Newspaper Page Text
THE LINCOLNTON NEWS.
J. D. COLLEY & CO.,
YOL. I,
Home.
Ch! what is home? that sweet companion¬
ship,
Of life the better part;
The happy smile of welcome on the lip
Upspringing from the heart.
It is the eager clasp of kindly hands,
The long-remembered tone,
The ready sympathy which understands
All feeling by its own.
The rosy cheek of little children pressed
To onrs in loving glee;
^Je presence No matter of our where dearest and our best,
we be.
■^failing Though this, palace a prince may homeless live,
walls arfe nigh;
Raving it, a desert shore may give
The joy wealth cannot buy.
Hhing as the earth’s remotest span,
^widespread ||||ht is sacred as in ocean the foam,
breast of man—
^krihe thought of home.
R£RpREV°rd r, ■. destinies his human above, fate shall bind
I
Ihome of bis immortal mind
: Rod’s wider love.
MISS PROTHERO’S EARRING,
When old Sam Prothero, the million¬
aire, in a fit of unaccustomed tender¬
ness, gave his daughter the handsomest
pair of diamond earrings that money
could buy, he took tlie opportunity to
caution her for the fifteenth time
against holding communication with
her brother John. Of late years, since
his son had gone hopelessly to the bad,
the old man had been a very harsh,
parent to his long-suffering daughter,
partly owing to grief and disappoint¬
ment and partly because he refused the
womanly sympathy which she felt for
her scapegrace brother. Old Sam Pro¬
thero was an ill-tempered, cunning,
suspicious old man, and the unremit¬
ting precautions he took to prevent the
poor girl from rendering assistance to
her brother were a source of misery
and annoyance to her. Not only did
lie keep her as much as possible by his
side, but be made her account to him
for every farthing she spent, lest the
reprobate should profit by his sister’s
affectionate and generous disposition.
Life under these conditions and espe
ciallyjie the old man’s temper was irri¬
table and exacting to the last degree,
was a very trying ordeal, and the cease¬
less importunities of her brother did
not tend to make' her lot more agree¬
able. '
Ellen Prothero prudently locked her
diamonds up and said nothing about
them to her brother at their stolen in¬
terviews. In spite of her father’s vig¬
ilance she had from time to time as
sisted the young man, both in money
and by giving him trifling articles of
jewelry to pledge, and though she
■would willingly have saerificedher dia¬
mond earrings for the same unhal¬
lowed purpose, she dared not run the
risk of discovery by parting with such
valuable ornaments. But her prudent
reticence proved futile, owing indi
reetly to her father’s vulgar love of os
tentation. He permitted her one even
ing to go to a hall in the charge of a
chaperone on whose discretion he im
plicitly relied, and nothing would
please him but that she must wear her
new earrings.
“Don’t you think, father, they
would look too grand?” she urged, with
a foreboding that they would be safer
in her room upstairs.
“ Of course they would look grand,”
snapped the old man; “ that is why 1
want you to wear ’em. I didn’t give ’em
to you to hide away. I like people to
see that I can afford to give my gal
diamonds that’ll make their eyes
water.”
Whenever old Sam Prothero was
very much in earnest lie lapsed into
the vernacular which had clung to
him since the days when he conn
menced life with the proverbial wheel¬
barrow. His daughter saw that lie
was not to be gainsaid, and therefore
wore her diamonds for the first, time to
gratify his wishes.
Unfortunately events turned out
precisely as slie had feared. Her
brother, who always insisted upon
being informed of her engagements,
sent in word while the ball was in
progress that he was awaiting her in
the public garden at the back, of the
house. The poor girl stole out to speak
to him, and found him, alas! more than
half intoxicated. He wanted money,
of course—his needs in this respect
being insatiable. Ellen’s truthful as¬
sertion that she was not at the mo
ment able to assist him, met with a
scornful incredulity, and the fatal
glitter of tlie diamonds attracted his
attention. He seized hold of one" of
the earrings, half in rude jest and
half in spite, and, before she could
prevent him, lie had dragged it roughly
from her ear. Having once got it
into his possession, he stubbornly re¬
fused to part with it, and the upshot
was that tlie unfortunate girl was
obliged to return to the house without
it, and to slip the remaining earring
in her pocket to avoid attracting at¬
tention to her loss.
