Newspaper Page Text
SPRING PLACE JIMPLECUTE.
J. O. HEARTSELL, Ed. and. Puto.
VOL XIV.
Nine hundred and forty works of
fiction were published last year.
The mule appears to the New York
World to be worth more money than ;
the horse in the Souib and West just :
now.
Children who are dressed in white
clothes, medical men declare, are
more susceptible to colds and iufee- ;
turns diseases than those clad m dark,
warm colors.
Another old and well-established in
dm try has received a blow, laments
the San Francisco Examiner. An Oak
laud man has been arrested for cheat- |
ing in a horse trade.
Some fourteen Japanese life insnr
anee companies were started during
the past year, and some of them have
rather extraordinary names, one being
called Sanitary Life and another
Buddhist Life.
In India 25,000,000 acres are made
fruitful by irrigation. In Egypt there
are about 6,000,000 aeres, and in
Europe about 5,000,000. The United
States has about 1,000,000 acres of ir- 1
cigated lands.
Canon Farrar says that the present
statistics show that the number of
births in the richest districts of lven
sington, London, are twenty per 1000 j
every year, while the number of births
in the poorest districts of Fnlham are i
forty-eight per 1000.
Dr. Cyrus Edson, Commissioner oi
the Board of Health of New York,
says the grip will not remain with us
much longer, but will disappear for a
generation. “This is tough on the
next generation,” admits the Chicago
Herald, “but pleasant for this one.”
The State of Mississippi is proposing
to discontinue the penitentiary lease
system and to establish a farm on
which its convicts will be employed.
It is proposed to purchase a farm of
not less than 5000 acres. Texas has
‘iu"h a farm, which has proved profita¬
ble.
M. Gaulp, writing to a Paris publi
cation from Russia, says that tlie cul
tivationof cotton in the Zarafshan
district of that country has developed
wonderfully since American varieties
of the plant have been introduced.
At first the natives were so prejudiced
against the new plants that the experi
ment failed.
An Australian confectioner has hit
* upon the idea, relates the New York
Tribune, of printing the news of the
day upon a thin paste of dough, using
chocolate instead of ink. He delivers
these,cakes to his customers, who first
read them, and then eat then with
their coffee. This is a new and novel
way of devouring the news.
The publishers of a Swiss guidebook
have been sued for damages for print¬
ing in their book that at a certain pic¬
turesque resort “there are frequent
complaints as to uncivil conduct on
the part of the proprietors toward the
tourists.” The defendants proved
that the statement was true, and the
plaintiffs had the costs to pay.
Those people who fancy that all of
Africa may be described by the phrase
“the Dark Continent” will probably
be surprised to learn, the Argonaut
thinks, that there is a girls’ seminary
i tjt ii. ne . Un n a Pe n °°" i 5 , ftVing . *
’ ’
faculty f of ,. twenty . professors, and
numbering on its list of alumrne more
than a thousand descendants of Eng¬
lish, Dutch and French settlers.
Another strip of Indian lands, the
northern part of the Colville reserva¬
tion in Washington, will probably be
thrown open to settlement next fall.
Government surveyors completed their
survey of the strip about a week ago.
The reservation is bounded on the
north by the British Columbia boun¬
dary line, on the west by the Okano¬
gan River, and on the south and east
by the Columbia River. The portion
to be thrown open for settlement ex¬
tends the whole width of the reseva
tion, and from the British Columbia
boundary to about thirty-six miles
south. It has an approximate area oi
2500 square miles. There are a few
Indians on the strip, who will receive
each 160 acres before the land is
thrown open to the whites.
SPRING PLACE, MURRAY COUNTY, GA. SATURDAY. APRIL T, 1894.
COUNTING APPLESEEDS.
Beside the hearth cue winter night
Made rosy by the great log’s light,
That flaming up the chimney dark,
Lit every cranny, every nook,
Upon the ra* a little maid
Sat curled, in pose demure and staid.
In pensive mood, with dreamy eyes
Bile sits, while up the chimney Hies
A thought with every fiery spark
Glinting and flashingthroujfh the dark,
"Till with a sigh profound and deep
She moves, as one moves in her sleep,
A rosy apple in her hand
A weight of thought seems to demand.
She taps it with a finger light.
Then carefully she takes a bite.
Another bite, now one, now two—
The core is thus exposed to view.
Another sigh ! what can it ho
My little maid that aileth thee?
Ah ! what is this? some incantation ?
Muttered with such reiteration?
