Newspaper Page Text
FRAUD IN CANNED GOODS.
,n the Way ot Advice to the
gometbtos who Use These Goods.
parties
Th & News' Letter, of San Francisco,
lhas been carrying on a •warfare against
dishonest canned goods, ca.lwg to its
y the skill of chemists whose analyses
been made without knowing who
liave of the goods analyzed.
were the packers the cheap com¬
The paper showed how
pounds attacked start from a base ot
vegetable substance, and are then col
d and flavored in simulation of dif¬
ore dyes and flavors being
ferent fruits, the
chemicals. A distinction was
made between adulterations and frauds,
the former being admixtures of cheap
•foreign substances with fruit products,
-the latter compounds contaning nothing
of the fruits they purport to be. The
latter class embraces. blackberry and
currant juice, and currant, lemon, and
orange jellies. To make Bure of their
ground in attacking a particular firm of
canners in San Francisco, the News
Letter publisher bought a pot of
“orange-blossom honey” and a can of
“table peaches’' of the fraudulent brand
and, after concealing the label, sub¬
mitted the goods to a skilled chemist for
analysis. The “honey” was found to
be composed of the following substances,
100 being assumed as a basis: Glucose
56.5. water 25.0, honey 150, sugar 3.5,
that is, only 15 per cent, of the stuff was
honey, the substance which the com¬
pounders advertised the whole to be. In
the case of the peaches the chemist
seems to have found not enough basis
for a numerical exhibit. He simply
said: “I find the peaches in a very bad
condition, a mere mass of pulp. The
can contained a very small quantity of
saccharine liquid consisting principally
of glucose.” The commercial evidence
against fraudulent canners as presented
bv the News Letter is peculiarly con¬
vincing. The cost to pack “straight”
or honest goods is given as follows:
24 pounds of (say) raspberries and
sugar at 8 cents per pound..... $1 92
1 dozen cans.................... 34
1 case costs 14 cents, equals per
dozen cans.................... 07
Labels, per dozen............... 04
Cooking and labor, per dozen.... 05
’Weighing and capping, per dozen 02
Labelling and casing............ 01
Actual cost per dozen cans. $2 45
When sold at $2 70 per dozen, there¬
fore, “straight” canned fruits, in two
pound cans, give the packer a profit of
10 per cent., which is a fair work¬
ing profit on the business. Sold at $2 45
per dozen, they simply cover cost. Sold
at $1 75 to $1 90 per dozen, which are
the prices fixed by some canneries,
either there is a loss of 59 cents to 70
cents on every dozen cans of fruit sold,
or glucose has been substituted for
sugar, and some other vegetable base
for the alleged fruit.
The Hearing of School Children.
The medical journals indorse, without
exception, the suggestion made by Dr.
Well, in the Archives of Otology, based
on his examination of the ears and hear¬
ing of nearly 6,000 school children,
namely, that in every case of inattention
the child should have its ears examined,
so convinced is he of the fact that chil¬
dren who are simply hard of hearing are
often misjudged and considered inatten¬
tive. Indeed, such an examination, he
thinks, would be desirable once or twice
a year for every child, the test being
made in the school-room Itself if there
be no other room convenient; that is,
the teacher could place the pupil in one
corner of the room, then retire to the
other himself, and test each ear sep
arately by whispering—causing the
words and sentences used to be repeated
by the pupil, and thus easily find out
which of them are hard of hearing.
This, it is believed, would have the
further advantage of calling the atten¬
tion of parents to the condition of their
children, and inducing them to act
accordingly, or, what would be still
better, a surgeon should have the health
of the schools in charge, including the
examination of the ears of every pupil
whom the teacher finds inattentive.
Chain-Armored Girls.
Young lady—“Have yon chain
armor?” Storekeeper—“Chain armor?