Jlext, morning her father’s first
THE AUGUSTA, ELBERTON AIN I> CHICAGO RAILROAD.
question was about the earrings—
whether they had caused a sensation
and who had admired them. His
daughter answered these inquiries
with a sinking heart, not daring, for
the life of her, to reveal her misfor¬
tune, yet knowing full well that he
must find it out sooner or later. When
that time came there would be a
rdeadful scene, for her father would
never believe her if she were to pre¬
tend she had mislaid the earring, and
would, by dint of bullying or cross¬
questioning, get at the truth.
The storm burst even sooner than
she feared. Tlie old man seemed to
have received a hint from the discreet
chaperone, who bad probably noticed
without saying anything to the girl,
that she had not worn her earrings the
latter part of the evening. No doubt
her father, putting two and two to¬
gether, had arrived at a pretty true
conception of what, had happened ;I>ut
it wasnot liis nature fo be outspoken;
he preferred to attain his object by tor¬
tuous methods.
“ Bring down the earrings, Ellen,”
lie said, abruptly, after dinner. “ I want
to have a look at ’em.”
His keen old eyes were fixed upon
her, and the girl, to hide her confusion,
rose at once from her seat and hurried
from the room. After a long interval
she returned, looking painfully con¬
science-stricken and embarrassed.
“ The fact is, father,” she said, hur¬
riedly, “ I had to take one of the ear¬
rings to be mended to-day.”
Poor girl! It was a lie, of course,
and it made her flesh creep as she
uttered it. But sudden fear and per¬
plexity caused her to resort to subter¬
fuge.
“Mended, eh! What has gone
wrong?” demanded the old man, with
a sharp, suspicious glance.
“ One of the stones is loose.”
“ Ah! Then the other earring is no
good to you till you get the pair?” said
old Sam, whose expression plainly
showed that he did not believe a word
of the story. “I’ll take care of it for
you.”
When the girl placed [he case con¬
taining the remaining earring in his
hand the old man looked as though he
were almost disappointed. He^ked to
detect people in falsehoods and mean
ness, and lie had evidently suspected
that neither of the ornaments would
be forthcoming. He shut up the case
with a vicious snap, and tottered to
his feet by the aid of his stick.
“ When will the other one be home,
eh? Where have you taken it?” he
asked.
Ellen named a well-known jeweler,
from whom the earring had been pur¬
chased, and desperately fixed a week
as the time required for repairing the
defect. The next moment she wished
s * ie h ad sa i d a month or a year, though
’ 80 doing she would have betrayed
Herself on the spot. Old Sam shuffled
library at the. end of the
P assa S e > and locked the case containing
''h 0 earr ing in an old bureau, where
he kept his secret papers,
The next few days were a period of
torture to the poor girl, not only be¬
cause each passing minute brought her
nearer. to the dreaded scene, hut be
cause her father, as though divining
and enjoying her distress, was con¬
stantly alluding to the missing earring.
He inquired when it would bo ready a
dozen times, and frequently threatened
to call upon the jeweler and fetch the
ornament himself. Meanwhile Ellen
Prothero was making desperate efforts
toJrecoVer the earring from her brother,
but without success, for the truth was
that the young blackguard had sold it
outright for a trifling sum.
At length the week expired, and on
the morning of the eighth day the
first thing the old man said when he
came down to. breakfast was:
“ Ellen, you must call for that ear¬
ring to-day.”
“Yes, father,” she said, speaking
with an air of desperation.
The old man chuckled, and ate his
breakfast with unusual zest. He more
than suspected be was being deceived,
but his daughter’s disobedience and
tlie loss of the diamonds were nothing
to’ him as compared with tlie satisfac¬
tion of making her utterly wretched.
When the poor girl started on her er¬
rand old Sam took a seat by the win¬
dow, and watched eagerly for her re¬
turn. No sooner did the carriage
come in sight than he hobbled as tar
as the door to meet her.
“ Well ?” be exclaimed, with a cun¬
ning look.
“ Here it is, father,” said the girl
bringing out a small packet from her
muff.
