Newspaper Page Text
VOL. IV.
~CHAPTER:
TRION R. A. CHAPTER.
No. 19, meats at Trion on the Friday
night before the third Sunday in April,
May, June, July, August, and Septem
ber and on Saturday night before the
third Sunday in October, Novemper,
December, January, Feb-uary, and
March. 0. C. BRYAN, 11. P.
G. B. MYERS. Seet’y.
ATTORNEYS:
J. M. Robertson,
Attorney at Law,
and Solicitor in Chancery.
CtIATTANOOUA, - - TENN.
PTIACTICR in Clwnrnrjr, Circuit :’n»l Supreme
‘Jourt* m' TemiessKM and U- Dial-tat Court.
Ai*‘» itt adjalninf rnmitlMlnWwirjia.
ft/- tfßca in Csurt Mouse.
Robert M. If.'. Glenn,
Attorney at Law,
LaFayktte, - - - - Gkoroia.
Wit, I, PRACTICE in the SupeiiorCourt* ofthe
liotye and adjoining circuit*. Collection* a
ajH*c'alty. Office ua cor.ter opposite Drug ►tore,
t ' ,1 .15 3m.
J«MIX i'BKLAN, **•
Phelan A Goree,
Attorneys at Law,
Pops Block,
249 Market St.,
MI&TTAMiIIiUA, ... TENNESSEE
IU,U, P. Jacoway,
Attorney* at Law,
Trenton, - - - - Georgia.
PRACTICE in the counties of Dade, Walker and
i'at.vMA, and adjoining counties, and in tint Fu
|>rcme and Feder ii «:ou t* A‘so, Jackson. *. cKallt
an (i< Jheroken, lit North Alaham*, mid elsewhere hr
«ipeci <1 contract. Special attention given to the col
lection of eUira*.
W.tM. Henry,
Attorney at Law,
Summerville, - - - - Georgia.
■\irilalj practl e In the Rom** and adjoining Cir-
W cult*. Collections a specialty.
J. Clements,
Attorney at Law,
LaFayette, - - - Georgia.
-v it | \ t practice ill the several comUicH of the
W !totn« and Cherokee Circuits, and the Supreme
ITourr of (Jcorgi*.
F. V. Copeland,
Attorney at Law,
T, Fayette, - - - Georgia.
"MAT 11,1. practice in the Superior Courts, of Rome
W Circuit. Kl-ewhrr** »*v special agroemeut. t;ol
fort ions a spciaty. (Office In rear of Culberson’*
H»orv.)
11. P. Lumpkin,
Attorney at Law,
LaFayette - - Georgia.
tl.l. ttiv prompt attention to all business
f ♦* wn trusted to him.
ft/- Office at Shu lord fc LumpMn’a store.
DENTISTS:
Dr. Geo. B. Jordan,
Resident Dentist,
Rising Fawn, - - - - Ga.
Offer* hi« professional services to the people o(
Dade and Walker counties. Dental operations per
form* d in a neat and Riitistantial muni er.
All work w*rrmted to give perfect satisfaction.
Will make a professional «rlr* through McLe
morvK 1 t’ove. on the rtr*t of eat h mouth.
Dr.J. P. Pann,
Resident Denti*t.
Da r.To.v, - - - Georgia.
jjMI _ -jji TAM PREPARED with all ilib
fffiyrafiCSiL 1 Modern liuprovemcui* in Dental
to turn out a* good work
a* can be had In the St tc, and .it as low price* a*
uan he doueby anv firatclass worknnn.
ft/-| guarantee all woik turned nut to stand any
nd %!l reasonable tests. Speci.nl attention given to
correct!ng irregularities in children’s teeth.
ft/*ijnd|e* wai'ed on at Ilnur residence, when un
able -o visit llie office. A liberal share of patronage
solicited,
CQMiffice: ITp-stair* on Hamilton street, opposite
N* ional Motel.
Will visit LaFavette, Walker Co., at Superior
Ooirts August and February.
