Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XXVI. NO 46
NOVEL OF THE FUTURE.
HOW IT. WIT,L DIFFER FROM THE
NOVEL OF THE PRESENT.
As i) s- it o'. prefatory note it
in»y b- *<-11 11 . c;.>i at tentiou to
the fact that the novel of the
lit use will differ very material
ly from the novel of tho past or
the novol of the proseut. A
yery different environment nnd
very different manners and cus
toms must of necessity result in
a novtfl wholly unlike those we
know and have known. With
JBis explanation it should be
easy to understand tho accom
panying outline story.
I.
“I will be yours,” she said.
“You could not have pleaded
your case better oven if you had
taken a course in law and de
voted most of your attention to
the subject of special pleadings.
I will be yours; you shall be
mine; we will be each’s.”
The reader will note that this
scene would come just about the
middle of the novol of the past,
but that merely shows how ad
vanced we are.
11.
The wedding bells rang out
merrily. They always do, es
pecially in stories.
It was a gala occasion for all
except the membeos of the En
franchis'd Woman’s club, to
which tho bride had belonged,
»nd which naturally regretted
that she should abandon a fu-
ture that was so full of promise
and bring herself down to the
level of the women of. previous
times. In conformity with the
usages of the club the members
all attended, wearing black
crape bands on their white fedo
ra huts as the insignia of their
woe.
However, it was a gala occa
sion for all the rest, and the
welding was celebrated with all
the customary formalities and
festivities.
The reader will note that this
is the kind of a scene that he
might expect to gel at tho end
of an ordinary love story of tho
present day.
111.
“Well ?”
“Well?”
At the conclusion of this
choice bit pf repartee husband
sn 1 wife glared fiercely at each
other.
Things have been gradually
approaching a crisis, and it now
looked as if they had reached
it. Both had special meetings
at their clubs for that night,
and so it happened that both
could not go.
“I gave up enough for you,”
the said at last, “wheu I gavt
up all that a true woman nat
urally d* sires in order to marry
you, and yet you are not satis
fied, I gave up my political as
pirations and resigned from 8
of my lb clubs, but >ou —you—
why, you have no more regard
for me, no more love and le
spect than to try to force me
down to the level of the old
fashioned woman!”
Thereupon she gave him the
mocking laugh ami left him to
look after the house.
IV.
“I have loft for the land oj
freedom. ”
T tin * rea l the note that she
fouud up Mi the table one eve
ning when she returned Irom a
meeting of the Soci tv For the
Discussion of the Duties o'
Wives atul Mothers.
“Ahal” she cri‘*d. “Okla
homa !’’
Then she sank down in her
easy chair ami buried hot face
in her hands
“Well so be it.” she said st
last- “It returns me to the
gruud and noble work lor the
benefit o f woman and human
ity that 1 so thoughtlessly and
foolishly abandoned. Ah, how
weak 1 was! But it is “hard to
_ shake off the influence of he
Wiiity, and, so far us I can
«sarn, oiy parents and grand
jjjiireiits all had the same weak
absurd us it seems now.”
V.
And so they wore divorced
and lived happily ever atur
ward.— Chicago Post.
L A mad dog does not foaui at
Ihe mouth as is commonly he
](evert. The discharge from the
rrouth, is small in quantity,
brownish in c lor. and ham*
about the ‘lips like strips of
gum. m - »• m
HiPaos Tabules cure flatulence.
B,pa.is Tabules: at druggists.
Bipans Tabulee cure bad breath.
Ilt »n« I’al.iilM hainsri pair.
The Gwinnett Herald.
THE OLD BLACK NURSE.
Smith Clayton in Atlanta Jour
nal.
Walking along an unfrequent
ed street last night just before
the iron tongue spoke 12, the
sound of softened came
floating from a cluster
rude houses iu« garden plot
hard by.
* * *
I stopped and listened: The
chanting rose and fell weirdly ]
with the gentle midnight breeze,
and now and then, freighted
with infinite sadness, 1 caught
the magic words, Far From the
Old Folks at Home!
And as, at last, the mingled
voices died most mournfully
upon the air, the soul sweeps
back to the olden, golden days
of love aud hope and peace, and
I catch a vision of tho old black
nurse upon the old plantation.
