Charlton County herald. (Folkston, Ga.) 1898-current, December 24, 1908, Image 2

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GUESSING SONG, 8 . e —— We are very, very many, and although so small we be, With our numbers we are able to control the mighty sea. ; You may tread on us at pleasure, but ve member, as you go, That we keep a ‘faithful record of your - passing to and fro. So, if you are bent on mischief, kindly go some other way; Let us have no guilty secrets to conceal or to betray; For il pleases us far bet{er when we share yvour lawful sports And you pile us up and shape us into monuments and forts, Answer—~The sands of the seashore. ~Henry Johnstone, St. Nicholas. !- A LECTURE. § Q—\ z r—-t S CETRERES YR R ORI W Greece Describe 1 to the ' Inhabitants of Walla ! < Walla, ;. = R ISR AR G BRTRETIED WD @ The man who had been everything but a barber and a policeman was narrating things, “When I first struck Walla Walla, back in the autumn of '86,” he said, “I found that town a whole heap more prosperous than I was. After I'd been there for a couple of weeks, with nothing doing, I began to re flect that if something didn’t happen pretty soon I'd find myself bogged or vagged or something, “In a moment of confidential gloom I imparted my tale of woe to the landlord of my hotel, with whom 1 happened to be all square-yards, for the reason that I'd had the prescience and foresight to pay my board with my last kale two weeks in advance upon hitting the town, ‘“ ‘Now you needn't he surpriged a whole lot,” I told the good natured landlord, ‘if I stick your night elerk up one of these nights and take to the chaparral with whatever small change he happens to have in the till. I'm all in, and I don't see anybody in iWalla Walla making feather beds from the moldings of the angels around here. How about a bell hop’s billet, if you expect me to remain ‘honest, or a berth as head bootblack of your doggoned old tavern?’ "It was at this stage of it that that whole souled innkeeper of Walla Walla got busy in framing up a scheme in my behest and behalf. * ‘Never done no lecturin’, have you, buddy?’ he asked me. ‘‘Seeing that he was taking an in terest in me, I thought that I might as well be on the level with him, and 80 I told him, candidly, that, curi ously enough, I had never been en gaged in the lecture field, “*Well, that ain’t sayin’ that you couldn’t gpin ’em a talk, s'posin’ the chanst swung your way, suggested the landlord. ‘Now, I've got tucked away in the cellar a lot o’ lantern slides—picters o' Greece, ancient an’ ‘modern, is what they're labelled— that was left here a couple o' years ago by a lecturin’ son of a skunk that never got sober 'nough th’ hull time he was in an’ around Walla Walla t' onreel his talk, although he adver tised his lecture four or five times, never pullin’ it off. He was plumb loco from booze all th’ time he were here, and he disapp’inted th’ popu lation so often, after promisin’ t’ d’liver his lecture, that the las' time he falls down on 'em they gits t'geth er an’ runs him out o’ camp, an' he never streaks back no more. Conse- Quent, I'm th’ heir an’ assign forever 0’ these yere slides o' hig'n that por tray all what is 'bout ancient and modern Greece. Now, there's your tip, hombrey, and you can work the rest of it out f'r y'rself. You're wel come t' use them slides if you want to, an’ I'll guarantee you'll draw a houseful with 'em, and that the boys Il behave; they'll have to, ’cause they'll be ladies present. I'll see that everybody in Walla Walla what's broke t' lectures 'll be on hand.’ “I suppose maybe there wasn't manna in that kindly suggestion. I thanked the landlord, and he had the bunch of slides brought up from the cellar and dusted off, ‘‘He not only had the slides, but he had the recreant lecturer's magic lan tern and all the rest of the gear, all ready to be set up and put together for the lecture. I looked the slides over and found that they were a cork. ing fine lot of views. J “I got a property man from the new Walla Walla op'rey haouse who knew all about magic lantern gear to assemble the stuff and try it out against a screen in the hotel dining room after the supper had been cleared away, and it all worked on tallowed skids. “Then with the landlord backing me up I rented the op'rey haouse for the following Saturday evening—it was then Tuesday—and inserted an on tick ad. in the newspaper to the effect that Euripides Aristophanes ‘Athenesius, the famous traveler and professor of the University of Athens, | would deliver his noted lecture on an clent and modern Greaee at the opera house on the following Saturday eve ning, with the finest set of views il lustrative of his subject that had ever been got together, ‘““The landlord, who was consider able of a citizen in 'Walla Walla, got busy plugging for me, and when the tickets were put on sale at the drug store they went like hot waflles near a city cab stand. The lantern was set up and the slides were thrown on the screen in a rotation rehearsal, and Saturday morning it oceurred to me that it wouldn't be such a bad idea for me to think up something to say to go with the pictures. “I had never been any nearer to Greece than Sandy Hook, but I wasn't bothered much by that consideration. 