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rpTTTTl 1 lllJJ t INCOLNTON NEWS
J. D. COLLEY & CO.,
YOL. I.
MACHINERY DEPOT.
W. J. POLLARD,
MANUFACTURER and MANUFACTURERS’ AGENT.
manufacturer of
W. J. Pollard’s Champion Cotton Gin
Feeders & Condensers^ Sul's Hand Power Cotton &!Hay Press.
General agent for Grain Threshers and Separators Talbot and & Agricultural Sons’ Agricultural, Imple¬
ments, Fairbanks & Co.’s Standard Scales, etc.
Portable and Stationary and Steam Engines and Boilers, Saw Mills, Grist
Mills, etc. C. Watertown <fc G. Cooper Agricultural, & Co.’s Traction Portable Engines, and Stationary Portable and Steam Agricul¬ En¬
tural Engines,
gines, Saw Mills, etc. Goodall & Waters’ Wood Working Machinery. W. L.
Bradley’s Standard Fertilizers. The Dean Steam Pump. Kreible’s Vibrating
Cylinder Steam Engines. Otto’s Silent Gas Engines. Acme Pulverizing Har¬
row, Clod Crusher and Leveler.
MACHINERY OF ALL KINDS a
specialty. Tools of all kinds, Hancock Inspirators, and will etc. Finally, I desire to
make the machine business a complete success, and guarantee to furnish
everything wanted in that line on ps reasonable terms at as short notice
as any house in the country. My stock is the largest iargest and most varied of any
house South. My connection with some of the manufactories in tho
United States gives me superior advantages Be for call furnishing the best and most
reliable work found anywhere. certain to on
■W. JIPOIjXjAJR jd 7
731, 734 & 736 Reynolds Street.,
AUGUSTA, ■ m GEORGIA.
WIMHFIll BABE1US
JN
FURNITURE.
If W8 don’t Boat New York Prices we will
Give You a NICE SET.
The Largest and Finest Stock ever offered
in Augusta. Five carloads just received.
All the Latest Styles and Prices Cheaper
than Ever. WE DEFY COMPETITION
Our New Catalogue will be Ready in loi
Days. Write for one.
J. L. BOWLES & CO.,
in AND 839 BROAD STREET,
AUGUSTA, CA.
JAMES HINES,
SUCCTDoOK TO
P. H. PlDTIDTiJ,
AVafjliington - - Ga • t
—DEAEl. ‘ IN—
GmeriC ail Matin Snpulies.
Bagging and Ties, Meat and
Lard, Flour of the Best Grade,
ron, Plows, &c., Salt, Leather,
&c., Provisions of all Sorts.
The Reputation of the Honne shall be
Maintained. “ The Best Goods at the Lowest
Living Rates.”
At Mrs. FI. Brum Clark’s
I adie, will find New and Stylish Neck¬
wear. Look at the Febne Laces. They
must be seen to be appreciated.
The Latest Stylo3 in Hals and Bonneis re¬
ceived weekly during tho season.
Our Mourning Bonne's and Crepe Veila
keep are unsurpassed best English in quality and price. Wo
New Ribbons—every Crepes, width, now Lissa Ruching,
ily. color and qual
Black Silk Glazes, Monrning wear; Chil¬
dren’s Hosiery in excellent quality—some
New Styles; Corsets, Hoop Skirts, Tour
mures, Bridal Veiling and Gloves; all kinds
of kinds. Veiling, Brussel’s Nets; Nets of all
Great variety of Laces— Black, White and
Cream. Embroidery Silk, best Knitting
New Silk, Jewelry, Sewing Silk, Buttons in latest styles,
Lusterless Jet Bracelets, Ear¬
rings, other Pins, Ac., Coin Silver Jewelry and
Work, slyles Lace entirely Pillow new; Material for Fancy
New Hair Goads—pretty Shams, Splashers. Ac.
and beaoming
styles.
ter” “Polo”Caps, Caps—in “Fez” Caps, “TamO’Shan
the new colors for Children.
Hand-Knitted Goods for Inf antic Infan's’
Caps in Lace, Velvet and Satin. Our Stock
cf We Fimay Goods is too varied ta itemize.
the Millinery are prepared to furnish anything in
promptly. Orders Line, from and the to fill ord Pi’B
tended to received. country We at¬
83 soon as never
Disappoint. Our friends in adjacent coun¬
ties will find it to their interest to send to us.
