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i «room!-class msttor at the flan- ■*"£•“11? l’ostofflco, April 27, 1880. g^demlUe, Waahlngton Co*nty, G*. fubushhd bt JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. !ol-0 riptioi». .9I.6O per Tear. THE MERCURY. A. J. JERNIGAN, Proprietor DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 91.60 PER ANNUM VOL. I. SANDERSVILLE, GA., NOVEMBER 23, 1880. NO. 34. G , w. H. WHITAKER, DENTIST, Sandersvillo, Ga. Terms Cxsn. Ortloo at his resilience ou Harris Street. April 3, 1830. B. D. EVANS, Attorney at Law, Sandersville, On. April 3, 1880. DR, WM. RAWLINGS, Physician & Surgeon, Sandersville, Ga. Onicc at Sandersville Hotel. April 10, 1880. E. A. SULLIVAN, NOTARY PUBLIC, Sandorsville, Ga. Special attention pi von to collection ol otaiins. . _ __ Office in tlio Court-House. 0. H. ROGERS, Attorney at Law, Saudcrsville, Ga, Prompt attention given to all business. Otllco in northwest room ol Court-House. May 1, 1880. C. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, Sandersville, Ga. Will praclioe in tho State and United Stntoi Courts. Office in Court-nonse. H. N. H0LLIFIELD, Physician & Surgeon, Sunderaville, Ga. Offlos next door to Mrs. Ilajne'a millinery store on Hnnii Street. DR. J. B. ROBERTS, Physician & Surgeon, Saadnsvills, Ga. May he consulted at hit offloe on Haynca ■tract, in the Msaonio Ixxlge building, Irnni 9 am to 1 p m, and Irons S to (pm; during other hours at his residence, on Churah atruet, when not protoHsionally engaged. April] 1880. Watches, Clocks AND JEWELRY UTAIRKD BY JERNIGAN. POSTOFFICE HOURS. 7:00 to 11:30 a. nf, 1:30 to 6:00 p. m. K^A. Sullivan, P. M. Subscribe for the MERCURY, Only 91.60 per annum. PUBLISHED BY JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles, FROM JtRNICAN. (©“-None genuine without our Trade Mark. On hand and for sale, lasses, Etc. Music, THE MERCURY. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. NOTICE. AU communication* intended lor this paper must be aoeompenied with the lull name ol the writer, not necessarily lor publi cation, but as a guarantee of good faith. We are in no way responsible lor the view* tr opinions of oonwapondenta. Potting It Off. lu winter timo I first began To court you, Annie, dear. And breathed, ns lovers only can, Solt nothings in that onr. I dronmod about you halt tho nightf I wooed you hall tho day, In sunny hopes, in visions bright, Tho winter pass’d away. Twas in tho springtime, Annie, dear, You swore to bo mv bride; Tho lattor days of March were here— The hour was eventide. Yon begged a very briel delay— A month, or littloraore; Mut, ero you named the happy day, Tho spring, nlas, was o’er! In summer timo I bravely dared, Dear Annie, to suggest That, if wo thought of getting paired, That season wns tlio boBt. What bliss to linil the merry mom That mado you all my own! Hut while I lingorod, atill forlorn, 1 found tbo Bummer flown, Soptombor brings tlio autumn hero; Tho leavos begin to lull, Full soon upon tlio landscape drear Will winter spread its pall. In gloom I sit, with solemn phiz, A moody single man— Whoso only consolation is That you’re a spinster, Anne! Music. GO TO JERNIGAN FOB BOLINS, ACCORDEONS, BOWS, STRINGS, — r osin boxes, etc. Machine Needles, OIL and SHUTTLES , Macl,ine8 > lor sale. I will r purls of Machines that get and new pieces ere wanted. J. JERNIGAN. worth of United fiscal year n ?»ao tlimpS were sold in fche lif tcen’ a " iucre!lse of about 1879. Tiio Cent " ° 1 ’ nearl y $000,000 over Penalties . reuei ved in the shape of 1879 to v.,‘‘f' nisbed ,r °m 9300,000 in less comm- . 11 snles °f adhesive stamps, 1880 10 ” S ’ wore $123,081,919 in mor etLan"8in ° Ver 1879 of a liu]e man $10,500,000, A SEARCH FOR A SITUATION. Mnrtie Woodbridge—her name was Martha, but no one called her so- lived on the outskirts of a small village. Her fnther was a farmer, but not a prosperous one. Nature, with its frosts and droughts, was always getting the upper lmnd of him, and the crops which he raised were sure to be those whioh brought the lowest price in tho market. The cankerworm stripped his apple trees, and a late frost blighted tho corn and oats. Ho had tho misfortune to buy a cow which introduced tho cattle disease into his farmyard, and Creamer, Spotty and Whitefnce—the three cows ti nt nlways filled their pails the fullest and made the most golden butter— sick ened and died. This was the question which Martie puzzled over from day to day, coming at last to the conclusion that she must try her luck in the big world which she had seen so little of outside of her own small village. She would go to London, and, if possible, find there n situation as gov erness, in which she could at least pro vide for her own support. Her mother let fall a low quiet tears over tho plan, and smiling patiently through them said: " Ask your father.’ Mr. Woidbridgo said ‘ No," at first; but having laid awake all night over his difficulties, he called Martie to him, kissed her solemnly, gave a weary sigh, and with it his consent. So it came to pass that on a cool, crisp Oetober morni lg, when the woods were •it their brightest autumn flush, and the frost had stiffened the grn3s into little silvery blades and spears, and made tho few pale flowers that lingered by the roadside hang their heads, Martio put on her bravest smile,made hopeful, com forting little speeches, kissed them all good-bye at home—the dear old home, so full of joys and troubles—and started for London, to put into that great, hur rying, driving, jostling market the modest wares she had to offer. Martie was eager and full of hope; but, alas! how much eagerness and hope fulness go down to death every day in the frantic rush and scramble for the good things going. Martie, in the great city, looking for work to do, seemed like a quiet little wren trying to pick up a worm or crumb where hawks and vultures were snatching and clawing for plunder. Martie was met the fmoment she stepped from the train by an old friend of the family, who had kindly promised to receivo her at her house, and do what she could to assist her. The next day, early in tho morning, a modest unpre tending little advertisement wa3 sent to one of the daily newspapers. What a stupendous affair it seemed to Martie, and how her unsophisticated little heart beat at the thought of it! Nothing could tiomo of it that day, however; and while she goes out with Mrs. Allen to do a little shopping and stare at a few of the city lions, let us take a look at tho quarters she has fallen into. Mrs. Allen kept a small private Jodg ing house, very select and very genteel. Its inmates were the learned Professor Bigwig and family, from whose presence n certain literary aroma was supposed to pervade the atmosphere; the brilliant Colonel Boreas, hero-according to Ins own account-of numberless battles; a rising young lawyer, with his pretty, blushing girl wife, all fresh and lovely in her new bridal toilet; a rich wtdow and her still richer daughter, who it was said, wns soon to become the help mate of the clerical member of the hous hold, the Rev. Paul Apollosj and hou h not least, the representative of the tine arts, Mr. Raymond, an artist, whoso pictures had won golden praises from critics and connoisseurs, and golden prices from purchasers. ( Mr. Raymond was Marties leftha neighbor at the table. With the fir glance at his dark face, iron-gray hair and mustache, and deep-set gray eyes, she felt rather inclined to b °* fra,d ° f him. When he smiled she liked him better, and thought the gray oyeailooked kind, and she felt very shy and lonesome among these strange faces, and was gad to have him talk a little, tc.her. andtake care that she was provided with all sh wanted. On the second morning after she arrived in tho city Martie’s advertise ment appeared. Mrs. Allen sent a paper to her room before she was out of bed, so that almost as soon as her eyes were open she had begun to hope, and to be afraid, and to Wonder, if out of so many people who she supposed would come to see her, any of them would think well enough ol her to want her services. Martie wns very painstaking with her toilet that morning. 8ho wanted to look her best. She spent twice the usual time over her wavy, gold brown hair; and when she put on her pretty gray dress—the gray dress was for morn ing, and the black silk for afternoon— and fastened the dainty spotless collar and cuffs, she dallied fully five minutes over her little stock of ribbons, trying this one and that, and went down at last to breakfast, looking, to Mr. Ray mond’s artist eyes, which took her in at a glance, like a wild rose just out of a thicket, with the dewy morning bright ness brimming in her bright eyes, tho pink of rose petals in her cheeks and soft, warm, shimmering BUnbcams woven into the ripple of her brown hair. How bis artist fingers longed for canvas and colors, to givo to his beloved St. Agnes that beautiful hair! But the wild rose might as well ’have been blooming in her native thicket. In vain Martie peeped from tho front win dows, and held her breath when tho door-bell rang. No one came to see the gray dress that morning. The black dress fared better. It was called upon; and Martie went down to the parlor, with her heart in her mouth, to meet the grand lady whose carriage and dashing horses she had watched as they drew up