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About The Enterprise. (Carnesville, GA.) 1890-1??? | View Entire Issue (Feb. 3, 1890)
VOL. I Forever Young. The wild world hastens ou its way; The gray-haired century nears its close; Its sorrow deepens day by day; The summer blush forsakes the rose. But, darling, while your voice I hear, And while your dark brown eyes I see, Bad months and sunless seasons drear Are all the same, all glad to me. Despair can never reach me, While your soft hand I hold; While your eyes love and teach me I never shall grow old. They say that love forsakes the old, That passion pales and fades awav; That even love’s bright locks of gold Must lose their charms and change to gray. But, darling, while your heart is mine, And while I feel that you are true, Forme the skies will ever shine With summer light and tenderest blue. Yes, let old age deride me! I scorn his mocking trngue; Dear love, with you beside me, I am forever young. —Belgravia. Whan Romance Was Over. Miss Dora Dwight, on her thirtieth birthday, receive! the first Iovc-lotter ef her life—the first offer of marriago. It war handed into tho dormitory of the “PUysiciaas’Orpha n’ Home’'—not, as may be suppose.!, a home for the or¬ phans doctor! lnvj mile, but for the children of decease! medical men. Miss Dwight wa! matron there, and at the moment was changing the pillow¬ cases before the wash. “I suppose it’s about Johnny Gilroy and his swelled knee,” said the servant. “DoctorEmory seems to think itwuss.” Miss Dwight, however, waited until the girl was gone before she opened the note. Then, not greatly to her sur¬ prise, she read tlie words: “My Dear Doha: You have known me since you were a baby, Do you liko me well enough to marry me? Of course, you and I have given up ro¬ mance long ago. I have had two wives. You must be thirty-two or three.” [“Just thirty,” said Dora to herself; “he is sixty-nine.’’] “You will greatly improve your position by marrying me, and I always liked you. Please meet me in the garden after hours. 1 hope to find you under the willows. Yours, hopefully. Emoisy.” “B. It was not a love-letter calculated to flatter the heart of a woman of any age. At first she said: “I wi.l refuse him." Then she remembered how good and kindly he was. “I will accept him,” said she, “hut no romance shad be in my talk with him. He shall fin l me like a stone. lie shall have the sort of wife he wants.” It was early when the door-bell claugel, aud a foot crossed the long passage, aud ceasing to echo on the painted floor, struck the stone!. E lrlier than she had expected him, but she was ready for him uuder the willows in the garden. “I am glad to find you here,” said a deep, old voice. “I thought you would be sensible enough to do what 1 asked, but I was not quite sure—not quite. No. You have read my note carefully? Yes? Well, imagine tbat I say to you again what I wrote. I await your an¬ swer with anxiety.” She looked at him, and he saw that she smiled in aa odd, embarrassed way. “Will you mirry me, my dear?” lie added. “I sec I must make it easier for you to speak.” ‘ It was a little hard to begin,” she said. “The usual reason moves me," he said. “I'm in love with you. I think it best to marry again, and I know no one liko you—uo one. I’ve had two wives before, I admit. However, neither of them complained of me, 1 bolievc. I have a very nice home, and, really, it will be a very much better po- sition for you than being matron of an institution. You do it admirably, bat I hate to see you here. Your father was older than I, but we were great friends. I think he would advise you to say ‘yes. 11 j She put her hand upon his arm. “Iam a practical woman,” she said. “If I marry you, I forfeit a good posi¬ tion that may be mine for life—an in¬ dependent position. It is dangerous.” “My dear, you’ll have half of all that is mine; and I’m not poor.’’ “You don’t think me young, I know,” she answered. “Who thinks a woman young at thirty? Bat you have four sons, hard, business men, older than I. They’ll not approve of the match.” “They arc not at horns; it can't mat- ter," said Dr. Emory. “But,” said Miss Dwight, with cruel distinctness, “the trouble will come when you die. You have made a mis- take; you arc older than poor father. If you leave me a widow', your sons will make every effovt to take every- thing from me; I shad be_ left with nothing, my place gone, my habits of industry, my briskness. I make no doubt you have heard of such cas?i; 1 have.” The suitor sat—and who can mat e-, at it?