Newspaper Page Text
She picket©. Cr ti| §ectlh
W. B. MINCEY, Editor.
VOL. I.
In the Grnnd Court of tho Kremlin at 1
Moscow there is about to be erected a
monument in memory of tho late Czar
which will cost $050,000.
The recent development of industrial
and commercial enterprise in Japan has
been very great. Sinco January, 1887,
three hundred and thirty-one companies
have been started.
King Leopold of Belgium recently
purchased a copy of General Grant’s
book, and he has recommended the study
of American history in the schools and
colleges of his kingdom.
The New York News declares there
is a fortune waiting the man who can
invent some economical method of doing
away witli the. risks of using natural gas.
In Pennsylvania alono it hjas caused
losses by lire amounting to $900,151 in
three years.
The committee having in charge the
Christopher Columbus celebration at
Barcelona, Spain, offers a prize of $10,-
000 for the best book, in any language,
on the geographical discoveries of Portu¬
guese and Spanish explorers prior to the
time of Magellan.
A New York broker made $42,000 in
two days. He put $50,000 with it to
make $150,000 in three days, and lost
tho entire sum in six hours’ turn of tlie
market. In the morning he lived in a
palace. In the evening he was out look¬
ing for apartments.
August Burkhart, of Knoxville, Tenn.,
has sent this extraordinary letter to the
pension agent; “Please strike my name
off the United States pension-rolls, as I
am perfectly cured and need the assist¬
ance of the Government no longer. In¬
closed find my pension.”
A monument to those German soldiers
who fought and fell for the Confederacy
has just been begun at Charleston, S. C.
It will be erected mainly by the four
German companies who fought undei
General Lee, many of whom are among
the solidest men of that city to-day.
Pascal Porter, the boy preacher, who
has bee.n astonishing congregations in
Indiana and Kentucky by his eloquent
and learned sermons, is only eleven years
old and dresses in knickerbockers; a
plaited blouse, a jaunty little hat and
high button shoes complete his attire.
In many respects he. looks like an or¬
dinary schoolboy.
Of the 17,743 Fijians inhabiting the
Fiji Islands, more than nine-tenths at¬
tend church with fair regularity; where
fifty years since there was not a single
Christian, to-day there is not a single
avowed heathen; a 1 the Fiji children
are in the schools; the schools and
churches have wholly displaced the
heathen temples.
The police have seized documents re¬
vealing the widespread nature of the
recently thwarted conspirey in Servia. It
was intended by the plotters to arrest
King Alii an and the leading public men
of the capital and install Prince Kara-
georgevics on the throne,and also to pro¬
mote a revolt in Bosnia. The conspiracy
is attributed to Russian influence.
The character of a certain class of
thieves’ booty seems to be undergoing a
complete revolution. Only a short time
ago their boldness extended to carrying
off stoves. Then it became more expan¬
sive, so as to include house roofs, and
now one of the rascals out in Kansas hits
capped the climax by digging up and
carting away 500 sweet potato plants.
“The years clutch all alike,” philoso¬
phizes the San Francisco Argonaut, “and
Queen Victoria has fallen into tho habit
of taking little ‘cat naps’ in her chair,
even when visitors are present. At such
times the royal lady goes through the
same routine, followed by the most hum¬
ble of her subjects, Her head falls a
little forward, »swaying slightly from
side to side; then she sits bolt upright,
opens her eyes very wide, and assumes
an appearance of great intelligence and
alertness.”
The New York Herald prints a letter
from Lieutenant Commander Charles H.
Rockwell, United States Navy, on the
much mooted question of fog signaling
at sea. ‘This officer,” says the Herald,
“makes it very clear that what is wanted
is a signal quickly and certainly con¬ i \
veyed and instantly understood, His !
plan that there shall be only four such i
signals one for each quadrant of the
compass—seems to be sufficiently com-
prehensive and yet by no means compli-
as Commander n rT Rockwell r** *“ suggests, bs until
some simple, intelligible method can be
devised to prevent collisions in fog.”
JASPER, GEORGIA, THU l {SDAY„ JULY 20, 1888.
MIRAGE.
VVeT read that book, we’ll sing that song,
But when! Oh, when the days are long;
When thoughts are free, and voices clear;
Some happy time within the year—
The days troop by with noiseless tread,
Tho song unsung; tho book unread. m
We’ll see that friend, and make him feel
The weight of friendship, true ns steel;
Rome flower of sympathy bestow—
But time sweeps on with steady flow,
Until with quick, reproachful tear,
We lay our flowers upon bis bier.