And through the mist of years
and tears around her snowy
head tho cotton fi dds do seem
to bloom agniu—and in the
waving of her*dear old arms
th« purple smoke doth curl |
above the cabin in tl e lane
* « *
In her sad smile I see onse
more the light of the old log
fire, and beyond her gleaming
teeth and shining eyes I can
but maik the diamond d.wn
upon old musters dew-decked
lawn.
* * *
Her trembling limbs bring j
back again the yellow leave
a-quiver as th-V fall within the |
grove, and in the broken music j
of her voice 1 seem to hear tin
murmur of the creek below the
hill. And, in her sobs, as bend
ing low her head, I catch the I
crooning of the solemn [lines
above old Chloe‘s grave! . j
Sing on. old trees! for never
was the lullaby of babe so low
and soft, nor velvet throat ol
thrush so silver sweet ns that
same saddened note which wco
me back to days long gone.
Sing low, old trees! Ye mimic
mourners of tie dear and dead,
lest ebm your muffled mono
tone should mar the dreamless
dust of her whose patient smile
did banish earklingcare—whose
withered hand did smooth the
pillow of pain—whose crackling
voice was wont to woo the weary
child to rest!
Sing low, old trees! for every
wrinkle in her honored cheek
some heart was made to smile
for every tremor of her teeble
frame some life took rosy hopes;
for every sob above her, loved,
though lost, some sorrowing
soul is lifted to the light ot
other days!
MUST MARRY WITHIN A
YEAR.
FIVE BACHELORS BIND THEM
SELVES BY OATH TO BE
COME HUSBANDS.
Chicago Tim s Herald.
Shelbyyilll, Ind., —Five
badhelors of this town have ta
! k ‘U oath that they will be mar
,ri >d by Christmas day ot 18R7
j or pay an awful penalty.
They are all well-to-do, gooil
j looking and healthy. They
I have formed themselves into a
j club called “The Coming Bern
i diets” and have registered then
I oaths to be husbauds beforo a
; magistiate.
These gentlemen are Dr. Sam
u 1 Kennedy, a widely know
physician; John Messiek, a
leading druggist of this city:
John It. De Prey, assistant
cashier of the Shelby Bank;
William Talbert, a prominent
lumber man, raid Edward
Swain, who is likewise eugageo
in the lumber trade.
The five gave themselves a
Christmas dinner at the Hotel
Ray, at which Mosaick an
nounced that he has grown tired
to prodding himself trying to
sew on buttons and gave notice
to his friends that he would
soon be married. The others
seotfed at. him. but finally wer*
brought over to his view of life.,
A compact was drawn up and
and sworn to by all.
AH swear that they will be
married by Dec. 25, lbo7, ami
will with their wives meet at
the Ray for tie ir dinner on thut
dav. Tile one who tails his
word engages himself to be pres
ent at the dinner, bound and
gagged and in charge ot th<
sheriff, besides forfeiting HOP
to«aeb of the others.
Daddy-Ycm must go to school;
regular or you won't learn nut
tin.
Cuflv —Did you go regular?
Daddy—Yes,indeed. I never
■nisse I but one day.
Cutfie—l wundeef you'd have
known enny more thin you do
»i you had gone ttiet day *
LAWRENCEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JANUARY 26th 1897.
WHAT HAPPENED
Aunt Patty awoke onrlv with
the bright April morning, feel
ing sure something was going
to happen. Sim had heard High
Top Calvin, the king of the
flock, crow nine times at mid
night, and Lvmpftthy Limp,
the lame white pullet, was
cackling before sunrise. As
the moments passed, and Aunt
Patt.V began [Hitting on the gar
ments that lay so smooth and
orderly on a high-backed chair,
she felt surer and surer her con
victions would come true. She
put one stocking on wrong side
out, the right shoe on the left
foot, and skipped three holes in
lacing her stays. She tried
twice to put both arms into one
sleeve of her dress, and button-!
ed it by leaving two holes at the
top with no buttons, and two j
buttons at tho bottom with no I
holes. She could no longer■
still her reasoning, but burst j
out, —
“Patty Prentice, you arc n
fool!”
Just as she had got the re
fractory buttons into place i
there came a prolonged knock !
at the porch door below.
“Oh, dear me!” she said,)
“what’s coming now? Some
body must bo dead.”