We will make any purchase, for them in the
city We free of commission.-
819 Broad guarantee Prions, and Quality.
Street is the place to obtain
Stylish Give Article.! for a Lady’s Toilet.
us a call.
THE AUGUSTA, ELBERTON AND CHICAGO RAILROAD.
samusl h. wirsns.
SUCCESSOR T
MYERS & MARCUS J
838 & 840 Broad Street,
AUGUSTA, GA.
WHOLESALE JOBBER OF DRY GOODS, NC.
TI0NS. SHOES. HATS AND CLOTHING.
J. ■. ANDERSON,
COTTON FACTOR
—AND—
Commission Morchant,
—AT THE—
O d Stand of R. A. Fleming,
13 BeynoHs Street, Aijnsta, 0a
Persons! attention given to all business
T. Lon e Fuller, so well known in Lincoln
and who for many years has been with
Yeung & Hack, is in charge, and will be glad
vo see his many friends. __._
_
Burphey, Harmon & Co.,
NCOEXTO>V OA„
TOMBSTONES, MONUMENTS
PUT UP TO LAST.
Work Guaranteed,
Refer to their work throughout Lincoln
county.
Prices "Very Low.
P. HANSBERGER,
-MANUFACTURER OF
CIGARS,
-AND DEALER IN—
Tobacco, Pipes and
Smokers’ Articles.
Cigarettes to the trade a specialty. Mann,
factory on Ellis street. Fireworks by whole,
sals.
70t> Broad street, AUGUSTA, GA.
W. N. MERCIER,
COTTON FACTOR AND
General emission Merchant,
No. 3 Warren Block,
Augusta, Ga.
Will give personal and undivided Cotton atten¬
tion to the Weighing and Selling of
Liberal Cash Advances made on Consign
ments.
LINOOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1883.
At Last.
A little spot where shadows flit,
And grasses ever grow;
And ties however closely knit, m
Fade like the last year’s snow.
But sound and sweet my sleep shall bo
Under the springing green,
Unsealed for me the mystery
That broods o’er the unseen.
When I shall know the morning clear
Ol joya so long denied.
No more regret, nor doubt, nor fear,
I shall be satisfied.
—Elizabeth A. Davit.
The Scar on the Forehead,
Midnight had tolled its solemn chime,
yet still the weary watcher sat beside
the hearthstone, plying her busy nee¬
dle. Her eyes were dim and sunken,
her cheeks thin and pale, her lips
pinched and purple, and her slender
fingers so shrivelled with the icy chill
that was fast palsying her, that the
plain gold ring on her wedding finger
and the thimble that she held were
every now and then dropping into her
lap. Her delicate form was shivering
even under the heavy shawl that she
had thrown about her shoulders, and
she looked often with a wistful glance
at the little basket of fuel that stood
below the fire-place.
Another hour passed, and the clock
struck one.
“He must soon be here now,” whis¬
pered she, in a half-frightened tone.
“I will lay aside my work and make
things as cheerful as I can.”
So she brushed the ashes from the
hearth, drew the coals together, threw
on them a handful of the carefully
saved fuel, and fanned the faint flame
till it flashed high in the chimney
Then she looked about the room to see
if aught could be mended; but the few
articles it held were all in their w’onted
place, and everything as neat as the
hands of love could make it. An arm¬
chair w r as drawn from a corner close
to the cracking fire, the dressing-gown
that himg upon it spread out anew r ,
and a pair or slippers were upon the
fender. The lamp was trimmed afresh
the table dusted, and a carefully cov¬
ered dish set upon it, and beside it w as
placed a knife almost as bright as
though the blade had been silver in¬
stead of steel.
el have done the best I can,” said
the pale watcher, as again she sank
into her chair. “O, if I w r ere only
sure of one kind word,” she continued.
•‘Hark!” She started up and listened.
“It is he—and how he bangs the gate!
I shall have a fearful time with him.’’
She hastened to the front door and
gently opened it. ‘
A man staggered in, and reeling
this way and that, reached finally the
room his gentle -wife had made so
bright and cheerful. But what was
her reward? A volley of oaths so foul
that it seemed as if an army of fiends
had spoken with one voice. He cursed
the niggardly fire, though to make
that she and her children had been
half frozen all day; he,swore at the
patched dressing-gown, though out of
her thin wardrobe she had planned it;
he raved at the bread and meat, though
her own lean fingers had earned them
both. And when, angel-like and wo*
man-like, too, she gave him a smile for
every frown, an endearing epithet for
every oath, and would have wound
her arms about him to win him back
to reason and himself, he raised his
heavy hand and dealt her a powerful
blow; aye, he struck her till every
nerve quivered with anguish, and
she his wife, and the mother of
his beauteous children! And now,
when she lay prostrate before him, he
raised himself to kick her thence. A
slight young hand pushed off the
booted foot, even as it was falling on
the trembling woman, and a voice,
agonized in its tones, exclaimed:
“Forbear, my father—for though
your wife, she is yet my mother, and
I will save her from your rage!”