HOTELS:
HAMILTON HOUSE,
CHATTANOOGA, TENN.
J. T;t. * LKQ,. prop's.
Centrally Located ; <*ood
Accommodation*; Kate*
Reasonable.
Terms; sl-50 to $2-00 per Day-
THE ROME HOTEL,
llroad Sit., Rome, €<a.
I* TUM Stkp: Os THE KaII ROAD.
AO OMNIBUS NEEDED
IOOATF.D in the Principal Buslmcfb Square of
Jllie City, convenient M the Wha*f, the Hanks
and the Post Office, and is thoroughly renovated and
r< painted. J. L. M. E.STBS, Proprietor.
NATIONAL HOTEL,
J. ((. A. LEWIS, Prop’r.
Dalton, - - - Georgia,
This house is a large four-story brick,
within a few steps of the Passenger do-
BOARD PER DAY - * * $2.00
Polite and attentive porters at every
train; pass them your checks, walk right
over and make yourself at home.
W. M. LEWIS, Clerk.
oj A. JB
DKAI.KK IN—
Staple Dry Goods,
FANCY ANB FAMILY GROCERIES.
Viikindsof produce taken in exchange
for goods. #
We keep the best wagon yard in the
o'.ty. and feed stock at reasonable rates
Our yarJ is free tu all during the day
Walker County Messenger
Giiess IV hot
lIV .1. C. I. A NORTON.
“Guess who?” Ah, I knew by my
bosom's own thrilling,
And I sighed with regret for (he days
that had lied;
l And my heart was awakened to many
a feeling,
That I thought long ago had been
withered and dead.
Like founts in the wilderness dismal
and dreary,
The letters you traeed brought a balm
to my breast;
Tile flowers, like pint to the mariner
weary,
In tenderness breathed a soft whisper
of rest.
Sweet emblems of friendship! ye still
shall be cherished,
For tlie sake of the giver, tho’ far, far
away,
When my hopes, like the swift fleeting
rainbow have perished,
And friends have forsaken, as changing
as they.
As strangers we met—as friends we
have parted,
The years may he long ere I’ll meet
you again;
On a wide-severed pathway our vessels
have started,
To he rocked on the waves of a wreck
covered main.
But tho’ the last rays of the daylight,
declining,
Shall sink from my gaze in tho dark
ness of gloom;
Tho’ the tremulous light-house of
Hope shall cease shining,
And my barque may unguided drift on
to its doom, —
Yet tile starlighted eyes of my boy
hood’s dreaming
•Shall shine o’er the darkness like Hope
o’er the tomb,
And the thoughts of the past, like the
flowers you sent me,
| Shall shed on the tempest the richest
perfume!
‘‘Cues who?” Who can tell where thy
thoughts are now straying?
And who is the hero that brightens thy
dreams ?
Ah! who may reveal what the future’s
arraying
To darken with shadows the sunshine
it seems!
But be it thy lot that the green arbor
vitaes
Os pleasure shall shadow life’s stream
to its goal,
And violets bloom by its clear, eiystal
waters.
To sweeten the tide of thy years as
they roll.
And when Ago comes as soft as the
pulse of the midnight,
To soar with thy spirit away oil his
wing,
May thy life be as sweet'in its beauti
ful twilight,
As the fragrance that breathed from
the flowers of Spring!
The Doctor’s Story.
We were a knot of doctors, en
joying ourselves after meeting of
the Hippocratic Medical Society,
whose members were accustomed
to assemble ot ce a year for the pur
pose of mutual edification and im
provement. Dr. Galen Cupps was
in the chair. He was our Nestor,
our old man eloquent, a living pro
fessional legendary budget. On his
face you could read “Entertain
meEt” as plainly as you could see
it painted on an old fashioned tav
ern sign; and to it, after a day of
weary rambling over the dusty
paths of therapeuratic lore, we
turned as naturally for refreshment
as the tired wayfarer halts before
the inviting signboard waving hos
pitable welcome to the cheer with
in.
