT.
’For; FU-CRFTA RY OF STATE .'
C. BARNETT, of Baldwin.
FOR COMPTROLLKR-OENEIUL :
WM. A. WRIGHT, of Richmond.
FOR TREASURER 1
D. N. SPEER, of Troup.
F()R ATTORNEY GENERAL :
CLIFFORD ANDERSON, of Bibb
i■■ m„ .f.—r .^rr,....—, ——,— *—— —■ —• —"
It Makes Trouble.
Sometimes we feel inclined to picx
flaws in the women folks, but qp second
thoughts, are made to wonder that they
areas good as*we find them. Opposing
customs were reversed, and instead of
courting the girls, the girls were to court
us? Suppose A sweet creature in bows
and ribbons and poetical drapery and
stepelmbtis should chine to see you two
or three times a week, and should dis
course by the hour on the soul-light of
your eye, th Jove-Jike grandeur of your
brow, the’ ineffable glory of your mous
tache, etc., etc., don’t vou think you
would develop into a jackanapes in less
than six. month, even if you were far re
moved from one at the start? Fact is,
we men think nothing of telling a girl
Over and over again liow much prettier
and sweeter and better every way she is
than all her sisters; and is it unnatural
that she should be goose enough to be
lieve it after a time? Who doesn’t like
to hear his own praise sung? But after
marriage these sugar-coated lies return
to plague the man that compounded
them. He has taught his wife to believe
that he can see nothing good in her sex
outside of herself. And she never for
gets her lesson, as many a married wight
could testify. But don’t blame her,
friend; she is only showing her abiding
faith in your lover-vows. The trouble
resides in you. You have ceased lying
to her.
A Freezing Future.
Henri Vivarez says: From the sum
mit of the mountain a winding sheet of
snow will descend upon the high plateaus
and the valleys, driving before it life
and civilization, and masking foTever
the cities and. nations that it meets on
its passage. Life and human activity
will press insensibly toward the inter
tropical zone. St. Petersburg, Berlin, ,
London, Paris, Vienna, Constantinople
and Rome will fall asleep m succession
under tlieir eternal shroud. During
very many ages' equatorial humanity
will undertake Arctic expeditions to
find again under the ice the place of
Paris Lyons, Bordeaux and Marseilles.
The 4a coast will have changed and the
geographical man of the earth will have
Lon transformed. No one will live and
breathe any more except in the equatir
ial zone u*p to the day when the last
f-imilv nearly dead with cold and
hunger, will sit on the shore of the last
sea in the rays of the sun which will
thereafter shine here below on an
ambulant tomb revolving aimlessly
around a useless light and a barren heat.
A Chinaman in Pari, committed sui
cut because his tormentors bad c^off
bis queue. He fastened he chenshea
braid with pins to the place t'here it
ought to grow, and jumped into the
river.
The Hartwell Sun.
By AYERS & McGILL.
AOLW. .NO. 0. . HAR'J'WTd.I., BA.. OCTOBER (!, 1880.
A rnw CtRAI HAULS.
■V VKASK MAYFIELD,
Only a fiw, hut they have come to *tnv:
My tell-tulp mirror doth aHimmiah ills
Tbnt I’m ImlLway across lilt-’,
yjff# tJhftf/* i i i rtf
H*]f way ’tin true—and lam growing gray;
1 he yeaca have vanished with a Av-hune flfw i
RliS'y ;ATrm-W*Aai alul jfgaAiV m<-#i ‘
I rammed out my
And yet -if I could have my own desire
If I could turn about and jmfrliy buck
Along life’s linaten and uncvACrick •// / J 1
And heat my blood again withNouthful lira,
I would not do So; for, within the calm
And cool delightful afternoon of yean,
Free from youth’s ardent lio|ies and bitter tears.
I hop# to had a solavo aud a balm.
—Kokomo Tribun*.
r-j't r t
t\4•*L / k I /
A HEART OF STONE.
The old clock in the Wail rang out five
melodlputvchimes, as Cora Smith softly
closed the kitchea door, and ran to the
little bedroom for her blue scarf.
“ Five o’clock/’ she said, as the last
stroke died away; “he is wondering
why I don’t £ome. aud I must haste.
