Newspaper Page Text
official
—OX 1 —
FRANKLIN county.
VOL. ill. NO. 2.
Snnllgkt is Beyond the Storm.
Up the mountain Bide, since morning,
\y e had plodded all chamois the day; bounding
Saw 1 the frightened
From our sight away, away;
gsw tho mighty rocks and boulders,
Careless scattered all around,
3 s if dashed from giant shoulders
In a passion to the ground.
y 0 w, ad obstacles surmounted,
* summit glad stood,
On the we
Where a glow of gleaming glory
Surged upon us like a flood.
0 b, the sunlight 1 Oh, the sunlight!
How it shot iu qulv’ring bars,
jelling of the walls of jasper
And (he city o’er the scars.
Far below a storm was raging,
And the clouds of blackest hue
Boiled and tossed in mad confusion,
While the lightning glittered through,
Hidden from us all the valley,
By the moving, murky screen;
But above, where we were standing,
All was quiet and serene.
And my heart went out in pity
To the dwellers far below—
Hidden f{om them all the beauty,
Hidden from them all the glow—
And I wondered if in future,
■ After we have done with life,
When the mountain is ascended—
I.cft below the storm of strife—
If we then would look in pity
On the cloud-hid souls below;
Whisper that sweet rest was o’er them,
Hid them bravely upward go.
Yc within the storm-swept valley,
Look beyond tlie dark’ning sky 1
On tho mountain top.is sunlight;
Ye shall reach it by and by.
—[Mattie Bouuer, in Philadelphia Ledger.
A BOULEVARD CONCERT,
BY EMMA A. OPPER.
“Yes—no—oh, 1 don’t know, Dan,
dear!” said Annio, with languor.
“Just as you please. Don’t you think
it’s too warm?”
“A drive might cool ino off,” s-' ; 1
Dau Morris; “but I’m not particular.
It is sleepy weather.”
He yawned. Then there was an ir¬
resolute and indifferent pnusc.
“I actually believe I’d prefer taking
a nap," Annie confessed, playing with
the fringed eiid of her red silk sash.
Her aftornoou gown was charming,
and so was she, with her gray eyes
and blue-black hair.
“Which means that I’m to go,”
said Dan, without resentment. “I’ll
have a game or two of billiards before
dinner, I guess. Do you care about
going to the boulevard concert to¬
night? I thought, if you didn’t, I’d
run up to Lint Haddon’s; he’s been at
me to come aud see his new bachelor
den—”
“Go, of course, dear,” said Annie;
“and if I care to go to the boulevard
(
papa will take mo. Good- y!”
“By-by, dear!” said Dun.
Annie’s Aunt Ernestine sat motion,
less for three minutes after tho good-
looking, well-dressed, attractive young
fellow had betaken himself serenely
up the street.
“Annie,’? sho demanded, agita'edly
fanning herself, “if you and Daniel
Morris do not love each other, why
are you engaged?”
“You dear old goose,” Aunie cried
sweetly. “Love each other? Of
course l But do you expect us, this
awfully hot Weather, to be exerting our¬
selves, and rushing and fussing—”
“You will not exert your selves
to speak to each other soon,”
said Aunt Erne stine, sternly.
“You are getting worse and worse. In
uiv day, betrothed lovers were not
above showing some affection. I be¬
lieve you and Dan are utterly indif¬
ferent to one another. 1—”
“Dear Aunt Ernestine,” Annie pro¬
tested, showing pretty teeth as she
laughed, “you do not understand. Of
course we’re fond of each other. But
do you know how long we’ve been en¬
gaged? Six whole months ; papa will
have it a long engagement, you know.
Aud we’re both sensible. I don’t ex¬
pect Dan to—to keep it up, you know,
as lie did at first, and he doesn’t ex¬
pect me to. Wo'ie matter-of-fact aud
moderate. If wo don’t see each other
every day, we don’t mind; we are
reasonable. Aud we never get jeal-
°us- Oh, it’s so much better, Aunt
Ernestine, our way is ! If all young
en gagcd couples only realized it,’’said
Annie, smiling with placid superior¬
ity upon her- unenlightened rela¬
tive.
