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About The Elberton star. (Elberton, Ga.) 1891-1981 | View Entire Issue (April 28, 1893)
£ One Dollar a Year. Published Every Friday Morning. Entered at the Elberton Post-Office as Second-Class Mail Matter. ^'se man’s ® 0 '° Good Job Work Done. in The OfficialOrganof Elber t Goun- ty, and the Best Advertising Medium p>j in Eastern Georgia. DEVOTED to TTT3E I1TTEBESTS Op OTJT^ PEOPLE. PUBLISHED BY white & morcock. ELBERTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 28,1893. NO. 17-VOL. V- jack and estella. Why a Union Veteran Decor ates the Grave of a Confederate. was in the year 1 1862 that Jack Marsden, the only child of a wealthy planter of Ten nessee, determ ined to lend his aid in support of the cause of the He hut 19 years of ag-e, a tall, dark com- plexioned, black- eyed, rokust, man ly fellow, petted, perhaps, a little , ~ >v . ,T L a.yj^yir-_ too much by over indulgent parents; Ue — nevertheless, be loved -by all for his unassuming ways. At the breaking out of the war he was attending a college in Massachu setts where he was among the leaders in all the sports and recreations of the students. He was first, in the athletic games and was a decided favorite among the faculty and his fellow-classmates. It is not surprising then that the announcement of his determination to return home to offer his services to the Cofederate army caused deep regret, and at a meeting of the students it was de cided to wait upon the faculty and en deavor to secure permission to give this {southern classmate a fitting send-off. The faculty readily consented and further offered to assist in the matter. A reception was arranged for an eve ning before the day set on by Jack for liis departure, and a most enjoyable af fair was the result. The big dining room was taken possession of by the students and their guests, and after dinner, at which many little speeches were made, the evening was spent in dancing. Among the bevy of young ladies pres ent was a blue-eyed, fair complexioned, rosy-cheeked little miss of perhaps 17, and it was noticed that to her Jack paid particular attention. In most of the dances she was Jack's partner, and dur ing intermissions they might have been found in some secluded nook in deep conversation. Estella Gardner, was the daughter of a captain of an Ohio company, which al ready had gone to the front, and as Es- tella’s mother was dead, she had been sent to Boston to live with an aunt un- An fin *1 Although Jack ana Estella differed as to the justness of the causes of the war they were good friends, and the morn- “No, Lieutenant. I am not ill, but to j tell the truth I wish the war was over, j Like a little boy, "I want to go home.” This he said with a forced smile. Lieut. Parker looked amazed. The idea of so brave and gallant a soldier, a man who from the time he volun tarily presented himself for enlistment, seemed to think of nothing but warfare, and in the thickest of its fray always led his men and placed himself in the most dangerous positions, complaining of his situation seemed absurd. Cap tain Marsden noticed his Lieutenant's amazement and half hesitating, said: “Lietenant, 1 see my words have mystified you, and as I need a confi dant 1 will tell j'ou why I am so down hearted. This morning I received a letter from home. That of course cheered noi up if 1 needed cheering, but enclosed was a letter that is re sponsible for my gloomy feeling-. It was from—well, never mind, let that pass.” Marsden walked away absent-mind edly through the storm, while Parker gazed after him in amazement. Mars- DESPERATK MOWED DOWN' AROUND HIM. ing after the reception when Jack an nounced to liis classmates that he was not going to leave direct for the South, but intended to spend a week in Boston, there was many a little smile and twinkle in the eyes of the boy*s. Jack spent the one week in Boston and then remained two weeks more— because he wished too, perhaps. Jack’s determination to go to the war was strongly opposed by both his father and mother, but to no avail, and the morning that he left for Memphis to otter his services to General ——— there was deep sorrow at the Marsden home. Old Rube, the favorite slave of the Marsdens, drove Jack to the depot, and it was with a heavy heart that lie turned the old carriage around and re sumed his journey homeward, not.how ever, until after the train bearing Jack was lost