And still we walk the desert sands,
And still with trifles fill our hand,
While ever, just beyond our reach,
A fairer purpose shows to each.
The deeds we have not done, but willed,
Remain to haunt us—unfulfilled.
—New York Commercial Advertiser.
LOST AND FOUND.
BY K. K. GRANT.
The summer that I left old “Vassar’s”
classic shades, crowned with honors and
flushed with triumph, father was board¬
ing at Mrs. Elliott’s; indeed he had
lived there for years, while I was pursu¬
ing my studies in the North. He was a
widower of line physique and ample for¬
tune, with no encumbrance save me, his
only child—Eunice Grey.
Mrs. Elliott’s boarding-house was, un¬
like the typical one, elegant in all its ap¬
pointments, with a corps of well-trained
servants, and a mistress that would have
graced the home of the most fastidious and
connoisseur of feminine beauty
worth. We became fast friends at once
—this petite brunette and myself. To
her invalid child I was no less strongly
attached. I wondered often why tire
mother was always robed in the deepest
of mourning. That she was a widow I
kuew; but that her bereavement was of
no recent date I had learned by chance,
from the little one who, in mentioning
her father, told me quaintly she had
never known him, that he had gone up
to God before the fairies had given her
to her mamma.
I asked my father if he could solve
the vexatious mystery of those sable
garments. “Oh, yes,” he answered, “I believe I
can. It is but the fancy of a loving wo¬
man’s heart that sees in the sombre hues
a reflex of the grief that knows no so¬
lace. Seven years ago her husband per¬
ished in a storm that wrecked the pleas¬
ure yacht herself in which they were the cruising.
She interposition escaped death Providence, by mirac¬ be¬
ulous of
ing caught drifted by a passing steamer’s crew,
as she by them clinging to a
broken plank. She was carried aboard,
but lost consciousness, as the rough but
kindly hands drew her from her watery
bed. For months she lay ill, nigh to
death, her mind a blank. When at
length the skill of the experts in the ‘lie-
treat for the Insane’ to which she had
been conveyed effected the restcration
of reason, she learned through the col¬
umns of an old Herald that she alone sur¬
vived that fearful gale. A few weeks
later a new-born baby lay upon her
bosom. Miles away from the scene of
the disaster, in a strange land, little Ada
was born. Mrs. Elliott does not know,
as I do, that official stupidity—or care¬
lessness—had reported husband’s. her death some
three days after her The oc¬
cupant of the bed next hers in the In¬
sane Pavillion having died,and the name
oddly enough being the same as her
own, it was immediately taken for
granted that the deceased was the vic¬
tim of the yacht disaster.
“The northern climate was not suited
to Ada’s delicate constitution. For this
reasonMrs. Elliott came south and opened the
a small select boarding house for
maintainance of herself and little one.
So popular did this become under her
management that she was emboldened
by the success of her humble beginning
to remove to this fine dwelling. And
you see what she accomplished here.
“She was my first love, Eunice. Years
before, I met your mother I knew and
lcved Edith Lattimer; but she gave her
hand and heart to my chum, George El¬
liott, and I went my way with sorrow
for my loss, and gladness for the happi¬
ness of the two so dear to me. I would
make her my wife now; but she is true
to the memory of her husband, and
frankly says that no one can ever be as
dear to her as he. It is sad, this linking
one’s self with those that are gone; but
it is like a woman’s constancy; and I am
not the man to press a suit I know is
vain.”
loved After hearing Elliott this recital I believe I
Mrs. more than ever. I cer¬
tainly devotion felt deeper sympathy her child for her grief.
Her iji was touch¬
ing in the cripple extreme, birth—seemed The little
creature—a from
too fragile for this earth. Her deep
blue eyes looked out wistfully at one
from amidst a mass of fluffy golden
curls So patient, so loving, who could
help being day drawn after toward day, her ? I was
with her reading some
birds, bright the tale, flowers or talking and the to bright her of blue the j
sky; but best of all she loved to hear of
the sea where the waves, in their silvery
tones, sang a requiem over the grave of
the father she had never known. And
she would press her lips to the miniature
that hung by a golden thread from her
neck, and murmur words of love to the
handsome man whose image it bore. She
would sit for hours by the window where
we placed her and watch the shifting
panorama of busy people in the streets
below. And when some sprightly little
elf would dance by in childish glee Ada
would draw her mother gently to her
and kiss away the tears which clouded
those dark eyes for she knew how it
grieved her that her only child should
0 ne would seek to show how little she
recked her own sad lot. Poor child!
she knew not that a child’s heart is an
“WE SEEK THE REWAR OF HONEST LABOR."
open book to its mother. But when Arts
and I were alone, she would* often say.