We’ve got a few pieces that we keep as
curiosities—yes.” Young lady—“But I
want to purchase a suit, one, that will
fit me.” Storekeeper—“No doubt we
could make one for you; but pray, if I
ma y be so bold, what can you want
chain armor for?” Yonng lady—“I’ll
tell you. I met a young fellow at the
picnic the other day, and in the course
of onr conversation I foolishly invited
him to call. He is coming to-morrow
evening. Of course he will propose,
and of course I shall reject his addresses;
for really, I don’t like him. Hence yon
see that it will be necessary to have my
chain armor in season. ” Storekeeper—
“Pardon me, but I don’t quite see the
connection.” Young lady-“Why, when
I say ‘No,’ he will draw his pistol and
shoot me; for, yon know, he loves me
witn a pure, unselfish love that is past
expression. Unless I have my armor
I shall probably be killed.’’—ffosfon
Transcript.
It is somewhat unfortunate that tht
bank cashier never commits suicide un¬
til he has wrecked the bank. What the
country wants is a species of cashier
who will experiment with his vital spark
before he thinks of monkeying with the
cafe.
The Conyers Weekly.
VOL. VII.
FARMER NICE’S SCARECROW.
Out in the cornfield, grouped together,
A flock of crows discussed the weather.
Observing them, thrifty Farmer Nick
Declared that the crows were “gettin’ too
thick.”
“ I must have a scarecrow—that is true;
Now, would not that old umbrella do?”
So into the house the farmer went,
And away to the field the umbrella sent.
One rainy day the farmer went out
To view the corn fields lying about;
He neared the umbrella; looked inside;
And what he saw made him laugh till he
‘ cried !
For in there, out of the rainy weather
, A dozen crows were huddled together 1
So the farmer, laughing as farmers should.
Said: “I fear my scarecrow did little good.”
Noka E. Ckosbi. in St. Nicholas.
TJncle Cntlibert.
“Hush ! It is Clarence Hyde’s step I”
And Rose Eldon sprang to her feet, rosy
and smiling, with freshly-plucked helio¬
trope trembling among her glossy brown
braids, and her pretty blue dress float¬
ing around her like an azure cloud.
Only eighteen, and very fair and love¬
ly was our little Rosa—a trifle spoiled
and willful, perhaps, but what else could
one expect ? Every one petted and
made much of her—every one smiled at
her pretty, kittenish way—and Clarence
Hyde thought her the fairest specimen
of feminine humanity that ever the sun
shone on.
Lizzy Eldon made room for her sister
—Lizzy, just one year younger and
scarcely less fair, yet very different in
character. Lizzy was quiet, and sage
and demure, while Rosa rattled away
like a merry mountain stream flowing
over its mossy stones. Lizzy thought
her sister perfection, while Rosa was lec¬
turing Lizzy in a capricious fashion, and
laying down the law to her after the
most approved manner of elder sisters.
“How nice it must be to be engaged!”
said 'Lizzy, with a half-encouraging
smile, as Rosa paused at the glass to ad¬
just her hair. “I wish I was engaged 1”
“You? Oh, you are nothing but a
child,” Rosa said, patronizingly. “There
—give me my pocket handkerchief.”
And away she went, light and lithe as
a blue-winged butterfly.
Clarence Hyde was in the parlor anx¬
iously awaiting her coming, but Clar¬
ence had rather a disturbed face. He
was a well-made, handsome fellow, with
laughing, wine-brown eyes, straight fea¬
tures, and brown hair thrown back from
a broad, frank brow.
“Why, what makes yon look so so¬
ber?” was Rosa's first question, when
the ceremonials of greeting were gone
through with and she had time to take
a good look into his face.
“Sober ? Do I ?”
He was playing rather restlessly
with the crimson cord that looped back
the white muslin draperies of the pretty
bay window that made Mrs. Eldon’s cot¬
tage look like one of the lovely rustic
habitations you see in old Engligh en¬
gravings. had the toothache
“Exactly as if you
or a bad conscience.”
Clarence laughed in spite of himself.
“You are wrong, then my little riddle
guesser, I am afflicted with neither the
one nor the other.”