—stricken quite dumb by thi speech. At last he gasped: “You are candid.” Eh Eh T n m •‘Iam,”*ho answered—“I am. in¬ deed. Now is your time. You can take back your offer, Dr. Emory. Everything can be ns it was before. I’ll tear up your letter; I am content that all shall shall remain as it is.” “But, then,” he answered, “I am not. After all, nil you say is only true. I can face the miuiO, I hope. My an¬ swer is this: Marry me, and I will mnko a will, leavtug you everything, on our wedding day.” unjust/^shc “That would be said. “It would be a will to be contested. Leave mo a home and an income.” She named the sum sufficient to keep it up. “That is moderate—sensible. And you will say ‘yes, i a be said. “i promise, of course, I shall make it better than that, still leaving my sons no cause for complaint; but it is not iny fault that wo are not more ro¬ mantic.” “Let the romance come afterward, if it can,’’ said Miss Dwight. After this, they walked about tho garden awhile, and tho day of the wedding was set, leaving tima to find a new matron for the establishment. Miss Dwight was certainly, as domestics say, “bettering herself;” but she was not elated. In fact, a little regret stole into her heart as she walked about the place where she had beca so independent, so respectod; and wondered whether she would he happy in the future. “At least,” she said, with a degree of bitterness, “I matched him with his ‘romance is out of the question between (wo like us.’ Matched him and went further. ” The bell tinkled in the hall just as supper time was over that evening, nud in a few moment! a servant came to call Miss Dwight. “It’s a gentleman; he don’t know who he wants,” she said, “Some one who knows all about the place, he told me.” Ami Dora went into the parlor, a bare looking room, long, and with white walls, a panel carpet, a library table, a horsehair sofa and six chairs, and the portrait of the founder of tho home over the mantel-piece, There stood under this portrait, with his el¬ bow on the mirble itself, a gentleman. Dirk-eyed, dark-haired, with a face that was not so much handsome as de- lightful. Writers often spend a good deal of time in discussing what it is that men see in the women whom they fall in love with—when they say : “This is the woman for me!” I believe the woman who meets for the first time the only man on earth to whom she would willingly give herself, has deeper experiences still. The moment had come to Miss Dwiglit. She had waited 30 years for it, and now she did not know what it meant. But an unconscious smile came to her lips, a light to her soft blue eyes, a flush to her smooth cheek. She looked prettier than she could have dreamed possible of at that moment. The stranger told his business. lie had recently come from Paris, where he had been occupied in certain affairs for 10 years. Meanwhile, his brother had died, having recently lost his wife. He understood, to his astonishment, that his little nephews were in the Homo. “Of course, I wish to take charge of them,” he said. “I am a bachelor, but I can arrange for their care. They need not live on charity.” “It is not charity, ” said Miss Dwight, “Dr. Ellwood gave largely to the home in his lifetime. The chil- dreu are considered little ladies and gentlemen. They are well educated; taught the muages of good society. They wilt have a col egiate course when they leave this place. Most of the girls bee mac teachers, I think. Tho boys choose tlicir p:ofe3sion. There would be at least no need of haste in removing them.” They talked together awhile. She gathered that he was what might be called a poor man. He lingered after the boys had come and gone. He came on the morrow, and again and a ;ain. The ostensible motive was to see his nephews, but he also desired to see Miss Dwight. Meanwhile Dr. Emory called every afternoon and consulted with Dara as to the new parlor carpet aud the china, “Buy good things,” she said. “What W the use of getting a carpet that will fade soon, or china that chips; and s.l- j ver makes a table look well. “Bssides, j the things about a house belong to the | widow—if I should be left.” t i She is deuced practical, said poor Dr. Emory to himself, Til is was after (A^e new matron ar- rived and was bey drilled in her du- j ties by MUs Dwi| who calmly said before everyone;',.,^ be married shortly.’’ 