Newspaper Page Text
TO
it
When you go. toj
Augusta, don’t fail to
pay a visit to The J.
B. White Co.
THE SOLDIER'S RETURN.
MAKE THE BEST OF IT.
"Three years I l wonder if she’ll kuow tael
I liuip a little, aud 1 left one arm
f At Petersburg; and I am gr >wn as brown
As the plump chestnut# on my little farm;
And I’m as shaggy us the ehe tuut burs,
But ripe and sweet within, and wholly hers.
“The darling! how 1 long to see her!
My heart outruns this feeble soldier pace;
But I remember, after 1 had left. ,
A little Charlie cuine to talcj my nlace;
Ah, how the laughing three ye r-old brow*
eye?
(His mother’s eyes) will star* with pleased
surprise!
“Sure, they’ll be at the eorner watching!
I sent them word that I should some to-
night:
The birds all knew it, for they orowd
around.
Twitter their welcome with a wild delight; j
. j* And that old robin, with a halting wing,
I saved her life three years ago last spring.
“Three years—perhaps I nm but dreaming,
•i- For, like the pilgrim of the long ago,
: I’ve tugged a weary burden at my back, i
( Through summer's heat, and winter’s |
blinding snow.
Till now I reach my home, my darling’* |
breast,
Then I can roll my burden off—and reet."
****** **
I
When morning came the early rising sun
Laid his light finger- on a soldier sleeping
Where a soft covering of bright green gras*
Over two lonaly mound* was lightly
creeping,
But waked him not; this was the restefornal.
Whore the brown ey** reflected love |
supernal.
PRIMITIVE LIFE IN KENTUCKY.
i
to
—
Habit* of Backwoodsmen—The Entst'i ,
Brets—A “Half-Faced” Cabin. .
ILoulsvIlle Oourier-Journal.l
Fiom advance sheets ef a forthcoming
historical work on Kentucky by the Hon. Z. j
F. Smith we give the following interesting
facts;
“Backwoodsmen wer* a class peculiar to j
themselves in their characters, their habits,
and their preferments. Thrlr dres* was
adapted to the life of the forest ranger.
Their bunting-shirt was a loose frook, with
cape, made of deer-skins dressed. Leggings
of the same material covered the lower
limbs, with moccasin s for the feel The
cape, the coat, and the legging were usu
ally adorned with fringes. The undergar
ments vt -“‘course cotton. A leather bolt
encircle*^^ ody; on the right side hung
the hatchdt^p. tomahawk, on tha loft was
the hunting-knife, the powder-horn and bul
let-pouch— all indispeasabls. With garments
less substantial they could not have made
their way through the brush and thorns, or
over rocks anl pebblos. Tho hunter was
his own tailor, and fashioned hi* garments
at the camp-Sre. Each man bora his trusty
rifle, ever on th* alert for deadly foos or
welcome gam*. It was flint-look, but flne-
sighted, and rarely did it fail th* practised
marksman, unless th* sparks from flint and
steel missed th* powder, or thor* was a
"Hash in the pan.” The contingency of flaal
resort to tomahawk or knife imnlied death
to one or both of th# combatants as well.
“The hunter’s camp was so much a part of
the earliest backwoodsman’s Ilfs that w*
must not omit to describe it her*. It was
called a ‘half-faced cabin.’ At th* north
and west sides, from whence the chill winds
blow, the body ef a large /alien tree waa
chosen for the rear end. Ten feet la (rent
of the south or southwest side, and ton foot
apart, two double-sots of stakes wer# flrmly
planted a few inches apart in the ground,
and stan 1 mg about eight feet high, fer the
front corners. Between the double stakes
the ends of the pole* were inserted, while
the other ends rested against or on top of 1
the fallen trees, tnus fo-ming a framework I
for the side of th* varap-oabin. Polos wer* 1
cut and laid across the top, and th* frame- i
work was finished. Tha roof and sides wore
next covered with bark stripped from ad
jacent tree-, or with blankets and tha skla*
of wild beasts slain.