1 didn’t stand in much fear that the | Walla Walla folks would be sticklers for the exact figures as to ancient and modern Greece, ; “And, as a matter of fact, they wern’t. The lecture I gave them was all right and it went through with a clatter. I spread it on pretty thick about the conquering hosts of Alex ander of Macedon, and I let them have plenty of ‘The Isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece, where burning Sappho loved and sung'—in fact, I think I handed them that quotation no less than nineteen times during the lecture, just to fill in the desert spaces. Sappho was always a great favorite of mine, anyhow. “I mentioned, too, quite a number of times, how the mountain looked on Marathon and Marataon looked on the gea, and I lugged in Aspasia and her friend Pericles, and did the best I knew to whitewash the little uncon ventionalities of those two. 1 de voted a few moments to Diogenes, as well as Socrates, and I kind o’ puz zled them and aroused their admira tion by dwelling upon the Peripatetic School of Philosophy — they didn’t know what I was talking about, and when a lecturer gets an audience in a state of mind like that their enthu siasm for him increases with each tick of the chronometer. ' “After it was over I counted up the gate receipts and found that there was $430 left for me after paying ex penses. I went back to the hotel in a fever and fervor of exultation., A squat, well dressed, curly haired man, with a swarthy skin and a thick black mustache, was talking with the landlord when I strolled into the ho tel office. The stranger turned andl smiled a very agreeable smile when ‘he saw me. ~ “‘My friend,’ he said to me, hold ing out his hand, ‘I congratulate you. ‘ I listened to your lecture. It was'— | and as he was a foreigner he halted i for a word—‘immense. When I re turn to my own country I am going! to give an {illustrated lecture on Ti-“ bet.’ ‘“‘Oh, you've been in Tibet, then?’ I said to him. ‘“‘Oh, no,’ he replied, still smiling that engaging smile. ‘That’s why I'm going to lecture on it.’ | ““That squat manwas a sure enough ‘ green tourist and scholar who had | just happened to drop into Walla‘ Walla in time to hear me lecture about Greece, The memory of hls{ saturnine grin is a nightmare to me ! yet.,”—Washington Star, { s —————————————— " e CURE FOR SNAKE BITE., ™ How Ranchman Treated a Wound When Far From a Settlement. Bitten by a rattlesnake in the calf of the right leg in the Santa Ana Mountains last Saturday, John Mc- Cornick, a rancher of Grapeland, saved his life by making an incision with his pocket knife and inserting a plece of the reptile's flesh in the wound. He bandaged it tightly and walked seven hours before he reached his ranch, where he could receive medical treatment, mPr. Summer J. Quint was called from'Los Angeles to attend McCornick., When he arrived he found that his patient was suffer ing from a slight poisoning, He de clares that McCornick saved his life by his own treatment. McCornick was hunting through serub oak when he felt a peculiar sting in his leg. He looked down and saw the snake dragging on the ground as he walked. Its fangs had become fastened in his leggings and it was unable to withdraw them. With the butt of his gun McCor nick knocked the snake off and then crushed its head with his heel. As quickly as possible he ran into the open and carried the snake with him. When he bared his leg he squeezed all the blood he could out of the two punctures which the fangs had made. Then he opened a gash, cutting through the two wounds and letting out the blood and poison. He cut a plece of flesh out of the snake's back and inserted it in the wound. McCornick used his handerchief for bandages and then tied his leg again Just above the knee to stop the poi son from working through his sys tem, McCornick was miles from any set tlement where he could secure medi cal attendance, so he started back to Grapeland. His leg pulsated with pain and he soon became deathly sick. In his weakened condition he was compelled to rest on the road time and again. When he finally reached home he was almost exhausted and his leg was dreadfully swollen and almost black. McCornick says that his treatment was famous among the Indifans for snake bites and he has known of a number of instances where its appli cation has saved lives.