Her thoughts and tongue ran I
swiftly as she tried to untie the j
night-cap strings that in her
hurry had got into a hard knot, j
“P’raps it’s Deacon Hopkins’j
wife. Belinda Johnson said J
last night the doctor said she
couldn’t pull through; or may-j
be it’s Martha .Tames’ husband’s
mother; she's awful feeble. Or
what if it slioufd be Joe Back
us’ boy Jim! He always throws
a stone at Sancho every time he
passes here”—Sancho is her cat
—“They say Jim’s likely to get
killed any time ”
Aunt Pally had conquered
the strings and hung the cap
on the lied post. She started
down the narrow stairs, still
thinking of Sancho’s persecu
tor, and repeating, “The Lord
gave and the Lord hath taken
away: blessed be the name of
the Lord.”
She crossed the kitchen and
reaching the porch moved aside
'rom the door the wood box with
its pile of tin pans. Aunt Patty
had not the protection of a man
n the house. “But tiff pans
make as much noise as a man,
any time,” she said, “and per
haps are at good in protecting.”
She slid back the bolt, turned
the button, and asked anxious
ly.—
“What is it ?”
“Mover wants you to come
right over. Aunt Putty,” a child
ish voice said. “She’s got un
expected company. Don’t stop
co get any breakfast. I ain’t
had none, neiver. ”
“Unexpected company,” re
peats Aunt Patty. “I wonder
if the day will over come when
1 am not at the beck and call
■f ev> rybody's company and
piicd-up mending basket .’’ But [
-he reaches out, puts the child’s j
head, and kindly savs, “Well,
come in, Johnnie, and you can |
-at some doughnuts while I’m
getting ready.”
Her doughnuts aro known to|
. v-ry ehi'd in the village; they
ire a generous kind, or, as the
■hild r» 'll say, ‘not all hole.’ It
is a bright gleam of sunshine
in her lonely life that children l
lovo her, and many childish
-orr ws and wrongs are soothed
by her ready sympathy and the
contents of the uever-empty
tin box in the square cupboard.
Aunt Patty.is soon ready, for
she is not a precise old maid
who must leavy everything at
au exact angle. She often says,
“There are old maids from com
pulsion, and old maids from
choice, and I am a sort of be
twixt ami between.”
But many of the village pen
pic remember the lover of Aunt
Put ty. s girlhood, and often over
the tea cups has the prediction!
been given—'
“They’ll both get tired ol
living alone, and make it all |
up. You see if they don’t.”
Jolumie feeds the liens while
Aunt Patty puts Sancho’s break
fast under the doorstep, with
the always added admonition —
“Now, Suncho, if you see Jim
Backuscomiug, run right under
j the heu-houso.”
She closes the gate, ami stops
,to look at the lilac lmsh, and
thinks of the purple plumes
hidden so closely in the bright
I green buds.
“How kind Nature is to all
life entrusted to its care!” slm
| says; “and it never makes it
mistake.”
She thinks how sweetly (lie
birds sing, and how much of
life there is in tho bright spring
j morning. She finds herself
singing—
“lf it were always May. sweet
heart,
j If it were always May."
She stops suddenly, remem
bering the weight of nearly fifty*
years. But she cannot close
her eyes to tile swelling buds
and sweet awakening t hat .shows
;at every step along the road-
J side. They cross the narrow
bridge, and Johnnie, growing
impatient, runs ahead and
| calls, —
“Let us hurry, now. Aunt
; Patty, for mover‘is waitin’.”
She follows Johnnie into tlie |
! house, through the long entry,
land stops just at the parlor
I door to leave her bonnet and
: . I
shawl. She hears the child’.-j
voice—
“l didn’t tell! 1 didn’t tell!
Now, Uncle John, tliv me the
j candy.”
Mrs'. Hastings meets her at
| the door and says in a glad
; Voice, —
“Uncle .John has come hack,
Aunt Patty, and we want you j
here for a nice long day.”
She hears another voice speak
her name, she feels a warm
’’hand clasp hers, and like one
in a 1 1 ream she enters the room.
She hears the quest ions and re
plies, but nil sound far away—
only Johnnie’s happy voice,
seems real.
“You ain’t got to ,l,> tinllin
today Aunt I’attv —nut
mend, nor nufFui’. Mover -aid
-n—didn't -die, I'nclc John
“Unless she will nu nd a bro
ken life,” lie slowly answer?.
