Newspaper Page Text
The Sylyania Telephone.
C. H. MEDLOCK, Editor a*d Pumlwheh.
VOL. II.
Poet and Farmer.
A poet well known in the city,
Went into the country one time,
With his pocket quite barren of money,
But his head overflowing with rhyme.
He wrote ot the sweet winds ot summer,
He sang of the farmer’s grand life,
Of his easy and free independence
Away from the city’s fierce stvite.
The hay time had come, and the poet—
Out into the meadows went he;
And while the tanned farmers were mowing,
He sat him down under a tree.
Then out came his pencil and note-book,
While poetry gleamed in his eye;
And he sang ol the farmers before him,
Wtio mowed ’neath the blue summer sky.
And his verses were pretty—quite pretty;
But it worried the farmer to see
<Wfcilo he was to work like a beaver)
The poet beneath a green tree.
And his swath lengthened and lengthened.
He nearod the poet’s retreat,
And wearied with scythe and with sunshine
He threw himselt down at his feet. •>
** What is it you’re doin’ now, Mister ?
A writin’ some po’try, I s’pose!
Wonld ye mind reelin’ out a tew verses,
While I set here a dryin’ my close ?”
And the poet, with fine frenzy burning,
Read what he had written that day,
Of the “farmer who merrily moweth
In the fragrance of newly-cut hay.”
And when he had finished his poem,
He smiled on the farmer so bland,
And said to him, “How do yon like it?
I'm sure that you must understand.”
And the larmer—lie leaned on his elbow,
And said to the poet so blithe,
" It’s good, but you’d never a writ it
If you’d bean swingin’ the scythe!”
— H. R. Dorr, in Burlington Hawkeye.
AFTER LONG I EARS,
“ What is this, Burt?”
“ That is the mortgage of an estate
•■ailed the Derby Place, Mr. Faxon,
foreclosed more than a year, I believe.”
“ Well, it’s what I have been looking
for. I will take charge of the papers and
attend to the matter soon. Down East,
isn’t it?”
" Yes, sir. |
Mr. Faxon put the papers into the!
breast pocket of his coat, came down j
the office stairs, an 1 stepped into the ,
glittering, purple-lined phaeton, beside .
his wife.
The delicate Arabian, Mrs. Faxon’s
horse, sped away out of the city con
fines, and soon tosted his jetty mane
aiong the open roads, lined with gar
deas, ornate cottages and villas.
“Going away again to-morrow,
dear?” asked Mrs. Faxon, suddenly lift
higher fair countenance, as she inter
rupted her husband. “ You seem to be
away all the time lately. Take me with
you."
“ Not this time,,v lolet.”
And Violet Faxon’s husband fell into
a fit of abstraction, from which her
smartest chatter failed to arouse him.
They came at last to the Taxon man
sion, grand and simple, and fulfilling its
promise of a beautiful interior.
Amid the white lace and .
crimson
ssilk of her chamber, Violet was brush
ling out her long, fair hair, when her
husband paused in the doorway, and
looked at her sharply. Then he came
slowly across the room, and lifting the
oval face in hi3 hand, looked closely at
the roseate cheek, pearly ear and curved
lashes.
11 What is it?” asked Violet, “a
freckle ?”
“No,” lie answered, smiling faintly
and strolling across tht chamber. “You
looked like my sister then—that was
all.”
“ Your sister, dear? You never told
me about her.” s id Violet.
“No,” he answered, and said ' no |
iuor.\
Mr. Faxon borenoresembiauee to his
delicate p irician wife, A little less
thirty, dark, strongly built, active, vig
orous, he impressed one as a strong
character. If, with a remarkably rich
conn 1 nags of countenance, there were
some lines of dissipation, there was
also a certain evidence of strong good
sense and a look oi deep experience.
He was up and away at daybreak the
next morning. An early train bore him
eastward, and nine o’clock found him
landed : t a little station called Sea
brook.
Tiie dismal little building wa3 set in
a field of clover, around which a road
wound away among the mounds of ver
dure.
After a '.glance around, Mr. Faxon
look this road and walked slowly along.
The robins hopped across it, the bobo
links sang in the trees over it. The un
assuming white clover among the grass
perfumed the cool morning air.
He passed only a few houses, but he
observed them attentively. They were
all old and humble farmhouses. Ap •
patently this property which had by
the foreclosure of a mortgage, fallen to
Mr. Faxon, was not situated in a very
rich or enterprising neighborhood.