Genial Dr. Cupps ! Like Father
Grimes, t’uat good old man, “we’ll
never see him p.ny more.” No mon
ument marks his last resting place.
The guild of undertakers, possessed
they a spark of gratitude, would
not suffer this to he. As for his
surviving professional brethren, few
of us I fear have money to spend
in that way,
"How do young doctors, as a rule
get their start?" queried a cynical
looking M. D. at the foot of tlie ta
ble, with a nose as sharp as tlie tip
of his own out, of;
course excep'ional cases, like that j
of a man swallowing a fishbone, or ;
dropping suddenly into a fit, where J
there is no choice but tG seek the
nearest aid. What I ask is, how
do people come to trust their lives >
deliberately in inexperienced hands?
What’s the philosophy of it ?”
“Popular ignorance, probablyj
suggested one.
‘ Or cheek in the youngster,” an.
other hinted
“It’s mostly luck, I think,” re!
LAFAYETTE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, M ARC H 31, 1881.
marked tlie chair, upon whom had
j been turned a number of inquiring
looks.
“Come, doctor, give us your ex-
I perience on the point was seconded
| and carried."
'Mine was n case of pure luck,’
said lie.
'Won’t you tell us about?’ we
j entreated.
I)r. Cupps was not the man torc
fuso.
‘Young men now-n-days,’ he be
g<-n; ‘enter the profession with
otlu r advantages than we old fel
lows had. The public hospitals,
now accessible to students, afford
them opportunities to learn much
by observation, which ice were left
to find out through experiments on
our patients.
'Though I took my degree after
a creditable examination, I doubt
if I could then have distinguished,
by inspection, between the incipi
ent stages of chicten-pox and mea
sles. Had I been called to treat a
simple case of rhematism, ten to
one I should have found a verdict
of white-swelling, and passed a sen
tence of araputition w'tl o it et p
ping to ask the patient what he had
to say against it. My first patient
was Percy Topham, a young man
who had inherited a splendid con
stitution as well as fortune, but fast
making away with both. The case
no doubt, would have fallen in
Dingo’s hands, for lie monopolized
the practice thereabout, but for his
absence on a distant call.
“Come quick, sir!” urged the
Messenger; ‘Mr. Percy is taking on
at an awful rate.’
‘Without staying to inquire fur
ther, I snatched my hat and sallied
forth, quite forgetting in the ex
citement, the new pill-lnigs wherein
was stored my stock of samples.
‘I arrived to find my patient
'taking on’ a* an awful rate, sure
enough.
‘Poxer in hand, lie was laying
about him in a manner highly det
rimental to the furniture. He was
Id ling snakes, lie said. Ha l it been
i loijs, hydrophibia might have been
my diagnosis; but snakes I knew,
meant delirium tremens. And sucli
was the decision of Mr. i'opman’s
own more practiced judgment for,
turning towards me in a lucid ino
ment:
‘l’ve got ’em I)oc,’ he said.
‘I did mv best to calm him, as
sured him I should bring him
around, placed my fingers on his
pulse, and began to count the heals
| but, darting from me he exclaimed:
‘There goes the biggest snake yet
—the old serpent ot all 1’ making
a slash with poker, which caused
me to dodge into a corner.
‘Leaving two to watch him, and
accompanied by the man who sum
moned me, I hurried home to pre
pare such remedies as I should con
elude the case required—a point, I
must confess, a was very far from
clear upon. I had been reared in
a temperate community, had seen
little intoxication or its effects, and
rny reading had not borne specially
in that direction.
‘Before reaching my office, how
ever, I decided wiiat course to take
There was no time to consult the
books. Besides I was ashamed to
do that in tlie presence of the man
who waited to carry back the phys
ic.
He would have taken it as a con
fession of ignorance, and would
have lost no time in proclaiming
me a dunce.
‘Overhauling my stock of drugs, j
and taking a little from every one i
I produced a mixture, some ele- \
ment of which I hoped might prove j
a service.
