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VOL. I.
The Heights and Hie Valley.
He stood in the valley with eager eyes
Turned to the peaks where the sunshine
lay.
“O, for the heights that are near the skies,
The glorious heights that are far away,”
He cried, and ever his longing grew
To climb the steeps till the heights were
won,
And ever a wild unrest broke through
The daily tasks that must be done.
“It must be lonely on those far heights,”
Said the friend he told of his wild desire.
“Better the valley of old delights;”
But the heart of the dreamer was all on
lire
With the thought of reaching the hills afar,
And he would not tarry with friends of
old,
But followed the flash of ambition's star.
And climbed up the mountains bleak and
cold.
There were rocky places where feet must
bleed;
There were awful chaSms where danger
lay;
Through nights of darkness and days of
need
Towards the peaks he longed for lie took
his way.
And newer, nearer the peaks of snow
Each day the climber in rapture drew,
Forgetting the valley that lay below
And the valley friends who were kind and
true.
At last’the terrible heights wore scaled;
Alone on the desolate peaks stood he.
In the moment of triumph his courage
failed,
And his heart turned valley ward longing-
ly.
O, to hear the voices of friends again,
To clasp a band that was warm and true 1
O, to love and bo loved, and to sha.e with
men
The little joys that the valley knew!
Vetter the valley with peace and love
Than the desolate heights some souls at¬
tain.
Lonely is life on the hills above
The valley lands and the sunny plain.
What is fame to love? Can it satisfy
The longing and lonely hearts of men ?
On the heights they must hunger and starve
and die.
Come back to the valley of peace again.
— EbenE. Jtexford, in Youth'* Companion.
“Fifty Cents a Ticket."
BY AMT RANDOLPH.
She was spreading towels and table-
cloths on the crisp, short grass to
bleach, when he saw her first—a slim,
Diana-like young creature, with large,
limpid eyes, a Brown skin not entire y
innocent of freckles and a mass of jet¬
ty shining hair, which had broken loose
fnom its coarse horn comb, and fell in
uk-black ripples down her back.
There was a little brook twining its
transparent sparkles around tho gnarled
roots of an ancient tree, and a back-
ground of black-grcen laurel, which,
with the sun-bathed meadow in front,
made a sort of rustic picture that struck
Paul Gessner's artistic fancy ns he
crossed the wooden bridge.
“1 should like to sketch hor,” he
thought to himself. “I wonder, now,
what she would say to it!”
But before ho could get his pencil
and mill-boards out the young D ana
had poised her empty basket lightly on
her head and she was gone.
“Pm sorry for that,” soberly pon¬
dered Gessner. “She had a brilliant
Charlotte G'orday sort of a face that
would have stood the test of perpetua¬
tion on paper!”
Aud then Mr. Gessner went into the
iun and set himself at wore to elabo¬
rate the notes of his lecture on “Tho
Literature of Queen Anne’s Time”
which was to be delivered the next
evening at the village hall.
There were plenty of people at the
inn. Brookbridge was a wild, sylvan
sort of place, which attracted people in
the summer season. Every farm house
and cottage in the vicinity was crowd-
ed, and a “Lecture” was something to
stir the quiet stagnation of their every¬
day life. Moreover, Paul Gessner had
a reputation for scholarly polish and
graceful wit, which had reached even
to Brookbridge, and everybody was
talking of the Lecture.
“Can't I go?’’ said Natty Purple.
* ’Oh, I wish I could go 1”
The towels and table-cloths wero all
bleached whiter than snow, between
the daisied grass and the July sunshine,
and Natty was sprinkling and folding
them now, with quick, deft fingers, iu
an obscure corner of the kitchen.
“You go, indeed!” said Mi*s Carrie
Podham, who condescended to wait at
table during the crowded season.
‘•You’ve too much to do iu the kitchen,
and besides, the tickets are fifty cents
each!”
Natty Purple sighed dolorously.
“Fifty cents'.” she repeated. “Oh,
then of course it’s out of the question!”
[ For Natty’s slender wages were all of
them expended in the support of a
good-for-nothing old grandaire who,
when he was not drinking whisky, was
suffering unheard-of agonies with the
rheumatism- She never wore anything
i b'ut calico, and drudged away in the
inn kitchen, like a modern CinderclU
without any of the eclat which, in
story, appertained to that young
J rsr. .