“1 dess she can,” savs John
nie, “for mv working boss dot
his tail bowked 611, and she
stuckt it on jist as good as
ever.”
Aunt Patty takes the mend
ing basket, thankful for otua
to busy herself with its con
tents.
So the quiet spring day goer
on. Neighbors drop in to so
the wanderer. Talk of travels,
Western life, and many rhang
ing scenes she hoars, but hot
own heart is treading tin- patl
| that thirty years have made.
Many pictures were dim am
almost forgotten; but tod a'
the tires of memory are all light
ed, and every image is shown
in truthful outline. The hustj
words, the parting, the wuititq
and uncertainty, and then tie
lonely years.
The sunbeams had just laiW
to enter the west window a
Aunt Patty folded the last gar
ment and put the needles am:
thimble into the work hag. Sli*
spoke of Suncho and the hem
needing their supper, and hur
riedly put on her bonnet am
shawl.
.A tall form waits at the door
and together they walk dowi
the path, neross the bridge am’
along the country road. Th«\
talk but little. Each heart i
asking and answeriug its owi
questions. They enter tie* yard:
she closes the guto, and turning
to the road, they stand am
gaze at the picture. There i*
the green meadow below will
thi winding river, the blue hill
beyond, all softened with the
lights of spring sunset. Sh<-
sees it all tonight with a girl’s
clear eyes of long ago. H>
speaks her name; she turns t
see him standing with It cud
bowed and hands clasped.
“Patty,” he says, “will you
repeat the words you said her*
at the gut., thirty years ago:
‘You are all *to blame. Join
Hastings. 1 will never inarrt
you,’ and leave the never out ?’’
Her face shows a startled
look that changes to a lender
( smile, and soft ly sin* answers:
“i will leave the never out.”
And that’s what liap|s*iml.—
Exchange.
Small Sister— How do you
s ’pose peoples way up noit tee;
warm in de winter, Bobby?
Small Brother (scornfully)—
Why, wliut does you s’pose de
lur-twees is for?—Cincinnati
Commercial Tribune.
A voting lady refers to the
time she sju'iids in trout ot her
j mirror as “nionienits of reilec
1 tion.”
WHEN PEOPLE CATCH
COLD.
The "cold spots,” meaning
thereby the surface a lefts pecu
liarly susceptible to cold, are
principally the nape of the neck
.mi tlfe lower part of the back
of the head, the front of the
j abdomen and the shins. The
acute discomfort and the sense
of impending disaster w hich re
sult from the steady play of a
current of cold air upon the
neck from behind are well
known.
The necessity of keeping the
abdomen warmly clad is also
generally recognized, though
perhaps not as generally carried
into practice.
Curiously enough, few people
are conscious of the danger they
run by exposing the usually in
adequately protected shins to
currents of cold air. This is
the usual way in which colds
are caught on omnibuses. When
driving, one takes cure to cover j
the legs with a rug or water
proof, but an the more demo- 1
cratio conveyance ruggs are not j
often available, and the reek-;
less passenger by and by awak
ens to the fact that the iron lias;
entered into his soul —in other!
words, that he has “caught ;
cold."
People who wear stockings, j
such as highlanders, golfers nnd !
cyclists, invariably take the [ire
caution of turning the tlii**k
woolen material down over thet
shins, the better to protect them
against loss of heat, though in- j
cidentally the artificial embcll- j
ishment of the calves may not
lie altogether foreign to ilie ma
Denver. This is an instance of
iow all things work together!
nr good. It does not, ot course,
ol low because certain areas are
peculiarly susceptible to cold
that a chill may mu be convey
ed to the nervous system from
other points.
Prolonged sitting on a stone, !
•>r even on the damp gruss, is I
veil known to be a fertile source I
of disease, aud wet, cold feet
re also, with reason, credited!
with paving tlm wav to an early ;
grave.—London Medical Press.
NOVEL WEDDING CERE
MONY.
The novel spectacle of a man
and wqnmn dressed in bridal
costume riding on yoked bicy
cles up to a clergyman and go
ing through the form of mar
riage was witnessed by an audi
! ence of over 60<> curious people
|in the gymnasium of Temple
| College quite recently. Mr.
