Newspaper Page Text
OFFICIAL ORGAN
-Ol*— *
county.
VOL. 111. NO. 15.
" The people of the United other State*,]
•omparitiff themselves with mi*
lions ought to fed well satisfied will)
(heir’lot, 0 York News.
^" <hq New
Whiio our national debt per capita is
pnlylim or, including state and
county dobts. *20.46, that of I ranee
is *116.85; of the Netherlands, $965.8;
of*(treat Britain, $87.79; favorable and feature of Italy, of
876.0b. Another
financial condition is that while
our public indebtedness of
the aggregate nearly doubled bc-
foreign nntions
(ween 1889 and 1890, that of the
United States was reduced nearly onc-
lialf. Taken altogether, the world is
bout fifty thousand million dollars in
Icbt.____
qiis Indians of the Iowa tribe are
all told hut 100 of them, about twemy-
five families, between this and seed¬
ing time that they will receive $25,000
worth of seeds, implements and $1000
worth of live stock to each family.
This alone seems pretty liberal, but
besides the stocking up of their farms,
continues the New Orleans Picayune,
thev arc to be paid $100 per capita
annually for fifteen years, or over
*400 to each family. They have each
a good farm, which by leasing, will
bring at least $500 apiece each year.
Then to make sure that no injustice is
done to the poor Indians, the^ Govern¬
ment pays for the education of their
children and exempts them front taxa¬
tion. It is not bad to be an Indian.
Santo of the Maine coast dwellers
t>re tto better off in respect to school
and church privileges, states the Chi¬
cago Herald, that the people of the re¬
mote Aroostook wilderness, who
never see anything much except trees
and bears. A man who lives on
Great Diamond Island, Portland lower
harbor, lias three children of scltool
age, but there is no school on Gcrat
Diamond and therefore be appealed to
the mayor of Portland for assistance
in the matter. It lias been arranged
that the children shall be transported
daily, at the city’s expense to Peak’s
Island, where there is a school. It
isn’t every poor family who ltavc a
private steamboat at their disposal
daily, as in this case, and the children
enjoy the distinction-aboiit as much as
they do the trip.
A large percentage of accidents or
street railways are due to passenger*
attempting to get on or off the moving
cars. Similar accidents are of frequent
occurrence on steam cars, and tiie
cause is in nearly every case the mis¬
sing of the step or losing the hold oil
the handles. A device has been de¬
signed for the purpose of throwing
the person away from the car should
ho lose his hold and to pnslt him to one
side out of the path of the following
car should he miss the step and fall.
The device consists of a plate or board
extending from the top part of the
fender to a point near the track rail.
This plate projects laterally from the
car fender, to which it is made ad¬
justable by means of vertical slots,
corresponding slots being made in the
fender. Should a passe tiger miss his
grip of the handle of the car the guard
throws him clear of the step, ami in
case he slipped or stumbled in leaving
the car the dependent part of the
guard would push hint out of harm’s
way.
The retirement of privates frotr.
the regular army is of the most in¬
frequent occurrence, says the Wash¬
ington Post, from the simple fact it is
seldom they ever remain long enough
in the service to reach the age of sixty-
two years. Private Thomas Kelly oi
Battery K at the Washington barracks,
however, has added another to the list
end well earned his retirement, which
has already been announced, Ho
landed at Boston harbor, and in 1862
enlisted in Company II of the Thirty-
ninth Regiment of Massachusetts
Volunteers. His regiment was as¬
signed to the Fifth Corps, under Gen¬
eral Warren. The first battle that
Kelly w’as iu was that at South Moun¬
tain and the second was at Laurel
Hill, Va., where lie was severely
wounded. Having been left on tho
field lie was taken prisoner, and that
ended his appearance on the field so
far as open hospitalities were coil-
cerned. At the close of the war he
received an honorable discharge and
returned to Boston; but he had grown
used to being a soldier, and in less
than a year thereafter he enlisted in
the regular army, and has served con-
tiniiously since.
b onders in Eyes and Muscles.
The microsope has revealed many
bonders, among others that the com¬
mon caterpillar has 4000 mtjscles in
his body; that the drone bee’s eyes
each contains 1300 mirrors, and that
the large, promiuent eyes of the bril¬
liant dragon flies are each furnished
w * ( h 28,000 polished lenses.—[SL
Louis Republio.
THE ENTERPRISE.
Down Ihe Stream.