1 'You see I’m to Oace he even remonstrated, saying: “Da you know, poor Nellie nlked like that; nor my dear Maria. ” “Of course not, ” said Miss Dwight, CARNESV1LLE, GA., MONDAY, FEBRUARY & 1890. •*But ycu remarked in your offer to me (of course) you and I had dona romance long ago.’’ Dr. Emory tried to laugh, but he was happy. That afternoon he took a long, long rido to the sea shore, and stabling his horse at the hotel walked down to the beach. “The season” was over, The caterers expected only a little chance custom. It was a day when driving clouds made it cool enough to be pleas¬ ant. There ho sat down behind a big mound of sand and watched tho sea and thought of Maria, and how ho used so often to kiss the back of her neck because tho two little curls looked so cunning, and how she thought him handsome; how dear they were to each other. How long his reverie had lasted ho clid not know, when merry voices sounded in his ear. A mau's tonc3, those of two little boys and a woman’s. Surely he knew the last speaker. He peeped from un¬ der his big Panama hat, and saw Dura. She had brought the Ellwood boys down for a holiday, at their uncle’s re¬ quest, and lie had come alio. Dr. Emory guessed who the gentleman was, for he had had the case of these boys laid before him, and was looking for two orphans to fill their places when they should he gone, but the presence of Mr. Ellwood gave him offence, “It has quite the air of a family party,” he said. Tho boys played about, dug with their little spades and filled with white sand those painted pails which all good picnickers buy at the seaside. They took off their shoes and stockings and waded along the edge of the water. The elder people seemed as happy as they, and how young 1 At last they sat down very near to Dr. Emory, with their backs to his sand barrow, and he saw a man's brown hand drop upon a little white one and hold it tight. Without showing himself he could not see their faces. “Do you know why I asked you to come here?’’ said the owner of Ihe brown hand. “To mind the children, as Sally says,” replied the owner of the white hand. “No, to tell you something,” said Brown Hand. “Darling little woman, prettiest aud sweetest of all created being', I have love! you from tho first moment I met you. Da you think you would mind marrying a man who has his fortune yet to make? C u d you be poor with him, aud yet be happy? You see I am poor, but I adore you and I’m selfish enougli to ask you to do just that for my sake, if you can try to love me.” The white hand flutterel. A soft voice trembled. 1 I should not have to try it,” she sobbed. “It seems to come of itself, and as for poverty, I d rather beg with you than 1 ive without you and have millions. Oh! don’t look happy, don’t look happy, dear, when we both must bo so miserable. I’m engaged; my wedding day is set. I thought I had outlived romance, aud I promised to marry an old man who only wants a lady at the head of his house. Oh! why did you not come to me one day earlier?” Silence fell. Dr. Emory heard them rise and go away. In a minute more a little boy rushed up to the sand mound and poked it with his spade. “Here's a dead man,” he said—“a droivnded dead man.” 4 ‘No; it’s a tip a y man,” replied B 1- ly. “Let’s pile sand on him.” This they proceeded to do, until Billy descried “uncle beckoning, ” and they departed on the run. After the last train had gone city¬ ward, an elderly gentleman took a sand¬ wich and some ale at the hotel before getting into his gig. He emptied a great deal of sand out of his pockets, but did not fee the waiters, and seemed to be, the cashier said, “in a tamper.’ It was Dr. Emory. He drove straight home, and sat down at the desk. “Thank Heaven, I can appear to have the best of her,” he said, spite¬ fully. “But the next time I propose to a woman I will not tell her that ro¬ mance is out of the question.” Then he wrote: “Miss Dwight: I fin an old man, but I find 1 have made a mistake. I have too much romance left in rac to ^ ou .