Newspaper Page Text
She pkfeems Counto feral
W. B. KDTCEY, Editor.
VOL. II.
Three-fifth* of the cotton crop i*
produced by white labor.
The cost of constructing the Nicaragua
Canal is placed at $64,000,000.
Six State Legislatures are considering
bills that propose “restrictions” upon
the railroadB.
American whalers captured only 168
of the big fish last year, which was a
falling off of fifty per cent.
Professor Graham Bell says that tha
congenital deaf mutes of the country ar*
increasing at a greater rate than the gen¬
eral population.
The New York Herald and other lead
ing papers of the nation strongly favoi
the project of a National Zoological Gar¬
den at Washington.
The Rev. Edward Everett Hale wants
the Government to penson all school¬
teachers who have faithfully served for
fifty consecutive years.
The forty million hogs raised in this
country are valued at $200,000,000. The
Mississippi Valley claims to have raised
three-fifths of the number.
John Bull’s navy is growing apace.
Six new monsters will shortly fly the
white ensign. Each of these vessels has
cost the British dose upon $1,600,000.
There is a Mormon settlement in Min¬
nesota which is said to be steadily grow¬
ing. They have six missionaries at work
among the Scandinavian settlers of the
State.
The punishment for a person who
pulled the nose of a King 300 years ago
■wa3 to be boiled to death in oil, but in
these days the police court judge would
probably make it thirty days.
Cremation is slowly gaining in favoi
as a means of disposing of the dead, and
its use seems eminently proper, thinks
the New York Telegram, in the case of
those dying of contagious diseases.
The Helena (Montana) Live Stock Jour
nal announces that one of the largest
sheep companies in the Territory has de¬
clared a dividend of twenty-nine per
-cent, for last year's business. They say
this year they expect to increase it.
The courts of California have decided
that a Chinaman’s queue must not be cut
off when he is sent to prison; but they
are cut off just the same, No warden
will allow that a heathen pig tail is more
sacred than American unplaited hair.
It is a mistake, the Atlanta Constitu¬
tion Informs us, to suppose the term
black man is offensive in India. The
natives of that country pity the Eng¬
lish for having while faces, and formerly
painted their criminals white as a pun¬
ishment.
The Carthusian monks, by order of
the Rope, have refused a London offer of
$15,000,000 for a monopoly of the man-
ufa ture and sale of the charttreuse
liquor. The monks for many years have
jealously guarded the secret of the man¬
ufacture of this noted liquor.
Says the Chicago Times: “The elec¬
tion of William Saunders to the London
■council by nearly the largest majority
■obtained by any candidate is noteworthy.
He advocates the doctrine that all tho
•city and imperial expenses should be met
•by a tax on land values only.”
A crying baby at New York saved the
lives of a houseful of people. The
house was on lire, and baby's eye3
smarted so from the smoke that she
raised yells which aroused the sleeping
family. This interesting incident puts
the squalling baby in a better light.
In a late case on trial in Chicago the
Judge said: “If I found a private de¬
tective following me I should do my best
to fix him so that he could never follow
any one else. There should be a law to
punish any one employing those ghouls,
who would swear a soul away for $20."
The terrors of war constantly be-
•come more terrible, observes the
Washington Star. Extralite is the latest.
It is a new explosive that is as safe as
sugar to make, as sand to carry, and
does not explode from fire in the open
air, but only by percussion in a cart-
ridge.
_____________
Bolivia and Paraguay are likely to
come to blows about a scientific fron¬
tier. Bolivia is land locked, and, as a
necessity of existence, demands a water
outlet on the Paraguay River. Paraguay
is in possession and resists such a de¬
mand. But for Brazil there would have
been war already.
JASPER, GEORGIA, THURSDAY. APRIL |, lSS!>.
BYGONES!
Ye doubts and fears that once we knew,
Ye bitter words, of anger born;
Ye thoughts unkind and deeds untrue,
Ye feelings of mistrust ami scorn;
Against your memory we rebel.
We have outlived your foolish day;
No longer in our hearts you dwell—
Bygones! Bygones! pass away!
But oh, ye joyous smiles and tears,
Endearments fond and pleasures past;
Ye hopes of life’s first budding years,
Yo loves that soomod too bright to last;
Ye charities and swords of pence,
Affection’s sunshine after rain;
Oh, never lot your blessings cease—
Bygones! Bygones! comoaguin!
