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VOL H!. -
lows is the last State to fall into line
vitb ballot reform law, which is a sort
a
f binatiou of the Massachusetts and
coa]
Ohio la ' -
Piesident Roberts, of the Pennsylvania,
E!#t ei that last year that railroad ear¬
ned 5,500,000 tons of coal monthly. In
years there has been an increase of
ten *pcr carriage of coal and
500 cent, in the
The average production of wool is
bJOt six aud a half pounds per sheep.
ft consume in this country about six
a half pounds of wool per capita and
produce about four and a half pounds
per capits^^“
“There is a curious thing about the
[eng, narrow lakes that border the Mis-
River,” said R. C. Schultz, of
recently. “There is but one
lake of any size on the west side of
the river from Omaha to St. Louis, while
there are hundreds of them on the cast
hide. This seems to indicate that the
bed of the river is gradually moving to¬
ward the west, channel.” leaving lakes at intervals
|o fill the old
The following in the opinion of the
few York Sun is not unworthy of Arneri-
an talent: It is practised on country
A smooth person calls
them, looks over their stock of
and leaves a price list of alleged
coins he is prepared to buy. At a
interval of time a second smooth
person appears, making small purchases.
I He has a few pocket pieces he must dis-
pose of. They turn out to be on the
[first smoothy’s list, and the storekeeper
[<>ires seveial dollars each for the rare
the Canadian dime and other
That is the last heard of the
Confederates, aud uthe storekeeper is
Hcher in experience.
A grim humor is that of a contributoi
o a San Francisco paper, who, in reply
o a question, “What would be th<
Ireatest benefit to California in 1892?”
leplied If that, in his opinion, “the death
Bret Harte would be the most fortun-
happening the annals of 1892 could
He reasons as follows: “So
ns he w ields a pen we continue wild
woolly, lie is a blot on our evolu-
a drag on our civilization. There
no denying Bret IlarteJs genius, but
retards immigration. He has excel-
style,but he prevents the sale of our
California claret might vie with
Julian but for ‘Mr. Hawkius;’ our
could be introduced to Her Ma-
but for the ‘Outcasts of Poker
Flit.’ He has accentuated our earth-
emphasized our aborigines, ex-
our mannerisms, and made
Jathen Chinee" romantic.”
might become the most pow-
nation in proportion to her size, if
were not too revolutionary,” says
i Douglass in the Baltimore Herald.
is her curse. The population is
to be from 800,000 to 1,000,000
There are tnoio white men than
» women, and as the former can
|y hold property through colored wo-
In, intermarriages are quite frequent.
tily qualities in Hayti are in a large
li- ire lost in its military life. Every
Id man in the streets of Port-au-Prince
I soldier. It is not the ignorant many
incite turbulancc aud cause blood-
but the ambitious few. It would
good thing if in this regard theie
luld be less impunity and less right of
Bum, which latter exists freely. Un-
demon of restlessness shall bo
B out her splendid possibilities will be
Bted. With peace established in
Bti, she will lead all the islands of
Sea in the race of civili-
and, whatever may be said to the
Brary, no man desires her peace more
fii President Hippolyte. In my opin-
ay t i will forever remain the black
I's country.”
■r. Cyrus Edson, of New York City,
©De of the American magazines has an
ilent and very suggestive article ou
question, Do wc live loo fast? He
' “The American works harder than
i any other man or woman on earth.
Bbusiness is always with him. He
iio rest, no cessation, no relief from
(train. His daily routine is one of
Ise and ever present excitement.
|t is the outcome? To supply his
|ly irisume exhausted system he is compelled food
large quantities of rich
l> stimulate himself with alcoholic
Hges. One of three results almost
labiy follows: First, he becomes an
Bate »nd is destroyed by the alco-
Ipoison he consumes; second, es-
pg the pitfall of acquired drunken-
be rapidly impairs his digestive or-
I by his abuse of food, and in conse-
ice of tfcat his stomach and intestines
>nger | roperly perform their func-
i; third, the over indulgence of his
tide crowds the excretory ‘
upon ap-
lus an amount of work that sooner
ter embarrasses and disordeis it, fat
emulated, and the muscular system
rgoes what is termed fatty degener-
ROBERTA, CRAWFORD COUNTY. GA„ FRIDAY, APRIL ‘20. 1892.
