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THE MERCURY.
Entered kb second-class mutter at the Sen-
deraville Postoffloe, April 27, 1880.
BendemlUe, Washington Couty, 0*.
ruBUsnsD bt
JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH.
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THE MERCURY.
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DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE.
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VOL. I.
SANDEESVILLE. GA., OCTOBEE 19, 1880.
NO. 2
THE MERCURY.
PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY.
SI
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G. W. H. WHITAKER.
DENTIST,
Sandersyille, Ga.
Terms Cash.
Offloo at bis residence on Harris Street.
April 3, 1880.
B. D. EVANS,
Attorney atLaw,
April 3, 1880.
Sandersyille, Ga.
DR. WM. RAWLINGS,
Physician & Surgeon,
Sandersyille, Ga.
Office at Sandorsyille Hotel.
April 10, 1880.
E. A. SULLIVAN,
NOTARY PUBLIC.
Sandersyille, Ge.
Special attention given to collection o!
otaims.
Offloo in the Court-House.
0. H. ROGERS,
Attorney at Law,
Sendorsville, Ga.
Prompt attention given to all business.
Office in northwest loom ot Court-House.
May *, 1880.
C. C. BROWN,
Attorney at Law,
Sandersyille, Qe.
Will prectioe in the State and United State*
Courts.
Office in Court-House.
H. N. H0LLIFIELD,
Physician & Surgeon,
Sandersyille, Ga.
Offloe next door to Mrs. Bayne’s millinsry
store on Han is Street.
DR. J. B. ROBERTS,
Physician & Surgeon,
Sandersyille, Ga.
May be consulted at hie offloe on Haynes
street, in the Masonio Lodge building, irom 9
Into 1 P a. and Irom 8 to 6 p m; daring
other hours at his residence, on Ghuroh street,
when not professionally engaged.
April 3 1880.
Michael’s Mallet,
Long, long ego in the olden day,
On a elope ot the Tuscan hills there lay
A village with quarries all around
And blocks ol marble that piled the ground;
And scattered among them, everywhere,
With wedge and hammer, rule and square,
With the duat ol the marble powdered white
Sat masons who ohtseled Irom morn till night
The earliost sound that the baby hoard
Was neither the whistle nor song ot bird,
Nor bleating ot lambs, nor rush of breeze
Through tho tops of the tall old chestnut
trees,
Nor the laughing oi girls, nor the whoop and
shout
Ol the sohool at the oonvent fust let out,
Nor the tinkle ol water plashing Hreet
From tho dolphin’s mouth in the village street.
But foremost and flrst, that sharp and dear
Arrested tho little Miohael's ear
When he waked irom sleep, we* the mallet’s
knook
On the chisel that ohipped the rough hewn
blook;
From the dawn ol the day till the.twilight
came,
Thediok ot the tools was still the same;
And, oonstant as loll the fountain’s drip,
Was the tap, tap, tap ! and the chip, ohip,
chip t
And when he could orawl beyond the door
Ol the cottage, ia search of a plaything more,
Or (arther oould venture, a prying lad,
What toys do yon think wero the first he had ?
Why, splinters of marble white and pare,
And a mallet to break them with, bo sure ;
And a chisel to shape thorn, should ho chooso,
Just such as ho saw the masons use.
So Miohrel, the baby, had his way,
And hammered and ohipped, and would not
play
With the simple and senseless sort of toys
That pleased the rest ot the villago boys.
They laughed at the little churohes he
Would dally build at his nurse's km e;
They seouted the pictures that he drew
On tho smooth, white slabs with a ooal or two;
They taunted and teased him when he tried
To mold irom the rubbish cast aside
Kudo figures, and screamed “ soul tori 1" when
His bits ot marble he shaped like men.
But who ol thorn droamed his mallet's sound
Would over bo heard the earth around !
