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piule C 0 uni 11 (fiiizctte.
LUMPKIN & JORDAN. Editors and Proprietors.
VOLUME 11.
THE LOTI K FLOWER.
BY WILLIAM WINTER.
Though still the heart of twilight grlever,
As evening’s sun sinks low,
And s;td winds stir the fallen leaves
with songs of long ago,
No shadow grim can ever dim
The glory of this hour.
While thus the Mazing hearth we trim
Beneath the lotus flower.
Old Time may quench Illusion’s ltj.ht,
And diearns of youth depart,
But neither Time nor Truth can blight
The suoahine of the heart—
The gentle life of pure content,
Our sober manhood’s dower,
Sweet peace and calm affection, blent
Beneath the lotus flower.
In that dust land of mystic dream
Where dark Osiri sprung,
It bloomed beside his sacred stream
While yet the world was voung;
And every secret nature told
Of golden wisdom’s power,
Is nestled still in every fold
lotus flower.
Here let our weary burdens fall,
And passion’s longings cease;
The gods of fife have given all
heD once they give us j.asco.
Black care shall vanish in a laugh,
Forgot her i>eauly’s bower,
While here the loviug cup we quail
Beneath the lotus flower.
THE HOSTLER’S STORY.
J. T. TROW BI DDE.
What amused us most in the Lake
House last summer was the performance
of a beat in the back yard.
He was fastened to a pole by a chain,
which gave him a range of a dozen or
fifteen feet. It was not very safe tor
visitors to come within that circle, un
less they were prepand for rough
handling.
He had a way cl suddenly catching
you to his bosom and picking your
pockets of peanuts and candy—it you
carried any about you—in a manner
which took your breath away. He stood
up to his work on his hind legs in a
quite human fashion, and used to paw
and tongue with amazing skill and
vivacity, He was friendly and didn’t
mean any harm, hut ho was a rude
playfellow.
I shall never forget the ludicrous ad
venture of a dandified New Yorker,
who came out into the yard to fei and bruin
on seed cakes, and did not feed him fast
enough.
He approached a trifle too near, when
all at once the bear whipped an arm
about him, took him to his embrace and
“ went through ” his pockets in a hurry.
The terrified face of the struggling and
screaming fop, and the good-natured,
business like expression of the fumbling
and munching beast, offered the funniest
sort of a contrast.
The one eyed hostler, who was the
bear’s special guardian, lounged quite
leisurely to the spot.
“ Keep still, and he won’t hurt ye,”
he said, turning his quid. “ That’s one
of his tricks. Throw out what you’ve
got, and he’ll leave ye.”
The dandy made haste to help bruin
to the last of the seed cakes, and he
escaped without injury, but in a ridicu
lous plight—his hat smashed, his neck
tie and his linen rumpled, and his
watch dangling—but his fright was the
most laughable part of all.
The one-eyed hostler then made a
motion to the beast, who immediately
climbed the pole and looked at us from
cross-piece on the top.
“A bear,” said the one-eyed hostler,
Turning his quid again, “is the best
heated, knowin’est critter that goes on
all-fours. I’m speakin’ of our native
biack-bear, you understand. The brown
hear ain’t half so respectable, and the
grizzly bear 13 one of the ugliest brutes
in creation. Come down here, Pomp.”
Pomp slipped dowu the pole and ad
vanced to the one eyed hostier, walking
on his hind legs and rattling his chain.
“Playful as a kit en!” said the one
eyed hcstler, f ndlv. “11l show ye.”
He took a wooden bar from a clothes
horse near by, and made a lunge with
rt at Pomp’s breast.
No pugilist or fencing-master could
•have parried a blow more neatly. Then
the one-eyed hostler began to thrust
and strike with the bar as if in down
right earnest.
'* Rather savage play,” 1 remarked.
And a friend at mv side, who never
misses a chance to make a pun, added:
11 Yes, a decided act of bar-bearity.”
“ Oh, he 1 kes it!” said the one-eyed
hostler. “Ye can’t hit him.”
