Newspaper Page Text
Bate Unity Tines.
TRENTON, GEORGIA.
Russia is ■willing to spend $90,000,000
*n a new navy.
Geologically and mineralogicalty, Nic
aragua is said to be the richest spot in
America.
The project of neutralizing the banks
Df Newfoundland during the fishing sea
ion is exciting public interest.
It is said that unless the present con
ditions are changed the complete de
struction of the Adirondacks is inevita
ble.
Fourteen ex-Senators are said to in
habit the Kansas Penitentiary, though
only one of them ever conducted legisla
tive business in the interest of that State.
Australia has just made to a projected
railroad a grant of 16,000,000 acres, or
20,000 acres a mile. The grant to the
Pacific railroads amounted to about 6400
acres a mile.
The Dakotas plume themselves, accord
ing to the Commercial Advertiser , upon
artesian wells of such force and number
as to make manufacturers of all sorts well
within their possibilities.
Dr. Chaille,the well-known statistician.
Btates that the average life of woman is
longer than that of man, and in most
parts of the United States woman’s ex
pectation of life is greater.
There are, it is said, five men in
America worth $50,000,000 each, fifty
worth $10,000,000 each, 100 worth $5,-
000,000, 200 worth $3,000,000, 500
worth $1,000,000 and 1000 worth $500,-
000 each.
The Atlanta Constitution believes that
Spain holds on to Cuba as a matter of
national pride. The island has proved
an expensive possession. In the insur
rection from IS6B to 1878 20,000 lives
were lost, and the total cost to Spain was
about $700,000,000.
“Life is a delicate possession, after
all,” concludes the Detroit Free Press.
“A Michigan child was recently fatally
injured by falling upon a lead pencil,
and last week an English actress was
killed by the accidental puncture of liei
neck with a knitting needle.”
Miss Rose Porter, the well-known writei
of religious books, is a most remarkable
woman. Although an invalid, and forced
to dictate from her bed, she has already
written some fifteen books, all of which
have had extensive circulation. She lives
in a pretty brick house in New- Haven,
Conn., and is much thought of in that
city- _____
The Albuquerque Democrat says:
“New Mexico covers a vast lake, and as
wells are being sunk in different parts of
the Territory this fact is being assured.
A well sunk at Gallup has penetrated a
body of water sixty feet in depth, aud
wherever a hole is sunk to the water it is
found to exist in inexhaustible quanti
ties.”
The wide-embracing arms of civiliza
tion are rapidly stretching out to take iu
the whole world. One of the latest nota
ble illustrations of this is the announce
ment made the other day that a cable will
soon be laid from Bermuda to Halifax. In
a short time, therefore, one can no longer
get out of the world, so to say, by making
a voyage to the Bermudas.
lii a recent talk with a delegation of
clergymen and others who called upon him
to urge a more Christian policy in dealing
with the Indians, General Harrison said
emphatically that he should do his best in
the direction named. He added, how
ever, that “the Indians with whom he
must be most concerned at present were
not on the frontier, but here in Washing
ton. ”
It is generally predicted that Oklahoma
will be settled up rapid
ity. The Oklahoma Valley is one of the
finest in the United States, with an abund
ance of timber and an altitude of 1600 feet
above the sea. If any cattlemen are ill
advised enough to remain in the Territory,
observes the New York Tribune , they may
expect short shrift from the boomers, who
will have many old scores to settle.
The San Francisco Chronicle says: The
Chinese Mandarins who have had charge
of the repairs to the banks of the Yellow
River could give Caucasian boodlers
points in stealing public money under the
guise of doing State work. The notori
ous California brush dam frauds are en
tirely eclipsed by the Chinese official,
who coolly built an embankment of millet
stalk*, and dirt on top of the ice which
formed on the Yellow* River, and then
declared that the great breach was satis
factorily closed.
HER LIKENESS,
Her eyes are bright as bright can be,
Like sun-rays on a summer day I
Her hair is like a sunset crown
O’er fields of wheat just turning brown,
Anri in her lips the mantling blood
Is like a ripe pomegranate bud.
Her heart is true as true can be,
Like some stanch (thk beside the sea,
Anri her small hands are pearl and pink,
Like peach-blooms by a river’s brink!
Her voice is like a gentle breeze
Borne through the languid laurel-trees.
But, ah! her soul that few may know,
Is strong as fire and pure as snow!
