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>Jlic ilUnihjomcqt Monitor.
D .C. SUTTON, Editor and Propr.
WHFX JAMS Ul.KFl> riu: cows.
Tim daisy held her dainty cnp
To call'll the ihwiUops l.right;
Tlie l ie had kissi d the eluver hobs,
And.bade them f 11 pood niyht;
The katydid had tuned her rang
Among the apple houpha,
And farther t etched the shadows long,
When Janie ntilkcd the mas.
The swallows flitted here and there,
The hat had left lbs l.owi r,
• The primrose, with a bashful air,
Unclosed her [scaled flower;
The whippoorwill his plaintive talo
Declaimed ’nenth wooded boughs.
And twilight dropped lie:-dusky veil,
While Janie milked the cows.
And l!on. the plow-hoy. strolling by,
Come through the open ha s,
While softly in the Western sky
Shine (,ut the tranquil stars.
And while the e 111-blades whisper low
Tw o lovers pledge their vows.
Amid tin twilight s purple glow,
While Janie milked the cows.
A little eottage snug and new,
With hop vines at the door;
The gunlicains. peeping softly through,
Lie dancing on the floor.
And when the first pale evening stars
Shine through the forest boughs,
Toting farmer Ben, behind the bars,
Helps Janie milk the cows.
—Hood Housekeeping.
“MISS BETTY.”
BY MARX E. VANDYKE.
Os course I can’t expect you to love
Miss Betty as I did— beautiful little
woman with Iter soft blue eves, silver
hair, and a smile as cairn and sweet as
ever graced the lips of a “maiden lady”
who was stir enough advanced in life to
have left the tumult and restlessness of
youth far behind her. After the 'ton
fusion and bustle that always reigned in
our household, with papa forever busy,
the hoys coming and going, and we
girls, occupied lirst with school books,
then with millinery, and all the inter
ests that keep a family of young people
constantly in a state of excitement and
commotion, a v isit to Miss Betty in her
quiet home seemed like an entrance in
to some cool retreat, whore peace and
calm and comfort always dwell.
Only two things hail ever really hap
pened to Miss Betty, and it was not
until the morning of her fortieth birth
day that the second thing happened.
Had not this great event occurred I
should have had no story to tell—Miss
Betty would have been an example of
those lives, or is it nations ? which peo
ple say are happy in that they have no
history. But in this ease the saying
would have been untrue. Out of that
second occurence in her monotonous life,
out of the tumult and trepidation ush
ered in with that fortieth birthday has
grown, well, a love story, wlrch 1 am
determined to spoil by not telling it
properly.
Miss Betty had, of conrse, been born
like other people; she had struggled
through the measles and rauinp-s, and,
like so many bright, lank, and scraggy
daughters of our land, at the age of
nineteen she had developed into a very
pretty young girl.
It was at this stage of her experience
that the lirst thing happened. Natur
ally, the event took the chape of a lover.
John Mclntosh, a manly, well-bred
youth of twenty-three, the son of a
neighboring farmer, had east sheep-eves
at Miss Betty during a lively evening
at singing school. Miss Betty cast
down her eyes and blushed furiously.
But all the same she liked to have John
look at her in that way, and John found
it out. The result was that the two
young people fell in love with each oth
er.
Then came the squire to the front.
The squire was Miss Betty’s father.
Just wlmt had gained him his title it
would be difficult to say. lie owned a
few more acres than anybody else with
in the township, and had once come
very near being made Justice of the
Peace. The distinction really fell to a
retired physician living in the village,
Out the title that lmd grown out of the
prospective dignity clung to Squire
Perkins. He himself valued it as a
duke does his strawberry leaves.
When the Squire learned that John
Mclntosh had actually had the audacity
to fancy that he might he allowed to
marry Miss Betlv, his wrath was lieyond
control. Jle stormed and he pounded,
he stamped and lie roared. There
threatened to repeat it if in the old
mansion the scene Hint k id taken place
in Miss Hetty's teething days, when the
Squire’s only soi: George had asked per
mission to marry a dainty little bluo
eyed girl, tin? (laugh t«-i of a seamstress.