—Charles Mackay.
LIBBY’S AMBITIONS.
by iiEr.EN fourest graves.
“Why, Libby, is that you? Stop a
minute; I’m going your way, and I’ll
walk home with you.” Job!" stammered the
“I’m in a hurry,
tall voung girl whom Job Lindley had
addressed.
“But I won’t detain you a second!”
catching the up the change and the general parcel
from counter of the little
shop which served for grocery, dry
goods emporium, flour-mill and postof-
flee for the dwellers in Succothville.
"I'm readv now.”
J.ibbv .Morse was a slender, bright-
eyed girl of eighteen. Job l.indleywas
the village druggist, a quick, keen-faced
young fellow, with a healthy giow on
his cheeks.
They walked briskly along over the
hard-frozen winter roads, in the gray
twilight. getting the
“Were you anything at
store?” .lob asked. “Have you any
bundles for me to carry?"
Libby laughed bitterly.
“I was asking for letters,” said she.
“There were none forme. I didn’t much
expect there would be. Luck don’t
come to me!”
“Luck?” Job looked at her in a per-
plexed way. “I hope, Libby—I do
hope you haven’t been persuaded into
buying tickets in tlie Bree/.etown Lot-
tery!"
“Nonsense .” retorted Libby.
“Ypur uncle gives don’t vou all the spend-
ing “He money you want, all he?” Libby
answered—adding, gives me I within ask for,”
herself:
‘And little enough that is!”
“You’re not discontented at living °
with him?"
“Not especially.” if »
“Because. Libby, you don’t like it
where you are_”
“Oli, Job, there comes Alice Mark-
ham!” hastily interrupted the You’ll’ girl. “I’ve
got a message for Alice. excuse
me, Job won’t you? Good-bv!”
Lindley stood puzzled, in the
middle of the road, watching Libby’s
figure vanish against the yellow bar that
still marked the spot where the sun
had gone down, half an hour ago.
understand’it! “IPs queer,” said he. “I’m hanged if
I Every time I get any-
where near that subject she slips away
from me, exactly as if she understood
what I was going 5 to say. It’s like try-
ing to catch the waters of a
brook in cue’s hand. To me there’s no
girl in all Succothville like Libby Morse,
and yet I can’t for the life of me tell
whether she cares for me or not .”
In the meanwhile Libbie hud joined
Alice Alice Markham,the .Markham, the young young district district school school
teacher, teacher, whose whose week week it it was was in in “boarding “boarding
around” to go to Mr. Morse’s.
“Ob, Alice,” said she, breathless with
the the haste haste she she had had made, made, “I’ve “I’ve had had such such
au “Child, escape!” what earth
____________________ on do you ________ mean?”
said Miss Markham, who, though she
was scarcely a mouth older than Libby
in • actual ...... time, had the ’ dignity ’■ of - at ■
least thirty summers.
Perhaps it was as much owing to the
responsibilities natural of her position it a 3 to
temperament, but still was
there—the sober, charming sedateness of
a young queen.
‘“I think, Alice," said Libby, in a
mysterious whisper, “that Job Lindley
wants to ask me to marry him. I’ve just
been walking with him.”
“Well—and if he does?"
“It’s such nonsense," said Libby,
slightly accelerating her swift, clastic
p ace .
“I don’t see that at all,” said composed
Alice. “Every girl is the better for u
good, “Fiddlesticks:” sensible husband.” cried
with Libby. “As if
a girl tied down an ambition life like me wanted
to be to in the back par¬
lor behind a druggist’s counter!”
“An ambition?” repeated Miss Mark-
ham.
'tb 1 U d'“ , f *°“ J ° u d“ icd “m
against the frozen ground. “But I have
au ambition-two or three of them!
Shall I tell you what they are, Alice?”
“If you will-o’-the-wisp, can leave off flitting nly,” along said
like a certa
Alice, twining one arm around Libby’s
slender young waist.
“Well, you see,’’explained Libby, low-
ering her voice to a confidential mystery,
although there were only the frost-
brightened stars the and the woods yellow rim of
light above communication, western to “Uncle over-
hear her
Thomas hasn’t been very successful with
his farm, of late, and as he has nine
children of his own, he naturally feels
as if I were a burden to him. And he
hints that I ought to be doing something fo"r
for myself. Now what can a girl do
herself in Succothville but go out to
service, or enter the factory, or take in
plain sewing?”