Or his mimio ohurohos in time beoomo
The mlghtost temple ot Christendom T
Or the pictures he painted fill the dome
Ot the Sistine—gramlost ot sights in Rome?
Or tho villnge baby that ohiseled so
Be tho marvelous Michael Angelo !
— H'iat Awakt.
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white or red.
MARJORIE’S CHOICE.
" You surely oro not in earnest Mar
jorleP”
Why notP” asked that young lady,
standing on tlp-too to reach a bunch of
apple-blossoms just above her head;
• is it anything unreasonable in me to
prefer being Miss Melrose, tho talented
voung authoress of New York, instead
of a country minister’s wife and help
mate P”
“But, Marjorie, do you think I ex
pect or desire you to bury your heaven
born talentP God forbid! Come to
me, and, surrounded by tho friends who
have known nnd loved you from child
hood, and, under the shadow of your
favorite apple-blossoms that you said
were your first inspiration, write as
much as you please.”
“No, Willard; what you ask is im
possible, for I am not the least bit in
love with you. Besides,” she continued,
hurriedly, and not seeming to see the
look of pain in her companion’s eyes
“ I could never be happy in the life you
describe. I would bo miserable in
chains, even though they were tho
flowery chains of love that bound me to
my jailer, and my repinings and rebel
lion would soon make us both unhappy
I must have excitement and active
work. I must be in the thickest of the
battle ot life. I long for power, in
fluence and fame; but, even if I cannot
‘ Bo a hero in the strife,’ I must be on
the scene of battle, and do all I can.
shall write no more poetry, though
the eulogiums of the public on my little
book were more than I ever dared hope
for Henceforth I intend to live upon
reason, and not even waste sentiment on
verse. But with politics, philosophy, or
some other literary weapon, I will con
quer tho fickle goddess fame, steal a few
laurel leaves for my brow and a key to
her temple.”
“And do vou expect to be happy?
Ah! Marjorie, there is a mighty factor
you have omitted in your calculations.
Your brain will be busy, your intellect
expanding; but, even if fame should
shake the choicest bonbons from her
store at your feet, your heart will be
starving, and you will be miserable.’
“Pshaw 1” said Marjorie, recklessly;
“ let but the gods endow me with the
gifts I crave, and Cupid may keep his
paltry arrows in peaco. My heart has
been too highly educated to sigh for
so childish an article. For this much
talked of love is merely a deceased
imagination, common to youth, like
measles® and whooping-cough, and
which we got over in time, just as, we
do our fancy for dolls and tops, and our
elief in ghosts and fairies."
“You are doubtless sincere in your
belief now, Marjorie,” said her compan
ion. a little impatiently, “ but the time
will come when, even in the zenith of
your success, you will be willing to bar-
Both large and small flower patterns
appear in new brocades and damasses,
but cashmere designs are more in vogue
than any others.
it all lor a heart that is tender and
“ I will wait for you .alwavs, my dar
ling !" said Willard, solemnly.
" It is unkind in you to say all this,’’
said the girl, with sudden resentment,
“just when I had boasted in my diary
that we were a living illustration of
dear old Plato’s theory; but you always
were thoughtless.”
“You are coming to see grandma?"
she added, presently, as the supper-bell
sent a oheery invitation through tho
orchard; “ she will never forgive you if
you slight her,” and, seeing that her
companion hesitated, “if you do not
come I shall think you are offended and
angry with me."
“Would you care, Marjorie, dearP"
Willard asked, eagerly.
“Of oourse it would make me very
unhappy to think that we, who have
been friends from our cradles, should,
on the eve of my departure, be estranged
about such a trifle as love; something
that you will forget before this fruit
blushes ’neath August's kisses; and, be
fore apple-blo'soms come again, there
will be a preity, blue-eyed wife at the
parsonage—Annie Leigh, perhaps—who
will fill the position sol much more
worth! y and gracefully than I.”
