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VOL. I.
The B?st We Can.
When things don’t go to suit us,
Why should we fold our hand’,
And tay, “No use in trying.
Koto baffles all our plans.''
Let not your courage falte",
Keep faith in God and man,
And to this thought be steadfast—
“I’ll do the best I can.”
If clouds blot out the sunshine
Along the way you tread,
Don't grieve in hopeless fashion
And sigh for brightness fid.
Beyond the clouds the sunlight
Shines in the Eternal Plan;
Tru t that the way w 11 brightea
And do thi best you can.
Away with vain repinings;
Sing songs of hope and cheer,
Till many a weary comrade
Grows strong of l.eart to hear.
He who sings over trouble
Is aye the wisest man.
He can’t help what has happened
But—does the best he cau.
fc'o, if things won’t go to suit us,
Let's never fume and fret,
For finding fault with fortune
Ne'er mended matters yet.
Make the best of whate’er happens;
Bear failure like a man;
And in good or evil fortune
Do just the best you can.
—JZben K. Rerfvrd, in Saturday Sight.
THE STORY OF BIP,
“Bip’s s o.y is w-dl known iu the
Cumberland valley, where he lived for
many years, aud died not long ago,”
said Samuel Logan of Franklin county,
Penn.", "and it is one of the most re*
markable narratives of slavery times
ever related. I have beard the old man
tell the slory with tears in his eyes many
and many a time, and no one who ever
knew him could have the slightest
doubt of its truth. B.p was bom in
Africa, where, as he believed, he was
the sou of a king or a chief, for he re¬
membered that his father and mother
lived in a bark hut surrounded by
smaller onos, which were occupied by
many women and children, his father’s
hut always being approached by others
in a most deferential manner. His
mother wore immense gold or brass
hoops in her ears aud bands of metal
on her arm*. His father wore a big
yellow ring iu his nose. AA r hen Bi p was
about 5 years old, as ho afterward cal¬
culated, his father’s household and
many of the tribe were overpowered by
a horde of strange blacks and taken
captive. They were bound together
and driven for days until they came to
the seashore. There they were por¬
tioned among a number of white men,
the first Bip had ever seen. The cap¬
tives were taken away in boats. Bip
never saw his father again. He and Ins
mother were packed with hundreds of
others on board a vessel, and they were
many days on the Water. The vessel at
last landed and the negroes that were
still alive were takea ashore, and Bip
and his mother were selected from
the lot by a white man and taken away.
It was not until after years that Bip
knew aud appreciated the fact that he
and his parents and their tribe had
fallen victims to the African slave trad-
ers, and that ho and his mother had
been sold into slavery to a Cuban
planter.
“At the age of 15 Bip, which name
had been given him by his Cuban
owner, was sold, with a lot of other
young negroes of both sexes, to a slave
trader. Bip’s mother was at work in
the sugar field when he was sold aud
taken away. He never saw or heard of :
her again. The herd of young negroes i
was taken to New Orleans, where Biji j
was sokl on the auction block. lie was <
put to work in the sugar fields, but j
when the property he was 20 of years Arkansas oid he became j !
an cotton
planter. He was taken to the Arkansas j
plantation, which was not far from Lit- ■
tie Reck. His new master proved to
be a kind one, but Bip felt that he was
not boru to be a slave, and he was de-
‘ermined to escape from bondage, evea
it the risk of his life. Late one night
in the fall of 1821 he male a break for
liberty. He never knew exactly the
route he took, but he turned his face as
near northward as he could calculate
tod blindly followed that course. He
traveled all night, swimming rivers
and floundering through swamps.
In the daytime he hicl
among the dense brakes, and satisfied
his hunger by digging turtles from the
mud and eatjug their raw meat. He
travelled in that way for three nights*
and just before daybreak on the morn¬
ing of the third he came suddenly upo^j
a clearing. He saw at once that it was
the home of a “face camper.” In
those days that part of Arkansas was
wild and sparsely inhabited, and settlers
from other states and other portions of
Arkansas were taking up land and
gradually clearing the country into
plantations. The settlers usually lived j
during the first yeaxi of their occupancy
iu what was known as face camps, their j
first crop enabling them to put up bet- j
ter dweliingi*. The face camp wa3 a •
rnde board hut or shantv enclose 1 on
but three sidei. The side facing ll ui \
loutb wa* left open, the climate, iyen J
THE ENTERPRISE.
in winter, being mild enough to keep
as airy a habitation as a face camp en¬
tirely comfortable. The shanty was
rotffed with boards, and, as the whole
was built with slight frame walls, it
was not the most secure dwelling iu the
world. The inferior of one of these
face camps was severely simple. It con-
tained the settler’s bed, a table and a
bench or two, and a loft for storing
various articles of hcuichold use. The
bed was a rude board bunk in one cor-
ner, made fast to the side on one end
of the shanty. The loft was a similar
bunk, built three or four feet above the
bed.