‘Give him a tablespoonful of it!
every half hour,’ I said to the man, i
handing him the bottle, on which
1 was careful to put no lable.
‘Not caring to he present to wit
ness tiie effect of my maiden pre- j
scriptien, ‘Tell Mr. Topman I’ll i
call in the morning,’ I said*
‘Whatever my patient did, I !
passed u bad night. Os all cases ■
in which to make a debut, why
should the malignant fates send
the very one most likely to expose ;
me ?
‘With many misgivings I prt 4
sented myself next morning at the
patient’s door. I was glad to see
there was no crape on it. I hur-1
ried, trembling, to the sick room. J
‘Good morning Doc,’ cried the in j
valid, rising from a sumptuous j
breakfast, wiping his mouth with j
one hand and extending me the
other. ‘By George, you did bring
me through famously ! That stuff
was mighty nasty, hut it did the |
business. I'm sound as a dollar
this morning!'
•Before I could reply, a serving
man entered, the same by whom I
hud sent the medicine.
‘What’s the matter, Dick ?’ said
Topham.
Boxer’s dead, sir.’
‘Dead ! The deuce 1 Ther’s a go ! j
I suppose you forgot to call at
Butts,’ the farrier’s for that drench
yesterday; just like you, when my
back is turned.
‘No, sir,” the man replied : ‘I
stopped and got it on my way from
the doctor’s and gave it according
to direction.’
‘Just my luck!’ cried Topham,
smiting the table. "You 3ee, Doc,
Boxer was my fastest trotter. I
counted on winning a mint of
money on him at the coming races,
and now lie’s gone and kicked the
bucket. Well, ‘peace to his manes !'
as the poet says. Here, Dick, hand
the doctor that medicine bottle on
the mantle. He may ns well (ill it
up again. This mornings luck may
set me on a fresh spree, and there's
no telling how soon I may need an
other dose.’
‘A glance at the bottle as I look
it made me start. It bore a lahle, on
which I read Simon Botts, Farrier.
‘Can it be,’l mentally exclaimed.
‘ that it was Batts' portion that cured
the man, and mine that killed the
liorsc V It was a strong of cir
curnstantial evidence, at any rate.
‘Quietly pocketing the bottle, I
west my way. If the truth was as
[ surmised, it never came out. lop
ham sounded my praises every
where, and soon the local denth-iist
was pretty equally filled with the
names of Bingo's patients and my
own.”
Aunt Jciihma’s Court ship.
Waal, girls—if you must know —
reckon ] must tell ye. Waal, ’twas
in the winter time, and fatlu r and
I were sitting alone in the kitchen.
We wur sitting tliar sort o’ quiet
like, when father sez, sez he to me,
•Jemima!’ And I sez, sez I, ‘•What,
sir?’ > And he sez, sez lie, ‘Wa’n’t
that a rap at the dooi?’ ai.d I sez,
sez I, ‘No, sir.’ Bimeby, father sez
to me again, sez he, ‘J« minia!’ And
I sez, sez I,‘What sir’ and he siz,
sez he, ‘Are you sure?’ and I sez, sez
I, ‘No, sir.’ So I went to the door,
and opened jt, and sure enough i
there stood —a man. Waal, lie
came in and sat down by father,
and father and lie talked about al- i
most everything you could thick of; i
they talked about the farm, they i
talked about the crops, and they i
talked about politics, and they talked <
about all other ticks.