William H. Hayne, in lAppincott.
HOW EPH GOT EVEN.
BY HORACE TOWNSEND.
“Where are you going, Ella?” asked
Judge Lawton, and then, without wait
ing for an answer, he went on in a
grumbling tone: ‘‘l suppose you’re going
to take something to that lazy vagabond
Eph’s wife. Well, go if you want to,
but mark me, Ella, you’ll be agreeing
with me before long, that the more you
do for people like that, the more they
will impose upon your good nature.”
The Judge, having made his little
speech with all the promposity of manner
which was a part of himself, turned on
his heel with much deliberation, and
nibbing his fat white hands together, as
though to wash them free from all parti
cipation in his daughter Ella’s deed of
charity, marched into his study, and
closed the door with a bang.
Mr. Lawton, who was generally called
Judge by his neighbors, because he was
not only the richest, but the most digni
fied man in the little Long Island village
of Shoreport, was a widower, with but
one child, Ella, who birth had cost her
mother her life, and who was a fair
haired, blue-eyed child of about fifteen.
Until she was ten years old she was
known as one of the most thorough tom
boys the neighborhood possessed. There
was not a horse on the place on whose
back she had not tasted the forbidden
pleasure of a bare-backed ride, and there
was scarcely a tree in the woods at the
rear of the house she had not climbed, to
the destruction of frocks and the terror
of her old nurse.
Nothing, therefore, could well have
been more distressing to a girl of her
disposition than to be debarred entirely
from exercise. And yet that is what be
fell her some five years before the time
of which I write.
Swinging one day on a lower limb of
the old gnarled pear tree which over
shadowed the orchard fence, the branch,
already decayed, gave way under the vi
brations, and Ella fell heavily to the
ground.
At first she thought nothing of it, but
day by day the aching in her back con
tinued, and grew worse, until at length
her father, noticing the pain she evident
ly suffered, sent for old Dr. Hart.
The doctor made a careful examina
tion, softly whistling to himself as he did
so, according to his habit.
“Lassie,” he said, “you must lie down
and not move for a long, long while if
you want to get well.” And the long
while proved to be months and months.
At first the girl rebelled at the confine
ment, and many were the peevish excla
mations which escaped her. Then a
change crept over her, and the irritabil
ity by degrees departed, to be succeeded
by a sweetness and gentleness which
caused her to be still more beloved by
the household.
When at length she could sit up, and
the good old doctor, holding her wasted
little hand in his own wrinkled paw,
which still had a touch as tender as a
woman’s, told her the bitter truth, she
received it without a tear or a murmur.
“Ella,” said the doctor, “you’ll bp
able to use your arms, and you’ll soon
feel as strong and well as you ever were,
but I fear me, lassie, that you’ll never
walk again.”
And so it was. A cleverly-constructed
chair was procured for her benefit, and
in this she was wheeled about the village
by faithful old Isaac, who had been in
the Judge’s employ since he was a lad.
A year or two later her father bought
her a little phaeton, with a pair of well
matched dainty ponies, and iu this she
was able to drive herself about without
assistance, till there was not a road for
miles around that had not echoed under
the beat of the pokes’ hoofs.
But her pleasures were not all selfish,
She delighted in looking after the needs
of her poorer neighbors, and had brought
sunshine and hope into many a dark and
cheerless cottage in Shoreport.
It was a fine spring day when her
futher imparted to her the valuable por
tion of hifi stooa of worldly wisdom I
have quoted, and SJla was sitting in her
wheeled chair in the great square hall of
the old-fashioned house which for gener
ations had belonged to the Lawtou fam
ily. On her lap lay a little covered
basket, from beneath the lid of which
peeped out the white folds of a spotless
napkiu. As her father spoke, she merely
smiled, and turning to old Isaac, said:
“Don’t believe papa when he talks like
that, Isaac, lie doesn’t mean a word of
it. Now, take me down to Eph’s cottage,
for I am afraid that poor wife of his is
laid up again, and needs what I have here
for her.”
There was no doubt but that Eph was
a sad rascal, and though, as Ella re
marked, her father did not mean all he
said, for, with all his pomposity, the
Judge was generous, that was not a little
truth in it so far as Eph was concerned.
