Newspaper Page Text
tlailc County %cw?,
TRENTON, GEORGIA.
It is said that 1000 bushels of grain
arc killed by heat in the West where one
is injured by frost.
A French Ministerial organ confesses
that the country runs into debt at the
rate of §00,000,000 a year.
So mr.ny murderers have escaped ar
rest in London of late years the people
are said to be losing laith in the police
as agents of public safety.
w i ■wwwtr iarn—s——
Seme idea of the substantial progress
of the working class in America may be
gained from the fact that savings bank
deposits in eight years have increased
nearly §20,600,000.
The Czar’s life is so often threatened
lately that it looks, asserts the New
York Graphic, as if he might have to go
to war to somewhat unite his subjects
and save his own life.
The home crop of rice being short
last year, large quantities of the East In
dian article have been imported. The
finest in the world is aaid to be grown
in Java from Carolina seed.
It is only sixty years ago that the first
stage carrying the United States mail
westward passed over the Allegheny
Mountains. The road taken by thestag6
was from Cumberland, Md., to Wheel*
ing, a distance of 160 miles.
A Congressman recentl-y dictated a
speech to the graphophone, and alter its
delivery turned the cylinders over to the
official reporters, who used the latter in
stead of their notes in reporting the
speech for the Congressional Record.
Guy’s Hospital, the richest of the en
dowed charities of London, has been
obliged to ask for a share of the Hospital
Bunday Fund. The agricultural depres
sion is the cause. The endowments ol
the hospital consist chielly of landed
property.
Many high-toned dogs are buried in
an expensive manner in the prominent
cemeteries about New York city. En
terprising and humane individuals there
propose the founding of a cemetery for
pet animals which shall be finely laid out
and dedicated to the remains of pets.
A new saddle that had been invented
was thought worthy of introduction into
the German army. As a final trial a
squadron of fifty cavalrymen are now
taking a four weeks’ ride through Prus
sia under the personal command of &
General. They ride forty-five miles a
day.
M. Kergovatz, a chemist of Brest,
electrotypes bodies after death. By hia
process the body is encased in a sl<in of
copper, which prevents further change
or chemical action. If desired this may
again be plated with gold or silver, ac
cording to the taste or wealth of the
friends of the deceased person.
■■hiiib ■ ■uamaaaßMrawßoaß
Indians in the United States last-year,
cultivated 227,265 acres of land, and
raised 724,958 bushels of wheat, 934,-
972 bushels of corn, 512,137 bushels ol
oats and barley, 521,010 bushels of vege
tables. and 101,828 tons of hay. They
also owned 358,334 horses and mules,
111,407 head of cattle, 40,471 swine,
and 1,117,273 sheep.
Professor Edward A. Freeman sayst
44 ‘Anglo-Saxon’ is such a very foolish
word that I never use it. I see no reason
why the two branches of the English
folk should be called in the nineteenth
century by an antiquated description
used—for a particular reason—in char
ters of the tenth and eleventh centuries,
and hardly anywhere else.”
A committee appointed to consider
the situation of the unemployed poor in
a Western city report that “works
started for the relief of the unemployed,
even though they be in some degree use
ful and beneficial, are in the long run an
injury instead of a benefit to the com
munity, by discouraging the real spirit
of work and thereby diminishing self
reliance and enterprise.”
The Steel Car Company is said to be
constructing afire-proof steel <ar at Bos
ton, which will contain nothing that can
burn except the upholstery, and even
that is constructed of uninflammable ma
terial. Not only immunity from fire,
but an increase in strength, a decrease in
the liability to telescope, and diminish
dead weight are expected to be some of
the good features of th’e new car.
M. Chevreul, the aged French scien*
tist, has just reached his one hundred
and second birthday. It is probable
that he will not live through the winter,
as his strength is rapidly failing. He
spends the greater part of his time in
bed, though he goes out driving on
pleasant days. Parisian students who
called on him a few'days ago were not
allowed to see him, but we e received by
his son, a charming youth of seventy
nine.
thjs belfry chimes.