Love! II began with a glance,
drew with the growing of flowers,
Smiled in a dreamful trance,
Beckoned not the passage of hours;
Our passions’ flood rose ever,
Flowing for her and me,
Till the brook became a river
And tbo river became a sea.
Brief! It began with a word,
Grew with the winds that raved;
A prayer for pardon unheard,
l’ardon in turn uncraved;
The bridge so easy to sever,
The stream so swift to be free!
Till the brook became a river,
And the river became a sea.
Life! It began with a sigh,
Brew with leaves that are dead;
Its pleasures with wings to tty.
Its sorrows with limbs of lead;
And rest remainetb never
For the wearier hours to be,
Till the brook shall become a river,
And the river become a sea.
— [Lord Houghton.
BETSEY’S IDEA,
HY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.
Mrs. Kvbers’s drawing-room itad
never looked lovelier than on this raw
December afternoon. Long-stemmed
roses in Royal Worcester vases, threw
out flagrant hints of June; a cannel
coal fire blazed in a huge colonial fire¬
place, and Lillian’s hair flashed back
its golden wires, half hidden by a fan¬
tastic Roman scarf.
Opposite the window, a strange
weird landscape in ofls occupied the
place of honor. Many an artist owed
his life’s success to entering the “Roy¬
al Road” through Mrs. Kyber’s after¬
noon receptions and the obscure des-
ciples of art vied with each other for
her favor.
The room was full of people, quiet
of voice, elegant of attire. Mrs. Ky¬
ber stood by the doorway, smiling
and gracious.
Lilian, at the oilier end of the
room, was dispensing bread and
butter, orange-pekoe tea and brown,
frothing chocolate, and as the guests
came and went, Mrs. Kyber was men¬
tally coming to the agreeable conclu¬
sion that her afternoon was a success,
when suddenly her “dearest foe,” one
Mrs. Magnus Martindale, fluttered tip
to her.
“Good-by, dear!” she said. “So
glad your rooms are so full 1 But you
always did attract people.”
“Thank you!” said Mrs. Kyber,
serenely.
“And it’s so ridiculous, isn’t it,”
added Mrs. Martindale, adjusting tho
fifth button of her glove, “that you
and I should have chanced to fix upon
the same evening for ottr reception?”
“It’s rather a otincidence,” observed
Mrs. lvybcr.
“But then, you see, Signora Sivardi
could only coino to me on Tuesday.
And Signora Sivardi is such an at¬
traction! Good by 1 I really mustn’t
keep the horses waiting any longer.”
Mrs. Kyber’8 color had risen, and
then p tied. Sho looked at Lilian.
Lilian returned the glance with inter¬
est, even while she gave old Miss
Pooiey a cup of chocolate and listened
to D ctor Droweli’s tedious remin¬
iscences of his last Dip to Egypt.
“Mother,” she whispered, as she
came past, carrying some sponge cakes
to a lady in the corner, who seemed
temporarily neglected, “as true as you
live that, woman has offered Sivardi
move thah wc did, and the singer lias
thrown us over J”
And Mrs. Kyber only responded by
a look of despair.
While the lady in the corner wits
eating her sponge cakes and drinking
atnber-clear tea, Lilian ran up stairs to
the big western bedroom.
“Betsey,” she cried, cheerfully,
“here is some chocolate and cake for
you, since you won’t come into ti c
drawingroom.”
A round faced, dark eyed girl of
twenty sat curried up in the window
seat, staring out at the leaden sky.
It was Betsey Bloom, a second
cousin of Miss Kyber.
“Mel” echoed Betsey, with an im¬
patient movement of her shoulders.
“In the drawingroom? I should look
pretty there, shouldn’t I? But all the
same, Lilian, it’s real good of you to
ask me. Mo liter said you city folks
would be ashamed of me, hut you are
not—not a bit!”
Lilian sat down beside her on the
window seat, and put her arm caress¬
ingly around the ill-gowned waist.
“Betsey,” said she, “you’ve been
crying. '
“No, I hain’t!”
“Yes, Betsey, yon have, Tell me
what the matter is.”
“The matter is,”cried Betsey, “that
I’m a failure! I’ve got to go back to
Cockletown and own up that I’m beat,
I thought l was going lo make a
living in New York, and 1 hain’t no
show at all. I thought, ’cause I could
sing in the church choir, that I could
give lessons and get engagements
here, But I can’t!”