\ But, later in tfie evening, the head
THE ENTERPRISE 4
•tableman looked into the kitchcB
where Cinderella was darning a well-
worn table napkin, and Mrs. Podham
was preparing brook-trout for a break¬
fast for the morrow’s early travellers.
“Where’s Jim?” said the head stable-
man.
“Gone out,” said Mrs. Pgdham,
curtly.
*‘I want some one to row one of the
boarders out on tin lake,” said the
stableman. ‘‘IIo’s a picter painter, 1
guess. Ho wants moonlight effects, he
says” (with a chuckle). “I’d a deal
rather hcv feather p llow effects, my¬
self. Then whore is Dick?”
“Dick never’s on hand when he's
wanted,” Mrs. Podham repliod. “I
heven’t seen him since supper.”
“Then he’ll lose a fifty-cant job, ” said
the stableman. “Well, I s'pose 1 can
hunt up seme one, sombwhere. ”
“Fifty cents!” cried Natty Purple,
springing to her feet. “I’ll go,
The.mas I I'm handy with tho oars,
and I’m just perishing for a breath of
cool air from the water.”
“Them napkins isn’t mended,”
croaked Mrs. Podham, dbcouragingly.
“I’ll finish ’em when 1 come back,”
said Natty, coaxingly. “Do let me
go, just this once!”
So that when Mr. Gessner came out
to the edge of the lako with his pic¬
turesque Spanish cloak thrown across
one shoulder, and his sketching ap¬
paratus under his arm, Natty Purple
sat in the boat ready to row him
whither he would go.
“Hallo!” said Paul. “Why, you’re
a giri!
“Ye?, Pm a girl,” apologetically
confessed Natty. “But I’m a good
hand to row, and I know all about the
lake. I can take you straight to Echo
Cove, where the waterlilies grow
thickest, and past the Old Indian
Rick, and—”
“Agreed,” said Paul, good-humored-
ly. “But was there no man about the
place to undertake this disagreeable
job?”
“Ob, it isn’t disagreeable,” said
Natty, earnestly. ‘I like to row!
And, besides, I do so much want to
cam fifty cents.”
“Do you?” said Paul, as the little
boat, propelled by Natty’s skilful
strokes, vanished into the deep shad¬
ow of the overhanging birches that
fringed the lovely tides. “May I ven¬
ture to a3k why?”
“Oh, yes,” said Natty, ‘It’s no
secret. I want to go to the lecture to¬
morrow night.”
Paut Gessner smiled to himself in the
moonlight, as he sat there like a Span¬
ish gondolier.
“Do you suppose it will be so very
interesting?” said he.
“Interesting!” echoed Natty. “Of
course it will be. Haven’t you heard?
Mr. Gessner is to deliver a lecture on
the “Literature of Queen Anne’s
Time.”
“And who is Mr. Gessner?” demand¬
ed the young man.
“If you don’t read the magazines, of
course you can’t be expected to know,”
said Natty Purple, with some natural
impatience. “But I have read every¬
thing he writes. He is stopping at our
place now, they tell me.”
“Is he?” said Paul. “You aro the
landlady’s daughter, I presume?”
“No, I am not, ” acknowledged hon¬
est Natty. “I help in the kitchen. I
am Natalie Purple.”
“Well, then, to bo honest with you,
Miss Purple,” said Paul, really feeling
a sting of conscience, “I am Paul
Gessner!”
Natty gave such a start that the boat
careened dangerously to one side.
“You!” she cried.
“Yes, 1! Now, if you will tako mo
safe to the Echo Cove, I will give you
a complimentary ticket. So, there!'’
“No,” said Nattie, with true woman¬
ly pride, “1 accept no favors, even
though I am nothing but a working
girl. If I am to have a ticket at all, 1
prefer to earn it.”
Paul was silent. In truth, and in
fact, he felt a little ashamed in the
presence of this flute-voiced, indepen¬
dent young beauty.
“You must have read a great deal,’
said he, at last.
“Oh! I have,” said Natty. “We are
not so busy in winter, you see; and be¬
sides, all the girls lent mo their news¬
papers and magazines. But I never ex-
pected to see a gentleman who wrote
books.”
“I hope he comes up to your expecta¬
tion,” said Paul.
“I must have time to make up my
mind about that,” said Natty, with all
good faith.
And once again our hero found him¬
self at a loss for something to say.