Hark ! as each seed tier bright eves see,
These are the words that come to me :
“One 1 love, two I love
Three I love, 1 say !
Four I love with all my heart,
Five—1 cast away.”
Here a tear rolls brightly down,
What the secret she lias won?
Who can say! But just behind
Sounds a voice so soft and kind
“Look again ! Thou must indeed
Find for me another seed 1"
Hosier her I.right cheeks glow
In the firelight’s ruddy glow.
Sure enough ! a culprit seed.
Finds she in the core indeed—
“From thy lips 1 fain would hear
What the sixth one moans, my dear.”
“Six he loves," she murmured low.
An I the firelight's flickering glow,
Two happy faces now disclose
With checks agiowing like the rose.
But here we’ll let the curtain fall
For the end is best of all.
—Sacramento
THE MAHOGANY SETTLE.
BY HF.r,EN FORREST GRAVES.
RS. OAKLEY
4 bleasher kind heart t ’
—was not of a
ous nature. It
not behoove a
ister’s wife to
Ll 3 jealous; but,
dinner was
Oil the
well-browned
n chicken, with
sauce, and a baked
Indian pudding to follow—and it
undoubtedly a relief when her lius
ont ol the study and seat^
“Was that Miss Penriff?” said she.
“Yes,” Mr. Oakley answered, “it,
was Miss Penriff. She wants to soil
mahogany settK”
delightful old settle, with the griffins’
bumpy heads at the top and the claw
feet at the bottom? I didn’t,know that
anything would induce her to part
with that.”
And then Mr. Oakley pronounced
the blessing
“I wish I could afford to buy it!”
added Mrs. Oakley, tucking a" bib
apron under the youngest Oaldev’s
plump chin. “What did you tell her,
Simeon?”
"Why, I told l,«r I’<1 writ. to tb*
big antique-buying firm in New York,’
said Oakley. “They’re the only peo
pie who can deal with her to any ad
vantage. A big hall-settle like that is
only appropriate for big houses, with
wide entrances, such as, according to
all reports, that poor, desolate old
maid once lived in. And big houses
are mostly found in big cities.”
“Poor tiling!” said Mrs. Oakley.
And she helped her husband to
apple-sauce. ....
While Keziah Penriff went slowly
home to the old red house under the
hill, where Dolly was making tomato
catsup in the kitchen.
“VYell, Dorothy,” said she, “I've
done it.”
“Done what, Aunt Kizzy?”
“I’ve sold the old hall-settle.”
Dolly looked up from the scarlet
steam of the tomatoes to the cool hall
oppoait e, where the griffin’s wooden
eye seemed to leer at her out of the
shadows, and one carved and shining
claw was poised on the floor, as
about to take a forward step.
“Oh, Aunt Kizzy!” said she.
“Yes, I know,” sighed the elder
woman. “But there’s got to be an end
to everything, Dolly. I’m a poor
woman now, and 1 can’t afford to hold
on to luxuries that are nothing but
luxuries.”
“But,” gasped Dolly, stirring away
with spasmodic vigor at the tomatoes,
“Grandfather Penriff brought- that set
tie from Holland himself, and it’s two
hundred years old ! And it’s the last
relic of the old house on the hill!”
“Still,” reasoned Miss Penriff, look
ing away over the blue Indian
mer haze toward the yellowing forests,
“I’ve no right to keep it, Dolly. It’s
been almost a matter of idolatry with
me, and perhaps I’d better let it go.
We are poor, Dolly—very poor!”
Dolly lifted the kettle off the stove,
“It’s no disgrace,” said she, with a
comical grimace. “But it’s most un¬
commonly inconvenient. ”
“If you feel that way, Dorothy, ”
“TELL TE E TRUTH.”
said Mias Penriff, “I don’t see why yoi
refused Orlando Dailey last week. ”
“Why,” said Dolly, opening he
blue eyes very wide, “because Ididn*
love him !”
“He’s very rieb, Dorothy.”
“He’s welcome to his money, Aun'
Kizzy. ”
“My goodness me,” said Miss Pen
rift, putting on her spectacles (alas
i " hat a trial to her pride that first pail
of steel-rimmed spectacles had been!)
“who’s that driving down the road ii
a covered cart?”
Dolly stepped back into the shadow,
“I don’t know,” said she, “but—1
—think it’s Johnny Barton.”
“Oh !”said Miss Penriff “Has thal
’•oung man gone iuto the express busi¬
ness?”