Mjplge, little Madge, are you coming
with me to-night? lam all ready. !>
Little Madge, the twelve-year-old sis
ter, came flying through the hall.
“Auntiesays you have forgotten to
get the potatoes for breakfast, and we
must prepare them before you go.
Never mind if he does have to wait a
little for you; you’ve waited for him
many a time. Come quickly and I will
help you.”
So sweet-tempered Cora Smith untied
the blue scarf, and tripped away to the
forgotten task as merrily as her little
sister, albeit her heart beat like an im
prisoned bird’s afcibe delay.
The West was all aflame with the au
tumn sunset ere the sisters closed the
cottage door behind them, and ran down
the garden path toward the stile, where
he was wnitifig—in, other words, where
hazel-eyed, Corf Siiith’s
city lover was waiting for his lady-love,
as she had many a night waited for
him.
Almost every evening they met there
at the stile—their “ tryst in g place,” lie
said, just half-way between her home
and his boarding-house. He bad pro
posed it, and she was nothing loth to
accede—it was so pretty and roman
tie. ■■ "■■■—
Then, Auntie Smith was not at all
trriiU Uilo
stranger, ami though /she had lot fos
- him house, both Lovers knew
she preferred “his room to his com
pany.” And so, always with dear little
Madge at her side, she daily tripped
down tho path through the leafy woods
to the half-way trysting place where she
met her handsome, dark-eyed lover,
Neil Rowan. How her heart fluttered
to-night as she thought of him! and the
warm love-light deepened and darkened
the soft bro wn eyes I
“Neil, Neil,” she said, almost uncon
sciously, aloud; anJ little Madge clasped
her sister’s hand closer, ffnd looked up
in her face.
“ Do you love him so very much sister ,
Cora?”
A swift, hot color came into the girl’s
cheeks, and then she paused suddenly,
holding the fiands of little Madge in a
fervent grasp.
“Love him! love him! Madge? better
than all the world —better than my
youth, my life —aye, sometimes better
than my hope of heaven! And I want
to be bis wife, little Madge, tlm good
man’s wife, when the beautiful Bpririg
comes. 1 sliail leave you, and auntie
and uncle to be his. But this is our
secret, little sister, and Only, you can
share it.”
And then her hands relaxed their
hold, and drawing the light'scarf over
her shoulders, the pair tripped slightly
on. They were almost there—nearing
the edge of the wood, and the stile was
but a step away. Another step for
ward, and then Madge held her sister
back.
“ Wait?” she whispered; “lean see
two men on the seat, Cora. We do not
want to see strangers tliere.”
“ No, she said drawing back in the
wood; “it is Neil’s friend, Willis Dean.
We will wait until he goes for I do not
ike to meet him.”
Even as she spoke the figure arose,
and the sound of the voice came on the
twilight air. distinct and clear.
“ And what of this love affair, friend
Neil? When is it to end, and how?
Are you really in earnest, and do you
mean to marry the girl?”
Cora Smith’s hand closed upon the
arm of Madge till she shrank in pain
while they waited for the answer. Neil
Rowan laughed softly.
“ Marry her!” he repeated. “ She is
just the subject for a grand flirtation,
and I assure you I have done the thing
well. But for anything further—bah!
I am going back to town to-morrow,
and this is our last meeting; so be off,
old fellow, for 1 expect her every mo
m Just for one moment Madge Smith’s
heart stood still in awful fear, for she
thought that Cora was dying. That
white, ghastly face there in the twilight,
that motionless figure, those tightlv
locXed hands, it surely was not the fair
Bweet maiden of a moment before. But
the spasm passed ofl, and without a
word, she arose, and glided noisiessly
away, and Madge followed her in
|li6DC6> •
* Neil Rowan waited until the light
had all died out in the West, and the
dew lay like summer rain on the grass
l at his feet. His cigar was smoked
down to ashes, and hi* lazy reverie
r *.rrr tr "re
was broken by the cry of the whip-poor
will.
“She isn’t coming to-night/* he said
meutally ; “ that is certain. The schem
ing auntie .up ypnder managed tq pru
vfcptitthie time. Oh, well, At sftvewri
scene. I will drop a loving farewell
note, and so it ends—a summer’s amuse
ment. Hal hum!” and jieil Itoyan
strolled Mometfafu, slngihg half Uncon
sciously, “ I won’t have her, I know—l
won/t l lave her, i know —l don’t care a
■tdiaw whoduns W&r, I know.”