JUST BE GLAD.
Ob, heart of mine, we shouldn’t
Worry so!
W hat wt’ve missed of calm we couldn't
Have you know!
What we^e met of stormy pain,
And of sorrow’s driving rain,
We can better meet again
If it blow.
We have erred in that dark hour,
We have known.
When the tears fell with the shower
All alone—
Were not shine and sorrow blent
As the gracious Master meant?
Let us temper our content
With His own.
For we know not every sorrow
Can be sad -
So, forgetting all the sorrow
We have had,
Let us fold away our fears
And put by our foolish tears.
And through all the coming years
Just be glad.
—James Whitcomb Riley.
A DEAR ODD GOOSE.
_,.ACK good FURNIVAL
was a man to
know. If you want-
. ed teu dollars he’d
let you have it; if
you got into a
scrape he’d do his
-SLzd utmost to get you
out of it; if you
were down on your
luck and turned
1 —=i* into his chambers
he’d set himself to find oat the cause of
your depression and contrive to lighten
your heait before bidding you good¬
night. There are men whom you can
never address by their Christian name.
It was just as impossible to call him Mr.
Furnival after a few days’ acquaintance.
People who didn't know him set him
down for a fool; those who did know
him declared that he was simply the most
generous, lovable old bachelor living.
Of course he was victimized over and
over again. What good-natured man would can
escape being imposed upon? He
have enjoyed an independency and been
a rich man with a little selfishness in his
disposition. Having none, he had to
work hard to pay the taxes levied on his
generosity. A good half dozen old
women kept themselves alive through his
philanthropy,and thechildren who called
him godfather and came down upon him
at all seasons for material support were
legion. morning he received letter from
One a
Boston. It ran thus:
Dear Jack—I am about to pay the great
debtof nature. Unhappily it is the only one
which will remain unpaid. You lent in*
€400 long ago. i have never forgotten your
kindness to me—a eomparitive affectionate stranger.
The only testimony of remem¬
brance t can give is to appoint you sole
guardian of my child, who will come on to
you as soon as I am under the sod. Adieu
forever, dear Jack. Your friend,
Robert Ralleck.
This letter did not surprise Jack
Furnival—he was so accustomed to find¬
ing himself executor to men who could
rely on no one else to put their affairs
iu order and settle up their arrears.
But it did embarrass him when some
three weeks later a tall young woman of
eighteen or thereabouts walked into his
chambers and anuounced herself as the
child of Robert Halleck, and his ward,
What was he to do with bis ward?
That questiou perplexed Jack Furnival
exceedingly while the young lady was
eating the biscuit and sipping the coffee
which he had instinctively put before
her. She was too old to send to school,
and she was not old enough to put in au
almshouse. As her guardian it was his
first duty to see that she didn’t get into
trouble, and how could he rest secure if
he sent such a bright, fresh, innocent
ss^? 5 "-*—- °'
He solved the difficulty at length in
this way: There was a flat above his own
to let; he took the rooms, had them
furnished and installed Miss Halleck in
them with an old woman to wait upoa
her and be a companion, who was rec-
ommended by half a dozen lespectable
people. impossible to keep Miss
But it was as
Halleck in her room as to retain a bird
in a cage when the door is left open.
When Jack came out of his dressing
room in the morning he found her in his
sitting room, and he couldn't get her out
of it until it was absolutely necessary to
go to bed. But for all that she was not
troublesome. When he bad work to do
she became so still aud silent that he
wouldn’t have known that she was in
the room but for a glimpse of her bright
head over the back of a big chair, where
she sat reading a book selected at his
recommendation, and never stirred till
he signified that the work was done
Then it was as if a pack of children had
suddenly been set free from school She
filled the place with life and sound; she
was all over the room at once with
laugbte-, snatches of song and scraps of
nonsense, ail so fresh and delightful to
Jack’s somewhat blase senses that it
seemed to carry him into a new wor o
which he had had no conception. He
found time to take her out and about a
good deal—at first for her own sake,
L °Thc'old did not
wrnnao upjtaire and sleepy mar- aud
mur she was pious into
loved nothing better than to doze
forgetfulness over a volume of
r as
beeu in her rooms.