in splendid style before the house. But, nlas I Mnrtie was not experienced, and Martie wns too young, and though mndam did not say so, Martio was too pretty, for there was a grown-up son in the family, and to set youth and beauty before him in the shape of a young governness would bo tempting Providence. Madam was verry sorry, hoped this and that, and swept gracefully out to her carriage, while Martie mounted with rather slow step to her little fourth-story room, to watch and wait, and wonder if every body would find her too young. She wns not to blame for it, anyhow, she said to hersolf, trying to coax n ’nugh. No one else came that day, but the next morning there was nn early call for “ the lady who advertised.” Martie was glad sho had on tho gray dress; perhaps she looked older in it. But gray or black was all the same; she was again weighed in the balance and found wanting—not in years this time, but in German; anl as one weary hour after another went by, and no other appli cants appeared, Martie grew heavy hearted. Her advertisement was to appear for three day3. Two had already passed, resulting in disappointment. Mrs. Allen tried to encourage her, but when uight came, and the six o'clock dinner, Martie felt sad and homesick. “ l hope no one has made arrange ments to carry you off just yet," Mr. Raj mond said, as he took a seat beside her at their end of tile long table. ‘‘No," said Martio, “ no one wants me. I’m too young, and I don’t know German." And a big round tear rolled over into her teacup. “ There's no cause for discouragement in that, I assure you,” said Mr. Ray mond . “ I know people who would not find fault with you on either score." Then he went on talking to her in such a pleasant way that she soon be came interested, forgot all her troubles, and tho tear in her teacup, and was as merry as though she had been older and had known German. Mr. Raymond stayed downstairs until ten o’clock, read aloud an old-time fire side story, and kept the ball of conver- sati >n rolling in such pleasant channels that the evening was gone before Martie knew it, and spite of all her disapppoint- ments it had somehow been the pleas antest one she had spent there. The next morning a lady came to see Martie in behalf of her mother-in-law, and Martie engaged to go the following day to see the place and people. There was no poetry about Mrs. Myrick. She was pure, unadulterated; wanted her girls to have a good, strong education— no jimcracks, no furrin language to jabber in. Sho was willing to pay good wages—would give a gov erness $100 a year and her board; but she mustn’t expect much waiting on. They didn’t keep any servants—didn’t need any, a pity ’twould be if two hearty girls like hers couldn’t do their own work. Poor Martie! She would not say no at once, because this was, so far, her only chance; so she promised to give an answer soon, and she went back to her room praying heaven to send her some thing better. She thought her prayer was answered wlien a gentleman called that evening, talked with her about his three little girls, and seemed wall satisfied with the modest account she gave of herself, He was very particular about music however, and would be glad to hear Miss Woodbridge play. Their inter view had taken place in the kindly shel ter of the quiet little reception room; but the piano was in the big parlor, and in there the professor and the Rev. Paul Apollos were discussing earth and heaven- The colonel was stalking about, showing off his martial figure, and the young bride, by the side of her new lord, was holding court in the midst of a lively circle of callers. Shy, bashful Martie I How could she play before all these people? Poor, timid little wren, tbnt had justorept from under the mother wing and flown out of her nest! Gould she show what sweet music she knew how to make with a crowd of listeners? There was none of the airs and graoe of the music-pounding young woman about Martie, as she dropped down upon the piano stool and took a moment’s grace before entering upon the dreadful jordeal. ’Twas no use waiting, but ab, 1 1 the gentleman would but sit down I Why yriU he stadd beside her and watch her poor, frightened hngert ns they trip and stumble, give a wild jump for a distant note and miBS it, make a dive for onooctave and lignt on another, and at last lose their way altogether and go on chasing each other up and down the key note. Martie[knows the piece she is trying to play as well as she k nows her name, but it flies out of her head and slips away from [her fingers, and she endB at laBt with a finale of her own improvising, feeling her hair stand straight upon her head'as she does it. Tho gentleman was " much obliged," t ft almost immediately, and Martie, in a state of grief and mortification, was rushing through tho hall, exclaiming, with a sob, os she covered her face with her handB, "What shall, I doP” when she wns suddenly stopped at the foot of the stairs by Mr. Raymond. “ My dear child,” said he, “ don’t take it so much to heart. I’ve heard you play that piece before, and thought how well you did it; but, of course, you couldn’t play with all those peoplo staring and listening. The man was a brute to ask you to do it.’’ "Oh, no; it is I who am such a sim pleton," snld Martie; “ but you are very good to me;’’ and she hurried upstairs, longing to get where nobody could see her, but leeling comforted a little, even then, by the tender sympathy whioh hod done its besttoeonBolo her. Once in her own room the floodgates were opened, and Martie cried over what she called her disgraceful failure until she had succeeded in getting up a raging headache. Then she went to bed with tbo determination of writing in the morning to Mrs. Myrick, informing tha‘ lady tbat she was ready to accept her offer and enter upon tho " eddication" of her daughters. But before she had time to carry her resolution into effect Mrs. Myrick herself appeared, having made up her mind that Martie would not do for them. She hadn’t been brought up in their ways, and was like to bo too purtickler. Thus [vanished all hopes of success from advertising. Mrs. Allen next ad vised that Martie should try one of the educational agencies in the city, and an application was accordingly made. Then followed more days of anxious waiting and of hopes deferred, resulting at last in a visit and n generous oftVr from a lady who won Martie’s luart at the outset with her pleasant face and winning ways, and[hcr gentle, motherly talk about the little boys atd the two little girls at home for whom she wanted 1 teacher and companion. But, nlas! that home lay hundreds of miles away. It seemed to Martie like going to the ends ol the earth. She had twenty-four hours in whicli to decide; spent half the timo in wavering between yes and no- bet ween the courage to go and the home sickness which crept over her at the very thought of it. Then scolding her self for a genuine coward, she made up her mind that go she must, and go she would. “ What?" exclaimed Mr. Raymond, in a tone of surprise. “ Have you really made up your mind to go so far from home and all your friends ?” “ Yes, I must go,” said Martie, with a little quiver in her voice. "Please don’t say anything to discourage me.” “ 1 wouldn’t for the world,” returned Mr. Raymond, "only that.I know of a situation nearer home which you can have if you will accept it. Come into the reception-room, and I will tell you about it.” Martie wns all eagerness now, llow delightful if, after ail, she should not be obliged to make an exile of herself, “ It is a companion, not a teacher tbat is wanted,” Mr. Raymond continued. Would you be willing to take a situa tion as companion?” Martie’s face fell a little, but she answered: " I should be very glad to tako such a situation, if I could fill it. Do you think I could?” “ I’m sure you could.” “ Do you know the person who wants a companion?" “ Yes." “ Who is it?" " Myself.” “ Yourselfl How—what—” The exact question which Martie in tended asking just here must be left to the imagination, since she did not seem to be clear about it herself. Mr. Raymond continued: “ Yes; it is I, Martie I want you for my companion—my wife.” The gray eyes twinkled as he asked. "Will you take the Situation?” An hour later Mrs. Allen entered the room, exclaiming, “ Bless my soul!” as she stumbled upon an unmistakable pair of lovers. “ My dear Mrs. Allen,” said Mr. Ray mond, taking his blushing "compan ion” by the hand, and leading her to the astonished old lady, "I know you will be glad to hear that Martie will uo be able to make an engagement with that old lady; she has already made one with me.’’ BURNING FOUR TEARS. A ■laming Coal Mina and a Hundred Miners at Work In a Vain tlnuer the Fire. A recent letter from Scranton, Pa-, to the New York Herald, says: It is more than four years ago since what is known as the upper vein of the Butler colliery, at Pittston, a short distance from this city, was discovered to be on fire. At first it created but little alarm, as it was thought that the fire would exhaust itself as soon as ithad consumed the out-croppings or exposed portions of the anthracite on the edges of tho t-nve hole in which it broke out, but it re quired only a short time to Bhow tho fallacy of this theory. It mado rapid headway through tho worked-out por tions of the colliery, where it wbb fed