“The face camper, during his first
year as a settler, depended, in a great
measure, on game for tho sustenance of
himself aud family. The woods were
filled with deer, bears and other wild
animals. AVhen a deer or other animal
was killed the dressed carcass was
suspended on a pole iu front of the
opeu end of the camp, the pole being
' supported by long forked sticks driven
in the ground. The face campers
ruroly owned slaves while they were
making their clearings, but they a! ways
looked forward to the day when they
would become masters. As a rule they
were hard, ignorant people, and their
reputation as slave-holders was such
that even the slaves of the cotton
planters on tho lowlands pitied tho
negroes of a face camper. So, natur-
ally, when Bip came suddenly at the
home of one of this class he was
greatly alarmed, aud made up his mind
to get away from that locality as soou
as possible. The moon was shining full
and bright in the shanty, and Bip could
see the bunk and the outlines of its
slceping inmates, and the loft
above it. As he stood peering oat of
the thicket, taking a hurried view of
the curious scene, an u;ly aud ominous
growl came from the shanty. Suppose
ing that his presence hacl been discov-
ered by the camper's dogs, Bip
drawing back hurrielly to escape from
the spot, when he discovered that it
was something else that had aroused the
dogs. Out of the shadows on tho op-
po3ite side of the opening camo two
dark objects towards the deer, and two
huge bears were revealed in the moon -
light. They did not stop, but slouched
impudently along to secure the object
of their visit, the deer’s carcase Bip
could not overcome his curiosity to
watch and see what the result of this
invasion would be. As the bears shuf-
fled up to the spot where the deer hung,
two dogs rushed out of the open camp,
AVith furious barking and loud yelping
they sprang upon the bears.
‘•The noise awoke the owner of the
camp, and Bip sdw him spring from
the bunk. At the same time the wife
and the faces of three wild and
startled-looking children rose up in the
bunk. The woman aud the children
began to scream aud cry. As the set-
tier jumped out the bears made a rush
for the dogs which retreated to the
shanty. They almost ran over the man
as he approached, He ran back and
helped his wife and children from the
bed to the bunk overhead. The next mo-
men t man, dogs, and bears were closed to-
gather in one indiscriminate struggle,
Feeling that whatever tho result might
be his own safety lay in escaping from
the scene without delay, B p hastened
into the forest. He had not gone
far when it occurred to him that a
fellow man’s life was undoubtedly in
peril, and that it was ids duty to aid
him iu preserving it, no matter what
the consequences might be to himself,
AYithout an instant's further hesitation
he turned and dashed back through the
thicket. He cleared the opening at a
hound, and the next second had joined
the settler and his dogs iu their contest
with the bears. The settler was being
pressed by the bears against tho board
wall at the foot of tho bunks, and tho
frail shanty was shaking and swaying
threateningly. The man’s wife and chil-
dreu were shrieking frantically in the
loft. One dog had been killed and the
other disabled.
“Bip closed with one of tho bears at
once. His knife was a keen, long-
bladed dirk, with two edges. He thrust
it to the hilt in the bear’s breast as the
animal lunged up against him. The
blood followed tho blade in a stream -
The bear staggered back. Before it
rallied Bip turned to the other one. It
had knocked the'Scttlec to the ground,
where he lay stunned, In a secoud
more the bear wou'd have torn the
man's threat to strings. AVith one
slash of his effective weapon Bip sev-
ered the big arteries in the bear’s neck,
and laid the windpipe opeu. The bear
raised up erect on its feet aad fell over
backward with its whole weight against
the side of the camp. The shock was more
than tho structure could stand, and the
shanty came down with a crash, bury-
iag bears and all beneath a pile of
bo^ 9 aud scantling. The next that
Bip knew it was broad daylight. He
was lying on the ground on a deerskin.