^ ^pecuniary recompense J matron , s pIaC0 j 9 again you rs .. “Emory.” yjj 3 , Dwight only noticed tips note by packing her engagement ring in pj n k cotton aud sending it back. She did not want the matron's place, and she married Mr. Ellwood very shortly. Dr. Emory is now courting a girl of 10, who v,.w3 she adores him, and wishes very loudly that he were hers. He likes it. —New Tori Ledger. , __ j Tlie boy who is left unmolested in the pantry is likely to strike a pud- ding. TONS OF TREASURE Enormous Wealth Buried With Turkey’s Sultans. Their Tombs Containing Corns Valued at $300,000,000. The Sultan of Turkey wants money and he has none. Hu L»s none and yet ho might have plenty. Where he might find the money without having recourse to English or French capital¬ ists is what I propose to tell you, says a writer in the Pittsburg Dispatch. The treasure is to be found at a few hundred yards from the palace. There is a treasure in Constantinople, the treasure of tho “Thousand and One Nights,” Aladdin’s treasure, aud the celebrated door that will show you mines of gold and precious stone* when you bid it open. What are the Oasau- bas of Algiers, of the Maroe of Tunis, comparod to that of Stamboul? You might just as well compare a broker’s office to the Washington treasury! The immense treasure belongs to the Golden Horn, and Russia knows it well. AH Sultans are buried with their treasures and savings in a walled chamber, heueo the name of Golden Horn orCorniicupiu was given to the neighborhood of the Serail. Mahomet II., on taking possession of Constantinople in tho year 1453, in¬ herited all the treasures of the Grecian empire. Wc all know that he was a saving man, and the wealth locked up in his tomb, according to the Eastern custom, is known to be enormous. Bajuzst II. left hardly any fortune, and I think his bones had bettor be left un¬ disturbed. His successor, Selim I., made himself famous by the conquest of tho Danubiaa provinces. Ho left considerable moae7 and precious stones by tho bushel. 8olim.an II. was called the “Magnificent” because of his love for luxury and ot his ex¬ travagance. He was the Crceius of the sultans. Selim II., Animat HE, and Mehemot III. were not so fond of trea!- uring up, and yet were their vaults open, they might find money enougli for one mouth’s pay to the whole army. Achmct I. was a groat money-'.over,and his tomb, we doubt not, must be well filled. His successor, Mustaplia L, reigned only one year, It would not pay to open ar.d search his tomb. O.li¬ man II. was about as poor; and as for Amurat IV. and Imbrahim, we have somo reason to think that their tombs are empty. Mahomet IV. not worth mentioning. But Soliman III. and Achmct II. were the “Lucul- lus” of the crescent. Their tombs M’erc overfilled with gold and treasures of all kinds. Were all that wealth changed into dollars there would be enough to buy off the largest iron and steel firm in the United States. Aclimet III. made immense money by his wars and treaties with the Venetian republic. He had business abilities, as we all know, and was most successful in all his speculations. His Mailed chamber must be nice and full. Mahmoud I. well deserved liis reputa¬ tion as a greedy sultan. Ho ruled for about twenty-four years, u’hich seems incredible; lliat glorious “Commander of tho Faithful” troasured up with care even to his last day. Indian caravans brought him diamonds from Hyderabad. They said that Mahmoud I. had in- crusted on liis cimctcr Zuphalgar, the famous diamond that Emperor Baber found at Agra in 1526; that diamond we'ghs 672 carats. Pitt's diamond weighs only 137 carats. Judge then of the valuo of that of Agra! And it has been locked up with Zuphalgar ever since 1753! Is it not about time to extract thorn untold treasures from tho tombs? Othman III. was a most sober and a very quiet young man. His sole ambition was to have his tomb u’ell filled. If wc break open tho door of his vault wo are pr3tty sure to find another Crocus’ wealth. Mahmoud If., the reformer, arrived in 18)8. He enjoyed a long reign, but his reign cost him dear. He had to keep up large armies and fleets; ho fought many a battle, and his life to the last was a busy one. It is said he only left debts after him, and we are bound to believe. Let him sleep in peace. To conclude: Same $300,000,000 are locked in the tombs of the Sultans! How Monkeys are Captured. Most all monkeys which one sees iu the United States come from Girgona, a little village which is situated a short distance from the Panama Railroad. The inhabitants of this district are mostly native negroes, f<ir no white man could bear the climate without drinking plenty of whhkcy and almost continually serallowing quinine, Tne whole region is marshy and covered with extremely profuse tropical vegeta - tion. At uigiit thero arises a thick vapor