Newspaper Page Text
Che pchetts Cornitj) fjetdi) ♦
W. B. MUrCEY, Editor.
YOL. II.
During the year 1888 nearly 700 per¬
sons disappeared in Philadelphia, a largo
percentage of whom were never lienrd
of.
There were a greater number of lynch-
ings in this country last year than there
had been in any previous year since
1880, except 1884.
The New Y r ork llerahl doubts if it is
good policy for any American tourist to
go to Cuba, as lawlessness is rife and
Americans are hated.
The City of Afexico is full of tramps,
and the anti-American papers satirically
refer to them as “prominent Americans
visiting the Capital.”
The Cleveland Plain D.altr is prepared
to see spectacle makers grow rich out ot
the next generation, as so many school
children are obliged to wear glasses.
Russia built a railway especially to se¬
cure the trade of Persia, aatl is now ex¬
cessively angry with that country lor
opening the river Karu'i to trade, by
means of which other foreign nations
will be enabled to compete with the
Russians.
The Bermuda Inlands are at last to be
•connected by telegraph wiih the re¬
mainder of civ ;ation. A line from
there to Halifax, ToO miles in length,
will be begun in the spring, and the
British Government will pay a subsidy
of $G0,000 per year.
The Chinese Immigration Bureau of
San Francisco, which has for a long time
been doing a large business evading the
law and helping Alongoiians to land in
this country, has finally shut up shop.
It would seem, infers the Chicago News,
as though the chinks in the lence had
finally been stopped up.
It has been noted in the Chicago
Times as a strange coincidence that I llis
Phelan, an ex-Confederate soldier, was
elected Judge of Probate in Waterburv,
Conn., at the last election, and on the
Bame day a Union veteran was chosen a
member of the Alaba i a Legislature in
the same district where Plielan formerly
lived.
A recent jud'clal ruling upon the
question, YVhen is a man drunk, is:
“When consciousness becomes modified
in any degree whatever through the
influence of alcohol, and when, or as
long as, no exercise of independent
nervous forca is adequate to restore it to
a normal state, the man so affected is
drunk.”
With the first of this year Germany
abandoned the old pound weight and
adopted the metric system in its entirety.
America, which set the example of the
metric system in her decimal coinage,
still lingers behind, says the New Y T ork
Telegram, in adopting this convenient
aud logical progression of weights and
measures.
Cremation societies are being aug¬
mented in this country by women of the
better class, who are joining them
Tapidly. In New Y'ork, Brooklyn and
Boston particularly there are a great
many well-known women enrolled among
the cremationists, and the movement is
endorsed by a sti 1 greater number who
have not taken pains to become mem¬
bers.
The Michigan cattle breeders propose
to ask the Legislature to enact that all
meat supplied to State institutions shall
be from animals fattened and killed in
Michigan. They also ask for a meat in¬
spection law, which shall provide that
all cattle killed for consumption within
towns of more than 5000 inhabitants
shall first have been inspected alive and
on foot.
During 1888 the number of failures in
the United States was 10,000, against
R740 in 1887. But the aggregate liabili¬
ties of the parties failing in 1838, where
about ten per cent, less than in 1887,
while the aggregate assets of the fading
traders are only four per cent, smaller.
This gain in the ratio of assets certainly
“‘indicates increased healtlifulncss in
commercial conditions,” as a leading au¬
thority on the subject puts it.
Tho livery of the coachman of Count
fl’Arco Valiev, the German Minister at
Washington, is creating a sensation in
that city. Gold and lace seem to be the
principal part of it. A double row of
silk buttons runs down the front, while
rows of gilt cord are swung across the
breast and fastened upon the right side,
from which depends a sword. The tall
blue hat is decorated with a plume and
cockade of German colors. No one
seems to know what the sword is for,
unless it is to “cut behind” at the small
boys, whose republican irreverence
causa* them to “steal a ride” on the gor¬
geous equipage.
JASPER, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 7, 1881).
VE3TERDAY.
My friend, ho spoke of a woman face;
It puzzled mo, and I paused to think,
He told of her eyes and mouth, the trace
Of prayer on her brow, and quick as wink
I said: “Oh yes, but you wrong her years.
She's only a child, with faiths and fears
That childhood lit. I tell thee nay;
She was n girl just yesterday."
“The years nro swift and sure, I trow,”
(Quoth he). "You spoak of the long ago.”