“Well, what is it, then?”
“Rosa, what would yon say if it were
to become necessary to defer our mar¬
riage for some time ?”
A shadow came over the infantile
bloom and freshness of Rosa’s face.
“To defer onr marriage, Clarence? I
can’t imagine what you mean.”
“Listen, Rosa, and I will tell you.
My uncle has just come from California,
very poor and a confirmed invalid. I am
his only surviving relative, and to me he
naturally appealed for protection and
companionship. I must give him a
home, Rosa. You know I bad laid np
just enough to begin housekeeping in a
quiet, economical sort of way, but the
new plan will necessarily alter all of my
arrangements.” uncle before.”
“I never heard of any
“No, dearest; I knew very little of
him—nothing personally, as he never
visited my father’s during his life-time/’
Rosa’s face was turned away from
Clarence Hyde’s; she was silently twist¬
ing a piece of paper round and round
her slender forefinger. min
“Rosa,” he said, after waiting a
ate or two for her to make some
remark, “tell me honestly, dear one,
which yon prefer—to begin housekeep¬
ing on this new scale—one more frugal
and humble than I had originally hoped
and intended— or to defer onr marriage
until I can earn enough to carry out
those original arrangements.”
She was silent for a moment, then
she answered in a voice which seemed
to chill Clarence’s buoyant yonng heart:
“Neither f”
“Bosar he “I do not un
enough. Neither I”
CONYERS, ROCKDALE CO., GA„ FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1884.
‘‘Do you mean that-”
“I mean that yon must either give up
your uncle or me After all that has
been said and known of onr engagement,
after its publicity and length, I certainly
cannot consent to a further postpone¬
ment. And we shall be poor enough if
we marry immediately, without filling
onr house with needy relatives.”
Clarence Hyde looked at his fair
fiancee in perfect amazement. Never
in the -whole course of their acquaint¬
ance had he seen this phase of charac¬
ter. He had fancied her all that was
sweet, pure and womanly. Could it be
possible that she was cold-hearted, sel¬
fish and dead to all the sweet ties of
nature ?
“Rosa,” he said, mournfully, “is this
to part ns ?”
“It is for you to say.”
“Do you wish me to give up my poor,
dependent uncle ?”
“Either him or me,” Rosa answered,
indifferently.
“It will be hard—very hard, for me
to lay aside the brightest wishes of my
life,” he said earnestly, “but, Rosa,
duty is my first object. I cannot leave
my uncle to wear out his few remaining
days in poverty and solitude.”
“Very well,” answered Rosa careless¬
ly, stooping to pick up the odorous pur¬
ple blossoms which had fallen from her
hair, “then we shall consider onr en¬
gagement dissolved.”
“And can you give me up so readily,
Rosa?”
“Oh,” said Rosa, a little impatiently,
“where’s the use of being romantic
about it ? You have chosen your path,
I have chosen mine. So let it be!”
Clarence Hyde took his leave, de¬
jected enough. It is not pleasant to set
up a fair idol and worship it with all the
strength and tenderness of your nature,
only to find, after all, that it is dust and
ashes—hollow-hearted and false !
Cuthbert Hyde sat smoking his brier
wood meerschaum by the open window
as Clarence entered—a square, shrewd
looking old man, with deeply-seamed
wrinkles on his brow, and restless,
sparkling eyes, gleamiDg like live coals
beneath his shaggy brows.
“Clarence, my boy, something has
gone wrong,” he said, brusquely, after
he bad regarded his nephew in silence
for awhile. “Tell the old UDcle what
it is.”
“I have told you about Rosa Eldon,
sir; well, she and I are—in fact, it is
all over between us."
“Engagement broken, eh? Past the
power of patching up?”
“Yes, uncle.”
“And it was on my account? Nay,
bov; don’t turn away—I can read the
truth in your eyes. So she played you
false ?”
“We are parted, unole—is not that
enough ?”