laden with fever, which hangs pver the woods like a cl iu l. 1 This region of wood is the prairie of tho monkeys. They travel in troop, around the woods, lod by an older monkey. When tho people rcoalvj tho information that tho “traveling monkey troops” arc near tho villago, they repair to the woods in crowds in chase of them. Their plan is very simple. They cut a hole in a cocoauut la. go enough for a monkey’s paw. Tho nut is then hollowed out aud a piece of sugar is placed in it. A piece of string is then fastened to it, and it is placed in tho road of the approaching monkeys. It is known monkeys are very inquisitive animals. Soon enough they see the “lonesome” cocoaaut in the gras! and hurry to examine it thoroughly, It is i a curious sight to seo how they climb from the trocs, chattering, to take a good view of tho concern. It does not take them long to find out that the inner part contains n piece of sugar. One of tho boldest aud greedi¬ est sticks a paw into tho nut to get tlie sugar aud grasps it as tightly as he can. But his fist is so large that ho cannot draw it out of the hole again with (lie sugar, which ho holds fust to, coat what it may. The negroes now pull the string until nut and monkey arrivo in tho vicinity of their ambuscade. In the meantime tho other monkeys wonder what is the matter with their comrade. They hurry to see where he is being pulled to with his paw in the coconnut. They crowd around him, chattering and gest culating to their hearts' content. Now the great moment lias come. The negroes have a large net ready, and they spread it out over the unsuspecting monkeys, and before they know it they aro prisoners. They are sold to the em¬ ployes of the l’auamu Railroad, and roach the North American market through commercial dealers. Looked Death in the Face. When Dr. Charles Garcia, a well- known physician of St. L >uis, M’ho died rcceutiy, M’as a private in tho Confeder¬ ate army he had a remarkable experi¬ ence Math General Braxton Bragg dur¬ ing the retreat from C-ninth. General Bragg, then second in command to General P. G. T. Beauregard, whom he afterward superseded, M’as personally superintending tho loading of tho cars bound for tho rear. At that moment young Garcia, who was suffering from illness, passed near, looking for the cars that were to convey the sick to Tupelo. An officer called Bragg’s attention tc Garcia, and tho General ordered him to go to work at once. Garcia answered that lie was too ill to do so. With every appearance of rage Bragg shouted: “Whatl You dare to disobey my orders?” “I do,” leplied the young man. Tho Genera! called a lieutenant of a Louisiana company of regulars doing guard duty and said: “Take six of your company and carry this man to that'grove and shoot him!” The lieutenant called his men, but before going to the grove General Bragg took him aside and talked for a moment. Toe recalcitrant soldier was then taken to the grove and placed upon a stool, with his back to a tree. He refused to be blindfolded, but took out his watch, chain aud ring, wrote a name on a piece of paper and handed it all to the lieutenaut, asking that the jewelry be sent to the address given. “Now I am ready,” he said. Muskets were levelled. Tile young man looked at their muzzles as calmly as though he M’as being photographed. After a moment the lieutenant ordered ‘'Recover arms!” Hi rushed upon the youug soldier, complimented him upon bis bravery, returned his jewelry aud oidered him to go. “Where is the boy?” General Bragg asked of tho lieutenant a few minutes later. “Gone,” was the reply, and the story of the young man’s behavior was told. The General had search made for him, saying, “I’ll promote him.” But lie was not fo bo feu ad, and did not re¬ ceive his promotion .—New York Herald. The King of All Birds. There is an old legend in Europe which makes tho wren, aul not the eagle, “the king of all birds.” It tells how the eagle once challenged all the birds to a trial of high flying, the one that towered furthest aloft within a given time to reign over all tho others forever. Ha had gained tha * ‘place | nearest the sky,” and M’as about to claim the victory, when the wren, who had nestled among his feathers unob¬ served, fluttered into the air over him, and was proclaimed king by the uni¬ versal acclamation of the feathered throng. _____ Spoke to Papa, ' She (eagerly): “5\ell, dearest, did j y°" speak to papa spoke this