Onco I strolled in a garden spot,
And every (lower upraised a head
(.'eo it seemed), for they, 1 wot,
Were mates of mine; each bloom and bed,
Their hours for sleep, their merry mood.
The lives and deaths of the whole sweet
brood,
Were known to me; it was my way
To visit them but yesterday.
Bpako one red rose, in a langungo low:
“We saw you last in the long ago.”
Entering under the lintel w ide,
I saw the room; ’twas all the same;
The oaken pros: and the shelves aside,
The window small for the sunset flame,
The book I loved on the table large;
I ope’d and lo! in the yellow marge
The leaf 1 placed was shrunk and gray,
I swear it was green but yesterday.
Then a voice stole out of the sunset glow:
“You lived here, man, in the long ago.”
Tis the same old talc, though it comes to mo
By a hundred paths of pain and glee,
Till I guess the truth at last, and kne/
That yesterday is the long ago.
—Richard K. Bart an, in Harp r's
DORA'S SISTER
‘ I do hope yo:rH like her, Burton,”
said Dora, leaning towardher handsome
young brother-in-law, with her preity
eyes bright with eagerness;, “and I
don t know how you can help it. Every-
body does. And I don’t think you’ll
hud her gawky. I know you’ve always
thought me rather provincial, Burton,
c * car ”
~
“No, no,” , her brother-in-law ,
“Oh, yes, yon have; and I know I am.
But Lucy’s ever so much nicer than I
am. She’s prettier in the first place-”
“Impossible.” said Burton, gallantly.
“And then,’ said pretty Mrs. Salkeld,
earnestly, been “shes boarding-school aw'uily bright, bhe's
away at for four
years, the hasn t stayed in Gordon
( entre as J u.d, you know, till Alfred
came and took me away. And she’s
ways so styl.sh, ai:d-. Well, wait
till you see her. 1 know you’ll like her,
Burton.”
“J m certain of it, Dora,” Burton dc-
dared, reassuringly. :
Mrs. Salkeld rose lingeringly, . _ in re-
sponse “t arah to a small cry find from the the pins nursery. in that |
never can
little blessing when he ciies, and I know |
they re there. She’s coming to-morrow, |
you know, Burton. You’ll come right
around to her, won’t you? Ever '
see so
many have promised to caH. :
' C0 ” le immediately after break- (
fast,” . „„ Burton re oined. went!
His sister-in-law laughed as she
through the door, but she looked back
at him with amu-ingseriousness. |
It would not have beenhardior akeen j
observer to guess that she was not with-
out a timid ambition concerning her
brother-in-law and her sister Lucy—
timid, because Bur! on was, in the es-
tnnation oflm brother s wife, as nearly
a perfect being, morally, mentally and
physically, as had ever existed—the one
person who enjoyed an equal distinction
being her husband.
If it had been any girl but Lucy, she
was sure such a thing would never have
entered her head. But Lucy! She
smi ei with sisterly fondness as she
mage among the baby s flannels for the
otienaing pm.
t ora s brother-in-law called promptly
a e cv cn o clock the next morning. lie
was a good-natured and conscientious
young gentleman, and he would have
disappointed Dora on no account.
But his mood, as he rang the bell and
pulled off a g ovc was not polite an especally
e “" cr ° ne ’ “ e ’ ‘°° to form
mate his feeling , even to himself; but
had lie done to, the fact would have
been clear that he didn’t expect much
from 1 oia’s sister.
A pretty girl she might _ be; Dora was
pretty. But a girl fresh from Gordon
Centre, though she had had four years
at a country boarding school! Theyoung
man raised his brows, with a slight
sm ’; e -
Nothing, however, should , prevent his
doing his utmost for Dora’s sister. His
good breeding did not even allow his
dubious smile to remain. He looked
seriously expectant when the door
“Airs. Salkeld is . just _ gone out. Her
dressmaker's little boy is worse, and she
vrent down to sec him,” the servvnt ex-
i!vf- ‘ AIbs t Trumbull is ... in?" Burton
queried.
“Yes, _ Aliss Trumbull this
sir; came
morning.”
Burton gave the girl _ his _ card, put his
hat and overcoat on the rack, and took
a seat in the parlor.
It was some twenty minutes before
Dora’s sister came down.