“Oh, Eunice, why must and I suffer so?
It liurts so bad to cough, yet I can-
not keep it in. And when the doctor
comes in the mornings and sounds my i
lungs, as ho says, I could scream out
loud; but 1 do not cry because mamma ■
is always there. But it hurts so awfu
bad.”
I could only press my lips together t
keep buck the tears, and presently tun
the child’s thoughts elsewhere.
Summer passed. Autumn in th<
South, you know it, fair reader, with its
cool breezes fanning away the sultry
breath of heated days; when birds of
fashion flit back from rural scenes to
brighten the dull city with the spread back of
their gay plumage; when men go |
to the dull routine of business, revivified
by the rest they have taken; and dormant
society That wakes from its sleep. pulse '
fall New Orleans’s beat
with feverish activity, for it witnessed
the opening of tlic “World’s Exposition.”
And right royally the dear old city wel¬
comed a concourse such as had never be¬
fore graced her doors. A concourse
drawn thither by the grand pageant in
which all nationalities forgot their dif¬
ferences, and united in bringing their
treasures to enrich the scene. Mrs
Elliott’s was the vantage point toward
which the affluent visitor to tho South¬
ern metropolis invariably made his way.
To a certain number only she gave ad¬
mission. No thought of persuade a golden her harv
est to be reaped could to
incommode her bonders by an unseemly
crowding in of other guests, so that
while other houses were swarming with
crowds of humanity that jostled one
against the other in the small compass
allotted to them as value received for
the liberal stipend paid, ours was free
from these discomforts. Father was en¬
gaged at the “Exposition Building” all
day and far into the night, superintend¬
ing his interests approached, there. Mrs. Elliott
As winter
but rarely left Ada, for she saw, what
even to strangers was plain, that the lit¬
tle bud was passing away to bloom in
the garden of Paradise. I assumed all
the duties and responsibilities mother and of her the
housekeeping child might that the parted during the
not be
last days of sad, but sweet relegated companion¬
ship. To my father I the col¬
lection of bills, the payment of dues;
keeping strict account of each receipt
and every expenditure.
One night he returned home much
earlier than was his wont. His face was
aslten pale, and his limbs trembled with
excitement. I went with him to his
room to try and persuade him to rest, but
ho silenced my fears of his ill-health,
assuring mi. that all was well with him.
die told me: “Eunice, child, 1
have seen what at first I friend thought the
phantom of a dear old to-day.
Twice did I see the familiar features in
the surging crowd that swept by me. I
followed, scarce crediting him—Edith’s my senses;
and at length I found hus¬
band—my old friend, George Elliott,
Eunice, how cun I tell her?”
“But,” said I, when the first surprise
was past, “how can you explain the mys¬ he
tery of his reappearance? For years
was mourned as dead.”
“Yes; but he, too. was rescued by a
good Samaritan of the deep, and be¬
lieved his wife was lost, owing to the
official stupidity of which I once told
you. The poor woman that was hur¬
ried off to the Potter’s field as soon as
the breath left her body, was, months
later, disinterred, and buried beneath a
marble shaft, iu George’s plot at Green¬
wood. My friend still wore mournig for
his wife when I met him to-day.” have
“So, perhaps, al ter all some men
women’s fancies,” said I.
Father kissed me tenderly—“go pre¬
pare Edith for the meeting. him George his
waits anxiously. I have told of
child, he knows that her stay will not be
for long.” I hurried to obey my father’s
wishes. Something of the joy I felt -at
the anticipation of the glad reunion Ada smiled must
have appeared in my face for
sweetly as I entered. “Sister (she al¬
ways called me so toward the last) Sis¬
ter—has—good news,” said she, faintly.
“I have, darling, good, very, very
good news.”
‘ ‘Will—you—tell—us ?”