But when he came out into the moon-
bathed glories of the Echo Cave, where
all the world was steeped in silver soft-
ness and the matted masses of water-
lilies were swinging to and fro on the
I ides like emerald carpets, his loague
was loosened once agaiu, and before
they came back he and Natty Purpie
CARNESVILLE, GA., MONDAY, MARCH IT. 1890.
were on terms of tho pleasantest ac¬
quaintanceship.
But he had not skotched half as much
as he had expected.
“The light was so uncertain,” he
said, “ho could reproduce it better by
tho next day’s memory.”
Natty went to the lecture with her
fifty-cent piece, and listened with a
grave and critical intentners, which
spurred Paul Gessner on to his’ highest
elocutionary effects.
“It wa3 very good,” she said, the
next day, “very good indeed. It has
given mo something to think about.
And, oh! dear, I have so much time for
thinkingl’’
“Natty,” said Mr. Gessner (everybody
called tho girl “Natty” here). “I have
been wondering why you stay here at
all.”
“Where else shou'd Istay?” she ques¬
tioned him with a simple directness.
“Why do you not go to Boston -and
teach school?” he questioned.
“Oh!” cried Natty, clasping her
hands eagerly, “do you think there
ovould be any possibility of my obtain¬
ing a situation there?”
“We must see what can bo done,’’
said Paul, reflectively.
So Grandfather Purple was left in
charge of a thrifty neighbor, and stayed
by himself that winter, while Natty
went to Boston to try her luck in one
of the grammar schools. In the spring
she came back, apparently transformed
into a new creature.
‘•I didn’t want you,” growlel th®
old man. “Tho Widow Malloy takes
good enough care of me. To tell you
the truth, avo was married last week,
and Mrs. Purplo she don’t want no
step-granddarters around.”
“Oh, grandfather, I am so glad?”
cried Natalie, turning pink and white
in one breath. “Because I am not com¬
ing back to stay. Mr. Gessner—’’
“Oh, I understand,” said Grand¬
father Purple, chuckling hoarsely.
“You’re going to be married, too.”
‘•Yes,” said Natty, “I’m going to be
married.”
Thus ended the little Brookbridge
idyl. Natalie was happy. So was Paul
Gessner. As for Grandfather Purple
and his elderly bride, let us hope that
they were not very unhappy. For the
roses and nightingales of life cannot bo
enjoyed by every one, and the spring-
tide of the world comes but once.
The Haunted Pitcher.
About five miles from Aiken, S. C.,
ob the Charleston dirt road, and in
sight of the railway, is a little place
that was first christened Polecat, but
afterwards changed to Montmorenci,
the French for that odorous little ani¬
mal. Many years ago a young woman
came with her pitcher to draw a
bucket of water from a well at Mont-
raorenci, and set the vc3sel back in tho
hollowed top of a stone post that some
of the railroad men had moved there.
While drawing water a flash of light¬
ning caino and struck the chain to which
tho well bucket was attached and the
woman was killed in her tracks. Her
remains were removed, but the pitcher
was left just where the dead girl had
set it. To thi3 day the pitcher remains
in the same place, and so far from being
removed, it is said that no living
hand has ever touched it save its own¬
er’s, although near the side of the pub¬
lic road. But the most wonderful thing
is the superstition attached to tho
pitcher. There is an indescribable in¬
fluence surrounding it that prevents its
being touched.
Hundreds of people have gone with
the firm determination of lifting the
pitcher, but when they approach it a
strange repugnance comes over them,
and they hurriedly depart without car¬
rying out the object of their visit.
One night a bully in the neighborhood
while under the influence of whisky
made a bet with some friends that he
would go and bring back the pitcher.
He left to do so, but soon returned
as pale as a sheet and empty handed.
“Boys," he remarked, “no person alive
can lay hands on that pitcher, and I
wouldn't attempt it again for the whole
of Aiken County.” He refused to tell
his experience and said he would not
talk about it. Other parties have gone
to see it, but met with the same repul¬
sive feelings .—Athena (Oa.) Banner,
A Store Used as a Bed.
In the north of China the climato i*
quite cold, and there ar*s#o stoves or
fireplaces in the wayside inns. In some
of the general rooms are small charcoal
braziers, but the bedrooms, which are
very scantily furnished, contain neither
stove nor bed. In tjieir place is a brick
platform, long enough for a man to
stretch liiinsslf at full length upon and
raised a foot or two from the floor with
au opening in the side.