“Stop, Marjorie, interrupted Willard
almost sternly, “ Heaven knows I have
borne a great deal from you, but I can
not endure this unkind jesting whon you
well know that ‘as long as life hath
shadows, as long as the heart hath woes,
I shall love you, only you.”
Of course, that is the proper speech
to make just now, Will dear, but I pre
dict you will consolefyourself very soon
witu Annie Leigh. As old Mrs. An
drews would say, I feel it in my bones.”
Marjorie gained her wish, A few
months aftor her arrival at her uncle’s
Fifth avenue home, she had, like Byron,
waked to find herself famous on the pub-
lication of her first proso work. Two
others followed in quick succession.
But just when my heroine felt she had
almost climbed the height of literary re
nown, when the praises of an admiring
public wero wafted to her like Incense,
with only now and tuen a criticism,
wliioh she insisted only spiced the other
wise Insipid ovation, that eocentrio
young lady suddi nly declared her inten
tiou of devoting her time to American
politics. So thorough was her study of
tho subject that she now (six years after
you first met her) vlrtunll / stood at the
head of her unclo’s widely-circulated
and influential daily. She had indeed
climbed to a dizzy height where few
women ever ventured. Her editorials
were copied everywhere, her opinions
quoted from “Dan to Beersheba,"but
was she happy P some one asks. Was
the mountain as purple and beautiful as
when sho gazed longingly at it from the
sweet valley of youthP or did she And it
but common earth after all, and the
mysterious beauty lay in the misty val
Icy of girlhood she had left behind?
Marjorie diopped her pen with a
short, impatient sigh. “It is strnngc
that little Nell’s words should haunt me
so to night, ringing in my ears, and
waking echoes of that still, small voioo
I had hoped was forever stilled. What
does that child of eight een know of the
the heart, that she should assert so con
fidently, ‘Ambition, even gratified am
bition can never satisfy the inner sane-
tuary of your soul; you will never be
happy till you lovo.’ Are tho words of
a child to undermine the foundations ol
my theories of life, love and happiness
that six years ago I boasted wero built
on the solid rock of reason instead of on
the shifting sands of human uffectionP
And yet—have they brought peace to me
after allP I would freely give power,
fame and ambition for the look in Nell’s
blue eyes as she talked of her husband.
Ah! child, with only your trusting heart
to guide you, you have found and gath
ered the little wayside flower, happiness,
which in my selfishness and pride I
have missed. Across ttie chasm of
years, comes a faint yet never-dying
echo of the same words.
“Willard, you at least truly loved
me, and would have saved mo Irom my
self, and I would not, and now it is for
ever too late, lor the fire in my heart
has burned so low that there-is now left
only a faint, tender strain of regret, and
the white ashes of memory. I have in
deed passed the Rubicon of youtii and
hope, and for mo thore is no redemp
tion.”
Little joe Harris, Marjorie’s special
errand bov and devoted slave, after ar
ranging to his satisfaction the furniture
and papers in her private sanctum in
her uncle’s large establishment, had
placed a tiny bunch of apple-blossoms
on his idol’s desk, and now stood half
bashfully watching Marjorio, as she
came in, pale and weary-looking from
last night’s vigil, and sat down to write.
Seeing the flowers, she drew them to
ward her with a look of pleased sur
prise, but, as she inhaled their fragrance,
gradually there stole over her face a
shadow, marring its brightness, as a
cloud crosses the face of the sun. The
breath of the flowers was laden with
old associations and memories of her
happy home at Appledalc farm, of her
grandmother, who had long since
crossed that mystic river whose tide
never ebbs toward the shores of time,
and wafted on their sweet breath"came
her talk with Willard Lester in the
sun-lit orchard on thnt afternoon so
long ago. Then afull! knowledge of her
mistake swept over her, and, laying her
cheek against the pink petals, she burst
into a passion of tears. Poor Joe, ut
terly amazed at such a reception of so
paltry a gift, started to her, then stole
softly from the room, and stood guard
outside to prevent intruders. Like the
smitten rock at Horcb, the tears burst
when the flowers whispered to her of
Willard’s solemn “1 will wait for you
always,” the white blossoms of hope
sprung into bloom.