George had stood It is ground, pocketed
his father’s curse, and gone proudly
forth, never to return. Miss Betty was
made of different n . ■ .»!. Site wept,
BCCCpte 1 the in.;', k bh , and sent two
dried roarbudswud tlittle ill-writ
ten notes back to John Mclntosh in :»
sandalwood box. He pit tie* box in
hie pocki t, went tM apart,
and shipped l't.r—oto -'b I hen peace
returned to th-squire's mansion, and
Betty settle,! calmly into the
business of !k-comiitg an old maid.
, The years came nud the years went.
Her features gr<-« slim- >«■••. and her hair
thinner; tin 1 > was • suspicion of
rheumatism swelling 1 . finger joints.
Bettv grew old; no 1 ii " Br-•-ported, and
she had begun to fancy that nothing
ever would.
There \v& . slight b-eirk in her life
one day, wi>< ; ;• 1 • <-f neighbors
came in u, ni,<i Hts’ofd squire to
the churchy ,1, . , .... 1 1 by the
aide of his w if*-, • d ont
of existence P i • Hetty’s
birth. In n or h> • ' makes a
great ovr/ann n. • : e the
current of hie • - ..nc.-ly disturbed.
The old Squire hail been practically
dead a good many years before they
aid him in the grave. His iron frame
had outlived his mind. Paralytic and
helpless, Betty and her maid of-all
' work waited on him like a child. He
had fallen out of his place in life; so
when his helpless body finally _ disap
peared nobody missed him much. Bet
ty had less work to do, and so had Ma
ria; but otherwise her life (lowed peace
fully on. She only become a littlo
thinner, her* scant locks a little more
sparse, an 1 the rheumatism in her joints
u little more indisputable.
Now the second event had arrived.
Belly gasped and trembled. After all
1 these years of absolute peace and quiet,
to have an occurrence like H i come to
overturn til 1 'nblishe.t things! She
wrung her bands mil wept. Then slto
sent for lier f til ititil friend and hench
man, Marin, and handed her a letter she
had jest received.
“Bead it, Maria, read it!"
“Mai a, w ho, like most New England
servants, was ns well-born and nccom
plished as her mistress, took the docu
ment, and road:
“J/ii* Elisabeth l'crkins: •
“Dear Madam. — 1 write to toll you
that vour lu' l “lor George died here at
seven o’clock yesterday evening, leaving
a young daughter, seventeen years of
age. Miss Perkins is, [ fear, almost
without means. It was her father's wish
that she should go to you. Bhe will
leave here, therefore, after the funeral,
and arrive in America in two weeks’
time. The young lady is overwhelmed
with grief, and I write in her stead.
Most sincerely vonrs,
“Martha Robinson.
“Pension Ahertt, Siena, Italy.”
The letter was dated March 15. It
was now the Ist of April. May Per
kins would be here, then, in a few days.
“If anything bad ever happened to
; me before.” sighed Miss Bettie. “ J
anything had ever happened before 1”
Then she turned to Maria.
“What shall we do, Maria, what shall
wo do ?"
Maria must have been some relation
to Mr. Dick, for she immediately re
j plied:
j “Clean house.”
This practical turn certainly gave
great relief to Miss Betty’s mind. It
was something to do, and action would,
! hotter than anything else, relieve the
tension of her nerves.
Within twenty'four hours the house
was overturned —that is, not the build
ing itself, but its contents. Curtains
came down, carpets sprang up, chairs lo-
I cated themselves on tables, women arm
ed with pails appeared, men with white
wash brushes followed. Missßetty di
i rented, and Maria acted as aide-de-camp.
Confusion reigned everywhere. Prom
, peace and order there was a relapse
; back into original chaos.
It was when things worn at their
worst that Mbs Betty stood gazing out
of an upper window. Her glance fell
on the 1* ill-dam just above the house.
“How set father always was!” she
I mused to herself.
“How lie always said there wasn’t any
danger from that dam ! Everybody
told him it would give way, and wash
us ont some day, but he wouldn’t pay
I any attention. It’s lucky he isn’t here
now,” her mind passing on to more im
portant matters. “What would he do
with a strange young girl in the house?