Gradually the girl altered. She be-
came less careless and boisterous. She
ceased to tease Furnival and was still
and mouse-like when there was no ne-
cessitv—so far as his work was concerned.
Then she ceased to come down to his
rooms unasked. He tried to treat that
is a joke, and sent an ironically forma!
letter asking to have the pleasure of her
eomnauv to tea. Sac toa.i the note in
all seriousness aud came sharp to the
time he had appointed, looking pale and
a little frightened, as though she ex¬
pected to b8 charged with some fault,
and it needed a rather embarrassing ex¬
planation to make her understand that
the formality was a joke.
All this troubled Jack not a little,
and he tried to get at the reason of her
altered manners and ways. Had she
received bad news from Canada? No.
Was she getting homesick? No, Did
she sigh to see her old friends again?
No; she had no old friends, and the city
was the dearest place in all the world to
her.
Failing to get any satisfactory expla¬
nation from the old woman, Furnival
tried the old woman when Miss llalleck
had gone out for a walk—latterly she
had fallen into the habit of walking out
alone, without hinting at the object of
her walk.
Shaking the old woman out of her
slumbers, he asked her straightly what
was the matter with her vouug lady.
“Lor’, sir! don’t you take any notice
of that,” said the dueuua with a cunning
look in her puckered eyes. “’Tain’t
nothing but what she’ll grow out of.
Every young gal’s like that when she
first falls in love.”
Furnival saw it all clearly enough
now. Her silence—her solitude seeking
—her unexplained promenades—all were
clearly enough accounted for by the fact
that the girl had found some young fel¬
low to love. It was all natural enough,
but somehow Furnival was not satisfied.
y e t he saw how inevitable the thing
waa . “Can’t expect her to keep always
a child for my amusement,” thought
he.
“Kitty,” said he one day, “I’ve found
out your secret.”
“What secret?” she gasped, sinking
into a chair, trembliug and white.
“Don’t be frightened, my child,” he
said, drawing his chair to her side; “we
have been brought into the relation of
father and daughter, and ail the tender¬
ness a daughter commands from her
father I hope you will find in me.”
“Yes, yes, yes."
“The secret I’ve found out is not a
very dreadful one. You are in love.”
She covered her scarlet cheeks with
her hands, and presently mustering up
her courage, she said—
“Yes, I am in love.”
“Well, if the young fellow is worthy
of your love, I canuot object to that.
The only possible haim would be in your
loving some one who was undeserving.”
“Oh, he is the best—best ‘young
fellow’ in the world.”
“That is just the one thiug which is
opeu to question. Your judgment can
scarcely be trusted in such a matter, and
so I must beg you to let me act for you.
Believe me, I shall be indulgeut. Come,
tell me his name."
•‘I mn't. 1 *
“What, he has told you that he loves
you, and not let you know his name?"
“He hasn’t told me that he loves me.”
“Good heavens, Kitty? Then you
don’t know if this fellow loves yon at
all?”
“Oh, I’m nearly certain he loves me.''
“But does he know that you love
him?”
* >i don't think that he does. There's
the difficulty, you see. If I could only
let him know that I love him, I think it
would be all right.” before this marvel
Furnival was silent
0 f ingenuous simplicity, do,
“Well, what do you propose to
Kitty?" he asked, after a pause. I
“i don't know, quite. You see,
should die of shame if I made any ad-
vance and he misconstrued it, or did not
respond ; I should like him to do.”
“Oh, I understand your delicacy, my
dear child.”
“And so I have rather avoided giving
him any testimony of my affection than
make it known to him. But we can’t
g0 on like that forever, can we?
jzz&nzzr “* rnel '
“And so I thought that perhaps the
best thing I could do would be to write
to him—only I don’t quite know how to
begin. Can you help me?"
“I’ll try, though it’s a precious diffi-
cult job for an old bachelor to tackle,
However, we’ll make the attempt. Here s
a scrap of paper.” (He tooic an old eu-
velope from his pocket, tore it open and
spread it on his card-case). “Now, how
shall we begin ?—better say ‘sir’-there s
no knowing what he is-may be the big¬
gest blackguard under the sun.”
“I don't think he is,” said Miss Hal -
leek, in parenthesis. he is, though!” said Fur-
“Ten to one
nival, under his breath, and perhaps at
that moment the wish was father to the
thought. “Well, there wc are—‘sir —
now, what’s to cone next?”