Kneeling there beside her, I stroked
the little hand she laid in mine as I an¬
swered, “yes my darling, in a little
whde. Are you first?” strong enough to listen
to a little story
“Yes—yes”—eagerly answered the
child. , *
“Well, then, darling, many there years ago,
we will say seven years since, was
a lady and a gentleman sailing on one of
those pretty white winged yatchs bird that
skim over the billows like a at
“Stop! stop!” cried Edith.
I motioned her to silence, and con¬
tinued; “A tiny black cloud suddenly
arose in the clear blue sky, a harbinger
of the swift oncoming storm; but none
noticed the warning, and the precious
moments passed on. The wind arose,
gaining rapidly in intensity until it cul-
minated in a furious gale. The tiny
yacht danced like a leaf on the storm
tossed waves. But, oh, cruel fate! The
tempest felt no pity for the two hearts
there. Amid the roll of thunder and
the triumphal roaring of the wind, the
wicked deed was done. And when next
the lightning’s flash lit up the scene, the
waves were sighing mournfully for the
little boat that had gone down, down
into the grave beneath the deep blue
sea—”
“Stop! stop!” cried Edith.• “Eunice,
darling, it was a storm such as you have
pictured that robbed me of my husband.”
“The — papa — I— never — knew, ”
echoed the child. “I—will—meet—
him—soon, — dear — mammtna, —and—
tell—him—how —you—loved—him.” her fastened
She paused, amazed and eyes the
themselves in opened surprise softly upon she
door which had as
spoke. No need for me to turn, I knew;
1 felt who stood there. Edith alone had
hr 1 -'* 1 ^othing. “Toll him, darling,’*
sin® v\. mured through her tears, “that
'M® Art I gave him years ago is now as
-»ly his ns then, ami that, when at length the
d.iHh comes, I will gladly welcome
eill that summons me to you and to him.”
'gasped hud for drawn breath as she the spoke, bedside, fora
s) g«-r near to
' her stood beside him. “The
yacht went down, but husband
t e were saved!” I cried out joy-
Edith looked at mo keenly,
di Both?” she ochoed.
>s! yes!” said the child. “Oh,
ma, he is here—the father I never
iew-—and loved so well.” And pale
a (1 exhausted from the effort she had
male, Ada lay fainting on the pillow
wl^ch was scarcely whiter than her face,
Shall I ever forget Edith’s eyes as they
.nut the loving gaze of her husband she
liYV mourned as dead? Oh, tho rapture
of that meeting! saddened as it was by
tifftdrifting away of a little life so near,
so iear to both,
fe sat by that bed through the whole
ol that night- -our Ada’s last night rallied on
earih. l ong past midnight called; she
from her stupor and faintly
“It grows—so dark—oh, mamma—is
this—death?”
■‘LMy darling, my darling!” was the
broken cry in response.
'Oh, wife, think how she has suffered;
ice that all pain will soon be past.”
fice, see, how bright—it grows.
J .l-eii —the sweet—music—hush! It
comes nearer—nearer—oh—the—bright
—the —pretty dark—is light. Mamma—papa—sister
all gone now.”
A faint gasp for breath, a tremor of
the eyelids, and as the gray light of the
early morn stole in, there amidst the
flowers she loved, Ada lay at rest for¬
ever.— Yankee Blade.
^ Elk vs. AYiId Dogs.
A stockman just in from the Wind
River range tells a story of a fierce and
exciting battle between a courageous old
elk and the wild dogs The that infest the
Wind River region. river escapes
from the mountains and hills into what
is known as the basin district, over high
and beautiful falls named tlie Maiden
Hair. AVhile riding near these falls a few
days ago the stockman’s baying, attention was
attracted by a deep and at once
recognizing the sound as coming from
the savage dogs and realizing the ne¬
cessity of getting out of the way, the
horseman rode rapidly to the ton of a
neighboring bill, which commanded an
excejlent view of the falls and also of tlie
surrounding country. He had scarcely
reached the top of the hill when he saw,
Masting along the river, a high ridge running elk,
paroled hot! to a magnificent
1 chased by a dozen or more mount-
aifrSbgs. for The time, racc^had for the evidently elk appeared been
on some
about exhausted and the dogs were not the
in the best of condition. On swept
pursued and the pursuers, every bound
bringing the dogs nearer the haunches of
the tired elk. Suddenly the elk changed side
his course and plunged straight down for the the falls. of
the ridge, making
Overhanging the edge of the river, and
towering directly above the pool at the
foot of the falls, was a huge rock. On
to this rock the bull made his way, and
planting himself within a few feet of the
edge and with lowered antlers, awaited
the attack. He did not have to wait
long. The dogs came with a rush and
hurled themselves at their prey. First
one and then another dog was caught in
the elk’s antlers and sent howling into
the depths below. Just when the fight
was the hottest the rock, or ledge, upon
which the battle was being fought, sud¬
denly gave way, and with a crash the
combatants were dropped of into the the falls, water and
and rocks at the foot
their bruised and bleeding remains were
swept down the stream .—Globe Democrat.