And indeed it was so. No matter j
how or where the blow was aimed, a I
movement of Pomp s paw, as quick as
a flash of I ghtning, knocked it aside,
and he stood good-humoredly waiting !
for more. ‘Once in a while,” said the
oree<ed hostler, resting from the ex-!
ercise and leaning on the bar, while 1
Pomp retired to hi* pole, “there’s a
b’ar of thi species that’s vicious and
blood-thirsty, General y, you let them
alone, and they’ll let you alone. They j
won’t run from you, mayl>e, but they
wou’t go out of their way to pick a
quarrel. They don’t swagger around •
with a chip on the r shoulder lookin’
for some fool to knock it oft. ’
“Will they at you!” some one in
quired : for there was a ring of spectators
around the performers by this time.
“As likely as not, if they are sharp
set, and yr u lay yourself out to be
eaten, hut ii ain’t their habit to go for
human flesh. Roots, nuts, berries, bugs
and any small gan e they can pick up,
satisfies their humble appetites as a
general thing ”
The one-eyed hostler leaned against
the post, stroked Pomp’s fur affection
ately. and continued somewhat in this
tyle:
Rears are particularly fond of fat,
iuicy pigs: and once give ’em a taste of
human flesl —why, l shouldn’t want
my children to be playin’ in ihe woods
within a good many miles of their den!
RISING FAWN, DADE COUNTY. GEORGIA. THURSDAY. MAY 20. 1880.
Which reminds me of old Two Claws,
as they used to call him. a hear that
plagued the folks over in Bridgetown
where I was brought up, wall, as much
as forty years ago.
He got his name from the peculiar
shape of his foot, and he got that from
trifling with a gun-trap. You know
what that is—a loaded gun' set in such
a way that a bear or any game that’s
curious about it must come up to it the
way it p’nts; a bait is hung before the
muzzle and a string runs from that to
the trigger.
He was a cunning fellow, and he put
out an investigating paw at the piece of
pork before trying his jaws on it; so in
stead of gettin’ a bullet in the head, he
merely had a bit of his paw shot off.
There were but two claws left on that
foot, as his bloody tracks showed.
He got off; but his experience seemed
to have soured his disposition. He owed
a spite to the settlement.
One nijvht a great row was heard in
my uncle s pig-pen. He and the boys
rushed out with pitchforks, a gun, and
a lantern. They knew what the trouble
was, or soon found out. A huge black
bear had broken down the side of the
pen; he had seized a fat porker, and was
actually lugging him off in his arms 1
The pig was Kicking and squealing, but
he bear had him fast. He did not seem
at all inclined to give up his prey, even
when attacked. Tfe looked sullen and
ugly, but a few jabs from a pitchfork,
and a shot in the shoulder convinced
him that he was making a mistake.
He dropped the pig and ran away be
fore my uncie could load up for a another
shot. The next morning they examined
his tracks. It was old Two Claws.
But what spi’lt him for being a quiet
neighbor was something that happened
about a year after ihat.
There was a roving family of Indians
encamped near the settlement, hunting,
fishing and making moccasins and
baskets, which they traded the whites.
One afternoon the Red-Sky-of-the-
Morning wife of the Water-irnake-with
the-Long-Tail came over to the settle
ment with some to their truck for sale.
She had a pajmose on her back strapped
on a board: another squaw traveled
with her, carrying an empty jug.
Almost within sight of Gorman’s
grocery, Red*Sky took off her papoose
and hung it on a tree. The fellows
around the store had made fun of it
when she was there once before, so she
preferred to leave it in the woods rather
than expose it to the coarse jokes of the
boys. The little thing was used t < such
treatment. Whether carried or hung
up, papoosey never cried.
The squaws traded off their truck,
and bough*, with other luxuries of
civilization, a gallon of whisky. They
drank out of the jug, and then looked
at more goods. Then they drank again,
and from shy and s&gYt, as at
tirst, they giggled and chattel* like a
couple of silly white girls. T/Jrey spent
a good deal more time and imoney at
German’s than they would hadn’t
been for the whisky, but Ananiy they
started to go back thfoi'gh the yfoods.
They went chattering and girling to
the tree wheie the papoose had left.
There was no papoose there. 4,
This d’scoTerv sobered them. They
thought at first fellows ground
the store had played thrm a tftffc by
taking it away, hut by-and-by tßed-
Sky-of-the-Morniwg set up a shr* k.