“Not much else, I must confess,” said
Miss Markham.
“Well,” pursued Libby, “I don’t fancy
any of these three roads to a livelihood,
So I’ve picked out been three studying other paths for
myself. I’ve up the
itory, papers. Alice, and I’ve written a love
in competition for the hundred-
“WE SEEK THE REWARD OF HONE8T LABOR."
dollar prizo offered by the Titusfield
Literary Clarion .”
“Child, child!” cried Alice. “What
do you know about love?”
“As much as other girls, I fancy,”
said giddy Alico. “I’ve read about
Ophelia and Dosdemona, and Lucia de
Lammermoor, and all those classic hero¬
ines, and of courso one depends a good
deal on one’s imagination. It wasn’t a
bad story, I know. Well, that’s oue
road. And 1 rend tlie statement of the
Woman’s Barter Establishment, in New
York—how they’ll pay you for good that
cake or preserves, or anything of
sort, less a trilling commission- so I sent
a box of plum jam to them, a box that
ought to net me ten dollars at least.”
“That’s Number Two,” smiled Alice.
“Excuse me for saying that I have more
faith in Number Two than in Number
One.”
“Wo shall see,” nodded Libby. “And
the third ”
“Yes,” encouraged ° Alice, “the
third—”
“I answered an advertisement for a
wife," whispered Libby, hanging down
her pretty head. “Yes, Alice, I did.
I You needn’t start back in that tragical
manner. Other girls do it. Why
shouldn’t I? Such a beautifully-worded
advertisement! A widower, all alone in
the world, siphing for sympathy Alice!” and
love—a widower of means,
“Libby, you have done wrong,” said
Alice, with a gravity that 1han impressed she would her
young companion more confess.
have been willing to
“Well, I’ve done it, and there’s au
end of the mutterl” said Libby, with a
rebellious shake of the head. “bo
no use in lecturing me. Uncle Tom
: shall find out that I’m not entirely dollars with-
out resources! A hundred for
the story (besides all the fame it will
bring me, Alice), ten dollars from the
plum jam—and there, you see, is enough
to buy quite a neat little trousseau for
marrying the widower. People don’t I
launch out with silk dresses and dozens
of underclothes as much as they did;
and—”
1 “Libby,” urged Miss Markham, “are
you really in earnest?”
Libbie broke out iulo a little hysteri-
cal laugh.
“Alice,” said she, “I’ve thought of
nothing else and dreamed of nothing
else for a week. And it’s strange—so
strange that I never have received an
answer to any of the three communica-
tions!"
Just then little Tommy, the youngest
hope of the house of Morse, came trot-
ting across the sere meadow.
“Oh, look here, Lib!" said be. “The ^
storekeeper he’s found a 16t o’ letters as
got hid away under tho meal bagi, where
I they was sortin’ the mail on Thursday.
They calculate as Pete, the puppy, done
! it—he’s chuck full of mischief and
i tricks; and the storekeeper he give me a
lemon ball if I’d take these to you. I
’ was lickin’ the inside of the molasses
keg, with Johnny Piper and Sam Stokes,
under the counter—”
Libby grasped the letters, and even
by that imperfect light, Alice could see
the snow and crimson chasing each other
across her face.
They already inside the little ,
were
I gate, panion’s and Libby with caught nervous at haste. her com- j
j “Let arm up stairs to your room,
us go
j Alice,” she whispered. “There is al-
ways such a swarm of children in the
keeping-room, and one never can have a
i moment to oneself. Besides, there is
only that lamp in the house, and I can’t
read read by by candle-l'ght.” candle-l'ght. the the ” school-teacher’s school-teacher’s
Side Side by by side, side, the in in light of the flicker-
t apartment, by lamp, Libby
1 ing, strong-scented opened opened the the kerosene letters. letters.
j and a, 'd Alice Alice |
The first, whose envelope ----- 1 bore .... the S
j ! stamp Clarion, of was brief the enough. Titusfield The Literary editor
regretted that Miss Morse s manuscript
had proved unsuited to his columns, but
would return it to her address on the re-
ceipt of sufficient postage stamps to de-
fray the cost of transportation by mail.
“There’s an end of that!’ cried
Libby, passionately, tearing tho letter
in two and flinging its fragments on the
ground. second elegantly-written .