Th* shelter was now complete at top and
anud on three sides. With an ax only It was
•tSe work of a single day. The southerly
Jpid sunny front was left open, and here th*
gamp-fire was built and kindled for tho
gpmfort of th* stalwart household and to
bfoil or stow th* delicious lolu of vonsiou,
the rich steak of boar or buffalo, or tho
dainties of such of th* wild gs me as might
jast have fallen by the hunter’s rifle But
sudden experience? of Indian warfare soon
taught tha prisoners that th* protection of
the frail huntor’s-camp was of little avail
.against tho arrows aud rlflas of th* stealthy
• and ambushed savage, ready to resist to
the death the Intruder on his favorite hunt
ing-ground. The bullet-proof cabin with
'portholes, and Anally tha stockade and
' block -house, whloh war* substituted from
I hard necessity, soon oame to make up apart
of history.”
Pessimists ae Patient*.
P’Family Doctor," in Cassell'* Magariae.]
“Of all patients, my dear H., your pessi
mist, makes the vsry worst He is virtually
dead before he Is half-sick. I speak from
experience; a pessimist is a happy man as
long as the sun shines and ail is going well
with him, but when clouds arlss and illneoa
tomes, then there settles ever both his body
and mind a gloom that Is but the fore
shadowing of darknesi to follow. A medi
cal nan may do his bast for suoh an in
dividual, but It Is usually a thankless task.
It la g wearisome thing trying to liftafallon
man mho will not do a Util* towards halt
ing mmseir.”
A good slmlls a* regards th* effeote of
a tpism and optimism oa a physician’s
nts may be adduced from th* different
uct of a beaten and demoralised, and a
victorious array. Tbs former—so Held sur-
geous tell us—have no heart, their broken
hones will not unite, their Wounds take oa
no kindly action; the sick succumb, they die
like rotten sheep; aud even thoe* who are
well, In vsry fear grow weak and ailing.
How different in th* army triumphant!
Wounds «r* called “soratohes," the men caa
hardly be prevailed upon te go on the sick-
list for them. Those who muet keep •till,
feel less pain than they wouht under ether
circumstances, they sleep well they, eat
well, aud are toon wall altogether. “But
th* pessimist makes a bad soldier wkea at
bis bast."
What's th# use of alway (retting
Uver evils that can’t be cured!
What’s the U3e of finding fault with
What we ku w must be enduredt
Does it make our burdens lighter
If we grumble ’nealh their load!
Doe* it make l’fe’s pathway smoother
If w* fret about the road!
Better us* our time than fill it
Full of sighs uud vain regrets
Over some imagined blunder—
As does he who always frets.
We can not expect life’s pathway
To be always strewn with flowers,
Nor th* time that God has given
Ail be made of happy hours.
Storms will follow every sunshine,
Grief be mixed with every Joy;
And ’tl < best that it should be so—
Gvld’s too s ft without alloy.
“Half our trouble's our invention;"
We’re to blame for half our strife;
Then, if life is what we make it,
Why not make the best of life!
AT AN INDIAN AUCTION.
■ole of a,Dead Brave’* K fleet*—The Oh oat
Placated by Cedar Smoke.
[Cor. Chicago Tribune.)
Your correspondent, witnessed an interest
ing feature in Indian life a short time ago
at ene of the c»m]s in the Kaw agency, In
dian territory. A tent had been erected and
all the effeote of a dead brave were depos
ited In the tent. The Indians were going to
bold an auctioo. At early dawn before the
sun the Indians gathered around the tent.
The auctioneer stepping out of the tent
holding a blanket in his hand, began in a
loud voice to invite bids on the blanket.
“Four dollars I” sang out an old man who
had a patch of yellow paint under his right
eye, and sat on the outer elge of the circle
which had now formed around the tent. “I
will give you live,” cried one of the Indians
sitting in the circle. “It is yours,” said the
auctioneer, and the bidder, after deposit
ing a due-bill for the amount, received the
blanket
The auctioneer now brought out a pair of
beaded leggings, and the bidding began.
One thing was noticeable, the number bid
ding never exceeded two, and the article
was invariably knocked down to the second
bidder. Moccasins, necklacei, fans of eagle
feathers—in fact the whole paraphernalia of
a complete Indian outfit was brought out
and sold to the highest bidder.
Finally aa Indian pip* of red stone—a
very large and handsome one—was brought
out, aud the bidding became livelier. “Five
dollars” was shouted. “Eight,” sang out a
trader, who, besile your correspondent, was
the only paleface in the audience, aud who
already saw the pipe in his mind’s eye hang
ing with his other Indian curiosities; but he
was doomed to disappoiutmeut when a
bungry-looking member of the circle, who
we.* evidently wanting hie breakfast and
wo* anxious to bring the ceremonies to a
duet, said; “My brother, that pipe has
been etaeked in many councils. Our brother
who lies buried on yonder hill,” pointing to
a pile of rocks on a high hill la the distance,
"thought much of that pips. 1 am not will
ing it should fall into other hands. My
brother, 1 will give a pony for the pipe”
These remarks of Old Hungry were received
with a few short yells which denoted groat
satisfaction.