When he had walked nearly a mile,
SYLYANIA, GEOBGIA, TUESDAY, JULY 27, 1880.
he came to a green dooryard, among
wide spread apple trees, with a well
sweep among them, and a residence,
though plain, more pretentious and
comfortable than the others.
There war a narrow, well-worn path
among the short grass and buttercups
to the porch, where a bitter sweet
wined its strong arms. In a corner,
under the verdure, was an armchair,'
with a book on the seat, and a cane ly
sing across it—a gnarled, twisted cane
of hickory,that Mr. Faxon looked twice
at. The book he saw was a Bible.
There was an old lady with a sweet,
faded face, and snowy cap strings, tied
under her double chin, knitting at a
window near by, but hu quiet step had
not disturbed her.
He had put his hand to the knocker;
he t >ok it down again as he caught
sight of this placid face. He stood thSVe
quite still for several minutes. A gray
cat came and rubbed against his leg.
Some apple blossoms, floating down,
touched his cheek.
At length the gentle lips moved.
“Father,” said the mild old lady,
“ you had best He down and take a
rest.”
“ Such old people! and I have come
to take their home away,” said Mr.
Faxon.
There was strone Dain in his dark face
now as ilonr he stood looking down at * the
, ’
’ I ’ ^rCLrsideid A he cfnrmAri ’ ‘ walSd the
wyunoeith , pp i tr s.
When Mr. I axon came back fiom his .
brief stroll, iris presence, as he crossed
the yard, was observed.
A white-haired old man, who had
come to the open door and taken up the
hickory stick, tuined back hastily, with
a few hurried woids and the aged
woman dropped her knitting and rose
up, with a paleness dropping over her
face -
But, while . Mr. Faxon hesitated on
the porch aga-n, both came to the door.
Sad,s tartlcd faces they both had, but
they were civiL Their greeting was
kindly, as to a friend.
My name is r axon, ^ said the visitor.
7 1 ~L We know _ sir,” . said the
who you be,
Old man—‘we know who you be,
•.hough we never seed ye before. Will
you come in s’
Mr. Faxon ssepped across the white
hall-floor into the quaint, cool and com
fortable sitting-room.
The rough blue paper, like chintz, on
the wa.l, some nonesty” and dried
grasses in opaque white vases upon
the high, narrow mantelpiece, uncon
sciously struck liis eye. while betook a
seat, his mind occupied with other
thoughts.
“ We’ve been long expectin’you, sir,”
said the old lady.
Her hands, crossed on the spotless
gingham apron upon her lap, trembled a
little, but tbe serenity of her manner
was not changed.
But the old man’s eyes swam in _ tears.
He rested both hands on the hickory
stick betwee n his knees, as he sat in a
comer, and bending liis forehead upon
them, partially hid his face.
“ Yes, yes! but it comes sort o’ sud
den now,” said the old man.
Mr. Faxson sat m a speechless sym
pathy.
After <1 little pause, old Mr. Derby
looked up, and met his eyes,
“Of course, it’s all right, sir. We
don’t question your right to the place,
but we’ve been sort of unfortunate. I
think so—don’t you, mother?”
The old lady layjbaek among the
cushions of the dimity-covered chair.
She had a look of physical weakness
Mr. Faxson had not observed before.
She did not speak.
Her husband looked at her attentively.
A sudden flush went over h.s thin face
“It’s not for myself I care—it’s her!
he cried, striking Ins cane violently upon ;
the floor. “ She helped earn this place, j
when she was young. There was no
kind o’ work but what them hands you
see lyin’ so weary nowin her lap, sir,
was put to. She was up early an’ late,
always a-doin’, a-doin’ fur me and the
children. God never made a better wife
an’ mother. An’ now, sir, it’s hard, it’s
hard, that she should be turned out of
her home in her old age!”
“ Hush, hush, Daniel!” said the old
lady, softly. “The Lord will provide;
and it’s not long we have to stay in this
world, you know.”
“ Will you tell me the History of the
place, Mr. Derby?” asked Mr. Faxon.
“ How did you come to lose it?”
“ It was mortgaged, sir,” said the old
man at last, “ to pay the boys’ college
bills. You see, we had three children—
Selwyn, Roscoe and little Annie.
Mother and I didn’t have an eddication,
but we said all along that our children
should have; an’ tliey went to the dis-,
trie’ school an’ then the academy—an
by-and-bye we fitted them off for college.