—Los Angeles Times. Never Worried Herself. : In declaring that she never knew her husband's first name Mrs. Esther Nieman, of Monroe street, created laughter at the central police court.. “I have always called him ‘Pop’' from the iirst day I married him, andl as he did not object I never worried myself about his first name,” said Mrs. Nieman, who had her husband arrested on the charge of failing to support her, The accused husband by direction of the magistrate was induc>d to tell his wife his full name. “Certainly, I'm glad to do it,” re marked the defendant, “but I think my wife has known right along that I am Jacob Nieman."—Philadelphia ‘lnqulrer. e ey ———— Sy } Provoking. ‘ “Dear me,” said Mrs. Podgerson, “I do wish you'd quit botherin’ me when' I'm writin' letters. You've gone and made me leave the o out of Sylvester,"~Chicago Record-Herald, & Good Tips For Farmers. Some Valuable Especially For New England---Thorough Investigation by Expert in the Bureau of Plant Industry ---Dairy Outlook Not So Satisfactory as Heretofore--- Difficuities Due to High Price of Feed and Labor---Grass Lands Mismanaged---Reports From Farms---Crops De pend on Different Variations of One Rotation---New Kinds of Silage Corn Suggested. :-: b - A ] As a result of three years’ study |ot the most successful dairy farms | in New England, L. G. Dodge, scien | tific assistant in the farm manage i ment investigations of the Bureau of Plant Industry, has been able to re port to the bureau a series of criti cisms and suggestions which farmers may find of practical use. The in | formation is timely, for although | dairying has been a profitable busi | ness in New England, conditions have changed in recent years, and the out ‘look is said to be not as satisfac ! tory as it has been in the past. Some | of the present difficulties are due to J the high prices of concentrated feeds ' and of labor. Some sections of New . England, furthermore, says M ' Dodge, feel the pressure of unsu&- factory market conditions, especial? those sections which ship milk to t¥e large cities, where the farmers are ~offered a price for their milk on - which they can hardly make a profit. - According to Mr. Dodge the fact that grass is so much at home in New England States has led to a serious fault in New England dairy farms, namely, the mismanagement of grass lands. This consists chiefly of a lack of proper treatment for permanent grass lands and of suitable rotation for other lands, as well as for the use of grass growing on land which does not give profitable returns from grass and should be devoted to tree growth, either as woodland or orchards. An other fault quoted is that of cutting the hay crop too late in the season, Mr. Dodge also notes the failure to utilize the land for other crops available for that section, especially corn, In southern New England he finds little difficulty in growing good silage corn, but as one travels north ward there is evidence of a lack of suitable varieties of corn for this pur pose. -In all but the most northern counties in New England, Mr. Dodge believes, varieties of silage corn can be grown. What is most needed, he says, is to give sufficient attention to the selection of suitable seeds. Hon. C. L. Jones, of Penobscot County, Me., raises all the roughage and some of the grain for foriy head of ecattle, four horses and twenty sheep on forty acres of tillage, and spares from this area three or four acres for potatoes every year. About twelve acres of flint corn are grown each year for silage, nearly as much small grain, a mixture of oats and barley, and the remainder of the for ty acres, aside from the j : devoted to hay. The rotation com: prises one year of corn, one of small grain, one of clover hay, and part of the land is run for mixed hay a sec ond year. The land is seldom left in hay for more than two years before it is again plowed up for corn, mak-| ing either a three year or a four year rotation, The manure is mostly applied in the late summer and fall with a ma nure spreader, both as a top dressing to the new seeding or other grass land and to the land to be used for corn the next year. It is applied at the rate of ten loads per acre for either purpose. The seeding is done with the grain in the spring. Mam moth clover is seeded at the rate of twelve to fourteen pounds to the acre, with two or three pounds of redtop and four quarts of timothy, The result of the short rotation, the frequent manuring, and the heavy seeding is a crop of three tons of hay to the acre at one cutting. Other crops yield in proportion, so that this farm furnishes feed for so large a number of stock that it seems un reasonable to the average dairyman. Another farm described is that of Professor J. W, Sanborn in New Hampshire, consisting of some 400 acres of tilled land suited to frequent plowing and rapid rotation, besides 100 acres of permanent meadow and another 175 acres of permanent pas ture. The 400 acres of easily plowed land are put in a rotation as follows: Corn, one year; peas and oats for hay, one year; clover for hay, two cuttings, one year; potatoes to sell, one