Newspaper Page Text
♦
W. B. MINCEY. Editor.
VOL. 1.
^gjjhere exhibition is to Berlin he a grand iu May international of hunting
at
trophies, of all sorts of game, ancient,
and modern arms, anil implements used
iu hunting.
It will interest our readers to learn
that there are in the Sunday-schools of
the Christian world 10,447,090 scholars,
1,952,1G7 teachers, making a grand total
of 18,400,157.
The rapidity with which Anglo-Saxon
literature is pouring into Japan is illus¬
trated by the tact that 85,000 English
and 110,000 American books were im¬
ported last year, an increase of nearly 100
per cent.
........ ....... .. i .n i c i iTtiiHun i airniwanw
Inside of two years the tax valuation
of California has increased at least $300,-
000,000. Population has increased oue-
half of a million souls. The valuation of
Colorado, an irrigation State also, has
increased within two years over $400,-
000,000.
Scientists assert that the newly diseov-
3red cities of Arizona are the same as
sought by Cortez and the early Spanish
adventurers in their expeditions after
gold. The cities are seven in numb
aud show evidences of former civiliza¬
tion and wealth.
There is a great store of gold as well
as of coal in Corea, but an entire lack
of proper mechanical devices for mining.
The production of gold last year was
$5,000,000. The main object of the
Corean Embassy to this government is
understood to be to interest the c'tizeua
of this country in the development oi
Corean resources.
It is stated that a London firm has
just received an order from the Russian
Government for a fleet of balloons for
war purposes. Each balloon is to carry
a car which will accommodate six men,
and will cost, with appurtenances, A §1,-
500. The balloons are being made of a
preparation of asbestos, and they will be
filled with rarefied air.
Rhode Island is the smallest State in
the Union, its extreme length being only
47 miles, and its extreme width 40.
Nevertheless it has, according to the
State census of 1885, just published, no
fewer than 2,303 manufacturing estab¬
lishments, with a total capita! of nearly
$60,000,000, and employing 37,481 men,
21,416 women aud 4,400 children under
fifteen.
Benjamin Franklin, of the Second
Minnesota Volunteers,is the only man on
the government pension rolls who sacri¬
ficed both hands and feet in the late
civil war, and as there is no provision of
law applicable to such special cases a bill
has been presented to Congress increas¬
ing the pension he now receives to $150
a month. He now receives the pay pro¬
vided for a soldier or a sailor who lia«
lost both hands or both feet.
The reports from Frauce are intensely
interesting as concerns the reclamation
of sand dunes. These sand hills are
found by the sea at high tide aud pushed
inland by the west wind over vast areas.
This inland march of the sand became a
cause of terror and there was dread lest
whole departments should become des¬
serts. Villages were obliterated. A
tract six hundred miles, wide was left
without a shrub or plant. These tames
now are covered with valuable forests
by the enterprise of French engineers.
“One by one,” declares the New Y’ork
Graphic, “the idols of our youthful fancy
are being shattered. The George Wash¬
ington hatchet has been declared a myth:
the story of William Tell and the apple
is also apocryphal, anti now Sir Robert
Ball, the Irish Astronomer Royal, has
been at the pains to show that Sir John
Moore could not have been buried “by
the struggling moonbeam’s misty light,’ 1
for he has made careful calculations and
finds that at the time the funeral took
place the moon must have been long be¬
low the horizon.”
. . according ,. to , tire ,
mere is o question,
New ^ York Tribune , that the buffalo is
well-nigh extinct on the plains. There
are a ‘ few in Yellowstone Park protected 1
by , the Government, ,, „ , but they are likely
to be killed at any time. In Texas a
herd of about thirty is owned by one
ranchman. several other small bunches
may , De tounu, h„f tr,p me uays riavq wfipn wnen tncy
rambled at large over the country have
been numbered. Unless some means of
protectin' ’ 7 them is adopted within ten
years „ the'American tne American Bison DiMui mu must become m
an extinct species. Jn Lentral 1 arK,
Director Conklin has several specimens
of Buffalo, but the cow is growing old
and another one has not been secured. ./
1 he buffalo , will not . breed . * in ■ cap ; M i.ity
unless like other domestic animals it has
abundant room for feeding and exercise,
GEORGIA, THURSDAY'.. APRIL 12, 1888.