Some five or six years before, a colored
man and his wife had tramped into the
village, covered with dust and carrying
their worldly possessions in an old tat
tered valise, and rented an old tumble
down cottage. Eph was an* idle, good
natured, worthless vagabond; and Eph’s
wife was a hard-working, careful and
saving woman. Mrs. Eph (if the couple
had another name no one ever used it)
took in washing, went out to help in
housework, and in other ways made
enough to support herself and her hus
band, who passed his time fishing from
the rickerty old pier, shooting stray quail
or duck with a ru.<fty old gun he had
picked up, hugging the stove in the gen
eral store of the village. And yet Eph
was a favorite, for though he would not
stick steady to any employment, he was
always ready to do any sman odd job,
and was perfectly satisfied with a ‘ ‘Thank
ye, Eph,” for paymdht.
At last one winter his wife fell sick,
and a hacking cough, the result of ex
posure, threatened to turn into consump
tion. Eph tended her as carefully as a
trained nurse, but the slender stock of
savings soon went, and the couple would
have been hard put to it, had it not been
for the kindness of the Judge’s little
daughter.
Summer came and the sick woman
seemed to revive, and in spite of the
doctor’s orders, insisted on taking up
work again, Vhile Eph, who during her
illness had actually earned some money,
relapsed into his old shiftless ways. He
was passing the Judge’s house in the dusk
of a summer evening, on his return from
a day’s fishing, and lie paused, meditat
ing whether no not he should slip up to
the kitchen and leave a string of fish
with his “best respect fo’ Miss Ella,”
when he found himself violently run into
by the Judge himself.
“What are you doing around here,
you skulking vagabond?” roared
Judge, whose temper was none of the
best, aud w r hose pet corn Eph had un
wittingly trodden on in his effort to re
cover his disturbed balance. ‘ ‘Looking
round for what you can steal, eh?”
“I begs yer pardon, Jedge,” said Eph,
with not a little dignity. “But I ain’t a
skulkin’, and I ain’t never stole nuffin’ in
my life. No, sah. I may be brack, but
I’se hones’, I es.” And he strode indig
nantly off, leaving the Judge still more
enraged from the consciousness that he
had been in the wrong. But the Judge
was obstinate, and when he had once
committed himself to a statement, he
never changed his mind,
‘ ‘l’ll be bound that was just what he
was after,”*he muttered to himself, as he
entered the house.
That night the Judge’s house was
broken into and articles of value, in
cluding some trinkets of Ella’s, were j
taken.° When one of the scared servants '■
brought the news to the Judge, the old
gentleman said not a word, but with a
grim smile as much as to say “I knew it,
I told you so,” he dressed, put on his hat
and stumped down the village street to
Eph’s cottage. Early as it was, he found
Mrs. Eph already bending over the'wash
tub.”
“Mornin’,” said the Judge, abruptly.
“Fo’ grashus sake, ef it ain’t Jedge
Lawton,” stammered the astonished Mrs.
Eph.
“Was your husband home all last
night?” continued the Judge.
“Lemme see,” pondered Mrs. Eph.
“W’y, no, Jedge, not orl night. He jes’
slipped out to look a’ter some of dem ar’
fishin’ lines o’ his’n, Dat’s wheer he’s
gone jes’ now, Jedge.”
‘ ‘Thank you, my good women; that’s
all I wanted to know,” said the Judge,
bis smile of sati|***tir>n deepenirur. and.
he was striding fPffffhe street again, leav
ing Mrs. Eph staring open-mouthed after
him.
When Eph came home to his dinner he
founcßAlat Raikeyghe constable, sitting
in *ldug compassionately
at tin* jeeping Mrs. Eph, and before the
unforfcsuate Eph knew where he was, he
was arrested by Mat on a warrant sworn
out by Judge Lawton, and an hour later
was on his way to the jail of the county
town, vainly protesting his innocence,
For two months Eph lay there await
ing trial, and it is not unlikely that he
would have been sent to prison, so set in
his conviction was the Judge that he had
in Eph secured the burglar.
Luckily for Eph, the discovery of some
of Ella’s jewelry in a New York pawn
broker’s shop led to the arrest and sub
sequent confession of two tramps, who
had found the Judge’s parlor window
conveniently open, and had hurriedly
helped themselves to all of value they
could carry off without attracting notice,
Eph was released, of course, but he
came out of jail a changed man. Not
only did his unjust arrest, and the con
sequent degradation of being led through
the street of Shoreport handcuffed, weigh
upon him, but his wife had died while
he was in prison, and nothing could con
vince him that his misfortune was not the
cause of her death.