Info this aperture the servant pushes
a pan of burning coals, and when the
bricks are thoroughly heated the travel¬
er spreads out upon them the bedding
hp has brought with him and lies down
to rest on lus stove.
NEW MEXICO. -
How It Came to be Annexed to
the United States.
Its Mixed Population of Spanish
and Indians.
Tho Territory now known as Now
Mexico was conquered by the Spaniards
a little moro than throe centurios ago.
No portion of our country bears so re -
markably the Btamp of antiquity as
does New Mexico. Its chief city, San¬
ta Fe, is said to be the oldest in tho
United States.
After the war with Mexico, its Gov¬
ernment cedod to us in 1848 a tract of
country which originally comprised
Arizona and Southern Colorado. The
present area of New Mexico is 122, 460
•quare miles. Tho wholo number of
New Mexicans in tho United States is
estimated at 300,000.
Two entirely distinct races inhabit
the Territory, and these pooplo have an
interesting history. Tile original pos-
lessors of the land were Indians, sup¬
posed to be descended from the Aztecs,
or cliff-dwellers.
“Tho Spanish took possession of
thoir country one hundred years before
the Pilgrim Fathers set their feet on
the shores of New England. The Puri¬
tans and Pilgrims, the Dutch and the
Quakers did not come for conquest;
they came seeking freedom to worship
God.
‘•The Spaniards came for conquest
and gold; and the old fortress of San
Marco, at St. Augustine, built entirely
by the labor of Iud iau slaves, makes a
strong contrast with the work of all
the other colonists just named, who set¬
tled along tho Atlantic coast.”
The present population of New Mexi¬
co consists of a few famines of puro
Spanish blood, and the Pueblo Indians,
but tho largest portion is of mixed
Spanish and Indian blood.
These Indians were tillers of the soil,
and not nomadic. The Spaniards, har¬
ing learned that their lands were fer¬
tile, and that mineral deposits of gold
-and silver had been ftfund, determined
to seize this wealth and enslave the In¬
dians. Having succeeded in this, they
subjected the people to abject slavery,
and treated them with such cruelty that
bloody revolts were the consequence.
This wronged people parlially regained
their freedom, but were reduced in con¬
sequence to tho deopest poverty and
degradation.
In the mountains near Santa Fe there
were gold, silver and copper miaos, and
as the Spaniards, who ruled tho coun¬
try, could not wrest treasure from the
natives, they forced them to dig and
mine and smelt metals with the crudest
appliances. When, after years of toil,
tho foreign yoke became unbearable,
“secretly, and with the utmost caution,
the overthrow of the oppressors was
planned. Swift runners, traveled by
hidden paths, in the depths of night,
from town to town, laid the case of
their people before thoir eonncll of war¬
riors and wise men, and each Pueblo
that joined tho conspiracy added a
knot to a string the messengers car¬
ried.
“At last all was ready, a great blow
was to be struck for liberty, and one
that would drive the hated Spaniards
from the home of tho Pueblo. One
night during August, 1680, the signal
fires sent their message across the land
from lofty mountain-tops and the hour
had struck. The strangers’ rule received
its death-blow on that night, and the
life-blood of many a valiant Spaniard
dripped from dozens of wounds inflicted
by their former slaves. The padres,
too, becamo martyrs to their calliug,
and fell before tlieir altars, to which
they fled for safety.” The Indians
effectually closed the openings to the
mines that they had worked, and oblit¬
erated all traces of shafts and tunnels.
But their independence was of short
duration. Dm Diego de Vargas Sapa-
tahiyan soon appeared before Santa Fe
and once more subjugated the town,
the Pueblos seeking shelter in the
mountains and in the ruins left by the
cliff-builders; but they were pursued,
and again compelled to labor as peons
(serfs). But although prior to 1630,
the mine near San Lazaro had yielded
good riches, only fourteen years later
several expeditions failed to discover an
entrance to it, and today its site is un¬
known. About 1700 A D., Santa Fe
being settled by Spaniards, became tho
great trading city of the Southwest. It
is described as an antiquated place, “a
delightful place in which to r.st and
grow old without knowing it.”
The surrounding country gives evi¬
dence that the “silver fever of the old
Spaniards,” still bums iu the veins of
their successors, for holes and shafts
and tunnels may be seen in the earth >
and rock outof which “some silver and
lead have come, gold and copper out of
others, disappointment outof the ma-
jority.’ ’ — Mvj York Observer.