He was sore aud lame but managed to
get to his feet. A big-whiskered man i
CARNESVILLE, GA., MONDAY, APRIL 7.1890.
a 'pale, weeping woman, and two
frightoned-looking children avero
grouped near him. By the side of a
ragged pile of boards that had been the
face camp, lay the carcasses of two
huge bears. The big -whiskered man
came forward, grasped Bip’s hand, and
told him he had saved his life. The man,
his wife, and two of tho children hades,
enped from the wreclc of the shanty
with but slight injuries, strange as it
seemed, but the other child had been
killed. Bip felt that he would be safe
with these people, and he told them his
atory. He then learned that the face
camper was Israel Yawn, ft noted rc-
hgious enthusiast, who had settled in
the wilderness to form the nucleus of a
colony of his followers. Bip helped
rebuild Yawn’s camp, aud when it was
done Vawn mado him promise that ho
would remain at tho camp until the sot-
tier made a business trip to Little Bock
and returned. AVhen Vawn came back
he placed in Bip’s hands a bill
of sale for himself from his master.
Yawn had purchased the young negro
and given him his freedom. The over-
joyed Bip remained in Yawn’s service,
and was given the name of Solomon
A r awn. Israel A’nwn died about the
1 time the war of the rebellion began,
Bip, or Solomon Yawn, came North
and settled iu the Cumberland valley,
where he worked as a farm hand until
he died some months ago, nearly 90
years old. He is buried near Mont
Alto, and his grave is on land, 1 be¬
lieve, formerly owned by Thaddeus
Stevens.”— S. Y. Sun.
A Loudon Doll Show.
A doll show on a gigantic and soine-
what original plan, which has been or-
ganized in aid of tho new hospital for
women in Enston road, will be opened
iu the spring. Tho different sections
allow of great variety in doll dressing,
Ladies in the dress of the period—
morning, evening, bridal or court; gen¬
tlemen dolls ditto, little gill dolls, and
the babes in long and semi-long clothes,
dolls in the garb of professors, priests,
official robes, in state, parliamentary,
civic and legal, academic, scholastic,
masonic, dolls in naval, military, postal,
or police uniform, dolls in costumes of
the pantomime, sirens of the Imllet,
dolls in working dress of all
kinds, artisan, domestic service, or
trade, are to be included in the various
classes. A special section will be
formed by dolls, ladies and gentlemen,
iu sporting dress, hunting, shooting,
fishing, golf, tennis and boating garb.
Others again will represent heroes,
heroines of history, fiction, tho drama,
a spoeial class being assigned to char-
acters of nursery romance. For “cele-
brities of today” a double price is
offered, and a section of dolls in a gro¬
tesque, suggestive or emblematic dress
of any kind offers a wide field to the
fancifuj. A special nurses’section will
comprise dolls dressed as patients aud
nurses, aud others are exclusively limit-
ed to children and pupils of board,
charity and industrial schools. For
the best doll of all a prize of five
guineas is offered. —Pall Mall Gazette .
A Magician’s Story.
“AVhile in India,” said the magician
Keller recently, “I saw many things
ilono by the native masters of legerde-
main that completely ‘stumped’ me and
some scientific gentlemen that were with
m\ The most wonderful performances
were in hypnotism.
“Framjee Cowatjce Jeejeobhoy, a
millionaire Parsee merchant, son of
Framjee Oowasjee, the founder of the
Bombay Institute ot Physical Inquiry
bearing his name, gave me his word for
this remarkable story:
“In the north of India was a famous
hypnotist who possessed tho power of
hypnotizing himself. His wife, who
knew his secret, was accustomed to re-
vive him whenever he exercised his ex¬
ceptional power. He killed a man aud
was sentenced to execution. Several
days .before the time for the execution
he hypnotized himself, passing into a
condition which, to alt appearance, was
death. So perfect was the semblance
that the English Government physicians
who were called in officially certified
that lie was dead and ordered his body
cremated. But at this point his wife
appeared. She was stricken with grief,
moaned and wept until the hearts of
the authorities were touched. She was
permitted to take away the body for
private cremation. Then she revived
her husband, aad together they e3-
caped.”— Chicago Tribune.
Wit That was Appreciated.
Tompkins—Pshaw' Brown’s no wit.
There must be an element of surprise in
what a man says to make it wit. Don’t
you agree with me?
AVilson—Perfectly. That was aclev.
er witticism you got off the other day.
Tompkins—I forget. AVhat did 1
say?