“It was all wrong,” she whispered,
in return; “I wandered into the wrong
pathway, and my palace oar of ambition
has only brought me to tho gates of dis
content, but I will go home and begin
over again, trusting to heaven and my
awakened heart this time.”
It was hard to tear herself away from
her business engagements and duties,
harder still to persuade her uncle that
he could certainly spare her a while, and
that she really needed a* rest; but her
indomitable energy enabled her to ac
complish them all, and one week later
found her sitting on the old, familiar
porch razing at the lovely soene before
her and listening to a perfect tirade of
gossip from hor mother’s only sister,
who now lived at the farm. Marjorie
was longing to ask for one old friend in
particular, yet something in her heart
choked back his name, and she sat won
dering at her own reticence, and why
Aunt Lizzie did not speak of the min
ister, when two figures came through
the little wicket gate and up to the
porch, where she now rose to welcome
her guests.
Miss Melrose,” said Willard Lester
—for one them of was,Indeed,ho—“ I am
most happy to welcome you lonco moro
to D., where, I assure you, you have
always been missed;” then, turning to
his companion, ho continued, “I hope
you will need no introduction to my
wife, whom'you onoo knew as Annlo
Leigh."
For one moment the earth seemed
slipping from under Marjorie's feet, and
tho fair landscape looked black before
her stnrtlcd eyes; but, before Mr. Les'
ter’s voice died away, the woman
of the world greeted his wife in her
calm, clear voice and most winning
smile.
Murjoric stayed two weeks at Apple
dalo farm, and tLen in spite of their re
monstrances went back to her old life
and work. To her aunt's pleadings nnd
Willard’s arguments, who pointed out
to her the good she could accomplish in
tho village with her wealth, energy and
culture, she made only one reply.
“ Busy myself as I will, the range of
action seems monotonous and confined.
I began too soon to draw around me the
large circle of literature and notion, and
the small sphere opon to mo in D. seems
a sail going back in life. No, the wan
derer’s ban is again upon me, and 1
must turn again to the., land of excite
ment.”
Her city friends saw no change in
their queen, when she was again among
them, except, perhaps, tho lines about
her mouth were a triflo deepor, and the
shadow in her wonderful eyes a shade
denser and more impenetrable than be
fore. “But," they argued, “of course
Marjorie had been inexpressibly bored
by that duty visit to her aunt; sho would
be her old self after the anticipated trip
to Europe during the summer.”
As for her, burying tho dead blossoms
of hope from hor sight and heart, sho
turned resolutely to her work again.
Was her fate an exceptionally hard
one, after allP
“Ah, well! for us all, some swcot
hope lies deeply buried from human
eyes.”
Trades Unions In England.
Workingmen’s societies in England
grow to enormous proportions, possibly
because, in addition to their trades
union features, they take the place of tho
mutual aid and benetic'al associations
eo common in this country. Four of the
great English societies—the engineers,
iron founders, boiler makers, and steam
engine makers—have nearly eight thou
sand members, with incomes amount
ing to over one million dollars a year.
They paid out in 1879 more than twice
as much, chiefly for the benefit of mem
bers who were sick or out of work. A
million dollars were spent on the unem
ployed, mostly in form of done.tions,
but a large amount for traveling ex
penses. A quarter of a million was
awarded to men on strike, but this was
only one-eighth of tho whole amount
distributed, the societies not one im ag
ing struggles with employers, except in
rare cases. The administration oi the
affairs of these and co-operative socie
ties in England is remarkable for econ
omy nnd honesty, vast corporations
being managed for workingmen for
years with quite as much success as at
tends the business ventures of merchants
and bankers supposed 10 be specially
qualified for such undertakings.