“Thank goodness, they don’t!” said
Aunt Ernestine, devoutly.
f he boulevard was the grand prom¬
enade of the town. It overlooked
the bay; it had a broad asphalt ex¬
tent,and troaa and shrubs and refresh¬
ment booths, and an orchestra played
there two evenings a week. •
It was popular always, and on this
special Tuesday evening it was
crowded.
The latest popular air was being de¬
lightfully rendered when Annie
strolled down the long walk on her
lather’s arm.
“Everybody's here,” she said en¬
vyingly. “I almost wish thtyt Dan—
Why, R that Pan, papa?”
THE ENTERPRISE.
CARNESVILLE, FRANKLIN CO.. GA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 15.1892.
She stared at the spot whore a good-
looking young man stood talking with
a pretty girl.
“It is! Who is that he’s talking to,
papa? Papa!”
Sho was anxionsly nudging him, but
her father was shaking hands with a
youug man in a palo suit and eye¬
glasses.
“Mr. Knight, my dear,” ho said;
“my daughter. Mr. Knight is on
from Boston for a time,” ho explained
further. “I met him there. I may
have spoken of it.”
Annie didn’t know whether lie had
spoken of him or not. She felt slight
interest in him. She didn’t want him
to offer his arm and make her prome¬
nade with him while her father
smoked.
Sho accepted it coolly. Her frown¬
ing eyes, as well as her displeased
mind, wore ou Dau Morris and his
companion.
“It is decidedly pretty here,” Mr.
Knight began. “The lights out on
tlie bay and tho fresh breezo and tho
music—’’
“Too fresh,” said Annie. “I’m
cold.” She was perfectly comfort¬
able. “Pray look at that red lace
hat, Mr. Knight.”
It belonged to tho pretty girl with
Dau Morris.
“I seo it.”
Mr. Knight smiled a little.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” she demand-
ed.
Mr. Kuight’s glasses somewhat dis¬
guised his expression, but at that mo¬
ment it was peculiar.
“A little loud, you think?” he as¬
sented.
“Awfully!” said Annie, gratified.
Dan and the red hat wero strolling
now.
“Do yon— You don’t know her?”
“Well, yes,” Mr. Knight responded,
indifferently, “a little. She’s a Miss
Murphy.”
Annie did not pauso to consider how
tho young Bostonian happeued to
know a young lady waom even she
did not know.
She sniffed her disdain,
“I suppose she’d be called pretty?”
sho observed. “But do you know I
don’t like that—that obvious style of
prettiness. Do you? Such awfully
light hair and pink cheeks, aud—”
“1 know it,” said Mr. Knight, in
prompt agreement, and smilingly.
“She isn’t tall enough, either,” An¬
nie declared, her pretty nose high.
“That’s sure.”
Mr. Knight was stroking his mous¬
tache.
“And a girl of that style ought to
know enough to dress quietly,” said
Annie with sharpness.
“I’m with you.”
Mr. Knight seemed to find real
pleasure in the conversation; he looked
delighted.
“Do you know the youug man she
is with?” he ventured.
“Yes, 1 do.” Annie’s lovely eyes
looked rather stormy. “Mr. Morris.’’
“They’re going to have some ice
cream, I see. Let us have some; or
something warmer, if you’re cool?”
“Thank you, no!”
There was no use; if she looked
away from Dan and that horrid litile
Murphy girl, she looked back the next
instant. She gave it up, aud looked
at them helplessly, fixedly.
“I don’t care: of course I don’t!”
she murmured, inwardly. “Only
Dan never cared for another girl—”
“It’s soda water they’re having,”
Mr. Knight remarked. “Miss Murphy
has chocolate, you seo, and Mr. Mor-
ris—”
“I haven’t tlie least interest in
them,” Annie announced—not having
tho least interest in anything else.
“How absurd sho looks, really coining
nowhere to ids shoulder!”
How ill-bred of her to be talking
ill-naturedly of an acquaintance of
the Bostonian’s—How dreadful!
When had she ever done such a
thing? How could she? What had
come over her? She was seriously
and honestly puzzled.
“I suppose you think—I don’t
know—I haven’t meant to bo rude,”
she tried to say, but her voice broke
a Jit tie.
She was strangely miserable. She
had never felt like this before. Were
Dan and Miss Murphy coining over?
They seemed to be. Did she want
them to, or didn’t she? Oh, dear,
she didu’t know!