UNREST.
| The farther you journey and wander
From the sweet simple faith of your youth,
The more you peer into the yonder
And search for the root of all truth,
j No matter what secrets uncover
Their veiled mystic brows in your quest,
Or close on your astral sight hover,
Still, still shall you walk with unrest.
If you seek for strange things you can find
them,
But the finding shall bring you to grief;
The dead lock the portals behind them.
And he who breaks through is a thief.
The soul with such ill-gotten plunder,
With its penmture knowledge oppressed,
Shall grope in unsatisfied wonder
Ahvay try (he shores of unrest.
Though bold hands lift up the thin curt)
That hides thennkown from our sight;
Though a shadowy faith becomes certain
Of the new life that follows death’s night;
Though miracles past comprehending
Shall startle the heart in your breast,
Still, still will your thirst be unending,
And your soul will be sad with unrest.
There are truths too sublime and too holy
To grasp with a mortal mind’s touch. -
We are happier far to be lowly;
Content means not knowing too much.
Peace dwells not with hearts that are yearn¬
ing
To fathom all labyrinths unguessed,
And the soul that is bent on vast learni
Shall find with its knowledge—unrest.
—Ella Wheeler- Wilcox, in Lippiiu alt's.
CHILD AND CLOWN.
A STORY liROM THE FRENCH.
I.
The child lay on his little white bed
deathly pale, and looked, with eves
made all the bigger by fever, straight
before him, steadily, and with the strange
iixedness of the sick, who already per-
ceive what those who are well cannot
see. The mother, at the foot of the bed,
biting her lingers so as not to cry out,
anxious aud tormented with her suffer-
ing, watched the pi ogress of the disease
over the poor, thin face of her little boy,
and the father, a tine fellow, though he
was only a workingman, held back in his
eyes the tears that burned ou their lids.
And the first light of the dawn, clear,
gentle, the light of a fair morning in
June, came into the narrow bedroom on
the Hue ties Abbesses, where lay dying
the iittle Francois, sou of flaeqes Degrand
and of Madelene Logrand, his wife.
He was a boy of seven years. A blonde
and rosy little chap, who, not three
weeks before, had been as lively and as
chipper as a sparrow. But a fever had
seized him, and they had brought him
home one evening from school with his
head so heavy and his hands so hot. And
ever since he had been there on his bed,
and sometimes in his delirium he would
say, that looking his mother at the nicely polished shoes
had carefully set iu the j
corner: “You can throw them away I
dow —little Francois’s shoes. Little
Francois will not wear them any more.
Little Francois will not go to school
again—never, Then never.”
the father would cry out: “Will
you be quiet?” aud the mother would go
and hide her fate in her pillow, so that
little Francois would not hear her weep.
Through the child the night-that had just passed
had had no delirium, but for
two days he had bothered the doctor by
a strange sort of despondency, which re-
sembled a surrender to death as if,
though had but seven years old, the sick bey
life. always experienced the weariness of
lie was tired out, apparently, si-
lent, ward sad, tossing his weak head back-
and forward on the pillow, un-
willing to take anything, having lips! no
longer a smile ou his poor, thin and
with his haggard eyes searching, far’ seeing away!
no one knew what, far off,
“There, above us, perhaps,” thought
Madeleine, who shivered at the thought.
When they wanted him to take his med-
icine, some syrup maybe, or a little beef
tea, he refused everything.
“Do you want anything, Francois?”
“No, I want nothing.”
“You must get him out of this,” said
the doctor. “This torpor should alarms me.