Equal Rights to all, Special Privileges to None.
CARNESVILLE, FRANKLIN CO., GA., FRIDAY, APRIL 15.1892.
“But you bare a sweet voice, Bot-
scy!”
“So have nine hundred and ninety-
nine other people. Ami I’m only
Betsey Bloom of Cocklotown, and I
never shall bo any one else if 1 live to
be n hundred. So l’vo made up my
mind that I’ll go back, and go into
tiio mill, or get a place to leach the
district school. And there’s an end
of all my dreams about a c-c-carcer!”
And Betsey’s big round tears trickled
down her cheeks, and the end of her
nose grew purple, like an under-ripe
plum.
“Yon an’ your ina ’vc been awful
good to me, Lilian,” whispered she.
“I won’t never forget it. 1 know 1’tn
an awkward country girl, and I know
that my clothes ain’t up to the New
York mark, and l don’t even pro¬
nounce my words like you do; but—
but you’ve treated me just as if I was
a queen 1”
“Don’t cry, Betsey,” soothed Lil¬
ian. “Drink this hot, chocolate, and
then lio die on the sofa and rest.
You’re tired and nervous.”
“I don’t know about being ner¬
vous,” snorted Betsey, “but L am
tired. I guess you’d bo tired n-tramp-
in’ tip and down to educational bu¬
reaus, and intelligence offices, and
musical headquarters and all that sort
o’ thing. I dunno why I can't have
the luck o’ that Madam Sivardi that' 8
to sing at your ma’i reception, and
gets fifty dollars a night. It’ll take
me long enough I know to earn fifty
dollars at the Cockletown silk mills,
or even teaching school at Cockletown
Centre.”
Lilian sighed.
“She isn’t going to sing at mamma’s
reception,” said she. “Mrs. Magnus
Martindale lias been tampering with
her. She’s going to play us false. At
least that’s what mamma and I think.”
“Lilian 1”
Betsey Bloom had suddenly straight¬
ened herself up and seized her cousin’s
arm.
“Y'es?”
“Why couldn't I sing at your
mother’s evening?”
“You, Betsey?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t charge a cent.
I’d only be too glad of the chance. I
don’t mean that T could sing Italian
bravttras and that sort of thing; but
I know all the good old-fashioned
songs; and why wouldn’t that please
people just for a change? I could
dress up old woman style, you know,
and it would be a little different from
the common. And I’d sing ‘White
Cockade,’and‘Banks of Allan Water,’
and ‘Bonnie Doon,’ and ‘Cruel Bar¬
bara Allen.” Grandmother Bloom
taught me lots o’ them old-fashioned
songs.”
Lilian’s eyes sparkled. She sprang
to her feet.
“Betsey,” said she, “it’s a good
idea! We’ll try it. I don’t believe
but that it would please mamma’s
friends more than the Sivardi herself.
But don’t tell mamma, l'ou shall do
your practicing when she is out and
we’ll make it a genuine surprise.”
“I’d rather the artist-follow
shouldn’t come,” stipulated Betsey,
rather awkwardly, “lie always
looks at me so sort o’ queer and
amused, as if I wasn’t inore’u than
half civilized.”
“Do mean yon Mr. Lowrie? lie’s tit
best uatured man in the world.”
“All the same he makes me as nerv¬
ous a a cat.”
“Well, perhaps he won’t come. And
now, Betsey, I must hurry back to
mamma’s guests. But I really think
that idea of yours is a capital one.
We’ll think it over, Betsey.”
Mrs. Kyber was very low spirited
about her evening reception.
“It’s so difficult,” said she, “to
make such an affair different from
everybody else’s. I do like my recep¬
tions to be characteristic. Ami Sivardi
would have been such a card to play 1
It was perfectly disgraceful of her to
throw me over at tho elevcntli hour in
that sort of way; and especially after
the invitations had gone out with
‘Musical’ in the corners.”
“Well, mamma, it shall be ‘musi¬
cal !’ reassured Lilian. “Mr. Lowrie
will give you an air on the violin, and
I’ll play some of my old harp solos.”
“That’s all nonsense I”
“Mamma, do you mean to say that
we’re not musical?” laughed merry
Lilian.
But all her badinage failed to bring
a smile to Mrs. Kyber’s perturbed
countenance.
The evening came; the guests as¬
sembled.