Bright, smart boys they were—every
body said my boys had good parts,
though Roc was always a little wild. I
think mother, there, loved him a little
belter for that. He was more trouble,
an’ she clung to him closer because
others blamed him at times. Annie, his
%ter, was always a-pleadin’, too, for
“ONWARD AND UPWARD.”
Roc. He played truant, and he whipped
the boys who told on him; he was al
ways puttin’ his bones in peril, an’ twice
he was half drowned—yet, in spite of all,
he was ready for college when Selwyn
was, though Selwju wa« steady as a
clock. Mother an’ I had been scrapin’
together for years, and at last we fitted
them off.
“We went on den yin’ ourselves, for
it was just the one hope of our lives to
have the boys graduate with all the
honors; an’ time went on, but many of
the crops failed, and there came disap
pointment here and dissapointment
there, an’ failing to get together the
money the boys sent for—especially Roo
—we mortgaged the farm for five hun
dred dollars.
“They were nearly through, you see,
an’ mother and Annie thought that
Selwyn might be principal of - the acad
emy or something when he came home,
an’ Roc would be a lawyer, ’cause he
could argufy an’ speak so smart in pub
lie, an’ the money would be paid back
easy.
“ But from time to time there came
rumors I didn’t like, as to how Roscoe
was up to his olu wild ways, and at last
^ came like a thunderbolt Roc was
suspended and had run away to foreign
parts. Well, I pass over that, sir; I
tried not t0 be to ° hard on the boy.
Then Selwyn home. He had
graduated well, but he had a cough,
He didn’t complain, but he was thin an’
pale, an’ soon mother an’ I saw that the
son we had meant to rely on was an in
valid upon our hands The thought
struck me dumb. But mother was all
en( , rgy We (raveled here with him, we
traveled there. We saw all the noted
doctors East and West. We borrowed
uiore money on the old place, and we
never paid any back. I had made one
or two payments at first, butthey were
but a drop in the bucket. At last we
brought Selwyn home to die.”
“Don’t Daniel!” said the mother,
so ftly.
“ H e wants to hear the rest. There’s
only a litt]e but it’s no better,
Annie was like Selwvn—good an’ pa
tient; delicate-like, too. We didn’t
j t a t first, but her cheeks grew thin
an’too red; a cough she had had from
^ c hild grew harder, and though the
best doctor we could get came early an’
’ a t» it was wily a ysaj after.
died before we laid Annie down amoulf
the snows . Thank ye, sir, for your
pity! Moth er an’ I have shed most of
our tears.”
Mr. Faxom put liis cambric handker
chief back into liis pocket.
“ Your other son, Roscoe, Mr. Derbv
-did he never come home?”
“Never! It’s nigh eight years since
we have seen Roo He knew he d i sa p
pointed us; but that was nothin’—was
it, mother?”
j never think head.” of it,” said Mrs.
p er by, ’ shaking _T her “Perhaps—
j don i t ka 0 W W e took the wrong course
w j t h R 0 c. He was restless an’active.
He was wild, but he was lovin’—”
jj er vo i ce broke.
“ Mrs. Derby,” said Mr. Faxon, “I
,- md 1 know something of your story al
rea( j yi y 0 ur son, Roscoe Derby, who
ran away a t nineteen years old, is prob
ably living( and j t may come i n my way
to obtain some informatson of him for
you.”
Tne old people had risen eagerly from
their seats; but he went on, quickly:
“Meanwhile, he at no inconvenience
regarding your stay here in your old
home. Your right to occupy it is un
questioned in my mind, and let me asr
sure you that you will never, during
your lifetime be required to go hence.
There is the mortgage ”—ho placed some
papers on the table—“ the Derby place
is your own.”
He rose, putting them gently back as
f j pressed toward him, trying to ex
their gratitude .
“ No _ no tbanks , Believe me you owe
nnthinoi”
„ He took , Ins hat. The old man who .
voiceless wrung Ins band Mr
I axon turned to Mrs. Derby, and tak-
1,1 = ber sort wrinkled fingers in his strong
palm, bent low and kissed .hem. Then
be turned toward the door, but in a mo
ment be bad come back,
“Mother-father!” he said, “Ican
not go, for I know you have forgiven
me!’’
And the next instant the strong man
was kneeling with his head on his
mother’s knee.
“ After long years, mother,” he said,
as she stroked his temples with fond
fingers. I am but twenty-eight years
old, but sorrow for my early faults has
brought some gray hairs about my
temples.”