“Well, perhaps so—perhaps so. It
is well you found her out in time, Clar¬
ence. It’s for the best, my boy.”
Clarence Hyde was passing down the
village street a day or two subsequently
toward dnsk on a mellow August even¬
ing when a slight form glided up to
him and a tremulous hand was laid
upon his own. He started at first, bat
quickly recognized the face and figure,
“Lizzy Eldon!”
“Oh, Clarence, I could not rest with¬
out telling you how very, very wrong I
thought Rosa, and how sorry I am for
yon.” think she
“Thanks, Lizzy. I do not
has treated me exactly right.”
“How could she be so cruel, so un¬
womanly? Yon are right, Clarence—
you acted nobly. I think Rosa will one
day live to repent it”
As Clarence stood there listening to
Lizzy Eldon’s impetuous words and
holding her soft little hand in his own*
he wondered that he had never before
noticed how very, very pretty she was—
a softer, more subdued style of beauty
than Rosa’s, yet not less bewitching in
its way.
They haunted him all night long,
that oval, earnest face, those swimming
blue eyes.
Day by day Rosa’s image waxed
fainter and more faint in his memory,
and Lizzy’s shy, gentle looks grew more
than ever present in his heart
“I do believe I’ve fallen in love with
the girl,” he thought “I wonder what
she would tpy if I was to propose to
her?” realiza¬
Next to the wonder came the
tion. One fine October day, when they
had strayed a little way from the gay
nutting party, whose voices made the
old yellow-leaved woods musical, Mr.
Hyde asked Lizzy Eldon If she would
accept the love her sister had slighted,
and Lizzy, smiling and trembling, an¬
swered him, yes.
“You see, Uncle Cuthbert,” said
Clarence, eagerly, as he explained > the
new position of affaire to his ancle that
evening, after he had safely esoorted
Lizzy home, with^her basket of nuts
things considered), “it will be » pieas-
ant 1 We shall all live together, and
Lizzy says she will love you dearly.
Lizzy is suoh a famous little housekeep¬
er. She thinks it will be so pleasant to
have yon sitting by our hearthstone J
And, unole, you will go and see her to¬
morrow, won’t you?”
“Yes,” said Uncle Cuthbert, briefly,
“I’ll go.”
And the next day Lizzy was surprised
at her sewing by a brown-faced, little,
old man, who abruptly took both her
hands in his and imprinted a kiss upon
her crimson forehead, just as if he was
the oldest acquaintance in the world I
“So you’re going to marry my nephew,
Lizzy, are you ?” said Uncle Cuthbert.
“Yes, sir,” Lizzy made answer, tim
idly.
“And yon love him, Lizzy?”
“Oh, yes, sir.”
“And you won’t object to having the
old man lumbering ’round the house,
helpless and feeble though he be ?”
“I shall be so glad to have you live
with us, sir, for I never remember my
father—and—you will be like one to me,
I am sure.”
Uncle Cuthbert kissed her again, and
walked away as abruptly as he had
come.
“He’s a very funny old gentleman,”
thought Lizzy, “but I know I shall like
him.”
Rosa contemplated the present state
of affairs very coolly—a little contempt¬
uously, in fact.
“If you choose to adopt all Clarence
Hvde’s poor relations, why, I can only
wonder at your taste,” she said, loftily,
But Lizzy only smiled, and doubted
to herself whether Rosa could really
ever have loved CJlareBce.
“No, no, no l” echoed her hear
The day of the wedding drew near.
Lizzy’s white dress was nearly finished,
and modest little presents were begin¬
ning to be sent in from friends and
neighbors. Unole
“Here’s my present," said
Cuthbert, walking in one day, and toss¬
ing a little box of carved wood into
Lizzy’s lap. “I cut out those wooden
flowers myself, when I was in Cali¬
fornia.”
“Oh, Uncle, what a dear little box,”
said Lizzy, smiling her bright thanks,
while Rosa elevated her nose rather
scornfully. beautifully,”
“Well, open it; it’s lined
said the old man.