She had found the board notoff,
but no papoose strapped to itpjrmly
something that told the story 0 *what
had happened. vS, >
There were bear tracks around the
spot. One of the prints
two claws. TY
The Red Sky-of-the-Morningv;£ent
back to camd with the news; and:'the
other squaw followed with the
When the Water-Snake- witfijthe-
Long-Tail heard that his papoose had
been eaten by the bear lie felt, Tsup
pose, very much as anjt white father
would have felt under\the circum
stances. He vow<d vengeance against
o’d Two Claws, but consolea himself
with a drink of the fire-water before
starting on the hunt.
The braves with him followed hik ex
ample. It wasn’t in Indian nature to
start until they had emptied the jug, so
it happened that old Two Claws got off
again. Tipsy braves an’t follow a trail
worth a cent
Not very long after that a woman in j
a neighboring settlement heard her
children scream one day in the woods
near the house. She lushefl out, and
actually saw a bear lugging oft her
youngest. '
She wasa Bickly, feeble sort of woman,
hut such a sight was enough to give her
the strength and courage of a man. She
ran and caught up an ax. Luckily she
had a big dog. The two went at the
bear.
The old fellow had no notion of losing
his dinner just for a woman and a mon- j
grel cur. But she struck him a tremen
dous blow on the back; at the same
time the pup got him by the leg. He
dropped the youngest one to defend
himself. She caught it up and ran,
leaving the two beasts to have it out to
gether.
The bear made short work with the
cur; hut instead of following the
woman and child, he skulked off into
I the wood.
The settlers got together for a grand
hunt, but old Two Claws—for the tracks
| showed that he was the scoundrel—es
caped into the mountains, aDd lived to
matte more trouble another day.
The child? Oh, the child was scarcely
hurt. It had got squeezed and scratched
a little in thelinai tussel—that was all.
As to the bear, he was next heard of
in our settlement.
[ The hostl? r hesitated, winked his one
| eve with an odd expression, put a fresh
*“ Faithful to the Right, Fearless Against the Wrong.”
quid into his cheek, and finally re
sumed :]
A brother-in-law of my uncle, a man
by the name of Rush, was one day chop
ping in the woods about half a mile
from his house, when his wife went out
to carry him his luncheon. She left two
children at home, a boy about five years
old, and a baby just big enough to
toddle around.
The boy had often been told that if
he strayed into the woods with his
brother that a bear might carry them off,
and she charged them again that fore
noon not to go away from the house;
but he was an enterprising little fellow,
and when the sun shone so pleasant and
the woods looked fo inviting he wasn’t
to be afraid of bears.
The woman stopped to see her hus
band fell a big beach he was cutting,
and then went hack to the house, but,
just before she got there, she raw the
oldest boy coming out of the woods on
the other side. He was alone. He was
white as a sheet, and so frightened at
first that he couldn’t speak.
“ Johnny,” said she, catching hold of
him, “ what is the matter?”
“A bear,” he gasped out at last.
“ Where is your little brother?” was
the next question.
“ I don’t know,” said he, too much
frightened to know anything just then.
“ Where did you leave your brother f’
said she.
Then he seemed to have gotten his
wits together a little. “A bear took
him!” said he.
You can guess what sort of agony
the mother was in.
“Oh, Johnny, tell me true! Think!
Where was it? ’
“In the woods,” he said. “Bear
came along—l run.”
She caught him up and hurried with
him into the woods. She begged him to
show her where he was with his little
brother when the hear came along. He
pointed out two or three places. In one
of them the earth was soft. There
were fresh tracks crossing it—bear
tracks, There was no doubt alr>ut it.
It was a terrible situation for a poor
woman. Whether to follow the Dear
and try to recaver her child, or go at
once for her husoand, or alarm the
neighbors; what to do with Johnny
meanwhile —all that would have been
hard enough for her to decide even if
she bad had her wits about her.
She hardly knew what she did but
just followed her instinct, ana ran with
Johnny in her arms, or dragging him
after her, to where her husbaud was
chopping.
Well, [continued the onc-eved hostler,]
I needn’t try to describe what followed.
They went back to the house, and Rush
took his rifle and started on the of
the bear, vowing that he would not
come back without either the child or
the bear’s hide.