Hark! a Averry peal we’re ringing,
With. Joyous clash We cleave the air,
God’s, peace and blessing gayly flinging
O'ur a happy bridal pair.
Slowly down the aisle they’re passing,
Proudly ’neath the archway gay,
' Par above sweet music’s crashing- /
H-eed the warning now we say.
Time for sorrow, time for song—
Comes and goes the fleeting breath;
Time for sorrow, time for song
Life to-day,'to-morrow death.
Now changed our note, so soft and low.
As they turn the burial sod,
And bowed the mourners weeping go,
Foe a soul returned to God.
With muffled sob we clang so slowly,
As round the grave they kneel and pray,
And mingled with those words so holy,
Sad our warning still wo say:
Time for sorrow, time for song—
Comes and goes the fleeting breath,
Time for sorrow, time for song—
Life to-day, to-morrow death.
—John Muir, in Harper's Monthly.
M TRIUM PIL
Some ten or fifteen miles beyond the
mountains in the immediate vicinity' of
Trieste, over among the rugged passes
of the Carnic Alps, there is a small ham
let of huntsmen’s dwellings, and among
them, though somewhat isolated, is a
sort of rough inn, which used to serve as
wassail house for the hunters,and also as
a shelter for travelers on their way to and
from Laybach. It was a* cold, bluster
ing evening in March, and though there
was no storm, yet the blast#, as they came
sweeping and whistling, whirling and
howling down the mountain sides, failed
not to drive the people to the cheer of
the fireside.
Within the bar room of this humble
inn were collected some half dozen of the
Alpine hunters, who passed the mug and
tankard with good zest, now breaking
into a happy chorus, and anon lending
a willing ear to the tale and joke, while
nearer to the blazing fire sat two men,
strangers in the place, who had arrived
just at nightfall and engaged entertain
ment and rest for the night. These two
travelers looked not much unlike com
mon men, but yet there was a something
about their countenances that attracted
more than passing attention from the
hunters. They did not behave exactly
as honest men would be supposed to
have behaved, for in all their move
ments there was an evident aim to escape
a too critical obsenalian. They had
horses in the stable, and were also pro
vided w’ith large traveling sacks, which
sacks were either entirely or nearly
empty. Ever and anon one or more of
the hunters would cast a furtive glance
towards the strangers, and onc§ or
twice they endeavored to draw the twain
into conversation; but the two men per
sisted in remaining by themselves, and
ere long they retired to the room which
had been allotted for them.
“Marcelline.” said one of the hunters,
a stout, middle-aged man, addressing a
blooming maiden, who stood behind the
bar, “does Altzorf return to-night?”
“No, sir,” returned the girl’ “he
comes not till the morrow.”
“And has yourmaster left you alone?”
asked the hunter.
“Oh, no. Altzorf has left with
me.”
“But Lubin is only a boy—a mere
lad.”
“Well, what of that?” replied Mar
celline, looking with a somewhat in
quisitive glance at the hunter.
“O, nothing,” said the man. evidently
endeavoring to hide, as much as possi
ble, the fears or suspicions he enter
tained; “only I do not exactly like the
looks of those two men whom you have
just shown to the room.”
Several of the hunters immediately
coincided with this opinion, but Marcel
line laughed at their suspicions.
“What an idea,’’ she said. ‘‘Why,
what do you take them for?”
“It is not impossible that they are
robbers,” returned the first speaker.
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Marcelline.
“Robbers in such a place as this! Let’s
see—there arts about twenty groshen in
the drawer, and I have exactly seventeen
cruitzers in my little box up stairs!
What a place for robbers! My master
took all the money with him to Trieste,
save what I have named.”
“Marcelline,” said the first hunter
who had spoken, as he stepped forward
and bent his head over the bar, “do you
know if your master received in trust a
large wooden box from an old monk—
who went lately to the convent of St.