A Plague ol Crickets.
Accounts are published caused by in crickets Paris in of
the devastation
Algeria. The insects resemble, but are
not identical with either locusts or grass¬
hoppers hoppers . ravaged Last the year colony. swarms This of grass¬
year
the Crickets have taken their place.
They spring like grasshoppers, but have
a more rapid and sustained flight. They
form clouds which shut out the light of
the sun. When they alight on the
ground they destroy every trace of vege¬
tation. They sometimes fall exhausted
on the ground in such numbers as to
cover it with a layer of dead bodies,
from which pestilential exhalations arise.
The method still employed to check the
evil in the African possessions of Franc#
is the old and expensive one of digging
long trenches at a right angle to the ad¬
vancing swarms, and placing on the most
distant side a sort of fence, formed by a
web of cloth. The advancing insects
strike against the cloth, fall into the pit,
and arc there covered with lime or mould.
The ’"'erian authorities have spent
$14i in destroying them, and now
con* itc a further the expenditure It of
$20 D complete work. was
rec ,ited that the English authori¬
ties. pros had traced the locusts in
that i . ,4 to their breeding place, and
had there to a great extent succeeded in
destroying them in germ, before they be¬
came developed into the destructive
swarms which periodically devastated
thatisland .—Commercial Advertiser.
Suicide of a Robin Redbreast.
There was a peculiar suicide ..... in Lancy
Park, Elmira, N. Y deserted the.othermorning.
A robin redbreast, by its mate,
sought to drown its misery m death
Taking a long string which he had
picked up to bough, put into its wound nest, he around swung
it around a then it
his neck and expired. The body hung
in the tree all day, and many pedestrians
gazed at it curiously .—Pittsburg Dis¬
patch.
Glass windows commenced to make
their appearance in English private
houses in 1160. Glass was first brought
to England in 068.
$1.00 Per Annum, In Advance.
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
\ New Houp.
Take eight large potatoes ftncl three
onions; cut them in small pieces ami boil
them in a pint of water unt il soft, Pass
them through a fine colander. Have
rcaily two quarts of skimmed milk; boil
it; add a very little powdered mace and
one pieco of loaf sugar, a pincli of
cayenne and the puree of potatoes.
When all boils together, thicken the
soup with two tablespoon fills of potato
flour or ordinary flour. Before pouring in tho
the soup into the tureen, place Fry
latter a tablcspoonful of butter.
some crutons in good beef dripping and
serve thorn with the soup but. on a sep¬
arate dish,— Truth.
A Simplo Sideboard.
A simple and inexpensive sideboard,
which does good duty and is very ap¬
propriate in tho modestly furnished
house, is made of a plain deal table about
two-thirds tho width of the ordinary
kitchen table, with a shelf ttted below.
Stain this to imitate old oak with a mix¬
ture of raw Sienna, burnt Sienna and
Vandyke brown thinned to the proper
consistency with sizing. Hang stained some
plain shelves above, either or
covered with felt cloth, to hold orna¬
mental pieces of china and glass. Lay
upon the top of tho table a scarf of
butcher’s linen, with knotted fringe,
anil further ornamented with drawn
work or outline designs in washable
silks, and then will be had a sideboard of
which no one need be ashamed .—Prairie
Farmer.
Unique Use lor Broomsticks.