by wooden propB and pillars of coal, and the rush of air through tlio numerous cave j holes caused it to gleam and roar like a furnace. The sulphur flames emitted through] the cave holes fur nished a picturesque.scene at night, and gave tho placo the appearance ol a volcano. At length the company be came alarmed, and their alarm was in creased by a notice from tlio Pennsyl vania Coal company, whose property ad- ioins the Butler colliery, and who noti fied the proprietors of the burning mine that they would be held to account for any damage done by the spread of the fire. The Butler Goal company then secured the services of Mr. Conrad, a practical engineer, to devise a plan for extinguishing the flames and preventing the threatened disaster. After various unsueoessful experi ments Mr. Conrad became convinced that the only effective way of arresting the progress of the fire was by isolation —namely, digging a deep trenoh around the entire area of the fire and sinking it from the surface below the burning vein. The work was undertaken and carried on at an enormous cost. In some places the ditch had to be constructed as deep as from eighty to 100 feet and corre spondingly wide. It was a great task. At one point, owing to the great eleva tion, the place had to be tunneled through for about 100 yards, and it was feared even then, owing to the rapid progress that the fire was making in that direction, that it would secure n lodgment among the rocks and " bony” coal overhead and cross the tunnel to (.be workings beyond. It is; still burn ing fiercely at this point, but it is hoped that the lire will not extend outside tho limits of the isolated area. Just now the greatest danger is that encountered by tbo miners who are working the second vein, directly under the burning mine. The heat is so in tense that the men are compelled to work in these chambers almost naked, and the sulphurous nature of the atmos phere has prostrated many of their number within the last year, while sev eral have been compelled to quit and seek work elsewhere. A few months ago the water from tho roof came down upon them boiling hot, and after Mine Inspector Jones visited the scene he caused a suspension of operations nud hod an air shaft sunk outside the burn ing area so[as to introduce a fresh sup ply of air to the workmen. But even this is ineffectual now, owing to the ter- ible heat overhead, and again the sul phur and caloric are unbearable. Men are in peril of theii lives every limn they fire a shot, and in some places it is impossible to blast because of the sul phur and great volumes of dangerous gases generated from above. The vein of coal being worked at present is so in tensely hot at some places as to be un bearable to the touch, and frequently the workmen arc compelled to let the coal lie for hours before they can land it on the cars, owing to.its blistering heat. The situation is really terrible, and even if some sudden and awful calamity does not ensue, it will cost many men their lives if they work there much longer. It is like working in an oven. Nothing but their extreme pov erty could possibly induce the miners and laborers to accept such labor. The coal they mine comes up hot out of the colliery. Alligators’ Nests. These nests resemble haycocks. They are four feet high, and five in diameter at their bases, being constructed with grass and heritage. First, they deposit one layer of eggs on a floor of mortar, and having covered this with a stratum of mud herbage eight inches thick, lay another set of eggs upon that, and so on to the top, there being commonly from 160 to 200 eggs in a nest. With their tails they then beat down round the dense grass and reeds, five feet high, to prevent the approach of unseen enemies. The female watches her eggs until they are hatched by the heat of the sun, and then takes her brood under her own care, defending them and providing for their subsistence. Doctor Lutzember, of New Orleans, told the writer that ho once paoked up one of these nests with the eggs in a box for the museum of St. Petersburg, but he was recommendod before he closed it to see tbat there was no danger of the eggs being hatched on the voyage. On opening one a young alligator walked out, and he was soon followed by the rest, about 100, which he led in his house, where they went up and downstairs, whining and barking like young puppies. Next to New York, Massachusetts has more commercial travelers than any other State in the Union. FARE, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD. Care In Managing sheen. American wool growers or shepherds have yet much to learn in rognrd to the management of their flocks. For ex ample, the