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THE mercury.
M aecond- olsss matter at the Sanden-
__ M aooona- oiw »• »ua i
Entered Mj* postofflo<s April 37,1880.
gandersriUe, WMWngtoa Gouty, Go.
rulhid r
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SANDERSVILLE, GA., OCTOBER 11. 1881.
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onico in northwest wing of Court-house.
May 4, 1880,
C. C. BROWN,
Attorney at Law,
Sandorsville, Ga,
,,"P r ? c , Uon . in the Rtato and United Statos
owrlfl, Ortieo in Court-liouso.
H. N. HOLLIFIELD,
^ frysician and. Surgeon,
Sandorsvillo, Ga.
' >lo?5‘, C n u° tl - ( l°° r t0 Mrs - Bftyno’* millinery
<wro on Harris Stroot.
G.W. Hi WHITAKER,
dentist,
SANDERSVILLE, GA.
lr -nM8 Oasn.
OC'so at his Residonco, on Harris Stroet.
A l>nl 3, 1880.
B. D. EVANS,
Attorney at Law,
SANDERSVILLE, GA.
A PnI 3, 1880.
millions op
PLANTS!
5 ablmvo *2.00 and
t’clery 12.50 per 1000
>>y ex press. Larger
quantities at still low-
orrates. Send for free
jelmiiars. Address,
Ar.V Uri ' s ^ Kni * ® cs t Medicine crer Made.
<3°£ Hop*, Buchu, Man*
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luakoA ii tlvopi o,,urtle8 of other Bitters,
R 0tt u \ u ‘ l ' 6l ' MtW!l ;Blood Purifier, Liver
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tyo°fu, 1 .T h ° 80 olmploymentscauBo irrr^ulari*
quin a « i c,s ° r urinary organs, or who ro-
HoDiiitf Ap r > t , tlzet^L ^Ionic and mild Stimulant,
icatin^ 8 aroiltva !V Uuble » without Intox*
Sr r"w"atHTod'!!J 5roUp f^^elings or symptoms
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tbrour l ,al( l for a ca.se they will not
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»■ Uaeai “lur K o tliom\‘ouM Hop B
""n-mh., ™*° U, “ m V“"‘ a Hop B
runirua“‘‘f" f » noV,vUe. drugged
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be A n S£: w or
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N^? ,GT80l<a RY^U
118,000 \V °,^ of 0 WEBS TER, has
4600 NFirvvAn™® Engravings,
Biop-n and Meanings,
oeraphicaX Dictionary
hmi? V6r 6 ?00 Uamea.
_ ,, * Gleaner’* Carol.
Gold are the skies abovo,
Gold is the oarth boneath,
As g )ltl will glow tho grovo,
Wlion autumn’s chillior breath
Shall warn the earth to think itsolf
How swift must wano Ub garnorod polf,
now swift come nakednoss and death I
Hut summer still is here,
Our brows with kiss to greet
As golden lies the hero
Beneath our lagging feet,
Buoh as we hold not in our hands,
Tho willing tithe of gratoful lands,
For God’s good gifts oblation meet.
There’s gold upon the clouds,
A glimmerfrom Heaven’s streets;
Rod gold th& brown earth shronds,
So oarth with Hoavon meots;
And so they Join in all our lives,
Tolling mon, and loving wives,
And bairn that quiokly laughs and greets I
Bug for the sunset glow I
Sing for tho warm Bwcot earth I
As ovoning breezos blow
Abroad our quiet mirth !
Earth is mother whate’or befall,
Hoaven bonds tendorly over all
To fend despair and foar of dearth I
THE CURATE’S COAT.
When the Reverend Arthur Leslie
entered on the curacy of Bransley, that
prettiest of villages was much exer
cised in its mind as to which extrome
his “ views ” might tend.
And it found Mr. Leslie had no views
at all beyond those of doing his ap
pointed work in a most simple, earnest
and quiot fashion, as of a man who
oould novor work hard enough,
Socially, the curate was not, at first,
generally popular. He had a manner
almost shy and repellant, and seemed
to have little to say.
The great man of Bransley was the
squire—Mr. Meldon, of tho Grauge.
His estate was a moderate one of size,
but rich in soil and splendid timber.