Miss Halleck hid he.-faceiio her hands
again, was .ilenja mmute «
murmured, tremblingly, I love you. that, ^
“Oh, hang it all, 1 can t write
said Furnival.
“Wnynot.it a the truta. And was.
else can I say<
That was a poser.
it must oe-let me see, ” tha’did wha, did you vou
sa ?- „
“ oye J®' 1 '
I J , , " • • ‘ VChnt
,
next -
' iy
:: .
™a «u
«•»
'‘FuDniest MtcrI'w gor wnlten. ’
thought Faraival. “But, lutty, ne
said, “what's the use of this letter now
it's written? We don't know the fellow s
“!• z s this «.* out
JR made for the door. Amazed at out¬
burst of temper FuniiVa . ran after her
and caught her.
“I beg you won t be angry with me.
he implored. “You doa
deeply I feel in this affair, ear. You
M
said you couldn t tea me ms
She hesitated a moment am en .n
desperation cried: - it
“I can t tel. you n s * Ull t
written on the back of the letter y.u
have been making such a muddle over,
you dear old goose ? ”
Furnival glanced at the scrap of paper
in the hearth. The envelope had turned
over and he saw his own name and ad¬
dress.
Then he went down on his knees and
made himself more than ever a “deal
old goose.”
llongh Diamonds and Polished.
Twenty years ago the trade in rough
diamonds was under $5,000,000 a year;
it is now $25,000,000. The price foi
assorted trade lots of fine tb superioi
quality has declined from $25 to $15 pei
carat. Fair to medium go at about $10
and lower grades from $5 clown. Ameri¬
cans arc pronounced the best judges of
diamonds as well as by far the largest
buyers. They are expected to take this
year over $15,000,000 worth, or some
two-thirds of the world’s total product.
The Chinese and Japanese have entered
the market oulv of recent years. Rus¬
sians carry off the liuest of the highly
esteemed bright yellow diamonds.
When the Brazilian mines were opeued
it was said that they produced no dia¬
monds equal to the best of those from
the mines in the Indian Deccan. This
was not true. After the Cape mines in
South Africa were opeued the same thing
was repeated of them. It is not true.
Diamonds strictly of the first water have
always beeu scarce aud perhaps always
will be, but those of thi* quality do not
differ, whether they come from India,
Brazil, or the Cape. The production of
Cape diamonds is restricted now by a
trust, the De Beers Consolidated
Mines, which produces nearly $17,000,-
000 out of the whole $20,000,000 worth
from Scuth Africa. •
It is ascertained that the diamond
ground is the filling of old volcanic
craters. It came up from below bringing
the diamonds already crystallized. The
diamond crystal is eight-sided united or octo-
hedron, two square pyramids by
their bases. When cut as a brilliant the
stone should have sixty-four facets. A
broad plane uppermost is called the
“table," which admits the light, which,
passing downward, strikes against one ot
the facets below the “girdle,” or junc¬
tion of the two pyramids; it rebounds
like a billiard ball from the cushion from
this facet to the facet parallel with it
above the girdle, and thus the play of
light is increased bv the cutting. There
are “pavilions,” ’“skill” and “star”
facets; and according to their number
the brilliant is described as single or
double cut. A rose diamond, such as
may be worked into fancy forms, is so
called because it resembles an opening
rosebud. It has served since 1820 tc
make use of diamonds which are too
shallow to be cut into brilliants, for they
have flat bases, instead ->f theculot apex,
and the hemisphere on top is covered
with small facets.—New York Sun.
The Tramp's Food-Hunting Ingenuity.
Much ingenuity and knowledge ot
human nature are often displayed by the
tramp in his efforts to obtain food. 1
presume all railway surgeons in th«
smaller towns and cities have experiences
similar to my own. I occasionally see
some of the class who seeks my services
gratis, ostcusibly for illness, but ap¬
parently, to mu at least, for the purpose
of mentioning, at an appropriate time,
that he thinks his trouble is almost
wholly due to the fact that he has had
no food for two, three, or more days, ac¬
cording to circumstances. If he has any
illness worthy the name, the ruse suc¬
ceeds ; f#r I cannot send a sick man away
hungry, upon." if I am being mildly imposed
As I stepped out of the door one
morning last winter, a man clothed
about as are the n en who work upon
the track of the railways accosted me
“Good-morning beinTery^umSro^., doctor "
Ur men proportion o/the cases o!