Bimeby father, father sez to me, <
sez he, ‘Jemima!’ And I sez, sez I i
‘What, sir?’And he sez,‘Can’t we I
have some cider?’ And I sez, sez I
I, ‘I suppose so.’ So I went down j t
in the cellar and brought up a I
pitcher ofeider,and I handed some (
cider to father, and then I handed !
some to the man; and father he (
drinks, the man lie drinks tii! they t
drink it all up. After awhile father i
sez to me, sez he. 'Jemima!' And i
I sez, sez I, ‘What, sir?’ And he
sez, ser. he. “Ain’t it most time for i
me to be thinking ab< ut going to |
bed?’ And I sez, sez I, ‘lndeed you i
are the best judge of that yourself, t
sir,’ ‘Waal,’ he sez, sez he, 1 Jemima. I
bring me my dressing-gown an t
slippers.’ And he put them on and i
after awlilii he went to bed. t
And there sat that man; and i
bimeby he began a-hitching his <
char up to mine—oh my! I was all 1
in a flutter. And then lie sez, sez ; \
he, ‘Jemima?’ And I sez, sez I, i
‘What, sir?’ And he sez, sez he, i
‘Will you have me?’ And I sez, i
sez I. ‘No,sir!’ for I was most scared i
to death. Waal, there we sat, and i
after awhile, will ye believe me, lie r
be gan backing liis chair closer i
and closer to mine, and sez he, ‘Je- I
mimo?’ And I sez, sez I.‘What sir?’ r
And lie sez, sez lie,‘W ill ye have i
me?’ And I Siz, sez I, ‘No, sir?’ i
Waal, by this time be had his arm
around my waist, and I hadn’t tin t
heart to take it away ’cause the t
tours was a rolliu’ dywn his cheeks i
i | and lieAez, srz he, ‘Jemima?’ And
i 1 Isiz.si zl, 'Whill, sii?' And he si z,
i j sez he, ‘For the third and last time.
> I shan’t ask ye agin* will ve have
r im?’ And Isi z. sez I, Ye<, sir,' —
f i fur I didn’t know what i Ire t, t say.
.|- * •
r Those Who Go Forth hi Labor.
For four years i was a worker. 1
- look hack at that happy lime with
' 1 a keen regret that it is now gone.
I The first ami forth were hard years,
1 yet the two in between 1 have ever
! since called my golden years, and
i they cast a halo over the others.
! j Longing 'for the tender grace of a
t day that is dead,’ I fuel that per
i chance if the same work could
again he placed in my hands I,
liusv, self helpful and self forgetful,
1 might find again life sweet and full
l of purpose.
’ ‘They also servo who only stand
and wait.’ such is now rny lot —
, waiting, ever waiting. Blessed are
!, you, women and men, who daily
I go forth to labor. In winter’s cold
f and summers heat I went day by
i, day, and though many a time when
e compelled to g > through the storm
I" and snow, 1 wished I could he home
J well housed and warm, ns seemed
l most fitting to woman’s lot, yet
t now I know how blest 1 was. And
? so with my sister workingwomen.
s Some day, in all probability the
- home and care you long for will he
yours; but no matter how happy
< you may he, those days ot toil at
i loom, at desk, at machine, in the
'. school room or with pen, will seem
blest to you.
I I know there are thousands of in
e telligcnt people who look down on
- people who work for a living, or on
women who are independent
I enough to do so. A sentiment up
s peaied lately in a leading local
i paper that all intelligent people con
- cede woman’s equality to man,
t which statement is about as true
• that all intelligent people concede
j the working class to he equal with
the wealthy. There are plenty of
educated intelligent people to-day
who deny women’s)quality toman
and they deny the equality of tlie
working man and the rich man.
Many a one lots to hear the same
contemptuous words as addresreil
to Ben Franklin, ‘only a ’prentice. ’
Many a man passing along the
crowded streets with face and hands
grimy with honest toil, is sneered
at and avoided, and yet the work
ing man to-day is tlie hone and
sinew of our country. I have no
tice 1 that some of our writers call
themselves the wives of working
men, hut add that their husbands
do not carry dinner pails. Will
some one whose husband does car
ry a dinner pail step forth and
cla'tn the honor? This may gourd i
somewhat sarcastic, but it seemed j
a trifle inoonsintent to call ycur !
husbands workingmen but add |
quickly lie did not carry a pail.