At this point a member with nothing oa
tail a breech-clout came dashing into tho
eirtle, holding in his hands a skillot Sited
with live eoula Ho was followed by an
other one bearing in hit arms a lot ef cedar,
which was deposited over the coals. Those
two wore followed by the dead Indian’*
relatives—wife, sister, and children—
mourning and wringing their hands. The
burning cedar now began to poor forth a
volume of smoke, and one by one th* mem
bers ef the band rushed into the smoke,
bonding down close to tho coals, turning
round and round, with many wild gestures
aod with outstretched blanket, the smoko
at times completely hiding them from view.
"Gome on, my ton,” sold one of the party
taking o firm hold of th* trader’s arm; and
reluetantly the paleface was drawn into the
smoko, where he performed the smoke act
to the evident satisfaction of the party.
Hastily withdrawing ia a lit ef eoughiag
aad gasping for breath, he was met with
moay cries of “Good, my son I tho ghosts
will aover trouble you.” Tho rformanoo
was bow ended by tho auctioneer turning
ever all the re cel nts of the sal* to the rala-
INTERFERING WITH GENIUS.
Am Inventor of Wheelbarrow* 1* Sus
pected of Stealing.
[Arkansuw Traveler.]
“Let thut, wheelbarrow alone.” cried Col.
Mutterson, us be steppe 1 to the end of the.
gallery and called to an old negro who hud
entered the back yard.
"Kali!”
“1 say put down that wheelbarrow or I’ll
send for a policeman.”
“Oh, 1 ken put it down, sab, an’ sab* yor
all dat trouble. 1 uebbur wants er pusson
ter go outen his way ter’commodate me.”
“All right. Now get out of this lot. j
First thing I know vou'ii steal ”
“Now, look heah, mister. I doan kuow
whut yer name is, but. J wants yer ter look,
heah jes’ de same. 1 wpn’t thinkin’ erbont
takiu’ dis thing. I makes de-e imperments. ,
snh, an’ 1 wanted ter ’zaminedis one, ’case
It’peered to be a new 'ventiou, but, sab,
ef yer’s so easy skeered, I’ll bid yer good
tnawnin’.”
“You must excuse me if I have wrong
fully accused you.”
"Oh, neber mine. De ole eaints mu
’cused an’ pussycutod, sab. Ef da could
stau’ it widout ’plainin’ I oughtontar
grumble.”
Shortly after the colonel went toward
the house the old negro, after quietly lifting
the wheelbarrow over the fence, mue>d:
“Folks is gittln’ so spicious deg* days dat
sometiody is gwin* ter git inter trouble.
Popular Kduoattoa la the Soaeh.
[Th* Current]
Rev. Dr. A. D. Mayo, of Boston, ha* de
voted a large portion of hi* time for th* teat
flv* years t* the advancement of popular
education in the south. He has been actu
ated by motive* of th* purest philanthropy,
and has acquired a thorough knowledge of
th* educational condition of the south and
of th* needs of th* poopl* in that part of tho
country. He ha* Just returned from a tour
through his field of labor, and the following
statement, recently mod* by him to a re
porter of The Transcript, of Boston, will
oorv* to ihow that th* south, if oikiug for
appropriations from the national treasury,
has aot failed of effort ia this diihctlon oa
her own part:
"Within twenty years the southern people
have done more, considering their circum
stances, for education than was ever done
before by any people. They have re-estab
lished their old academies, colleges, and
professional schools for whites, on the whole
upon a broader foundation than formerly,
and in every state th* publit fro* school, for
all classes and both races, has beefl estab
lished, and to-day offers from three to six
months yearly instruction to every child.
Although some gao,#00,000 have beef
donated to this work, chiefly for the colored
people, by th* north and the nation, yet
within tbie period th* south Itself, out of it*
poverty, and amid suah trials as can not
even be understood by th* stranger, has
given more than 1100,000,000 as a plant for
th* children; and this year will expend |1B,-
•00,000 on th* common schools. Koeres on
little southern cities tax their people from
I to S mills on tho dollar more than Boston
for public schools. Indeed, Mississippi, on*
of the poorest states, to-day gives to each
pupil as much as Massachusetts iu the days
of Horsoe Mann."