The was an
note, on scented and monogrammed the
paper, from tho Secretary of
Woman’s Barter Establishment, stating
that Miss Morse’s kind favor per the
Rackawaxen Railroad Express, had
been sampled, and had unfortunately
proved to be below the standard which ■
the establishment had set up. The box |
awaited her orders, and Mrs. Geraldus
Geoffreys remained “hers truly,” etc.,
etc.
“It’s all nonsense!” cried
Libby. “Standard of excellence, in-
deed! It’s all favoritism. There’s a
"■** bc 0 *> ,0,oa •*"■** "» ” W!
was from a well known lawyer ill New
York, stating to Miss Elizabeth Morse
that her communication, together with
numerous others, had been found among
the effects of a notorious swindler, who
had fled from justice about a week
previously. It was returned to her.
with a well-meant warning to avoid
such traps in the future. Most of his
dupes, it was stated, had inclosed money,
rings and photographs the to exceptions. him, but she
was fortunately among she”
Boor Libby ! burst into angry
tears, with her head on Alice’s shoulder.
“Oh, Alice,” she cried, “what a fool I
have been!”
And Miss Markham was endeavoring
to console her, when Tommy came clat-
tering up stairs to shout at the keyhole
that “supper was ready, and inarm had
been frying flapjacks, and there was
real maple molasses the table, 1
some on
better than that on the inside of the keg
at Billingses’ store!”
Alice went down. Phe knew that it
would give mortal offense to Mrs. Morse’s j
housewifely pride to negle t this sum- :
moms; but Libby flung a hood over her
head, and rushcri out into the cold night
air.
“I couldn’t speak to any ono just
syjw," secret, she Alico—won’t pleaded. you?” “You’ll keep my
Just thoro at tho gate stood Job Lind¬
ley, a black shadow against the star¬
light. “Libby!”
It was all that he said, but the ono
word was so full of devotion, allegiance,
tender appreciation, that Libby stopped
involuntarily. hurt spirit
and It was a healing balm to her
wounded pride.
“I was coming to ask you to go to
Swope’s Corners with me to-night, ’’ said
lie. “There's to be a concert there, and
—But is anyth ng the matter, Libby."
be flsked, checking himself in mid-ex¬
plan a tiou.
iA es, Job, I should like to go,” said
Libby. “It’s very good of you to ask
me."
“J ut you’re in some sort of trouble,
Libby 1" exclaimed Job. “You’ve been
crying? Has your uncle been cross to
you? Because, Libby, you needn’t stay
under his roof unless you choose. If
you’ll come to me and be my wife,
Libby, there’s nothing you need ask for
in vain. It may sound abrupt to you,
this love story of mine, but it’s been
trembling on three my months.” lips every time I’ve
seen you for
It was a strange, short wooing; but
when they came into the noisy, cheerful
house-room, Libby had promised to be
hoc st Job’s wife.
Vue failure of her fantastic ambitions
had luckily driven her into the sure
havgn of a good man’s love,
“1 have got my own love story now.”
she said to Alice Markham. “Bettor
chan" all the Dcsdemonns and Ophelias
that the editor ot the 1 itusfield /.it -
entry Clarion ever dreamed about. And
Jot) is worth forty sentimental widowers,
And $s for the plum jam—we’ll let that
go! Mrs. Geraldus Geoffreys is welcome
to it for her afternoon teas!”
“And you are really happy at last?”
wistfully asked Miss Markham,
“Yes, said dear Libby. Alice, I really am happy
at last, ”
And her radiant face bore witness to
her words .—Saturday Night .
^ l* e Australian .... ™ Bush Ciyin „ , London, , .
“Coo-e-e,” the opening word of tho
lastest joint novel of Justin McCarthy
and Mrs. Campbell the Praed, Australian was blacks, one of
and thesignal cries speedily of adopted by the in-
it was
vading whites. The final “e" is a very
high note, a sort of prolonged screech, the
that resounds for miles through
bus!:,and thus enables separated persons
to a ce rtain their relative positions.
<j < v -o is a popular story in the colo-
nies that 'two weii-kuowu and wealthy
Australian squatters on a visit to tho
mother country lost themselves iu a Lon-
don fog, and were only reunited after a
series of shrill and vigorous “coo-e’s.”