to view. Jack was accepted at once and took his place as a private^ but within the short period of one year had risen, through his numerous’acts of bravery to the rank of a captain. Although en gaged in several fierce skirmishes lie had escaped without a scratch and would probably have forgotten that war fare was accompanied with danger had not the terrible fact been so forcibly* presented to him on several occassions when his comrades were mowed down all around him. It was a stormy night that orders were l’eceived for two companies of the regiment to hasten to the Poto mac to endeavor to head off a detach ment of Yanks w*ho had succeeded in intercepting a scouting party of Gen. ’s command. Captain Mars den had been unusually happy before the receipt of orders to move, but, something unknown. in his ca reer, tlio call to action thrftw him into deep gloom and his changed appearance was commented on among" the boys. Addressing his first officer, Jack said: “Lieutenant, as commander of the company*, I know I am doing wrong in mentioning the matter, much less to even let such a foolish idea enter m3* head, but I must admit that I never started out on a mission with a heavier heart than at this time.” "Why, captain, what has occurred? I had observed your changed appearance, but attributed it to some physical ailment, brought on, as I thought probable, tiy our exposure to the disagreeable weather of the past few days.” . . DEFENDING EIMSE1.P AVI' COURAGE den strolled about as though in a dream, seeing nothing, communing with himself. Taking a letter from his pocket he gazed at it sadly. “Poor girl,” he said, “so she intends to come South, because .she thinks she should be near her father, who is re ported to be ill of camp-fevei*. To think that one of her age shuld dare the dangers of travel in such times! Ah, Estella, how I love you.” Then he relapsed into his former silence. As the hour for the detach ment he commanded to lea\ r e approach, he threw off in a great measure his melancholy feelings and prepared him self with his wonted vigor for the bat tle. Ever3*thing Avas soon in readiness ‘ by skillful guidance, and the little troop marched out into the dark ness to meet the enemy, and, perhaps, encounter death. After a long- march through the storm, the detachment halted in the road and waited for the Yanks. They Avere not long in coming, for presentlyr the tramp, tramp of the practiced soldiers’ feet was heard. Marsden stationed his men in the most adA*antagous positions and waited the moment for the pra3*. Soon it commenced. Above the din of the conflict could be heard the sten torian voice of ( ’apt. Marsden calling on his men to fight to the end. The re ports had deceived them, for the Yanks outnumbered his detachment ten to one. Nevertheless they fought with great fury and finally succeeded in routing the enemy! but not until they had sus tained great loss. When the men finally gathered together again, flushed with victory, the cheery voice of their beloved captain did not greet them. Search Avas insti tuted immediately, and he was found, still alive, but unconscious, beside his horse, with a bullet in his breast. Willing hands picked him up and carried him tenderly back to camp, whence he Avas removed to the military* hospital at Fredericksburg. As he was carried through the streets of the city under a strong escort, a young lady, accompanied by one many years her senior, passed; touched with pity and noticing the profound marks of respect paid to the little procession, she asked and received permission to A'iew the Avounded man. One glance at the pale face of Mars den was enough to change the look of , I’w/i I 1 s® sp^ „ i , \ \ ‘ “YOU * UE IN THE HOSPITAL AT FRED ERICKSBURG,” pit3* on the face to one of horror, which in turn gave place to one of in tense love. “Oh, Jack.” '"as all she said, but there Avas a Avorkl of pity in her tone. Marsden was carried to the hospital, and Estella followed. She offered her self as nurse and was promptly ac cepted. Jack’s long stupor was succeeded by days of raging fever. Through it all Estella nursed him with infinite care. Finally* the doctor said the crisis had come; the patient would awake, but he could not sa3* whether it would be to life or death. When Jack finally opened his ey*es and gazed about him, the vacant stare Avas gone. He recognized Estella in stantly, although deep lines of care and want of rest Avere upon