-p-v*. -
hence are seen constantly by the com
pany surgeons. Supposing him to be
one of these men who knew me, bul
whom I failed to recognize, I responded
with a “What can I do for you?” sort of
an air, when the tramp, for such he was,
produced a tomato can from behind hfs
back, and asked, with a smile, “if 1
couldn’t get him a little coffee." 1
cfcpitulated at once, for I do not believe
such talent should go unrewarded, and
took him around to the kitchen to ob¬
tain his refreshment.
Although food is the main thing nec¬
essary to the tramp’s welfare, he oc¬
casionally asks for some cast-off cloth¬
ing. As the weather becomes colder it
is noticeable that these vagrants work
off to the South. Hunger and thirst are
more easily provided against than cold,
and so they move away from the corth-
gtateg An( , t there must be a vast
araount of sufferi am them fr0 m
^ ^ they ^ nQt of .
dinarily * in the line of articles desired by
# t One asked me one day for a
blacking-brush and some blacking, and
another for a hat different from the one
Ue wore, for the weather had grown
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ of
style. The hotels and boarding-houses,
where considerable help is employed, are
great sources of food aud raimeut to the
tramp.many a goo i meal being obtained
for splitting 's&is a little wood “• for some kit-
rsr z
■*»« •»»•«-«•*>■*
To See a Ballet’s Fiiriit.
A j Hte scientific ... authority elates that
by saturating a bullet with vaseline its
flight may be easiiv followed with the
eye fi’om the time it leaves the muzzle of
the rifle until it strikes the target. The
course of the flight is marked by a
beautiful ring of smoke, caused by the
vaseline being ignited on leaving the
muzzle of the gun. This smoke ring
will remain suspended in the air for
some little time after the bullet strikes
jf the day is not too windy.—8t. Louis
Republic.
Automatic bootblacks will be put on
the market soon, Tbev will be run on
,, the mUel-m-the-»lot n ;..L. P i : n *!•«. slot ulan plan.
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
The Dynamite Fiend—A Definition—
Inconstancy, Thy Name is---
Often the Case—The Usual
Order, Etc., Etc.
Ob, never converse with a dynamite fiend,
Though harmless to you he may seem.
For he with his creed is so well magazined,
So brimmed to the lip with his scheme.
So utterly crammed with the same through
That and through. you’d embark,
if on the theme
A deadly explosion would likely ensue
If he’d happen to drop a remark.
—Boston Courier.
A DEFINITION.
Bakwuz—“What’s a fiasco, Charlie?”
Charley Inswim—“It’s when the other
fellow makes a bad break.”
GIVING AS GOOD AS I1E GOT.
“Do you keep butter here?"
“Keep butter, ye greenhorn? I’ve kept
butter this twenty eight years.”
“Well, keep it then. It's too old for
me. ”
-
OFTF.N TIIK case.
Cobwigger—“Boseowau bought nice
things for his house.”
Brown—“Yes, so nice that his wife
won’t let him use them.”—New York
Sun.
THE USUAL OllDER.
Trotter—“I went to church with Miss
Budd once and now the congregation
has us engaged. I
Foster—“Next time you go suppose
the minister will have you married.”—
New York News.
SURE PROOF.
Bagley—“I am satisfied that the habit
of borrowing money in time gets to be a
disease.”
Brace—“Is it ever fatal?”
Bagley—“Certainly; didn’t you ever
stumble upon a dead beat?”
INCONSTANCY, TITV NAME IS -
“It seems to me that you are very
fickle. You have a new girl every
month.”
“No; I’m not the fickle one—it’s a
matter of necessity.”—Truth.
NOT AVAILABLE IN THE CASE.
Cora—“Don't bo scared, Johunie, at
upsetting the bureau. Mother didn’t
scold you when you turned her work-
basket over.”
Little Johnnie—“No. ’cause I told her
the cat did it.”—New York Suu.
A DUAL USE.
Chappie—“i want a ring—an engage¬
ment ring.” something we’re
Jeweler—“Here's
handling a great deal. The diamond can
be easily removed, and is ready mounted
for use as a shirt stud.”—Brooklyn Life.