Cecilia?”
“Yes, he received such a one,” replied
the maiden, “and it is even now locked
up in his strong room.”
“That box contains the massive silver
plate and ornaments of his convent. The
monk left it until his return.”
“Well, ’tis not likely that those men
can have heard of that,” Marcelline re
plied, betraying a slight surprise at the
knowledge she had just received ; “and
if they had, they would not surely dare
to rob the house.”
“I don’t know about that,” returned
the hunter. “Even in large cities these
robberies take place. You had better
let Justin or Roland remain in the house
to-night.”
“O, no, I had rather not—folks w ould
talk,” uttered the maiden, as she looked
with a deep blush upon two fair youths
among the hunters, who had been thus
designated to her.
Marcel line remained firm in her de
termination to accept of no assistance,
or rather guard, from the hunters, and
ere long they de{ arted to their several
homes. The maiuen was left alone in
the bar-room, for Lubin was yet in the
stable; and as she found herself - thus
solitary, she could not repress the feel
ing of fear that came over her. While
the stalwart hunters had been there she
had been bold and safe; but now, that
they were gone, she could not banish
the spectre that intruded upon her lone
liness. The two men—the stranger
travelers—had indeed exhibited any
thing but pleasing'countenances, and
poor Marcellinc now began to repent her
self that she had not accepted the kind
hunter’s offer.
Half an hour passed, and Lubiu came
in from the stable. Marcellinc. how
ever, sad nothing to him of what had
transpired, but only requested him to
be in readiness to respond to her sum
mons in case she should have occasion to
call him during the night. The boy
then went to his bed, and once more the
maiden was left alone. Nothing broke
the stillness of the night save the blasts
that howled among the Alps, and for
half an hour longer she sat by the fast
I decaying embers in the fireplace. The
I maiden thought surely that if the
| strangers meditated harm, they would
| have been, ere this, on the move; and
j with the throbbing of her fear-laden
J bosom somewhat quieted, she raked up
embers upon the hearth, extinguished
the lamp that hung above the bar, and
then taking her candle she started for
her roam,
Marcelline had passed through the
narrow entry, ascended the stairs, and
had her hand upon the latch of her ow n
door, when a strange sound from the
room of Lubin arrested her attention.
At first she thought that the boy might
be talking in his sleep, but the sound of
hustling feet drove that idea from her
; mind, and as the idea flashed upon her
that the robbers were astir, she turned
to flee for help; but she was too late, for
hardly had she turned toward the stairs,
when she was confronted by one of her
stranger guests.
“Do you want anything, sir?” asked
i Marcelline, hardly conscious of what
! she uttered, but usiDg the phrase merely
from the force of habit.
“Yes, pretty one, I do,” the man re
turned. “I want Altzorf’s strong box.”
“Mercy, sir! Y'ou would not rob
us?”
“O, no—not you. It’s only those
baubles which belong to the convent that
we want; so bestir yourself and show us
where they are.”
“I shall shriek, sir. I shall cry out
for help!” exclaimed Marcelline, as she
essayed to start for the stairs.
“No, no, sweet one,” the villain re
turned, at the same time laying a rough
grasp upon the maiden’s arm and draw
ing a pistol from his pocket. “Your
stable boy is already secured, and we
shall treat you in the same way. But
mark me, if you are quiet, and tell us
where the box is hidden, no harm shall
come to you; but if you do not—”
The villain silently finished his sen
tence by significantly raising his pistol
to the girl’s head, and at that moment he
was joined by his companion, who had
just come from Lubin’s room. Marcel
line at first thought of resistance, but she
soon found that she could gain nothing
by that, and besides, the robbers not
only threatened her life, but they vowed
that they would break in sundpr every
door and partition in the house till they
found the box. Under these circum
stances, the girl thought it best to reveal
the hiding place of the box', trusting,
however, that something might yet turn
up to assist her; and accordingly she led
the way to the barroom, back of which
was a small apartment. Taking a key
from the money drawer, she unlocked
the door of the back room, and pointing
to a small closet in the further corner,
she said:
“There, sirs, in that closet is the
monk’s box, but my master has the key
in his own possession, and so, if you
would open it, you must needs force the
lock.”