her face. His astonishment knew no bounds. He looked upon her long and earnestly. He beckoned for her with a hand so thin and transparent that Estella could not restrain her tears. She approached the bedside, and kneeling* beside it. placed her head upon the pillow. No words were necessary. They under stood each other perfectly* Gently she kissed his AA'hite forehead. When he questioned her as to hoAA* she came there she told him that she had been to her father, and, finding that he liad completely recovered, she and her aunt, acting under her father’s orders, had started to return home, and she also told him how she came to be at his bed side at such a time. She told him he was in the hospital at Fredericksburg. They remained in conversation until the doctor came to examine liis pa tient. There Avas a troubled look on his face when he finished, which Estella was not slow to interpret. She .followed the physician outside and asked him as to Jack's prospects. The physician told her that he could not live the night through; that his extrema weakness would surely carry him off by daylight at the latest; there was no hope. Jack died that night with Estella’s hand betAveen his oavu. Estella man aged to keep her strength until lie Avas buried; then she grew ill, failed rapidly*, and finals* departed for the land Avhere there is no bloodshed to.rejoin her love. Before she died she requested that she be buried by the side of Jack. Her request Avas carried out. Side by side beneath the green sod they sleep in peace, undisturbed by the busy hum of traffic; the earth above is trodden by many, but it matters not—their slum bers are not disturbed. THE IDOL OF THE ARMY. Some Recollections of the Late Gen. Beauregard. In fine death General Pierre Gus tave Toutant Behave yard the South lost one of its most Nqnous soldiers, a man who during the lav war became an idol of its people and KHq, none of his prestige thereafter. Altliolwfi a grad uate of West Point, beieg second in a class of forty-five that comprised such distinguished officers as .Generals Hardee, Wayne, EdAvard Johnson, Rey- nolds, Trapirr and Sibley, his life was uneventful until 1846-17, when the breaking out of the Mexican war afforded scope for the display of the rare engineering and strategical quali ties that distinguished him throughout his subsequent career. Brevet followed brevet as a reAvard for his gallantly upon the field, and when he returned to his home in New Orleans the young lieutenant of 1838 Avas known through out the army as tlie brilliant Major Beauregard. It is related ofehim in illustration of his almost uncontrollable taste for mili tary things, even at an early age, the sight of a passing soldier or the beating of a drum would so excite and carry him aAvay that he would forget every'- thing—paternal admonitions, boyish playmates and even hunger—in order that he might enjoy the pleasure of fol- loAving either or both. At the early age of 11 years the resident teacher of the household considered him suffi ciently prepared to go through that COXEJ5DF.KA.TI MEMORIAL MONUMENT, TO EE ERECTSD IN OAKWOOD CHICAGO, JULY 1, 1S93. CEMETERY, The remains of over 6.000 Confeder ate soldiers are buried in Oakvyood cemetery, Chicago. Above is an illu stration of the imposing monument to be erected to their memory. It'is 15 feet and 6 inches square at the base, and is nearly 40 feet in height, includ ing the 8 feet bronze statue of a Confed erate soldier, Avhich surmounts the structure. The bronze panels on the sides of the die represent the “Lost Cause,” the “Call to Arms,” and the “Eternal Sleep,” the rear bearing* an appropriate inscription. It is intended that the work shall be net by July 1 of the present year. It will be built from granite quarried at Constitution Hill, Ga. It is the same material from which Atlanta’s monu ment to H. W. Grady was, constructed. It was some time before Estella's father heard of her sad but peaceful end. He was so completely unnerved that he was compelled to return home, where he remained until the end of tha war. The dead girl’s aunt told him the story. All the captain could say* evas, that it was f ate, and that he would not disturb her remains. Once a y*ear a man. boAved equally* by the weight of sorrow and of y*ears, a Union soldier, visits the grave of his daughter. He bears two wreaths One he places upon the grave whose headstone bears simply the name “Es telle.” The other