The eyes of the drunkard quailed a
moment before the upturned gaze of
his first-born, so mournfully holy was
the look that beamed from his tearful
face; then a fiendish glare burned in
his own, and exclaiming:
“You, too!—must I level my whole
household ere I can find peace?” he
seized the glistening knife and struck
his child.
* * * * *
“Will ho live?” moaned the poor
mother to the surgeon, when he had
bandaged the boy’s head. “He is very
pale and weak.”
“It is a ghastly and dangerous
wound,” said the surgeon; “only an
eigth of an inch deeper and it would
have been fatal—yet with care he may
survive.”
* * * * *
“Mother,”—theie was a pathos in
the tone that drew her eyes earnestly
to the speaker, a stripling of but sev¬
enteen years—“mother, I am
away.”
“Away! end where, Ernest?” she in¬
quired.
“I cannot say,” he replied, “God
must direct my steps—but go from
here I must. The curse of the drunk¬
ard’s son is on me. Ncne will regard
me—none even give me work. And
more, mother, if I stay here I must
forget my Bible, for how can I honor
my father when he so dishonors him¬
self?”
Very long did the boy talk and
plead ere he won the tearful consent;
but she gave it at length, and with a
little knapsack on his back, his moth¬
er’s Bible in one pocket and her slen.
der purse in the other, Ernest went
forth in the great world to seek, not
so much fortune or fame, as that peace
and joy which a drunken father would
not give him in his home.
Years passed away, and there came
no tiding.s from Ernest, save that af¬
ter the first one, each quarter brought
the mother a remittance, and each
successive quarter one of a higher fig¬
ure. Welcome, too, were they all; for,
but for such generous aid, the work
house had claimed her and her chil¬
dren; for downward, still downward,
went her husband, his absence no
longer counted by hours, but weeks
and months.
In a bustling city, many miles from
his native town, a stranger one night
found him in a gutter, half frozen,
starved, weary and sick. Like a good
Samaritan, he picked him up, and as
he was too weak to walk, placed him
in a conveyance and had him taken to
his own home. A warm bath, clean
garments, wholesome food and a soft
bed were freely offered him, and pas¬
sive as a child when worn and languid,
he suffered them to deal with him as
they choose, and soon sank into a deep,
refreshing slumber.
It was hours ere he awoke, and then
he seemed as in a dream. The filthy
gutter in which he had lost his con¬
sciousness was now exchanged for a
downy bed, with pillows soft and white
as snow, with snow-white counter¬
pane and damask hangings. His rags
had disappeared, and in their stead he
saw himself robed in fine linen. The
dirt was washed from his face and
hands, his hair was combed, and his
tangled beard neatly shorn. He put
back the curtains. Glad, golden sun¬
beams were stealing through the crim¬
son drapery of an alcoved window,
and their brilliant light showed him a
lofty chamber, with frescoed walls, a
carpet from oriental loom, and furni.
ture that a prince might covet. “It is
a dream,” breathed he, and he closed
his eyes. Light footsteps aroused him
soon, and unclosing them again he
saw bending over him a noble looking
man in life’s early prime, and, beside
him, a lovely woman, and in the eyes
of both large tears were standing.
“Tell me,” said he, eagerly, “Do I
dream, or am I the poor drunkard so
greatly cared for ?”
“You were sick and we ministered
to you,” replied the lady.
“Sick! ay, sin sick,” he said. “But
you do not know how vile I am, or you
would cast me out at once. Listen. 1
have broken the heart of my wife. I
have driven my only son from home;
ay, and half killed him first; and I
have ill-treated my other children till
they fear me more than the evil one
Will you care for me now ?”
He almost shrieked out the question,
and it seemed as thougli life and death
hung on the answer.
We must forgive even as we would
be forgiven,” said the master of the
house. “While you can be happy, stay
with us.”