You are his parents; you know
your child. Think of something which
may animate this little fellow, bring
back to earth the mind which is roam
ing among the clouds.” And then he
went away.
“Think of something?” Oh, yes, be-
yondadoubt they knew him well, their
Francois, these good people. 'J'hey knew
how much he was amused, the little fel
low, the when hedges, on Sunday would he would forage in
and come back to
Paris on his father’s shoulder loaded
with hawthorn. Jacques Legrand had
bought for he Francois all sorts of im-
ages, and put them on the child’s bed
and made them dance before the wander-
mg eyes of the little fellow and,all ready
to cry, tried to make him laugh. “Now,
do you see. ’tis the broken bridge. Tra-
la-la. And here is a General. You re-
member we saw a General once in the
Bois de Boulogne? If you will take
your medicine 1 will buy a real Gen-
eral for you, with a cloth coat and gold
epaulettes. Do _,d you want him—the Gen-
Te!1 lne
“No,” replied the child, iu the dry
voice which fever produces.
“Do you want a pistol, some marbles,
a bow and arrows?”
“No,” answered the little voice,almost
cruel iu its distinctness.
iind to all that they said to him, to
all the jumping jacks, to all the balloons
'bat —the they promised him, while the little voice
parents all the looking at
each other in despair—answered :
ao! no!”
“But what do you want, then, my
Francois?” asked the mother. “Come,
dow, there must be -omething is that Tell you
W0U | d like to have What it;
it to me, your mamma?' 1 And sbe laid
her cheek down on the pillow of the
“WE SEEK THE REWARD OF HOWBST LABOR.”
not know; and when they said to him:
“That is Boum-Boum!” he fell back
slowly, sadly, with his head turned to
the pillow and lay there with his eyes
fixed, his big blue eyes that saw beyond
the walls of the little bedroom and that
looked for, that were always looking for
L'outn-Boum's spangles and butterfly as
a lover pursues his dreams.
■““No,” replied the child, with a voice
no linger °t Boum-Boum!” dry, but distressed; “no-
n
/"'n® clown, standing near the little
bed, bent a profound gaze on the face of
%-'sick little man, a grave look, hut of
an infinite sweetness. He Shook his
hpa<, > looked at the anxious father and
broken down mother and said, smiling:
“Be is right; it is not Boum-Boum!”
ani1 “.I j u; shall went not out. see; I shall never see him
child, whose Boum-Boum!” voice seemed now repeated be already the
to
whispering to 1he angels. “Perhaps
B<pnn Bourn is over there go!” yonder, where
little Francois will soon
half suddenly—he had uot been rudely gone
an hour—the door was
opened and in his black and spangled
with a yellow topknot ou his head,
a golden butterfly on his breast and
another ou his back, his mouth opened
into a “ expansive grin, his goad face all
chalked, Boum-Boum, the real Bourn-
Bo*m, the Boum-Boum of the circus,
the Boum-Boum of the litt’e Francois,
Bofam-Boum himself appeared. And on
bijflittle taSion in white his eyes, bed, with laughing, a lively crying, exul-
happy, saved, the child clapped his lit-
tie thin hands, shouted bravo! and cried
with all the joyfulness of a seven-year-
old, Bursting out suddenly like a lighted
rocket: “Boum-Boum! ’Tis he, ’tis he
this time. This is Boum-Boum, sure!
Hurrah for Boum-Boum! (loot! morn-
m g, Boum-Boum!”
IV.
\\ hen the doctor came that day he
found, seated at the bedside of the little
Francois, a white-faced clown who kept
the littte fellow laughing all the time
and who said to the sick boy, stirring a
lump 0 f sugar in the bottom of a cup of
medicine:
You know if you do not drink it,
little Francois, that Boum-Boum will
BOt pome to see you a«ain ”
“Anti the child drank it.
“Isn’t it nice,' nice”’
“Very thank you, Boum-Boum.”