Burton was deep in the latest maga-
zinc when the door at last admitted her.
She came in with a sweeping rustle of
draperies, a beaming smile and a warm
greeting. Salkeld, ain’t it? Burton,
“Air. I
come pretty near saying. and Dora she al-
ways calls you Burton, it was jest on
the end o’my tongue. Well, I’m real
glad to see you. Dora she’s told me all
about you, but hearing about folks ain’t
like seeing’em.”
She shook hands warmly, rolled an
ottoman in front of the largest chair
with a strong push, sat down with her
“WE SEEK THE REWARD OF HON428T LABOR."
feet on the stool, and smilod yet more
broadly. glad here,
“Well, I’m awful to get
K and
to it; so last week I says to pa: ‘If
Ini going And up to Dora’s, I’m jest going
to and go.* then; pa and says maand all right, to fix up
go, I jest went
right round and put tilings together
“• *•
thSJ«cr;: o aS a Sr^ p ihf
bow of ribbon on top of her head.
Burton murmured something in re-
ponse-he did not know what He sat
stiffened iu the attitude of polite defer-
once which he had assumed, (jute
motion’ess.
lie felt no desire to smile; he was too
much shocked aud apjiallcd for that,
Good heavens! this was far worse than
anything he had imagined. Hishcad
fairly lmzzcd: he sat staring at Dora’s
sister in utter blankness.
“Prettying place you've got here,
her hain’tyou?” Miss Trumbull his proceeded, silence,
cordiality unaffected by
“Considerable bigger’n Gordon Centre,
I guess. I liain’t never b’en in cities
much, and I get kind o’ turned round
in ’em. I don’t know as 1 should like
it living here. It’s so kind o'lonesome,
meeting so many people you ain’t
acquainted there with. Why, in in Gordon
Centre ain’t anybody town you
don’t know; and if you do see a stranger,
it ain’t very hard to find out who ’tis.”
Burton gasped. Was it possible that had
Dora could have believed what she
said about her sister? Yes; lie reflected
that Dora had not seen her before for
some time, and her fondness for her, and
her good tempered admiration of every-
body, had done the rest. did
Burton gazed at her. Her clothes
not fit-she had a siring of beads on, and
a blue bow aud a breast pin at her neck,
and red ribbons on her hair. Pretty?
Yes, she was undeniably pretty; that ho
admitted freely. But stylish, and not
provincial? What could Dora have been
thinking The of?
his forehead young mail passed his hand across
-weakly. ago,”
“I s’pose I’d have bc'n here long
Dora’s sister went on, serenely, “if
hadn't be’u off to school. Dorn, she's
told you I’ve be’n to boarding-school for
four years, 1 s’pose? ’Most all the Gor-
don Centre girls get along with what
learning they can get to home, and he I
think myself it’s plenty. But pa,
thought different, and ma joined in with
him. She’most generally does. I don’t
know as I learnt,much. The East Low-
ville Seminary don’t amount to so terri-
ble much. East Lowville ain't so big as
Gordon Centre; but pa’s satisfied, I
s’pose. Ever be’n out our way ?” !
Burton “I have never had that pleasure,”
contrived to say.
“Well, it’s a real likely place, Gordon
Centre is, if it ain’t so big as some,
There’s considerable going on ’most a l
the year. There’d be’n two sociables ,
the week before I come away, and there
was going to lea warm -sugar party that
night, I hated to miss it. Do you have
much going on here?”
Burton took out his watch and dazedly
consulted it.
“We have no sociables uor warm sugar
parties,” lie lesponded, grimly.
And then he rose.
“I am sorry to be obliged to go; but I
have an engagement at twelve,” he said,
bowing. would have j i
lie retired without further
ceremony, h with outstretched but Dora’s sister hand. intercepted
m
“Goodne s! you hain’t be’n here above
fifteen minutes,” she said, regret uliy.
“Well, comein aga n—drop in any time,
I don’know jest how long I'll 1 c here—
long as Dora’ll keep me, I s’pose.”
dence, She talked on with friendly confi-
standing accompanying him to the door,
and by while he put on his hat
and overcoat.
He was aware, as _ he went rapidly
dowu the street, that she was standing
in the doorway and watching his de-
partuie. the
He spent rest of the day in trying
to forget Dora’s sister, but he found it
deeply not altogether astonished possible; and he horrified. had been too lie
had not expected much, he reflected
somewhat wrathfully over a cigar in And his
otlce; but what he had found.