Lizzy obeyed.
“Why, there’s a parchment chart in
it, Uncle,” cried the astonished Clarence,
who was leaning over Lizzy’s shoulder.
“And so there is—a deed making over
$50,000 to Lizzy Eldon the day of her
marriage,” answered Uncle Cuthbert,
dryly, “and I’ve just got another one for
you at home, Clarence, my boy ! Aha !
the old unole was not so very poverty
stricken after all. Yon musn’t think,
my yonng lady,” he added, turning
abruptly to Rosa, “that gold isn’t gold
because it is a trifle tarnished and rnsty.
Appearances aren’t anything in this
world 1”
And so Clarence and Lizzy began the
world with the fairest of prospects, and
true love enough to float the bark of
life into the sweetest haven.
Rosa Eldon was somewhat chagrined
in her secret soul, but she wisely kept
her secret to herself, and old Uncle
Cuthbert was quite satisfied with the
choice his nephew had made.
“She’s worth twice a hundred thou¬
sand dollars in her own sweet self, Clar¬
ence,” he said, confidentially, to Mr,
Hyde, junior,
Paying Dearly for It.
English sportsmen pay dearly foT
their hunting. It has been roughly es¬
timated that every stag which falls in a
deer forest in England or Scotland costs
the lessee the sum of £50 ($250), and
therefore a property which yields fifty
of these monarchs of the glen is expect¬
ed to let for £2,500 per annum. That of
itself would be a large sum to pay for the
sport of a couple of months, but it is
only a portion of the cost whioh is inci¬
dental to what has been called the pas¬
time of princes. The total expenditure
for the season will, in all probability, in
numerous instances amount to a tots
sum of £5,000.
Heb I’s. —A Pennsylvania girl sued
a former lover for breach of promise,
and produced several of his letters with
postscripts containing promises of mar
riage to substantiate her claim. The
court, however, threw the letters out, in
asmuch as it was discovered that in the
postscripts, whenever the personal pro
noun was necessary, a small “I” was
SSn? appekre!^proi»rtv esMicsrpitol p^ueTnaS ?sharing
of e
not been written by the same hand,
The young woman lost her case, and
will probably learn to write properly be
fore she tries that dodge again.
NO. 32.
A COWARDLY ASSAULT.
One of the Salvation Arin^ Members
Fatally Injured by a Blow on the Head at
Albany—A Fnthetlc Scene at the Dyiny
Girl’s Bedside,
A dispatch from Albany, N. Y„
dated Friday, says: Miss Lucy John¬
ston, of South Brooklyn, well-known as
“Singing Lucy,” of the Salvation Army,
is in probably a dying condition here,
having been struck senseless by an un
known person while the army were
parading last night. It is regarded as
one of the greatest outrages ever perpe¬
trated in this city and there is great in¬
dignation among the residents over the
affair. Numerous threats have been
made by roughs that if the Salvation
Army paraded, “they would suffer for
it.”
But notwithstanding this a parade was
made last evening, starting at 7.30
o’clock. They proceeded from Hudson
avenue up Pearl street and back, fol
owed by a crowd of children and hood¬
lums. No one ventured to molest them
until they had turned down Steuben
street on their way to Hidley Hall to
hold their meeting. Turning into James
street the Salvationists discovered a
large gang of young men gathered about
the entrance to the hall. Several of the
army had already entered and were at
the top of the stairway which leads to
the meeting-room, when Miss Johnston
was heard calling from the door: “Cap¬
tain, some one has struck me.” Im¬
mediately there was a general confnBion
auu a scattering of the roughs congre
gated about The army gathered about
the stricken soldier, who lay stunned
upon the floor. It was soon discovered
that she had been struck violently on
the back of the head while entering the
door. The unconscious girl was carried
upstairs amid great excitement and cries
of fright
After reaching home the suffering girl
became again unconscious. Spasm suc¬
ceeded spasm and delirium set in. At
10.30 o’clock Dr. Fisk, of Hudson av
enue, was called in and pronounced it
a severe case ot concussion of the brain.