! and Mrs. George W. Robb, ac
| live members of Grace Baptist
church, whose happy wedded
ife is of eighteen years’ stand
ting, were the central figures in
the net, and they took their
.veddiug vows anew before their
pastor, Rev. Russell II Con
well,
The central part of the flour
was roped off, aud as Mr. Con
well took a position at one end
if the enclosed space a door at
the opposite end swung open
and a pair of daiutiiy-uttired
little flower-bearers rode forth
hi coupled wheels. After mak*
ing a few turns around the
arena, they were joined by five
sets of bridesmaids and ushers,
and finally by tin* bride and
groom, all similarly mounted.
The atteudiug couples were
Louis Kirlin and Miss Marian
Neisser, Frank Burt<> und Miss
Ada Tracey, Charles Briggs ami
Miss Ola Hiunim 11, Frederick
Wishart and Miss Olive Logan,
Llewellyn Propert and Mrs.
Frederick Wishart. Tin* (low
er-bearers were Master Harrison
Karens and Miss Edna Winter.
Pink cycling suits, with leg
git,s and jaunty caps to match,
added to the charms of tin* fair
maids. Their escorts wore
knickerbockers ami had pink
carnations on their coats. The
bride and groom wore white cos
tumes und rode on white ma
chines, she carrying a big bunch
of chrysanthemums and In* dis
playing a big bunch of red and
1 1 1 tie ou the lapel of his coat.
Slowly they circled about ami
then lined up in front of the
minister, dismounted, and the
pledges of eighteen years before
were renewed —Philadelphia
Record.
T*aeher—llow old ur*' you,
Willie ?
Willie—l'm live at home, six
at school and four in the ears
* tUysus Tabules.
THE BITTER BIT.
Ina I’m 11 man ra ron the Man
chester, Sheffield and Lincoln
shire railway, the other week, a
young traveler not iced an old
white-haired gi-ntiemnn trying
to get into a light dust-coat.
I The. young man nftlied to his
assistance, and in helping him
• with the garment noticed a
: a good-sized whiskey ilusk pro
truding from one of the pock
ets. Being of a waggish nature,
he appropriated the bottle,
helped the stranger on with his
coat, nnd.thcn pulling out the
Mask said, “Will you lake a
drink ?”
The old man did not recog
nize the bottle, aud drawing
himself up, remarked rather
severely:
“No, sir. 1 never drink.”
“It won't hurt you,”insisted
the wag. “It’s the best.”
“Young man,” sail I the old
gentleman, speaking loud
enoughjfor all in the carriage to
hear, “if you persist in drink
ing whiskey yon w ill be a ruined
manat forty. It is the curse!
of the land. When 1 was a boy j
my mother died, and the last;
thing she did was to <-nll me to)
her* bedside and say, ‘John,
promise me that you will never
touch a drop of liquor.’ ”
“Oh, well, in that ease,” said
the joker, “I must drink it my-1
self," and suiting the action to
the words, lie pulled out the
cork nnd took a good drink.
A moment later lie dropped!
the bottle, nnd with an excla
mation which certainly did not •
sound like a blessing, yelled
out: “Ugh,ugh! My mouth’s
all raw!”
Then it was the old gentle
man discovered his loss, and to
the amusement of the other
passe tigers said: “Ah. young
man, you will be earetul in lu
ture before you lake other peo
ple’s property. lam Dr. ,
ami that lioti le contained some
quinine and iron for my pa-;
limits.”
The young man got out at
the next station.
HE RAISED THEM.
A few nights ago a miner
fruin the North who hud lately
sold a claim, had money to
hum, and was in an incendiary
mood, conn* dowu to Spokane
to make the currency bonfire.
lie was rather rusty looking
when lie struck Spokane, but he
was hungry, and before going
to a barber shop or hath, drop
ped into an up-town restaurant
to get something to eat. There
was hut one waiter, anti he,
busy carrying champagne to a
party at another table, paid lit
tle attention to the hard-looking
miner. Finally the waiter was
called over, when the miner
said:
“See here, kid 1 Do I eat?”
“Sorry, 1 can’t wait on you
now,” was the prompt reply,
“hut the gentlemen there have
just ordered a flfty-dollar din
ner.’'
“Fifty-dollar dinner he
hanged ! Rring me $10(1 worth
of ham and eggs and he <|uick
about it ! Do 1 look look like
a guy who can he bluffed by a
mess of popinjays ?”
He was waited upon prompt
ly.—Spokane (Wash.) Review.
BRIGHT BITS.