he places upon the grave of John Marsden. the Confeder ate. He alway*s seems to leaA*e in bet ter spirits than when he came. The light of love is in his face. Thoughts of anger are far from him; he thinks only of the time ay hen he can again see his dead wife, his daughter Estelle and C’apt. John Marsden. THEY SHOULD NOT REST APART. BY FATHER RYAN. Gather the sacred dust Of tlio warriors tried and true, Who bore the flap: of our nation’s trust. And fell in a cause as great as just And died for me and you. Gather them, each and all, From the private to the chief, Come they from cabin or lordly hall; Over their dust let the^fresh tears fall Of a nation’s holy grief. No matter whence they come, Deal- is their lifeless clay; Whether unknown or known to fame, Their cause and country were the same— They died—and they wore the gray. __ touching ceremony in the Homan Cath olic church, the children's first commu nion. The appointed day haA*ing* ar rived, young Beauregard, Avitli his fam ily* seated in one of the front pew# of the old St. Louis Cathedral, awaited the moment when he Avas to approach and kneel at the altar. Suddenly* the roll of a drum resounded through the edifice. The child Avas already on his feet and moving up the broad aisle, but lie stopped, hesitated, and as the in spiring notes became move distinct fairly* turned his back upon the altar and dashed out of the church. No stronger proof than this coukl be given of the bent ot his character. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. As history has recorded most of the important events in his military career my* aim will be to draw an outline of the man rather than of the official, and as I daily saw him in the familiar rela tions of a personal aide-de camp from the beginning until the end of the Avar. In common Avith many of the planter? of South Carolina I had responded to the request of Governor Pickens and carried to Morris Island forty of my neg*roes foi work in constructing batteries. I plainly saw that whoever commanded troops around Charleston harbor would be obliged to communicate Avith his sub ordinates by means of boats. I there fore tendered to the governor my* own and the services of my* boatmen, with the understanding that I should have a military position, so that in the e\*ent of capture I should be regarded as a prisoner of war? Beauregard had ar rived in Charleston that very day*, and learning the facts the offer was promptly accepted and the planter thus changed into the soldier. The neAv chieftain was then forty- three years of age, and though not y*et draped in historic robes something about liis personality* showed him to be at once a model soldier and a finished gentleman. Among the privates assem bled for duty* at the call of their state were planters and sons of planters, some of them the wealthiest men in South Carolina, diligently working side by* side Avith their sla\*es. There were hoys and gray beards, the heirs of an cient names who had lived in luxury from childhood, and the unlettered sons of toil, students and ploughmen, rosy cheeked urchins and grizzled seniors, vet, among them all. Beauregard moved with a kindly and simple bearing* that shoAved him to he by* birth and habit the true gentilhoiffme. Later in the war hematic himself r*'-' *i- lar among the private soldiers by ming ling with them Avhen not obitlntye, versing* with them and lighting his cigar at their camp fires. The folloAA’ing is an incident in point. While at Centerville a private soldier belong ing* to a company of cavalry that* served as the general’s bodyguard "en tered Beauregard’s apartment and be gan writing a letter, as lie supposed at the desk of one of the clerks. Hearing a step behind him, he turned and saAA* his chief enter. All at once the truth flashed upon him that he Avas Avriting at the general's desk, on the general's paper and with the general’s pen. The soldier attempted to stammer out an apology, but none was necessary. “Sit dmvn and finish your letter, my friend,” said Beauregard, with a g*ood humored smile, “y*cu are very welcome and can always come in here when you wish to write.” Is it a wonder that such a commander should be personally mag netic in battle as was the case on the field of the first Manassas fight? The confederate battalions broken to pieces Avere scarcely more than a croAA*d of fugitives, yet when Beauregard, with ffis eyes flaming and his gaunt face ablaze