Tint farewell note came to Cora Smith
the following night, but the fever-bright
eyes never rested on tne creamy page,
for, ere the insane light gave place to
reason again, death sealed the white
lids. To such pfttdre# 'fcsTthik girl’s,
love is life? and ' the Ttldei blbw that
woke her from the one bright dream
if her youth, snapped the tender cord
that boUnit her frail spirit to earth, and
out of the depths of her awful grief, the
kindly hand of death led her.
Day.bvMav, Week by week, months,
ho sped the time until eight years were
counted. Eight times the grass had
grown over the littiegiave in the lonely
country graveyard, and again the Oc
tober winds rustled the scarlet leave#
over the narrow mound. kt
Wonderful changes had the eight
years brought. Bide by side with this
grave were two others, and the head
stones bore the names of good Aunt and
Uncle Smith. They hail rested there
six vears; and every summer bearrtiful
Madge Smith came down from fclFcit,v
mansion, and lingered In the old home
a week, trimming the grasses and plant
ing bright flowers on the mounds.
Bright, beautiful Madge Smith, the
heidfess of all Uncle pniilit’s luddw
Wealth, the wealth be guarded so well
during'that toil-worn, weary life.
Three years before, Madge Smith left
school, to reign queen of society. Beau
tiful, strangely beautiful, with that
cold, white,, high-bred face, those wide,
fathomless, glittering Amber eyes, ft
figure matchless in symmetry* and grace,
accomplished, polished, and the heiress
of great Wealth, ho Wonder that lovers
old and young, kuelt at Madge Smith’s
shrine. A strange the world
said, that all were scor'nfri—not gently
and with words of pity and apology,
but •spurned'‘from her very feet with
Bcornful lips and blazing eyes.
Aye, Madge Smith was an enigma
and mvst II who knew her. No
warmer friend, no brighter companion
Util nt.,..JV*o£ }. .
never We those lips sees to smile, or
those wojhdefful eyes to jtoften, in re
sponse ter any lover’sherglaciet more
frigid than she to all men. All, did I
say? Nay, Dame Rumor had plenty of
gossip just now. Only a few weeks
since anew rival appeared On the scene
of action. Neil Rowan, merchant and
millionaire, entered the list of Madge
Smith’s adorers—not for wealth, surely
Madame Grundy acknowledged graci
ously. He had Enough of his own. ft
was genuine love that, this blase man of
society felt for beautiful Madge. Aud
a Wonderful change had come over tlio
fait lady since his appearance, , Bright
before, she was brilliant new—sparkling
witty, bewildering; and the world looked
on in amazement to see the flush stain
her cheek, and the bright smile that
lighted her eyes at his approach.
. Anil did he not recognize her, you are
wonderiug? Nay, how should lie?
Sweet Cora Smith aha -the sutamer ln
the county were forgotten things with
this man.* He had broken half a dozen
s’lly I marts since then, aad left them all
with time, the great healer. He had
flirted with society's queens, aud village
maidens, innumerable, and left the past
all behind him. And now he came and
laid the first pure, real love of his life
time at this woman’s, feet. So he told
her, one autumn night, in the grand
parlor of her stately home.
How her hands trembled and her eyes
shone as she listened.
“Wait,” she said, “ I will give you
my answer to-morrow night; it is my
birthnight, and I shall give au entertain
ment. A r hU will come; I will'answei
you then. Be in the library at ten, and
you shall hear my. answer.
And the night came and he was there
waiting. He paced the room impa
tiently. Would she ever come, this
girl that was dearer to him than life?
Ay, she was fife to him. The world
had seemed Btale > favorless, until
he met her, the woman who, alone of
all her sex, had ever stirred the slum
bering passions of bis heart. How
bright the - future seemed I He was so
sure of her answer; had not she given it
in so many words?
“My beautiful, my queen 1” he said,
softly. And iust then he heard the
light ripple of a woman’s laugh in the
adjoining room. Her laugh ;he knew
it among a thousand; and her voice;
she was speaking loud and clear.