H**—Would your mother let
you g*> to the theatre without a
chapel one?
She —Not unless 1 was en
gaged .
Itrow'ii—\\ Init is the nature
of the proposed amendment to
the Ramus law?
Jones—lt provides that, in
addition to calling a saloon a
[hotel, the bartender must he
known ns a chef. l'uck.
l*o«t—*l<et nif It'll you, sir,;
tliut | mm'iii cost in#* h week's!
hard labor.
Kill tor (who lias nail ii) —ln,
that all all ? If I’ll have lmil
thepunting ofjthe s##nt<*tiOf you’ll
huve got a month —Tit-Bit*.
Cabana—Pel ymi know v'iior
tioim hail applied for a |»#*n
sion?
Lovell—No; oi, what ground*.
Cabana—Say* lie luisstruincd
Ida lung* yelling for war with
Spain.—Philadelphia North
American.
He wu* about a* blank a> the
traditional uee of spudes, anil
two ducky damsels, each of
whom claimed the right to call
him husband, sat holt upright
in the court room and glared at
the defendant.
“Yo'r honor,” *aid the pris
oner, 1- f want to apply for a
change of vellll* in tin* ease.”
“(>ll what ground*'.'” inquired
tin* court
”1 want a change of veiitt*,”
re pea tad the defendant, “be
cause one of tlese women is prej
udiced ug’iu me,”—Troy Time*.
1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE
Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U. S. Gov’t Report
Absolutely pure
M‘CrLLAGH‘S NEW WORD,
I* rom St. Louis GlobfoDt'ino
crat.
The word “gabfest," now met
with Iso frequently m newspa
per columns, was invented by
the late Joseph B. McCullagh,
and.liist used inn Glolie-Deiiio
jeratjmragraph early last year.
I It was rapidly adopted through
•out the county. A study of
! the words coined by Mr. McCul
lagh andlnowlajpart of the En
glish language wherever it is
tisedlwould show that he posses
; -ed the exceedingly rare faculty
lof making n new that would
; last.
A thousand literary men have
j failed in this feat where one has
!succeeded.
OUT OF HIS LINE.
The commercial editor of the
• Daily Bread having been taken
; suddenly ill, tile ji ke editor as
sisted in tile compilation of the
animal trade review, says the
Chicago Tribune. As a result
ot his first half day’s skirmish
ing about town he turned in the
following:
“Broom dealers have made
some seeping changes in their
business. Those who have been
able to get in on the ground
lloor, however, have gathered
considerable dust during the
the year. Straws show which
way the wind blows.
“Blacksmiths have had hard
pounding to keep even, and
have.by no means a shoer thing
for the coming year. With
many of them it has been horse
and horse.
“Butchers make no bones of
declaring tlie fat to be in the
fire. One of them gave th« re
porter a roast, and tried to
chuck him out of doors. He
accused him of trying to ascer
! tain tho size of the steak lie hud
made out of tho business.
“The saloon business has been
misuustactory, in a measure,
the majority of the customers
being chronic growlers.
“Rubber deab-rs report a good
year, but complain that the
business lias besn inflated. Some
id them are tired of this.
“Elevator manufacturers
have had a year of ups and
downs, but they know the ropes
and hope to pull through.
“There has been strong oppo
sition in the butter business,
and losses have completely cow
ed many dealers.
“In the produce line it may
he stated briefly that overpro
duction has taken tho starch
out of the potato crop. Carrots
uml onions are in the soup.
"Dealers in fruit claim they
have done buniness at a loss, no
matter what the liggers may
show. There hasn’t banana
profit in apples, and everything
in the grape line has gone to
seed.
“Manufacturer* of cheap ci
gar* are in a bad box. They
complain of a luck ot confidence
They arc in bad odor with the
general public.
“Furniture di aler* have done
fairly well sofa, ami hope to do
hotter u* the season advance*.
Homo of the new style* of hall
furniture for this year’* trade
| arc very hatractive.”
“There i* one thing evident,”
growled the city editor, a* he
, ran hi* eye over the manuscript
and gruhhed his blue pencil.
"There ha* been an overpro
duction in the chestnut crop.”
SOMKTHING TO KNOW.