“Not exactly,” said Dolly, busying
herself among the tomato jars. “But
| I old think china he drives around picking up
; and brass fire-dogs, and
| such things for some big collector in
! New York.”
“Oh!” again uttered Miss Penriff.
| And there was a whole volume of !
| meaning in the one little word.
“He’s a very nice young man,” said I
Dolly, timidly.
“I don’t doubt it,” said Miss Pen !
rift, i . But I wonder what he wants
here?”
The little discussion was terminated
by the sudden tapping of Johnny Bar
ton’s whip-handle against the side of
the open door.
! Yes, he was a very nice young man
—blue-eyed and frank-faced, with yel¬
low hair curling away from his tem¬
ples, and white teeth which shone
every time he shifted.
He had only been in Rodendale a
lew weeks. Miss Penriff had seen him
now and then, but she hardly remem¬
bered him.
“How do you do, Miss Penriff?”
said he, with stupendous self-posses¬
sion.
“Mr. Barton, aunt,” said Dolly, in
a hurried sort of way. “This is my
aunt, Miss Penriff, Johnny.”
“1 don’t know what has procured
me the honor of this call,” said Miss
Penriff, straightening herself up.
For she never could forget, this
poor, faded elderly woman, that her
■ tatllor ’ S, l mvo Peregrine Penriff, had
j once been the richest man in the
county.
“ Veil, I don’t know much about
the honor of the thing,” sn'.d John
Barton, laughing. “But I’ve just
heard from Mr. Oakley that yon
wanted to sell an old carved settles,
I'm buying up that sort of tiling.” '
“Oh, indeed?”
“Perhaps you would allow me to
look at it?” went on Johnny, resolved
on business. ft
Dolly flung open the hall window
that was generally kept closed and
curtained. A blaze of yellow sunlight
flooded the hall, a gust of sweet,
autumn, leaf-scented air came in and
the carved griffins seemed to wink
their wooden satisfaction.
“There !” cried Dolly. “Isn’t it a
beauty ? And heavy - oh, what a piece
of solid heaviness ! Oh, that isn’t a
secret drawer! It’s only a place to
put umbrellas and canes in. I used
to lie certain there was a secret drawer
in it when I was a child. But, I’ve
changed my mind now.”
John Barton walked slowly around
the settle, eyeing it from every point
of view. Miss Penriff watched him.
“Yes, it is a beautyi” ^ said he
“g?,**
c hardly think you can afford to
]>ny H> -/ it, , u young a man,” said the elderly
-John Larton . reddened a little. j !
“ oh - for that,” said he, rather
awkwardly I m representing some ;
u ?,£f?- Personally, perhaps— |
Well, said Miss Penrifl, ‘it cost j
three hundred dollars. But I don’t
ex pect to get its full value.”
“Aunt Keziah would take a hun
dred,” fluttered Dolly, “if—”
“Very well,” said Mr. Barton, “it’s
a bargain. Is there a man about the
who could help me lift it into
wagon?” I ■
“There’s old Silas Wiggins beyond
the big rock, suggested Dolly. j
- J 1 '. w [' e “I 6 barton was gone |
* or him, trie old lady sat down on the
settle, where the yellow sunshine |
glimmered and the smell of late ;
mignonnette came in at the window. |
saul she. was there where 1 used to sit,” !
was a big stained j
fi.'* ass window in the hall just over it, i
and a great fireplace beyond, where j
burned such big black logs of
co I“> winter nights. And there, in
^e other corner, my lover used to sit.
j , YO* ce quivered; a tear sparkled j
i ' n the' faded blue eyes behind the j
steel-rimmed spectacles. ]
j suddenly ‘‘pb* Aunt flinging Keziah!” her arms cried around Dolly, the J j
( lady’s neck. “I never knew you j
! bad a lover. ’
j “Does any woman eyer live to be ;
j twenty M lss Penriff. without “But a lover, grandfather child?” said j j
j your
va ® a very ambitious man. He was i
Rising money in those South Sea ship- j
j ventures oven then, though I j
; 'ti'lu t know it—and he wanted me to
! marry a rich man and retrieve the j
; family fortunes. And Henry was j
j poor.
j “' Was ,r ' that his name, Aunt Keziah?"
“,-5o I never married at all,” went on
j Miss And, Penriff. with infinite “Good-by, pathos, old she settle!” touched I
her lips lightly to the biggest of tha
griffins’ heads.
But Dolly held tight to her aunt’s
hand; she clung around her neck,with
passionate kisses.