Old Sam took the package in silent
amazement. Even now he did not be¬
lieve that he held the earring in his
hand, for his daughter’s crimson cheeks
and averted eyes at once attracted his at¬
tention. He was chiefly possessed by
astonishment at her audacity in carry¬
ing the deception so far. Doubtless
she was endeavoring to palm off upon
LINCOLNTON. GrA., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1882.
him some clumsy imitation or substi¬
tute in paste. Old Sam chuckled as,
he thought of the utter futility of such
an attempt.
But when he opened the packet his
astonishment was greater still, for
there lay the earring beyond all man¬
ner of doubt! Old Sam knew some
about diamonds, and was con¬
noisseur enough to recognize at a
glance that the stones in the earring
were the identical ones which he had
given his daughter. A careful scrutiny
confirmed his first impression, and for
once in his life the old man felt a trifle
disconcerted and ashamed of himself.
He concealed this passing remorse,
however, by assuming an injured and
aggrieved tone as he said:
“ Much thanks I get for giving you
a handsome present. I shall take the
earrings back agen and lock ’em up till
you’re old enough to take proper care
of ’em. I don’t believe your story
about a stone being loose. I expect
you broke the earring through care¬
lessness. One.would think diamonds
were as cheap as pebbles.”
With this parting shaSt, delivered
out of sheer wantonness and vexation,
the old man beat a hasty retreat and
shuffled to the library. He was thor¬
oughly out of temper, not only from
disappointment at having been de¬
prived of a legitimate occasion for
venting his ill-humor, but because he
had a strong suspicion that, somehow
or other, his daughter had stolen a
inarch upon him. However, as he now
had both the earrings in his possession,
there must needs be an end of the
matter.
Old Sam seated himself in front oi
the bureau where he kept his will and
other treasures, and fumbled at the
lock with his gouty old fingers. Hav¬
ing opened it with considerable diffi¬
culty, he turned to the draw wherein
he had placed the other earring in its
case, but, to his surprise, the case had
disappeared. There were other things
in the same drawer, including various
antiquated articles of jewelry and a
few gold and silver coins, and for some
minutes the old man did not realize
that the earring was missing. The
truth dawned upon him by slow de¬
grees, and increased Tils irritation.
“ Dear me, now ! 1 thought I put it
here. It is singular that I never • can
find anything when I want it,” he
muttered, as lie groped about.
It was the fact that of late years the
old man had acquired a singular knack
of mislaying things. His memory -was
beginning to fail him, and many in¬
stances had occurred of this awkward
infirmity. To put something carefully
away, and to find it months afterward
in an unexpected nook or corner, when
he had forgotten all about it, had be¬
come quite a common occurrence with
the old man, who, however, flattered
himself that no one but himself was
aware of his weakness. The conse¬
quence was, that on the present ocear
sion liq did not trouble to make a pro¬
longed search, feeling satisfied that the
earring would turn up again unexpect¬
edly some day or other. He contented
himself with carefully putting away
the one his daughter had just given
him, and locking up the bureau again,
muttering, as he rose from his chair:
‘‘ It is lucky I told Ellen I would
take the earrings away from her. If
she wants ’em back she can’t have ’em,
that’s all—at least not till I come across
the one I’ve mislaid.”
The cunning old man was so pleased
at being able to conceal from his
daughter this conspicuous instance
of senile weakness that he almost for¬
got his recent disappointment, and he
returned to the morning-room in a
better humor. His entrance inter¬
rupted a conversation between Miss
Prothero and the butler, and had old
Sam been quicker at' hearing he would
have caught the closing remark of his
daughter, which was follows:
“ You were quite right to speak to
me about it, Newton. If it had been
one of tlie maids she would have had
no business in your master’s study last
night, as you say, especially after every
one else was in bed; but the truth is
that it was I whom you caught sight
of on the stairs. I—I—came down to
the study to fetch something. But
you need not mention this to your
master. I would rather he knew noth¬
ing about it .”—London Truth.
“ Pray,” said Mr.-to a gentle¬
man lie overtook on the road, “ will
you have the complaisance to take my
great coat in your carriage to town ?’•
“With great pleasure, my dear sir;
but how will you get it again ?” « Oh!
very easily,” replied the modest appli¬
cant, “ I shall stay in it.”
Hale county, Ala,, is looking out for
her moss industry, and is gathering
thousands of tons.
Many a man is not satisfied to live
on the face of the earth. He tries to
live on his own face.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
F«fgiV€BP!W.