“You are ready with your wit, pretty
one,” said one of the robbers, as he cast
a scrutinizing glance into Marcelline s
face. “I fear to trust you too far, so
you must excuse us if we just secure you
till after our ob is completed.”
As the man spoke he led the girl back
to the barroom, and taking from his
pocket a piece of stout cord, he pro
ceeded to lash her to a chair. She stoutly
resisted, and even attempted to utter a
cry, but a napkin soon stopped her
power of utterance, after wh ch her
hands w’ere lashed behind her, and then
she herself to the chair. After
this, the robbers t ok a few tools from
one of their sacks and proceeded at once
to force the stout closet door.
For a moment after Marcelline had
been left alone she almost gave up in de
spair; but her woman’s wit came to her
aid, and a gleam of hope lighted up her
countenance. From where the villains
were at work they could not look into
the’ barroom, and after listening for a
moment or two to assure herself that they
were fairly busy, she moved her chair
noiselessly towards a table, upon which
a candle had been left burning. By con
siderable exertion she managed to get
hold of the candlestick with her teeth,
and then carefully set it upon upon a
chair. A moment more she listened,
and then she turned her back to the can
dle in such a manner as to bring the
outer cord into the blaze. It re piired
not half a minute to burn of! the cord
that had secured her to her seat, and
then, bending over, she took the back
of the chair in her teeth and carefully
moved it out o r the way. Then she
turned again and placed the cord that
bound her wrists in the blaze. The
lashings burned, and so did 7 her flesh,
but with ii perfect self-devotion she
heroically withstood the pain, and in a
few moments she was free!
Marcelline now breathed more freely.
She bent her ear, and she found that the
villains had broken open the door and
entered the closet. She heard them
prying at the box which contained the
silver plate, and she knew that no time
was to Le lost. The key was still in the
lock of the door that opened into the
back room, and quick as thought the
hcrcic girl sprang forward and closed it
upon those beyond. The key was turned,
and Msrcelline then ran to the front
door, unlocked it. threw it open, and
sprang into the highway. It was but the
work of a few moments to rouse some of
the hunters, and ere long the two robber
travelers were in safe custody. They
not only lost their bootv, but also their
liberty, and on the next day were safely
conveyed to Trieste and delivered up to
justice. Lubin was found in his room,
with his mouth bound up and his arms
pinioned to his chair; but the satisfac
tion of being released from his un
pleasant situation made him forget the
indignities he had received.
That little inn is still open to travelers,
hut Old Altzorf keeps it no longer.
Justin, the hunter, is its host, and the
fair Marcelline is its hostess. Yankee
Bla le.
Indian* Relieved in Dreams.
A leading Indian chief in time of great
enmity between the tribes, would secrete
himself in woods and caverns and call
upon the Great Spirit in prayer. Atten
tion was given to dreams, which at this
time were of particular significance. A
dream of a war eag e hovering near was
especially ominous, meaning victory.
After such a drea - n#Ue chief immediately
appeared among his people and sum
moned them to war, assuring them thai
the Great Spirit was on their side.
THE HINDOOS AT HOME.
A LOOK INTO THEIR RELIGIOUS
AND PRIVATE LIFE
Horrible Practices of Fanatical De
votees—Hindoo Houses anti Tlicir
Furnishings—Amusements.
A New York Mail and Express re
porter has been having a talk with the
Rev. Demas Osborne, native-born mis
sionary of India, on the home life of the
Hindoos.
“Do you not meet with much hostility
in your work:” he was asked.
“Very much. ,lt is continual uphill
labor, battling against hostility and in
sensibility on the part of the natives.
The natives are generally incited by the
priests to oppose us in every way. They
make no distinction whether the mis
sionary is native or foreign born, and
they have tried to prevent me from
preaching in every way short of force.”