morning? him.” He: “Yes, I to She (excitedly): “What did he >)> | He: “He said ‘Good morning. i n I Epoch. SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS. In a paper recently read before tha British A‘sociation it was ably arguod that man was naturally left-lcggc 1. A scientist estimates that tho power of Niagara Falls excaods what could bo producod by 15.), 000,000 tons of caul annually. Prof. Chandler Robert* has calculated that tho mass of London fog weighs 6000 tons, ami contains in the course of tho year $12,0)0,0.10 worth of car¬ bon. Sea suud is often unfit for buildiug, even though perfectly deprived of ils snlt, tho reason being that flic pnrticlos have been worn and polished until they aro without binding power. The fact that aluminium is easily worked, has a low specific gravity, and is practically non-corrosivo makos it nu ideal metal for compasses, transits, field and opera glassei, hand levels, etc. A physiologist in France has been ob¬ serving the working of flies iu flying, and has arrived at the conclusion that tho wings of a fly make about lliroo hundred and thirty beats per second, and that such n fly can travel at tho rate of a kilometre pec minute. It is fifteen years since tho Trappiit monks began to plant eucalyptus trees in tho Roman Campagna, Italy. Now, several hundred acres are covered with them, aud as a result, there has been a large decreaso in the malarial fevers onco so common in tho district. Soap bubbles blown with newly-gen¬ erated hydrogen gas have been found to act ns electrical condensors, tho liquid of which, whan broken, exhibited a negative chargo. It is suggested that this fact explains the so-calloil fireballs sometimes seen during thunderstorms. If tho earth should come in con¬ tact with another heavenly body of the same size the heat generated would be sufficient to molt, boil and completely vaporize a mass of ice fully 700 times that of both tho colliding worlds, or an ice planet 150,000 miles in diameter. It has boon ascerlaincd that the berry grown ou the Florida scrub palmetto has medicinal qualities. It has a sooth¬ ing effect on the mucous membrane, producing piers ng sensations in the throat and relieving soreness, coughs, citarrh aud cold in tho head. It is also beneficial in kidney Rouble. It is said to be well established that waste water can bo successfully con¬ verted into electrical energy. It can be conveyed from ten to one hundred miles on n small copper wire in .amount varying from ten to five hundred horse power. The cost docs not exceed $6500 a mile for the greater distance and the larger power. Those curious tropica! birds, the touracos—now in the Z jological Gar¬ dens, London—whose red feathers be¬ come washed out in Muter, aro matched by a Brazilian treo porcupine. This creature possesses bright yellow spines hidden by a thick coat of far, and these spine j lose their pigments just liko the touracos’ feathers, tinting the water a paio lemon-yellow. Signed With His Left Hand. The bank clerks are so often ea'led upon for directions that they fall into tho habit of giving them in a hurried and mechanical manner, consequently they are frtq iciitly mi .understood. The usual formula when a stranger is called upon to sign his name is: “Sign thero —pen anti ink at your left hand.” One day not long ago a stranger entered ono of the large banks and asked fora certifi¬ cate of deposit for a considerable roll of money M’hich he handed over, Tho clerk counted the money, found the amount to be as stated, aud hurriedly said: “Sign there, sir—pen and ink at your left baud.” It appeared to t)»« clerk that it took the stranger a long time to sign his namo, but he thought nothing more of it, and issued the cer¬ tificate of deposit. About a week later the same man reap¬ peared and presented tho certificate. As the clerk sees so Hinny faces cant day he did not remember this man whoa he asked him to sign his name. H( dashed off an ornate signature, which the clerk proceeded to compare with the first signature. Tho two M’ore vast¬ ly d.fferent, as the first one was ap¬ parently the labored effort of an old man. “I can’t pay you this money, sir,” said the clerk. “Why not? ’asked the astonished stranger. “Because this is not the signature of the man to M’hom I issued the certificate of deposit,” Mas the reply. “Js he your father or grand¬ father?” The stranger was dumb- founded. “Wheu I was here you told me to write my name