Mrs. Martindale** special friend was
there, dispatched by that lady herself,
to bring back a personal and authentic
account of Mrs. Kyber’s discomfiture
and defeat.
Jack Lowrie, the artist, was there
with Ills violin.
“If tlio Held daisy gets frightened
j ai the eleventh hour,” remarked ho,
“I’ll ho ready lo face the emergency.
But sho won't bo frightened. The
field daisy is too ptucky tor that.”
“Jack,” cried Lilian, “why do you
call her the field daisy ?”
“Because she’s so pretty.”
••Betsey Bloom! l’rctty?”
“Y'es. Don’t you think so?”
“I—never did think so,” said Lil¬
ian, slowly. “She 1ms a frosh com¬
plexion and bright, pleasant eyes.
W ell, yes, perhaps she is pretty. But,
Jack, you mustn’t look at Iter too
critically, or you will embarrass her.”
“I! Critically I Why, Llll, I look
at her becauso she is so like a wild,
woodland flower.’’
‘•Is that tho reason,” said Lillian,
laughing.
“Why on earth have you got tip tho
little stage and tho silk drop-curtain?”
asked Mrs. Kyber, with rather u be¬
wildered air.
“Jack thought—”
“Jack Lotvric is too fantastic for
anything,” said Mrs. Kyber, laughing.
“However, I suppose I must indulge
him, since his violin is to be our solo
refuge tonigln. And thcro is such a
crowd 1”
But when tho silken curtain slid
noiselessly aside, showing an old-
fashioned personage with a poke bon¬
net, a black visito and tin immense
green-cotton umbrella bulging out on
every side, with a background of tall
red hollyhocks audit faint-house door,
sketched by Jack Lowrie’s facile
hand, Mrs. Kyber was the most
amazed of any one in the room.
With the long, quivering thrills of
Jack’s violin, the poke-bonneted hero¬
ine burst out into tho sweet, wild
accents of “Cruel Barbara Allen.”
Next came “Old Rosin the Bow,”
“Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doott”
and Mary of Argyle,” and each in its
turn elicited more enthusiastic ap¬
plause.
Old people surreptitiously wiped
their eyes; young ones listened with
deep interest. Everybody whispered,
“Who is it?” And when at last Bet¬
sey Bloom courtesicd low, and the
curtain concealed her poke bonnet
and green cotton umbrella, round
after round of applause filled tbo
room.
“You lmve prop&rcd a most delight¬
ful surprise for us, Mrs. Kyber,” said
old Judge Jugloby, wiping his frost-
white iashes. “I declare that ‘Roll
On, Silver Mcon,' lias taken me back
to my childhood days again. Who’s
the artist? I’m sure she’s tho very
one that my daughter would like to
sing at her Fridays in January.”
And Mrs. La Voile, the most exclu¬
sive and aristocratic great lady in
Fifth avenue, whispered an entreaty
for “that clever creature’s address” in
Mrs. Kyber’s ear.
“She’s got it in her to do wonders,”
said Mrs. La Voile. “Whore did you
pick her up, Mrs. Kyber 1”
“She is tny cousin,” said Mrs.
Kyber. “And I am as much sur¬
prised as any one.”
And when a casual caller, the next
day, told Lilian that the Sivardi Jhad
had a sore throat and sent a “regret”
to Mrs. Magnus Martindale, Mrs.
Kyber felt herself avenged.
“Now, what do you think about
your ‘career,’ Betsey?” cried trium¬
phant Lilian. “Here you have four
engagements ahead, at twenty dollars
an evening, and von are rapidly be¬
coming the fashion. And Jack Lowrie
says you must certainly cultivate your
voice.”
“Did Mr. Lowrie say that?”
Betsey Bloom colored and dropped
her conscious eyes.
“You’re net so afraid of him as you
were, Betsey?”
“No!” whispered Betsey.
“That’s fortunate,” said Lilian.
“Because I shrewdly suspect, Betsey,
that he’s in love with you You see,
Betsey, there are more careers thau
one.”
“Nonsense!” said Betsey.
But her blush was brighter than
ever.—[Saturday Night.
The Value of Snow.