Wilson—You said, “Here's that five
I borrowed from you, — Harper's
Bazar.
NATIVES OF ALASKA.
Facts About the People of the
Big Territory.
-
Not Handsome, But Possessed
of Good Qualities.
In appearance the natives of tho in¬
terior of Alaska are generally very dark
complexione 1, with large cheek bones,
large mouths and a sharp chin.
“Thi«,” says Lieutehant Cant well in
his notes obtained while exploring the
Kowak River, “gives the face a very
triangular appearance, very different
.
from the round face of tho Esquimau.
Their hair is black, and the hair is worn
long, except in frout, where it is
trimmed across tho forehead on a lino
with the eyebrows. They are quick in
their movements, active and strong iu
youth, but grow aged-looking rapidly."
Very few men of middle age were
observed. The faces of tho women are
more oval than the moil’s, and their
color is lighter. Their hair is parted
iu the middle aud worn in two braids
hanging in front of the cars. The in¬
terior nativei are referred to as beller
morally and iu points of honesty and
sobriety than the people of the coast.
They have no laws except to do by
others as they would have others do to
them. They were universally kind to
the aged and helpless, very hospitable,
curious to a degree, but nover intrusive.
Iu the interior the people did not fol¬
low methods of the Esquimau coast
tribes iu choosing au omailik, or chief
trader and general business agent, j n
all discussions regarding the welfare of
the community, the womeii and the
older ones iu particular, joined, and the
meu received their opinions with re-
spect. They were generally guided by
a kind of moral code, as Lieutenant
Cantwell says, in all matters regarding
ono another’s welfare. No punishment
was recognized for tho commission of
crime, but on the other hand there was
seldom any committed.
As to diseases, the Lieutenant found
pulmonary complaints nnd rheumatism
very common among tho natives, as
well as weak and inflamed eyes. Epi¬
demic diseases very rarely occur, though
smallpox sometimes reaches those peo¬
ple through the nativos living on the
Koyukuk river. Beyond the simple
herbs known and used by the “shaman, ”
or medicine-man, in his cantatioas, Jjut
little is known of the art ot healing.
No formal funeral ceremonies are per-
formed by the inland tribes oyer their
dead. The body is generally taken to
some secluded spot, usually o:i a bluff
overlooking a river, and laid on (he
gTound. A conical shaped structure of
spruce logs is built over the remains
aud a tree near by is stripped of
branches and a small picco of cloth
lied to it marks the spot, near which
aro left the sled, household utensils
and some of the weapons of the de¬
ceased. No one ever visits the spot
thereafter. It is tabooed.
The natives partake eagerly of such
articles as flour, tea, rice, condensed
milk and other dishes, but they despise
salt pork and would rather starvo than
touch it. In addition do the reindeer
meat, thoy eat the flesh of the bear, fox,
wolf, muskrat, beaver arid mountain
sheep. In the summer salmon is al¬
most the sole food. ’ The flesh of the
seal and white whale is eaten by the
summer sojourners at the coast. AA'ild
currants , are found , , . abundance , , and ,
in
the onion, „ celery . _ and , parsnip 1 b
wild abundance, well *: species
m as as a 1
of wild rhubarb. The tender , roots of .
the willow - were also cooked in oil
when the nativos were much in need of
food. The upper waters of the Kowal*
abound in wild duck, geese and swans,
and cranes also could he found, The
birds arc boiled after being skiuned,
and astonishing to note, tho head, feet
and intestines were considered the
choice morsels, The Lieutenant says
these tidbits were laid beforo him on
ono occasion.
AU the tribes dress very much alike.
Their attire consists of an outer and
inuer coat or “parka” of deerskin,
tight fitting trousers of hair sealskin
and boots supplied with deerskin leg-
gins, the solos beiug of walrUs or
white whale skin. Ihe inner garments
arc worn with tho fur next to the body
and the outer one with the fur outside.
Hats or caps are not worn by either sex,
but the outer garment has a hood, which
can be drawn over the head. A piece
of some loDg haired fur is sewed
around the edges of the hood to protect
the eyes from flying particles of snow.
A belt is worn by the women to confine
their outer garments or “parkas”
around the waist, and this enables the
native mother to cairy her offspring i
underneath the folds of her “parka ’
Rooks made of soft tanned skin; .y<;
worn, and mittens of reindeer skin .
with the hair turned in, aro won
winter and summer. Thread is m.
of deer sinew, and the women,
i
addition to their other arduous dutios,
make all tho clothing aud keep it is
order.