> ‘Doctor,” said the down to the physi-
cian, “do Dot he jealous. It seems tome,
however, that my antics do him as much
p/.n The t : , 8 father ,yn lr and prescription.” this
mother wept, inn/
time it was day because of their happiness.
And every until little Francois was
able to leave his bed a home carriage the stopped
before the workman’s on Rue
des Abbesses, and there stepped from it
a man wrapped in a heavy and beneath, overcoat dressed with
the cape turned up,
for the circus and with jolly, chalked
fare.
“What do I owe you, sir,"said Jacques
Legrand to the clown at the end of his
visits, when the boy went out for the
first time; “because in fact, you see, I
owe you something.”
The clown offered to the patents his
two big hands, the hands of a sweet and
amiable Hercules, “A -good shake of
your hands,” he said. Then kissing both
the child’s cheeks, which had recov-
ered some of their rosiness, he added,
laughing: “The cards: permission to print on
my visiting ‘Boum-Boum, aero-
batic doctor, Physician in Ordinary to
the Little Francois. ”—Boston Transcript.
A Texas Enoch Arden.
About seven years ago in Lamar county
David Pierce had occasion to go to the
southern part of the State, and, bidding
his family, which consisted of his wife
and daughter, an affeetiouale adieu, he
took his departure. The weeks length¬
ened into months, and finally a year had
gone by without day little any tidings five from Pierce,
until one a over years ago
word was received from a friend of the
family that Dave had died somewhere
in the lower part of the State.
Mrs. Pierce mourned the death of her
husband, but after a year she was per¬
suaded to abandon her widow’s weeds
and wed another. The man she married
wa< worthy, and happiness reigned day, when in
the family until the other
the man informed mourned of as his dead appeared. marriage On
being blindly wife's enraged and
Pierce first became
threatened vengeance, but finally calmed
down and called on his wife. She fainted
at the sight of him, but finally rallied
P nd listened to explanations. Pierce,
Q n going South, suddenly became in-
sane and Austin. wa:s placed in the lunatic asy-
ium in
The friend that sent the word to Mrs.
Pierce thought that she he would was doing rather a know humane he
act, and
was dead than to think him insane,
After having been cured of his malady
Pierce returned home with the result as
stated. Finding his wife married to
another man, with two or three small
children and, realizing the unhappiness and
he would cause if he remained
claimed his wife, he silently and tear-
fully turned his back on all that was dear
to him and bid a last farewell to his
home.— Chicago Times.
— _
. „ * . .
‘
A yard employe informs the Harris-
burg (Penn.) Call that car No. 1313 ol
the Green Line is “the evil one’s wagoD
on eight ill-fated wheels.” To his own
knowledge that car has killed sixteen oi
eighteen people maimed who were braking upon
R, and Has half a dozen more.
He affirms there is a streak of had luck
connected with that car, and no one whe
knows would anything about take his it will chances go near th< it.
H e rather on
cow-catcher of an engine all night than
8ta Y by the brakes ol No. 131«. It hai
8 0t a ba( l name and railroaders have, tc ■
some extent, become superstitious os j
account °‘ lt ‘ I
i
sick boy, an<1 she whispered her request
in his ear, as if it were a secret between
them. Then the child, rising in his bed
and stretching out toward something in¬
visible with an eager hand, and replied in suddenly, earnest
a that strange accent supplicating an and
tone, was at once
imperative:
“I want Boum-Houml”
II.
Boum-Boum.
The poor Madeleine threw a frightened the lit-
look at her husband. What did
tie one say? Was it the delirium, the
terrible delirium come back?
Boum-Boum!
She did not know what it meant, and
she was frightened at those queer words,
which the child now repeated with the
wilfulness of a sick person, as if, not
having dared until then to formulate his
dream, he would cling'to it with an in* j
vincible obstinacy. j
“Yes, Boum-Boum! Boum-Boum! I
want Boum-Boum 1” i
The mother had seized in her nervous-
ness Jacques’s hand, and said in a low
voice, as though she were out of her
wits;’ “What does that mean, Jacques?