But she knew that they were close,
that sire and Miss Murphy had been
introduced, and Dan aud Mr. Knight;
that the other three stood chatting and
laughing for five minutes,she standing
oddly silent; aud that presently, by a
manoeuvre on somebody's part, she
and Dan were left together and alone.
“Oh, Din!” she faltered, slipping a
clinging hand through his arm.
“I saw in a minute something was
tho matter with you,” said Dan; and
lpy presfed the baud, despite the two
Equal Rights to all, Special Privileges to None.
or three pooplo looking at them.
“Such a boro! Will, that’s rude. She’s
a nice girl, but 1’vo been trying for an
hour to get her over here, for I know
that her follow would take her oil
then, and 1 could have you, dear.”
“Oh, Dau,” sho breathod, happily,
“wijre you trying? Oh, Dan, I’ve
just boon miserable! I never knew I
was such a goose 1 I suspected—Oh,
I don’t know what! You said you
wero going to Lint IladdoiiV*
“I did, and ho made me como on
down hero, and then Mrs. Marsh got
hold of nio and introduced me to Miss
Murphy—Boston niece visiting her—
and all the time I was trying to see
you, you know, and I rather wished
the whole of them wero in—’’
“From Boston, Dan, dear?” said
Annie, vaguely.
“Y’es. She came on to Mrs. Marsh’s
for a week, she says, and her fellow
came right on after her, and—”
“Who is he, Dan ?” said Annie.
She raised horrified eyes to him.
“Who? Why, Knight, of course—
the fellow you wero flirting with.
Oh, yes, you were! Mind yon,I bring
you to tho boulevard hereafter I No
more of your carrying on with Boston
fellows—”
“Dan!” Annie gasped, and said no
more for two appalled minutes.
Then she told him everything, her
face brightly flushed anil her dark
eyes shining in a way not wholly
unhappy.
“I know ho understood all about it,
Dan. I know it,” sho ended. “I was
too ridiculous, and I know ho saw it
all. Oh, how thoy will laugh—he and
Miss Murphy ! Dau, I didn’t think I
could be such an idiot if I tried !”
“And you’re a djar sweet duck of a
little girl to have been just such an
idiot without trying!” said Dan, con¬
tentedly. “I was iu tho same fix,
dear. I wanted to abuse Knight, if I
didn’t.”
Annie was reflecting, her gaze on
the great, murmuring, many-lighted
bay.
“Aunt Ernestine,” she whispered—
“Aunt Ernestine, when I tell her
about it, will bo just tickled to death I”
— [Saturday Night.
A Tea-Party in a Tree.
Who says we have no big trees in
Washington ? Over toward the base
of Mount Tacoma, in Pierce County,
and about seventeen miles south of
Orting, is a wonderful valley called
Succotash Valley. But few settlers
are there, and none of tho land has
ever been surveyed. The Kernahans
were the pioneer settlers. Miss Ruth
Kcrnahan, residing at Palisade Farm
in the valley, send* a report of a
society event, the features of which
are unparalleled in Washington,
In tlie Succotash Valley there was
recently given an English tea by Mr.
Ilackar of Lewis County. It was hfld
in a hollow tree 15x16 feet in dimen¬
sions. The tree was artistically lined
and roofed with fir and cedar boughs.
A tabic 3x12 was decorated with a
bouquet of carnations from the Pali¬
sade farm. The odor of flowers and
evergreens agreeably scented the
whole tree, There were two en-
trances, one beside a gravelly beach
on the edge of a creek, Tliero were
twenty-eight people sealed beside the
the table inside the tree at one time.—
[Orting (Wash.) Oracle.
Green Sloths.
The sloths at the Zoological Gardens
are not quite so green as they were
when they first arrived, We do not
refer to their growing recognition of
tlie fact that nuts and buns are not
suitable food for an arborqal creature
which subsists upon leaves, but to a
literal change of color, It is a most
remarkable fact tiiat the sloth has in the
wild state green hair, which causes it
to resemble, as it clings to a branch,
an excrescenco of that branch cov-
ered with greenish-gray lichens, In
this way tlie sloth may perhaps some-
tiiries escape the keen eye of a jaguar.
It is still more remarkable that the
green color is not resident in the hair
itself, but is due to the presence of
quantities of minute green plants;
and this explains how it is that iu
captivity tho sloth changes color; tlie
plants, deprived of the damp heat of
their native forests, die, and are not
replaced, so the peculiar gray green
which is so characteristic of the sloth
is changed to a brownish gray.—
[Loudon Graphic.