His former light-hearted recklessness
was sucoeeded by a moody brooding over
his real and fancied wrongs. Even when
the gentle Ella came to visit him, hi
turned on her like an enraged lion.
“Your fader say I done stole his old
tings, we’en I ain’t ben nowhar nigh
your house, Miss Ella. He shet me up in
jail, an’ he killed my ole woman. He’s
rich, and I’se po’. He’s w’ite, an’ I’se
brack, but sho’s you bawn, Mis’ Ella,
I’se got to git eben wif him. I’se got to
git eben, suah!” And he turned his head
away, and refused to speak another word.
This was all the more mortifying to
poor Miss Ella, as she had pleaded Eph’s
cause again and again to her father.
“I’m sure it was not Eph, papa,” she
said. “For one thing, I’m sure Eph
would never have taken my favorite
silver bracelet, even if he had been
wicked enough to steal the other things.’’
“Ah, you’re only a girl, my dear,” was
the only answer she got; but after all the
girl was right, and the Judge was wrong.
The winter was about over, and Eph,
who had a bard time to get along, and who
had been sinking lower and lower, was
walking along the high road on his way to
Farmer Beilows’s,
The farmer had promised him a sack of
potatoes in return for various small ser
vices rendered, and Eph was going to get
them. He was slouching moodily along,
as was his custom nowadays, when the
sound of wheels behind him made him
draw aside to let the vehicle have the mid
dle of the road. As it passed, he looked
up and saw that it was Ella, her pale cheeks
aglow in the frosty air, securely bundled
up in furs in her little phaeton, and speed
ing her ponies to their utmost. She waved
her whip, and nodded to Eph as she
passed, but he, his whole nature turned to
gall, took no notice of the friendly saluta
tion. He gazed after her, though, with
an ugly look on his once good-humored
face, and muttered to himself:
“What’s dat de pahson done tole me
wunst. ‘Pride goes befo’ a fall!’ Ya-as,
Mis’Ella, pride he goes befo’ a fall,” and
he plodded on.
A couple of hours later Eph was re
turning along the same road, his sack of
potatoes slung over his shoulder. He
seemed in somewhat better spirits,
though the chance encounter with the
daughter of his enemy was still uppermost
in his thoughts. He hummed the air of
an old plaintive plantation song as he
slouched along, but he had set words of
his own to the tune, and they ran some
thing like this:
“ ’Possum climb up a mighty tall tree,
En larf w’en he hear de nigg&h call;
But he shets his mouf w’en de tree’s cut
down.
Hit’s de pride dat goes befo’ his fall.”
He was still humming the last line for
about the twentieth time as he drew near
a turn in the road, on the other side of
which a branch of the local railroad line
ran across the road and made a surface
crossing. The shrill whistle of an ap
proaching locomotive drowned the last
words of his song, when it was succeeded
by a piercing scream and a cry for help,
several times repeated. Eph threw down
his bag of potatoes, and hurriedly sham
bled forward.
For a moment the horizontal rays of
the rapidly declining sun dazzled his
eyes, and he only saw a black mass stand
ing across the railroad track. Another
instant, and he was abreast of it, aud in
a flash the situation was clear to even his
dull intellect. One of the wheels of
Ella’s phaeton had in some way got
wedged fast between the ends of two rails
which, contracted by the extreme cold,
left an open space, which had acted as a
trap for the narrow tire. She could
neither advance nor recede, aud her
crippled condition rendered her helpless
and unable to stir. She gave an implor
ing glance at Eph, who remained, how
ever, motionless. The memory of his
wfongs, his wife's death, his lingering
months in jail, his wrecked reputation,
the sneers of his neighbors at the “jail
bird,” surged in his brain. Another
whistle from the locomotive, and again
Ella looked at him imploringly.
They could see the engine like a
huge, hungry Minatour rushing forward
as if eager to seize his prey, the engineer
with one arm across his eyes as though to
shut out the tragedy he knew was com
ing, the other bearing hard on the re
versing lever. And in a fraction of a
second Eph’s thoughts changed. He re
membered the girl’s kindness to his wife,
her gentleness to himself, the kindly ad
vice she used to give him, her merry
laugh when he told some quaint negro
legend of “Brer Rabbit,” and his com
panions, and he hesitated no longer,
though already, for his own sake, he had
waited too long. A leap, a roar and a
whirr from the passing train—no one ever
knew how it was done, but as the rattling
cars sped by, Ella was lying shaken but
unhurt on one side of the track, the
the ponies were kicking and plunging in
the ditch, while across the road lay a
huddled motionless heap of shattered
humanity.