A COINCIDENCE.
“I never send a story out for publica¬
tion, ” said Dullpath, the realist, “with¬
out first having slept over it."
“I don’t believe I’ve ever read one of
them, either, without doing the same
thing," returned Hawley.—Harper's
Bazar.
HE WOULD TRY.
“Johnny, dear,” said Mrs. Cumso to
her son, “I don't like the way you have
of saying yep instead of yes. Now, tall
me; won’t you honestly try to break
yourself of it?”
“Yep,” replied Jolinuy,with deep sin¬
cerity.—Puck.
FASTER AND FASTER.
Father—“A rolling stone gathers no
moss, my boy.” it
Son (who is that kind)—“But, pop,
gathers momentum.”
Father (sadly) —“Yes, by boy, I have
observed that it gets faster as it nears
the bottom of the hill.”—Detroit Free
Press.
LONG-EXPECTED ARRIVAL.
Fresh Applicant—“Is there an open¬
ing here for a bright young man?”
Senior Proprietor—“What can you
do?”
Applicant (confidently)—“Anything.”
Proprietor — “Very well; take my
chair here and tell me how to run this
business on a profitable basis. We’ve
been waiting forty years for you to be
boru.”
ONE of tqf. PENALTIES.
The little boy picked himself out of
the puddle where his rude playmates bad
thrown him. He wiped the mud* from
his velvet trousers, his silk stockings and
his lace collar, and straightened out his
long, golden curls as well as their de
moralized and bedraggled condition
would permit.
“This,” he said, bitterly, “is what
comes of being mamma's little pet!"—
Chicago Tribune.
BOARD AND CLOTHES.
“Say.” said the elderly farmer-looking
man, “^jvant a little piece put in the
paper that I want a woman who can
cook, wash, iron, milk four cows, an’
manage a market wagOD.”
“All right,” said the advertising
clerk. “Shall I state what wages will be
paid ?”
“Wages nothin'!” shouted the farmer-
looking man. man. “I “I want want to to marry marry her." her.
1 —Indianapolis ^* I’ Journal.
THE ELOPEMENT CALLED OFF-
He bad adjusted the rope ladder and
stood waiting in breathless silence. »ivuv.». Sud- w—
deniy her face appeared at the _ window,
“Darling,” she murmured, “you will
have to go without me."
“What?” he muttered hoarsely,
vou falter at the last moment? Speak,
Miriam, what ia it that keeps yon back?"
The young girl buried her face in her
hands. “I an) sorry, John, but i
not go,” she moaned. “Dear darling
papa has just left a note on my desk say¬
ing I can have that spring bonnet after
all.”—New York Truth.
A BBIMJANT PAST.
Wagg—“Do you see that seedy, shab¬
by, dilapidated, bleary old wreck sitting
over there?"
Salpinx—“Yes, what perfectly
frightful specimen.”
Wagg—“Well, that old man used to
live in a maguificent great stone house
that covered acres of ground.” me.”
Salpinx—“You don’t tell
Wagg—“Yes, it was one of the most
expensive structures in the State. It
cost fully a million.”
Salpinx—“You simply astound me!
Where was it?”
Wagg—“It was the penitentiary.”—
Boston Courier.
IT WAS NOT BILIOUSNESS.
In a restaurant down iu McLeansboro
the other night, says the Mount Carmel
(III.) Register, a party of young fellows
were sittkg and standing around tho
stove waiting for the midnight Louisville
an( j Nashville train to come in.
Q ae 0 f the gang had been out the
uight before with his best girl and was
exceedingly slcopy. Stretching himself
in a chair he was soon in the land of
Nod, the upper half of his head unhinged
and thrown back, aud his mouth so wido
open that it resembled tho cntranco to
the Patton Tunnel,
The boys gazed on him in silence for
a ftw moments; then one of them slipped
out to a drug store, from which he soon
returned with a small piece of asafoatida,
which he deftly placed upon the sleep¬
er’s tongue.
The warmth of the mouth dissolved
the drug in a few seconds, and the
snorer awoke, stretching, gaping and
yawning like a Cherry Grove native with
a premonition of a Patoka Creek chill.