FOR THE FAIR SEX.
The lew of Marrtaxee In France.
As there are many Americnn girls
who meditate or commit matrimony
with Frenchmen, it is well to have
the French law on marriages with
foreigners stated. The case stands
thus: If an American woman marries
a Frenchman in this country in accord
ance with American law, and ho be un
der the age of twenty-five, but of mar
riageable age according to our code, the
union may bo declared invalid in
France, unless tho bridegroom has ob
tained the permission of his parents to
marry. As it would not enter the mind
of an Atnerioan girl to imagine that a
young man of four-and-twenty required
the sanction of his parents ere he could
be legally married, one need hardly say
inquiry on this point is seldom made.
The marriage is celebrated nnd ohildren
are born. The family may after a time
find it convenient to go to Franco, nnd
then the unhappy lady who has formed
a connection of this kind, discovers that
in the native land of her husband she
is neither maid, wife nor widow. She
may be east off at any moment. In
deed, if the parents of her husband are
powerful and unscrupulous, sho may,
on their representations, be expelled
from tho country by tho orders and
coercion of the polioo. Painful instances
of the working of this law have been
recently brought to notice—instances
in which ladies of respectable birth and
gentle nurture suddenly found them
selves discarded, and thrust with little
ones on the cruel streets of Paris, home
less and friendless. But for the kindly
succor of ono or two charitable organiz
ations in the oapital Hof France, it is
impossible to say what end tney might
have come to. However, even after
charity has rescued them from their
miserable plight, their condition is and
must remain infinitely painful. No
amount of benevolence can restore the
discarded matron to her honorable sta
tion-
Uambelta’g Lire.
The upper rooms at the Palais Bour
bon are less desolately grand than those
below; and here, in certain snug petit
appartments, Gambetta truly liveB. He
has had the place fitted up with a special
view to his peculiar needs. In one
room he revenges himself by the com
forts of his dinners on the occasional
desolation of the breakfasts eaten below.
He is by no means indifferent to tho
pleasures of tho table—ns a Frenchman
of influence ho ennnot afford to be; but
ho has learned to enjoy these with more
moderation since his doctors warned
him that he was on the high-road to a
catastrophe. At one time he never
walked, but simply worked and fed,
fed and worked; now he does his given
number of miles on foot every day, al-
wnys with a companion, and as often as
not, with Goquelin, the great comic
actor of the Franoaise, Moreover he
takes steady exercise in his gymnasium
and finds the time for it by getting his
secretary to read the morning papers
while he is up aloft on the bars. An
other part of his regimen of health is to
take cold douches, the craze with all
Frenchmen—and, it may be added,
French women—juat now. The supreme
bon ton with the latter is to have
gallop in the Bots, nnd then
jump off tho horso, beforo they cool,
to be pumped on with almost ice-cold
water. A year or two it was to cat
arsenic for health; but, ot course, the
fashions change. Gambetta lias even
taken to lc sport, and, whenever he can
find time, is out with gun nnd dog. All
this Is understood to be a part of his
physioal training for the presidency oi
the republic; he has had his politioal
training long since in many n trying
soene.—London Timet.
ter
^Your prophecies are oertatnbr
Cassandra’s in one respeot, Will, a
least, for I don’t b , elieve * "^yer
them; but if I am erring, and theyevCT
oome&true, why, I’ll co “ e1 ? kev an( i smitten roese ac norco, me
with tho aforesaid wreatn an j. tlirough th(J icy wa u t j mt wa3 g ra <}
you shall teach me to love. j ^ forming round her heart, and,
gain?”
“ jy|
To-Day and To-Horrow.
To-day we gather bright and beauti
ful flowers—to-morrow they are faded
and dead.
To-day a wreath of leaves shades us—
to-morrow sear, and, fallen, they crum
ble beneath our tread.
To-day the earth is covered with a
carpot of green—to- morrow it is brown
wiih the withered grass.