Miss Meldon was a handsome girl,
with violet eyes, luxuriant golden hair,
a sunny temper and charming laugh,
and a passionate fondnoss for outdoor
exeroisos.
She certainly had a dislike for those
of her sex who cluster round curates,
and she was too candid to pretend an
interest in many schemes propounded
under their auspices. Once or twice she
had met Arthur Leslie at her father’s
table,'and tho superb young boauty had
dismissed him from her mind after
noting that ho seemed a shy, awkward
man, plain of features, but with strangely
expressive dark ejes. He, on his part,
had taken little notice of the girl, ex
cept onee to glance somewhat critically
at her as he hoard her propounding
some of hor eccentric thoories to Gerald
Warloy, hor cousin and flancoo, a hand
some, iusouoiaut and slightly supercili
ous man, who held a siuecure govern
ment post.
Flora was vory fond of her cousin; he
had many graceful and manly accom
plishments, and a good deal of fascina
tion in his manner; and ho, on his part,
loved his pretty cousin—next to him
self. Their engagement met with uni
versal family approval.
The curate, glancing on the pair on
the occasion mentioned, was struck by
the thought that, endowed as both were
with nature’s gifts, the woman was in
finitely the nobler of tho two, with all
her imperfections.
“Though,” he murmured to himself,
walking homeward, “ she is by no means
what a helpmate should be, as far as I
can judge, but what have I to do with
such speculations ?” he continued, half-
sadly.
Yet, nevertheless,lit was no less sad
than true, that the Rev. Arthur Leslie
began to find the vision of that beauti
ful mobilet face oontiuually coming be
fore bis mind at odd seasons.
He was shocked when this fact was
forced upon his mind.
“ In iove,” he groaned at night, when,
sitting up in the small hours in his
humble lodgings at Mrs. Tibb’s, who
adored him for his manifold kindness,
he wrestled with his aching heart.
"In love, and with another man’s be
trothed 1 And, as if that were not bad
enough, with a brilliant beauty who is
a gilded princess in her own sphere, and
has no notion, I suppose, that the ugly,
shabby curate could venture to think
twice about her. Oh, shame, shame!
Well, it must be hidden and fought
down forever. My work I that ought to
fill my soul and ‘heart;" and his Btem
face was set into marble calm.
“So, never one of those round him
guessing his seoret, Leslie went about
his duty tenderly and assiduously as of
yore, unoonscious as ever of his self-
abnegation and true humanity. No dif
ference was seen in his manner save
that, on one pretext or another, he re
fused all invitations to the squire’s,
mnoh to the latter’s discontent.
Fljira hardly noticed his absence. If
there was any man whom she really ad
mired it was her handsome traveled ac
complished cousin. Content in his so
ciety, she bestowed no thought on any
one else.
It chanoed one day that the pair can
tering up a green lane—Flora flushed
and radiant, Gerald bronzed and beard
ed, matohing his bay hunter in thor
oughbred wpeot—met the ourate wali
ng
in the midst of a throng of happy
boys, with whom he had been playing
oricket. His eyes darkened with ir
repressible pain, and a shadow swept
over his face as ho raised his hat. Flora
Meldon saw the look, momentary as it
was, and pitied the ourate as having
some seoret sorrow; but not being so
consoious of her own charms as some of
her compeers, who hated hor “fast
ways" as they called her love for horses
and dogs, she did not attribute the look
to the right oause, But it haunted her
memory,
Mrs. Tibb entered with the curate’s
frugal supper. She cast a sympathetic
glance at the weary face, as she stood
at tho window looking into the summer
twilight.
"Mr. Dalton, sir, called, aud told me
to remind you of tho meeting to-morrow
night.”
Leslie remembered. Yes, it was a
parish mooting, yearly hold, at which
he had to preside and was well attended.
“ I s’pose, sir," Mrs. Tibb continued,
hesitating and looking at tho rusty old
coat which was the curate’s every-day
wear, “ I’d better send your best coat
down to Thaoket in the morning to re
pair; the sleeve’s ripped where you
caught it getting honeysucklos for May
—wilful little thing.”
“ My coat sleovc,” said Leslie, coming
with a start out of his sad reverie. “Yes,
certainly, Mrs. Tibb. You can take
away tho tray, I’m not hungry, as I’m
rather tired," * ‘
“ Doar heart, sir I but you don’t eat
near enough; and no wonder if you aro
tired, soeing nil you do,” murmured tho
sympathizing Mrs. Tibb, as she reluct
antly removod the tray.