Whether au an works with bead |
or hand he is a working man, hut J
in the common acceptation of the!
term we mean the men who build, ;
j hew, mold, plow, sow and reap, j
stand at the case or on the foot-1
i hoard. Workingman ! The word
conjures up visions of ‘swarthy la
borers nightly thronging past your
do r.’ Next to the miners I think
the knights of the footboard have the
most dangerous occupation in the
world.
Oftentimes when a man has been
wronged, lie seeks revenge by dis
possessing Ids enemy of work, t»y
usiug his influence against Ids get
ting work, or endeavoring to have |
him removed from it. 1 believe in |
the law of letrihution. This belief j
in retribution is ancient. “And
they said to one another, we are
verily guilty concerning our broth
er, in that we saw tlie anguish of
his soul, when he besought us, and
| we would not hear; tier fore is this
distress come upon us.” However,
it is seldom that retribution is
visited on another but what the in*
iiocent suffer with the guilty. No
matter hew much retjibtition is!
deserved it very frequently causes!
untold sufferings to innocent ones \
bound by nature’s ties to the guilty ;
one. In revenjing ourselves we
may strike a fatal blow to those ;
who never injured us.
The crudest revenge one can
take on another is to deprive him j
of Her of their labor. I know of a j
mr.n who tried to get another dis- j
| churn'd, but was unsuccessful.
1 1 retaliated by »>nving the firs'
nut of employment. It usny
. been n just thing, but when I
there mnv have born it w
< iiiulron <U*|i**ntl**nt on him
very wrung, especially lit
t)><• midst of the lute I
When I heard No. 2 1
1 i
, ingly of liis notion 1
disgust. Depriving
brrnd nml buttt r is ■
■ from tin 1 conduct :
I words, ‘lf thine
feed him.”
I
A Strugru
I A story of nb
rlnrance and to
, the far West.
I E 1). N. Foo
tho stage lin<
I FcUcrman, on
Platte river, for
on the Union Pm
backboard drawn
I horses. The snow
and drifting badly, lit
i reached the I wenty-t wi
i had com; lately lost t
■ ttie horses -.ere suffered
I about, gllided only by
: instinct. After a time tli
I backboard behind them, c.
. ed to push forward on hor
i At on.- point Mr. Foote was .
> killed by his horse, which fell I
ward into a snowdrift eight l
L deep. After this tho horses wen
> abandoned and the men struggled
i along on foot, hands, faces and feet
being badly frozen. The three
i men had three sacks of mail and a
i canvas overcoat. The first man
i would stand on his mail sack and
t throw the co it ahead of him,
• | allowing him to take one step.
I Then each man would follow on
i step by step, and the hist man
, picking up the third bag, would
i heave it abend for the first man to
■ step on. In this way they Hindu
something like three miles, and
j when the third night set, in they
| began calling .'or help, and in half
an hour were answered. Ollier
calls wt re made an I they were tgair.
answered by the filing of a gun.
Again and aga'n they called, and
finally a light appeared; and in an
hou r and a half they made the last i
quarter of a mile t . the stage sta
t on, twenty-five nrles from the j
starting point. Mr. Foote says:
"When I found that I was safe, it 1
seemed impossible for me to move.
I fell twice in going the Just few
yards to the stable. I had no
strength, and after entering the j
barn I could not cat.”
Tit far Tat.
An old lady of bis (lock once
Dr. dill with a gri v
ance. The doctor's neckbands w ere
I too long for her ideas ol ministerial
j humanity, and after a long liar
i anguc on the sin of pride, she inti
| rnn'ed that she had brought a pair
of scissor* w ith her, and would he j
i pleased if her dear pastor would
; permit her to cut them down to her j
| notions ol propriety. Tire doctor |
j not only listened patiently, but |
handed over the offending white
hands to operate upon. When she
had cut them to her satisfaction
and returned the Libs, it was the j
doctor’s turn.
'Now’, sai l he, ‘you must do me j
a good turn also.’
•Yes, that I will doctor,’ replied ;
she, ‘What can !t lie?’