A good-sized snowstorm in any city
means many an additional pair of
shoes, a prescription for the sick child
or material addition to the frugal
meal, even when it does not represent
the difference between some sort of a
meal and none at all. It follows,
therefore, that a failure of snow or a
delay in its coming has a direct effect
upon tho volume of trade, for tho poor
spend their money as soon as they get
it, of sheer necessity, and their small
sums, swelled iuto a large total, help
to keep the machinery of business iu
motion. Iu warmer climts, where
no snow falls, life demands fewer ne¬
cessities, and neither rich nor poor
understand the economic value of the
snow shovel, but in the North, wheie
cold bites and hunger pinches, a heavy
snowfall brings many blessings with
it. — [Manchester (N. H.) Union.
A PIONEER TYPE.
How the Lumbermen of the Alle¬
ghenies Spend Their Days.
A Quaint Relic of Humanity
That is Passing Away,
A typo of pionoer still existing in
llio Allegheny mountains, hut fast
passing away, is the old-time lumber¬
man and wood-chopper. At the pres¬
ent day the number of men engaged
in that hoalthy hut arduous occupa¬
tion is but small compared with Uto
thousands that labored in the pine
forests a few decades since. St ill I ho
lumberman met with occasionally in
the interior of Pennsylvania faithfully
portrays the characteristics of tho class*
The genuine old-time woodsman
will bo scon in midwinter wearing a
fur cap, tho material of which is pos¬
sibly a trophy of his rifle. A heavy
and exceeding y loud pattern flannel
shirt is his only chest covering, for he
scorns tbo coat and vest of the towns¬
people. A pair of commonplace
trousers tucked into long stockings
cover his extremities. Anil such
stockings! Kui. very closely and
heavily, they often partake of all tho
colors of tho rainbow, although tho
favorite combination is red ami white
in alternate rings about an inch in
width. An ever popular yarn is that
peculiarly knotted kind which gives a
pepper-and-salt appearance when knit.
Through tho upper part of thoso
stockings are run gathering strides
ending in fancy tassels in lieu of
garters, and with this kind of foot
covering are usually worn rubber
overshoes, commonly known there¬
abouts as “gurus.”
It is assorted that a combination of
heavy stockings and rubbers is much
more efficacious in keeping out the
cold thau leather boots. Scorning sus¬
penders or “galluses,” (he woodsman
leaves his shoulders tint nun mclcd, and
supports his nether garments by a knit
belt, worn in the mountains during
the winter season years and years be¬
fore the modern dude and Ids scarf
ii$erc thought of. But the crowning
glory of all is the comforter. This
article of apparel is generally a pres¬
ent from a sweetheart, or lacking that
delightful companionship, from a si -
ter, and varies in length from two lo
four yards, being usually about eight-
teen inches in width. Fancy runs riot in
the hues of these scarfs, and when a
mountaineer is twice or thrice en¬
wrapped in tho warm folds ho can
laugh at the most piercing blasts of old
Boreas.
Tho amusements of these sturdy
lumbermen are few. A shooting
match, a dog tight or tho perennial
game of cards constitute almost all
their recreations. Now and thou a
spelling bee at the township school
may allure them to the spot, not as
participants but as spectators; or as a
last resort the general store, from
which they obtain their supplies,
where in the evening local events and
politics may he discussed, and lime-
honored recounted to the edification
of ail, even though the tales be as old
as the surrounding hills.
But the one thing they enjoy most
of all is to attend the revival mecl.ngs.
These meetings, for want of a more
suitable place, are oftentimes held in
schooliiouses, and here congregate in
the twilight of the midwinter evenings
a motley collection of farmers and vil¬
lagers with their families, from big
strapping youths down to infants.
By tacit understanding tho buck
scats arc left for tho use of the lum¬
bermen who burst in boisterously,
stamping the snow off their feet and
pulling away at their heavy mittens.
The converted mountaineer is an
interesting character, lio firmly be
lieves in the church militant, and is
at all times ready to defend his doc¬
trine with his good right arm. A
mountain revival in full swing is a
curious spectacle. What with half a
dozen penitents kneeling upon the
bare, dusty floor before the mourner’s
bench, with some zealous but unedu¬
cated brother pouring forth an ardent
prayer at the top of his voice, empha¬
sized and seconded at every pause by
scores of fervent “aniens” in as many
different tones and cadences, the scene
is apt to leave a vivid impression upon
the mind of the visitor. — [Detroit Free
Dress.
The Wonderful “Lone Star.”
Dr. Barrows calls attention to the
fact that Texas is five times as large
as England, and thirty-four times the
size of the state of Massachusetts.