Dora’s description! Furely love —and
sisterly love particularly—was blind.
He was glad it was the night of the
Gills’s reception If anything was caleu-
lated to remove unpleasant impressions,
it was one of the Giils’s receptions.
wondered, with a qualm, whether Alfred
and Dora would go—and take Miss
Trumbull. Gf course they had cards,
Well, at least he could keep a safe dis-
tance.
' Almost the first person he saw, ns he
I entered the Gills’s spacious but crowded
J j rooms, greeted him was eagerly. his sister-in-law. She
j “We were I do so want afraid Lucy you to wouldn’t have good t>e
here. a
; time, and it will be so much nicer to
j have her out somebody for the first she knows. set, won’t A'ou’ll you? take
un-
less she’s Trumbull engaged.” here?” said Burton,
“Aliss is
wretchedly. course,” Dora rejoined,
“Why, yes, There of she is. Doesn’t she look
briskly. And she’s taking well! Air.
lovely? with her so since
Fanford has been ever we
came, and he never looks at the a girl. But
I don't want him to get first set,
Burton dear. Do hurry!”
She took his arm, led him over to the
group she had been watch ng, and
tripped The away. composed of
group was and the one young
lady and six gentlemen; young
lady was Dora’s sister.
she smiled on Burton graciously, and
went on talking to Air. Sanford, who
looked radiant, bestowing an occasional
smile upon one of the other five young
men, who in turn looked happy.
She wore a charmingly-fashioned,
perfectly-fitting, and she and wonderfully dazzlir.glv pretty
gown, looked p etty
herself. Her solo ornament was a bunch
gauze fan, and
sparkled across it in all the glory of
b.ack eves, whito teeth and pink cheeks.
to “Oh,* admit I don’t know that lam prepared
saying, with that, Mr. Sanford," she was
a light laiwh. “I’m aware
srri-acsswa^
heart as the cynics and pedants who hold
aonof. I believe that a certain amount
of social gaiety is necessary to one’s
liaopineft—yes, and welfare. Emerson
owns its value. Don't you remember
that passage in hia ‘Culture’ ’’--
The orchestra in the next room struck
up at the next moment. Miss Trumbull
looked at her opponent brightly.
“Now. Mr. tanfoid, you will dance
this quadrille as gaily as any of us, and I i
it won’t prove your unworthiness either.
Wo shall see your theories confuted in
practice." t-he laughed mischievously.
Mr. Sanford, with an enrapturod
smile, eagerly offered his arm: so did
the other live young men, frantically.
But Burton quietly intercepted them
all. He placed Miss Trumbull’s hand
within his elbow, with a firmness which
was not to be ignored, and bore hoi
away. lie did not take her to the danc
ing-room; ho led her to a sofa in a dim
corner of the deserted hall, and sat down I
beside her.
“Well?” he said, simply.
Miss Trumbull put her fan to her lips.
There was silence for a space.
“I—I don’t know what made me dc
it,” Dora’s sister murmured, with a qucei
mixture of apology and defiance in her
soft voice, and with her eyes cast down.
“Dnly—Dora had told me all about
you—” this
“Fo you remarked morning,”Bur-
ton interposed, with an attempt at stern
ness.
Dora’s “And sister laughed guiltily. don’t know
I got the idea—I
how; shedidn’t say so,and 1 don’t think
now that it is so—that you were well,
‘proud and haughty,’ as the novels say;
and when she begged me to be just as nice
as I could, became you were so particular
and talked so much about how—how
nice you are,” said Miss Trumbull, with
a blush, “why, it made me feel contrary
right away, and that ridiculous did it.” idea
occurred to me, and—and I
The corner was dim; but he saw quite
j^dnly the pretty repontance aud plead-
ing in her eyes; and Dora's sister saw a
forgiveness in his.
They laughed together, somewhat
shyly.
“Where did you get the—the things?”
lie “Oh, queried, gazing at her Dora’s—she's perfect attire.
the dress was so
much stouter,you know—and the beads
are the baby’s, and I hunted all through
my boxes for the ribbons! That’s what
took me so long.”
“And the East Lowville Seminary—
you fibbed about that?’’ Burton ques-
tioued, moving nearer to her. ‘finished
“Yes. Madame Beauce me.