Oh, it is all over with him.” |
But the father had ou his rough face
a smile that was almost happv. And a j 1
bewildered smile also—the smile of a
condemned chance for man who detects Boum-Boum! a possible He I j
well remembered liberty. the Easter morning j
when he had taken Francois to the cir-!
cus. He had still in his ears laugh—the the child’s |
great burst of joy, his hearty
the laugh of an amused youngster—when
ted clown, with the splendid sparkling, clown, all spot-
gold, with a which many-
colored dress, ou the back of was
set antics a b iu g brown butterfly, played performed tricks the his
the ring, on
riding master, or held himself motionless
?" lhe ground, his head down and his
fee * in the air > or threw up to the chan- j
1 ^^ 1 ier his soft felt hat and caught it j
ndtoitly on his head, aud and where each the trick, men i
a pyramid; at lighting I ;
:. e retrain of a song, up
: lls .. W “roll, bright Jace, the.clown ut- j
tered the same cry, repeated the same i
UC( 'ompanied sometimes by a roll ,
of “rums—Boum-Boum!
T) Boum-Boum. and time that _ .. it i
every
came round, Boum-Boum! the whole cir-
cus burst out in bravos, and the little
It one laughed this his heartiest the Boum-Boum! of the
was Boum-Boum, clown j
ctrcus the man who entertained a good j j
part ot the city, that he wanted to see,
the little Francois, and that he might j
not have and might tot see, because he i I
was there, sick and weak, in his'white
bed!
That evening .Jacques Legrand brought
to the child a jointed clown with span¬
gles sewed on all over, that he had
bought at a high price, the price, in fact,
of four days’ work. But he would har e
given twenty, thirty days’, a year’s labor
to bring back a smile to the pale lips of
the sick boy. The child looked for a
minute at the toy as it shone on the white
bedclothes, then, sadly:
“It is not Boum-Boum! I want to see
Boum-Boum!”
All! Jacques could have wrapped taken
him , in his quilt, carried h m off,
him to the circus, shown him the clown
dancing under the lighted chandelier
at| d said to him: “There is Bourn-
Bourn!”
He did better than that, this good j
Jacques. He went to the circus, he I
? 8 ^®d for the clown’s address, and tim-
idly, with limbs weakened by emotion,
he mounted step by step the staircase
that led to the home of the artist at
Montmartre. It was very bold what he
had come to do there, this man Jacques! and
But after all actors are willing to drawing go
play,to recite fine monologues Perhaps in the the clown
—oh, rooms if of he people. would!—maybe willing
only Fran-
to come aud say good morning to
co j s - What mattered it how they re-
coived him, Jacques Legrand, at Bourn-
Bourn’s home?
It was no longer Boum-Boum! It was
M. Moraine, who, in the rooms of an
a »tist, among books, engravings, an
artistic elegance making a choice back-
ground to a charming man, who received
Jacques in his office like that of recognize a physi-
cian - Jacques staved, did not
the clown, and turned his soft hat waited. over j
and over in his hands. The other
Then the father excused himself. It was
surprising what he had just asked—it
could but not be done—pardon, related the excuse little me— boy.
’‘ a fact it to j
“A tine little boy, monsieur! and so in-
telligent! Always the first, which in iiis he class, did : '
excepting understand, in arithmetic, dreamer this little j
not A -
fellow, do you see? Yes, 5? dreamer. and J
-And the proof—there, the proof—” [
Jaques hesitated, stammered, and then j
plucked “The proof up is courage that he and abruptly said: j
wants to see you,
Biat he there thinks before only him, of like you, star and that, if you he j
were a
would like to have, arid if he looked”—
and sallow the father, whose face was stopped, wan and and J j
with his great care, j
great drops of sweat stood on his brow,
He did not dare to look at the clown, ;
who stood therewith his eyes fixed on
the workman.