It is quite easy to talk-sentimentally
♦bout the beauty of a forgiving spirit,
kut who find themselves able so to for
give one who wrongs them as to do i
him a favor? An English bishop gave
a fine example of tins Christian virtue
when one of his clergy who had abused
him through the newspapers solicited
a favor. The bishop promptly granted
his request. jHis astonished reviler re
plied: “ My Lord, I must say I very ‘
much regret the part I have taken
against you. I beg your forgiveness. „
The bishop promptly forgave his
mer enemy, who then asked: “ But how
was it you did not turn your back
upon me? I quite expected it.” “Why,”
nobly rejoined the bishop, “ you forget
that I profess myself a Christian.” Has
the reader an enemy ? Let him also
try to melt his enemy in the furnace
of kindness.— Zion’s Herald.
Religious Newg and Notes.
reSr^ 0 h3S ^ miQiSterS ^
There are thirtydwo Episcopal news¬
papers in the United States.
l^he Hon. Jacob Sleeper has been
sup .‘rintendent of a Methodist Episco¬
pal Sunday-school in Boston for fifty
two consecutive years.
Many people regard religion very
much as they regard smallpox. They
desire to have it as light as possible,
and are very careful that it does not
mark them.
The converts to Christianity from
among the Dakota Indians are gath¬
ered into eleven Presbyterian churches,
which together form a presbytery. Sev¬
eral of the pastors are full-blooded In¬
dians.
A large number of the Japanese stu¬
dents sent to America returned to their
native country Christians, while not
one such case has occurred among
those sent to Germany, France and
England.
The Episcopal Clergyman’s Insu¬
rance league in the last thirteen years
has paid $316,000 to the widows and
orphans of deceased clergymen, and of
this sum $15,552 was paid during the
past year. *>*
During the visit to England of Cet
awayo, the captive king of the Zulus, a
former missionary in Zululand pre
sented him with a handsome Bible
printed in the Zulu language. He was
much gratified at the gift.
An English journal says that “Mr.
Moody’s evangelistic campaign will
not be forgotten while Scotland
stands.” It regards his work in that
country as one of the greatest events
•in the history of Christianity,
During the past two years sixty-five
ministers of other denominations have
been ordained deacons or advanced to
the priesthood in the Protestant Epis¬
copal church. Of these 13 were Con
gregationalists, 11 Presbyterians, 1 a
Lutheran, 2 Second Adventists, 17
Methodists, 12 Baptists, 3 Universal
ists, 1 a Unitarian, 1 a Reformed Epis¬
copalian, I a Moravian and 1 a llebrew
Rabbi.
A Living Death.
A recent sensation in Paris was the
case of Jean Mistral,who has been forty
two years in the private lunatic asy¬
lum of St. Remy, in Provence. He
was, it is now admitted all round, of
sound mind when his father, on a doc¬
tor’s certificate and in virtue of the
law of 1828, locked him up there. His
reason for incarcerating his son was to
prevent him remarrying a Polish lady
whom, in good faith, he had married
abroad. The marriage ceremony on
the petition! of the elder Mistral had
been set aside by a French tribunal
cause there had been insufficient pub
lication and other formalities pre
scribed by the code had not been ob
served. Old Mistral was a very weal
thy manufacturer of jet beads. He
wanted his only son to heap fortune
upon fortune in marrying the heiress
of a'Marseilles ship owner. The Polish
ladj™was very, beautiful, of honorable
iife, but poor, find she bad been obliged
to turn an enthralling voice to meree
nary account by singing in theatres
and at concerts. Jean Mistral was
taking steps to marry her according to
French law, when his father one day
ran againt him in the high street of
Tarascon, in the year 1840, and cried
out to a couple of policemen who were
with him to arrest tlie madman.
The son made a desperate fight to r
his liberty, and soldiers were called in.