with enthusiasm, dashed among* them and seizing the colors of the near est regiment called upon the men to fol- Ioaa* him, they rallied amid the terrific fire and swept forward to A*ietory. Jefferson Davis made his second in formal visit to the front in October, 1861, Avhen the Confederate army* was encamped in the neighborhood of Fair fax Court House. After holding a levee in the little old fashioned farm house that constituted headquarters a formal review of a portion of the army* took place. I only recall this because it is one of the lesser incidents of the war that lias not passed into history and yet preserves a part of the picture that is fading into obscurity*. it WAS .About, {.lie noon and the immediate divisions under review were in line. Directly there was a burst of music and then appeared at the front a dignified soldierly figure, keen eyed, agile, and riding with easy grace, his hat raised to every salutation, the man on Avhom the eyes of the civil ized AA'orid Avere fixed as the representa tive of the Southern people. Just be hind him in the full Confederate uni form of gray, with head erect and a face that seemed macadamized in its hardness, rode General Joseph E. John ston. By his side Avas Beauregard, to whom the Hiclimond Examiner ap plied the sobriquet' 11 Beauregard Felix,” because among the Romas that term signified happy, fortunate and fa\*ored of the gods; Beauregard, the hero of Fort Sumter; Beauregard, the superb, whom the boys remembered at Manas sas but a feAV months before, shouting in his inspiring voice amid the dense smoke of the battle field. “I salute the Eighth Georgia Avith my hat off! His tory* shall never forget you!” Attired in blue, Avith a feAv or no mil itary adornments on his person except a red. g’old bound cap such as vvas affected at the time by officers from NeAv Orleans, Avho more or less copied their style from the French, itAvase’asy to see that he Avas the pet of the army. His smooth, handsome face was browned by* exposure to the sun, and there \\*as that about his dark, alert ey*e, his magnificent horsemanship and poise as a cavalier Avhich marked him as chief in the admiration of the men. Tlie Bullet Missed Him. After the famous old colonial battle knoAvn as Braddock’s Defeat, more than one Indian testified that he aimed his gun directly at Washington, intend ing to kill him; but not a bullet touched him. They said he bore a charmed life. The same strange immunity in cadger lias been the experience of other men who afterward made a fig-uni in the world. In the first year of the civil Avar, when the Confederate General Floyd, and the Union General Cox, Avere facing each other with their troops on oppo site sides of the Gauley river, in West Virginia, a Georgia officer heard a bug*le blast early one morning near Hawk’s Nest Bluff, and saw an Ohio colonel ride out at the head of his regi ment. The distance was g*reat for small arms practice, but the Southerner mas a sha rp-shooter, and borrowing* a long range rifle from one of his men. he took careful aim across the river at the col onel's head. The bullet sped on its way, and the marksman saAv one of the plumes fall from the colonel’s hat. Of course, the colonel took warning, and retreated from the river bank at once.—Youth’s Companion. Jefferson Davis’ Remains, On the 30th day of May the remains of ex-President Jefferson Davis will be removed to the resting place provided for them in the beautiful city of Iticli- mond, on the James river. It Avas in Richmond that he administered the affairs of the Confederate government Avhen he occupied the position of chief executive. A bronze statue of a Confederate ar tilleryman standing bareheaded, his left hand holding* a soft felt hat by his side, his right supporting* a rammer with the sw*ab end upAvard, is to be un veiled' at Richmond in December, in memory of the IIoAvitzer Battalion of that citv. TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER. Spring, with her banners gold and green, W ith her splendid suns and her stars seiche, Smiles in the pease that comes a Iter the fray; And under the arch of the April skies The starry flag of the Union flies, Comrades' over your breasts to-dav. Forward! March! to the roll of the drum . The loyal sons of the Southland cornel Not to the battle!