Aud what would Boum-Boum say to
him? Would he send him away, take !
him for a fool, put him out of the house?
« You live r” asked Boum-Boum.
“Oh, very near. Rue des Abbesses.”
“Very well,” said the other. “He
wants to see Boum-Boum, you say ? All
right, he shall see Boum-Boum!”
III.
When the door opened before the
clown, Jaques Legrand cried out cheer-
ingly to h'.s bov: “Now, Francois, be
j satisfied, you rogue! See, there is
I Boum-Boum!”
And into the child’s face there came a
| happy li<'bt. He and raised turned liimst his lf in head Us |
mother’s arms j
, toward the two men, looked for a mo-
ment tosee who was this gentleman side, the in
the frock coat at his father’ ;
gentleman whose good, jolly face was
j then smiling on him, and whom he did
$1*00 Per Annum, In Advance*
HOUSEHOLD MATTERS.
About. AVuttb Cloths nut) To wale.
Something Housekeeping good lias been the gathered simple
from Good on
subject of wash-cloths. Juinatu Staf¬
ford gives some appropriate hints
that are worthy the attention of house¬
keepers. similar I have hers, had and un 1 experience commend
very to so
her advice cordially: ‘•Wash-cloths They are
indicative of refinement. mean
the using of the right thing for the right
purpose, and that is certainly indicative
at’ education and culture. It is easy to
thoroughly wash and thoroughly rinso
with a wash-cloth, and the towel can
then he used with some degree of com¬
fort and agrceableness. It is surprising
how many nice homes, well furnished
and nicely do appointed in supply most
other ways, not have a *1
of wash-cloths. So true is this, that
never go away to visit for one day oi
week, or month, without several wash¬
cloths in my satchel or trunk; and, as I
said to a friend a few days ago: *1 visit
real nice people, too.’ There is an idea
prevalent that, any sort of a rag will do
fora wash-cloth—an old stocking-leg, a
salt bag, a piece of gauze underwear, an
old napkin or piece of towel. These are
better than nothing, and indicate a
reaching toward nicety. But you will
find that the people who use these sorts
of things are very dish-cloths apt to take pains towels. to
provide proper aud
It is strange to me that this is true.
There should he a generous supply of
wash-cloths, as there should be of towels.
Quite as many, I think, of one as of
the other are used in my own home, each
week, and quite as much stress is laid
upon the proper use and care of one as
ot the other. ‘Lots’ of wash-cloths is
the rule.
“Now, as to the kind: 1 find that
those that can be bought all ready in
the large dry goods si ores, are not only
too thick and rather large, but are quite is
expensive. Much Die best way to
buy white or unhleaohcd Turkish towel¬
ing, of a quality that costs fifty or sixty
cents a yard, and cut each yard strip into
three lengthwise strips, and <a h
into four pieces. This will give you
from a yard of toweling, one dozen
wash-cloths a quarter of a yard with square.
These can be neatly bound white
silesia cut bias, but this mode of finish¬
ing does not with compare for holing’ prettiness or
agreeableness working ‘ button them Get
allround with red cotton.
a coarse cotton and put the stitches
about one-half dozen worlA to Jhe inch. This
is very nice good fancy littf/-V/rls or an evening, \v
or is for the to do.
A very important word ,6 say is about
boys and wash cloths. Get them to¬
gether. It will amply thoroughly, repay you.