“ And you are not Mr. Faxon, after
all,'Roc?" said the father, with a puzzled
smile.
“Yes, I am, dear father. Five years
ago I had the good fortune to gain the
goor’-wili oi one of the wealthiest Amer
ican shipping merchants then in Lon
don. He gave me a good position, and
I decided to return home with him, and
served faithfully in his employ, until
just before his death, when, having
formed an engagement with his only
daughter, he gave his consent to our
marriage, with the proviso that I would
take his name and carry on his inteiests
exactly as they had been. To this I con
sented, for in spite of settled habits and
ideas, I felt an alien and alone; but
motherl have a good wife and the best
of sons—a little fellow two years old,
named Derby. Does that please you?”
All, indeed! What loving old woman
is not pleased with her grandchild?
Soon the house was graced by the pres
ence of Violet Faxon and the lovely boy,
whom grandlather could not praise
enough and grandmother could not
fondle enough; yet it was sweeter, per
haps, to Roscoe Faxon to hear his
mother’s voice whisper:
“ I like your wife; and do you know,
dear, I think she is very like Annie?”
CURRENT NOTES.
It is getting to be a fine state of things
when one way to tell a bad bill from a
good one is because in the counterfeit
the engraving is much superior to the
workmanship on the genuine bill. The
clerks in the United States treasury de
partment recently came across a $100
counterfeit that in make-up and finish
was equal to the real article, and in many
respects was greatly superior. We shall
bave to be careful not to to lake in those
$100 bills heedlessly.
—
R has been officially decided that a
railroad company or steamboat corpora
tihh has no right to detain or imprison
a passenger for refusing or neglecting to
P«y his fare. The Metropolitan Ele
vated Railroad company detained a pas
sengev, because at the end of his journey
he had lost his ticket and had tried to
force himself past the gate. The court
awarded him $100 damages. A Harvard
student, last summer, going to Newport"
bought a through ticket to New York
for a dollar, the fare to Newport being
$L6o. I be officers of the boat kept him
on board by force at Newport until lie
had paid the extra sixty cents. The
court adjudged him $75 damages for
false imprisonment. Another passen
«? er lost his ticket during the night, and
was not allowed to depart next morn
ing until he had left his watch in pawn
for his ticket. The court gave him $50.
--
In a recent lecture on the possibility
°* foretelling earthquakes, Professor
Palmieri expressed the belief that by
meansof seismographic stations, tele
graphically dbuneoted, for registering
and reporting preliminary earth trem
biings, it would be possible to foretell
earthquakes just as tempests are now
foretold, and to issue warnings to
threatened districts about three days in
advance. He did not expect to live to
see such a system in operation, but he
hoped and in a measure expected that
posterity would be benefited by its uni
versal and permanent establishment.
Last January a California fruit dealer
took 200 fresh lemons fresh from the
tree and buried them iD the ground, to
see how they would seep. Four months
after he dug them up and found ihem in
perfect preservation, as sound and fresh
and nice as the day they were buried.
Every one knows how potatoes keep
when properly covered by earth.
Apples would doubtless do equally well;
and possibly the same method may an
swer for grapes and other more perisha
ble fruit. It would not cost much to
try a lew experiments in this direction,
and success could not fail to be advan -
tageous.
The Medical limes and Gazelle men
tions the case of a young man who,
while traveling from Paris to Lyons, lit
a match by scratching it with his
thumb nail, and a piece of the incandes
cent phosphorus penetrated under the
nail and made a slight burn, to which
he paid no attention. But after an hour
the pain became intense, the thumb
swelled, then the hand, and next the
forearm. He was obliged to alight at
a station on the journey and send for a
medical man, who declared that imrne.
diate amputation of the arm was neces
sary. The patient insisted on postpon
ing the operation for a few hours until
the arrival of his father, for whom he
had telegraphed. Before the latter,
however, could reach liis son, it was
too late; the poisonous matter had
gained the arm, then the shoulder, and
any operation became impossible. He
died in great agony in only twenty
seven hours after the burn. The case
shows the danger of handling phos
phorus in the manner described.
An insect called neen, of the cocus
species, has been discovexed in the dis
trict of Yucatan, Central America,
which is capable of producing a species
of india rubber. From the bodie tol
neens an oil exudes which has a hi gh
reputation for its curative properties.
Exposed to heat it volatilizes, leaving a
tough wax, which, when biirnt, pro
duces a thick, semi-fluid mass, like a
solution of india rubber.