year; Hungarian millet for hay, one year; timothy for hay to sell, two years, and then omne year for pasture. The hay from the whole of the cleared land in 1894, when Professor Sanborn took the farm, amounted to 112 tons. In 1905 the yield was 800 tons, this increase being accomplished by frequent plowing of the land and frequent applications of manure, which serves to illustrate on a large scale what has been shown already in other places in New England, namely, that land which ecan be plowed conveniently and is therefore adaptable to a rapid rotation can by this kind of treatment generally be made to produce the roughage nec essary to keep a cow for each acre, at least, if it be supplemented with pasture for part of the summer feed of the cow. The fundamental principle on which Professor Sanborn is working is that it is fully as much the amount of milk or butter produced per acre which counts as it is the amount per cow, and he is develop ing the land accordingly. To build up a dairy farm on a small acreage, of course, it becomes necessary to leave out the potatoes and hay to sell and to devote all of the tilled land to the support of the herd. In the vicinity of Boston, rye sown September 10 is ordinarily fit to cut for feed May 15 and lasts until about June 5. Winter wheat and vetch sown September 20 is fit to feed from June 5 to July 1, and any left over makes good hay. Oats and peas sown first April 18 will be fit to feed by July 1, and successive seedings, even up to July 1 on low land, will furnish green feed until September 1. It the later seedings must ke omitted for lack of suitable land, green corn planted May 15 will fill the gap until the frost comes., Barley sown from June 20 to August 15 in successive lots will furnish feed for September and October, Under any other cir cumstances than those described it does not seem economical to follow this system, for summer feeding of silage saves the daily labor of cut ting and hauling a green crop on any farm where there is land enough to use for growing good clover hay in a rotation with silage corn. The methods which are to be gen erally recommended to dairymen in New England for the producing of feed apply equally to much of the State of New York, at least to all the eastern portion of it. They are brief ly as follows: In the first place, all land which can be used at all in such a manner should be kept in a short rotation, not more than three or four or, at the most, five years long. This should bring the time which any piece of land is used for hay before replowing down to two or three years at the most. This short rotation gives more clover in the hay, since clover is short lived, only good for two years from the time of seeding, at best. Tke clover not only im proves the quality of the hay, but when hay is grown for three years, increases the yield of the hay crop for a year after the clover is gone. llf cut for hay only two years, the clover materially aids the yield of corn or other crop which immediately fol lows it. If, as is often the case, a good catch of clover is not easily obtained, the land should be limed, for too much acidity in thc soil seems to be the greatest drawback to clover cul ture in New England. Land plaster, wood ashes, or fertilizers containing much potash contribute to the same end. The only precaution to be uh-« W a farm where potatoes are an important crop, for then one must be cautious about lim ing; potato scab may thereby be in creased. In that case a fertilizer high in potash, such as is used for potatoes, does much to improve the clovér crop. The chief difficulty in growing si lage corn in northern New Englond is in getting a suitable variety, and farmers are strongly urged to take advantage of such new varieties of silage corn as may be offered for trial by the agricultural experiment sta tions of their respective States or by the United States Department of Ag riculture, and also to select their own seed in order to improve it. In the most northern sections, such as northern Maine, where corn is out of the question and potatoes fill the place of corn in a rotation, silage can still be made from Japanese mil let or other crops and succulent win ter feed thus provided. Clover and Italian rye grass are successfuliy used for silage in the State of Washing ton. This combination is worthy of trial in northern Maine. It should be noted that all, or near 1y all, of the cropping systems that have been mentioned here are de pendent on different variations of one rotation. Several different rotations may compose the system on any farm, and one rotation may follow anoth er on the same field, or different fields may be used continuously in different rotations. The rotations, however, are based on the one so common in many localities—that is, corn, small grain, grass. Corn may be replaced by potatoes, and that is very profitably done in the potato