Dogs in England.
The point to which English dog¬
breeding has reached is illustrated by
the opening last week of a new sani¬
tarium near London under the direc¬
tion of Dr. Sewell, the queen’s veter-
inary surgeon, Ilere are separate
wards for each dog disease, a surgical
operation-room, ilissccting-room,bath-
room, kitchen, and separate exercising
grounds for each division of {hp i?P
stitadQUi ■v-[Chicago Times.
i
COMANCHE.”
Thrilling Story of a Famous
War-Horse.
The Only Survivor of the
Custer Massacre.
There died nt Fort Riley recontly
tho most famous horso in the West in
many respects. It was Comanche, the
war-horse that was the only thing on
Custer’s side that came out of tho
massacre In June, 1876, alive. Com¬
anche had never been under saddle
since, and lived at ease until doath by
old age, tlie pel and care of tho Sev¬
enth Cavalry. lie was 25 years old,
and was visited by sight-seers from
far and near during tho last years of
his life. Professor Dyche.of tho state
university at Lawrence, was sum¬
moned by telegraph and secured Ilio
skin and skeleton for mounting and
will preparo them for the World’s
Fair.
It has boon tho lot of few horses to
receive the altentiou and homage that
fell (o Comanche. His presence at
Fort Riloy was a constant reminder of
the soverest blow (ho Seventh over re¬
ceived, and lie had all care that loving
hands could givo. Comaticho was a
largo gray, being 15 1-2 hands high,
long of limb and with heavy mano
and tail. Only an estimato could bo
inado of his age, but it was put down
as twenty-live to twenty-eight when
ho died,
The Indians tell an interesting story
of tho horse’s famous action. Custer
arrived at the bauks of (ho Little
Big Horn River .Tune 20, 1876,
and saw spread out before
him in the valley a camp of 9000 In¬
dians, under tho leadership of Sitting
Bull. Tho camp was fully three miles
long, and Custer, following his usual
tactics, decided to attack the enemy
on both flanks and in the middle, thus
to disconcert and rout them easily. He
ordered Major Reno to attack the east
end of the camp with one division,
Captain Benteen the center with an¬
other, while he should take the west
end. The result is familiar to all—
how Reno reached his attacking point
too soon, was repulsed and withdrow
from the ground; how Caster pro¬
ceeded to tho west end and instead of
finding a small company of redskins
was confronted by two divisions
massed against him, all armed with
the latest and best government rifles
and guns.
Witli Custer was Captain Miles
Keogh, who rode Comanche. The
horse had been in several battles and
could aland tiro like a post or run like
a mustang. At first the soldiers soomed
successful, but Ufen tho terrific tiro
told on their ranks. Captain Benteen
and Custer were driven slowly before
the great force of the enemy and
waited for Reno to attack the rear,
but he did not come.
Leaving Captain Keogh on a lower
ridge, General Custer and his men
ascended the crest of the knoll to
which they were driven and there
made his last stand. Keogh, seeing
his men exposed to the fearful rain of
bulle s gave the order to the men to
kill the horses and take refuge behind
their bodies. The order was obeyed.
He still rode Comanche—and here
there is a variance as to the manner
in which the escape of the animal oc¬
curred. Some Indians say lip broke
away and ran, but tlie more popular
version is, that his master being unable
to consider the thought of taking the
life of the beast who had served him
so well dismounted, ami giving tho
animal a stinging blow with his
sword, drove him away and turned
his unprotected front to the foe.
Comanche dashed over (lie steppe
regardless of all before him, and tho
Indians, being on foot, made way
rather than meet death beneath his
hoofs.
The circle around Custer and
Keogh was complete, and a few min¬
utes after Comanche’s escape every
soldier in Custer’s division was dead.
Two days later Captain Charles King,
who was coming to the scene of (ho
massacre, having received word from
Reno’s scouts, met Comanche dragging
his weary limbs over the trail on which
he had traveled a few days before
bearing his brave master. The sol-
diers took him along to the place of
the final stand, and when it was
found that not a man remained alive
they determined that the horse should
not be again ridden, but should be
cared for in a way no horse had ever
been before.