“ I don’t do half enough,” said the
curate, when alone. " If I did more,
perhaps, I should eradicate this wickod
folly, I wonder," he added, abruptly,
" if he really knows tho splendid quali
ties hidden in her being. But, mca
maxima culpa,” and ho resolutely turned
to his examination papers, writing on
until long after tho church clock chimed
midnight.
Tho morniDg came with a cool breeze
rustling through tho myna'' old-fash
ioned villago flowors. The curate, after
a broken night, had an apology for a
breakfast—ho was always careless about
ood—and went off. Mrs. Tibb cleared
tho table, sighing ovor hor lodger’s
small appetite, and Jimmy, her eldest
hope, was sent with the best coat to
Thacket, the tailor, who, as not unus
ual, had gone off with some boon com
panions for the clay, and would not bn
fit to return to pull his own coat off,
muoli less to mefld anycne elso’s.
Mrs. Tibb eat down and lamented ;
there was tho mooting, in tho evening,
with numerous critical and foreign
(to Bransley) attendants, and it was an
absolute necessity, for the credit of tho
cloth and tho parish, that the clorgy-
man should have a decent coat on. She
couldn’t mend it. Shg was "allers u
botcher.” Mrs. Tibb felt distracted,
and was contemplating tho coat de
spairingly when a silvery voice called
her, aud starting up she saw the squire’s
beautiful daughter holdiug a little
basket.
‘Here,’’ Mrs. Tibb," said she, “aro
the eggs that I promised you from my
Hapsburgs. Put them under your
Dorking hen, and you’ll havo a brood
which will lay all the year round, and
then poor Mr. Leslie—I know he’s out;
for I saw him cross the meadows—can
havo now laid eggs every morning.
Mrs. Tibb, with profuse thanks be-
moaned the curate’s scant appetite, told
Miss Meldon two or three instances of
his simple heroism and unpretending
charity, whioh made the young lady
look at her with serious eyes as one
hearing unsuspected truths, and then
explained her present perplexity about
the coat.
“I will help you, Mrs. Tibb,”
smiled Flora; “ though people don’t
know it, I can repair wonderfully.
Give me the coat,” and the young lady,
seating herself in Mrs. Tibb’s old-fash
ioned arm-chair, made a charming pic
ture as she deftly repaired the dam
aged sleeve, Mrs. Tibb standing by
with open-mouthed wonder.
"There,” said Flora, as she gave it
back—“I’m proud of my work. Mind
you don’t tell who did it,” she added,
with a faint blush; and Mrs. Tibb vowed
she wouldn’t, as she curtsied the young
lady out of the pretty cottage.
Of course she did, within half an
hour, and to the very last man she
should have done so. Gerald. Warley’
coming in with botanical specimens the
squire asked to leavo for tho curate,
found Mrs. Tibb in ecstacies over the
coat, and she, thinking Flora’s praises
could not be too loudly sounded, told
her visitor.
His face was immobile white in her
presence, but, as ho went down the gar
den to the road, he frowned savagely.
To his shallow and conventional nature,
this act of (Flora’s was a dire offense—
1 setting all the fool’stongues wagging,’
he said, cutting at the hedges with his
stick—and then, turning a comer, he
came on his fiancee, and notwithstand
ing her charming completeness, told
her/his mind in a tone and wanner
quite new to the high spirited girl, who
at first opened her eyes in quiet astonish
ment, nnd v then, resenting the authora-
tive manner, and seeing with a clearness
of perception’inherent in her how arti
fleial was the nature she had deemed so
genuine, retorted proudly on him, and
at last, taking off her ring, gave it to
him, at the same time canceling their
engagement.
Mr. Warley lost his usual composure
and raved. Ultimately this struck him
as ridioulous in n public road, and he
sulkily followed Flora to the house,
where, sho had told everything to her
father, who—of course—yielded to his
petted daughter, sympathized with his
nephew, out agreed that the best thing
ho could do was to return to London,
which he did. Flora, unseen, saw him
go, and thought of—the coat.
Meanwhile tho curate had returned
and heard tho story, from Mrs. Tibb.