Teach boys to use them
rinse and hang them up properly, and
you have made quite a stride in
your refinement teachings. and It is will a
‘ home-y with ’ thing to do,
carry it more than appears
upofl the surface, A final word about
have the washing of wash-cloths. the Have all each that
been used, put into wash
week. Let them be boiled as the towels
are; but do not have them ironed. If
they are carefully smoothed and folded
they are better than if ironed. My word
for it, when you come to put the neat
little pile away into your linen drawer
you will consciously give it a glance of
pride indicate and culture.” a pat of satisfaction that will
A word may well be added about the
towels. Have an abundant supply of
them, and let them he pretty. I sug¬
gest this, not for visitors alone, but for
every member of the family. 'The little
folks will find the every morning toilet
far less of a task if the toilet accessories
be bright with and cheerful. ancient Clean odor wash¬ about
cloths, never an
them, in good order, variety and not ragged towels and
forlorn looking, borders, a of nice
with pretty one or two respect¬
able looking cakes of soap that have a
refreshing fragrance, brushes well made
and kept in good order, and everything
else to match, should be provided for
every member of the family.— New York
Observer.
Recipes.
Stewed Potatoes, —Cut in small
pieces enough cold boiled potatoes to fill
a vegetable dish, put them in one pint
of milk, half a cup of butter, salt, and
pepper to taste; thicken with one tea-
spoonful of flour; stew five minutes and
serve.
Cold Water Pjj:.—-A good substitute
for custard pie when milk is scarce. Two
tablespoonfuls of flour, level, two table-
spoonfuls blrn °* butter of sugar, the size heaped, of hickory one egg, nut, a
P a
nutmeg to taste, and a good half-pint of
water. This makes one pie.
Baked Rabbit. —Skin, singe, and
wash two young rabbits. Boil and mash
four good-sized potatoes; add to them a
largetablespoonfulofbutter.ateaspoon- ful of salt and teaspoonful of onion
a
juice; beat until light. Fill the rabbit
with this, sew up, and truss the feet
close to the stomach. Place a slice of
bacon over each; dust with pepper; add
a half teaspoonful of salt andagillof quiekoven
water to the pan. Bake in a
one hour, basting every ten minutes.
Garnish with fried parsley, and serve
with currant jelly sauce.
Lima Beans.-T he German way of
cookin'' admail Lima beans is recommended,
open can of the beans and rinse
them in fresh cold water. Fry an onion
j n a tablespoonful of drippings, add a
g ji) 0 f beef gravy, a of tablespoonful salt and of
vinegar and a cake sugar;
p (: pper; now add the beans and warm
them in the gravy; dredge in a little
|, r0 wn flour, and when the sauce thickens
slightly serve. Dry beans soaked till
ten d ert then boiled and served with
cream thickened with floured butter, is
(i n j C e aud also an inexpensive disli.
—------------
The volcano appears absurd to be nothing but
an instance of the pimple. exaggeration of
the principle of
NO.
BONNIE ROSABEL.
When drowsy dews begins to [jeep
Amid tile swaying boughs,
Before the stars have gone to sleep
She comes to milk the cows,
ller rosy twinkling fingers sweep
In curves of rhythmic grace,
And os she milks the bubbles leap
To see her pretty face.
Hey lads! IIo luds,
Let the chorus swell,
And pipe with mo
A merry glee
For bonnie Rosabel.
Her breath is like the breeze that plays
Amid the fragrant thorn;
Her voice outsvveets the rill that strays
Through April woods at morn,
Alas! for him who stops to gaze
Upon her locks a-twined;
His guileless feet shall go their
And leave his heart behind.
llcy lads! Ho lads.
Rhymes can never tell
The winsome grace
That lights the face
Clf bonnie Rosabel.
—Home Journal.
HUMOR OF THE DAT.
The right bower—Home.
The best corn remover —The crow.
A. still hunt—A search for moonshiners.
A poet sings: ‘‘Two chords I struck,”
when he ought to have sung, “Two cords
I sawed.”
A winding stare—Watching your best
girl as you hold her skein of floss.— De¬
troit Fne Press.
A young lady has named one of her
admirers lloosac Tuunel because he is
such an everlasting bore.— Warren (O. )
Mirror.