Castle Garden, in New York city, is
like a vast caravansary, where multi
tudes find rude but satisfactory accom
modations. At night it affords a strik
ing prospect, being finely illuminated.
Artificial Ice.
The artificial manufacture of ice was
begun at Augusta, Georgia, in dune last,
by a process which experience has
proved to be both efficient and eco
nomical. This proooss'is repletp with
interesting details, but may be described
in general terms as follows:
In the first place, the water for mak
ing the ice is obtained from a well over
forty feet deep, and is pumped up by a
large pamp into a cooler. Here the
water is cooled by means of pipes run
ning through the cooler, greatly reduced
in temperature, and after filtration, is
conducted down into cans thirty inches
long and twelve square. These cans,
480 in number, all fit into a large tank,
through which pipes containing freezing
mixture run. This freezing mixture is
composed chiefly of ammonia, and is
prepared in peculiar retorts by a special
process. The mixture which runs
through these pipes, aud renders them
so intensely cold as' to freeze the water
in close proximity, does not come in
contact with the water, and cannot do
so. The pipes are tight and durable,
and the joints are strongly made, with
a peculiar patent, preventing the escape
oi gas at all. After the water in the
cans is frozen, these cans are lifted out
and allowed to stand on end for ten
minutes, when they are slowly with
drawn, leaving each one a pure, solid
block of ice of twelve pounds.
Besides the company controlling the
above process, and which acted as a
valuable conservator to the trade last
year, Augusta has another concern en
gaged in artificial ice manufacture,
which is turning out the crystal blocks
at the rate of twelve tons per day
Therefore the people of that city are not
assailed with fears regarding an ice
famine; and the cry of the ice man has
no dominion over them.
Ai other points South, notably New
Orleans, the manufacture of “mock
iee” has received considerable attention,
and a certain brewery in the Crescent
city lias recently introduced a novel ap
paratus for tiie manufacture of ice water
which comprehends he essential priu
ciples of ice-making machinery. The
tank in which the water is cooled con
i a j n3 3,000 feet of one-inch pipe, in
w bich pure ammonieal gas, condensed
by compression into a liquid* is admit-!
ted. The latent .heat 511 <
transforms it into a vapor, when it nb
sorbs the heat in the water, and is drawn
from t be pipes by pumps, and is again I
compressed into the condensing pipes, i
From the condensing pipes it is again
admitted into the pipes in the cooling i
tank, where it again becomes a v>por i
and absorbs the latent heat un‘il the 1
water is reduced to thirty-three or thir
ty-four degrees Fahrenheit. One hun
dred and twenty-six pounds of ammoni
cal gas is used in charging the apparatus,
and this amount will last indefinitely.
But there is especial congratulation in
the fact that Northern cities, as well as
their Southern sisters, are agitating the
question of artificial ice. Philadelphia
and San Francisco have already been
moving in this direction, and an ice
making machine is being operated in
New York, with very successful result,
it is claimed. —Commercial Bulletin.
Swallows Eating Bees.
The fo flowing letter appears in the
columns ot a Schleswig-Holstein api
cultural journal: The question whether
swallows are enemies to bees is'general
ly met by a decided negative. But my
experiences of the present year con
vinced me of the contrary, at all events
under certain circumstances, j in former
years I encouraged swallows to build
under my roof, where they were held
as sacred «s the stork. One day, when
the nests were full of good-sized young
ones, whose never-ceasing hunger the
parent birds were doing their best to
satisfy, the idea struck me to examine
the contents of one of their stomachs.
It contained nothing but bees ! That
my friendship for my long-honored
guests somewhat cooled after this is
hardly to be wondered at, as I am an
enthusiastic bee-master. On another
occasion, then last summer, I saw the
swallows waging war against the bees
with a ferocity almost incredible. In
the dull cold weather just then prevail
ing there were scarcely any insects in
the air, and I noticed how the swallows
hovered about by dozens close to the
hives, and dashed upon the bees as they
returned home. So eager were they in
the pursuit, that stone-throw ing,shoot
ing, etc., did not deter them in the least
Suddenly, however, a change came o’er
the scene, for at the first glimpse of sun
shine the bees in their turn became the
aggressors,and attacked the swallows so
savagely that the latter flew away utter
ing cries of pain, and not unfrequently
fell to the ground with six >r eight bees
clinging fast to them, alter turning end
less somersaults in the air, in their en
deavors to shake off their tormentors.