The news went like wildfire through
the settlement. In an hour ard a half a
dozen men, with their dogs, were on the
track with Rush. It was so much trou
ble for him to follow the trail that they
soon overtook him, w T ith the help of the
dogs.
But in spite of them the bear got
into the mountains. Two of the dogs
got up with him and one. the only one
that could follow a scent bad his back
broken by a stroke of his paw. After
that it was almost impossible to track
him, and one alter another the hunters
gave up and returned home.
At last Rush was left alone, hut
nothing could induce him to turn back.
He shot some small game in the moun
tains, which he cooked for his supper,
slept on the ground and started on the
trail again in the morning.
Alone in the forenoon he came in
sight of the bear as he was crossing a
stream. He had a good shot at him as
he was climbing the bank on the other
side.
The bear kept on, but it was easier
tracking him after that by his blood.
That evening a hunter, haggard, his
clothes all in tatters, found his way to a
backwoodsman’s hut over in White
Valley. It was Rush. He told his
stoiy in a few words as he rested on a
btool. He bad found no traces of his
child, but he had killed the bear. It
was old Two Claws. He had left him on
the hills and come to the settlement for
help.
The hunt had taken him a round
about course, and he was then not more
than seven miles from home. The next
day, gun in hand, with the bearskin
strapped to his back—the carca o s had
been given to his friend, the back woods
man—he started to return by an easier
way through the woods.
It was a sad revenge he had had, but
there was a grim sort of satisfaction in
bringing home the hide of old Two
Claws.
As he came in sight of his log house,
out ran his wife to meet him, with —
what do you suppose?—little Johnny
dragging at her skirts, and the lost child j
in her arms!
Then, for the first time, the man
dropped, but he didn’t get down any ;
further than his knees. He clung to
his wife and baby and thanked God for
the miracle.
But it wasn’t much of a miracle, after
alt.
Little Johnny had been playing around
the door, and lost sight of the baby—
and, maybe, forgotten all about him—
when he strayed into the woods and saw
the bear. Then he remembered all that
he had heard of the danger of being
carried off and eaten, and of course he
had a terrible fright. When asked about
his little brother he didn’t know any
thing about him, and, l suppose, really
imagined that the bear had got him.
But the baby had crawled into a snug
place under the side of the rain-trough,
and there he was. fast asleep all the
while. When he woke, two or three
hours after, and his mother heard him
cry, her husband was far away on the
hunt.
“True-this story I’ve told ?” added
the one-eyed hostler, as some one ques
tioned him. “ E/very word of it!”
“But your name is Rush, isn’t it?*’
I said.
The one eye twinkled humorously.
“My name is Rush. My uncle’s
brother-in-law w T as my own father.”
“And you?” exclaimed a bystander.
“1,” said the one-eyed hostler, “am
the very man who warn’t eaten by the
bear when I was a babv!”
Tbe Trials of An Engaged Girl.
I Home Journal,J
After all, the yoke of marriage is an
apparatus that should sit on two pairs
of shoulders; and there is nothing very
seemly in seeing a girl wait to wear her
own part of it until it has been nicely
padded with quilted satin. Looking at
the matter from a less elevated point of
view, long engagements are rather tire
some in restricting the liberty of girls.
Miss Jenny, who is going to marry Mr.
Simpson as soon as that hopeful young
man gets a living, is obliged in the
meanwhile to deny herself many pleas
ures, least Simpßon should take offense.
She must eschew balls; she must take
care that nobody majceslove to her; and
for this purpose she is obliged to let all
chance comers be speedily informed of
her engagement. Unhappily, the sym
bolism of rings is always unregarded,
else the dhance comers might discover
the fact for themselves by looking at
the second finger of Miss Jenny’s left
hand. If Jenny has no sisters to talk
of her betrothal, and if her mother does
not accept timely hints to mention it on
every necessary occasion, the girl is
rather embarrassed for words in which
to convey the news delicately to strang
ers. Bhe cannot allude to Mr. Simpson
as “Johnny—’’that would be too fa
miliar; she cannot speak of him as
‘ Simpson,” for this would sound
strange; but if she refers to him fre,
quentlv as “Mr. Simpson,” strangers
might draw undesirable inferences from
her apparent familiarity with a person
thus coldly specified. Then the engaged
girl has to put up with a great deal of
chaff, which is only pleasing for a w bile
and afterwards becomes intolerable
The trials of matrimony are frequently
commended to her impatient attention
by way of paternal rebuke: “Ah, my
dear, ydft Will find out that I was right
when you are a wife yourself!” and so
forth: or a snub is put upon Iprjfco
hasty wish to consider Dy
the reminder that she is
yet, and that there is many a slip be
tween cup and lip. Sometimes Simp
son is aciually held up to her as a
bogey: “My dpir, I don't think Mr.