And you fibbed about your engagement
at twelve?”
“ es,” Burton confessed, inwardly
wondering how he could have done it.
IIow pretty she was!
“Then we’re even!” said Dora’s sister,
laughing with sweet gaiety, as she took
his arm for a quiet promenade. anxious question-
Dora’s doubts and
ings were speedily calmed. Her irre-
proachable brother in law not only liked
her pretty sister exceedingly, but her
pretty sister liked him—so much so ihat
a gay wedding at Gordon Centre that
fall produced another Mrs. Fnlkeld.—
Saturday Night.
---------—---
Wonderful Are the Arabians.
A wonderful people and m ghty arc
tbo Arabians. How much we are in-
debted to them for the tires of Divint
truth they caused to be infused into Euro-
pean literature in tho seventh century,
Much we may yet learn from their strict
system of hygiene. Probably they arc
the best looking race on earth. If not
descendants of <)g, King of ancientBas-
ban—said by historians to have meas-
ured eleven feet six inches in height,
and whose bedstead of iron was nine
cubits and a span—equal to thirteen feet
six inches—they proportions. come very Broad close shouldered, neigh
hors to his
tall, six, six and a half, seven and seven
feet two inches -the average one-hall Height
being from five feet six anil
lies to live feet nine and one-lialf
inches tall. Dwarfs are unknown in
Arabia. The life of that people is one of
plainness and simplicity. THeir food is
mostly vegetable, often only one meal a
day, taken at sundown. Washing the
body in cold water is a specialty for
health, winter and summer. They have
no poor, no insane asylums or hospitals;
and prisons are so few that thousands
don't know of them. They are united
as one man, and their unfortified coun
try is unconquerable as a result. They
are said to be in possession of the spot
where the Garden of Eden once stood,
where herbi of a life giving nature grow
and rare balsams for internal andexter-
nal use are found. Lettuce with them is
h'ghly prized, and if our people should
eat more of it we should need less drugs.
Everything is done in the name of Allah
—God—the Alost semi-barbaric High and Merciful
Lord, and for a race 1
doubt not their happiness is to be coveted.
FreePrem.
The Professor having given out Navi- as
subject for an essay “The Use of
gation,”|one of the students concluded
his production with the somewhat novel
statement: “And thus we may say:
‘The sliip is the camei of the sea.’”—
Faeyende Blactter.
— — -
A parrot will talk on the least provo
cation, but a crow seldom opens it«
mouth without caws .—New York World,
$1*00 Per Annum, In Admne*.
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS,
To Toll the Ago of Egg*
« the age ol eggs, and d.^
f n p* u ' s|,l "g tllo »o ‘ } at ar<! fiesh fiom
,1° 'V™ ' Wt T1 18 lmse ‘ l
ia th ° denslty of , e *S s
n
Tv
sSSS
l,o ;r lf if e
SimnreTbi, A® ZZl.i 7 t/
inY!,!,! i i ni n'.Ml. 1 '. 101 i ’, 111010 1 m
' is older , Hen.
P^'P^on as it .. - , .-1 he
n r
’
T I make my bread about l> o’clock r. m.
. winter, early in T take
in not so summer.
three pints of flour in a pan (which f
* ee P lor ‘h° l>urposc), one large table-
K POon of salt and one small one of lard,
and then add about three pints of quite
warm then water, perhaps batter a little and moro. I
make a smooth add one
compressed yeast cake (dissolved in a
httle warm water), then knead, but not
any more than is necessary. Iicaveminc
tc*' soft, because it is not as light when
kneaded too stiff.
Alter kneading, set in a warm place
over night. In the morning put in tins
*5“ stan d about half an hour to rise,
, k ;l kc in a moderate oven an hour,
« ‘“coven is too hot the bread will burn
“ e ‘ 0 ^ e ] ‘ bakes through. Do not knead
tho dough when you put in the tins,
81 c “t it out of the pan and make iivtc
, loaves of the size you wish. Wrap the
bread up well wlieii taken from the oven,
*° keep it from drying .—Ncio York Proa.