He was subjugated and manacled and
sent off to an asylum near Montpelier
where he still is. The fact that he re¬
sisted ta force publique was taken as
confirmation of the doctor’s lettre de
cachet, or certificate, and he .was
treated for raging lunacy. Old Mistral
died soon after. The fortune that lie
made in glass trinkets went equally to
the captive at Montpelier and to his
sister, Mine. Bernard. As it was a
great one, the Bernards kept the al-
leged madman in durance. His wife
(the Polish woman, who in daw was
110 wife ) die*'when he had been a
score of years locked up. Her daugh¬
ter, after an interval of six months,
followed her to the grave. Old Mis
tr * , . bad , caused the former to Be ex
^ eUed from France on the g round that
she was a bad character, was disturb
the P eace of a respectable and rich
and had no visible means of
exlstence - Technically she was a vaga
bwld ’ as she was redueed to S° from
one small , town to another to smg m
cafes. Soon after she was turned out
of . _ France she g ave birth to a daughter
in Switzerland. Mother and child died
in extreme poverty some years later.
The news of their death threw the
prisoner in the asylum into a state of
[ frenzy. The fortune inherited by Jean
Mistral from his father has gone on
accumulating at simple and compound
interest and has been carefully
nursed by the Bernards, who are bis
heirs apparent. M. Fournier, who has
beea exertin S himself to get the pris
oner released from the asylum, is his
first cousin. According to an article
in the civil code a rich madman or
mad woman is not to be confined in a
madhouse, but p’a ed under treatment
at home, and is to be provided with a
domestic establishment corresponding
with his or her yearly revenue. Mis¬
tral is an ordinary boarder at the asy¬
lum, where he has passed nearly half
a century, and is allowed one man ser¬
vant, whose business is not to minister
to his comfort, but to prevent his es
caping.
Engs.
When an American buyer arrives in
the heart of the rug-making country
in Asia he selects the best agent he
can find and gives him an order for
say, 100 rugs, of about the colors and
sizes of certain samples which he may
find in the bazaars. The Turkish
agent then employs natives of the
villages where the kind of rugs selected
are wanted, giving to each a hag of
gold and instructions to [order four
rugs. The subagent then goes among
the families and talks rugs with them
j
drinking many Cups of coffee and dis¬
cussing the price for days at a time.
WheD a bargain is concluded some
mon< T is furnished the family for wool
d J es and food, and the agent goes away
sure that in the course of a few months
the rug will be ready. Upon a carpet
measuring eight feet by twelve a whole
family will work for months. The
cotton or woolen threads which form
the groundwork or warp of the fabric
are stretched upon a huge frame the
width of the rug, and the family, or
such members of it as are able, sit on
the floor and tie knots in the warp
threads with the .colored wool tufts,
tightening the finished fabric now and
then with a rough comb.
Each worker takes about twenty
seven inches of the rug and works
along this strip. From two to four
inches a day is the speed at which the
rug advances if the.family is large
enough for the whole width of the
rug to advance at the same time. A
rug eight or nine feet wide requires
four persons, who work side by side.
The finishing of the rug, smoothing,
clipping, etc., is a work requiring skill
and judgment. The wages are very
small and the payment is according to
the number of square feet. The work¬
ers know certain patterns by heart and
dye their own wools. The old dyes
have in some instances been sup¬
planted by aniline colors, which do not
keep their tones, and fade without giv¬
ing to the rug the softness of tint which
is the chief glory of a fine Eastern
mg. So many merchants have refused
to buy the carpets in which aniline
dyes have been used that the use of
them may eventually be stopped,
The rug-makers as a class are poor
in money, very ignorant and very reu
ligious, but live comfortably. Espe
eially around the borders of theJCaspian
sea > in the country watered by the riv
ers from the Caucasian mountains, are
the people in comfortable eircum
stances, although about three centuries
behind the rest of the world, The
ni S s and carpets are brought in from
Tersia and the neighboring districts on
camels’ backs, the arrival of camel
trains being,one of the curious sights
of the town.
Value of an Express Train.
Few persons are aware of the value
of an express train. The Indianapolis
Journal says that what is known as
the Royal Limited express over the
Pennsylvania road, as ordinarily made
up, represents over $120,000, as fol
lows: Engine, $12,000; baggage car
$1,200; smoking $12,000; car, $5,000; dining* Pull"
room car, five elegant
man cars, $18,000 each, $90,000. The
ordinary express trains represent from | '
$88,000 to $85,000.
Stalks of wheat six feet liio-h with
heads six inches long, are the wide 1 ° of r
California.
LADIES’ DEPARTMENT.
!