“What about the Hindoo religious
devotees.”’
“They make a sight that you never
want to see a second time. Let me re
fer you to a retired quarter of the city
of Haridwar where the religious de
votees or fakirs ply their trade and
practice their austerities. The city is a
shrine of pccular sancity and is visited
by throngs of pilgrims throughout the
year. There on one hand is a group of
‘Sunyasis,’ with ashes rubbed over their
naked bodies, a narrow cloth round
their loins, with great coils of artificial
hair matted above their heads, clotted
with dirt, sitting between blazing fires.
Here is the ‘Kha anta-yogi’ with artificial
sna es fastened around his forehead,
strings of human, bones round his neck,
covered over witli a tiger skin and face
smeared with ashes. There sits a
‘Mouni,’fulfilling his vow of perpetual
silence, almost nuKed, refusing all efforts
to engage him in converse; and
further ou a ‘Paramhangsa,’ perfectly
nude, with hair and beard and nails
grown like those of a wiid animal,
seemingly regardless of anything around.
Yonder, again, is the ‘Urdu Yahu,’ who,
to fulfill a vow to Vishu, has held up his
right aim so long that it has become
stirf. rigid and immovable. There is
another lying upon a bed of spikes,
another standing on his head, and yet a
third buried under ground so com
pletely that but for a minute opening in
the earth, over which the dust gently
swells and falls, you would expect no
living person below; and here is the
“Aghor Panthi,’ almost naked, carrying
in the left hand a human skull and a pan
of burning coals in his right. Each has
his disciples and followers and around
each throngs of pilgrims gather, while
not a few are positively worshipped as
scarcely inferior to the gods themselves.
“How do the Hindoos live?”
“The private dwelling of the Hindoo
is at some distance from his business
premises. In the back of the street,
through a lane, you come to a brick-
Jouilt, white-plastered house with flat
roof and low entrance. Pa3s in through
the narrow door and you come to a
range of small, low roofed, ill-ventilated
room-; beyond them, you reach an open
court yard, at one end oi which is a well
with a rough pulley wherewith to draw
water. On the other side are more
rooms of the same kind, in which the
women and children live. You are
struck with the straightifess and smallness
of the rooms aud the absence of ventila
tion and light. The doors are few and
low, each door-leaf is a solid plank,
without glass or Venetians. When they
are closed the room is dark, save where
some rays of light glimmer through
narrow, barred w’iudows. ”
“Whatabout the furniture aud furnish
ings?”
“In the outer rooms are a couple of
very rough, timber-bottomed chairs, and
a square wooden platform or dais, about
a foot high, called a ‘taklit.’ Upon this
the neighbors and friends seat the nselves
for an evening eha', while the chairs are
reserved for honored and extraordinary
visitors. The inner rooms are still more
barely furnished. A few heavy, stoutly
built boxes with lock and key for
valuables; some round baskets, plastered
ind gaily colored, for ordinary things; a
few low stools; rough, but strong bed
steads, and a large array ot cooking
utensils, scrubbed and burnished bl ight,
ire all that the rooms contain. Indeed,
this is all the stock of furniture and
furnishing which the wealthiest Hindoo
home possesses. Sometimes, in the case
of those who have the means and are
accustomed to receive European visitors,
there is an outside reception room,
adorned with gaudy pictures and mirrors ;
;n gilt frames; but the interior apart
ments are stereotyped upon the model I
have described. The Hindoo’s wealth
is not invested in furniture or upholstery,
but in soiid jewelry, and profusion and
variety of cooking, eating and washing
utensils.
“How about the women?”
“The women of the house rise early,
too, dispatch a hasty toilet, and proceed
straight to their daily work. The first
duty is to cleanse the cooking and other
utensils, chiefly of brass. '1 his is done
with the utmost thoroughness, with
moistened clav or sand and water. Then j
the rooms are swept and tidied up.