—the cannon's retai ls heard in the forests and fields no more; The SAveetest roses in all the'South, Blossoming up from the stainfos* sod, With incense sweet as they smile to God, Have sealed Avith silence its iron mouth. Your guns are stacked and your swords are sheathed, And your brows with the laurels of Peace are Avreathed. It is after tlie battle; what sounds are here? The songs of birds on the scented air: The murmurous sigh of the inland gales; The A*oice of the rivers that clashing free. Move in melody out to sea By murmurous meadows and violet- vales; Where once, in the strife and the passion and pain. Hose the shout of the victor, tlie cry of the slain. Tt is after the battle; the fight is done: The victory lost and the victory won! And ye, avIiq fought for the booth and slicdl Your blood on the battle fields, come to-day, Where your comrades sleep, in their coats of gray, Under the grasses that hide your dead! Halt! there are heroes that slumber here. And ye are such for the Avouuds ye bear! Beat, ye drums, Avith no muffled sound! Let the bugles echo the camps around! And still three cheers for the boys in grey! For whether they lived, or whether they died. The South by their \*i,lor is glorified And rich in her record of love to-day! Sons of the South! theec’s a victory sweet That comes to the brave in the ranks of defeat! Here are they lying—the,ones that shed Their blood for the South till her vales ran red, And her rivers blushed Avith the crimson tide! Honor them! 0\*er their graves the years Have scattered their roses and showered their tears And Southern Avomen have knelt and sighed. Honor them! Hondr was theirs, and fame Enshrines in glory encli deathless name. Tlie flag that they bore to the fight is furled, Hidden away from tlie neAV-made Avorld, And trailed in the dust are its crimson bars; The beautiful flag! ’ and they loved it so, But that is now in the long-ago. When the heavens were beaming Avith hope ful stars. Yet rare is the garland that o’er them waA*es— Whose erimeson shadow falls ou tlicir graves. And Peace, like a beautiful angel, broods, O’er the fertile fields and the solitudes Of a land' made bright by the smile of God; And—dearest blessmg of all—to-day, The foes who fought in the far-away, Are re-united on this dear sod, Which blossoms over the slain of Avar— Friends! was it love we were fighting for? Oh, loA*e is ours. Though the fight was sore, It is ended now—avo are friends once more! Once more —tluink God! —we can proudly stand, And looking back on the bloody past, Say: “It is over at last—at last!” With heart to heart and with hand to hand. •Over—and here, in the sight of heaven, "We do 1'oi‘sAivo- ua wc iuito liotiriveii. And thus forgiven, brave hearts and true, The boys in gray and the boys in blue — Your higher mission at last is done. And though o’er the gra\*es of our dead we weep, Wc can trust them all to the tender keep Of the God who guides us and makes us one! One in the union which shall not cease Till the Hugs are furled in the Port of Peace. F. L. Stanton WAR REMINISCENCES. Scenes of tlie Late Great Conflict Recalled to Mind. LIGHTHOUSE AT FORT MORGAN AFTER TO MR A EDM EX T. ^SESE J SCENE AT KOAHVILLE IN THE EARLY BAYS OF THE AVAR. A Fortunate Youth. Tlie passengers on an inbound train ou the Boston and Albany* railroad were greatly amused one afternoon lately by the actions of a gay Lothario. When tha train stopped at Natick, a handsome voujig man Avas seen standing on tha platform bidding an affectionate adieu to an equally fine looking young wom an. She nestled up to her fond admirer and brushed imaginary specks off tha fhpe^bf his coat. As the train was about to start ha made an effort to embrace the idol of his heart, but was'rebuked by the young woman, who remarked: “Not here, Fred; there are too many people around.” So Fred whispered a sweet goodby and jumped aboard the now moving train. As the cars sped on to Boston, Fred rapidly* forgot the girl he had left be hind him and seemed to care but' little for the attention that was shown to him by* those of liis fellow passengers who had witnessed the parting at Natick. But Fred had another treat in stove for the passengers. When the train pulled up at Huntington avenue, he alighted with a merry heart, and before the peo ple in the car could fully realize what had happened was in the arms of-an other fine young woman. This time lie found no difficulty in implanting a kiss on the right spot, and the happy pair walked off together, totally* oblivious of the fun they had created. Everybody in the car giggled, and persons who were entire strangers to one another freely discussed that affecting scene from real life.