A Horn Musician..
A day or two ago a natural- boru mu-
sician came in on the Georgia road. IU
liad with him a hand-mado xylophone,
as rough and crazy au instrument as a
| musician ever tried to play, but the mu¬
sic was wonderful. The bars, oxccpt
two, were made of common yellow pop¬
lar, whittled into proper dimensions
with a pocket knife. Two bars were of
walnut. All the bars were connected
by a cotton string. The base of the in¬
strument was a coarse, pine plank, and
between this board aud the bars, form¬
ing a cushion for the bars was au inch-
thick padding of jute, or old ropes
threaded out. The musician used two
ma lets—little halls of poplar on han¬
dles of convenient length. Around each
ball was a band of flannel cloth, to
soften tho note. He mado the xylo¬
phone himself, and said he had made
four others aud sold them. The nddi-
tion of the walnut bars was a very ro-
ccnt improvement, and he seemed to bo
particularly proud of that part. The
musiciau, dressed like a cowboy with
Lead-strung ipmbroro aud big. yellow
boots, looked as little a musician as his
instruments a xylophone. Ho plays
^together by air. He whittles out his
I b,irs without any rule, whatever, judg-
entirely by the sound.
“The tone," he says, “depends on
the kind of wood, on tho length and
on the thickness. The width has very
liltlc to do with it- Po P lar hi « a nico >
mellow sound, and goes through nearly
- 1 the whole scale. Then another* thing
that changes the note is the way tho
3 rain runs in the bar. ’
Replayed “Dixie,” “Climbing Up
j lb ° ^°' den fits' 19 , and a number of
other familiar t,m ° 3 ’ i[ ” “ wou jrful ’
4 at catchin S ft " cw tuuo - aad cau
follow one’s whistling almost faultlessly.
Not only that, but he whistles beauti-
ful1 ?’ IIu Las a knnck of "baling
.
like throe or four men at once, carrying
the air and bass all at once, or warbling
like a room full of mocking birds. Ho
kept a crowded car well entertained be¬
tween Covington and Atlanta, and
gathered in a liberal lot of dimes and
quarters when tho hat was passed
around.— Atlanta, Constitution.
Curious Swedish Custom.
A curious custom of the Swedes, and
one which appears especially peculiar to
Americans, is the adoption of a new
name upon*reaching majority. This is
not always, perhaps not generally, done,
but the young Swede feels that lie has
!,s mnch ri S ht ,0 do H as to 8elcct L!s
own trade or occupation. If the name
his father gavo him seems too vulgar or
not romantic enough, he simply drops
it and takes another more to his taste.
It is apt to biTonfusing to hoar a fa¬
ther addressed as Nilson, and the son as
Bergstrom or Jansen, yet such is fre¬
quently the case, and no more is thought
of it than of a difference in Christian
names among other people. Oaco es¬
tablished in the United States, however,
tho tendency among Scandinavians is to
follow the custom of tho country, and
adhere to thcjiatcrnal uamo, w'hieh, in¬
deed, under our laws, cannot be given
up for another without certain legal
formalities,— Keu> York Star.
AVell Matched.
m
There are now living in Washington
a married couple, Paul and Albina
Hcllrauth,. ’ who were born at Baden,
Germany, , within four miles of , each
other. . Even ,, through , tlior ,, . childhood, ,
playing , in tho streets ol the same town,
they , strangers to , each . other. lu
were
the course of events thoy came across
the ocean to the land of promise, and
at different times and by different paths
they drifted to Washington, where thoy
met and loved and wedded. Upon
comparing notes to take out tlioir mar¬
riage license they discovered, to tlioir
mutual surprise and gratification, that
they were not only datives of the same
place, but rejoiced in exactly the same
ages to a day.
A Lively Kind of Stick.
John Hall of Hopkinsville was out on
a huating excursion yesterday, when ho
attempted to cross Pond River, which
was so badly swollen lie stooped tc
gather up a stick to measure the depth
of iho water. He suddenly became
aware that he had grasped a large black
snake instead of a stick, and ere he
could drop the serpent it struck at him.
and only his presence of mind saved
hitn from being bitten. After a sharp
battle he killed tho snake and brought
j t home with him. It is nearly a yard
i Q length. —Nashville American.