Water for culinary purposes is then
drawn from the well either by the wo
men themselves or by a female servant.
These preliminaries being settled the
good wife prepares to cook the
morning meal. Of course, the wheat
has been ground before. When this
needs to be done, the women rise as
sarly as three or four in the morning,
and sit at the grindstone, which occu
pies an important part of the domestic
institution. Sitting opposite each other
xnd taking hold upon the handle which
causes the upper stone to revolve sharply
upon the lower, which is fixed to the
sarth, the women, either ladies of the
house or servants hired by them, grind
all the wheat needed for the present use
of the family.”
“Are their amusements anything like
ours?”
“Some are and some are not. The
Hindoo's views on dancing are directly
antipodal to the European’s. No re
spectable Hindoo would dream of being
associated with this exercise,save as spec
tator; and as for his wife, daughter and
sister tiguiing in the ‘graceful maze,’
why, the idea is simply inconceivab’e.
The dancing girls are a distinc t class,
and usually of avowedly irregular life.
They are hired, sometimes at consider
able expense, lor these occasional per
formance-?. Not unfrequently these girls
aro notably pretty and graceful in per
son ; some are possessed ofj singular
beauty. They are not»only dancers but
singers, and their quality and value are
judged of by their looks and their vocal
and dancing ability. Gaily arrayed in
silks and tinsel, with tinkling bells as
the feet, usually two girls perform at
the same time, singing to the accom
paniment of violins and guitars. The
dancing is so unlike the European no
tion of the movements of the “light
fantastic toe,” that no description can
convey a just idea of the performance.
It consists as much of postures and atti
tudes and gestures, as of movements and
gyrations. At. the Holi festival such
dancing parties abound; huge scaffold
ings are erected upon which large num
bers of dancing girls perform in view of
multitudes; while pleasure boats glide
up and down the river with dancing
parties in full swing.”
SEEECT SIFTINGS.
Anaesthesia was discovered in 1844.
Babylon contained 144 square miles.
Rome contained 5,000,090 inhabi
tants.
New Haven manufactures most fish
hooks.
The assagai is a weapon or instrument
of warfare among the Kaffirs.
Catechisms are said to have been com
piled in the eighth or ninth century.
Cats as a general thing do not like
water, though they are good swimmers.
The first advertising agency in Americs
was established by Orlando Bourne, in
| 1828.
It's well known that" there are abso
lutely no genuine chamois skins in the
market.
Along in the first decade of this cen
tury the New York Bowery was a coun
try road.
There is some talk of rebuilding the
Colosseum at Rome and turning it into
a roller skating-rink.
One day’s newspaper and magazine
mail in the New York Postoffice was 134
tons, 267,580 pounds.
It took Jonah a day to get into the
middle of Nineveh, which occupied
more space thau Loudon,
Commodore Vanderbilt made his great
fortune of §120,000,000 after he had
reached the age of sixty-five.
A visitor to has discovered
that Miles Standish never forgave John
Alden for marrying Mists Priscilla.
William Thomas, of Blotcher, Ind.,
owns a silk bandana handkerchief that
has been in his family more than a hun
dred years.
A Dayton, .Ohio, blacksmith has made
a horseshoe from nails gathered from
every State in the Union, and presented
it to the President.
Pall-Mall is an ancient game in which
an iron ball was struck with a mallet
through a ring or arch of iron. It gives
the name to a London street.
The Oregon Alpine Club will anchor
a copper box to the very apex of Mount
Hood. It is to be a depository of rec
ord to all making the ascent.
Alexander Anderson, M. I)., the first
American engraver on wood, was born
in New York, April 21, 1775, and died
in Jersey City, N. J., January 0, 1870.
For eighteen cents in Wales an Amer
ican traveler was served with a plentiful
luncheon of cold meats, thin bread and
butter, some gooseberry tarts and ginger
ale.
It is claimed that the Isabella and
Catawbagrapes both originated in North
Carolina, and were cultivated there for
years before they became known to
lame.