A week passed away, and still the
old man tarried in that beautiful home
now toying gently with the little Lily,
the wee, delicate babe, and then play¬
ing gay pranks with Harry, the pride
of the household, a boy of four sum¬
mers; now dreaming in the pleasant
chamber where he first awoke again to
manhood, .and then lolling in an arm¬
chair in the parlor, tears and smiles
chasing each other over his wrinkled
cheeks as the lovely lady of the man¬
sion sang, now a gay ditty and then a
solemn hymn. But he never offered
to cross the threshold.
“I dare not,” he w’ould say, when
asked to ride or walk; “there is danger
in the street, and this calm is so very
sweet. If it could only last ?” And
then he would sigh, and sometimes
weep and. sob like a child.
* * * * *
“There is to be a grand rally of the
friends of temperance to-night—the
new and splendid hall is to be inaugu¬
rated. Banners will wave, music
ring, and ladies smile! Shall I invite
you, my wife, to accompany me?” said
the master of the house.
“Of course, after such a programme,”
said she, gayly, “and you may depend
upon my going, too. How soon must
I be ready ?”
“In an hour’s time,” he replied. “I
will send a carriage for you, and meet
you myself at the door of the hall.
Be sure that you are ready, for therj
will be a tremendous crowd.”
“I will be in time—trust me foi
that,” said she, and hastened to perform
her evening duties to the little ones;
but what was her astonishment when
she returned to the parlor, all boneted
and cloaked, to find their stranger
guest awaiting her.
“I cannot surely be tempted there,”
said he, in a low, sad voice; “but if
you will suffer me to ride with you I
will gladly go. It may be that I shall
complete there the salvation here com¬
menced.”
Gladly did the lady acquiesce in the
request, and they were soon at the
door of the thronged hall. Not her
husband, but an intimate friend of his
joined them there, and led them to
some reserved seats near to the plat¬
form.
There had been stirring music by the
band, fervent prayers by the clergy,
and thrilling speeches from orators
from different parts of the country,
and the hearts of that vast multitude
were aroused as they had never been
before to the dangers of the cup.
Then, while yet they were all riveted
to the subject, the president announced
“a voice from our home.’’ There was
a breathless silence for a moment, and
then long and loud acclamations
greeted the good Samaritan of our
sketch as he bowed to the waiting
throng. It had seemed to them, as the
last speaker hushed his voice, that the
theme, world wide as it is, was quite
exhausted; but so impassioned was
the eloquence that now mastered it,
that they hung upon every word as if
he had spoken something fresh from
heaven. Where others had general¬
ized, he individualized. He did not
take the mass of drunkards, but only
one out of them all, and he portrayed
his course in such vivid colors that the
audience seemed gazing upon dissolv.
ing views rather than listening to
chosen words; and so wrought up
were they, that when he pictured that
horrible scene in the\ tragedy of drink,
where the" husband levels to the floor
the w’ife who once slept.so sweetly on
his bosom, the wife that is also the
mother of his children, they seemed to
hear the gentle and wronged one fali
f
and sobs and sighs broke forth from
the assembly. The speaker paused
till they were quiet, wiping, mean¬
while, the tears from his own cheeks.
“Do you ask,” said he,when he again
resumed his theme, “do you ask why
I stand here to-night and speak these
things? why I not only speak but feel
them! Look at this,” he said, lifting
the glossy locks from his left temple.
“Do you see that scar on my fore¬
head?"
In the brilliant gas-light it was per¬
fectly visible to many a watchful eye;
it was a ghastly, frightful-looking scar,
marring the beauty of a brow that
might otherwise have been a painter’s
model.
Slowly and solemnly did the speaker
utter each word, then as he stood push¬
ing back the raven hair, he continued;
“After the drunkard had felled his
wife to the floor, he would have kicked
her prostrate form, but that her young
son rushed between the two. What
did the drunkard do then?” he ex.
claimed in a voice of thunder. An¬
other pause and a breathless hush.
More slowly, more solemnly, did he
speak. “He seized a knife,” he con¬
tinued; “aye, and the one, too, his gen¬
tle wife had herself laid beside his
plate for him to carve the dish her
worn and weary fingers had earned to
sustain his life: he seized it and—did
this!” and he pointed to his forehead.
“To my grave shall 1 carry this scar,
and not until I rest in my grave shall
I cease to plead for the drunkard’s
wife and the drunkard’s children.
With these words fresh on his lips
he withdrew. There was no applaud¬
ing, but a silence as of death had rest*
ed in the vast hall. Ere it was broken
by prayer or hymn, an aged man, older
thougli it seemed with grief than
years, tottered upon the platform.