The train had slowed up, and careful
hands raised Ella, and a kindly stranger
was bathing her forehead. As she looked
round vaguely, she saw a circle of train
hands and curious passengers round s
prostrate figure on the other side of the
road, and heard the whispered remark on
the still, frosty air:
“He’s alive, but dying fast.”
“Take me there,” she gasped; and
when they remonstrated, an imperious
wave of the hand secured the fulfillment
of her request. As they laid the crippled
girl on the hard road by the dying Eph,
he seemed to feel her presence, and
slowly opened his eyes, while a faint
smile parted his gray lips.
“I’se done ax your pardon, Miss Ella,”
' he feebly murmured.
“Oh, Eph, ask my pardon? Why, you
saved my life, dear Eph.”
“Yes’m. But I wuz proud, and dom
take no notice w’en you said ‘good after
noon,’ Miss Ella. I’se been proud, but
—” and the voice grew fainter and faintei
I’se had my fall.” The big eyes closed,
and in his fall he had risen. So Eph got
even after all.— Once A Week.
Whittled a Wooden Typewriter.
A newspaper receives many curious
letters in the course of the year. Per
haps one of the most extraordinary let
ters ever sent to the Detroit Free Brest
came the other day from Ingersoll, Mo-
Lean County, Dakota. It is a type-writ
ten letter. The type used is smaller
than that of any of the existing commer
cial typewriters, but is wonderfully clear
and distinct. The writer of the letter is
Lewis O. Fjterli. Mr. Fjserli must have
an extraordinary amount of perseverance
and ingenuity. He has mastered the
English language so that he writes flu
ently and well in it. When the Free
Press announced that it would give S3OOO
in prize? for stories, and stated that
type written MS, would be preferred, Mr.
Fjserli thought he would compete. Not
having a typewriter he didn’t growl
about the proviso but got out his jack
knife and actually made a wooden type
writer, using book type to print the let
ters. The result shows better work than
that made by any typewriter at present
in the market.
The Helm Wind.
During recent years some scientific at
tention has been given to the meteoro
logical phenomenon known as the Helm
wind, which occurs only on the Cross
Fell range of mountains in England.
This range is 2900 feet high, and drops
off abruptly to the west from 1000 to
1500 feet in a mile and a half. With an
easterly wind, a cloud forms on the sum
mit of the range, while parallel with it at
a distance of two or three miles a slender
roll of dark cloud—called the Helm bar
—appears in mid-air. A cold wind
blows down the sides of the Fell until
nearly under the bar, when it suddenly
ceases. The Helm wind proves to be less
rare than has been supposed, thoba ; hav
ing been observed 41 times in 1885, 03
in 1886 and 19 in 1887.— Trenton (N. J.)
American.
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
HOW TO RENOVATE BLACK CASHMERE.
Boil a handful of tea or peppermint
leaves if you design to renovate black
;ashmere in a pot of hot water, strain,
ind in the decoction wash the cashmere.
When clean, rinse thoroughly, wring and
wrap in white muslin until nearly dry,
which should be in about twenty-four
hours; iron on the wrong side while
damp.— Detroit Free Press.
HOT WATER.
Applied to a bruise, hot water will allay
pain and prevent discoloration. It has
superseded medical “eye-waters” in the
treatment of inflamed and aching eyes.
An American author, whose excellent eye
light was wonderful, when one consid
ered her age and the immense amount of
literary labor she performed, attributed
it mainly to the custom of bathing her
eyes freely in water as hot as could be
borne, night and morning, a habit con
tinued for many years. For the bath,
hot water is incomparably better than
cold, which contracts the pores and thus
roughens the skin.
Florence Nightingale says: ‘ ‘ One can
cleanse the whole body more thoroughly
with a quart of hot water that with a
tubful of cold.”— Sunshine.
TO PAPER LIMED WALLS.