It is announced that the body of Max
well, the English chlorolormer, is to be
buried at sea by his family, thus leaving
no spot on earth to remind them of the
fate of their wayward boy.
Morton is a local name, from the
parish of Morton in Nithsdaie, Dumfrie
shire, Scotland. Mor, m the Gaelic,
signifies big, and ton is from dun, a
hill; Morton,the big or great hill.
Mother Hubbard, it h is been decided,
had a saintly origin. She is identified
with St. Hubert, the patron of dogs and
the chase, who is represented in a long
robe, a veritable Mother Hubbard gown.
While workmen were sawing timber
at Fredericksburg, Ohio, they found a
lock of red hair deep’y embedded in a
large tree. The hair had been there for
many years, as it was covered by fifty
one growths of the tree.
The only Indian in Dakota to whom
naturalization papers have been issued is
the Rev. Luke P. Walker, a graduate of
the Indian School of Carlisle, Penn. He
is a full-blooded redskin, but has com
pletely severed his tribal relations*
The expression, “a wild goose chase,”
arose from the peculiar action of wild
geese. W hen one takes the lead the
others follow blindly, no matter what
the obstruction or danger of the path
may be. It is easy to see how the ex
pression is applicable to some people’s
actions.
—s "■ '
Fortune from a Grape Seed.
A woman now living near Bulfalo, but
whose former home was in Euclid town
ship, just east of Cleveland, Ohio, some
years ago was left a widow in straitened
circumstances, a small vineyard being
her means of snpport. Among the
varieties growing therein was one that
her husband had recently set out for
trial. The puny vine bore the next
season but a single bunch of grapes.
Grape vines are raised from cuttings
and roots, and not from seeds, but the
widow, out of curiosity, planted the
seeds from one of these grapes. They
sprouted and did so well that the young
vines were transplanted, and when
sufficiently developed bore handsomely
a variety of grape that differed radically
from the original seed. It was a lus
cious table grape. A neighboring nursery
man had his attention drawn to the new
grape, and make the widow a opposi
tion, which was accepted, to take cuttings
from the vine, give the variety a name
of its own, and put it on the market,
paying her a royalty. The result was a
fortune for both parties. The grape
became an immediate fa orite, and in a
few years the woman received §40,000 in
royalties as her share of the profits.
She sold her little vineyard and retired
to her native place in New York, there
to live at ease the balance of her life on
the money brought her by the seeds of a
single grape planted almost by chance.
Cincinnati Enquinr.
A JAR OF ROSE LEAVES.
Myriad roses fade unheeded, '
Yet no note of grief is needed;
When the ruder breezes tear them,
Sung or songless, we can spare them,
But the choice it p?tals are
Shrined in some deep orient jar,
Rich without and sweet within,
Where we cast the loss leaves in.
Life has jars of costlier price
Framed to hold our memories.
There we treasure baby smiles,
Boyish exploits, girlish wiles,
All that made our childish days
Sweeter than these trodden ways
Where the fatos our fortunes spin,
Momory, tess the rose le.ive3 in!
What the jar holds, that shall stay;
Time steals all the rest away.
Cast in love’s first stolen word;
Bliss when uttered, bliss when heard;
Maiden’s looks of shy surprise;
Glances from a hero’s eyes;
Palms we risked our souls to win;
Memory, fling the rose leaves in!
Now more sombre and more slow
Let the incantation growl
Cast in shreds of rupture brief,
Subtle links ’twixt hope and grief;
Vagrant fancy’s dangerous toys;
Covert dreams, narcotic ioys
Flavored with the taste of sin;
Memory, pour the rose leaves in L
Quit that borderland of pain!
Cast in thoughts of nobler vein,
Magic gifts of human breath,
Mysteries of birth and death,
IV hat if all this web of change
But prepare for scenes more strangs;
If to die be to begin?
M einory, heap the rose leaves in!