Once,too, an audience in a London thea-
tre was almost startled out of its wits by
this unearthly cry. It was uttered by a
festive Australian in the upper circle,
who recognized an old colonial acquain-
tance in the pit, and wanted to attiact
his attention. He succeeded in attract-
ing the attention of the whole house,
<jn one other notable occasion was this
peculiar cry heard in London. A dar-
j n g bushranger named Henry Garrett,
who spent no less than fifty Christmas
days in jail, made his appearance one
morning in front of a bank in Ballarat
and coolly posted a notice ou the door to
the effect that the piace would be closed
f or an hour. Entering, ho terrorized
^ the officials with “■ v.i„ his revolver, and ~" A got *
dear away with $30,000.
Some time afterward tne authorities
received information that Garrett had
been seen in London. A colonial de-
----
teethe was immediately despatched possible, to
London to capture Garrett, if
an d bring him back. One day he
thought he espied his man in the Strand,
but not being quite sure he hit upon a
expedient. „ , He uttered pierc-
i bright “Coo-e-e.” The ordinary frequent- a
ng the Strand stood in fixed astonish-
ers 0 f
ment, but Garrett, acting on the spur of
the moment,and recognizing the familiar
sound, hastened to the person who ut-
tered it, and was promptly arrested. He
was brought back to Australia and sen-
teucod to ten years’ imprisonment. To-
ward the close of his life Garrett wrote
and published his autobiography, under
the title of “Recollections of Convict
X^ifc in Norfolk Island and Victoria. ’
p it u Mall Gazette.
Some Mexican Traits.
The largest and handsomest park in
Mexico is the Alameda, says Richard
Weightman, in the New York Graphic.
than half a mile long and nearlv
half a mile wide, it embraces a much
greater area than is usually devoted to
■_ in the heart of
a
ot here our to par <s arc. height L ' ' and -,P. hundreds 8, ,
enormous
of specimens o <=
^f. tteref J, out wi b laV ^ P r °, fuS J°' .
I his is the great f mid-day , res r o
da y-
Perhaps there is no mo,e character- , .
18t ! c phase of Mexican life than tie
universal interest taken in lottery gamb-
* ln & all< the solemn recognition
accorded it by the , Government. _ . There
are no law s more careful and precise and
elaborate than those relating to this sub-
W the ct transacuon lhe Y l )r< j vl rom ^ u the f , 0 ^ t mc bc ticket
a ™ P ut d ®*“
P a y in g of thc P
can be sold a sum of money sufficient tf
that drawing must ‘Sn be deposited in a
ban* or in the National Tw«ury *ub-
.!«* to the control of a Government
sixty-two per cent, of the twNinWuml whole fund to to
be derived from the sale of tickets, sup-
p(»«ngtheni all sold. Then only <-igby
finaHy, thousandt.e^ the d awing, are conduc ed by
L L circum ‘
Bt8DCe8 of ab80lute P ubhcit *’ »
$1*00 For Annum, In Advancet
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
How to Clean Silk.
For every quart of water required large to
cleanso tho silk pnro and grate one
potato in the water, which must be cold,
and let stand for two days without dis
turbing whon it. Rain obtained. water is preferred off the
it can bo Pour
clear liquor into a large vos:cl and dip
tbo silk up and down in It until it is
but thoroughly let saturated. where Do not drip. wring When it,
nearly dry it hang it it tbo can table and rub
it lay flat on side
with a linen cloth, first on one
then on tho other. If necessary to press
it place it between flannel and use a
moderate iron .—Detroit Free Press.
Rendering liard.
following A prominent directions Chicago packer rendering gives lard tho
for
so it will be nice nnd white: “Grind
the fat or chop it as you would small sausage
meat, where you have but a quau
tity, masher. using The the chopping object is bowl to get and the potato fat
into such a condition that the tissue nnd
fibriuo will separate quickly from the
clear fat. Now, by the mild heat and
constant stirring, melt to the consistency
of thin gruel, then scatter salt enough
over the surface to carry down all the
scraps. Salt dees not melt in pure lard,
and therefore will not give it a saline
taste. Then allow it to settle, and dip
the clear fat out into a vessel, using a
strainer, or into another kettle, so ns to
remove all scraps from the bottom.
After removal of scraps, cook for fifteen
minutes, so as to roast any scraps still
remaining in the fat,, and your lard is
ready to put away and will keep as long
as wanted. To keep lard it is necessary
to raise the heat at 180 degrees. It melts
at 110 to 120 degreos. Let our farmers
nnd their wives try the above method
and thoy will never go back to the old
way of cooking lard again. In answer
to an inqury as to how to prevent lard
from boiling over while cooking, put in
a littlo salt. This is tho best known
remedy .—Ntw York Herald.