Not Tall Enough.
History has recorded that a foroiga
princess to whom Ilonry VI11, of Eng*
land offered his hand in marriage sent
back the pointed auswor that “if she
had had two heads slio would gladly
have placed one of them at hU Majesty’s
disposal. ” This allusion to the fnte of
Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard
was a good specimen of the epigram¬
matic smartness of that period; but,
says Mr. David Kerr, an equally
creditable performance has boen fur¬
nished by our o wn age.
Just at the time when vaguo roports
were beginning to croop abroad that
Germany was meditating a fresh ex¬
tension ot her frontier at tho oxpenso
of Holland, a Dutch official of high
rank happened to bo visiting tho court
of Berlin, where ho was handsomely
entertained. Among other spectacles
got up to amuse him, a review was or¬
ganized at. Potsdam.
“What docs your Excellency think
of our soldiers?” asked Prince Bis¬
marck, as one of tho regiments caina
marching past in admirable order.
“They look as if thoy kuow how to
fight,” remarked tho visitor, gravely;
“but they arc not quite tall enough.”
Tho prince looked rather surprised at
this disparaging criticism. IIo mode
no answer, however, and several other
regiments filed past in succession; but
the Dutchman’s verdict upon each and
all was still the same: “Not tall
enough.
At length the Grenadiers of the
Guard made their appearance—a mag¬
nificent body of veterans, big and
stalwart enough to have satisfied even
the giant-loving father of Frederick
the Great; but tho inexorable critic
merely said, “Fine soldiers, but not
tall enough.”
Then Prince Bismarck fairly lost
patience and rejoined, somewhat
sharply, ‘‘Those grenadiers aro the
finest men in our whole army; may I
ask what your Excelloncy is pleased to
mean by saying that thoy aro not tall
enough?”
The Dutchman looked him full in
the face and replied, with significant
emphasis, “I mean that wc can flood
our country twelve feot deep.”
Missed a Fortune.
Quincy Robinson related an incident
of the early history of the oil regions
recently which may give tho children
of the present generation a vague idea
of the magnitude of tho transactions
which took place when oil was $8 aud
$9 a barrel, and poor people gained a
competency by scooping it off tho sur¬
face of creeks or gathered it from pools
around tho tanks which had overflowed.
The story a3 told by Mr. Robinson was
as follows:
“Within a month after Colonel Drake
had struck the first petroleum over
brought to tho surface in America by
means of drilling, my father aud the
father of my relatives hero bought t
tract of land comprising 1280 acres ad¬
joining the farm on whica tho Drake
well was located, for $350,000. Not
long afterward I was sitting in theii
office ono day—I remember it as dis¬
tinctly as though it happened only yes¬
terday—when an agent for an Eastern
syndicate walked in and offered $500, .
000 for the 1280 acres. The owners
looked at him rather incredulously for
a moment, but before thoy could speak
he had counted out on the table $500,-
000 in cash and drafts, which he of¬
fered for a deed of the truct. I was
appalled by the sight of the pile, but
my father and tho father of these gen¬
tlemen retired for consultation, and de.
cided that if the property was worth
$500,000 it was worth $1,000,000, and
tho offer was refused. Thoir heirs still
own the land, und now it i is valued at
about $20,000. Where thoy could
have got dollars we could scarcely get
nickels. Thus you can see what seem¬
ingly fairy stories could be told of those
days. They aro almost incomprehensi¬
ble to the present generation, but they
were red-hot facts. ” And a sigh of
regret that the offer had not been ac¬
cepted went around the circle. — Pitta-
hirrj Biapatch.
Discovery of a Lost Mine.
Samuel George and M. It. Brown ot
Cornucopia, Ore., have discovered tho
long-sought-for Stanton diggings in the
Eagle range of mountains. In 1865
Stanton brought into Biker City several
ounces of placer gold, but refused to
reveal the place from which it came. In
a saloon row he killed a man and fled
for his life, taking the secret of his dis¬
covery with him. Many have searched
in vain for the l03t diggings. George
and Brown, however, accidentally stum¬
bled in Gayapoo, into ono of Stanton’s
old prospect holes, and upon investiga-
fabulously rich prospects were
found, and a pick, shovel aud fiying-
pan and several ounces of gold, evi-
dently panned from a space of fifteen
feet on bedrock. Active work will be
prosecuted on the diggngs in tho
-prlng. ~~Portlan&Oregonian,
CHILDREN’S COLUMN*
A UiARNED KI.EIMIAN'T.