“ There, Guardie; you must let ms go
now. Mr. Rowan is waiting for me in
the library. You know I am to give
him his answer to-night.”
And the guardian’s voice, speaking
tenderly, said: .
“ And that answer, I can guess it, lit
tle Madge. You are going to marry
this man, and leave us all.”
She laughed, softlr
“Marry him? No, indeed, sir? He
is iust the subject for a grand flirtation.*
and L assure you .1 have acted my part
well; but for anything further —bah!
But he is expecting me, so by-by till I
come again,” she tripped lightly
through the half-open door, ere the
amazed guardian could utter a sylable.
A white, ghastly, shivering, figure
stood bv the window.
“ For God’s sake, Madge Smith, tell
! me you were but jesting!” he cried, as
Devoted to Hart County.
Official salaries are very low in Ger
many compared with those in England.
The e ; iitire salary of the imperial Jqm-
Ctlkir, Prinoe aU Sources
both as Prussian minister ;fnd chancellor
of the empire, is only 54,000 marks
($13,500). The highest salary of a Prus
sian cabinet minister is 30,000 marks.
Pensions are on the same moderate scale.
'Hi ey are settled dli analogous princi
ples to those which govern the English
civil-service pension system, the pension
amounting to as many eightieths of the
salary which was being received at the
time ©f retirement a Hivre-Imve beeir
; &!WfcVTti£
service in all wises where misconduct
lias not called for censure. But where
the salary exceeds 12,00(1
only T l\#j\p4f, of. such excess is lakeu
into account. Dr. Vafk. the retiring
minister of public works and education,
entered the service of (hit btatc in 1847.
He has consequently thirtyubree years
of public service plus ten. Ilissalury as
minister was 30,000 marks, which be-'
comes reduced to 24,000 for the purpose
of estimating liis pelision, which will be
42.8 U of this amount, or little over tho
half, viz., 13,200 marks ($3,300).
About the Pulse.
Many erroneous impressions prevail
about the pulse as indicative of health
or disease, a common notion being that
its heatings are much more regular and
uniform than they really are. Frequency
varies with age. In (he new born infant
tin - heatings are front 130 to 140 to the
minute, in tho sßOoSid yeur, from 100 to
] 15; from the seventh to the fourteenth
year, from $0 to 90; from the fourteenth
to the twenty-first year, from 75 to 85;
from the twenty-first to the sixtieth year,
from 70 to 75. After that period the
pulse is generally thought to decline,
(Hit medical authorities differ radically
on this point, having expressed the most
contradictory opinions. Young persons
are often found whose pulses are below
GO, and there have been many instances
of pulses habitually reaching 100, or not
exceeding 40, without apparent disease.
ge:- M especially in adults, influences (he
pulse, which m women is from 10 to 14
beats to the minute more rapid than in
men of the same age. Muscular exertion,
even position, materially alfecta the
pul.se. Its average frequency in health
men of 27 is, when standing, 81; when
sitting,7l; when laying, is GO per minute;
ip women of the same age m the same
position, 91, 84 and 79. In certain
diseases—acute drojiey of the brain lor
example—there may be 150, even 200
beats; in other kinds of diseases, such as
apofdexy and some organic affection of
the heart there may be no more than 20
qj- 30 to the minute. Thus, one ol the
: Commonest diagnostic signs is able to de
ceive the most experienced practi
tioners. *
A Queer Discovery in a Tree.
During the gale in Augjist last a large
button ball or sycamore tree was blown
down near the residence -of Governor
Douglas, near Middletown, Conn. It
war- given to a man vdio cut it bp for
fire-wopd. In doing so he found imbed
ded in the -trunk, fifty-nine inches in
diameter, an o(d horseshoe with nails
in one side. It Was twenty-two inches
from the bark or outer edge of the tree,
the wd of which is perfectly sound.
r j> ~ tree is known to be more than one
nu'ndred arid thirty years old, and it is
estimated that the shoe has been imbed-
ded in it one hundred and ten years,
i In ye olden time it was a customary
thing to nail, old horseshoes to trees for
! hitching homes to, and it is supposed
that this one. was nailed there for this
i purpose, and that as the tree grew it en
; cased the shoe in it. • Mr. Douglas’
house formerly belonged to the Mather
family. A brick building used to {stand
l in the corn** of the .lot-where the
i Mathers had their office, and the pro
j bability is that the tree was used as a
i bitching-po.t.
bri-Jiautly, growingly beautiful, she
glii eil into the room.