His Share of the Burden,
“George,” said Sirs. Gazley, re-
proachfully, “before we were married
you always insisted on carrying my
packages for me.”
“Yes” replied George, “but I didn’t
■;ave to pay for llvetn then,”— If. Y.
"un.
CHILDREN'S COLUMN.
T.ITTI.K KITTV.
I have a little kitty cat,
I’m very fond of her.
And oh! for such a tiny puss,
She has the biggest purr.
AVhen smuggled down upon my lap,
Or in an easy chair,
bhe purrs so loud, you’d really think
Three cats were purring there.
And, when old winter comes along
And snowy weather brings,
I listen to wee Toddlckilis,
And dream of summer things—
Of birds up-flying from the fields
< if grain, with rush and whir,
Of hrown-wingged bees a-talkingto
The flowers, with pleasant burr.
Of rills aud brooklets tumbling down
The hills with merry stir;
All these I dream of as 1 stroke
The pretty, soft gray fur
Of Toddlekins, that small, small cat
AVith such a great big purr.
V ST. BKKNAIU) STOUT.
A Monk of the Alpine Monastery of
tho Grand Chartreuse, accompanied by
liia faithful St. Bernard dog, was on
his way home up the mountain ono day,
when, by a sudden mischance, ho
slipped over a steep place, and foil into
the snow many feet below, liis dog
could not help him but by going
home to letch Ihe monks, and this he
did, plainly telling them at the monas¬
tery by his barking and gestures that
they should follow him. Seeing that
Father Nicholas was not with his dog,
they set out with tho faithful creature,
which led them with joyous gambols
straight to wliero tho monk lay half-
buried in tho snow; aud ho was rescued
from what would have been certain
death.
THK MTTLE ItOI’B- WALKER.
A great many years ago—more than
half a century, in fact—a family of
French acrobats traveled through
Europe and made tlioir living by giving
entertainments in the villages through
which they passed.
All the members of the family were
acrobats, and tlicir parents before them
had been acrobats, too, journeying from
ono villago to another, and buying
their bread with the pennies and six¬
pences that tho country pooplo threw
into the father’s hat, I said that all
the members of tho family were acro¬
bats, but I had forgotten little Henri,
who was only four years old, and too
young, therefore, to do his share in
amudng the public. Bo little Honri
went about with Ills father and
mother and sister and big brother,
aud slept in the wagon at night and
played with tho big dog or toddled
about the village gre9n while his elders
were dancing on the long rope. It was
his sister Jeanne who took care of him,
washed and drossed him in the morn¬
ing, put him to bed at night, and
taught him to say his prayers before he
went to sleep. She was a kind, good
girl, and little Henri loved her more than
any one in the world, and when he
saw her tako her long pole in her hand
aud dance gracefully up tho long rope
toward the top of the steeple while tho
peoplo looked on and clapped their
hands, ho though there was no one in
the world as lovely and charming as
his sister Jeanne.
One day they stopped in a beautiful
old-fashioned village on tho banks of
the Rhine. They stretched their long
rope from the ground to the top of the
steeple, and Jeanne took her polo in
her hnud, bowed and smiled to the
people and danced lightly and grace¬
fully up toward the top. And little
Henri, standing on the ground, with
his father’s cane in liis chubby hands,
wntclied her with as much delight as if
ho had never seen her do it before. But
when she had gone about half the dis¬
tance a gust of wind shook the rope!
she tumbled, almost lost her balance,
and cried out in terror.
“I’m coming,” screamed little Hen¬
ri, and while his mother turned away
her* fate, aud his father implored him
to return, he balanced his cane as his
sister balance! her pole and ran up the
rope to help her. It was the first timo
he had ever been on a slack rope in his
life, but ho was not afraid, nor did it
make him dizzy. He ran up to where
Jeanne was clinging and threw himself
into her arms. She hold him tight un¬
til his father came and carried him
down. 1 -Ho will make a great rope
walker,” said his mother, as she clasped
tho little boy in her armi. “He takes
to it as a duck takos to water.. It must
bo in his blood,” said the father; and
from that day little Henri’s education
as a light-rope walker began.
Years afterward this same little boy
stretched a rope across Niagara Fall
and wal ked across it as easily as if it
had been a barn floor, and then the
whole world resounded with the fame
of Blondin. And one day, after he
had performed in Paris in the presence
of thousands of people, he tat in his
tent and told me the story of how he
had run up the long rope to save Ilia
lister .—Pitsburg P spatch.