Trembling in every nerve and muscle,
he leaned against the desk, and finally
grasped it for support Many times
did his lips move ere he could utter an
audible sound, and when he did speak,
his words were rather felt than heard.
“The son has spoken,” said he, “now
let the father. With the scar on his
forehead yet bleeding, my Ernest, my
first-born, my noble boy, went from his
home to seek among strangers the
peace his father would not give him
on his own hearthstone. Ten years
from that time, one week ago to-night,
that son picked up his father from a
gutter, and instead of spurning him
as a fallen sinner, he took him to his
home as though he had been the angel
instead of the demon of his youth.
Deep is the scar on his forehead, but
deeper are the scars on my heart. Ye
have heard him—ye have seen me.
Let the story and the sight be your sal¬
vation, as it is even now my own.”
The old man was exhausted, and fell
back into his son’s arms.
PEARLS OF THOUGHT.
He that wrestles with us strengthens
our nerves and sharpens our skill.
The best education in the world is
that got by struggling to get a living.
To discuss an opinion with a fool is
like carrying a lantern before a blind
man. i
We pas3 often from love to ambition,
but we seldom turn from ambition to
love.
In the adversity of our best friends
we often find something that is not
displeasing to us.
Absence diminishes the ordinary
passions and increases the great ones
as the wind extinguishes the candle
and lights the fire.
Whatever you do, do it welL A job
slighted because it is apparently un¬
important, leads to habitual neglect, so
that men degenerate insensibly into
poor workmen.
There are persons who have more
intelligence than taste, and others who
have more taste than intelligence.
There is more vanity and caprice in
taste than in intelligence.
The rich depend on the poor, as well
as the poor on the rich. The world is
^
but a magnificent building; all the
stones gradually cement together. No
one subsists by himself alone.
Nature has presented us with a large
faculty of entertaining ourselves alone,
and often - calls us to it, to teach us
that we owe ourselves in part to
society, but chiefly and mostly to our.
selves.
In proportion as men are real coin,
and not counterfeit, they scorn to
enjoy credit for what they have not
.-Paint me,” said Cromwell “wrinkles
and all.” Even on canvass the great
hero despised falsehood.
Chinese Kindness.
Nowhere will you find less cruelty
than in Mongolia. Not only do their
cattle and flocks receive expressions of
sympathy in suffering, and such allevi¬
ation of pain as the owner knows how
to give, but even the meanest creatures
>
insects and reptiles included, are treat¬
ed with consideration. One of the
best proofs of the habitual kindness of
the Mongol is the tameness of the
birds upon the plateau. Crows perch
themselves upon the backs of loaded
camels and deliberately, steal China¬
men’s rusks and Mongol’s mutton be¬
fore the very eyes of their vociferating
owners; hawks swoop down in the
market place at Urga and. snatch eata¬
bles from the hands of the unwary
who accuse the , thief of
cide and pass on; and swallows, year
after year, build their nests and rear
their, young inside the very tents of the
Mongols. A Mongolian’s pity seems
to flow out freely towards the suffering
of all creatures, even the meanest and
most vexatious. My/bald-headed cam¬
el-driver was nearly driven to distrac¬
tion by a cloud of mosquitoes, which
kept hovering over and alighting on
hi9 shining pate. During the night
there came a touch of frost, and, when
we awoke in the morning not an insect
was on the wing. Looking at them as
they clung benumbed to the sides of
the tent he said, “The mosquitoes are
frozen!”and then added, in a tone of
sincere sympathy, the Mongol phrase
expressive of pity, “Hoarhe hoarhe!”
There was no sarcasm or hypocrisy
about it.— J. Gilmour.
Canned Vegetables
“Do you claim any superiority for
the canned over green vegetables?”
was asked of a manufacturer of canned
goods.
“Yes, in this way; We are now can¬
ning asparagus at the rate of 6000 cans
a day, and putting it up within three
hours after pulling it out of the ground.
It is gathered in the early morning
before sunrise, while the dew is still
upon it. The same remark applies to
tomatoes, of which we are putting up
42,000 cans daily at our factory at
Morristown, N. J., where a string of
wagons a mile long is waiting every,
morning to receive the cans, The
same holds good with peas, which are
also gathered before the sun’s heat can
get at them. If you buy similar vege¬
tables green at a retail store they are
usually from one to three days old.
They lose their freshness, whereas by
our process they will remain fresh and
sweet for three years.”