"Not so, my friehd,” she answered,
lightly; “I spoke the truth. If you
overheard my words, I need not.repeat
Jt i* my answer”
But vou gave me hopt you led me
on; you have given me reason to thiuk
vou loved me,” he cried, passionately.
“It is the dnw low of 'my life I I have
centered eVefy hope and thought in you,
Madge Smith, and, for my sake, for
Goers sake, do not wreck my life I”
She was pale now, and her eyes were
bla Jr and glistening.
" Neil Rowan,” she 8ald ( slowly, “I
havH prayed for this hour for eight
yea:#; but never iu my wildest dreams
did I think my praxes would fi<. fully
answered. WhoiT i/Ai# A# Hue’o’f
death, the white agony on my only sis
ter’s cheek—when I saw her writhe : A
speechless agony at the words she heard
eight years ago to-night, 1 vowed to
aveDge her. Again, when t heard the
thud of the eajth Upon bet coffin, I
vowed that vow: it has been brought
about, eveii sonnet. more Cbtfipleta, than
I had thought. If I have given you
one hour of such agony as she suffered.
lam content If you could live auu
suffer it fif cYn tless ages, I should be
hewer contend’d. My work is ended.
Good-mighti”
Two hours afterward, the sharp ring
of a pistol rang with startling distinct
ness through the crowded drawing room.
All sprang to their feet, save Madge
Smitu. Perhaps- her cheek paled a
little— l -cannot tell; buA the light of
her eye never changed, her smiling lips
never relaxed, as she gazed upon the
blood-stained corpse in the library.
Neil Rowan had taken his own life, and
£)ora Sjnith was avenged.
I ’ )
Official Salaries.
ifloraton TtaiiacripL]
$1.50 Per Annum
WHOLE NO. ‘ill.
A Huso Proposition.
A Wilkes Barro dx-banker, who bus
the reputation of living a ham pay, was
waited u|hiu the other day by a man
who began:
“ Mr. Brown, I bold your note for #7fi.
It is long past due, and I wantid to see
what you would do alniut it.”
“My iv.*te? Ah, yes, this is iny note.
For value received 1 promise to nay, ami
so forth. Have you been to the note
•havenwith this?'’
“ I have, but none of them would liavo
it”
“ Wouldn't eh? Ami you tried the
banks? '
“ Je#, sir, but they wouldn’t look at
it”
“ Wouldn’t, eh? And you went toft
justice to#eo about it?”
“ 1 did, but bo said a judgment
wouldn’t lie worth a dollar.”
“Did, eh? And now what proposition
do you wish to make?”
“ This is ypnr note for $75. Give iuo
fi, nftd you can have it.”
“ Fite (lolUfs! No sir] No sir! I have
no money to throw away, sir.”
“ But it is your own note.”
“'True, sir; very true, but I’m not
such art Idiot as to throwaway money on
worthless securities, fto matter who signs
tlnetn. I deal only in first-class paper,
sir, ami when that note has a negotiable
Value I will be pleased to discount it.
Good day, str —looks like settled weather
again.”
\Vrapping Food in Paper.
It is ©matter of daily experience on the
part of every one who purchases such
common necessities of life as butter,
bacon, cheese, sausages, etc., that these
goods are almost invariably wrapped up
in printed or manuscript pii|>er. Per
haps we mightalHo say that provisions for
picnics and other hampers are stowed
away in similar coverings, and it will
therefore not lxi amiss if we call attention
to the fact that danger lias been discov
ered to In rk in these familiar wrappings.
In, tho case of printed paper, tho clmr
ae(ers have often boon transferred to the
chpese or butter, and either they aro cut
away by the observant (look or they are
unnoticed, and in due course become
assimilated in the process of satisfying
hunger. It is supposed that tho ink or
thf paper itself may possibly by some
chance contain something deleterious.