He never could get along with young
people, anyway,” Miss Betty sighed.
How could she get along f
The household had not more than
settled back into its normal condition,
when, one day', the village carry-all
drove up, and out of it stepped a bloom
ing damsel of seventeen. She was fol
lowed by a middle-aged man, and by
seven trunks. Miss Perkins might be
penniless, but she had a wardrobe.
“Oil! Aunt Betty, how do you do ?”
It was pleasant to feel that blooming
cheek pressed to hers, and to know that
this new-comer was her own kith and
kin.
Miss May Perkins turned to the gen
tleman at her side.
“Auqt Betty, this is Mr. Mclntosh.”
Poor'Miss Betty! Had not enough
happened without this ? In a moment
she recognized the lover of her youth.
Os course she did. What woman would
not ? But it was hard to have him
i come in the way—to come in the train
of this blooming damsel, with her
bi'ight youth to act as a contrast to her
an tit’s faded features and tremulous
middle age.
There is no use in discussing the mat
ter. Women will cling to the romance
'of their lives. Is there a failed spinster
anywhere who does not fondly recollect
some hour when the world seemed a
glorious place and the future filled with
bliss, simply because some specimen of
the other sex has looked fondly into Iter
eyes? If so, Miss Betty was not the
one.
I am not going to betray the number
of hours that Miss lb-tty had spent
dreaming over the possible return of
John Mclntosh. He might come in this
way, he might come in that. He might
bo old and gray, and feeble and infirm,
in which case she would we him just, as
he was in youth, and in old age they
would renew tho roman-e of their early
days, lie might come with a wife and
family of children; in which case she
would lie the particular friend of the
woman who had supplanted her, and
maiden aunt to all the little folk. But
she had not planned to have him <-oine
in the train of her own niece, and that
niece a handsome young woman, with
cheeks like peaches, a foreign education,
and gown copied from those tli.U En
glish tourists procure in Paris. Oh, no,
no ! Ten thousand times no !
But Miss Betty was a genuine New
England woman in the control she ex
erci-od ovc-r her own feelings. It was a
warm welcome she gave the travelers,
and neither of them noticed that her
hands w ere cold, arid her voice trembled
tl:e least bit when site drew them into
tic house and made them welcome to all
it contained.
MT. VEIiNON. MONTGOMERY CO.. GA.. WEDN'ESI) \Y. SEPTEMBER 28, 1887.
Oh, how much there was to tel!! Aunt
and niece hud to become acquainted.
John Mclntosh had to relate the history
of his sea-going years, and tho later
ones, when, after having secured a com
petence, lie determined to explore tho
land as well ns the sea, and, attracted
by the name of Perkins, hod made the
acquaintance of May and her father.
When lie learned that tho latter was
1 ora his own native town, and wns in
deed the playmate of his childhood,
nothing was wanting to open the way
to a warpi intimacy. But then had come
the illness anti death of George Perkins,
and now John Mclntosh had brought
his friend’s daughter Urnne.
Was there, or was there not, a love
nll’iiir going on between John Mclntosh
and May Perkins? This was the ques
tion that agitated Miss Betty day and
night.
The young girl was all that was frank
and sweet, and devoted to her aunt.
She indulged in no foreign airs, she
spoke no strange tongues, her manners
with Hr. Mclntosh were free and cordial
rs with her father’s friend.
Miss Betty thought the matter over
morning and night, but could come to
no conclusion. But then, why should
Poor Miss Betty ! Sometimes she ex
cused herself from joining in the excur
sions the other two took such delight
in, sometimes site went with them. But,
oh! it was very hard! John was so
strong and tall, and, in her eyes, so
handsome. May was so young, and
fresh, and beautiful. They were a lino
| couple to look at, lmt for all that Miss
Betty did not like to look at them.
Summer drifted into autumn nml au
tumn into winter. Nobody minded,
lie not love her ? Was she not young
and beautiful? Miss Betty looked at
her own hollow cheeks and sunken tem
ples, counted the few straggling ringlets
that framed her care-worn face, and de
cided that of course lie must ho in love
with May.