There was a learned elephant,
As burned as could be;
Whatever book you give to him
He'd read it easily.
French, German, English, Gatin, Greek,
Dutch, Russian, or Burmese,
No language came amiss to him-*
He read them all with ease.
At least his hearers thought he
But listen for a while—
I’ll tell you of this elephant
A thing to make you smile:
Although by all accounted wise
He didn’t know a letter,
But just invented all he read,
And none knew any better!
—Little Folk*.
THE AFRICAN AND IIIS DOO.
When a missionary from Africa was
lately in England, ho told an amusing
story of a poor African, who lived neai
ono of the mi sionary settlements, and
whoso dog, by some accident, had got
possession of n testament in tho uutive
language and tore it to pieces, devour¬
ing some of the leaves. This man
entno to tho missionaries iu groat dis¬
may, and laid his caso beforo thorn.
IIo said that the dog had boon a very
useful animal, and had helped to pro¬
tect his property by guarding it from
wild beasts, and also in hunting and de¬
stroying them; but he feared it would
be useless for lha time to come.
Tho missionaries askod him how was
this, and why should not his dog be as
useful as formerly. As for the injury
done, that was but au accident, and
the Testament could bo replaced by an¬
other copy.
“That is true,” said the poor man;
•‘but still I am afraid tho (log will bo
of no further use to mi. Tho words oi
the New Testament are full of love and
gentleness, and after tho dog has eaten
them it is not likely that he will hun)
or fight for me any more. ”
A COURTEOUS PRINCE.
* Do not be afraid, Louis,” said the
Empress Eugenie, holding her son in
her arms.
“I am not, mamma,” answered th«
boy of eleven, “I have not forgotten
that my name is Napoleon.”
Tho cuttor in which the empress and
her son wero being conveyed at night
from a steamer had struck a rock, and
the waves were dashing over it at tilt
time this conversation took place.
The y ouug prince, avho af terward lost
his life in the war between tho English
and the Zulus, had one trait not com¬
mon to children,—he treated his play¬
mates and a’l who served him with
marked courtesy, Tho favorite com •
pauion of his sports was Louis Couneau,
the son of the emperor’s physician.
Tiiey were daily together, and many
storms ruftlid their intercourse.
One day, when there was to be a state
dinner at the Tuiierics, at which the
princo was not to appear, he invited
Louis Conneau to dine with him. Both
tads were very fond of ^strawberry
cream, and the prince, in order to giv«
an agreeable surprise to his playmate,
requested that dish to bo preparod foi
tho dessert.
Dur ng tho morning the two boys
quarrellol, and Louis Oonnean returned
home. The prince, two proud to show
any emotion at his playmate’s departure
took his seat at tho dinner-table and
tried to eat. But when tho strawberry
cream appeared his self-control gave
way. Tho tears rolled down lus cheoks,
as lie said to a servant:
“Take tho cream to Conneau, and
tell him I haven’t the heart to eat it
without him I”
A HUMAN HOI'.
A number of boys were skating and
eliding in Yorkshire, England. On a
suiden tho ice gave way almost in the
middle of tho lake and ono poor little
fellow fell in. There was no house
near where thoy could run for help; no
ropc3 which tjiey could throw to their
struggling companion. The boys stood
on the bank with pale, sorrowful faces,
afraid to try to reach their friend, in
caso the ice should give way and swal¬
low them all up.
But one boy suddonly remembered
that although you cannot stand a board
upright on thiu ice without its going
through, yet if you lay tho same board
flat on tho ice it will bo quite safe. Not
only that, but he kuew that he could
run along the board without fear oi
cracking the ice.
“I will lie down flat on the ice nc»j
the edge; then one of you muff come to
my feet and push mo along till you too
can lie down. If you nil lie down in
that way, and push the boy in front of
you, we shall make a line long enough
to reach poor Reuben.”
Thus, taking the post of danger bim-
self, the brave boy was able by his liv*
ing rope to reach his friend. He pulled
him out, though he was not one moment
too soon, for he was so exhausted with
his efforts to keep his head above
water that he would very soon have
sunk.
NO. 11.
Sub Kona.