The (act is observed by the Boston
llemhl that we are importing Murphys potatoes from
from Scotland as well as
the Old Sod.
An English art journal has offered a
pvize to any one who will discover the
cause of baldness. We know, but we
darsen’t tell.— Burlington Free Press.
Tramp (to a woman at the door)—
“Will you please gimme a bite, ma’m?”
Woman (closing the door)—“No; git
out! I’m no dog.”— Drake’s Magazine.
Father—“What do you think of a boy
that throws a banana skin on tire side¬
walk^” Son—“I don't know. What do
you jlhink of a banana skin that throws
a n.$.: ov. the :- '.b.valk ?”• - life. ,
A lazy fellow who was idling away his
time was asked by a minister where he
expected to go when he died. “I shall
not go,” was the reply ; “I expect to
be carried.”— Binghamton Leader.
There is a tramp butcher back of the
Ysirds. Whenever he gets a job of lights kill¬
ing sheep betakes the liver and
out, and sometimes he succeeds in taking
the skin off, too.— Qi.od til's Bun.
“I tell you, these lea)) year dances are
a fine thing. My wife took me and paid
all the expenses herself.” “Where did
your wife get the money?” “Oh, I let
her have it.”— Whiteside (III.) Herald.
Buskin says: “Man should resemble a
river. ” We do not know what he
means, but suppose the reason is that in
order to arnouut to much in society he
should own a couple of banks.— Lowell
Citizen.
Tobacco stems are now being used in
making paper; on the principle, fair play, we all sup¬ the
pose, that turn about is
straw and old rags having been utilized
long ago in the manufacture of cigar¬
ettes. — Tid-Bits.
A Pole named Heutzlestezski recently
settled a few miles from Binghamton. of his
From the jagged him appearance be section name of
we should take to a a
barbed-wire fence rather than a pole.—
Norristown Herald.
Now the gay unmarried farmer in the even-
ing takes his charmer, pleas¬
Mary Jane or Sal or Dinah, for some
ant moonlight drives, always
And he tells that always yearning hoary, story, new
before though the spring is she’ll have
And of over
joined the ranks wives.
—Nebraska Mate Journal.
Stranger in Detroit (a hundred years
hence)—“Why do all the people stand
with uncovered heads when that little
man passes?” Detroiter—“Haven't you
heard of him? He’s the great society
leader. He belongs to one of the old
families.” Stranger—“Old families?”
Detroiter—“Yes, siree. His great-grand¬ the De¬
father was the first Captain of
troit nine.— Life.
No, sir, I will have you to know.
Vie will have no vast union depo, lot
’Twill ne’er be our undeserved
To harbor a union depot;
1 rare not how loudly you daypo. say so
We’re wanting no union
We’re as far as we are union from Aleppo
From the ghost of a think deppo, that ’twill be
And I trust you don’t so
For we’ll have no grand union deepo. emanci¬
From such foreign concoctions we’ve
pation, have unparalleled union station.
We’ll an Courier.
— Buffalo
. . ompcil. .
Discoveries at i
Excavations at Pompeii have yielded
abundance recently. Surgical instru- found,
ment (mostly of bronze) have been
which appear to have been kept in a
wooden box; also a small weights, pair ol apoth- equiv-
ecary’s scales and a set of
a l ent to 14> 17.5, 21, 24.9 and 35.8
grammes respectively. Among mentioned, various
domestic utensils may be as
noteworthy, a beautiful stewpan of
bronze, the silver inlay ol which repre-
sents a head in raised work, and a bronze
lamp, still containing the wick; finally,
various glass vessels, terra cotta, gold
rings and ear pendants. of Amond ' espasian the finds with
of coin are a sesterce
Fort^na on the reverse and the inscrip-
t;on; fortune reduci, and a depen-
^iitmof Aero with the temple of Janus
a11 ^ inscription: ‘‘Pace per ubiq.
part a Jan urn clusit. Christian at Work.