----
The London market is lffrgcly over¬
stocked with diamonds.
NO. 14.
From Nlf lit to Light.
Fri*nd, you are sad, you say? «
Your grief once in the past,
All shall be clear to you;
The sorrow shall'not last,
But then be dear to you
Some coming day. ■■■•p
•»
So consolation find; '
Vleld not thus to despair;
Believe joy wails for you,
And, in the future, there .
Opens her gates for you.
Be then resigned!
—Ge.org* Birdseye.
HUMOROUS.
“It is time to rise,” as the baking
powder said to the biscuit.
If experience is so great a teacher,
why do we speak of a “green” old
age?
First Little Girl—Is your doll a
French doll? Second Little Girl—I
don’t know, she can’t talk.
No wonder the toy pistol cannot be
exterminated. Peoplo are always
teaching the young idea liow to shoot.
Customer—How is venison now t
Butcher—Vcuisou isn’t deer, now. Cus¬
tomer—That’s what I thought. G.ve
me some veal.
Some men will get up out of lied at
night in tho coldest of weather to go to
a fire who cannot bo induced to get up
at 7 to start one in the stove.
Mrs. Btoodgood—What! not an open
fircplaco nor a stove in the house? How
does your father warm liis slippers,
AVillie? AVillio (ruefully)—Warms ’em
on me, ma’am.
A delinquent walks into the prison
carrying Ins head high and with a cer¬
tain patronizing air. Pointing to the
constable who is leading him by the
arm, he says;—“Allow him to pass; he
is with me.”
“That is not more than half the com¬
position,” she said, as she turned on
the pinno stool. “Shall I play the
rest?” “Yes,” lie replied, abstracted¬
ly, “play the rest by all means; play
all the rests you can find.”
“Miss N-, how could you think
that I had ever said iu company that
you were stupid; quite the contrary,
whenever your name was mentioned I
was always the only ono who didu’t say
so'.”
An agricultural journal advises;
.“Grind your own bones.” AVhen a man
is in such a condition that be ho has no
further use for his bones, he is alto¬
gether too exhausted to grind them.
Ho sometimes “grinds his teeth,” but
there ho draws the line in tin matter of
self-bone grinding.
A Czar’s Cure for Obesity.
Peter the Great was once traveling
incognito in a part of Finland, just,
conquered, where he was executing
some naval works. He met an over-fat
man who told him he was going to St.
Petersburg, “AVIiat for?” said
tho Czar. “To consult a doctor
about my fat, which has become very
oppressive.” “Dr you know any doc ;
tor there?” “No.” “Then I will
give yon a word to rny friend, Prince
MenscliikoiT, and he will introduce you
to one of the Emperor’s physicians.”
The traveler went to the Prince’s house
with a noee. The answer was not de¬
layed. The next day, tied hands and
feet, the poor man was dragged off on
o cart to the mines. Two years after,
Peter tho Great was visiting tho mines;
ho had forgotten the adventure of the
over-fat man, when suddenly a miner
threw down his pick, rushed up !o him,
and fell at his feet crying: “Grace,
grace! what is it I liuvc done? 1 ’ Peter
looked at him astonished, until he re¬
membered the story, and said; “Oh,
so that is you? I hope you are pleased
with me. Staud up. How thin and
slight you have become! You aro quite
delivered of your over-fat; it is a first,
rate cure. Go, and remember that
work is the best antidote against your
complaint!”
A Child’s Plea to a King.
King Loopold of Belgium is the hero
of a pretty story. Some six years ago
a seaman named Frank Moore deserted
from the steamer Rhvuland at Phila-.
delphia. Ho was lately arrested at
Antwerp for this offence, and heavily
sentenced, whereupon his little niece,
Bessie Keim, wrote to the K ng, be¬
seeching her uncle’s release, This
letter relatod that six years ago her
aunt wa3 dying, and that her only
prayer was that she might live to sea
her brother Frank, who, on arriving
and hearing this, entreated of his cap¬
tain permission to visit her, which
being denied him, he deserted. Little
Bessie gravely concluded: “ Your
Majesty, if you had been in his place,
would not you have done the same? I
hope you will pardon Uncle Frank for
doserting and me for writing.” Not
long afterward the. child received a
letter front a official, saying that
the offender had been released, “out ot
compliment to hi? Majesty’s littje
fripgt},