I have heard the robins singing
Where the sweet magnolia grow*
I have seen the zephyrs flinging
Twilight kisses to the rose;
But a sweeter song has filled me
Than the birds in perfumed bowers,
And a softer kiss has thrilled me
Than the south winds on the flowers.
I have felt the lilies blowing
Dewy fragrance in the morn;
I have seen the sunbeams glaring
Golden blushes on the corn;
But I know a flower that's fairec
Than the lilies dver grew.
And I love a blush that’s rarer
Than the sunbeam's softest hue.
I have seen the moonbeams flying
Over starlit, silvery seas;
X have heard the zephyrs sighing
Through the orange-blossomed trees;
But a purer ray h as blessed me
Than the moonlight on tins-sands,
And a softer sigh caressed me
Than the breath of Tropic lands.
She is fairer than the flowers;
She is sweeter than the rose,
And her heart of kindness showers
Blessings everywhere she goes.
Aitruistic—wi tli out si n iiing—
She's an angel from the sky
(Far above my earthly winning)—
She's enguged! and so am 11
—Larry Chittenden,
HUMOROUS.
Tho oyster carries his shelter with
rim.
Thorc are several ways to pay bills,
hut tho majority of big ones arc paid
with reluctance.
AVlien cutlery manufacturers bogin
cuttiug prices it is very apt to bs war
,o tho knife.
A fruitless search—The ono a farmer
makes after the small boy has passed
through tho orchard.
Carberry— It strikes me you are
rather.long paying tiiat bill. Snodsy—
That’s because I am so short.
“Alfred,” she said, disengaging her
hand, “those horrid men saw us—what
did they say as they passed by?” “How
touching.”
‘‘What do you value that handsome
ipaniel at, if I may ask? ’ “Well, if
you want to buy him he’s worth $500,
and if you’ro the assessor I reckon bo’s
worth about 19 cents.”
Two howling pet dogs in a backyard
uptown were struck, by two bullets last
night. Howling dogs should cut this
out and paste it in their hats.
John—I’m sorry I shall be away so
long, Miss Janet. You don’t kuow how
I hate to say “good-by ’ to you, but I
suppose tho best of friends must part,
you know. Juuct—Oh, yes, and whnt’a
tho me of pooplo who arc nothing to
each other growing sad over separation?
That’s the way I look at it.
A Once-Despised Vegetable.
Some paper, speaking of tho tomato
crop, says that 72,000,000 cans "wero
put up this year past” aud refers to the
old times when tho tomato was called
tho “lovo apple,” and held about ai
fair a match for “ground cliorries” as
food for man or beast. Mr. B. R. Sul-
grovo, tho oldest newspaper man in the
city, soys lie remembers seeing, when
a boy, in 1835 or thereabouts, several
stocks or bushes of “love apples” grow¬
ing on the north side of Market street,
near Delaware, in the garden of John
Wilkins or “Archie” Lingenfeltcr.
They wore not called “tomatoes” and
nobody thought of eating them more
than “jimson burs.” They were not
commonly grown, even for garden
ornament, and it was a half score of
years later beforo they came into even
occasional table uso. But lie remem -
hers that some of the doctors of that
day commended them as a healthful
thing to eat, and the new name "to-
malo” became familiar. Fifty years or
more ago this was the fame and food
value of the tomato, now more ofton
and generally used, and in more forms
than any other garden product what¬
ever.
It Took Off Both Legs.
Major Jones, who served with credit
in tho late war, is no liar, says the
Lewiston (Me.) Journal , yet wheu he
tells a story ho generally manages to
astonish his hearers just the same. He
is fond of bonsting that he participated
in numerous battles without receiving
a wound of any description. Remem¬
bering this fact his comrades were as¬
tonished when ho remarked the other
evening at a Grand Army meeting:
“Gentlemen, the battle of Antietam
was the hottest engagement I ever saw.
My regiment, as some of you are,aware,
was exposed to a galling tire for more
thau two hours without even the poor
satisfaction of filing a shot in relurn.
During this trying season, wkile I was
receiving an order from the Colonel, a
cannon ball came straight for me, mow¬
ing a swath through tho tall grass. 1
have reason to remember that shot, gen¬
tlemen, for it took off both legs.”
i t Wka f !’’ cried ajn astonished listener,
as he glanced at tho speakei’s shapely
limbs.
“Of my horse,” added the impcr'ur-
bah e yLi)<ji.—l‘ldladalpLi e Uncord.