A Hungarian Beauty*
The prize-offered for the most beau- :
tiful woman at the peopl6’s festival in
BudaPesth, Hungry, created a nation¬
al sensation and attracted an immense
multitude to witness the competition.
Over 150 women presented themselves
before the bench" of judges. They were
inspected one at a time, and each can
didate, as soon as judged, was passed
on to a waiting-room. When the
whole number had been reviewed they
were again taken before the judges
singly, and finally all were placed to-1
gether in a line.' After critical inspec
tion the ten most beautiful ones were
selected and the rest dismissed, and
then; from this number the two love¬
liest of all were chosen for the first
and second prizes. But this was a work
of difficulty, and was not settled to the
satisfaction of all. The victor in the
tournament was Mi«« r -'rr liaSzekelv,
a maic *-n of sixteen, the da>\ghter oi
an official in the imperial household.
Her claims to beauty rest upon a
charming transparent complexion,
melting brown eyes, a small mouth,
rich dark-brown hair and a form of
youthful grace; but her features are
not wholly regular, and the mouth and
head are not perfect in shape. Her
photograph, taken in a dress that is
being made for her by the first dress¬
maker of Hungary, is to be sent to ail the
illustrated journals of Europe for pub¬
lication. This competition is said to
have shown the Hungarians that they
can boast of every type of -female love¬
liness, and they are taking advantage
of the privilege.
^ Fr*Woii
Fans rival sunshades in size.
Moires retain their popularity.
The jacket is the rage this faR.
Velveteen is r tor skirts.
Soutache eiubH is the rage.
Chenille fringes' lie m uch worn.,
Braided costumes filtich worn
Feather trimmings^fifesmn Jy in
rogue. '
Ficelle lace has been intrude.' -d intr.
bn S erie .
Pelerines and shoulder caps remain
in vogue.
There is a revival of plain s
costumes.
Pokes will be more in vogue this fall
than ever.
Jackets and pelisses are the leading
fall wraps.
• Red'prevails in watering-place toilets
HI for the fall. I
Bonnets are worn tip tilted far ov«
the forehead.
Brick-red long-wristed kid gloves
are all the rage.
Sailor hats are the rage at English
watering-places.
Mauve and blue are combined in
children’s dresses.
White flannel, cashmere and veiling
are the favorite materials for lawn ten¬
nis costumes. 1
There is a tendency to increase the
size of the sleeve above the elbow and
in the armhole.
Chenille, satin cord and braids of va¬ ;
rious widths all play their part in new
dress trimmings. j
Entire tabliers of netted chenille ap- 1
pear on imported dresses and. among
trimming goods.
t eh et flow ers on woolen grounds
in strong contrasting colors appear
among fall goods,
A Short Guide to Bankruptcy.
™.. „ rf the
who waited on the Emperor Frantz
•Josef at the Hofburg, a few weeks ago,
was staying at Vienna, the owner of
the hotel in which he lodged became a
bankrupt. , , Hearing TI of his : hosts , ,,
mis-.
hap the worthy Beg sought an explana
tion of the word •‘bankruptcy,”and,
having thoroughly mastered its mean¬
ing, proceeded, on his return to his na¬
tive village, to impart his information
to sundry of the faithful, his near rela¬
tives and close family connections.
“ This, Oh my brothers,” he observed,
“is the true and proper way to become
a shop. bankrupt. Then First you must hire a J j
you must write to rich
merchants in far distant cities, invit- i j
ing them to forward their wares I !
to you for sale, and pledge yourself to
pay them within a few months. As
soon as you have received sufficient j
merchandise you must sell it for cash
or Hide it carefully away. Then you
must go to tlie judge and say to him:
‘Beloved of Allah! I am a bank
ru Pb Here are £5. They are all 1
bave in the world.’ The judge will :
!; oep £4 of the £5, and proclaim you in
bankruptcy; the other £1 will be di
villed among those who supplied you i
goods. Later on you will remove
fc0 another town > and begin this good
and easy business over again. Thus
may tlie passing bitterness of insolv¬
ency be converted into tlie abiding
swee f ness of a comfortable independ
Be £ he8 “ ! U P™ W bead be
it .’’-London r Telegraph. , |
Y L BUSHERS
NO. 2.
The Pilot.