All night long the young woman re
mained in a delirious state. Only for a
few seconds, at about 1 o’clock, did Bhe
become conscious. Turning to Captain
Maggie Renick, she rolled her eyes un¬
easily and exclaimed, ‘ ‘You haven’t told
mother, have you?” On being in¬
formed in the negative, she seemed con¬
tented and again lost consciousness.
Once or twice she cried out, “Nellie,
don't tell poor mother, It would kill
her.” Nellie is the name of a sister
whom she dearly loves and imagined
was near her. Friends with tearful eyes
surrounded the stripken girl all nigM.
At 1.30 in the afternoon she was uncon¬
scious and her condition was still re¬
garded as very critical. In the evening
she became conscious, and her physi¬
cian hopes for her ultimate recovery.
Singing Lucy is twenty-one years old
and joined the Salvation Army about
four months ago. Her parents occupy
a good social position in Brooklyn and
strongly opposed her entering upon this
work. She is tall and well formed, has
a remarkably sweet voice and has made
herself a great favorite among the friends
oi the Salvationists. She has had a
presentment for a week past that some¬
thing was going to happen to her. The
ruffianly coward who struck the blow
has not yet been discovered. It is
thought that she was struck with a club
or leaded “billy.”
The Generous-Hearted Wife.
He had failed for $500,000, and his as¬
sets would not pay two cents on the dol¬
lar. He gave up everything he had to
satisfy his creditors, not even reserving
the watch in his pocket. And yet they
growled. An old friend called to see
him. He met him at the depot with a
$6,000 span of horses, and conveyed
him to a $200,000 residence, where he
dined and wined him like a prince, on
the finest of china and the costliest of
plate. “Why, Jones,” said his old friend,
“I thought you had failed ?”
“So I have—given up everything, ab¬
solutely everything to my creditors, as
an honest man should,” replied the
bankrupt, in a tone of self-abnegation.
“Why, you appear to be living pretty
well,” remarked the old friend.
“Ah, my dear sir, how mistaken yon
are,” returned the two-cents-on-the-dol
lar failure. “Everything that yon see
| is my wife’s, absolutely everything.
j But she is too tender-hearted to deprive
me of their use on account of my mis
i fortune*.”
;
f
; times with nowadays?”
! “How are you,
! Stored old resident of Austin, of a
barber. “Inebber seed ’em so
I bad, boss.” “Yon don’t boss. have Times much to
do?” • ‘I reckon not, am
so hard dat outer ten men, eleben don’t
get sfaabed at all, and all the rest shabes
! ’emselves. ’’—Texas Siftings.
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WHAT WE FIND IN THEM TO 89HI.B
OVER THIS WEEK.
The Chinese Pnzzle-Ttie Girl* Tltlered-A
I.uky Number—Whnt Piisr.zled Him—
Two llifl'erent Klnds-The Tramp and
Woodpile. Etc.
THEY LOVED.
“My young man is a contractor,” sha
said to a group of envious young lady
friends. “A contractor ?” asked half a
dozen companions. “Yes, a contractor.
He has contracted the habit of tobacco
using, beer-drinking and gambling, be¬
sides a long list of small debts.” “H«
is almost as smart as one of my admir
ers, ” chimed in another young lady;
“he is an undertaker.” “An under
taker ?” came the eliorus from the com
pauy. “Yes, ho undertakes to make me
believe that he is very handsome and
smart. He undertakes to make $50 a
month carry him through where $100
conld not pay out, and undertakes to
imitate sensible people at times, but
gives himself away .”—Lincoln Union,
THE DIFFEBENC®.