Until his death Comanche was the
pet of the Seventh. He had the finest
stall in the stables, the best oats and
;he choicest hay. Not a man dared
speak roughly to him, and when he
•lied one of the regiment cppld hardly
have beeu more missed,
Comanche was ono of the original
mount of the Seventh Cavalry wliea
the regiment was organized nt Fort
Riley in 1806 ami was in nearly every
skirmish from that ono until 1870.
His first encounter wus against the
allied tribes of tho central plains in
1808, when General Sherman com¬
manded in person, lie receivod his
first wouud in September of that year
at tho bloody battlo of tho Sand Hills,
die had Spanish blood in liis veins and
was tractable and Intelligent. During
tho past six months, whilo it was soen
that ho was failing, every military
post in tho country was notified of his
condition, and every soldier who visits
the exposition will want to see the
mounted remains of the famous steed.
—[Chiengo Herald.
Pike’s Peak.
Iu the first decade of this century,
Major Zobulon Pike gazed from afar
at tho grim slopes of tho mountain
named iu his honor, aud doubted if
human foot would evor tread its sum.
mit; nor did ho express this doubt
lightly, as might ono who lmd not
made the endeavor, but as ono who
had put forth his best efforts, and had
been baffled at every turn by frown¬
ing steeps, chilling blasts, and fast-
falling snow.
Having reached tho height of a much
lower peak, now known as Cheyenne
Mountain, ho decided that further
cfforls would be but to incur an un¬
necessary risk for his small band of
men, and therefore retraced Ills steps
to the valley.
Forty years or more passed by, and
tho mighty monarch yet reared aloft
its proud head in seeming defiance of
human touch, when another venture¬
some traveler contemplated tho ascent
of tho mountain and an exploration
of the magnificent canons opening
in every direction from his camping
ground, lie had pitched his tent in n
nook of surpassing beauty, wherein
was situated numerous health-giving
springs, a place where the Indians
were accustomed to bring their sick
that tlie “Manitou,” the Great Spirit,
might heal them by those life-renew¬
ing waters.
Then a band of hostile Indians ap¬
peared in large numbers, and he who
might have blazed a trail to those
lonely heights was forced to make
haste in his departure, and to “stand
not on the order of his going.”
But the magic word ‘“gold” had set
in motion many an emigrant wagon,
and the lonely plains wore soon
marked by an almost continuous train,
in ono case at least, bearing in visible
letters on cauvas, and in all, bearing
in equally clear characters on the
brows of tlie occupants, “Pike’s Peak
or bust!” Some perished by the way;
many reached the goal; but to each
and all tho grand old peak, now
shrouded in clouds, now gleaming iu
the sunlight, stood a landmark tot
miles on miles of toilsome journey¬
ing.
Not all of those who reached the
gocl wore rewarded by the sight of
the yellow metal; but wealth is not
counted wholly by nuggets, and many
who failed in their search for gold
found that which monoy cannot buy.
The “Great Spirit” had not withdrawn
his healing touch from the water,
though his dusky children no longer
came to drink of them, aud ere long
the fame of sparkling springs and in¬
vigorating air was calling hundreds
to the famous mountain who other¬
wise might never seen it.—[St. Nich¬
olas.
Cost of Superstition,
“What is (he valuo of superstition
in this age?” asked a gentleman at
the Grand last night. “Nine people
out of ten would say it cuts no figure
in finance, but there never was a
greater mistake. Just to illustrate the
point it is only necessary to call atten¬
tion to the fact that on the street rail¬
road lines the receipts per car, aro, on
an average, from $4 to $6 smaller on
Friday than on the other days of the
week. The cause is plain. There aro
in the city today thousands of people
who will not move about on Friday
because of tho superstition connected
with the day, and as a consequence
the street car companies suffer. In¬
quiry develops the fact, also, that the
same conditions apply to steam roads
and steamer lines, and it is found that
their ticket receipts fall off heavily ou
that day.”—[San Francisco Call.
Remarkable Ear of torn.
A freak of nature in the shape of
an ear of coru was presented to us
Tuesday by Mr. Wm. Daniels. A per¬
fect ear of corn, solidly filled with
grains, is surrounded by seven smaller
and almost equally perfect ears, about
one-half the size of the central ear,
and all joined In ono ear at the base.