His color changed, and he stood look
ing at the rent wbiob Flora’s deft Angora
had repaired, as if he could read a story
there. Suddenly he threw the coat down
with a murmur of self-reproaob, and
tried to forget it. But it was a hard
task, and the meeting that night had a
vory inefficient chairman, much to the
villago astonishment and their rival
neighbor’s seoret exultation.
But the summor days went on, and
Arthur Leslie went about his parish the
same kind and tender pastor, gentle,
strong and clear of judgment. But the
strain told on him. Now and then, with
a joy lie could not hide, guilty as ho
felt it, ho saw the beautiful girl whom
ho was doomed to madly love. Tho
ocstacy of seeing hor and hearing her
voile, only aggravated so stern a judge
of himself, his wrong. Departure was
tho only remedy. With wrenching pain
this he resolved on, and told the squire,
not giving his reasons.
Tho next day he saw Flora in tho vil
lage, and each flushed crimson on soe
ing the other. Then tho girl, like all
her sex, growing composed first, asked
him why, us all were sorry to hear he
was going to resign his curaoy.
" I will toll yon,” ho said, vory palo.
“ Such wrong deserves plain speaking.
I have been mad enough to love you,
you engaged to another man."
Thoro wa3 silenco. At last, looking
up, Leslie saw her face suffused by a
charming blush, nnd u shy, happy light
in her eyes.
“But I I’m not engaged,” she mur
mured, vory low.
The sagacious reader can] guess the
explanations and arrangements which
followed, and that the onrate—soon a
reotor—ever had an affection for that
happy coat.
Office UalltllnuH In Xeir York.
You can imagine, says a New York
gentleman, how great the investment is
to put a large office building up in New
York city when you oompute tho rents
of tho offices in tho Mills building,
which havo to be thrown away for a pe
riod of ono year while the building is
being constructed. At the corner of
Broad street and Exchange place was a
plain briok building of a sbaekely
character, crowed with offices. Yet tho
smallest office brought from $400 to
$500 a year. Probably the combined
offices in the different small buildings
which Mr. Mills is supplanting with his
ono huge building produce a rental of
$75,000 a year. This is one item in the
cost of putting up a great building in
the business quarter of Now York. Ho
bad to tear down from the corner to the
quicksand, evacuate all his rents, pur
chase additional property at a tremen
dous figure, and then bring in pile-
drivers, as if be was building out in the
sea, and ram the quioksand, if there
were any, level, and then put in his
cement and beton. Not until next
spring, as I understand, will this great
edifice be finished, and it will, perhaps,
cost with the ground $2,600,000. Of
course those who take offices afterward
will have to pay the back rent insen
sibly. Another enormous building is
going up opposite the Bowling Green,
at tho foot of Broadway, for the com
bined produce, grain and cotton ex
changes. This will be the principal
edifice of its kind in the world.
1 BELJro.VJCO’S,’
SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
Ordinary combustible substances may
be set on fire by nitric acid.
Coagulation serves in nature the pur
pose of stopping wounds. Salt pre
vents it.
A new celluloid is said to be obtained
from well peeled potatoes, treated with
a solution of sulphuric acid.
The raw materials of whioh dynamite
is made aro sulphuric acid, saltpeter,
glycerine and infusorial earth.
It has been suggested that noxious
insects may be driven away by cultivat
ing the fungi that are destructive to
them.
It is reported that a thick vein of a
substanoo yielding fifty per cent, of pure
paraffine has been discovered at Hawkes
Bay, New Zealand. The deposit is said
to be of great extent and to be worth
about $200 a ton.
Our earth is moving through space
with a yelooity of pine miles a seoond,
Mlorlp. of a Celebrated Hp.tn unit cur.
Of tho late Lorenzo Delmonioo, the
host known restaurant keeper in the
United States, the New York Herald, in
its obituary notice, says ;
Head and front of the entiro mechan
ism, controlling all the business of all
the houses, was Lorenzo Delmonioo,
with a capital of $500,000 invested,
with an expenditure of over $1,000,000
a year, and always with his balance on
the right side of the ledger. Siro and
Charles were like tho sonB of the
Biblical woman, one on his right, the
othor on his left, forming a trio of res
taurationary excellence to whom New
York is largely indebted. When Alexis
was hero, he being a sailor, it was
doomed the correct thing to dine him.