But written paper is even more likely to
be hurtful, inasmuch as In writing the
"paperh.-ts been ih Close contact with the
poles of tile paper and may there IVr
munt, not with advantage 1o health in
the event of any portion of the mini
i useript being allowed to accompany the
food down unsuspecting throats. This
subject lias called forth some correspond
ence iu certain German papers, and
though we would not attach absurd im
jxirtanee to it, it may still lx- said that
eh an unused paper is so clu-ap that pro
vision dealers nave small excuse lor
usingeßlier printed or written matter for
wrapping up their commodities.
Wanted to Stop flic Interest.
| A litany Jltwi.)
f)A7iiul Webster once dined with ;in
old Boston merchant, and when they
came to the wine a dusty old bottle was
carefully decanted by John and passed
to the host. Taking the bottle, he poured
out Mr. W ebsler’sglass and handed it to
him. Then pouring out another glass
for himself he held it to the light and
said: •
“How do you like it, Mr. Webster.”
“] think it a fine specimen of old
port.”
“ Now, can you guess what it cost
me?” said the host.
“Surely not,” said Mr. Webster, “ I
only know that it is excellent.”
“Well, now, J can tell you, for I made
a careful estimate the other (lay. When
J add the interest to the first price, I find
that it cnst me the sum of one dollar and
twenty emits per glass.”
“Good gracious! you don’t say so,”
said Mr. Webfffer, and then draining his
glass he presented it again witli the
remark:
“ Fill it up again as soon ns you can,
for I- want to stop that confounded in
terest.”
Two (Iharades.
i From Tampl* Bw-J
Lady Bponcer, in one of her pleasant,
unaffected letters to Garrick, says they
have been writing charades at Devon
shire House, and her daughter has “out
done” him—inclosing one on the word
“ blockhead ” as a specimen:
•< My first no lit* or (ee!in blorees,
My wssind wry sense possesses,
Aikl nothing morn affronts my second
Than when ft like my first is reckoned.
United they a being show,
The greatest nuisance that wo know.
This is very desirable for a Duchess of
nineteen, but the most elegant ever com
posed, for its brevity, wus an impromptu
of which she was the theme, (killing
one day on Fox for a charade: “On what
subject?” he asked. “ Tho happiest of
all subjects—myself,” was the laughing
reply. Taking up an envelope Fox
scribbled these lines on the back.
“ My first is rayswl/, in a verr short word-
My second is a playthlun and you aro uiy third;
the answer being “ Idol.” Another time
the conversation during dessert turning
on the skill of the French in emblems,
the Duchess said she thought it would
be impossible to find an emblem for her.
Fox instantly handed her a cluster of
grapes, with the motto “Je plait jutcjif
a P ivrette .” _
Instructor in Latin.—'“Mr. 8., of
r what was Ceres the Goddess?” Mr. B.—
“She was the Goddess of .Marriage.”
Instructor.—“ Oh, no; of agriculture.”
Mr. B. (looking perplexed)—“ Why, I’m
sure my book say* he wa the Goddeu
! of Husbandry.”
From (t Don (Juliots.”
Here aro a few extracts from “ Don
Quixote:” t
Beauty in a modest woman is like a
fire or sword at u ilistuueo; neither doth
the one burn nor the other wound those
that come not too dose to thorn.
Keep your uumth shut and your eyes
open.
The absent feel and fear every ill.
Sdf-praise depreciates.
The dead to tne bier ami the living to
good ehcer.
All women, let them be ever 0 homely,
are pleased to hear themselves celebrated
for their bflftUty.
Squires and knights-errnnt are subject
to much hunger aud ill-luck.
Liberality may lai curried too far iu
those who have children to inherit, from
them.
Virtue is always more persecuted by
the wicked than beloved oy the right
eous.
Every one is tho sou of' his own
works.
Honey is not for the mouth of an
ass
No padlock, bolts, or bars can secure
a maiden so well as her own reserve.
Wit aud humor belong to genius
alone.
The wittiest person in a comedy is he
who plays the fool.
There is no book so bad but that some
thing good may be found in it.
We are all as God made us, and often
times a great deal worm.’.
Let tho lieu live, though it bo with a
We can not all be friars, and various
are the paths by which God conduct#
the good to heaven.