Misery—A girl with a sew dross, and no
place to go. —(Marathon Independent. Move
Misery— A girl without a new drees, and
asm pin#* te go—{Marchant traveler.
Additional Misery—A girl with a new drew
aad seme place logo, aiul uo “feller” to go
with her. —[Louisville Courier-Journal.
“Folks is giftin' so ' spicious dote da|/s."
Dat man ain't got no use fur dls ’horror.
Whut d,i do Bible say 'bout de pusson whnt
buried his talon’s end didn’ make nothin'
outen’ eiuf Folks oughtor think erbout
dose things.”
Gen. Grant’s Knowledge ef Business.
IEx-Hvcvetary George M. Robeson.]
There is one other incident which now
occurs to mo that may be of Interest at this
t ms, in view of the occurrences of the last
two years. Quite a year after Qeu. Grant
was elected president of the United States I
found him one morning In his library
patiently pasting check stamps in a large
check book which he bod Just received from
the bank. Noticing that the book was
already stamped I said: “Why, Mr. Presi
dent. what are you doing?" “Licking check
stamps,” he replied. “1 never cau find on*
when I want it, so 1 thought I would spend
half an hour this morning getting ready for
Mrs. Grant; but it is going to take mo all
day to stamp the book ” I explained that
th* book was already stamped, and pointed
out to him the engraved and highly orna
mental eagle which acknowledged th*
receipt of two cents on each by the internal
revenue department. “Why,” said he, “this
is news to me. I have used Just such a book
for a year and have stamped every check."
He rested from his . labors, but not until he
had already pasted quite fifty superfluous
stnmps. The fact te that this yreat man
experienced in the direction of large affaire
and familiar with the principles which gov
erned them, was at the ame time utterly
ignorant it commercial details. Not ac
customed to those transactions and wholly
unsuspicious in his nature, he was, notwith
standing his great qualities perhaps by
reason of them, tha most likoly man to b«
deceived in such business that 1 have ever
known.
Wliy’fli* Italian* fling.
iScientific American. |
C. H. Von Klein, M. D., gives the follew-
ing in a paper read before th* thirty -ninth
annual session of tho Ohio Htato Medical so
ciety, at Dayton:
Through tho kindness and under th* aus
pices of the late Dr. Bordlnl, ef Rums, th*
author had made th* examination of tho
threats of thirty-two Italians, thirteen
of whom were professional singers.
Th* Italians appaar t* have natural
orgsm of vole* fer music He
found the throat very roomy, th* tonsils
almost level with the faucet, th* uvula ex-
extending only one-eighth of an inoh from
the soft palate, th* posterior carve very
large, the larynx thiokly lined with a
smooth mucous membrane, th* trachea
enormous Another peculiarity was, the
author found It very seldom necessary to
use a tongue depreseer. They seem to pin os
their tongue dowa to th* mylohyoid mneotes,
forming It Into a concave shape. This *o
oomplishment is necessary for a singer, aad
can be effected ealy by a long and tedious
training.
«« a itreatVnf Prairie Ales
I Chicago Times. |
Many of the young Canadians who took
part in tho Riel campaign were, as a body,
of splendid physique averaging between flv*
feet ten and six feet two, who used to wear
in Montreal and Toronto pointed boot* and
write with steel pens, ohalned to the count
er* of a bank or business house, with no
proepect of beoomlng partuer* in the buti-
lies- which enslaved them. ‘
Since they got their lunge filled with th*
prairie air they have closed their ledgers
and taken to building log houses for them
selves, striding over the sweet grass, gallop
ing after half-wild cattle, oeoklng their own
dinners, measuring monthly more around
tb* chest, and feeling that it will be their
own fault if they do not toko their place
among the man who are mastering a new
laud. A strong Canadtaa young-ter who
will labor, working with his own hands,
wlU get 1400 a year and hte board, and be
tempted to uo great expeue* at his tailor’s,
Party from Europe (to cm tom-bouse
officer)—Please exumin# this friend of mine,
to see if be has any contraband goods about
or ia his person.
What a Newflpnper Lk,
|Bill Ny#.]