with my left hand, and I did so, but l can’t M’lite that way.” Alight dawned in up in. the clerk now. “Will you write your name with your left hand now?” he asked. The mau labored hard and produced a fac simile of his first signature, and the clerk apologized and paid him his money. — Chicago Herald, NO. 5. What Is Good. “What is the real g’od?” I asked in musing mood. Order, said the law court; Knowledge, said the school; Truth, said tho wise man; Pleasure, said the fool; Love, said the maiden; Beauty, said the page; Freedom, said the dreamer; Home, said tho sage; Fame, said the soldier Equity, the seer;— Spake my heart full sadly: “The answer is not here.” Then within my bosom Softly this I heard: “Each heart holds the secret Kindness is the word.” —John Bogle O'Reilly. HUMOROUS. Board bills—Three-sheet posters. Drawing materials—Mustard-plasters. Your vegetarian thinks flesh is net meet for tho stomach. Tho favorite pursuit of tho fliwor of nobility is haughty- culture. When a young mau goes on a “tear” tho sooner he “inonds” his ways the better. The inconsistency of nature is shown when it supplies the turkey with » comb and no hair. Ho hoped to win her by his presonts, but she said his presence wasn't desira¬ ble, so he didu’t send any. Joneson—Johnson, my dear friend, I can never repay your kindness, John- son—Repay that $13 I just lent you and I'll throw iu my kindness. That tho moral nature of tho pig is essentially moan and selfish is proven by the fact that he is always willing and ready to “squeal” when ho gets into u tight place. “I see you are uot a very expart pick¬ pocket,” said the detective to the man whom he had caught in the act. “No,” the latter replied, coolly; “I am just getting m / hand in. ” “Well, luivcrl If there isn’t that blessed child a-goin’ and a-put:in'on its stockin’s wrong sideoutl” “5Vhy, of course, nurse; don’t ’oo seo dero’s a hole on de odder side?” Funny Min’s Little Bob—May I leave the room, teacher? Teacher—Way do you want to leave the room? F. M. L. B.—'Cause I can’t take it with me, o’ course. A youug lady seat in a poem en¬ titled, “I Cannot Make Him Smile,” to a newspaper, The editor ventures to expres! the opinion that she would have succeeded had she shown him the poem. Some fashionable women put dia¬ mond ring! on the tails of their pet dogs. A diamond ring ou a dog’s tail is so conspicuom that the animd is not obliged to scrnlc’i his nose with his caudal appendage to cdl attention to tho jewel. Jefferson Davis' Memory. Jefferson Davis had a memory for faces and names that has probably never been excelled by that of any public man in the United States. It lias been said of Gen. Sherman that when he meets a man who was introduced to him 20 years previously he will recall his namo and the circumstances of tho introduc¬ tion, and will talk over the incidents of their first meeting. Both Grant and Leo possessed to a great degree the Bamc facu’ty of remembrance, but nei¬ ther Sherman nor Grant nor Lee could do what Mr. Davis did. At his office iu Richmond, as President of the Southern Confederacy, aud in his visits to tho front of the aimy, he treasured up in his memory the names of every officer and soldier with M’hom he eamo into contact, aud ho never forgot them. While ho was at li;s Beauvoir planta¬ tion last winter there camo to him a M’oru-out and broken-doM’n man who made a claim on his charity as having been a lieutenant in a certain Missis¬ sippi regiment. Davis taxed his mem¬ ory for a moment aud then told tho ap¬ plicant that ho was a fraud and that a man hearing an entirely different same Mas the lieutenant of the company M’kicli tho mendicant had specified. The beggar made a quick exit from the house and Mas never seen around it again. A Crow Tamer. Charles Smith, of Concord, Vt, has . been a keeper and tamer of crows some forty years, never being without one or more of these birds. Fanny, Ids pres¬ ent pet, has been with him tM’o years. She warms herself for hours by the smithy fire, chatters M-'.dl ■ I e s 'Hammer¬ ing on the anvil, and when he is shoe¬ ing a horse, is sure to slaul at the beast’s heels. R.’tei'tly a hi rse jaut lais foot on Fanny nnd pinna 1 her down till she was ns flat as a board. She was laid on the h:arth apparently dead, but an hour afterward she shook herself up into-shape again and bg.n chattering rs usua’, though in a very equally aud melancholy tpne, M’hich lasted fore week Qf more.