“But what about the chemical action
of the solder?”
“All our goods are now soldered on
the outside by a new patent process by
which it is impossible for the solder to
touch the contents. Here, for example,
is one of our new cans of the kind I
refer to. You can see for yourself that
it is as I say.”
“What is the secret of successful can¬
ning?”
“To destroy the germ of fermenta¬
tion—that is all there is in it, apart
from rigid cleanliness.”— N. Y. Jour
Ml.
PUBLISHER^.
NO. 47.
RUHOROUS:
An echo is a halloa mockery.
Government pastry—A mint spy.
A forbidding profession—The auc¬
tioneer’s. _
Pound marks are always found with
pugilists.
Dickens’ hero, Oliver Twist, was a
great lover of Irish poetry. He was
continually asking for More.
It may not be etiquette that compels
him to do so, but a man usually takes
his hat off in the presence of his bar¬
ber.
“The alphabet is the key which un¬
locks the storehouse of knowledge,"
says an exchange. But it is the whis¬
key that loosens the tongue.
An impecunious individual remarks
that life was the same to him at school
as it is now. He was strapped then,
and he has been strapped ever, since.
Judge Walsh, of Chicago, has de¬
cided that it is not cruelty to attach
damaged tinware to the tail of a dog
in order to make the animal beat 2.40.
This would seem to indicate tha.
Judge Walsh does not keep dogs and
his neighbors do.
LIGHTNING CHANGE ACT.
By fashion’s rale
Upon a mule
She sat one side the sad
Soon on a fence
Some distance thence
The mnle watched her astraddle.
“A distinguished meteorologist says
that it is the little end of a cyclone
that is destructive. Western people
should make a note of this, and when
in the hereafter they have occasion to
pick up a cyclone they should always
take it by the big end."
The addresses of a certain young
man having been declined by a young
lady he paid court to her sister. “How
much you resemble your sister,” said
he, on the evening of the first call.
“You have got the same hair, and the
same forehead, and the same eyes—”
“And the same noes,” she added quick¬
ly. He has stopped calling at that
house.
A self-acting sofa, just large enough
for two, has been invented. If prop¬
erly wound up it will begin to ring a
warning bell just before ten o’clock.
At one minute after ten it splits apart,
and while one half carries the daughter
of the house up stairs, the other half
kicks her young man out of doors
They will come high, but people must
have them.
Coming Leap-Year.
A correspondent writes to inquire if
1900 is a leap-year. In Catholic and
Protestant countries the year 1900 will
not be leap-year, they all having adopt¬
ed the Gregorian calendar. In countries
where the Greek church is established
(Russia and Greece), the old Julian
calender still holds, and those coun.
tries will count it a leap-year. After
February, 1900, therefore, the differ
enee between the two calenders, which
is now twelve days, will become thir¬
teen days, and will remain so until
2100, the year 2000 being a leap-year in
both the Julian and Gregorian calen'
dars. The rule for leap-year may b
thus stated, according to the Gregori¬
an calendar, which differs from the
Julian only in a special treatment of
century years: All years whose index
number( 1S83 is the index number of the
present year) is divisible by four are
leap-years; unless (l)their index num¬
ber is divisible by 100 (century years).
In that case they are not leap-years,
unless (2) their index number is divisi¬
ble by 400; in which case they are leap
years. Thus 1700, 1800,1900 and 2100
are not leap-years, while 1600, 2000
and 2400 are.— N. Y. Critic.
i
Plucking Ostrich Feathers.
Some little finesse is required, in
order that the bird selected for pluck¬
ing may be approached and blindfold¬
ed with as little risk as possible.
This is accomplished with the aid of
a Chinaman, who is used as a bait to
attract and concentrate the cussedness
of the fowl, opportunity being taken
while the brute is absorbed in his
attempt to lay out the heathen to slip
the .leg of a stocking over his head,
which being done he becomes practi¬
cally harmless, and the operation of
divesting him of his plumes can be
proceeded with with some degree of
safety. Occasionally, however, the
bird becomes restless under the opera*.
tion and struggles violently, when it
becomes necessary to remove the blind¬
fold, and skip as nimbly as may be
over the most adjacent portion of the
fence.
President's and Printer's Ink.
People who disbelieve in the value
of printer’s ink as an advertising
medium, should note how ready the
statesmen of the country are to use it
when these is a nomination to be made
for the presidency. Printer’s ink is
a good enough advertiser for the early
•presidential aspirant .—Milwaukee Sun,