Broomsticks are not such useless arti¬
cles after all. Aside from the proverbial
use as a woman’s weapon, the broom¬
stick can serve as an ornament. Three
of these with a hole bored half way be¬
tween the ends and tied together, and
when left to fall into tent-shape form the
legs of a very unique little table. A
square, or circular, or indeed any shaped
piece of board makes a top. Now cover
this top with plush or velvet. Crazy
silk patch work used to be seen, but
this, like its friends, the broomsticks bedquilts, are
being discarded. The arc
pretty, gilded. Tie the legs with broad
ribbon and place on the bow a bunch of
grasses or flowers, Broomsticks ar-
ranged in this tent-like shape can he used
for a gypsy kettle or most any kind oi
hanging basket. — Conuucrruil Adeer'iscr.
A Delicious Sandwich.
A very delicious sandwich, for which
we are indebted to the French, is mads
of puff-paste. After it is fully rolled and
folded, roll it out one-fourth inch in
thickness, uml fold it even'Jr liken sheet
of paper. Then roll this out to an eighth
of an inch in thickness, and about! twelve
inches in width. This sheet of paste must
be arranged in size to form a roll—when
rolled up—of two inches and a half in
diameter. Wet the edge so that it may
not unfold again, then press it flat until
it is reduced to three-fourths of an inch
in thickness; then with a sharp knife cut
it off iu slices one-fourtli of an inch in
thickness; lay these in the pan cut part
down, for they need room and will per¬
haps spread. After they are baked dust
them well with powdered which sugur be and hot re¬
turn to the oven, must very
in order to melt the sugar, which gives a
fine glaze. A salamander will glaze them
quicker than the heat of the oven, or you
may wash them over with the white of an
egg dusted with sugar. When finished
spread raspberry jam on them and fasten
two together. These are very delicious,
and form a tempting looking dish .—New
York Post.
Recipes.
Jam Sauce.— A teacupful of water to
half a pot of jam; stir it and melt it on
the fire*; then strain it and pour it around
your pudding.
Chocolate Pudding. —Melt one half
pound of butter and stir into it one
pound of flour, one-quarter pound sugar, three
one pint of milk and the yolks of be
eggs. This pudding can either
steamed or baked.
Lyonaise Pototoes. —Cut one pint
cold boiled potatoes into small and pieces
and season them with pepper salt;
add one teaspoonful chopped parsley; in
put a teaspoouful butter on the tire a
saucepan: when hot add a slice of onion;
fry brown; add potatoes, and fry to a
light brown.
Puree ok Peas. —Wash a quart of peas
which have been already hulled, put
them in a saucepan with three pints of
water, very little salt and pepper, half
an ounce of ham and an onion cut in
slices. Boil until soft, then drain off
the water and rub the peas through add¬ a
colander. Heat again on the lire,
ing two heaping tablespoonfuls Serve of butter hot.
and a pinch of sugar. very
Si, aw Dressing.— Heat together gill to a
boiling point in a stewpan, a of
vinegar and an ounce of butter. Stir in
an egg well beaten and a gill of sweet
cream. Season to taste and pour over
finely-chopped cabbage. Another way
is to mix together a gill of water and a
gill of vinegar; thicken with half an
ounce of flour. Cook two minutes, add
an ounce of butter and season to taste.
Stewed Rhubarb. —Wash, peel and
cut into two-inch pieces, then into strips,
one pound of rhubarb. Put into a
porcelain-lined saucepan, add three-
f J . uar t ers 0 f a pound of granulated sugar, Lift
C ’ and boil fifteen minutes.
the sa an from the range and twist it
back and forth to £ prevent the rhubarb
burning b or gticki g b to the bottom,
Turn jt into aa earth en dis h or bowl in-
^ad o{ mctal warc .
Brown—‘You are looking Durnley.” bright and
happy this morning, debt Dum-
ley—“Yes, I’m out ol at last.
Every bill I owed was outlawed yester-
day. I tell you, Brown, a man feels like
a man when he is square with the
t world .”—New York Sun.
NO. 40.
THE OLD AND NEW.
Old radiant faces are tho l>ORt,
However good the new,
The tlrst, have smiled ami stood the test
Of many years review.
< )ld voices yield tlie richest song,
Though dark tho clouds above,
Their echolngs are sweet and long
With changeless notes of love.
Old lips thrill with a monotone,
Old hearts have stoady heats,
Their fashioning was in the zone
Of truth, and not deceits.
Old eyes glow with a steady light
When new ones turn away,
Old hands renew their youthful might
In sorrow's darkest day.
So I will cling to friendships old,
And stand always for right,
^.Inconstant hearts can never hold
A solaco for life’s night. - )
—Jb iyu F.. Orr, in Virginian.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
Ancient Greece—Old butter.