To-dey the vigorous stalk only bends
before the gale—to-morrow, leafless and
sapless, a child may break the brittle
stem.
To-day the ripening fruit and waving
grain—to-morrow “ the land is taking
its rest after toil.”
To-day we hear sweet songsters of
meadows and forests, the buzz and hum
of myriad insects—to-morrow breathe
softly, all nature is hushed and silent.
To-day a stately edifice, complete
in finish and surrounding, attracts the
pa3ser-by—to-morrow a heap of ruins
marks the site.
To-day there are cattle upon a thou
sand hills—to-morrow they fall by
slaughter.
Fashion otee.
Shirred belts, pointed front and back,
are fashionable.
Gobelin tapestry borders are seen upon
many of tho autumn dresses.
Some of tho new French hooded
wraps form a sort of overskirt, but arc
much too complicated to describe.
The monkey, tho parrot and the ele.
plmut, arc the tfirco animals fashion
able for ladies’ cravat pins, in the
French capital just at present.
A great deni of gray is used again for
children’s costumes, but it is invariably
brightened by garnitures oi peacock
blue, flame color or scarlet.
Baby boys until they reach about
eighteen months wear close French
caps of lucks, lace and needlework, the
same precisely |ns those worn by little
girls.
Beautiful mantlo lambrequins aro of
satiu to match curtains and furniture,
adorned with pictures of real artistic
merit, painted in oil or water colors.
Among the novelties of the soason are
quaint twilled silks, with Egyptian de
signs, such as jars, lotus leaves, wad
ing birds, and hieroglyphics brocaded
on their surface.
Jerseys or Veroneso surcoats are being
adopted by fashionable New York
ladies, but can never become popular on
account of their expense. They are
made by special measurement of the
figure and woven to lit.
The Chinese style is very much af-
lected by many Parisian Indies. Tho
dresses of quaint and brightly-hued
Chinese goods are worn more and more
close to the figure, and are decidedly
short, showing the Chineso shoes,
which arc pointed at tho toes. Both
Chineso and Japanese materials are
largely used for indoor robes.
Diroctoire collars and dress puffs of
black velvet richly embroidered in gold
are very stylish and becoming. Some
times an edge of gold lace is added.
They arc also made ot garnet, purple,
wine or dark myrtle green velvet, or
brocaded satin de Lyon, and edged with
a frill of creamy Languedoc lace.
Portia fans are greatly in favor at the
present moment in Paris. They are
made of ostrich and peacock feathers,
and the plumage of the golden or Im-
peyan pheasants. Other feathers are
employed, hut these are the favorites.
The centers ot these fans are semotimes
adorned with heads or wings of small
brilliant-colored birds.
The long cloaks worn last winter are
likely to be in general U9e next season.
There is much to be said in their favor,
but they have some disadvantages.
These cloaks completely cover the dress,
and are consequently very economical,
as old skirts can be worn under th-.m.
This is, however, not an advantageous
fashion for dressmakers, as there is no
demand for handsome walking suits
when these cloaks arc fashionable.
“ Madam, your boy can’t pass at half
fare he’s too large,” said a ticket col
lector of a Scotch train which had been
long detained on the road by the snow.
“He may bo too large now,” replied
the matron; “ but he was small enough
when wo started.” The collector gave
The tinlllotine In France.
A letter from Paris describes bow
tho murderer, Menesclon, was executed
According to custom he was kept in
ignorance of the time fixed for his dentil
until within a few moments of ids exe
cution. He had passed the evening in
company with two jailors, who had lor
some days been bis constant com pan
Ions, in playing cards, and an unusually
bountiful supper which was supplied
to him might have nrousod his suspic
ions, but it did not, nnd nt mir night lie
went to sleep. Shortly niter daybreak
the govornor of tho prison, with the
priest and executioner nnd his assis
tants, entered tho corridor lending to
the coll of the condemned. The jailors,
at a signal, opened tho door of tho cell,
and on first awakening Menesclon,
informed him that his last hour had
come and admitted tho priest. Tho
latter remained with Menesclon for ten
minutes. The governor, tho execu
tioner nnd assistants then entered.