The jolly tars of the New York Yacht
club got together and resolved to in
vite him to thoir quarter deck, sling
the hammock of courtesy in their
fo’caetl’, and overwhelm him with the
binnacle of their hospitality. They
did it. He came, they ate, and the en
tertainment in honor of the Russian
grand duke was one of tho most ele
gant of its kind* gotten up in Delmon-
ioo’s best style. For $5,000 Delmonioo
oonld mako fifty peoplo quite gastro-
nomioally comfortable. Wlion Charles
Dickens was hero he made his home
further up town, but was a frequent vis
itor at the Fourteenth street house. He
was a heavy eater and a heavier drinkei.
Two bottlos of champagne at lunch
were a mere trifle to him, but bis favor
ite gargle was brandy. “Give mo a
thimbleful of brandy," said Dickons,
as be was about driving to the Lecture
Hall, A bottle and a tumbler were
produced, and considering the size of
the “ thimble” and the fact that it was
literally “full," it may be said that he
took a tolerably good drink. The Press
olnb of Now York gave Dickens a din
ner there, prosidod ovor by Horace
Greeley, and tbo spooob of tbo oocasion
wasmado by Henry J. Raymond. All
tho press nobs wore there, and a very
jovial evening was passed. When Gen
eral Grant was general he breakfasted
in the smaller room with lloraoo Greo-
iey, and subsequently A. T. Stewart,
Edwards Pie'rrepont nnd othor dis
interested patriots gave him a grand
dinner and reception. At the reception,
which was very high-toned, there was a
dais at one side of the saloon on which
tho general stood to welcome those
who crowded in to do him honor.
On one occasion Mr. Delmonioo
talked freely with a representative of
the Herald, who said:
“ What wages do you pay, Mr. Del-
monico ?’’
1 Ten thousand dollars and more tho
first of every month."
'What rent?”
“ All told $100,000 a year. You see
besides our houses we have three great
wine cellars downtown. We get wines
and liquors by tho 100, 200, 300 casks
at a time, and can buy direct much
cheaper than any dealers here can afford
to sell ns.”
“ Do hard times affect you any ?”
“Yes, indeed, and mainly in wines.
I remember the time when I walked
through the rooms and saw from one to
three bottles ot wine on every tablo.
Now if wo hear a cork pop we turn to
see where it is—and then it’s generally
a bottle of Bass.”
“Some of your orders are silly, I
suppose V"
“ Yes, indeed. We often give dinners
that cost $100 a head. Why, sometimes
the flowers for each cost $20, and I have
paid as high as $20 for eaoh and every
bill of fare I You know the mottoes
they have for the ladies. Well, there
are people who pay as high as $10 each
for those things, So you see it does
not take long to run up to $100 in that
way.’’
Delmonioo got up many a dinner for
A. T. Stewart, 1 but no matter what
temptations wore prepared for the
guest the invariable dish for the host
was a simple chop, with possibly a
plate of chicken broth. Mr. Stewart
dined many noted people, among them
often General Grant. When the late
Andy Johnson was swinging around tho
circle he was festively dined at Del-
monico’s, and after dinner held a re
ception. He was full of fun, at all
events, and kept his friends in roars of
merriment. After they were all gono
he called to his servant to “ Come to
bed.” Mr. Delmonioo told the Presi
dent that after his servant had undressed
him the waiter would show him his
room. “No, he won’t,” said Andy;
“I’ll undress myself, but that boy
sleeps in my room and nowhere else to
night, and that I tell you.” That end
ed it, and the colored attendant shared
with his master the best room in the
house. Among the regular patrons is
counted “Sorosis.” Not that Sorosis
spends any considerable amount of
money at its little lunches or even at
its annual festivity; but Sorosis is a
feature of any place it makes its home.
College boys like the hospitality of
Delmonico’s, and at cortain seasons of
tho year many a hardened ear in the
dining-room below is pierced* by the
jolly shouts of the undergraduates up-
stairs, and »wy a hardened heart is
touched [by the (memory of days and
nights—mainly nights—gone by, when
the same songs and the same hurrah-
boys choruses wore the regular tiling
with them at Harvard, Yale or Prince
ton.