Doing Up I,ace Curtain*.
Tho cleansing of line curtaius in the
winter time is a very nice operation, and
one that few housekeepers have the cour¬
age to attempt at home. The following
directions I carried out with flattering
success:
Place the curtains in a tub of cold
water and allow them to remain for al
most an hour. Remove carefully, wring¬
ing slightly, and again pluce them in
fresh cold water, where leave for threeor
four hours. Again wring them care¬
fully, and stretching them across a clean
table, rub thoroughly with some pure
washing soap; roll up tightly for full and lay hour. in
moderately warm water a hot
Then transfer them into very water,
leaving them there not longer than ten
minutes. Once more change into cold
water for a few minutes. The next
move is into a moderately strong blue
water, where let them remain about five
minutes. Boil one-half quality; pound of this starch will
quite thick, fine flour
bo sufficient for three good-sized cur¬
tains, Dip tho curtains into the starch
and wring them immediately very slightly. Then clean
stretch them over
sheets. Lay the sheets over a thickly- and
carpeted floor of a large room pin
down the edges of the lace, drawing it
firmly, with extrome care. The pins
should be the placed close together, so us to
draw out pattern. This may seem a
tedious process; but if the directions arc
faithfully carried out one will be amply
rewarded left/stretched for the pains. The curtains
should be across the sheets
until thoroughly dry, and lifted when the pins
are removed nnd they are up, they
will be found' to be snowy white and
stiff.— Washington Star.
Recipes.
Sugar Snaps.—O ne cupof butter, flour, two
cups of sugar, four cups of one
egg, a teaspoonful and a half of baking
powder mixed with the flour. Roll very
thin.
Stewed Potatoes.— Cut in slices
twelve oold boiled potatoes; add a pint
of milk, a tablespoonful of butter, pep-
por and suit, and a tablespoonful minutes. of
mincod parsley; stew ten ,
Fried Appi.es. —Make abatterof two
eggs, a pinch of salt, a cup of milk and
six tablespoonfuls of flour. Slice, pare
and core tart apples as Saratoga and fry. potatoes. Eat
Dip them in the batter
with powdered sugar.
Corn Souffle. —Two cups of canned
corn, one pint of milk, two eggs, salt to
taste. Reat the eggs until very light;
add tho other ingredients; put the mix¬
ture in a buttered minutes. pudding dish, and
bake about forty
Mutton Broth. —This is often or¬
dered for invalids. It should be made
as plainly as possible, and so as to se¬
cure the juice of the meat. Boil slowly
about two pounds of lean mutton for
two hours; skin it very carefully, as it
simmers, and do not put in much salt.
Some vegetable may be added as a
seasoning, and for some broths a little
barley or rice.
Hominy Croquettes. —Two cups of
cold boiled hominy, one egg beaten
light, pinch of salt, teaspoonful into of
sugar, a little milk. Beat the egg
the hominy, mash it free from lumps.
Add milk cautiously until the hominy is
as soft as it can be handled. Stir in the
salt and sugar, and form the mixture
into croquettes with floured hands. Set
aside for an hour in a cool place to be¬
come firm. Fry in deep fat to a good
brown.
Fi.our Soup. —One tablespoon flour, beef
fat, ono heaping tablespoon pints pint two
sliced onions, two water, one
milk, one mashed potato, salt and pep¬
per. Fry the onions in the fat till light
brown; remove, pressing out the fat.
In the same fat now cook the flour, and
add, a little at a time, the water. Put
back the onions and let it stand a while,
then add milk and potato. Salt well.
The potato may be omitted and a little
more flour added.
NO. 24.
■WAITIN' FEB THE CAT TO PI&
Lawzy! don’t I rickollect
That 'ere old swing in the lnnel
Right and proper, I expect,
Old times can’t come back again;
Rut I want to state, of they
Could come back, and I could say
What iny pick ud be, ’y jingl
I'd say, Gimme the old swing
’Nunder tho old locus trees
On tho old place, of you please,
Danglin’ there with balf-shet eyo,
Waitin’ for the cat to diet
I’d say, Gimme tho old gang
Of barefooted, hungry, lean,
Or’n’ry boys you want to hang
When you’regroweduptwicetasmean!