Thomas Wentworth liijcinjson.
lIUMDR OF THE DAY.
A large snowdrop—An avalance.
In the human race the butcher holds
the steaks.
strange to say, a cross road is ofteD
very pleasant.
The best way to put down rents is to
put up houses.
Working like a horse—A lawyer draw
ing a conveyance.
A touching sight—A small boy invest
igating a newly painted door.
A great waste of effort—The child
that cries for an hour never gets it.
The man who does everything “on his
own hook” is likely to get caught one of
these days.
The railroad with the narrowest gange
most frequently has the largest mort
gage.—Harper's Bazar.
“One good turn deserves another,” re
marked the cook as she gave the griddle
cake a flip over. —Hotel Jf til.
An Irishman recently of a man
who had tried in everyway, but couldn’t
commit suicide to save his life.
The man who brings suit is always
somewhat sad. There is something
plaintiff about him.— Bids' urg Chronicle.
“ ‘No los? without a gain,’ you say—
Philosopher, thou art too wise;
I’ve lost my credit; who g tins,! pray!”
“Your creditor,” he replies.
And now there is talk about a Rico
Trust. Won’t the capitalists interested
have a regular pudding ?—Rochester
Post.
“This is a nice box to be in,” as the
fellow said when he found himself
locked up in the refrigerator. —Bansvillt
Breeze. -
When a man and a woman discuss the
subject of matrimony, one seldom gets
the better of the other. It usually re
sults in a tie.
The man whose legs have been ampu
tated may be the worst sort of a desper
ado, but he will never die with his boots
on. —Lincoln Journal.
There is only the difference of a letter.
Before marriage man yearn-, for woman,
and after marriage he earns for her.—
Bing ha niton Republ ica n.
“What is your business?” “A glass
worker.” ,“A glass-blower, eh;” “N
--no; well, yes, I do blow the foam off a
glass before I ar,rik it.”
The remarks of the stump orator who
wants to please labor, capital and every
body, are like the stovepipe when it
falls—very much disjointed.
“Fire has a very l#d temper,” re
marked the Judge.” “Ah!” replied the
Major, tentatively. “Yes, it* is fre
quently put out.”— Pittsburg
A man, Mumm by name, has chris
tened his twins Minnie aud Maximilian.
As an example of minimum and maxi
mum this cannot be beaten.— New York
Sun.
“Matrimony,” said a modern Bene
dict, the other day, “produces remark
able revolutions. Here am J, for in
stance, changed from a sighing lover to
a loving sire.”
A traveler, finding himself add his
dog in a wild country and destitute of
provisions, cut off his dog’s mil and
boiled it for his own supper, gi.ingth#
dog the bone.
• Chicago boasts of the most economic
poiing lady in the West. When she
washes her face she always laughs so as
aot to have so much face to wash. Com
mercial Advertiser.
strange sights.
I saw a cow-slip through the fence,
A house-fly in a store;
I saw a wood-chuck up the road,
And a stona-pick on the floor.
—Cleveland Herald.
First Deaf and Dumb Man (talking
with hands) —“What did you give that
mail money for? You can’t hear his
music.” Second Deaf and Dumb Man —
“That is the reasou I gave it to him.”—
Texas Siftings.
“Julia, perhaps I am staying too late.
Is not that your father tapping ou the
floor overhead?” “Yes, Arthur, but
don’t go yet. He isn’t dangerously mad
until he goes tearing along the hail beat
ing the gong.”— 2 ime.
That wa3 a contradictory sort of an
effusion written by a discharged clerk to
his former employers: “September 1,
1888. Roe & Doe: Gentlemen. You
are no gentlemen. Respectfully yours,
John Bmith.” —Harper J La.ar.
Farmer (to hired man) “Feemsto me
you spend a good share of your lime sit
ting on the feDce.” Hired Man —“Yes;
I have done something in the literary
line, and I am collecting material for a
book to be entitled: ‘Life on the Rail.’
—Burlington Free Press.