The late Colonel Fisk was not a regu
lar patron of Delmonico’a. He went
further uptown, but now and' then lie
spilled over from bis bowl of' bounty
there. On odo occasion, at half-past
4 p. m., he called at tho office.
“ Charlie," said he, “ I wont a tiptop
stand-np innoh, with flowers and all
that sort of thing, served in the Erie
building for 150 men at half-past six.”
" That's two hours from now.”
“ Well, a great deol can be dono iu
two hours.”
“ All right, oolonel, I’ll do it, but it
will be an expensive job ior you.”
“ Who said anything about the cost?
You do it and I’ll pay for it.”
Of course the lunch was served aud
equally of course tho $1,500 Jbill was
paid.
At another time, when Fisk jvas work
ing up the Ninth regiment, a ball wa
given at the Aoademv and Fisk was
anxious that Delmonioo should furnish
the suppor. They declined on the
ground that there was no profit in it.
"How muoli guarantee do you want?”
said Jim, “A thousand dollars,” said
Delmonioo. “All right," replied Fisk,
“ I’ll take five hundred supper tickets,”
and he did.
Tho Ring potentates never favored
Delmonioo’s uptown house much, but
spent thousands of dollars in the Cham
bers stroet place, rotor B. Sweeney
used to go there when he wished to be
quiet nnd by himself.
When Tweed's daughter was to be
married the old man called on Dol-
monico two months in advance, and
without mentioning terms, simply said:
" I want a supper, good one, for my
daughter’s wedding; 600 people. Good
day.” The day after tho supper was
served ho called and paid for it.
“Do you keep your peoplo a long
time?" Mr. Delmonioo was once asked.
“Some of them.”
"The cooks—how about thorn?”
" Well, I pay the present head cook
$4,000 a year; his predecessor. $0,000.
The other cooks get from $15 to $30 a
week.”
“What do you give tho head waiter?’
"Fifteen hundred dollars and his
boaid and lodging. The table waiters
get $30 a month, and average $00iu fees.
I wanted to transfer one of them from
tho saloon to the bar, raising him from
$30 to $00, but bo wouldn’t go because
ho mado $90 whore he was.”
Anelent Election«.
As liithorto, so ngain, we must go
back to tbo beginning to take up the
clew. Out of that earliest stage of the
savage horde in which there is no su
premacy beyond that of the man whose
strength, or courage, or cunning, gives
him predomiuauco, the first step is to
the praotioe of election—deliberate
choico of a leader in war. About the
conducting of elections in rudo tribes
travelers aro silent; probably the meth
ods used are various. But we have ac
counts of elections as they were made
by European peoples during early
times. In ancient Scandinavia the ebiof
of a province, chosen by the assembled
people, was thereupon “elevated amid
tho clash of arms and tbo shouts of the
multitude;” and among the anoient
Germans he was carried on (a shield.
Recalling, as this does, the chairing of
a newly-elected member of parliament
up to reoent times, aud reminding us
that originally among ourselves eleotion
was by show of hands, we are taught
that the ohoiee of a representative was
onee identical with the ohoiee of a
chief. Our house of commons had its
roots in local gatherings like those in
which uncivilized tribes select their
head warriors.
Besides conscious selection, thore
ooeurs among rude peoples selection
by lot. Tbo Samoans, for instance, by
spinning a coeoanut, which on coming
to rest points to one of the surrounding
persons, thereby single him out. Early
historic races supply illustrations; as
the Hebrews in tho affair of Saul and
Jonathan, and as the Homeric Greeks
when fixing on a champion to fight
with Hector. In both these last cases
there was a belief in supernatural in
fluence ; the lot was supposed to bo
divinely determined. And probably at
the outset, choice by lot for political
purposes among the Athenians, and for
military purposes among the Romans,
as also iu later times the use of tho lot
for choosing deputies in some of the
Italian republics, and in Spain (as in
Leon during the twelfth century), was
influenced by a kindred belief; though
doubtless the desire to give equal
chances to rioli and poor, or else to as
sign without dispute a mission which
was onerous or dangerous, entered into
the motive or was even predominant.
Here, however, the fact to be noted is
that this mode of choice, which plays a
part in representation, may also be
traced back to the usages of primitive
people.—Herbert Spencer.
Down on young men—The fudjmeii-
larj mustache.
COMICALITIES.
Pride should be called summer, be
cause it goeth before a fall.