From Jersey to Manhattan shore.
Across the Hndson’3 pnlsipg tide,
The pilot, skilled in nantic lore,
Revolves his wheel from side to side.
In silent ways he wins his bays.
His mold is strong, hi3 face is dun,
Bronzed by the kissing, amorous rays
Blown from the nostrils of the son
when Night’s brown hand uncoils ber.hair,
And spreads it o’er the water* blue,
The pilot’s eye she firea with care,
And binds his breast to duty true.
The lazy fog is dimly starred
With balls of red and blue and gre *n.
screaming whistles startling guard
A pa ? 3age felt * bat aU
All groping through the masking mist,
The* steamboats near, like pressing sin.
And cling to souls that would exist,
One day, one hour of life to win.
The life that fills the pilot’s hand
Responds to hearts with bated breath,
While faith ascends to his command.
And doffs its phantom raiment, death,
—Hugh Fa r rrfi r AfeDerraotf.
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS,
One of the most aggravating <pf
bores is a spiral stud on a close-fitting
shirt bosom. ■
Man proposes and woman diagnose
More particularly so if it’s aplate
vanilla cream.
Tears are meregc,*
eyes. Onions, wfa«*
species of leek. -— A
“ This is an early fl
said when he drdj
o’clock banana peek g
The artist wh~ mmm.
picture of
to draw a lomr'ftfoig.
A;
mad andflfd wcSj
his girl
snit. Such*
serve a hash _
Economy is cotH r
thing, but it. gas AV it
a
making corned beef and.
steak bgge taste and mushroom^., qffitejjo good* WjSi
?
- “Do von own this in
inquired a farmer of Mm
hanging over the at
. own it," M I
ut I’ve ..at a !“au on it.”' ^
“ I like yoiir new haiverynO^.” lit
said; ’ its Vine,’ then’s a sort til
‘ abandon’—” “ There ~ fetft any
sort of a band on it,” she said, pout¬ y -
ing, " it’s-a real ostrich feather ”
.
Says Josh Billings: When a man
kums to me for advice, I find out what
kind of adviee lie wants, and I give it
. to Wm . „,**** Mm that he and '
I are t wo az ■ smart men xt there is
livinsr.
Ah Yff Sing, the secretary of the
Chinese legation, has thirteen sons aati
eleven servants. If he werean Ameri¬
can with so many children and ser¬
vants he would at once change his
name to Ah Yu Sigh.
The retort courteous: He (after
proposing and being rejected)—“I
suppose in the end you will be marry
ing some fool of a fellow—” She
(breaking in)—“Excuse me, if I
meant to do that I should have ac
cepted. your offer.” [Silence].
A fasliion item says the belle of the
period now wears at her waist-belt a
little music-box, faintly playing a
single tune. We suppose this is to
enable the gentleman to explain to
anvbodv who comes along unexpect¬
edly that he was winding the box.
HONEY AND MONET. _
1 ' £or good or m ’
, rsrrs S3 « ■
For sober skies or * .any.
And ye; I r-' =. 1 falter still,
Foc one doubt, one fear doth thril
My dai-lnv, my - mg,
My darling huyo you money?
Mydari - ,.:.rimg,
My <3 mgh a yon money?
Hove . oh. love. X ieve you, love,
Bo. you must have money—
A reu rose is ■ rose, my. love,
But if it lu>id not honey,
The busy bee, he will not stay,
But humming airs he hies away,
My darling, my darling,
My darling have you money?
—Joaquin Miller.
An In-Grown Nail.
Much suffering is due to the corners
of toe-nails growing into the flesh.
Th * remedy is very sim P le ’ U is a
mistake to cut the nails short at the
COTners 5 «the nail is long, cut
«ie upper edge straight across, or in a
crescent shape, the crescent in the
center, leaving the corners untouched.
Then scrape the middle of the nail for
its whole length quite thin. The
scraping may be done with a knife, but
much more readily by tlie use of a bit
of freshly broken window-glass. The
center of the nail should be made so
thin that a slight pressure upon tlio
corners will bend it. In some eases it
may be well to put a little lint or cot¬
ton under the corners of the nail, t«
aid in the bending. Of course the
avoidance of tight boots or shoes, will
suggest itself to tiLj-Amertem Aprf*
-ulturist. m