Musical circles—AVliolc notes.
Butchers are great hands to “cut up.”
With tho horseman, life is but a span.
An unpopular bill sticker—Tito mos-
quite.
Hunger and a thrashing make many a
boy holler.
Before arithmetic was invented people
multiplied on the face of the earth.
It is traveling the broad road that fre¬
quently puts a man iu a financial strait.
“In the swim” of society the codfish
aristocracy should be able to hold their
own.
No matter how high an awning may he
suspended, it is only a shade above the
street. <
’I’lio saddest words of tongue or pen—•
“There’s too many women ami not
enough men 1”
In a Leadvillc church there is this
notice; “Please do not shoot the organ¬
ist; he is doing his best.” I
It is stated upon reliable authority
that the teacher with a glass eye has at
least one refractory pupil. — Tid-Bite-
Soulful Youth (languidly) Forever!" She Do you
sing ‘Forever and (prac¬
tically)—“No, I stop for meals.”— Life.
Young Man “Will you give assent
to my marriage with your daughter,
sir?” Old Man (firmly)—“No, sir; not
a cent.”
Petrified human beings are very when com¬ they
mon among the heathen, for
worship;au idol they generally turn to
stone. — lifting*.
Can anybody explain why a bottle of
catsup, when it explodes on the table
will sprinkle everything in the room ex-
eept the meat ?—Chicago Tribune.
“Don’t call me ‘ducky,’ John," Said a
fat bride to her husband. “It’s too sug¬
gestive.” “Why, waddle, precious?” know.” “Because
ducks always you
Intellectual combativeness manifests
itself in the human race very early.
Children begin to “ah, goo” before they
can fairly talk.— Commercial Adcc/tiser.
The reporter who wrote up the exhib¬
its at a fair and described a locomotive
made of candied peaches as “tooty fruity”
is at present unemployed .—Boston Trav¬
eller.
A lawyer being asked what a contin¬
gent fee was, said: “If I bring a suit
for you and lose the case I get nothing;
if I win tho suit you get nothing."— 2/eto
York News.
Servant- “The mistress says, mum,
that she is not at home, Who shall I
say railed?” Caller—“You may say that
a lady called who didn’t bring her
name. ”— Epoch.
On a summer’s morning our little
Lillie was walking with her aunt and
discovered a spidei’s welt. She was do-
lighted, and exclaimed; “O, see, here is
a hammock for bugs!”— Christian Advo¬
cate.
“Porter, hat mu time to do some¬
thing for met" “Yes, sir; what shall
it be?” “Bring my trunk from tho
depot.” “Excuse me, sir, but my
specialties are love letters and bouquets!”
—Flierjende Blatter.
A lady writing on kissing says that a
kiss on the forehead denotes reverence
for the intellect. She doesn’t say.so, but
a kiss on the back’ of the neck is a proof still.
that the young woman didn’t hold
—Norristown Herald.
Charlotte (who has an income of 30,000
marks)—“In fact, sir, my heart already
belongs to another.” Karl (her persist¬
ent suitor)—“Ah! Then he may be
easily satisfied; and as forme, I shall be
content with the rest.”— Humoristiches.
Passenger (on Western railroad)—•
“How long will we stop at the next sta¬
tion for lunch, conductor?” Conductor
—“Idunno yet. I tolegraphed ahead
for a fried chicken, and if it’s ready
when we get there we won’t stop more’n.
ten minutes.” 'lid-Bits.
Landlady (to applicant for board)—
“Have you any children madam?’’ Ap¬
plicant—“No.” Landlady—“You are
fortunate, for we never take families who
have children.”- Landlady—“Yes, Applicant—“Have two." you
any children?”
Applicant—“Well, board you with are families unfortunate, who
for we never
have children .”—New York Sun.
“Yes, sirree! I’m a self-made man;
and I don’t wish you to forget it, Mr.
Filkin—a self-made man, sir 1” “Ah, in¬
deed!” replied Filkin. “I’m really very
glad to hear it, Mr. Bjones. Do you
know, 1 always thought there was and some¬ I
thing amateurish about you, see
now why it is. I didn’t like to think
that you were a product of nature.”—
Harper's, Bazar.
A woman in New York died recently
from the effects of swallowing four false
teeth on a rubber plate