It is a curiosity well worth preserving,
and was grown by Mr. Daniels on
Aunt Polly Ann Maupin’s place, near
Steiumetg.rr-fGlftgow Missourian.
CUILDKKN’S COLUMN,
TUK l 1 'A IRIKS* 1UN0K.
Once In the morning when tho breeze
Met nil the leaves astir,
And music floated from tho tress
As from n dulcimer,
I saw the roses, one by one,
How gracefully, as though
A fairy dunce were just begun
l'pon the ground below.
The lilies white beside tho walk.
Like Indies fair ami tall,
To,'ether joined In whispered talk
About the fuiries’ hall;
The slender grasses waved along
The garden path, and I
Could almost hear tho fairies’ song
When blew tho light wind by.
1 waited there till noon to hear
The elfln music sweet;
1 saw tho servant bees appear
In golden jackets neat;
And though I wished just once to see
The happy little elves,
They were so much afraid of me
They never showed themselves 1
-IF. D. Sherman, in Harper’s Young Peo¬
ple.
GOLD FROM MANY COUNTRIES.
Many of our youthful readers
doubtless think that all gold is aliko
when refined. Mon of exporionce who
handle much gold can quickly tell
from what part of the world tho
quartz was mined from which tho
gold pioco was coinod. Few grown
people know the coni color of gold, ns
the metal is seldom seen except heavi¬
ly alloyed, which renders it rodder in
color than when in its pure state.
The gold found in the Ural Mountains
is tho reddest of all in its natural
stale; Australian gold is redder than
that of California, whilo gold ob¬
tained from tho plncors is rodder than
that obtained from quartz, What
causes thoso different colors is one of
the mysteries of metallurgy. —[Brook¬
lyn Citizen.
RUSSIAN CHILDREN IN WINTER.
But everything Is very different
when the torribie Russian frost sots
in, and hill and valley alike become
one greut sheet of white. Very bare
and dreary do theso green, sunny
slopes look In the winter months, with
a few leafless trees standing gauntly
up through the drifts, and the fierce,
cold wind howling down the passes,
driving great showers of snow along
with it. No more light clothing, no
more bare heads then. Every one,
whether a child or grown np, is muf¬
fled in a great thick sheepskin frock
reaching down to the feet, with a big
collar turning up'all round tlie face,
till you can hardly see who it is.
But tho littlo Russians aro not afraid
of the cold, and have amusements
in winter as woll as in summer. When
tho sun is bright, and there is no snow
falling, they can go out upon the hills
with their sleds—for thoy have sleds
there, of course, and theso little moun¬
tain-people aro quite as fond of them,
and as clover in managing them, as
any children In tho world. Famous
sliding do (hoy have down these great
elopes, and flue rosy faces do tiiey
win by it, and wonderful appotites do
they carry homo with them to their
suppers of browu bread and kasha
(buckwheat porridge mixed with but¬
ter), after tho fan is over.
And in the stormy evenings, when
the grim northeast wind comes howl¬
ing over the wild, lonely mountains,
bringing with it all the cold of tho
frozen wastes of Siberia, when tho
great flakes are falling so thick and
fast that no one can seo an inch be¬
yond the window, and far up among
tlie hills you can hear at times the
crash of a tree breaking down under
tho weight of the snow,—then is the
time for the little folks to cmldlo
around the warm stove, and to roast
chestnuts in tho embers, and for tho
older boys to make baskets or twist
ropes, and for the bigger girls to plait
straw mats, And then their old
grandmother, sitting at her spinning;,
on a stool in tho warmest corner, with
a red handkerchief around her dark,
wrinkled old face, which looks just
like an oak-carving, will tell thorn
some quaint old fairy tale or some
story out ot Russian history—perhaps
about Ivan Veliki, who beat tho Tar¬
tars, or I’etcr the Great, who built 8t.
Petersburg, or the bravo men who
burned their great city of Moscow to
drive away Napoleon.
Sometimes the children take their
turn, and sing a funny little song
about the ‘'white geese,” as they call
the snowflakes.
Daddy, daddy Winter,
Let your white geese fly;
Send the wind to drive them
Alt across the sky!
Bend tbe tossing pine-trees,
Make the hard earth split—
8cug around the fireside
We don’t fear a bit!
And I don’t suppose they do; for in
spite of the wild country and their
rough climate, these little Russians are
a very merry race indeed;^-[St,
Nicholas.