Window Gardening.
bulbs can be relied ou for flow-
ering. Hyacinths arc among the most
desirable for window culture. They re -
quire free, dry and somewhat rich soil,
and may be re singly in very small pots,
or in groups of three or more in pots of
proportionate size. half In planting make a
cavity in the earth the depth of the
bulb, bury lightly, then press lirmlydown
till it is nearly covered. The Dutch va-
rieties have large flowers, red, white,
blue or yellow; the single are larger and
richer than the double. The easiest
grown are the white boman. Its flowers
are single and somewhat smaller than
the Dutch; this is a profuse bloomer and
sweetly fragrant. Tulips in all single
varieties are good for house culture, and
lavishly repay the little care they do-
maud. The great variety of colors, in
make tense them brilliancy delight and all lovely shading White
a to eyes.
narcissus, bearing small cup-shapcd
clusters of flowers, deliciously fragrant,
is valuable for winter blooming, as also
are the double Homan and colored sorts.
Anemone fulgens multitude is the best anemone,
bearing a of rich Vermillion
blossoms. The foliage of all this class
is very ornamental .—Sturdy Oak.
-
How to Koast Meats,
Good beef should have a bright red
color, not too dark, dry and tender to
t ] le touch, fat and with a smooth open 1
„ r ain.
In roasting meats one of the principal
points is to have it as juicy as possible
Wash the meat iu cold water, wipe
dry, sino-e with a hot iron lli’c then place .n
a dripping pan; cover top with a
layer of suet one-half inch thick; add
drippings the to the pan until one inch
deep, pan should beat least four
inches deep- place in a hot oven and
slightly increase the heat until done;
allow thirty minutes for first pound
and fifteen minutes for each additional
pound. When done remove to a hot
plate. Add one cup of hot water to the
pan, after draining off the drippings,
i e t boil two or three minutes; then
thicken with one tablespoonful ofbut-
ter mixed with one of flour; add white
pepper and salt to taste. Mushrooms,
oysters, added chopped this pickles or any Another favor
can he to gravy.
way is to wash, place in dripping pan,
add one cup of Hot water and place at
once in a hot oven, turn often until
nicely browned on all sides; remove to
a liot platter, pour the drippings off, add
one cup of sweet milk, Jet boil one
minute, thicken with one tablespoonful
of flour aud one of butter, let boil one
or two minutes, then add salt, white
pepper aud cinnamon. It is then ready
to serve. A French way of roasting
beef is to take a sirloin roast, mix salt,
pepper, cinnanom and cloves together,
then with a narrow bladed knife make
incisions about one inch deep on all sides
of the meat; put a little of the spice in
eacii with a small slice of garlic. Boast
according to the directions given above,
—Detroit Free Press.
Itecipes.
Mutton Pie. —Cold mutton, the more
the better, thin slices of raw potatoes
enough to fid up the baking dish, onions,
salt and pepper to suit the taste; cover
with pastry and bake.
Atti.k Tapioca Pudding.— Soak ovci
night one cup of tapioca in six cups of
water. Next morning add one cup of
sugar, one egg, and beat well together.
Then pare, core and chop fine six or
more apples, and stir with the tapioca
in a pudding dish, and bake slowly.
Anise Seed Cake. —To one and a half
cups of sugar and one cup of butter
beaten to a cream, add four well-beaten
eggs, three cups of flour mixed with two
teaspoons well of pickled yeast powder, seeds. and half Adda a
cup of anise
little milk and essence. Bake in small
tins.
Creamed Potatoes, 'thin _Cut cold boiled
potatoes into cubes or siicec 1 ut
them in a shallow pan cover with milk
cook until the potatoes have ab-
sorbed nearly all the milk. To one pint
of potatoci add a tablespoon of butter,
half a saltspoon of pepper and a little
chopped parsley.
NO. 20.
THE MAIDEN.
There’s a poem In tho lily
With its lowly-bending lioad;
There’s a poem In tho sunset
With its brilliant tinge of red;
There’s a poem in the forest,
In tho lofty mountain wall;
But tho poem of the maiden
Is the sweetest of them all.
She is tall or she is slender
AVith the lily’s face of white;
Sho is lovely as tho painting
Alade by sunset's rosy light;
She is noble as the forest,
As the lofty mountain wall;
Ah, the maiden, of all nature;
I# the sw.ctest gem of all!
Let the cynic rant on fashion
And its catalogue of whims;
Let him tell of tiie flirtations
At the church between the hymns;
lost him point at coquettes’ costumes
In the operatic stall,
Yet, the maiden, notwithstanding,
Is the sweetest gem of all.