Tho old gyarden patch, the old
Truants, and tho stuff we stoled 1
The old stompin’ groun’ where we
Wore tho grass off, wild and free
As tho swoop of tbo old swing.
Where we uset to climb and cling,
And twist roun’, and fight, and lie—
Waitin’ fer tho cat to die!
’Pears like I ’most alius could
Swing the highest of tho crowd—
Jos sail up their tel I stood
Downside up, and screech out loud,
Ketch my breath, and jes drap back
Fer to let tho old swing slack,
Yit my tow-head dippin’ still
In the green boughs, and the chill
Up my backbone taperin’ down.
With my shadder on the groun’
Blow and slower trailin’ by—
Waitin' for tho cat to die!
Now my daughter’s little Jane’s
Got a kind o’ baby swing
On the porch, so’s when it rains
She kin play there—little thing!
And I’d limped out t’other day,
With my old choer this-a-way,
Swingin’ her and rockin’ too,
Thinkin’ how I uset to do
At her age, when suddenly,
“Hey, gran’pap,” she says to mo,
“Why you rock so slow?” Says I,
“Waitin’ fer tho cat to die!”
—James Whitcomb Itiley, in Harper.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
Plucky men—Poulterers.
Aids to reflection—Mirrors.
Fashion’s surplus—The bustle.
A designing man—The architect.
Epitaph for a boatman—Life is oar.
Steak-holders—Restaurant waiters.
Time out of mind—A forgotten date.
A “cow-catcher"—Pleuro-pncumonia.
Room for argument—’Iho court-room.
A hand-to-hand affair—Courting in
the dark.
The oldest verse in existence—Tho
universe.
Beef was high when the cow jumped
over tho moon.
A hotel advertises among its attrac¬
tions a “parlor for ladies thirty-live feet
wide .”—Detroit Free Dress.
“Where would you advise me to go
to, doctor? I suffer so from insomnia.”
“You’d better goto sleep.”
No man is big enough to safely igi noro
the influence that put him where n e is.
Unless he happens to be in jail.
You cannot expect a man to tell
which way the wind is, simply because
be is a little vain .—Boston Bulletin.
The butcher who had his whole stock
attached complained that there was too
much lien on his meat. —Hotel Mail.
Mrs. Westward, of Chicago, said her
husband tried almost everything; but
never made money until he tried lard.
The ho photographer afraid is about tell the lady only
man w is not to a to
shut her mouth and try to look pleasant.
Tho burning of tho malt-house the
other day went against the grain and
caused considerable ferment .—Netc York
News.
There is somelhing paradoxical
about counterfeiting. It is a money¬
making business which does not pay.—
New York News.
“Mary, how is it that the chairs aro
all covered with dust?” “Why, ma’am,
no one has been sitting on them so far
to-day .”—Good Housekeeping.
“Heard my last joke? It is great—
positively Shakespearian.” “Yes, than I
heard it. I thought it was earlier
Shakespeare, though.”— Bazar.
It must seem strange, whene'er it snows,
To tho man who motion lacks;
It matters not how sRw he goes,
Ho cannot help make tracks.
— Judge.
“The wealth of tho Vandorbilt family
is now computed at $274,000,000.”
There is one family that will be able to
buy ice this summer .—Richmond Des¬
patch.
Clara—“Jak, can you “understand¬ return my
love?” Jack (who hus an
ing” with Clara’s sister)—“Clara, I can¬
not, but I will always be a brother-in-
law to you.”
He said in derision, “Oh, give us a rest"
To the copper whose eye he had caught.
The policeman with promptness did grant
the request,
And gave him arrest on the spot
—Merchant Traveler.
“Oh, postman, to-morrow morning I
have husband. something very Couldn’t important be to say just to
my you a
little slow, so as not to deliver his news¬
papers till noon ?”—Fliegende Blaetter.
Tbe infinite variety
OI winter weather
Breeds And discontent, satiety,
ague altogether;
And Discourages strict sobriety,
also propriety
In polish on shoe leather.
—Chicago News.
The craze for whistling among girls is
seriously troubling the humorous editor
of the Boston Transcript. He says it is
almost impossible to tell whether a girl
is soliciting a kiss, or is only preparing
to pucker. He ought doubt— to give Youngstown tne girl
the benefit of the
Herald. —