A man in Chicago makes a living
as a searcher for lost things. He
goes to places of public resort, such r.s
parks where free concerts have been
given, before daylight every morning,
looking for accidentally dropped articles
TERMS— »1 60 per Teak.
NO. 1.
Esther.
She stood upon the threshold of the court,
Her fair young form attired in royal robes,
While, through the flashing of a thousand
gems,
Shone out the beauty that had won a king.
A moment there she paused with bended hea 1,
As otic whose startled memory, aroused
By instant vision of a sadden ueatb,
Passes in qniekjreview forgotten years.
Once more a girl she roamed through s nny
fields
With comrades light at heart and gay as Bhe;
Or, as the gathering shades oi evening tell,
She watched the purple shadows in the west,
And heard, from lum whose cate so well
supplied
Parental love, the story ol her race,
The ancient splendors of Jerusalem,
And the o’erwatching care ol Israel’s God.
And now to die! Was it tor thi} that she
Was crowned ? For this her beauty touchei
the king?
Better have lived a humble Hebrew maid
Than perish thus. Then sounded in her ears
Again these words: “ Who knoweth whether
thou
Art to the kingdom come tor such a time
As this ?” Proudly she lilted up her heal
And, whispering “ It 1 die, I die,” passed on
Into the presence chamber ol the king.
— U'allei Learned , in Good Company.
MISCELLANEOUS.
A man who won’t take off his hat to
himself once in a while in summer
must be a cold-blooded wretch.
“ Never mistake perspiration for in
spiration,” said an old minister to a
young pastor just being ordained.
The man who fell out of his bunk on
the steamboat, explained that his black
ened eye was a berth mark.
In the Persian gulf last year a million
and a halt dollars’ worth of pearls were
found, and thirty divers were appropri
ated by the sharks.
When a boy has a gold watch pre
sented to him he will cheerfully travel
two miles to regulate it in the presence
of his enemies.
A family of young ladies who reside
hereaboutssooftenentertaintheircom
pany on the front stoop that they have
gained the title of the step-sisters.
There are 825 boys actively employed
as messengers by the twenty-four sta
H> the American District Tri<j4
graph eumpanv has in New J’ortc cny.
Smrthers believes is untu -ky nuar
bers. For instance, he says, it’s un
luckv to have thirteen persons at table
when there is only dinner enough for
ten
~
„., ,, , r . , , h •
* iHrbault Jvlin Doascs a ot 11 v a .
’ "” =
genuine Vermont Morgan mare, forty
six year's old, in perfect health, and be
ing used daily. She dropped a foal
when forty.
There is a ship now sailing out of
Holland that was built in 1568. The
history of a vessel that has seen over
Lhree centuries of navigation must be an
interesting one.
It is all nonsense that eats cannot live
at the bight of 8,000 feet above the sea.
At 12,000 feet they feel so airy that they
can dodge brickbats throw from three
different directions at once.
The canine species is endowed with
instinct, and the human with reason,
but when the weather gets hot it makes
no difference—the dog, as well as the
man, changes his coat and pants.
Probably the oldest paid teacher of
youth in the world is the German gov
erment schoolmaster of Heringen, in
the province ot Limburg, one Abraham
Levi Dickstein, who recently completed
the sixtli year of his activity as a
pedagogue and the hundred and fourth
of his age.
The best engraved portrait ever made
of the Jate Governor W illiam Allen, of
Ohio, was the one generally used in his
last campaign in that State. It was cut
on a saw blade in the Ohio penitentiary,
by Charles Ulrich, a convict. Ulrich is
one of the most skillful engravers in the
country, but he has used his ability
mainly in the work of counterfeiting.
Having plenty of time to spare in
prison, he made this picture from a pho
tograph.
The story of Cinderella and her slip
per is older than history. The annals
of the world do not go back far enough
to tell us from whence this and many
another legend first came.
THE GHOST TO HAMLET.
Bet you two dollars and a ball
I am thy lather’s ghost,
Doomed for a time to walk the night,
Until I can got put on the day loree,
And the lonl crimes done in my days ot poli
tics
Are burnt and purged away.
But that I am forbid, I could a tale unfold
Whose lightest word would weigh as heavy
As a height car; freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes stick oat like ink bottles;
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon a brand new paint brush
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears ol flesh and blood: List, list, oh,
list!
1 intend to sell it to a newspaper for forty dol
lars.
— Petroleum World.