— Win. Jlosca Ballou, in •Journalist.
HUMOR OF Till) DAY.
Harmless “White Caps”—Nurses.
Regular “old timers”—Dutch clocks.
AVell watched—A jeweler’s window.
A bad scrape-— An amateur’s violin
solo.
Schnapp judgment—Deciding a bet of
the drinks.
Down in a coal mine—A young miner's
first moustache.
When the Hakes begin to dance, look
out for a snowball.
Rolling stock—Cattle on board a
steamship in a storm.
Tho iwin of terror—For a lady with
no umbrella and a new bonnet.
with A burglar who cured was him recently'prostrated elf by eking
lockjaw p
the lock.
A little girl’s view of it: “Minerva
was tiie Goddess of Wisdom ; she ne.tr
married.”
fi lie clarion notes of the rooster it
written, would, no doubt, be divided
by crow-bars .—Merchant Trace . r.
You’ll write it as sure as fate,
But don’t find fault or pine,
t scratch with care tho «s,
And make it 8.1.
—March mt Traveler,
We sometimes say “out of sight out of
mind," but we do not necessarily imply
that a blind man is insane .—New York
News.
A.—“The crop of young doctors in
New Y ork is going to be very large this
year.” B.—"Yes, but what will the
harvest be?’’— Nftings.
Nature uses a great many quills with
which to make a goose, but a man can
make a goose of himself with only one.
— Orchard and Hard.n.
“John, you are not listening to a word
I am saying!” “Why, my dear, 1 am all
ears.” “I know you are, and that makes
it all the more provoking.”
A “deaf mute” church has been dedi¬
cated in Philadelphia. A fellow could
snore all through the service aud disturb
nobody .■—Paused e Jlreczr.
A young man who becomes em¬
barrassed when ho ealls on a certain
young lady, says she gives him tho shake
every time he goes to s:e In r.
The stores are now crowded no longer,
Tho salesgirls get reit and grow stronger,
While prices of gifts have so dwindled
That some of us feel we’ve been swiud e l.
—Boston Budget.
A Chicago clergyman who married
three couples on iho cars the other day
resents the suggestion that he allow
himself to be patented as a car coupler.
— Chicago Post.
“What is your fortune, my ancient rrsil!”
1 My wealth is my fortune, sir,” rhe saiu.
“Can I marry you, my pretty maid?"
“If you are as wealthy, sir,’ she said.
New York San,
AVife—“Shull I put your diamond
Btuds in your shirt, dear?” Husband—
“What on earth are you thinking of ?
Do you want to ruin me? i hav e a meet¬
ing with my creditors this morning.”
— Jewelers’ Weekly.
Ethel ^to her betrothed)—“Do learn
to skate, George. Pin sure you would
look lovely on ice.” George (a young
md rising undertaker,—“Look lovely
on ice, would I? Thank you. No hurry
about it.”— Sijtings.
Y’outhful Innocence: “One of you
boys has been stealing raisins again; I
Imve found the seeds ou the floor.
Which one of you was it?” Tommy—
“It wasn’t me. I swallowed the seed in
mine.”— Scranton Truth.
‘ Is marriage a failure?” he asked of u maid
Who clung pretty close to his side;
“ I’m sure 1 can’t tell, sir,” the young lady
said—
“ Until you have made me your bride!”
—New York World.
Jeweler—“The inscription you wish
to have engraved on the inside of this
ring, if I understaud you, is ‘Alarcellua
to Irene.’” ) oung Man (withsome em¬
barrassment)—“les, that’s right. But
—er—don't cut the ‘Irene’ deep.”—C'Ai-
cage Tribune.
A Collin on Her Back.
A very d’gnified lady of fifty, looking
like a Duchess, strode through Union
Square, New York. “Ihat lady,” said
one who knew her,carries a coffin on her
back. She is a Berliner, and in her
youth she had two lovers, both of whom
she encouraged. Her fickleness brought
on rivalry between them, and at last one
sent a challenge to tho other. They
fought a duel, in which the younger of
them was killed, and it is the shadow of
this coffin that she carries through the
streets of New Y'ork. After a time she
married the rival who slew her lover, but
in a short time he died under dramatic
circumstances. She subsequently be¬
came the wife of yet another man, who
brought her to New Y'ork, where they
are well known to many who do not
know the record of her career.”