“Boys,” said tho victim, “hang me
if I ain’t as bilious as a goat? I never in
my whole life had such an all-fired rncau
taste in my mouth.” And the shout that
went up drowned the whistle of the
approaching train.
Something Uncommon in Rugs.
I was calling on a friend at a well-
known importing house this week, write*
a New York correspondent, and in th«
course of convcisation he said: “Woulc
you like to see something uncommon in
rugs ?” I of course said “yes,” where
upon he got. a bunch of keys from theii
custodian and took mo into a special
room about the size of an ordinary draw-
ing room, in which were several piles ol
rugs, while others were displayed about
the walls. “It may interest you t«
know,” he said, “that in this little room
is $100,000 worth of rugs, and yet the
real treasures are Kept even more close¬
ly.” He then went to a substantial cup¬
board and unlocking it drew forth H
folded silk rug, which he threw open
with a flourish. It would need a Uus-
kin and a Turner combined to do jus¬
tice to the sight which met the eye.
The rug was nearly square, being about
five by seven feet, and its richness was
dazzling. The price, I was informed,
was $7500. It contained 9,000,000
stitches and was about 300 years old.
How it got to the New York market the
dealer was not all disposed to say, and
this leads me to remark that in these
choice Eastern rugs there is often a hid¬
den chapter of romance, which, if put to
iiterary uses, might furuish more thau
one novel like Wilkie Collins’s “Moon¬
stone” to tho library of “thrill.” These
priceless rugs all have their history;
whether they carry with them into exile
something of that power to bless and
curse, which is supposed to go with some
of these Oriental gems that have been
torn from their holy nooks in the East
to be made traffic ot by the infidels, I
will not undertake to say. Possibly
this superb rug would be as uncomfort¬
able a possession as that complacent
“fallen idol” which caused such distrest
iD the wild narrative of Anstey.
Astronomical Progress.
Remarkable progress has been made in
astronomy within tho last few years, e3-
iu the development cf the tele¬
scope. This instrument is now so con¬
trolled as to be able to keep a visible star
truly and fixedly in view for several
hours together. The same star can be
brought and kept on precisely the same
telescopic position on the next day, and
for successive days. In this way a sen-
sitized surface can be made to receive the
photographic action of the star over a
prolonged period, and a photograph ol
the s;ar be thus obtained. By proceed¬
ing thus, not with a stafc but with a
point ot the heavens that reveals no star
to the eye, even when the telescope is
employed, it is found that photographic
effects of starlike character are obtained,
aud the presence of another invisible eic-
ment is assured. This has beeu done
with so much success and so frequently
ihat some astronomers are already con-
vitveed that there is no point in the
heavens where stars, visible and invisi-
ble, do not exist.—Courier-Journal,
An Old Pear Tree.
Passengers to Lawrence via the Essex
branch of the Eastern Division of the
Boston and Maine railroad may see, i t
passing the high bridge approaching
Davenport, a woaderfut instance of the
vitality of the pear tree by glancing down
into the little hollow on the left. It was
planted by Governor John Eadicott, the
first head of the Massachusetts Bay
Colony, in 1630, and stands on the ones
famous colonial “Orchard Farm,” within
sixty rods, bearing southeast, of the
sturdy Governor's mansion. The old
tree, a mere shell, with apparently all its
>nner integuments gone, nothing but the
„
of that split in twain, still stands, and
. xto ve rnal b ounty
renews ____ again in a won-
derful display of blossoms. But though
its blossoms are fair, its fruit is said to
be gnarly and bitter. The Lee appears
» promise of rounding out tnree
centuries of life—New England Far
luer -
NO. 1#
THY CHARMS
Fair on thy shoulders whits to *e^
Is thy sun-kissed hair;
A silken snare,
Entangling me.
Soft and tender and bright thin« eya,
'J he blue and the gray
Of an autumn day—
Of an autumn sky.
And, love, in thy velvet cheek l think
The pure lilies grow
And the roses blow.
All white and pink.
Thy slender form hath a willowy grace;
And a symmetry
Careless and free.
Doth thee embrace.
But should all these from thee "depart,
Still would remain.
The best again—
Thy loyal heart.
—Anita B. Carey, in Frank Leslie's.
PITH AND POINT.
The lazy man aims at nothing, and
generally hits it.