The prize-fighter peels before he
strikes, but the bell does not peal until
It is struok.
When a young man is alone with hia
nest girl he is generally supposed to be
“holding bis own."
Seine no more, as the statutes re
marked, and the little fishes waggled
their taila in applause. ,
" I've been laying for you !” as the
indignant hen remarked to the farmer’s
wife who had put a china egg In her
nest.
A fellow who was sentenced to eight
years in prison, remarked to his friends,
that all great men, at one time or another,
mnst serv) the State.
An sosthetio writer speaks of a fair
yonng girl “ vanishing like the dew
before the morning sun." This ia
shockingly vulgar. In plain language
it means that she dried up.
Said the night watchman, when about
dnsk he was invited to drink a onp of
coffeo: “ No, thank you. Ooffee keeps
me awake all night.” And then he saw
his blunder and looked very ombar-
rassed and tried to explain it. But it
was no use.
“ I hate the vile, pestiferous fly
That will not let me lie
When I would takojmy soothing nap;
I squirm about and try to slap
That fly,
But I
But slap my face iu vaiu attempt
To hit tho wretob.”
Kate Shelley’s Itrare Ilceil.
The newspapers have been filled
with the story of the brave deed of
KateShelloy, aged fifteen, living with
her mother in a little shantjr on the
east bank of the Des Moines river, in
Iowa, near tho traok of the Northwestern
railway.
One night daring the summer there
was a fearful storm, Tho mother and
daughter heard a crash, not nnlike the
sound of lightning splitting a tree
The girl, recollecting that her father, a
railroad employe, had been killed by an
accident, lightod a lantern, and went
ont in the wind and rain to see if aught
was the matter. Hor light was blown
out, bnt she soon found a wrecked
train, and all but ono man had shared
the fate of her father. She knew that
another train would bo along in
about half an hour, and was liable to
run on to the debris of tho first. Tho
nearest telegraph station was one mile
distant and over a bridge 400 feet in
length. Another station was four miles
in tho opposito direction. Tho only
hope of averting a second disaster was
to give notico at the station over tho
bridge. On kor hands and knees a
great part of the railway bridge wbb
crossed, and with wet clothes and
bleeding limbs she was liable at any
moment to fall through into the torrent
below, or bo too late to avert d second
railway wreok. 8ho reached tho station
in time to telegraph and stop tbp coming
trsih, but from exposure aud fright she
fainted then nnd there.
The Northwestern railway, of coarse
could spare a trifle from a good divi
dend, as somo recompense to this poor
girl. Tho public, of course, would be
gratoful; she bad saved so many lives.
It would be a reflection on all if tho
little heroine was forgotten. She is
still in abject poverty with her mother,
on the banks of tho Des Moines river, in
Boone county, Iowa, unappreciated,
neglected, forgotten.—Ghicagd Exprtsi
■ ''
'
A Queer Superstition.
I observed a broad silver ring on the
middle finger of the left hand of a
man, formerly of Ohudleigh, now of
Torquay, a painter by trade, who was
working at my house at the time. In
reply to my questions he stated that he
was twenty-seven years of age, and had
worn the ring about seven years for the
purpose of protecting himself from fits,
to which he had long been subject. The
ring, he said, was made of nine six
pences, given to him for the purpose by
nine unmariried females, all, as was nec
essary, of the parish of Ohudleigh,
where he resided at the time.
The sixpences were given in re
sponse to his question: “Will you give
me a sixpence ?’’ he being careful not to
say, “Will you please to give me e six
pence ?” and careful also jo avoid say
ing “Thank you,” on the receipt of the
coin—either of whioh would have viti
ated the charm. He took the nine coins
to an ordinary jeweler, who made them
into a ring, but it was necessary for the
success of the oharm that he should re
ceive nothing for his labor. The givers
and the receiver o . the sixpences mnst
be of different sexes, and t^ ring must
be worn on the middle finger of the
left hand. It had not quite kept avray
tho fits, bnt they had been much less
frequent than they were before he wore
t.—Notes and Queries.
Since hoops again came into fashion
they are alluded to as domestic cir
cles. It is not known who perpetrated
the pun, he is no donbt some ren
egade journalist who should be exiled
from the bustle qf ljfq to the T«y OU^
•hirts pi oiyiliantJoB.