Why is it that women are always sure
that physical beauty exercises supremo
influence over man ? They see enough
to teach them otherwise, but they refuse
to be taught.
The summer passed along, and what
a glorious summer it was ! The roses
i bloomed, the harvest ripened, the tas
seled grew straight and tall. John Mc-
Intosh called nearly every day. At one
time lie brought a hook, at another lie
proposed a walk, tit a third he invited
the ladies for a drive behind tho.high
stopping pair of grays lm had purchased.
Winter has its pleasures as well as sum
mer. May had become t lie favorite of
the village, and Miss Betty enjoyed her
popularity. Sleigh rales were plentiful;
there was a singing school that teniind
ed Miss Betty of her youth, anil soci
ables and candy pulls. During the
1 evenings May spoilt at home Hie wood
lire blazed, the ladies sewed, John Mc-
Intosh called, and when conversation
1 flagged, amused himself with a hook.
Presently signs of spring began to
appear. The air grew warmer, the
snow began to melt on all sides, the
trees began to laid.
11 was one day in April when John
Mclntosh, gazing out of the parlor win
dow, inquired sudden!/,
“Miss Perkins, if that cam secure?”
“Father always said so,” answered
Miss Betty.
“Yes, I remember. He said e.(twenty
!■ ears ago. Nothing would make him
ittnige liis opinion. Why did lie build
his house so thr.t in ease it did give
i ,av you'd be sure to ho drowned out ?
i believe a good freshet would curry
,cry stick and stone away.”
*• |'{ut we never have freshets, in this
i it tie river.”
“We might have one, though, this
ason. They say the accumulations of
. . up to the northward are fearful.
Ti.osc soft skies have come too suddenly.
They are what the funnel's call ‘a
father breeder ‘ Let the ice get pret
ty well molted, and give us a good ram
storm to send it down, thoro’d he trou
ble, sure.”
Miss Betty did not believe in the
freshet.. Her mind was occupied with
other matters. John and May were cer
tainly coining to an understanding. The
■ other day she, Betty, had been alone in
the room with him, and he hail been
tulkingiilinut May. Suddenly Miss Bi tty
had fancied he was going to say some
thing about marrying tier. It was too
: mucin Miss Betty made some trilling
excuse and fled. Then she sent May
into the room. Os late she had taken to
leaving them alone together, if if was
to lie, it must lie, but John should not
consult her first. If he had no mem
ory. she had. Let him speak to May.
“There certainly is .something queer
about the river,” urged John the next
evening as lie took his departure.
“It's six incites higher than usual, and
look at the mud. I don’t believe in that
dam either.”
“The .Tam will last fill morning, won’t
it ?” asked May, mischievously.
“I don’t know whether it will or not.
It might not if we had a heavy storm.
It looks like one, too. Does anybody
remain av.uke .ft this hoa e all night?”
“Not usually.”
“Let some one do it to-night thou,
and to-morrow we’ll have things seen
to.
Rut even this warning went unheed
ed, .May was not timi I. Mi s Belly,
though naturally so, lielioved in the
da a. When lw. 'time came she read her
us ml ehiqfler in the Bible, said her
prayers, ti -I th*- strings of her night
cap into at: irreproachable boa arid went
to lied to sl' -gj the sleep of the just.
At what time could it. have been that
she was awakened to rudely; Wax it
lairing ? Yes, surely. There was the
di *im t sound of rain drot » on the roof.
But the rushing sound that, came from
so far ofl’- what ".as that; Miss Betty
went to the window and looked out.
T!i< re •••as Hone thing strange in the
laudsc*!*' -what w it ?
What Miss JUty saw might well
seel .: e mg.', ft;--'.cad of her familiar
> gard the pi -k't fence nml the grassy
fsv u beyond, there in thou place was ...
watery v.aste. All manner of small
“SUB DEO FACIC FORTITER.”
things were floating about flower pots,
sticks, Miss Betty’s garden hut, inadver
tently left on the porch. All small
things that could float were having a re
gatta.