The old gentleman who dyes his
whiskers gives it to you in plain black
and white.—Columbus Post.
Many a man is considered clever
whose only stock in trade is other peo¬
ple's wit.—New York Journal.
Don't talk about yourself in company
---it can be done much more satisfactorily
after you have left.--Elmira Gazette.
She—I am sorry, but I—I must say no
to your suit.” He—“That’s all right;
now what do you say to me?"—New
York Suu.
Toinsou—“Does your wife open your
letters, Johnson?” Johnson—“Never,
unless they are marked private.”—Seat¬
tle Soundings.
“Robbie,” said the visitor kindly,
“nave you any little brothers and
sisters?" “No,” replied wee Robbie
solemnly, “I'm all the children we've
got.”
A young woman who earns her own
living is a worthy person, but what too
many men want is a young woman who
will earn his besides—-Boston Tran¬
script.
What, Indeed? He—“Can you keep
a secret?" She—“Yes, but I don’t
want to. What's the good of having a
secret that you can’t tell?”—Somerville
lournal.
Young Wife—“Jack, mother says she
wants to lie cremated.” Jack—“All
right I Tell her to put on her things and
I'll take her dowu at once."—Boston
Budget.
Somehow it comes natural to the hum¬
blest wicked man to say “they” when speaking
of people »u4 “we” when he
talks of the faithful aud good.—Atchi¬
son Globe.
“Yes,” said Sprouter,“I can congrat¬
ulate myself that my voice has great
dairying power." “Ye3,” replied Hit-
back, “I have heard it several times,
ind I have noticed that it invariably
carried the audience right out of the
bouse.”—Boston Jester.
Professor—“All statistics prove that
the blond women are more difficult to get
on with than the brunettes.” Aston¬
ished Auditor—“Are you certain of
that?" Professor—“It's a fact." As¬
tonished Auditor—“Then I do believe
uiy wife dyes her hair!”—Judy.
The Professional Lady Carver.
Iu George I's reign it was the bounden
duty of the mistress of a country house
to carve for her guests. Etiquette de¬
manded it of her, and no one might re¬
lieve her of her arduous task, not even .
the master. To the latter was only as¬
signed the easy labor of passing the
bottle and looking on, while each joint
was placed in turn before his wife or
daughter, as the case might be, and by
her rapidly manipulated. Carving be-
came ane of the brauches of a good
feminine education, and there were pro¬
fessional carving masters who taught the
young ladies.
Lady Mary Wortley Montague took
lessons ia the ait three times apweek and
on her father's public days made a
practice of having her own dinner an
bour or two beforehand. A guest who
did not receive his portion from his
aoste-s’ own fair hands would have con¬
sidered himself much aggrieved.
Stite banquets became very elaborate
and expensive in the earlier half of the
Sixteenth Century,which was the period
of pageants and mumming, Exccsses in
feasting in Edward Ill’s reign was so
great that the king framed rules forbid-
diug any common man to have dainty
dishes or costly drink at his table. He
did not, however, practice economy in
his own household, for the marriage
feast of his third son, Lionel, Duke of
Clarence, was exceedingly sumptuous.
There were thirty courses to it, and the
fragments sufficed to feed a thousand
people. marriage banquet of earlier
At a an
date, when Richard, Earl of Cornwall,
wedded Cincia, the daughter of Ray¬
mond, Earl of Provence, the table
groaned beneath the weight of more
than thirty thousand dishes.—Chicago
Herald.
Sitccessitil System of ' Banting,
To those wno have reason to wish
that their too solid flesh would melt the
following list of things to be abstained
from, which is part of a successful sys-
tern of “banting,” may be of interest.
Meat, fish and game, generally speaking. be
may be eaten, but there must nc
soups, no sauces, no butter, no patatoes, and
no salmon, no pork, no veal, no beer
no milk or sugar in the coffee or tea.
No liquid is to be druuk with meals. A
half hour afterward a “straight" cup of
toffee or tea may be taken. To those,
>n the other hand, who wish to piucnp
ap a t»it the advice is given to take at
e&st eight glasses of milk a day, with
:ream in it, in addition to three good
ncals. To take massage instead of ex¬
ercise, remain in bed as much as possi-
ole sad after each bath be rubbed with
fcocciicuf pii.—Chicago Post,