districts or in the most northern counties of New England, where corn fails. The small grain may be left out and the grass (and clover) seed ed in the corn, or corn may be grown two years, instead of one. Tie number of years of hay grow ing may vary from one to five, and the small grains may be used as grain or go to supplement or enrich the supply of hay. Even the rotations for a soiling system are usually based on the same foundation, the crops for solling coming after corn, two of them frequently being grown in a year, and then the land put back to corn again, The essentials of the New England dairyman in growing feed for his cows appear to he the use of short rotation wherever possible; all the clover hay and corn silage that can be grown; liming the land for clover, if need be better management, es pecially in the use of manure, of land which is not fit for short rotations; and the utilizing of the various other crops that have been mentioned to fill the gaps with succulent feed or add in quantity and quality to the ordinary hay crop.—W. E. 8., in the Beston Transcript, .e. .. eARWy = T e e T ATTRIBUTE CRIME TO TUBERCULOSIS. Philadelphia Scientists Dezclare " the Disease Affects Both Mind and Morals. /"~ Fil That insanity, criminal and izimor al tendencies, idiocy or an entire re versal of the previous mental poise and moral standard are conditions that may accompany tuberculosis either in its incipient or chronie stages science has now asserted to be a certainty, Dr. Lawrence F. Flick, expert tu berculosis physician, and Dr. D. J. McCarthy, expert eriminologist, have just made known remarkable discov eries that have resulted from inves tigations they have been making for several years at the Henry Phipps In stitute for the treatment, study and prevention of tuberculosis. ~ According to the new discovery, it is said by the physicians, even devout - persons may become immoral, honest ‘men turn thieves, optimists become pessimists and healthy minded men - become almeost inebriates with little or no sense of moral responsibility. And these conditions may “ake place long before any sign of tuberculosis is apparent. Dr. McCarthy is not yet willing to state positively to science the cause of this change in mental condition. He thinks it is not so much that the tubercle bacilli attack the brain tis sues, as that it is due to the produc tion of mental and nervous exhaus tion consequent upon the ailment. “‘Lioss of sleep is an important fac tor,” Dr. McCarthy says, “but it may also be due to either a lack of prop er blood supply to the brain or by interference with the functions of the heart. “The impoverished state of the blood is partly responsible for the de lusions and hallucinations experienced by so many tuberculosis patients. Dreams assume such real proportions in the patient’s mind that they often regard them as communicated from heaven. ““A case under my personal obser vation for years showed delusions ac companied by various homicidal at tempts. Another case was that of a man who developed insanity almost a year before tuberculosis made its first appearance. Yet an autopsy af ter death showed that the lung dis ease had begun before the insanity symptoms showed themselves. “Patients sometimes insist that they are able to see and speak with relatives who have long been dead. While in the House of Rest, in New York City, one man, who subsequent ly became one of our patients, insist ed ta?t poison was being placed in his Tood. He attempted to aSsault and threatened to kill the superin tendent. “Still another patient claimed that he was in the habit of receiving com munications from his father, whom we afterward found had veéen dead for several years. Another insisted that his dead father came to his room at all hours of the day and night and wrote messages on the walls by means of a piece of straw. ‘““Another victim saw queer piec tures when awake and one woman was continually calling our attention to a procession of people dressed all in white which seemed to appear con stantly before her.” | Man Yelled After Death. ~ Henry Gaheen, of Nevis, Minn., fell asleep on the railroad track of the “Red River Lumber Company, north ~of Akeley, and was struck and.run over by the Great Northern logging train yesterday. Gaheen was hor ribly mangled and died at the Union Hospital, where Drs. Irish and Low thian were endeavoring to restore the pulsation. When the mangled body arrived at the hospital the man was crying aloud with pain, yet the doctors say there was no pulsation of the body. The cries were the result of previous will and nerve power or impulse before the pulses ceased to beat. The cries of the unfortunate man were not the result of will or _conscious volition, but the consequent result of previous thought and will power before death. Every possible means was used to restore life, but in vain. The body was interred at Nevis to-day by