The lime-washed wall is brushed ovei
with a strong solution of alum, aftei
which the following preparation is used,
viz.: Eighteen pounds of finely powdered
white bole, a kind of clay to be procured
at the paint or drug stores, is softened
with water, the surplus water being
poured off; one and a half pounds ol
powdered glue are boiled with one gallon
of water until dissolved, and this is
mixed with the bole aud two pounds of
calcined gypsum; the mixture is forced
through a hair sieve by means of a stiff
brush, and is then diluted with hot w r ater
to the consistency of a thin cream. This
is laid on the wall, and when it has dried
the paper is put on in the usual wfty. A
good way to make the paper adhere still
more firmly is to first put on the news
papers and brush the outer surface well
with the paste as the papers are laid on;
the wall paper then adheres closely.
Some alum should be dissolved in the
paste to prevent the too common mold
which attacks the paste. — New York
Times.
CURRANTS ARE SMALL GRAPES.
A frequent error among those interested
In cookery is to suppose that the imported
articles called currants, used in fruit
cakes, mince pies, plum puddings, buns,
and the like, are a fruit resembling our
own black or red currants dried. In
reality these dried fruits which we call
currants are just as much raisins as any
thing that is offered under that specific
name, being only a small dried grape,
although of exceedingly small variety,
each grape no bigger than a common pea,
and each bunch but two or three inches
long. These little grape bunches are
picked and dried in the sun, and are so
full of saccharine matte, that the exuding
sugar crystallizes them into a compact
form of sufficient hardiness to require
considerable strength to open the mass
and prepare the fruit for packing, they
being then a second tinfe compressed,
this time by means of treading with the
feet, which process perhaps account for
a g#od deal of the dirt and gravel usually
to be found packed with them. The
grapes grow all through the islands and
adjacent regions of the Grecian Archi
pelago, and being exported originally
from Corinth, they were called corinths,
which word was gradually corrupted in
to currants, till the primitive plant and
its fruit were forgotten in the remem
brance of the little round berry of oui
own gardens, which might be dried from
now till doomsday without developing
sugar to melt them together as we find
the Zante currants melted. Harper'i
Bazar.
RECIPES.
Cabbage Cold. —Chop cabbage;
season with little salt and vinegar.
Sweeten with rich cream and turn over
cabbage just before serving.
Boiled Tongue.— Let it stand in
water over night, and in the morning
wash out the salt, which is put into the
crevices to preserve it. Boil in plenty of
water till tender. Remove the skin while
hot, and when the tongue is served gar
nish it with parsley.
Asparagus. —Cut the heads about five
inches Jong; let it stand in cold water
half an hour, then tie in bundles; put
the*i into boiling water, with salt to
taste* and boil twenty minutes. Take
them, from the water, drain, remove the
string and serve on slices of toast.
Beefsteak and Onions.— Cut the
steak three-quarters of an inch thick and
fry in hot butter, and when nicely brown
remove from the frying-pan and keep in
a hot dish before the fire; have in readi
ness a plateful of sliced onions seasoned
with pepper and salt, put them into the
pan and cover to keep in the steam; when
soft and brown pour over the steak and
serve immediately.
Spinach.— Pick over carefully, remove
the yellow leaves and cut off the ends of
the stalks. Wash in four or five waters,
then lay in a colander to drain. Put it
into a saucepan of boiling water, with a
tablespoonful of salt. When it has boiled
three minutes strain the water off and fill
up again with boiling water. Keep it
boiling till tender, which will be in about
ten minutes; squeeze it dry, lay it on a
dish and cut in squares.
Roast Lamb.— Procure a quarter ol
lamb, trim and roast in hot oven so as to
be cooked through and nicely browned
all around; make a gravy from the drip
pings in the pan, pour this gravy ovei
the lamb. Chop one large bunch ol
green mint very fine and mix with one
pint of vinegar and three-quarters of a
peuud of pulverized sugar, stir until
thoroughly mixed, and serve. This sauce
can also be boiled and cooled again to
make a stronger mint flavor. Wash off
the contents of two cans of French peas,
put in a saucepan with a piece of butter,
salt and pepper, toss over a fire to be
come thoroughly hot, and serve.
THE OLD VANE,
Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak I
Tho’ skies be blue or gray,
Here, from my perch, a word I speak
To all who glance my way.
Flushed by the morning’s earliest lights
Before the town’s astir,
Kissed by the starry beams of night
With every wind I whir.
Ever a message true I speak,
Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak!
Creak-arty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak!
The farmer heeds me well;
Over the fields, his hay to seek,
He hies, when rain I tell.
Slave of the breeze; yet tyrant I
To those who watch below;
Joy or regret, a smile or sigh,
Uncaring, I bestow.