Simpson would quite approve of vour
wearing that cheriy ribbon;” “Jenny,
dear, I think Mr. Simpson would be
sadly grieved if he teard you express
those opinions,” or ‘*pny, I am sure
Mr. Simpson would not think it proper
that you should play croquet with Capt.
Mallet.” Therelis enough in a ! l this
to make a girl sitkown and scream.
Production of Mohair—A New Indus*
try.
The Legislature of Virginia recently
granted a charter for the incorporation
of a company to be known as the “Vir
ginia Angora Company.” The capital
of the Association is p'aced at $2,000,-
000, of which amount $130,000 is said
to have already been subscribed. Ac
cording to its charter the company is
permitted to hold in fee two hundred
thousand acres of land, and to issue
bonds, but not without the consent of
nine-tenths of all the stockholders. A
contract has been made with California
parties to transfer their stock of thor
oughbred ADgoras to Virginia, and to
furnish also twenty thousand ewe goats
of original Maltese stock, to be pur
chased in and brought from Mexico.
Although the industry has been suc
cessful in California, yet the conditions
for success are so far superior in the
mountains of Virginia as to warrant
the transfer of the herds and an expen
diture of about $200,000 in makiug the
transfer and in improvements.
The Angora goat is a peculiar animal
found only in a very limited area in
Asia Minor, at an average elevation of
four thousand feet above tide, in lati
tude about 40° North, a winter climate
as low at zero of Fahrenheit, and a
moderately hot climate in summer, con
ditions, al! of which, as well as the kind
and quality of herbage, are all fulfilled
in the location secured in Virginia. By
permitting no breeding except from pure
thoroughbred bucks, the fourth cross
gives a wool as fine, long and silky as
the pure stock, and scarcely distinguish
able by experienced experts.
The production of mohair will be the
principal business of the company, but
other imoortant industries will be car
ried on in connection with it, such as
hides for morocco, tallow for ihe highest
grades of faccy soaps, furs, robes, mats
and trimmings, Swiss cheese from the
milk. The weathers will all be slaugh
tered at a proper age. They become
very large and fat, and the flesh is
much superior to mutton, and scarcely
distinguishable from the best venison,
for which the saddles are usually sold.
numbers of hogs will be fattened
on tne refuse, and g'ue and fertilizers
manufactured from the scraps and bones.
The horns command high rates for cer
tain manufactures.
“Love, faith, patience—the three es
sentials of a happy life,” says a philoso
pher. Yes, hut cheek, money and ener
gy are the three essentials of business
life.
The Important Young Man.
[Oil City Derrick.l
There is another fool who talks loud
in the ckrs, and by the same we know
that the only time he ever left home was
when he went on a cheap excursion to
Philadelphia, and carried a lunch in his
pocket. He has the silver fever, and is
going to Denver. This fact he an
nounces as soon as the car starts by bid
ding good-bye to his friends, and telling
them in a voice like a hotel gong to
write him all the news, and remember
his postoffice address will be Denver,
Colorado.
He goes at once to the newsboy, and
while buying a five cent cigar iniorms
him that he presumes he can’t get as
good cigars in Denver as he can here.
The newsboy at once makes an estimate
of his foolishness and says: “ Going to
Denver, are you?” “ Ob, yes,” is the
response, as if it was an every day oc
currence for him to go there. And the
newsboy marks him for a victim and
plies him with pamphlets and candies,
apples and oranges, and reckoneth up his
profits that night at ten per cent, ad
vance over previous days.
He who is going to Denver returneth
to his seat and informs the man in his
rear that “ piles of fortunes are to be
made in Colorado.”