The newspaper of to-dav is a library. It
is an encyclopedia, a poem, a biography, a
history, a prophecy, n directory, a time
table, a romance, n cook book, a guide, a
horoscope, un art critic, a political resume,
a ground plan of the civilized world, a low-
priced multum iu parvo. It is a sermon, a
song, a circuR, an obituary, a picnic, a ship
wreck, a symphony in solid brevier, a med
ley of life and death, a grand aggregation
of man’R glory and his shame. It is, in
short, a biril’s-eye view of all the magnan
imity and meanness, the joys and griefs, the
births and deaths, the pride and poverty of
the world, and all for two ceuts—sometimes.
I could tell you some more thing! that the
newspaper of to-day is if you had time to j
stay here and your business would not suffer j
in your absence. Among others, it is a long- ;
felt want, a nine-column paper in a five-
column town, a lying sheet, a feeble effort,
a financial problem, a tottering wreck, a 1
political tool and a sheriff's sale.
Obtaining an Acknowledgment.
iArgonaut, Storvette.l
A French money lender, complaining to
tho late Baron Rothschild that he had lent
a nobleman 10,000 francs, who bad gone off
to Ban Francisco without leaving any ac
knowledgment of the debt, the baron said:
‘Well, write to him und ask him to send
you the 70,000 francs he owes you.” “But he I
only owes me ten,” said the money lander.
“Precisely so,” rejoined the baron; “and be .
will write and tell you so, aud thus yon will !
get his acknowledgment”
Bob Burdette Hells a Hog.
(Brooklyn Eagle |
It is done! Aud yet my hands are clean 1
While Mister Brown was taking his after
noon nap I sold his dog for Sit to u broom
peddler, who promised that he would not
Mil him this side of the county line. Th*
dog is missed. Mister Brown has gone
flown the road in the other direction, i
and has already whistled all the ,
dogs iu the township except his own
around him. 1 am te follow straight i
after tho peddler. Mister Brown gra-ped
my hand and said, “Bless vou!" when I
volunteered. All is well. When i come ;
back to-night 1 am going to set up the ale !
and toust—Mister Brown is u Prohibition- ]
let—with that $3 I got for his dog. This j
will only be doing the square thing by Mis-
tar Brown and the dog.
* * * * * * * *
In conclusion. 1 have returned from my
fruitless pursuit, but 1 have not ti e $3. I
gave it to the peddler to tuke the dog fifteen
mile* further than his contract called for.
It ia well.
Where He Drew the Line.
[Atlanta Constitution ]
They tell a good story on a South Geor- |
gian statesman, who went to Charleston in ;
the old days and stopped at a hotel. A
waiter brought out some shrimps, which the i
Georgian stowed away as best ue could. In
a moment the waiter reappeared with a
stand ol celery.
"No,' said the Georgian, shaking his bead
solemnly, “1 have tried your bugs and I
don’t like them, and you can bet yer life 1
don’t wunt non* er your grass!”
Meet Iua; His Brother-In-L*w.
t (Toronto Truth.)
A story is told of a shrewish Scotch
woman who tried to wean her husband
from tho drum shop by employing her
brother io net the part of a ghost »nrf
frighten Joh i on his way hom>. "Wno or*
you!" asked the gude man, as the apparition
rose before him from behin i ^brush. “1 am
Auld Nick,” was th# i*ply. "Com# awa’,
mon,” sail John, noth. >g dauutet. ‘‘Gl#’*
a shake o’ y our hand; lain married to a
sister o' .yours!"
Moral: Always Look at Both Kudo.
(Bridgewater Independent-!
This is an apple, large and round.
At the top of the barrel always found.
King: Kcdwald’s Altars.
[The Century.
When Edwin reigned in Britain,
And Red wald reigne l iu Kent,
Tho news of Christ’s religion
Throughout the country went.
Ed win embraced it warmly,
Unquestioning, contfen t.
** I will not Lie too hasty,”
Said the canny king of Kent.
“ It muy be Christ is strongest,
And the Devil safely pent;
But till I am quite csrtain,”
Baid Rad wald, king of Kent,
“ I’U give to m-ithor worship
Unqualified assent;
My temple has two altars.”
(Oh. canny king of Kent!)
* The foremost and the biggest
To Christ henceforth is lent;
But th ' small one in the corner,"
Said Red wald kiug of Kent,
“ I'll keep burning to the devil.
That he may see 1 meant
To do him no dishonor,”
Kaid the canny king of Kent.
Christians rule now in Britain,
And Christians rule in Kent;
And men suppose th# devil
Is dead, oi- safely pent.