Ever a message true I speak,
Creak-a-ty-creak ? Creak-a-ty creak!
Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak I
I watch the snow-elves weave;
Keen arrows of the rain so bleak,
Sun lances I receive.
All’s one to me; my task I do,
Untiring, year by year;
A lesson may this be to you
Whose glances seek we here!
Ever a message true I speak,
Creak-a-ry-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak!
—Oeorge Cooper , in Independent .
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
Dressed hens look chic.
Late habits—Night gowns.
A head gardener—The barber.
Court plasters—Awards for damages.
, Words of wait—“ Bring that bill next
week.” - -
Waiter’s epitaph—He couldn’t wait
any longer, so he went.
Better to be a loan than in bad com
pany was not written of our umbrellas.—
Life.
Even the tiger is not without affection.
He is very much attached to his paw and
maw.
Girls who use powder don’t go off any
quicker than those who don’t. —Boston
Courier.
The homely girl is seldom mentioned,
and the pretty one is also seldom men
shun’d.
The railway sandwich is an instance
where they never succeed in making both
ends meat.
Even the most unemotional man can’t
contain himself when he goes to sea.—
Terre Haute Express.
A Stray Thought.—De Few—“l have
an idea.” Van Riper—“ Can’t you find
the owner.”— Munsey's Weekly.
The press feeder sooner or later finds
that the press is intemperate. It often
takes five fingers.—New York Neics.
Tommy—“ What did your mother do
for your cut finger?” Little Johnnie—
“ Licked me for cutting it.”— Epoch.
Lobsters and babies are alike in one re
spect. They both turn red when they get
into hot water.— Burlington Free Press.
Artist-'-“What do you say to my new
picture?” Critic— 1 ‘I am not going to say
anything to it unless it says something to
me.”
“You can’t do anything without money,
my boy.” “Oh, yes you can.” “I’d
like to know what?” “Get in debt.”—
Statesman.
It is an indication that peppery times
are near when the salts are mustered for
action on board of a man-of-war.—
Boston Courier.
A long-winded artillery captain had
his pocket picked in Denver recently,
and his companions speak of him ns
“another rifled bore.”
The highest office in the gift of the
President is that of Postmaster at Mineral
Point, Col. It is 12,000 feet above the
sea level.— Norristown Herald.
The pretty young misses at church fairs
are continually laying themselves liable
so arrest on the charge of robbing the
males.— Rochester Post-Express.
Though a maiden’s voice be squeaky,
Yet it cannot be disowned,
That the dollars of her daddy
Make it Very silver toned.
—Detroit Free Press.
A Born Grumbler.—“l am the un
luckiest man living. Here I find a piece
of money, and it is only a nickle. If
iny one else had found it, it would have
been a quarter.”
She—“lsn’t Miss Ambler a perfect
daisy?” Mr. Jonathan Trump—“ Yes,
they are all daisies, but after awhile they
lose their petals in the game of ‘love me,
love me not.’ ” — Life.
“It is the partings in this world that
give us pain,” sadly sings a poet. It is
the meetings too. If you don’t believe
this, ask the man who has a note to
meet. —Boston Courier.
The old-time rushlight was even dim
mer than parlor gas. Still, the young
men of those days were very well satisfied
it and didn’t call early to avoid the
rush. —Terra Haute Gazette..
“You say your son is a painter, Mrs.
Browne. Is he a landscape painter?”
“No, I think not. His last job was on
the Galw ay flat house. He is more of a
firc-esgape painter.”— Harper's Bazar.
“You appear to be in good health,”
said a prison visitor to a convict. “It is
only in appearance, sir,” replied the con
vict, ‘ ‘for the fact is I am confined to my
room more than half the time.”— Sifting*.
A busy doctor of Scranton, Penn., sent
in a certificate of death to the health
officer, and inadvertently placed his name
in the space for “cause of death.” This
is what might be called accidental exact
ness.—Chicago Herald.
Ice in His Pocket.
A white roan from away down South
in the Okeechobee Lake region came
up to Gainesville on business at the
United Stites Land Office. While here
he saw the first ice he had erer seen.
He manifested great interest in the
frigid mbstanee, and put a half-pound
lump in his pants ] ocket to take home
to his family. He soon took it out
of his pocket, however, and as he did so,
3aid: “I am afe ud it will spile my ter
backer.”— Gainesville CFla.) News.