sheep in Silesia are nover exposed to muoli rain- Shelter and shade are provided for them. Nor are they exposed to dust, for that is known to be injurious to the fleece. The great est possible care is taken in the breeding. Men of experience are employed to go from farm to farm to examine the sheep and select the best rams that can be ‘ound. The rams are closely examined as to their fleece-bearing properties, and all but the very best are sold off. The whole economy of the sheep farm is as perfect as intelligence and industry can make it. > The Soil for Fruit Tree*. There is a necessity for having the land for fruit trees well drained. A cool soil, especially for pears, is very suitable, but no water must bo allowed to stagnate around tho roots. Mrs. Quin says that on stiff, tenacious clay soils, with clay subsoils, underdraining and deep plowing will be found essen tial to rid the soil of stagnant water, in order to get the conditions which will promote a healthy and vigorous root growth. But on good farming land, such as will produce, with ordinary treatment, 160 to 200 bushels oi potato s to the aore, or sixty or seventy bushels of shelled corn, it would be n useless waste of money to spend the amount nocessary to undordr&in the soil bclbre planting pears. A dry, hilly place will be bettor than a low one, with no good drainage. 8ur.cea.ful Poultry Hailing. In raising poultry or stook, it should be the aim of every one to keep it healthy and improve it. You can do it very easily by adopting some systematic rules. These may bo Bummed up in brief as follows: 1. Construct your house good and warm, so as to avoid damp floors, and afford a flood of (sunlight. Sunshine is better than medicine. 2. Provide a dusting and scratching place, whore you can bury wheat and corn, and thus induoe the fowls to nke needful exercise. 3. Provide yourself with some good, healthy ohiekens, none to be over three or four years old, giving one cock to every twelve hens. 4. Give plenty of Irosh air at all times of the year, especially in summer. 6. Give plenty of fresh water t uily, and never nllow tho fowls to go thirsty. 6. Feed them systematically two or three times a day, and scatter the food so they can’t eat too [fast or without proper exercise. Do not feed more titan they will cat up clean, or they will get tired of that kind of feed. 7. Givo them a variety both of dry and cooked food; a mixture of cooked meal and vegetables is an excellent thing for their morning meal. 8. Give soft feed in the morning, and the whole grain nt night, oxccpt a little wheat or cracked corn placed in the scratching place during the day. 9 Above all things keep tho hen house clean and well ventilated. 10. Do not crowd loo many in one house. If you do, look out for disease. 11. Use carbolic powder in dusting bins occasionally to destroy lice. 12. Wash your roosts and bottom of liying nests with whitewash once a week in summer and once a month in winter. 13. Let the old and young have as large a range as possible—tiie larger the better. 14. Don’t breed too many kinds of fowls at the same time, unless you are going into tho business. Three or four will keep your hands full. 15. Introduce new blood into your stock every year or so, by either buying a cockerel or sittings of eggs from some reliable breeder. 16. In buying birds or eggs, go to some reliable breeder who has his repu tation at stake. You m <y have to pay a little more for binls, but you can de pend on what you get. Culls are noi cheap at any price. 17. Save the best birds for next year’s breeding, and send tho others to market. In shipping fancy poultry to market send it dressed. 18. And, above all tilings, read tho poultry department of some good, re. liable paper. You will gather more from it than you can from any poultry book. By paying attention to the above, you cannot fail to succeed and make poultry keeping as profitable as thousnnds have done all over the United States.— Rural Nebraska. Ilou.ehold Hints. In washing silk handkerchiefs was-h in water in which the best white castile soap has been lathered . Then snap be tween your fingers until nearly dry, fold and press under a weight. Never iron. Zincs may be scoured with great economy of time and strength by using either glycerine or creosote mixed vflth a little diluted sulphuric acid. To restore morocco, varnish with the white of an egg and apply with a sponge. If when bread is taken from the oven the loaves'are turned topside down in the hot tins, and are allowed to stand a few minutes the crust {will be tender and will cut easily. The best way to fry iish is to first fry some slices of salt pork, then roll the pieces of fish in fine Indian meal and ry in the pork gravy. About three slices of pork for a medium-sized fish Whitefish needs less fat than almost any other. The Bells. Hark! the bridal bolls ate sailing, << Come one, oomo all!” Hark! tbo words so gently tailing, ‘•Como one, oomo nil!” And the lamps are brightly burning And tlio gnests on tiptoe turning At tlio marriage boll. Hark! tbo old church bell is chiming, n Come ono, oomo all!” Hark! its tones so .weotly rhyming, " Come ono, oome all!” At tho break of morn ’tls pooling, From yon lofty nook ’tis stealing Tlio bright 8nbbath oall. Hark! the bell ol time is ringing, " Come one, oome kill” Oh, the thoughts thoso sod notes bringing, <' Come one, oomo all!'’ Ever through some cold heart wonding, Kver o’or .onto poor soul ponding, With its wondrous thrall. Hark! Iho muffled bell is tolling, “ Intor thy dead!” Hark! thoso sadaon’d notes are rolling, " Jntor thy dead!” And before the altar lying. Is a lorm that oneo was dying, Now with death is wed. — S. S, Troy, In Nation (Md.) Ledger. IIUM0R0U8. A grate singer—The tea-kettle. The debor’s tree—The will-owe. The astonomor’s pastime—Shooting stars. Is a clothing store a coterie, n pantry or a vestry? Wonder in what sort-of a vehicle the man rode who was driven frantic? There is a romance in figures. A young man met a girl, ler, married her, and took her on a wedding 2er. Consistency may be a jewel, as has been reported; but no capitalist has yet been found willing to [loan money on it. How Bbould a romantic miller address his lady love? In tho language of flours, to be sure. Why are pianos the noblest of manu factured articles P Because they are up right, grand and square. A Philadelphia man who detected a piece of bark in his sausngo visited the butcher’s shop to know wliut had be come of the rest of the dog. When a man s iys “ I hear a noise,” it probably never occurs to him that there is nothing in this wide world that any body can hear but a noise. An editor out West was in prison for libeling a justice of the peace, and when he departed the jailor asked him to give the prison a puff. Thero Are No Birds in Last Year’s Nest” is the title of a song. Probably not. If it were equally sure that there are no rats in last year’s rat-holes, the public mind would ;[bc more at rest.— Philadelphia Timet. The ladies wear their hatB very large this year and their bonnets very small. As usual, they wear their bonnets on the street and their hats at the theater. —New Haven Register. During one month this summer the Philadelphia mint coined $600,060, and how they all got past us without our seeing one of them is what astonishes 1. —Burlington Hawkcye. On a homeward bound Charleston car n jolly-looking Irishman was saluted witli the remark: “ Tim, yer iiouse was blown away.” "Deed, thin.it isn’t,’ he answered, “ for I have the kay in my pocket-” How They Capture Hyenas. The following mode of tying hyenas in their dens, os practiced in Afghan istan, is given by Arthur Connolly in his " Overland Journal," in the words of an Afghan chief, the Shirkaree Synd Daoud. When you have tracked the beast to his den, you take a rope with two slip knots upon it, in your right hand, and with your left holding a felt cloak before you, you go boldly but quietly in. The animal does not know tlio nature of the danger and therefore retires to the back of his den but you may nlways tell where is head is by the glare of his eyes. You keep on moving gradually toward him on your knees, and when you are within distance throw the cloak over Iris head, close with him and .take care he does not free himself. The beast is so frightened that he cowers back, and though he may bite the felt, he cannot turn his neck round to hurt you; so you quietly feel for his forelegs, slip the knots over them, and . then, with one strong pull, draw them tight up to the back of his neck and tie them .there. The beast is now your own, and you can do what you like witti him. We generally take those we catch home to the kraal, and hunt them on the plain with bridles in their mouths, that our dogs may be taught not to fear the brutes when they meet them wild.” Hyenas are also taken alive by the Arabs by a very similar method, except that a wooden gag is used instead of a felt cloak. The similarity in the mode of capture in two such distant countries as are Algeria, and Afghanistan, and by two races so different, is remarkable From the faut that the Afghans consider that the[feat requires great presence of mind, and no instance being given o( a man having died of a bite received in a clumsy attempt, we may infer that the Afghan hyena is more powerful or more ferocious than his African oongeuor.