•Well, you have something about j
you which is a deal too long and j
j which causes me no end of trouble, i
i and T should to see it shorter.’
j ‘lndeed, dear sir, 1 will not hes
itate, what is it ? Here art the scis-1
sors, use them as you please.’
‘Cone, thou,’said the sturdy db
vine, ‘good sister, put out your
tongue.’
Doctor N is as bad a sportsman
as lie is a physician, but this dies
not prevent him, a3 regularly as
the season cones around, from
i spending a fortnight in the fields
with his ilog and Ids gun. ‘‘And ]
j that’s the only period of the year]
when he dosn’t kill anything,”]
said one of his colleagues Kindly> i
*
A middle-sized bov, writing a
| composition on ‘Extremes, re
j marked that ‘we should endeavor j
' to avoid extremes, especially those ;
! of wasps and bees.’ I
! hn
! with .
my ay fin.
not c<>hl.'
went In r. I’m w;.
the lime l’i llmv demo.
Tummy win in the u
of tin- lii'il, anil Harry didn’t have ™
half hnim enough. Tom’s mother
paid: 1 \\ hy don't you move over ?
! You've t ik"ii up nil the . room
Tmn'ii .!' Aiid Tot" n plied: ‘ Willj
‘ if I've )iot the midilii', hasn’t Harry ,
| got both sidesf
The hotel hoy had been in
structed, when lie knocked at Dean
’ Stanley V door and hear I the in l
j ipiiry, "Who is there?’ to reply (
‘The hoy, my lord.’ The hoy an
swered the first call with considera
ble trepidation, and surprised the
Dean hv a hind response to ji"," l !'«■
ouestioi :‘The lord, inv boy. !• -ui.i
---> -m * ' I ‘"" k
OIJ gentleman (military tn.fn) con- •in
versing with Miiart-looking I.iahmnn:
■‘Wounded in ilie Crimea, wero you?
Badly?” Iri.-hnian. “The hullet bit
me in (Ik: ehist, here si:lt. an’ came out
at uie hud !” Old gentleman, '‘Conic,
cmne, Pal, the won't du! Why, it would
have gone tight. through your heart,
man!” Irshman; “Oell| fuiih me heart
was in tue mouth at the toime. surr!”
A New Hampshire farmer recently
agreed to sell his-fnrm for 1f2,000, hot
when the day came lie told the expeetat
purchaser that Ills wife wag in liislerh'S
about Ihe trade, ai.d lie “guessed liv’d
have to hack dot.” The purchaser
complained, and tlnaiiy asked lioiv
much more would induce him to sell.
“Well,” replied the thrifty son of
tlrantte stale, “give me S2OO more and
we’ll let her erv.”
l’rof. Geiger sat in an easy chair
on deck looking very pale. The
compassionate captain nsKed how
ho felt. ‘Miserable, miserable; I'm
side, captain I'm si'K. I have
paid tribute to Neptune until l’vo
lost everything.’ ‘lint,’ said the
captain,‘l see you still have your
hoots loft. ‘Yes,’said the Professor
faintly, 'but they were op the out
side.
A lady now residing in this city was
once traveling hy stage among the
< atskill mountains, ami slopped for
the night at an out-ot-tlie-way him
She was tired with her journey and
slept late in (lie morning, not respond
ing to Ihe first eal{ for breakfast. I’n
sently there value another tap at her
door,'and a girlish voice said : “dense,
liiillil, won’t you get up? We want to
use one of your sheets for a table- 1
cloth.” —[Keokuk Consti till ion.
•0 ♦
When the late Senator M it 11. Car*
pen l r was a hay, he did not like to
work on the fa I ui. One day lbs father
left home, tolling him !o hoe a patch
of potatoes and gave him two shillings
with which to hire help. Ho bought a
shilling’s worth of whiskey and secured
a mail to help him. lie would s’mid at
the end of the row uad give the man a
drnk as list as he got around to him.
The potatoes were soon hoed, and Mat
raved a shilling.