It may ho worth something i
to know that the very best mod- ;
icino for restoring the tired out ;
nervous system to a healthy vig
or is Kieotric Hitters. This
medicine is purely vegetable,
acts by giving tone to the nerve
centres ni the stomach, gently
stimulates tile Liver and Kid
neys, and aids these organ* in
throw ing off impurities hi the
blood Klectric Hitters im
proves the appetite, aids iliges
lion, and is pronounced by
those wiio have tried it as the
very boat blood puriller and
i nerve tunic. Try it. Hold for
ode or |l tto per bottle at A M.
Winn A Hon’a Drug Store.
• » «-
Oncofour builders was asked
the other day if a house of hi*
i erected was h s last. “Yes, my
last, but not leased.“
t Uipails Tabulss cm a LutilgssUuO.
SHREWD IN FINANCE.
All the great financiers of
this country, outside of poli
tics, do not live in New York,
says the Washington Star. One
of ie greatest of them, name
lees here forever more, lives in
more ur less regal splendor on
Capitol Hill. That is to s:*.y,
lie lives in regal splendor when
he is asleep'aud the rest of the
time it is pretty much boarding
house, except when the mother
ol his best girl takes more pity
on him than she ever will after
he is married, and asks him to
take dinner at her house.
About a week ago this finan
cial Mnchiavelli sat in a poker
game with a young man whose
reputation for not paying any
kind of a bill is wider than the
District of Columbia at its
widest part, and he won $75
from him. for which lie gave
his check.
Our Machiavelli from Capitol
Hill didn’t want to take the
check, because lie lmd heard
how previous checks had not
been available, as there wasn’t
quite enough money in bank to
meet them, and there was usu
ally a squabble which didn’t
declare any dividends worth
mentioning. Hut he had to
take the check, or nothing, and
when he had taken it lie- -at
down to think. When morning
came he had thought, and as
soon as the bank was open he
was there with his check for
$75.
“There’s not enough money
to meet it,” said the paying
teller.
“I supposed not,” smiled and
bowed the holder of the check,
“and 1 was instructed to make
up the difi'erence. so if you will
he kind enough to tell me what
it is 1 'll tix it.”
He was informed that the
balance was s(ii! and the Machi
avelli at once deposited sl!{ to
the credit of his friend and then
presented the check, w hich was,
of course, honored,'and he came
out of the hank just soi’ ahead
and no bother to anybody.
The best part rtf it was that
when the maker of the check
met him and lie told him that
a friend of his had deposited
enough money to his credit to
make hi- check good, he never
asked who the friend was. In
deed. ho never asked any ques
tions at all; he slumped and
kept his mouth shut.
PITH AND POINT.
Lives of wheelmen all remind
us
Wc may make ourselves sub
lime,
And in scorching leave behind
us
The policeman every time.
Mr*. Slowpay (enthusiastic
ally)— Isn’t my new bounet a
pnein .’
Mr. Slowpay (regarding the
unpaid lull) —Yes, dearest, uu
extended owed.
Keggy—Dearest, if I were far
far away, could you still love
llle ?
Angeiine—Why, Peggy, what
a question! l‘m sure the far
ther you were awav the better
I should love you.
Suporcum Flop-Wbat do you
suppose Kdgar Haltus means by
speaking of n girl as a ‘perfect
rhyme
Snpercuin Flip—l don’t know
unloss she was averse to him.
Johnnie llardii|> —This pros
perity yawp in the newspapers
is making all kinds of trouble
for me.
Charlie Slow pay—How so ?
J. H.—Well, f‘d like* to know
what kind of a song and dan
1 can give my landlord this
month.
Dealer—l’viLquit selling bi
cycle* on the installment plan.
Applicant—Why’s that ?
Deab.r—Onr machine is of
such a superior quality that we
are never able to catch the fel
lows that owe us.
S|mils —I was introduced l**f
night to Helm’s wife, and she
has a wonderful command of
language.
Bocratoot*-She ought to have
for she won the tirut prize in a
word-building competition.
*
Mamma—Hobby, I heard you
were a very naughty boy today.
Now, teil me all about it.
Hobby (with a sudden access
of modesty)—Teacher says it
isn’t polite to talk too much
I about yourself.
Pat—l tdl you the tiuid
frinds am always the best, after
all, and I can prove it,
Denis—How ?
Put —Where’ll you find anew
| friend that has shtood by you
a# long as the old <>ue* have (
Kiyuiua i« toils*. ousglvss rwlMi.