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♦ 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.