Hark? wlmt wns that? A repetition
of the sound that awoke her some min
utes ago a bursting, crashing sound a
rushing sound, a sound of huge timbers
tearing themselves from their liudcn
ings, a swelling, dashing, rearing
sound!
“Help!” shrieked Miss Betty, “help!”
In a moment she had seen what the
matter was. The dam had given way,
tho wnters were rising. Presently they
would overwhelm the house.
Miss Betty ditl not wait to see if her
appeal was heard. Who was there could
hear it t There was no one near but
Mnv and Maria. Opening her door with
trembling lingers she sped into the pas
sage. There site met two flying figures,
white robed like herself.
“To the roof! »to tho roof,” site
screamed, and seizing the nearest gar
ments they could find, to the roof tho
three terrified women lied.
Fortunately for id 1, the old house was
not very lirinly set upon its foundations,
or else old age and decay had loosened
it. At any rate it floated, and as tho
waters rose it rose with them.
But what a predicament. Three hulf
olad shivering women perched on top of
a floating house, in the middle of a wild
April night the wind roaring, tho rain
falling, all wild fury of the elements let
loose.
“We shall die, Aunt Betty, wo shall
die,” moaned May.
“Courage, May!” came from Miss
Betty’s wliito lips. But in reality slid
\to» suffering more than either of tho
other two. May was young nnd healthy,
and exposure did not affect tho good
Marin’s coarser frame. Miss Betty was
not. young; she was not well. (Suspense
and unhappiness lmd made her even
feebler and frailer of Into than usual.
Oh I how wearily tho hours passed.
The old house shook and trembled as it
was tossed here and there by the turbu
lent voders. Great logs from the dam
struck it and it quivered at each blow.
It must have been fully an hour lie
fore tlie wretched women, clinging to
each gtlier in their misery, heard the
sound of voices and the grinding of a
boat as it came alongside tlie spot,
where they were huddled.
“Betty, Betty !” a voice called above
the storm.
In spite of cold and darkness a vivid
blush overspread Miss Betty’s pale
cheeks. Why had lie called her Betty?
“Where are you ? Win re s May
“Oh?”
“railur succeeded the rose, as Miss
Betty answered;
“Here, John, here.” ('niching his
arm as he sprang to t lie root, she pushed
May toward him.
“Here she is, John ! Take her; sure
her ! Never mind us !”
"What!” lie was so near that Miss
Betty fancied she saw the angry gleam
ui his eyes.
John might he slow, and he might bn
stupid; but. he could act quickly when
lie wanted to.
- With a decided movement of his right
arm he pushed May aside, and Betty
felt herself in his clasp. A heavy over
coat was wrapped round tier slinking
form, and she was quickly passed to
other hands, who placed lur ill the bot
tom of tlie boat, 'lb her amazement
John Melntosli followed.
“But May, John ! May and Marin !”
she shrieked, rising to lut t> et.
“They’re all right. This boat issumll.
The others will take them off. I're got
youj"
That last, sentence! Wlmt did it
mean i
Why, it meant, that things had really
got the habit of happening *0 Miss Bet
ty,
They happened and they happened.
Miss Betty pie-led the rest of tho night
of tho great storm at Squire Appleby s,
where she was dr x d in a wholesuit of
Mrs. Appleby's. Everybody said tho
experiences of those dreadful hours had
riot hurt lu r one hit that not in years
had she loolw I so we!! and so young.
Some weeks later Miss Betty worn
another unaccustomed dress. 'I his tin
it whs a wedding dress. Then a new
house was built, and she became its mis
tress. One thing happened and another
thii'g happened, until she declared that
she, lived in a w hirl.
Among tlie many things was May’s
engagement to a young Frenchman, who
followed her over the m us.
It was on Hu! evening of May’s wed
ding; that Mrs. Mclntosh said to her
husband:
“John, why didn’t von marry May ;”
“I did come near it, when you forced
her cn me so. ”
“But I thought you wanted her.”
“That chit of a girl!”
Mr. Mclntosh's expression was eon
•ceniptuous in the extreme. All his wife
n pin l wns;
“Oh I”
An I T** 'nenieiit to ( rime.