The entire living population of the
Globe, 1,400,000,000 people, divided
into families of live persons each,
could he located in Texas, eacti fam¬
ily with a house on a half aero lot
and thcro would still remain 70,000
Vacant lots! — [St. Louis Republic.
A Dutch Cat.
Watch dogs nro numerous, but who
cror heard of a watch cat? An old
lady who lives alone in a suborb west
of Denver, however, wouldn’t trade
her pussy Dot for the biggest New¬
foundland in the land. Tito animal is
large, weighing over sixteen pounds,
and on more Ilian ono occasion lias
lie proved hi* ability to protect his
mistress. Tito latest exploit of the
redoubtnblo Dot is thus told by his
admiring mistress:
“It was last Wednesday night,” she
says. “I was not feeling well and
went to bed as soon a9 the servant
left. J sleep up stairs and fastened
every door and window, just ns I
always do. Dot was sleeping on my
bed, just us ho always has dono all his
life.
“Away in tho night I was awakened
by a sudden motion he made, and I
found when 1 put tny hand on liim
that he had raised his head and was
listening, trembling all over, he was
so nervous, I thought he hoard a rat
and was about to go to sleep again,
when ho sprang to his feet and stood
be-ide me, growling once very low.
Then l listened, loo, and 1 distinctly
hoard stealthy footsteps coming up the
stairs.
“I tvys so frightened that a smooth¬
er! ng sensation canto over me and I
canto near dying right there.
“I knew well enough that I was go¬
ing to he killed, that I would be mur¬
dered in a few minutes, but I could
not move or even scream; I just lay
there ns though I were dead. 1 heard
the feet begin to move slowly, slowly
ncross the floor toward tny bed, and
soon lie was touching the bod, and 1
closed my eyes, expecting the final
blow.
“And just at that moment Dot made
an awful leap, and I atn sure he must
have landed square on that man’s
head, for of all tho wild yells that
ever came from a tnorlnl throat that
was tho worst.
i i < Dick I Dick! Gome an’ help.
The devil’s got mo I ’ he screamed and
ran for the door. Dot jumped off, hut
the man must, have been blinded with
blood, for he missed his footing at the
top and fell down the whole flight.
“At the bottom Dot pounced on
him again, and when Iiis comrade ran
to his assistance Dot gave him a taste,
and I heard hint swear that the whole
top of his head was torn off. Tho
first robber was carried out, groaning 1
by way of the cellar window. I
didn’t notify tho police. I didn’t
think it necessary. I don’t know how
they found out how everything in the
house was situated and I don’t care-
They won’t try it again,”—[Chicago
Post.
Seven Thousand Miles of Wheels.
If nil the locomotives in the United
States were coupled to together they
would make a train of solid iron and
steel over 300 miles long. Add the
passenger cars and we would have 300
miles more of wood and iron; this
would give us a gigantic passenger
train GOO miles in length, counting
both engines and cavs. Should we
want a huge “mixed” train we might
add the “box,” “flat” and every other
kind of freight car, and our train
then would then have a total length of
over 7000 miles! The passenger cars
in this gigantic train would be capable
of seating 1,500,000 people, and upon
the freight cars could be loaded the
weight of all tho pyramids of Egypt,
atnl all the State cnpitol buildings in
the United States besides. Verily,
great is the railroad system of Ameri¬
ca,— [St. Louis Republic.
The Chilean Soldier.
Tho Chilean soldier is a peculiarly
organized lighting machine, lie is
pre-eminently and literally blood¬
thirsty, and he loves to see blood flow
from wounds inflicted by his own
hand. He uses the rifle and even the
bayonet, as it were, under protest,
and cun hardly be restrained, when
at close quarters, from throwing down
his firearms and hurling himself upon
tho too knife in hand. An English¬
man attached to the ambulance told
me that after tho battle at Pozo Al¬
monte scores of men lay locked in the
death grip, iheir knives plunged into
one another’s bodies. — [Dark Days in
Chile.
Four Orange Crops Browing on One
Tree.
C. Jones, Superintendent of the
Sanford Water Works, has a fine
orange grove at Longwood, in which
he takes great interest, Ho went
down to see it Wednesday aud tells us
that he found six or seven trees on
which there were four crops of oranges
—the regular crop, which is ripe; the
Jung crop, which is grown in size,
hut green in color; another size about
fill inch in diameter and in addition to
tliis the trees arc in full bloom.—
[Sanford (Fla.) Journal
OFFICIAL ORGAN
—oar tech—
FRANKLIN COUNTY ALLIANCE.