“Now you know, Aunt Keziah,*’ said
she, almost in a sob, “why I didn’t ae
kept Orlando Dailey 1 Now you know
Why I love Johnny Barton. Johnny
isn’t rich, but neither was your Henry.
Oh, Aunt Keziah, you won’t blame
me?”
“Dear me!" said Miss Penriff, in a
sort of bewildered way. “You don’t
mean to say—”
“Yes,I do,’’said Dolly, turning pink
and white, like the tall hollyhocks at
the garden gate. “It was only last
'
night, when we walked home from the
prayer meeting together. T couldn’t
Hunk of what Elder Johnson was say
' n ,g because of John’s blue eyes, and it
like a dream to me, until
bfe asked me to try and love him a
little?”
“And do yon love him, Dorothy?”
with .“I’d him ride in that around old the covered whole world if
cart,
only say yes!” sobbed the girl.
“I don’t care for money or rank. I
only know that I love John!”
And she slipped book into the sha
dows as Jolmuy Barton and old Silas
Wiggins came to lift out the the ma¬
hogany Miss Penriff settle.
; watched them through
a mist of tears.
Here wn's the blossoming out of truth
and love, and all that blessed disre¬
gard of ways and means that only hail
comes in the dawn of life. She
outgrown it all, but it was a story that
repeated itself with each new genera¬
tion.
She remembered that Mr. Oakley
tad said that John Barton was a good
i >uug fellow enough. She looked at
he old settle, where she and Henry
Hartford had sat years ago, and she
beckoned softly to Dolly.
“Dorothy, ” said she, ‘.‘if yon love
lad, take him. I—I was young
oflee!”
And then she went back into the
ouse, so that she might not see the
< ld griffins, with the claw feet, being
eariod away.
Only two weeks afterward Dolly
< ame eagerly to her aunt.
“John’s uncle is coming down from
New York,” said she—“the gentleman
who bought the mahogany settle. It
hasn’t for a store, Aunt Keziah, that
J >bn bought it. I was for his own
house. He’s very rich, and John is
his •Jgi'ftpb; only heir. And he liked my pho
and he’s coming to see you
to-night. Doesn’t it sound exactly
like a newspaper story?” faltered hap¬
py Dolly. “Who’s that knocking at
the door? It can't be John’s uncle
already?”
Miss Penriff’s drawn face had bright¬
ened into sudden radiance.
“It’s Henry 1” said she, with a start.
Dolly looked half frightened, but at
the same moment the door opened and
John Barton c une in with another
gentleman, gray and portly.
“He arrived by the four-o’clock
train, Dolly,” said he. “And onlji
think—he used to know your aunt a
quarter of a century ago!”
“Henry!” faltered Mias Penriff
“Keziah !”
To the young people, fall of the
ineffable arrogance of youth, it was
the meeting of two gray, wrinkled old
people—to Henry Hartford and Ke
zi:lh Penriff, time had gone backward,
T" °°
“Keziah, why did you not tell me
wJ)ere yon were ?”
, ‘-Henry, why did you not say some
thing to let me know you cared for me
still?”
And the ncxt day all Rodendale was
convulset j with the news that there
wflS to be a double wedding in the
p } ace#
“As for Johny Barton and pretty
Dorothy Hall, it’s all right and proper
enough,” said the voice of popular
opinion. “But for old people like
Miss Penriff and that fat New York
no one can set lim¬
its to the ridiculous!”
But how wa8 popu i a r oninion tc
know thllt> to alI intents and purposes,
Heny and Aunt Kizzy had been
dipped in the waters of the fountain
* von fj, •»
j ohn aml Dorothy might go to
pfehmoud on their wedding trip, but
wag it not happiness enough for theii
elders to sit side by side on the old
mft bogany settle once more?—Satur
q ay *
—
A Studio Trick.
j n (q, e corner Of an artist’s studio it
this city is an ingenious arrangement
() £ screens, upon one of which, over an
aperture about the size of a face, ia an
inscription: “Likenesses taken in
stanteously.” The innocent visitor
pee k s through the hole and is aston
i^j le( t to. behold an exact likeness of
himself as a hump-hacked jailer in a
scarlet coat, opening a prison door,
The secret of this effect ia simple. The
jailer is a life-size painting strongly
rendered. The place for the face is
uu j; ou t and a mirror inserted, reflect
JU j| the features of the spectator. The
,-onception of the amusing fantasy is
uo | entirely €he original. It was irnpor
t e dfrom studio of AViertz, the
Belgian artist. — Philadelphia Record.