But in some secret corner
The most of them consent
To give him one small altar,
Like Rodwuld king of Kent.
Helen Jackson (H. H.)
A Cause for Depression,
(Puok.1
m“OIi, Leander, tell me truly, how do 1
look! Master haa shave 1 me according - to
his own peculiar taste, and I feel like a bal
let-girl ou the first night of a new opera”
The Gardener's Wooing.
[H. C. Dodge in Chicago Sun.]
1 1 love yon, dear Miss Sal Hify,"
Tom Ato whispered low,
1 If you carrot all for me
It’s thyme to tell me low.’
Miss Sally’s cheeks quite radish got,
Her heart began to beet;
She said, “ No sorrel love you not,”
To squash his sweet corn-ceit.
‘ Hoel Water-melon-garllo cuss
I yam,” Tom cried in woe;
‘ I’m sickle lot. How caa you thus
Treat me! Oh I Lettuce go.”
‘ I’ll take guano-bey you, Sal;
I’ll innke cucumber-fore
All else. Oh, you are a rake good gal—
Do mv sweet peas restore.”
* You’re foud of hearty jokes,” said she,
•' And full of onion know.”
‘ This is no artichoke,” groaned he,
“ Nor fun. It’s business, oh!”
* Endive a fodder rich, immense—
He’ll soon turn up hi* toes—”
’ Oh, Tom 1 That make* hay difference—
You love me, I suppose! 1 ’
‘ I do,” be cried; “ weed know delight—
Each morning I’d get Jp
Potato clock—the Are light
And swing yon in a soup.”
‘ What celery is spade you! I
Mean biz. That ail!” said she,
‘ Well, ti l your pop-corn-sents to die
You cantelope with ma”
10,000 pounds of zephyr af,'4J cents
per ounce.
Sweeping reductions in elegant bro
caded silks and velvets; all 2 50 bro
cades now 1 50; all 8 50 now 2 50; all
5 00 now 3 00: all 7 50 now 5 00.
These goods at these prices are to be
found at White’s Annex.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4 J cents
per ounce.
28 pieces 0-4 wide all wool block
corkscrew reduced, from $1 25 to 89
cents. White’s Annex.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4 j ceuts
per ounce.
500 pieces of all wool serge worth
05 cents, recuced to 37J. To be found
only in the “Annex” of the J. II.
White Co.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4J cents
per ounce. ,
800 pieces of sangular cloth, all
wool,jvalue 50 cents per yard, now 26
cents. At White’s Annex.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4j} cents
per ounce.
85 cents blarney homespun now 65
cents. For this class of goods ladies
will call at White’s Annex.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4 J cents
per ounce.
85 cents all wool 6-4 sangular cloth
now 65 cents. The J. B. .White Oo.
“Annex.”
10,000 pounds of zephyrjat4} cents
per ounce.
50 cents satin berber, down to 35
ceuts at White’s Annex.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4$ cents
per ounce.
$28 00 short wraps at $17 60.
$25 00 short wraps at $13 75. Only
at White’s Annex.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4 j cents
per ounce.
$1 25 colored and black grosgr&ia
silks aoTr^o 89 cents. In th* An
nex of the J . 'Aw.Wliite Co.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at' 4* cents
per ounce.
50 pieces of 6-4 wide boucla. re
duced from 2 00 to 125 per yard.
These prices can only be found at
White’s “Annex.”
10,000 pounds of zeyhyr at 4 j cents
per ounce.
385 pieces of black satiu berber cut
down to 37£, at the Annex of the J.
B. White Co.
10,000 pounds of zephyr at 4? cents
$6 60 astrican cloth, in black aud
brown, yards wide, at $3 45. Only
at the White’s Annex.
10, 000 pounds of zephyr at 4 j cents
per ounce.
38 pieces boucla reduced from $1 50
to 99 cents. At White’s “Annex.”
This the apple small aud mean.
Always at th* bottom seen.
7-4 Turkey red Table Damask at
26c. a yard up.
Street Gar Neon*.
rural
Istdy (in an angry and ehrill voioo)—Con-
iuotor, whv don’t yon stop tb* car when I
tell vou!
Irascible Bachelor—Conductor, th* lady
wont* tp know why the d—1 you don’t atop
the car!
Lady (more angrily still)—1 didn’t sav so,
dr."
Irascible Bachelor—No, madam, but that’s
what you meant
She Wished the Breath Had Isft Him.