friends and relatives. —Duluth Herald. From Different Standpoints. “How we are misunderstood,” said Blanche Walsh, “in an unsympathetic world. I overheard two chamber maids in my hotel discussing a guest the other day. “‘He's a very finicky, fussy gene tleman,’ said the first. “ ‘lndeed, you're right he is,’ the other agreed warmly. ‘He caught me using one of his razors one morning to pry open a stiff window with, and he kicked up an awful row. Some folks hate a bit of fresh air.’” Always Safe, “I want to provide for my grand son,” said the old man, “but stocks may depreciate and securities go to smash. How do I know what will be good a decade from now?” ‘“You might legve a few thousand tons of coal in trust,” suggested the family lawyer. — Louisville Courier- Journal, it Trying to Shut Her Out. ‘“Conductor,” complained the lank spinster passenger, ‘‘that man in the opposite seat is winking at me!” ‘““He says he doesn’t mean to wink at you,” explained the car official. ‘““‘He’'s trying to keep the eye that's turned toward you shut, ma'am,”=w Judge, —~— o gy P N oR R L mfl e [Vany fellew? (‘ > ;\;\ == 3';—’:»3"-(}:#\‘ j = //{.&Z} 3 NI (e U What Boots It? 1 “ - y 3 ” lE{n gt()yutt}l‘ly‘g)a:rsteolxgtc;otlx)’head, : “¥or by that act, and that alone, Shall it remain with you.” ML Alas! Alack! the youth did so! % | But one day—so ’tis said— . He met a winsome, bright-eyed maid, And promptly lost his heacf.! ~ —The Bohemian, Laisd Stingy. Her Husband—“ Why are you so distant?” . His Wife—"“Because you are so close,”—Cleveland Leader. VT ety AN U 2 “Hurry up, Tommy!” called moth er from downstairs. “We're late now, Have you got your shoes on?” “Yes, mamma—all but one.”—a Everybody’'s Magazine. A Royal Joke. “Who waits without?” asked his nibs. “A" creditor with a bill, your majesty.” “Tell him to go without.”—Cleve land Leader. e —h ki Tact Behind the Counter,” "™ Lady (with scme hesitation)—“T ~—er—wish to look at some false fringes.” | Tactful Salesman — “Certainly, madam. What shade does your friend wish?”—Punch, : “7"" The New Religion. : Crier (in front of revival meeting), —‘“Save your soul, sir, for $2.” Passer-by—‘‘Up the street it’s only one-fifty.” Crier—" But we do it without pain,”’—Judge. : Eh, What's That? 4 “Shakespeare never repeated.” ’ “Then he couldn’t have lasted long as a press humorist,” declared one of that profession, “no matter what his other qualifications may have been.” —Pittsburg Post. f; ——— 1 5 He Knew. 25 Teacher—“ You have named all the domestic animals save one. It has bristly hair, it is grimy, likes dirt and is fond of mud. Well, Tom?” Tom (shamefacedly) — “That’s me,”—Philadelphia Inquirer. ' New Use of the Motor. He—*"Alice, you've been eating onions again?” g She—“ Yes, dear.” ! He—“ Well, come out with me in my motor car and see if I can’'t take your breath away.”—Tit-Bits. © - Over theé Welcphone. :jf" “Is this Dr. Smith?” Rinoßey “Yes.” “Well, this is Mrs. Jones. I wish ¥ou would come over as soon as con venient; my cuckoo clock has a little throat trouble.”—Harper’s Weekly, | % —— - 4 e The Tenant's Trouble. . “What’s the trouble now?” de manded the janitor. “More heat?” “No,” said the tenant of the latest skyscraper, “but I want those clouds pushed away from my windows.”"— Pittsburg Post. 5 Johnny's Answer. The Doctor—“ Now that you are going to school, Johnny, perhaps you can tell me what happens when an' irresistible force strikes an immova ble object.” “People send for you, doctor,”—s Life. i : Ideal Ammunition. ‘Please, Mr. Druggist, give me an other box es pills like those I got for papa yesterday.” : “Did they cure your papa?” 2 “I don’t know; but they go bully in my bean shooter.”—Fliegende Blaet ter, SEAE " Thrifty. B o “Well, parson, is your flock lib’ral in their 'nevolences?” “Liberal? Well, I should say dey, is not that. Why, when I asted them to sing ‘Ole Hundred’ dey done sung ‘The Ninety and Nine.’ "—Harper's Weekly. 77T Poor Old Dad. ] “Father, we're going to have a barn dance. The men are to wear. overalls and the girls gingham dresses,” “Well, for once you'’ve hit on some thing homely and sensible.” . “So glad you approve. Now, I want S6O to buy a gingham dress with."—Louisville Courier-Journal, | . T —— ~3 """ Early and Late. “You play the piano later every night,” gaid the visitor. “Yes,” answered the suburban resi dent, “we're trying to keep the peo ple next door up, g 0 that they will be too sleepy to mow the lawn in the morning; and they’'re trying to mow. the lawn so early that we mayn’t feel like playing at night.”—London News. P i e ; ~ No Work For Him. ““But,” sald the good old lady, “why don’t you go to work?” “Why, ma’'am,” began the disrepu table old loafer, “yer see, I got a wife an’ five children to support—" “But how can you support them :f you don’t go to work?” “As I was a-sayin’, lady, I got a wife an’ five children to support me.” «Catholic Standard and Times,