—Boston Herald. Nurture ami Physical Development. We may ask, Has any actual difference been ascertained between the growth of the children of the favored class and that of the less favored child? Do fresh air and good food and exercise and the absence of exhausting labor tell not only’ 1 upon the general health and happiness of our children, but upon their height and weight and the development of their chests? Does nurture tell in actual fig ures upon the size of a man? To this we may answer yes. It should he remarked in this connec tion that in regard to their actual origi nal endowment of bone and muscle, na ture is impartial in her favors, that her children are born free and equal in this respect, and that circumstances as re gards poverty or wealth or class, whether of king or peasant, have little or no in fluence upon the size of the new born. It is also noteworthy that the tendency in the beginning is always toAvard the normal symmetrical development of the body, and (speaking of the rule) that children are not born deformed, or with TS8 ut-fiEfiSiflits and irregularities* wo sometimes jiote in them later. Out of 23,200 infants observed by* Cliaussier, only* 122 were found to present any* de viation from the normal, and these ex ceptions were actual monstrosities, while from 15,229 cases observed at a marer- nite in Paris only 45 were deformed.— Mary T. Bissell, M. D., in Harper’s Bazar. If You Were on the Moon. If lunar conditions are favorable to hu- inarn existence—and it is not certain that they* are not—and y*ou could be trans ported to the top of Pico ou some ether tall peak or rock on the surface ©f oiir “silvery sister world,” how do you sup pose things would look from such van tage ground? You would probably first turn your eyes in the direction of our earth—the world you had just quitted— but to you it Avould be a stranger. In place of the somber globe you would naturally expect to behold your eyes would be greeted with a most wqnderful sight. The earth would appear to y*ou to be 64 times larger than the sun appears to the residents of this mundane sphere. This because the^earth has eight times the diameter of the moon; therefore sha must necessarily sIioav the moonites 64 time# as much surface as the moon shOAVS us. The sun, on the other hand, would ap pear no larger to you from your observa tory on the moon than it does from oifr globe. The earth's atmosphere being blue, it has been decided that the earth must appear as a blue ball to all# outside on lookers. What a glorious sight it must be to our lunarian neighbors tcTlook upon a bright blue, sAvif t revolving ball 64 times Larger than the sun!—St. Louis Republic. feBlf " FORD S THEATRE. timf' =- : ■ ■ * v •L"i -y, Boarding House Amenities. They were talking at the boarding house table about Smith, the lawyer, who was not present. “Smith.” said the autocrat at the head of the table, and who is himself a law yer, “Smith is a very bright fellow, but he has this drawback: He rates himself about 60 per cent higher than anybody else does.” “Yes,” said the newspaper man medi tatively as he reached over and took the two brown biscuits that the teacher had her eyes on, “yes, but that is such a common failing of lawy*ers that I never take any account of it.” And then the other boarders who never dare to indulge in such amenities laughed wildly*, while the lawy*er said he couldn’t see why it was that a slur on his profession was always so amusing to the common herd.—Exchange. Danger From Adhesive Plasters. The Lancet gives an account of a fatal case of blood poisoning in which the in fection was traced to a bunion plaster. One can readily see how the common court plaster or any adhesive plaster might be the cause of infecting a fresh wound. They* are made to a great ex tent of animal refuse and bey*ond that may be infected in the pocket or by be ing carelessly left in a place where they are liable to contamination. VIEW OF VICE.SRUEtt. Browning’s Meter. Mrs. Crosse relates that, con\*ersing with the Poet Browning, she remarked that an accident had happened to her gas meter, and when she left the house tlie place was in darkness. “I should not be surprised if the same tiling occurred to me,” answered Brown ing, "for my critics tell me there is some thing wrong with my meter.’’