(Boston Tran icrlpt. I
“Wham have vou boon at this time of
night!” demanded Mr*. Hmitli of her lord
and master, when th* latter enme sneaking
heme after midnight. “Just beau to see a
man on busineis, dear," replied Smith, in a
terrible self-conscious manner; “hurried
home so fast I’m almost out of breath.”
“Out of breath I" exclaimed Mrs. 8., derl*-
lv*ly. “Pity you wasn’t I Phew I For
mercy’s sake, turn your head t’other way—
you amell like a distillery.’’
10,000 pounds o? Zephyr at 4jc.
per ounce at White’s.
Home Again.
[Boston CJourler.]
The maiden walks th* strand no more
Enjoying the ocean breese,
Where the tiuv wavelets kiss the snore
And the sand is olive with fleas.
No more in a suit of blue or drab
She into the water goes;
She fears no more th* voracious crab
That sought to devour her toes.
She is done for the while with seaside hops,
Thom innocent dissipations;
She has turned her back on dudee and fops,
And given up beach flirtations.
The maiden Is back from her summering
To home and its deur delights,
Back to the gardeu gate, to swing
With her beau through the uutumu nights.
A SAD HOME-COMING
She’s home at lost and her heart is gay;
She opens her wardrob:, alack] alack!
She finds that while she has been away
The motiis have devoured her sealskin
sacque.
Lswlles of the Hons*.
(Detroit. Free Press.]
“Is tho lady of th* bouse inf” he asked, a*
he stood nn tho steps of a residence in Cam
avenue the other morning.
“Whioh lady of do house!” asked the girl
who answered the ring.
“Why, are there twol”
“Sartln, sah. If you want de white lady,
ehe am out. If you haa bizuoss wid de
cull'd lady, purooed to dewelop.”
Tile Young Idee.
! Harper's Bazar.]
Freddy had boon repoaiadl) told he must
not ask people for money. Oivu day lie met
Mr. Wilburns, who could never resist an ap
peal from the small boy.
"Mr. Williams," eaid Freddy, “do you
ever give five centaes to little boys what
don't ask for 'em!”
He got the money.
The Itlglit Man Turns tip.
(Foreign Exchange.]
A man wont into the country last Sunday
for a walk. Ha oarrled hi* overcoat on hu
arm, hut, finding it burdensome, huug it ou
a fence Tukiug a card from hi* pocket he
wrote; “Do not touch this coat; infected
with smallpox." He came back two hour*
later aud found th# card, upon whioh w*i
written, underneath his wanting, "Thank*
for tb ooat; I’ve hod the smallpox.”
, «W*
50 ocutu Satin Berb«r down to 35c.
MAIN BUILDING.
Ou center counter will be found
42 inch 50 centB cashmere at 25c.
per yard.
25 cents satins at 15.
20 cents cashmere at 10,
10 cents serges at 5.
12J cents crepe cloths at 5.
7-4 Turkey red table damask at 25c.
per yard.
50 cases semper idem shirting,
thrown on the floor at 6|c, worth
by the piece.
ueamiRU.
Landlady—I wish to say that there will
be dessert to-day for everybody. Thoe* who
have paid their board wul get pudding for
dessert. Thoe* who have not will deesrt th*
table.
A Good Customer Sacrificed.
(New Tork Tlttaes. |
“That boy of yours is not adapted for tb*
undertaking business,” explained an under
taker to the boy’* father, who inquired, why
he had been discharged.
“What’s the kroubl* with hlmf ’
“He hasn’t a realising sons# of what is
due the afflicted. Day befor* yesterday
Mrs. B. buried her fourth husband. I sent
th* boy up to team at what hour sh* wished
th* ceremony te tak* place, and he asked
her what her regular time of day was for
burying husbands. I expiot to lose her
trad* entirely.”
Gliureh Note* from Site Young.
(Columbus Dispatch.)
■aid Bobby 'te the minister at fliun« < :
“Con a church whistlef 1
“Why do you askf
“’Coe pa owes #19 back pew rent, and he
says he’s going to let the church whistle
f*r it.”
(Boston Qlehe.
“Little girl, do vou know whose house
this te!” asked a •oleoin-looking man of a
bright child eoated on the church step*.
‘"Ye*, sir; it's Gad’*, but He «In’t In.* nh*
■aid, as tli* old gentleman was a bent to
C up the stop*, “and Hi* agent’* goo* to
»pn”