$1.00 PER YEAR.
I'lirle Dave’s Two Habit*.
I know a trick more sum than guessin',
An them who glory In possessln’,
Scarce fall to And a lastin’ blessin’
With which to win.
They don't i red genius’ subtle pickin’,
Nor fame and fortunes lofty kickin’, '
To learn the urt of slickin’
Through thick and thin.
Then there’s another plain creation
Adaptable to every station,
lint especially the poor’s salvation
In the long run.
Surer than mad ambitious ravin’
Firmer than stock quotations waverin'
We liud the humble art of savin’
When all is done.
Now if you think that I’m a foolin’
Or just because I hain’t much schoolin’
You turn your nose up at such rulin’,
Why then, nuff said.
Hilt sure as summer Toilers winter.
No matter what work you pitch inter,
’Tbout them two, you ain't goln’ to gintef
Oit much a bead.
— [Ilrowne I’errltnan, in Yankee Blade.
lirMoliOUK.
The linker is busiest when ho is
loaf-tug.
The man who laughs in his sleeve is
not ono who is out at elbows.
Always ready to take a hand in con¬
versation—deaf and dumb people.
It’s funny thateducation should lift
a man when it causes hitn to got lore.
“About the only time my tailoi
gives his customers regular fits,” said
Buttins, “is when they neglect to pay
their bills.”
An undertaker, with an eye to busi¬
ness, publishes the cheering news:
“Use our own embalming fluid if you
wish pleasant results.”
The average man is satisfied with
keeping up with the procession. If it
is a funeral procession he does not
care lo be at the head of it.
“1 hold you in tho highest respect,”
lie said as he pressed her baud, “I
know it,” site said, ami then with a
blush she added, “It’s the only way in
which you do hold me.”
“I had to be away from school yes¬
terday,” said Tommy. “You must
bring an excuse,” said the teacher.
“Who from?” “Your father.” “He
ain’t no good at making excuses; ms
catches him every time.”
Sweet Girl (affectionately)—Papa,
you wouldn’t like mo to leave you,
would you? Papa (fondly) —Indeed,
I would not, my darling. Sweet
Girl—Well, thou, I’ll marry Mr. l’oor-
eliap. lie’s willing to live here.
IV fnd-Sliuped Snowballs.
A peculiar and extraordinary pho-
nontenott was worked on tho snow-
covered campus of the Theological
.Seminary. Passers-by were aston¬
ished to sco tho immaculate field of
over five acres covered with white
eruptions, varying in size from a mar¬
ble to a pumpkin. Investigation
showed that the snowballs had been
formed by tho high wind of that
night. The snow was of such con¬
sistency Hint tho wind would loosen a
few flakes, which would bo rolled
along accumulating still more flakes,
until its size and weight was too much
for tho strength of tho breeze. Tho
track of the wind’s plaything could be
easily described by early risers. In
tho northern field, where the wind had
free sweep, tho trails were all in one
Direction, but in the space between tho
dormitory’ and tho library, the eddy¬
ing breezes had sent the balls scurry¬
ing in all directions. The curious
sight was witnessed by a large num¬
ber of spectators until (ho noonday
sun dissipated the snowballs.
A number of fanners who came to
town reported that the large fields in
the country, where the wind had full
sweep, presented the same novel ap¬
pearance.— [Auburn (N. Y.) Adver¬
tiser.
Chief of the Wyoming*.
Washakie, the famous chief of the
Wyoming tribe of aboriginals called
the Shoshones, is a venerable looking
t Id fellow, with long white hail
which reaches his shoulders, and ii
dubbed the “George Washington” ol
the tribe. When asked by one, of the
officers how old ho was lie answered,
“I am older than anything about here
except those hills,” pointing to them.
He has a young Indian, dressed in
fantastic costume, as aid-de-camp,
whose business it is to wait on the old
man, fill his pipe with tobacco, and
perforin any other duties essential to
his comfort. Washakie is said to be
over one hundred years old, but is
still quite active, and is in the govern-
inent employ as chief of scouts. He
is a terror a9 a disciplinarian. Re*
ceutly one of bis tiibe was convicted
of having whipped his wife. The
chief sent him word that if he did so
again he would he severely dealt
with. In ft few days the offence was
repeated, and the chief, true lo his
threat, had (he offender shot. — [illus¬
trated American.