Baron Alderson once used language,
which might fairly haw bc< 11 deserihe.il
as incitement to crime. He was try
ing a civil action, in Which the plaintiff
elao .id dan ig<"- ngaim-t the defendant
tor hating fractured his skull and brok
en some til'll a dozen ribs. There was
practically jio defense, the ease for the
plaintiff being uminswi rutile, and the
pirv returned a verdii t. for him, with
damages, £l. Bal’d Baron Alder;-,on;
“We won’t try any more < ,us with this
jury, call mioth t.’’ vie! a they were
r • riug: he reuni : !, “Go home, g.-u
tie-men, and, as you value your lends
a iut limbs at £l, I hope von may find
some litiernl purlins' rs 011 your jour
nev. " —AU l/i * Year li'i'infl.
John I>k .Ml «, of a!!<•:. . y
ela.ee! b bo the o.d : ' 1. • . "l o>. an
in •'! (' [ i.'io- 1 ;-'i 1 '' , ' - ,
< No. 2, of < ad. 0., i»
He is U'tv: tigh; •-> 1 ji ,ig-.
I'll It JOk Kit'S IHJJXiET.
Bi'MOKOI’S NOTES FOUND IN
Ot'lt EXCHANGES.
Ii Fly Tim** Four.Year-Old .Jnlinny
lie was an ( in pi re AI the Gate
Force of llahit - Odds and
Ends, &e., N o.
THE WRONG WAV.
“It's n shame," said a pallid face vet
nnu of the lute war, to a brother mem
ber of the < irand Army the other day,
“ hat while some men are drawing a
rinfortahlo pension rav claim has been
il sallowed.” “Wlmt disability did you
mention as a reason for Government
is msiderat ion ?” “A heart trouble
brought on by the exertion of a long and
iLsporate clnirge." “Did youfile a doc
tor's certificate proving your injury?”
• I did.” “Well, wlmt reason was given
for failing to allow vour claim ?” “Oh,
thev said they lmd evidence that, tho
1 verexertion was brought about by un
due haste in getting to the rear.” “Ah!
i fee. You should lmvo run iu tho op
posite direction,” returned his compan
ion. — Vos! on i! ml get.
MCCn IN A NAME.
Little Dot—Can’t I have some more
puke. Is only had free pieces.
Omaha Mamma -Three pieces! Gra
cious, no.
“But that cuke won’t hurt me. You
said it was angel cake. Angels eat it,
don’t, they ?’’
“No, dear, it is not called angel cake
because angels eat it.”
“Then why?"
- “Because little girls who eat toomuoh
cf it become angels."— Omaha World.
AN UNFORTUNATE COINCIDENCE.
Bhimentlml -Did you hear vat pad
luck ! 11is! 1 happened to Levi Cohen ?
I! iseubui'g 1 have nodding heard.
lihiiiieiithnl Levi had almost com
pleted all hisli arrangemeiits to fail in
pishnei s ".t ten cents on ter tollin', ven a
rinli onolo died ill Sliei many and left
him tervciity toiisniid toilers in his vill.
Vat you eali dot for pad luck, eh ?
“Es 1 had an onelo like dat l vould
disown him. Vy couldn’t he vnit a
Icedlc vile ;” — Te.rua S,flings.
HTiirin.
Gum Buohh' i ly, a Now York dude, sur
prised Mrs. Bondclippor while she was
painting il picture. “Aw, Mrs. Bond
olipper, I had no idea you were an art
ist,” said Knobborly. “1 suppose you
thought t was stupider than 1 really
; am," replied Mrs. Bondclippor, in a
bantering mood. “Oh, no, I nevali lor
a /moment thought you were stupider
than you weally are. On the contrary^
I thupposi'd you were not so stupid ath
you weally are."- Terras Siftings.
not this summer.
“Tell me,” lie whispered with the
hoarseness of emotion, whispered as if
he feared the iiiurmiii'ing surf might
catch tho question and hear it to some
other eras '‘Yell me, have you ever
loved ;” She 1 1('milled. She hesitated
fur a moment, and lie thought lie felt
lu r blushes glow into his eyes. She
I renddeil, and in a still, soft whisper,
gentle us the summer breeze, answered:
“Not this summer. " —San Francisco
, Chronicle.