....... ■■ ..........—
Joe Gritfen, a Pittsburg newsboy,
has a bank balance of nearly $6000,
and is making from $60 to $75 a week.
Sl.CX) a Year in Advance.
WORDS OF WISDOM.
Eat to please thyself, but dress tc
please others. —Franklin.
Delicacy is to the mind what fra
grance is to the fruit. —Poincelot. ■
Prejudice is never easy unless it cat
pass itself oft' for reason.—Hazlitt.
Slander is the revenge of a coward
and dissimulation his defense.—John*
son.
A man must stand erect, not bt
kept erect by others.—Marcus Aure¬
lius.
War. is a game, which, were theii
subjects wise, kings would not play at.
—Cowper.
Don’t put too fine a point to yoni
wit for fear it should get blunted.—
Cervantes.
To be a man’s own fool is bail
enough; but the vain man is every¬
body’s. —Penn.
Our greatest glory is not in nevei
falling, but in rising every time we
fall. —Confucius.
Strength is iucomprensible by weak
ness, and, therefore, the more terri¬
ble.—Hawthorne. ,
The tones of human voices are
mightier than strings of brass to move
the soul.— Klopstock.
Every duty which is bidden to wait
returns with seven fresh duties at its
back.—0. Kingsley.
To mourn a mischief that is past and
gone is the next way to draw new mis¬
chief on.—Shakspcare.
High stations tumult, not bliss ere
ate. None think the great unhappy
but the great.—Young.
Memory sometimes acts like an old
flint gun; it hangs fire, yet ends by
going oft.—Charles KeaYlo.
It is not from nature, but from edu¬
cation and habits that our wants are
chiefly derived.—Fiolding.
Helfsconceit magnifies a fault beyond
pr portion, and swells every omission
iuto an outrage.—Jeremy Collier.
Befor# yon can be said to know a
man you must have eaten forty pounds
of Proverb. salt in his company.—Eastern
Chinese “Letter Shops.”
According to the United States con¬
sul at Fu Chau, the Chinese Govern¬
ment has not yet established any post
office or postal system for the masses
of the people ; yet communication is
Aisy between the people in all parts of
the empire through private enterprise,
which has established what are called
“lettershops.” Official dispatches are
carried by couriers, at a rate so rapid,
in cases of emergency, as from two
hundred to two hundred and fifty miles
a day. These official couriers are not
allowed to convey private disp itches.
At the treaty ports “letter shops” are
used by the natives only; but in the
interior, or at places not reached by
the foreign postal arrangements, they
are employed by foreigners as well,
chiefly by missionaries. All letters
and parcels to be sent may be reg¬
istered and insured. When given in
at a “letter shop, ” the contents of the
envelope are displayed before it is
scaled up, and stamped with the
“chop” of the shop. Charges for the
transmission of valuables aremadfl on
a percentage of declared value, and,
as with letters, differ according to the
distance to which the package is to be
carried. A receipt is given, and the
shopkeeper then becomes responsible
either for its safe delivery, with un¬
broken “chop” or seal, at its destina¬
tion, or for its return to the sender.
In some parts of the empire about
two-thirds of the expenses of trans¬
mission are paid by the sender, while
the remainder is collected from the
receiver; thus the shop is secured
against entire loss from transient cus¬
tomers, and the sender has some
guarantee that- his letter will be car¬
ried with dispatch. There are said tc
be nearly two hundred letter shops in
Shanghai, but in many remote villages
there are none.—Popular Science
Monthly.
Linden-Seed Oil.
The expense and the difficulty of
procuring pure olive oil iu Germany
have led to many attempts to find a
satisfactory substitute. For some years
oil has been produced in Southern
Germany from the beechnut, but lias
not come into general use owing to
the scarcity of the nut.
Receutly experiments have teen
made with the seeds of the linden tree
with excellent results, and it is doubt¬
less only a question of time when it
will be considered one of the regulur
sources of table oil. 1 is claimed
that limlen seed oil ha. a peculiar fine
flavor, and the appearance of olive oil.
It does not evaporate nor become ran¬
cid, biit can be subjected to extremes
of temperature without iujury.—New
York World.
A Privileged Peer.
Lord Forester, who has, says the
Leeds Express, just restored at his
own expense the historic church of
Much Wenlock, Shropshire, whose
foundation dates so far back ns 680, is
one of the two peers who have the
privilege of wearing their hats in the
presence of the Sovereign. His Lord
ship is rector of a quiet little parish
in Nottinghamshire, and is chancellqr
and canon residentiary of York Minster.