Covetousness bursts the bng.
li is I'lisy the undertake, but more diffi
cult to finish, a thing.
The term is equally applicable to all
ranks: whoover is ignorant is vulgur.
By the streets of “ By-and-By ” one ar
rives at the house of “ Never."
Between the yeH and no of a woman I
would not undertake to thrust the point
of a pin.
Patience and shuffle the cards.
A soldier had better smell of gun
powdor than musk.
Other men’s wants are easily borne.
A bad coat covers a good drinker.
Pray devoutly and hammer on
stoutly.
When a thing is once liegun it is al
most half finished.
I-ay a bridge of silver for a flying
enemy.
The jest that gives pain is no jest.
IHe • Pat” 4 111 the British Army.
Archibald Forbes, the famous war
corresjmmlent, declares that ho was
saved by the “ cat,” which it is now
proposed to abolish from the British
Army. Twenty years ago lie enlisted
in a cavalry regiment. Young, full sf
spirits, ami not destitnte of money, be
was scandalously often in trouble. At
length an escapado got him placed for
u month Iu the Sheffield Provost. Ho
was not cured however. Again, brought
before his commanding officer, he was
asked if he knew he was a second class
man. No, lie knew nothing about it.
“Well,” said he, “ you aro, as such, liable
to !*• flogged, and the next time you
orbes never again came before him,
ami is now so full of love for the “ cat ”
that he pleads for its retention. The
J’Uot reports that its editor, Jonn Boyle
O’Reilly, had an almost similar experi
ence. At eighteen years of age he en
listed in a liu/./.ar regiment, and, in the
strength and wildness of youth, begau
a reckless course. One day a friendly
old bergeant said to him, as be was
marched to the guard room: “You’ll
destroy yourself, youngster, if you
don’t stop. 'Die next time the Colonel’s
in bad humor lie’ll court-martial you,
and you’ll be flogged.” The word clung
to O’iteilly’s mind and appalled him
into steadiness. But, unlike the Eng
lish brother in literature, lie regards
th© “cat” with horror, and considers
its me more degrading and demoraliz
ing on soldiers who witness it than
would be the death of the defaulter.
Foot Rlrls.
Unlike many foolish Christians, the
Jews teach their children, girls ns well
as boys, some occupation by which tlicv
niay earn a living. An exchange incul
cates a similar practice upon all parents.
The poorest girls in the world are
those who have never been taught to
work. There aro thousands of them.
Rich parents have petted them; they
have been taught to despise labor, and
depend upon others for a living, and aro
perfectly helpless.
The most forlorn and miserable wo
men upon earth Ixdong to this class. It
belongs to parents to protect their
daughters from this deplorable condi
tion. They do them a great wrong if
they neglect it. Every daughter ought
to be taught to earn her own living.
The wheel of fortune rolls swiftly round;
the rich are very likely to become poor,
and the jxxir rich. Skilled to lalxir is no
disadvantage to the rich, and is indis
pensable to the poor. Well-to-do parents
must educate their children to work.
No reform is more imperative than thia
An Invention in Waltzing.
Olive Logan in one of her letters
writes: “ 1 heard of a rather amusing
re ply given the other evening at a ball
by an American girl in London society,
who had strayed away from the ball
room. Her mother subsequently dis
covered her in a remote nook with a gen
tleman who had his arm around her
waist, while she rested the tips of her
pretty little fingers on his manly
shoulder. ‘ Daughter, what’s all this!”
exclaimed the irate mamma. The daugh
ter looked up calmly, and repled:
“ Mamma allow me to introduce Captain
X. to you. I had promised him a dance,
but I was so tired that I couldn’t keep
my word, and I'm just giving him a sit
ting-still waltz instead.”
Mies Dill sued Mr. ■ arrison at Fay
brook, Conn., for SIO,OOO, because lie
failed too keep his promise of marriage.
She testified that she was 21 years old
and he fiO She loved him she said, not
withstanding the difference in their ages,
though she was greatly shocked when
she learned how old he really was. She
supiKised him to be about.forty until lie
took off a black curly wig, and showed
a small reinn -nt of gray hair. Sho
fainted at. the sight, hut afterwards be
come reconciled to him. Then he in turc
grew cool.