THE OATfc.
Landlord How many in your family?
House Hunter My wile, daughter
and myself.
Landlord How old is the daughter?
I am not asking for idle curiosity.
House Hunter She is Seventeen.
Landlord Seventeen, eh ? Well, you
ea n have the house at id ! will keep it in
repair. But mind this: You look out
for the gate hinges yourself.— Omaha
JI rail.
IN l'l/Y TIME.
la the mrrnini: l iiglit nnd early,
Via n a man to lx mighty ain'ly,
( null'll till- Itv,
Pretty lly!
Alai it wiiDx him from Imh ulei ping
\i 1 1 ! 1 i':- ililio ■' ill Im-pi ejiiiig,
V\ .111 it h buzzing nml im ni|>|iing,
With its liitina nml il > skipping,
Pri-veiiln liix iiinrniiig napping,
Wears him out with ceustnit shipping,
I (lie( tin; ll.v !
licit tim fly! lialJini/in lh rail
A I OhT.'VKAIt 01,0.
When I year old Johnny Perry said
I his prayer, one night and had asked
God to bless papa and mamma and to
| bless Johnny an 1 make him .1 good boy
] he surprised his mamma by saying :
“And please, God, bless Mr. Perry and
make him agood man." “What do you
mean by that;” his mamma asked.
“Why,” said Johnny, “you don’t s’poso
I want to boa little boy all my life, do
you ?"— Jlminuir/. (Me.) Telegraph.
SOME OTHER DISEASE.
“They say he died of a broken heart,”
paid the ft rat woman as they came up
the ear steps.
“J don't believe it,” sharply replied
No.
“But why ?”
“Why ; Been use she liad as many ns
(i. in I 'On 11* t- a y ear, and not one of
them 1 •<:-1 It is than sls.” — Detroit Free
Cress.
HE WAS.
“I don't believe in bullying,” said
Po ipano, ste: lily, “but J do thinks
mini ought to he roaster of his own
lioure, M.v wif‘ .of course, doesn't agree
v.i 1] 1 me, but this summer I earned my
point.” “Ah, indeed,” said Bagley, in
inß'iustcd tones. “Haye you the recipe
with you?” “Yes. I sent her to tiio
m u' here for the summer.” — I‘hiltdclpHwt
, Cotl.
nr.HL'KED.
Gun DeSrnith recently railed at the
resideiaa of the Widow Flapjack. Iho
widow mid her dnnglih r, Lilly Flap
jack, received (ins in the parlor.
DeSmiOi, d m't you think f re
st mi !r my mot her : ’
“Lilly, h.ud .Mrs. Flapjack, sharply,
VOL. 11. NO. 30.
“don't display your vanity and egotism
no much."— Texa» Sifting*.
RATHER TAI.Ii.
A Chicago ninn who had Iwn m»r
--l icit ‘l'l years described liis wife to the
notice us “a rather tall woman, with a
Homan nose and a big month.” When
she was found she proved to lie n little
woman with a Grecian nose and a very
i small month. He probably hadn’t looked
at her since the close of tlie honeymoon.
—Jh troit Free l'rrs*.
HE WAS AN UMPIRE.
“flood bye, my dear,” said a wife
anxiously, ns her husband turned to go,
| “I shan't have a moment’s peace until
von return. Oh, John, when will you
have saved enough to give up a life so
beset with peril and danger.”
“Heforo long, dear, 1 hope. But J
must go. 1 want to call tho game
promptly at 1 o’cloi:' r .”
FAVORITES,
A clergyman calling on a Washington
street family was ushered into the par
lor, where Miss Hetty was seated at the
i pianoforte. He asked tho young Indy,
a member of his Kihle class, to “piny
| one of her favorites.” “I'm not playing
favorites any more," she said. “I’ll
take tho held against them every time.”
— Sarntoyitin.
THE HOUSE.