MoiiCsclon was in agony of fear, and it
wins with difficulty that tho executioner
made what is called “the toilet.” cut
ting tho hair ot tho prisoner short, cut
ting oft’ tho collar of his shirt .inn bind
ing Ills hands behind him. This beimi
done, the convict was hurried through
the corridor to the door which opened
upon, the square, where the guillotine
was ready to receive him. The scene at
this moment was torribly s imbre. The
suu was Just rising, but its light was
obscured by dense clouds, and at the
moment the prison door openod a vio
lent storm of thunder and lightning
broke forth. The condemned at this in
stant was overcome with terror and
sank almost to the ground. The as
sistants of tuo executioner had to drag
him to the guillotine, which had been
erected only a few p ft cos from the portal
of the prison. In a moment afterward
the knife had fallen and all was over
Iiorr Maud H. Trotted a Mile in
2:10 8-4.
The following account is given of the
trotting horse Maud S.’s performance at
Chicago, where she beat tho best time
on record: It was nearly six o’clock and
growing dark when Maud S. was
brought on the track. The sky was
cloudy and a strong south wind was
blowing. At the first send off Maud
soon left her feet, and her driver, Bair,
turned her back for a fresh start. She
then trotted to tin starting-point square
and level, and as her driver nodded for
the word quickly lengthened out her
stride, and got to the quarter in thirty-
four seconds. It was then believed im
possible for her to do better than 2:16 or
2:18, but when she got down to the sec
ond quarter at a 2:03 gait, the fastest
quarter on record, there was breathless
interest and expectancy. It was feared,
however, that tho strong head wind
when she turned, would slacken her
speed materially, and render it impoS'
sible to win. Stie kept straight forward,
however, without a break or skip, and
marked the three-quarter of a mile pole
in 1:36. Bair urged her gently with
voice and whip. She responded gamely
and the multitude was breathless ns she
went the final quarter and thundered
down tho homestretch in 2:10|. The
time by quarters was: First, 34:. sec
ond, 301; third, 31$; fourth, 34}. Loud
cheers greeted the mare, her 1 j r ; ver and
manager as they went to 8 t a blo
Heir-Love.
Oh, I oould go through ell lile’e trouble*
singing,
Turning earth’s night to day,
It sell wero not so last around me, olingtng
To all I do or soy.
My very thoughts are selflsli, always building
Mean oastlos in the air;
uso my love for others tor a gilding
To make uiyseU look fair,
fancy all tho world engrossed with judging
My merit or my blame;
Its warmest praise seems an nngrnolouB
grudging
Ol praise which I might olaim.
In youth, or age, by oity, wood or mountain
Self Is forgotten never;
Whor’er wo tread, It gushee like • fountain,
Its waterB flow forever.
Oh, miserable omnipresence, stretching
Over all time end space,
How have I run from thee, yet found thee
reeohlng
The goal In evory race.
Inevitable self) vile Imitation
Of unlvorsal light—
Within our hearts a dreadful usurpation
Ol God’s exclusive right t
ITEMS OF INTEREST.
Tho roofer ha* an elevated occupa
tion, but a hire life is led by the livery
horse.
It is dillioult to become familiar with 1
the wheels of a watch, bo many of them
travel in cog.
“ Bridget, this dust upon the furniture
is intolerable. What shall I do?” “ Do
oa I do, marm; pay no attention to it.”
Never does a man believe so strongly
in the attraction of gravitation as when
he sits down in a chair and finds It
gone.
It was a young honsekerper who set
the onke she had baked for a picnic
out of doors one cold night to be
frosted.
A medical student says ho has never
been able to discover the bone of conten
tion, and desires to know if It is not the
jaw-bone.