At first glance it seems odd that a
county treasurer in Idaho Territory
should skip out with $13 belonging to
the county, but after a conversation
with an Ohio citizen the case is more
satisfactory. The $13 was all the poor
‘eHow could get hold of. It was a larger
sum than had ever been in his charge
before. The golden opportunity had
come, and it was then or never. Ohio
county treasurers are never short less
than $12,000, and run from that to $75,
000, but Idaho is a young country and
can’t be expected to compete. While
there may be an imaginary line between
the East and the West, there is no real
difference in the natures of public offi¬
cials.—Wail Afreet News,
TWO DIFFERENT BLINDS.
Bob Nioklebv married a wealthy old
maid for her money. She paints herself
np and makes quite a handsome appear¬
ance at a distance, at balls and parties.
On the other hand, Sam Ohnzzlewit’s
wife is young and goodlooking naturally.
Both were in attendance at a ball on
Austin avenue, and Mrs. Niokleby was
painted like a dofi. Next morning
Nickleby met Ohuzzlewit and said:
“Our wives looked beautiful at the
ball last night” Ohuzzlewit, “and
“Yes,” responded
my wife looks that way jet”—Texas
Siftings. Chinese pczzlk.
rna
Oil, bring mo a map of the seat of war !
I hear tup ‘.;vnin on the l iver Min I
I want to set where the missiles tore
Through far Foochow with a devil’s din.
Just show me. Ke-htng and Sinen-choo;
And where. Oh, where is Kin-te-ching,
Choo-( :hoo, Chang-ehow, and where Oha-oo7
Is Hing-wha far from Yen-ping ?
i yearn to know of Ilio-chle-ching*
I long to see the high Nan-ling;
However will (he French get in
To Klang-si or view Toong-ting?
So, bring me a map of the sent of war ?
I want to learn while the fight is yonng;
And while I am looking for one name more,
I’ll pray for the ladies of great Qnang-tmig. nut.
— Loui.miut Oi turit-j - Ji':l
FOOLED ENOUGH.
A couple of Englishmen once star led
from Denver for the foot-hills, judging
them to be four miles off. After walk¬
ing eight miles and finding themselves
apparently no nearer to the range, they
came to the Denver irrigation ditch,
about four feet wide.
One of them stopped on the bank and
began to strip, his companion exclaim¬
ing: do?”
“Why, what are you going to
“I am going to swim the river.’’
“Why, man, it's a ditch, and only
a yard or so across I”
“How do I know it isn’t a quarter of
a mile? We’ve been fooled enough
already, and I’m not going to risk a
wetting; yon can jump if you like.”
A SPECIMEN OF FUN.
The other day a little cherub of but a
very few summers, sat at the window of
her resilience ou E ist Fourth street,
when a genuine dude walked wearily by.
His legs were phantom like, his shoes
long and pointed, his dress foppish, he
wore a single eyeglass and carried a
diminutive rattan cane. As lie stared
about idiotically the little one said:
“Mamma, did Dod make ’at man ? ’
“Yes, my darling.”
The little one looked again and gig¬
gled, and with a merry twinkle in her
eye, said:
“Mamma, Dod likes to have fnn des
as much as anybody, don’t He.”— St.
Raul Herald
Did Not Want a Receipt
A letter from New Brunswick, N. J.,
in speaking of the Bank suspension
save: Depositors from remote towns
who had just heard the news of the fail¬
ure, wandered around in search of their
money and definite information. One
farmer from Little Washington may be
quoted as a fair instance of the absolute
tiust placed in Cashier Hill by people
round about who knew him from a boy.
This man and bis economical wife, by
careful scraping and saving, had saved
$3,000. When he came to this town
last spring, he gave it to Hill to invest.
While Hill was writing oat a receipt,
the fanner picked up his gloves and
hurried out.
“Oh, pevermind that,” he said jocu
Jarly; “I kin trust ye, I guess, Ha!
ha!”
'fo-day the farmer wiped the tears
from his eyes rfth the tail of his linen
duster and told his story to a crowd of
loiterers around tbe ba ° k wb °
themselves to be about as badly off as he
was.