OFFTCIAL ORGAN
—oar the—
FRANKLIN COUNTY ALLIANCE
$1.00 PER YEAR.
Shadows.
Bee, on the Dial of the past,
This noonday sun looks fiercely down,
No teii-talu shadow does it cast,
To warn us that the time has flown.
And so I trust in future years,
No shadow from this midday skies
Will cross our life. Love hath no fears,
Aud love cares not how swift time flies.
The ivy with its tender hold
Hath wound the Dial all about—
Anil so love’s canopy of gold
Wit; shut time's passing shadows cut.
—F. 8. Mines, in Munsey’s Magazine
HUMOROUS.
Striped goods aro still fashionable
in criminal circles.
Any man would much rather bo «
fool than look like one.
A man with an elastic step should
be able to walk for a long stretch.
A book on etiquette might justly be
termed a work on haughty-culturo.
Tho next industry of tho rain pro¬
ducer will bo to make tlie rain dear.
Tlio pedestrian is a man who gen¬
erally puts his whole solo In Ids work.
In society wo try tlie hardest to
please the people u ho lovo us the
least.
“This is a regular sugar loaf,” said
tho candy-store clerk when business
was dull.
Women aro not inventive as a
rule. Thoy have no cagornoss for
new wrinkles.
Nttrsos make (lie meanest kind of
white cap gentry, for they will even
hold up babies.
If there is ono thing more than
another that a man is up to his neck
in it is his shirt.
Tho Universal l’ress Society want!
to discourage cats from mounting
backyard walls.
Talking of tho thieves of tho pres¬
ent day, the grentost pirate of old was
a more Kidd to them.
“I wish 1 hadn’t rejected him.”
“Why?” “Because ho didn’t seem the
least bit put out when I said no.”
A promoter is pungently defined as
a man who sells something ho hasn’t
got to a man who doosn’t know what
ho is getting.
It is sadly but frequently tho case
that tho man who hurrahs the loudest
has tho leust idea of what ho is
hurrahing about.
Foreman—They say old Jones is dy¬
ing by degreos. Editor—Just like
him. Ho nover will hustler when ho
strikes a good thing.
Jack- Well, Jim, I proposed to
Miss Summer last night. Jim—Did
she give you her heart? No—but I
got a piece of her mind.
When the young girl’s father comes
into tho parlor and rudely turns oft the
gas, we suppose the young man can
safely regard it as time to light out.
Friend—IIow’s your son getting
on, Jenks? I hopo ho is growing up
a credit to the fumily. J.—Yes, ho
has, tlie young rascal! lie gets credit
everywhere.
“What a lovely morning 1” he said.
“It is a perfect morning,” she replied.
“True,” ho said. “I haven’t seen
anything this morning that isn’t per¬
fect,” and ho looked her straight iu
tho face. Then sho blushed.
The Passing of the Buffalo.
Twenty years ago over 10,000,000
buffaloes roamed about (be Western
prairies. Now not one is to be found,
save in menageries and “preserves."
Thore are 250 in the Yellowstone Na¬
tional Park. A wealthy private land-
owner in Oklahoma has a herd of
about seventy-five. Tlie next largest
collection is in tho Zoological Garden
of Philadelphia and numbers sixteen.
Aside from these, thore are perhaps a
dozen scattered over the land. The
G’incinnttli Zoological Garden has two.
The effort has been made with these
few remnants to preserve the species
to America, but it is in peril of failure
through tho strange fact that all, or
nearly all, the births are males. Last
week, in the Philadelphia Garden,two
female calves were born, but both
weak and sickly. In tho Yellowstone
there has not been a female calf for
five years. It looks as if the Buffalo
must go.—[Cincinnati Inquirer.
A Sett Island Nine Feet Across.
Captain John Richards of the Brit¬
ish ship Cambrian Monarch reports
having passed within half a mile of a
pinnacle rock, showing about seven
feet above the water, in latitude 29 o
2’ north, longitude 137o 50’ weBt.
No soundings were tuken and no dis¬
colored water was seen oxcept close to
the rock. The sea was smooth, and
from the topsailyard the rock ap¬
peared to be about nine feet in diam¬
eter at tho water’s edge, but much
larger under the water. Captain Rich¬
ards says he is sure that it was not a
flotttlujf object.—[Philadelphia Record.