Wall-paper manufacturers in Berlin
liave recently commenced the manufac
ture ol leather wall-paper, which is,
made chiefly of sheepskin. Its useful-
ncss is not confined to the papering of
walls, but is also used largely In the up-
holsteiy of sofas and chairs, and unites
the beauty of design with durability.
Dennys, district superintendent of
police In tho Domoh district in tho cen
tral provinces of India, recently cap
tured a cobra, and held it in his right
hand while he pointed out to some
friends the poison fangs. By a sudden
effort tho reptilo darted its head for
ward enough to touch the point of the
index finger of Dennys’ left hand.
Despite every effort to savo his life he
died in three hours.
A man named his dog Gosh, and when
the animal was present at a picnic
where a lot of bees got loose he ran
from one person to another as fast as his
legs could carry him to see what they
wanted of him.
Tile man who would not die in spring
time may be killed by a fall.
m
A Touch „| Mature.
Ladies in the aa bit of climbing on top
of tables or sideboards when a timid
mouse Appears i n a room, might have
tho g rac e to blush for their pusil
lanimity wheri they read of that sailor
on the Vera Cruz. The sea was swarm
ingwithrato driven from the sinking
ship, and* one of the terrified creatures
seized t ne ear of the swimming sailor,
witho ut breaking the skin. “Ididn
have, the heart to shake him off,” says
the soft-hearted fellow, who could even
p'.ty a rat while death was staring him
1 itl the face; “sol let him hold on, but
i 1L0 next wave Washed him away.”
The Washington Monument.
Ono hundred and seventy-five men at
work make tho vicinity of Washington
monument a very busy scene, says a
letter from the national capital. The
Baltimore and Potomac railroad has
finished the switch from long bridge via
Fourteenth street to the base of tho
shaft, and cargoes ol unliown blocks of
marble and granite arrive every day.
At present marble is coming from
Maryland. Seventy-live min aro at
work dressing up the blocks as they
arrive. Superintendent McLaughlin in
tends to increase the loree as soon a
possible to 120, which is the full capacity
of tho cutting sheds. Two entire courses
have been laid, nnd, with good fortune,
by this timo next year 100 feet will be
added to the height of the shaft. The
outer wall of marblo is laid in limit of Tiel
while tho inner wall of granite is held
by hydraulic Portland cement. About
forty-five memorial stones are already
in place on the inner wall, and a number
of others, which now rest in the museum
shed, will be set in as the architect and
monumental secretary think advisable.
At present masons are not at work np
on the top, but the first of next week
work will be beguu again and continued
until the eighteenth of December, when
it is expected the weather will interfere.
A full corps of stonecutters will be em
ployed all winter, so that by spring
enough stone will bo ready to supply the
masons until frosts compels them to
stop.
A Good Deed Rewarded.
Many curious stories are told of the
influence exercised by the Afghan chiefs
over their followers, among the most
striking of which is the following: A
young English subaltern, attached to
the Cabul expedition of 1811 2, rescued
an Afghan pilgrim from some British
soldiers who were handling him
roughly. The pilgrim warmly thanked
his ddiverer, saying with emphasis that
“ an Afghan nover for'ots a good turn
or a bad one.” Some months later, dur
ing the fatal battle of the Kurd-Cabul
pass, our hero saw one of the enemy
point to him repeatedly, and concluded
himself singled out for destruction.
But, to his amazement, he remained un
hurt amid the hottest lire, while his
men were dropping around him like
leaves, those who had molested the pil
grim being the flrst to fall. At length
several ol the enemy disarmed and
dragged him down by main force,
cheoking those who wished to kill hi
by declaring him to be under the pro-
tcotion of their chief. The chief in
question proved to be identical with the
rescued pilgrim—a disguise assumed to
aid his designs against the English—
and the officer, having been hospitably
entertained, was dismissed without van;
sou.
V-