“ Going there?” asks the passenger,
not for information, for that has been
given, but to test the young man’s
foolishness.
“ Oh yes,” he says.
He leans forward to the man in the
front seat, and says: “ How far you
goin’?”
“ Pittsburg. How far are you.”
“ Pm going to Denver.”
“ You are?”
“Ob, yes.”
The conductor comes along and takes
his ticket. “Do I get a train through
to Denver as soon as I change?”
“Yes. Going to Denver ?”
“ Oh, yes.”
And the conductor winketh, and the
passengers emi'e at his conceit. But the
time of rejoicing cometh wnen the pas
senger in the front seat gets off and his
place is taken by a man whclls not at all
curious. To him sayeth the young man
for Denver, “ Pleasant wea'her.”
“ Yes.”
“Probably it is cooler in Denver?”
“ Probably.”
“ I’ll find out in a few days.”
No answer. The young man feels as
if his importance wasn’t recognized and
makes another attempt:
“ 1 spose there’s a pretty good chance
to make a fortune in Colorado?”
“ I don’t know.”
“ Well, I’m going there to find out.”
Another silence, during which the
passengers look out of the lront window
and smile. The young man draws a long
breath ad starts it again:
“Not many feliows who’d go so far
from home, and depend on themselves
for a living.”
The silence becomes oppressive, but
the young man is persevering. He leans
over, taps the man on the shoulder, and
says:
“ You had better goaloDg to Denver
with me.”
Then the passenger wakes up and he
says, “ Thunder, young man ; I’ve lived
ia Denver ten years.”
And the passengers weep not, neither
do they wail, hut verily (hey feel that
their daysare’full of fun and pleasure.
Xo Charge for Pain.
, After Dr.. Hall, of Elmira, had given
his price foT- extracting a tooth without
pain to a caller at his office a few days
ago, the man desired to know his charge
if it was taken out with pain. The
obliging doctor replied that, in consid
eration of their close relationship, both
being descendants of the man whom
Elmira is delighting to honor, viz.,
Adam, he would extract the tooth and
throw in the pain without extra charge
—in fact, the relationship \Mngo close,
he was willing to make a handsome re
duction in the price. At this offer
visitor jumped into the chair and had
the aching molar out, but was dissatis
fied, and desired to avoid payment, be
cause the doctor’s dexterity was such
that the tooth was out before he was
fairly aware of it and the amount of
pain. He says that another time he
will go to some office where, if he bar
gains for pain, he will get it, and not
have his tooth pulled out so quick that
he don’t know it. Home people are
never satisfied.
A Forged Letter.
IKrom Iht Oil City Derrick.]
“ I’ve got a letter here,” said Colonel j
Solon yesterday, “which some one ur '
nuther is tryin’ to play off on me as a
reg’lar letter from Joe Kuntz,” and the
Colonel i laced the letteron the desk. It
was neatly written and Joe’s name was
signed to it correctly.
“Certainly, Colonel, that’s Joe’s let
ter,” said we.
“No, sir-ee bob, no sir,” said the Colo
nel, very positively, “that air letter is a
forgery; coz Joe stutters worse than
whisky flowin’ outen a bottle, an’ this
’ere letter reads as straight ss a mill
race.”
And the Colonel wouldn’t be con
vinced that Joe didn’t stutter in his
writing.
A man and Jus wife were passing a
house where a lot of furniture was dis
played, apparently for sa’e. The man
said to his wife, “I will step in and ask
the auctioneer if there is an auction
here.” He soon returned and said,
“The auctioneer says there is no auction
here but there is an auction near.” His
wife was quick enough for him, howev
er, for she asked, “Vendre they sell?”
TERMS--SI.OO per Annum in Advance.
NUMBER 29.
PASSING SMILES.
The Guinea hen talks too much to be
a good layer.—[ New'Orleans Picayune.
A remabk that always provokes
“smile”—“ What will yeu take?”
A “ Fireman ” wants to know how to
prevent hose from bursting? Don*
wear ’em.
“Whom shall we marry?” asks an
exchange. If you are a man you will
marry a woman.
In use of sounding words men are
quite rash. They talk of mystery, and
mean but bash.