NO. 5
LITTLE Lady is her name.
Little lady is her name—
She has no desire for fame.
She is neither rich nor proud ;
Should you meet her in a crowd
You’d perhaps but catch the sight
Of brown eyes more softly bright
Than the water of a brook
In some sweet last summer’s nook.
She’s as delicate and shy
As some brown bird that would fly
When you near it; and her feet
Hardly seem to touch the street.
My two hands would span her waist
In its bodice loosely laced ;
Mv one arm would lift with ease
That small burden—should it please
Her to call me to her. aid.
But she never seems afraid.
She’s as tender as a dream,
She's as fleeting as a gleam
Of the February sun
When the clouds athwart It run.
Pure at heart and mild as dove,
She's the on’y one I'd tore.
She's my only dear of dears—
She’s my hope through all the years.
Is she youna or is she old
Matters not—her heart's of gold.
Toils she somewhere in the town,
Busy—hands and eyes cast down—
Is she child or woman—nay,
More than this I’ve not to say
Sheetas never dreamed of fame—,
Lit'.lc lady is her name!
—Cecil Charles.
PITH ANI) POINT.
Every man is the architect of his
own castles in the air.—Galveston
News.
The man who is standing up for you
soon gets tired and sits down.—Atchi¬
son Globe.
A man is like a gas-jet. The more
he blows the less light he gives out.—
Boston Transcript.
Woman may be the weaker vessel, but
it’s always the husband that’s broke.
—Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Only reason why it is often difficult
to find a runaway , team is that the
horse usually takes the traces with
him.—Lowell Courier.
Unsuccessful persons excuse them¬
selves by saying they are better adapt¬
ed for some other business than their
own.—Philadelphia Call.
It is a great day in alloy’s life when
he gets to be big enough so that for
the first time his mother doesn’t cut,
his hair.—Boston Courier.
“What do you call that great clumsj
dogof yours ‘Conductor’for?” “That’s
it; because he is always knocking down
something. ’’—Boston Commercial Bul¬
letin.
Tenant—“That house of yours is in
a terrible condition, It isn’t tit for
pigs to live in.” Landlord—“And
you are therefore going to move?”—
Boston Transcript.
Once in a very great while you meet
a man who owns a dog, and who doesn't
think that he is really the most re¬
markable dog, by Jove, that ever lived.
—Somerville Journal.
“Are the Millers pleasant neigh¬
bors?” “Well, I should say so. They
know something disagreeable about
almost every one of their acquaint¬
ances.”'—Inter-Ocean.
‘‘Papa,’’BaidJohnuySnagg’s. ‘■ Well,
Johnny?” “What Is a miracle, papa?’*
“Well, Johnny, it is a miracle when I
get a seat in the street car. ’’— Pittsburg
Chronicle-Telegraph.
“Yes, sir, that man is a hypocrite,
if there ever was one. While profes¬
sing the warmest friendship for me,
lie was for a whole year stabbing me
in the back, and I never knew it.”
‘'Goodness gracious! What kind of a
back have you got?”—Grenoble
Monthly.
Clerk—“This is called the bureau
trunk, and I think will suit you exact¬
ly. It—” Customer—“It can’t be
fixed so that you would have to unpack
it clear to the bottom if you’d put the
wrong things in first?” Clerk—“No,
no; every tray is separate.” “Well,
it wouldn’t suit; it’s for my wife.”—
Inter-Oeean.
The Capital of Wisconsin.
Four Lakes was Madison’s original
name. That was sixty years and
more. In 1836 there was a struggle of
much fierceness over the location of
the Territorial capital among the cities
ambitious to be known as such, these
being Milwaukee, Green Bay, Prairie
du Chien,, .Janesville and a dozen
more. Governor Doty started from
Green Bay on horseback, accompanied
by a surveyor. The Territorial Gov¬
ernor was provided with - a green
blanket and a shotgun, the surveyor
with a chain and compass. In eight
days they reached what was then called
Four Lakes, and the Governor had the
•rveyer make a plat of the place,
whose sole occupant was the owner of
a log cabin. He named the place
Madison, in honor of the President of
that name, proceeded on to Belmont,
where tha Legislature was in session,
and entered the future city of Madispn
as a candidate for capital honors. To
the astonishment of competing cit ; es,
Madison was chosen. It was claimt-u
at the time that when the Legislature
adjourned nearly every member of
that body crafted lot home with him the
deed to a corner in the new town,
—Milwaukee (Wis.) Sentinel.