A child was recently watching a young
Indy in Holliston busily talking into a
telephone transmitter. Suddenly the
child said, “Who are you talking to?”
the lady answered, “I’m talking to a
man.” The child replied, “Well, he
must be an awful little man to live in
Slleli as small house ;n that.” — Botlon
Globe.
TOO MUCH COMPETITION.
“Terrible storm Had, last evening,
George." “Didn’t hear it, old man.”
“Didn't hear it? Man alive, it thun
dered fit to wake Hie dead I” “Ha, I
thought I saw lightning, but I didn’t
hear any thunder. An old schoolmate
of my wife is visiting her and they
haven’t seen each other for ten years."
HIS STORY,
I.iltle‘2-yenr old Hohert at the break
fas! lalde the other day heard his father
and mother exchange the compliment*
of the morning with their gueste until
lie could stand it no longer, and inter
rupted them with : “Papa, let mo tell
lay ’tory now. I want some hash."—
I Concord Monitor.
A CUT.
'
An aged and wiso Hocliester nogro is
i quoted as saying: “Pears to me like
dar was somo kind of misdecomposishiin
! in all dis talk about ballies cuttin' toes.
Do way F’s cum to look at it, hit's de
toes cuttin' do baby. Leas' wise, dat’s
1 do way hit looks in de. case ob cullud
cliirou.” » .
FORCE OF HA BIT.
Bartender (to customer) You are put
ting water in your whisky, sir. I thought
you always drank it straight?
Customer (hastily)- Why, so I do. I
forgot myself for tlio moment.
Bartender That’s what I thought.
Well, how is tho milk busincs, Mr. Yel
loll ?
A KEEPSAKE.
“You want a keepsake that will always
remind you of mo?” she said.
“f do, darling," lie said tenderly.
“What’s tho matter with myself?” she
whispered.
There will ho a wedding shortly.—
Motion Courier,
A TIE UP.
Diimsey —I understand that there is a
tie up in the Hlobson family.
Popinjay- Indeed! How is that?
Dunisey Why, Hlobson has iwscome
attached to his wife's apron strings.
GOOSE SAUCE.
Striker (coming homo nt 11 p. m.) —
Hiddy, pliwero’s me supper ?
Wife Give sthruek. I can’t worrk
twinty-fonr hours a day whin yerttilf
won’t put in tin.— Life.
Neither Couhl Head It.
A number of gentlemen were talking
the oilier evening, says n Washington
letter, when one of them said: “That re
mind! roe of a story which Lot Morrill
mice tohl me of his own writing. It was
at llm time when Major Dunn, of the
army, was paying attention to tin* Sena
tor’s daughter. Tho young people had
\ coin'’ b> an understanding, but Miss
Morrill thought that papas consent
ought to lie obtained before they pro
ceeded further. Major Dunn wrote a
nice letter to ‘papa, in which he re
quested that, the future of the young
lady might he confided to his care. Hen
ator Morrill could rend the signature,
hut the rest of the letter was worse than
Greek to him. He divined its contents,
however, and at once wrote a reply in
which the desired consent was given.
| Dunn took it to his lady-love with the
remark: “Here’s your father’s letter.”
“What ihs-s he say eagerly inquired
the young lady. “I have lieen trying
to find out ever since I received it," was
the answer, “hut I can make nothing
out of it.” Miss Morrill tried to read
the note, but she, too, failed. “Never
mind,’’saidthe lover, “we will get mar
ried anyliow.” And they were married.
Mrs. Dunn has both the letters framed.
Sim says that there is not a person on
earth who i nn read either of them.
Hohert T. Lincoln lias deeded the fam
ily homestead at Chicago, 111., to the
State of Illinois, which will formally
lake poA-essiou at once. liobert Lin
coln Ini owned llm bouse since the
u-.ss fna'.ion. Many efforts have been
! hi i'e b. speculators and adventurers to
p icha-e the pr ipeuv, but Mr. Lincoln
hss p pe itedly lefus -d oil offers, intend
ing pro!' ib'v t > deed it ultimately to the
it an'l ■ ve it from the grasp of the
money-makers.