Eve came Bilently into the world on
the first man’s sleep year. Hhe saw
him and Adam at once.
The man who hesitates is lost, but
the woman who hesitates gets a fresh
grip on her side of the argument.
The Sunday Herald has a long article
entitled “ Froude on Bunyan.” We
congratulate Mr. Froude that the bunion
is not on him.
The difference between a church or
ganist and the catarrh iB said to be that
the one knows the stops and the other
stops the nose.
A country editor has written to his
member of Congress that they must re
move the tariff from paper pulp, adding
that he will get on a tariff they don’t.
An observing butcher has discovered
that the man who can get aiong with
the least amount of meat is the one who
insists on having the gratuitous liver.
A negro, after gazing at some Chinese,
shook his head and solemnly said: “If
de white folks be so dark as dat out dar,
I wonder what’s de color oh de black
folks ? ’
The most interesting letter in the al
phabet that we could ever appreciate is
a kissing B.—Yes, and as we have safß
before, it is the sweetest How can we
letter B?
Massachusetts deacons go out on
Sunday morning in spring in search of
the dainty and coy little trailing ar
butus and take home a handkerchief
full of brook trout.
A Michigan girl has been arrested
for carrying a jevolver. That is right.
No female should be allowed to wear
bangs in her hip pocket.— Philadelphia
Chronicle.
Few barbers shave their own faoes.
This is explained by the perfectly rea
sonable fact that no barber is foolish
enough to make himHelf the voluntary
victim of bis own stories.
It is estimated that there ate four
million unmarried women in this coun
try. Every one of them looks under
the bed previous to retiring, however,
and hopes to find a man some time.
A man may mash the stove and things
And black a fond wife’s eye;
And she may pound him with a club,
But true love cannot die.
The New England Farmer inquires.
“What cows should farmers keep?”
Fubbs suggested that they i-hould keep
their own, as a serious inconvenience
often arises from a propensity to keep
those belonging to other folks.
“ Ice is ice, this year,” exclaims ap
exchange. We make a note of the fact
for fear that our readers may have
formed the impression that it was mo
lasses candy, or hash, or even baked
beans. It is best not to let this com
munity grow up in darkness.
Man’s lot is not a happy one. No
sooner is he free from his mother's
apron strings and slipper thau he be
comes the slave of some tyrant in pink
and white and marries. His wife then
bosses him until a baby comes along,
and then the baby bosses the whole
family.
A contemporary contains a long
article entitled “ The Effect of Smoking
on Boys.” It is not right to smoke on
bovs. It imparts a disagreeable odor to
their clothes, and when they go home
thev arouse suspicions in the minds of
their mothers which are difficult to
eradicate.
“ How many glasses did the Herr
Doctor drink, Gretehen? ’ asked a Ger
man landlord of his daughter, on his
guest leaving the cellar. “ Eight,
father,” replied the girl. “ The ras
cal !” exclaimed the irate host. “ Why,
he gave me strict orders never to drink
more than three!”
Two young men were passings farm
house where a farmer was trying to
harness a mule. “Won’t he draw?’
said one of the horsemen. “Of course
he will,” said the farmer. “He draws
the attention of every fool thiTt r asses.’
“Mother ” said the seven-year-old son
of an energetic mother not a thousand
miles from Rochester, the other day, as
he watched her vigorous manipulation
of a kitchen utensil, “ you ought not to
go to heaven.”
“ Why not, my son? ’ in a surprizrd
manner.
“ Because you would wear out your
harp before eternity was half over,” was
the quiet reply of the young philoso
pher. _____________
A Fatal Italian Disease.
An Italian correspondent of the Cancrf
calls attention to an insidious and
frightful fatal disease called “pellaga,”
of which no less than 97,100 Italians
are said to be dying, at the present
time, the number of victims represent
ing 3 62 per 1,000 of the whole popula
tion, and in the infected departments,
especially in Lombardy and Venice, a
higher proportion than ever, occurred
during tne worst cholera epidemic in
France. The disease usually runs a
slow course, like consumption. Its
cause is believed to be the exclusive
consumption of ftiaize in a deteriorated
I condition and the unhealthy state cf
! the hovels in which the rustics live.