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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
VO DUMB VII. NUMBER 31.
The London Timet is now known a*
the “Thunderbolt Forger."
The United States Supreme Court has
decided that beans arc not seeds.
A movement is on foot in Nicaruaga to
sever the relations between Church and
State.
Judge Brown in the United States
Court at Detroit has decided that the de¬
vice 1 ‘Patent Applied For” is no protec¬
tion to an inventor.
■ It will require
about 12,000 men to
man the new American Navy. It would
prove interesting to know how many of
the number will be native Americans.
■Vi
; The number of stars in the United
States flag for all branches of the service
is thirty-eight, and the number will not
be changed until the Fourth of July,
1890.
Ex-Mayor Weaver, of Pittsburg, Penn.’,
says there is no longer any land in that
city available for manufacturing sites.
The lowest price for land suitable for
such uses is at least $18,000 an acre, and
that is more than manufacturers care to
pay.
___________
Although the climate at the British set¬
tlement on the delta of the Niger is so
unhealthy that the average life of the
English residents is less than four years,
there are over a hundred applicants for
every position in that branch of the ser¬
vice.
k
The Chicago Herald has discovered
that in twelve cases out of twenty-two of
importance in the last three years, experts
in chirOgraphy have gone dead wrong in
their deductions. There are a hundred
men in every State who write precisely the
same hand.
A Bishop has been found who defends
boxing. The Bishop of Bedford, Eng¬
land, has just said: “I can see no possi¬
ble harm in boxing. It is a capital ex¬
ercise, and calculated to promote good
temper and self control. I do not know
why every man should not know how to |
defend himself.”
A French missionary gives a serious ac
count of the state of slavery in Ecuador,
Though it is not a legal institution, yet
the law permits the Indian to sell himself
as a slave when he is unable to pay his
debts, and once a slave he is rarely able to
free himself. He may be bequeathed by
will. The majority of the interior In
iians have been reduced to this condition.
The custom of the Digger Indians in
California has always been to cremate their
dead. The first funeral of an Indian by
burial from the neighborhood of Smarts
ville took place a day or two since. The
remains were interred in Nevada County.
They were of a girl who was one of the
fifth of six generations in which they were
living specimens up to two years ago.
1
■ Some of the most ignorant immigrants
who arrive at Castle Garden, New York t
,
city, look upon America as an Eldorado, !
and are somewhat surprised to find that \
they cannot pick up gold in the streets.
But that is almost the case now in Dul
luth, Minn., where a wonderful rich vein
of copper has been laid bare in the prin¬
cipal business thoroughfare, and within
two hundred feet of the City Hall. Ex
perts claim it to be as rich as the Calumet
and Hecla veins.
Observes the New York Telegram:
“By the by, there’s something very droll
about Gould making his private physician
—one Munn, or Bunn or something of
that sort—a director in Union Pacific
.The medical gentleman receives a salary
of $20,000 a year from Gould. Of
course the better part of this will go into
investments in the stock of which he is a
director, and equally, of course, the bet¬
ter of that $20,000 will eventually get
back into Gould’s pocket. That’s why
the whole thing strikes me as droll.”
The little country of Holland has fallen
bo far from the proud position it once
held among the nations of the earth, that
,we are accustomed to think of the sturdy
Dutch nation as a people of little conse¬
quence. Yet, notwithstanding the de¬
cline of her strength in Europe, Holland
is still one of the great colonial powers of
the world, ranking, it is said, only next
to Great Britain in that respect. Her
colonial possessions comprise some eight
hundred thousand square miles of fino
and fertile tropical territory. -«g'
V!
The people of Anderson, Ind., have
been , very successful . , m . ridding .... the. .. town ,
of tramps. Three years ago they formed
the plan of making any tramps caught in
■town run the gauntlet of citizens armed
with barrel-staves and poles, and then
.
leap into the . It is needless to
river. say
that all vagabonds gave the place a wide
berth. Lately the terror of the old
punishment had worn off, and last week
when eight tramps were found in the
depot they were made to run the
gauntlet. They were badly battered, and
the prestige of the Hoosier town as a
patent tramp bouncer ww mamt^d.
DEVOTED TO THE INTEREST OP LINCOLN COUNTY.
A SPRING GREETING.
What is this the bluebirds call,
Seeking mate and nesting-tree,
Flitting bright through forest hail,
“It* Merrily, cheerily?
is spring—be joyous all!”
This is what the bluebirds call.
What is this the robins sing,
Wooing from each leafing tree,
Making all the woodland ring,
Merrijy-eheerily?
“It is spring, gladsome spring!”
This is what the robins sing.
What is this our blithe hearts say,
As the wakened earth we see
Eroidering her robes so gay,
Merrily, cheerily?
“Spring has come in spring’s old way!”
This is what our blithe hearts say.
“Spring’s old way,” and spring’s old song,
Only sung in newer key;
Gladened lives to spring belong.
Merrily, cheerily.
Sing we then, sing loud and long:
“Welcome, spring, in spring’s old way!”
— Youth's Banner.
A HOSPITAL COVERLET,
Ward No. 9 was to any casual inspec¬
tion precisely like the other nineteen with
which it formed the General Hospital of
Jeffersonville, Indiana. It was clean,and
the long rows of cots on each side of the
wards were always in order. But what¬
ever the necessity for it, its uniformity
was a little trying, The meals were
served to the minute, and the food was
never known to vary in kind or quality.
This even extended to the sourness of the
bread, the hairs in the hash and flies in
the soup.
After a stay of six weeks, Fred. Ray¬
mond, of Company B,-th Minnesota,
began to find it a little monotonous. Not
meaning to be ungrateful for the uni¬
form kindness of his treatment here, he
began to long for a little more variety.
It seemed to him as though he had about
exhausted the simple pleasures that the
hospital had to offer. He had read several
of the memoirs- of great and good men
which formed the bulk of reading matter;
and these, too, he had found singularly
alike. Even the interest and pleasure to
be had from a perusal of Baxter’s “Saint’s
Rest” failed after a single reading.
Many of his comrades had a never
failing resource in writing letters to
friends, which was not open to Fred.
Raymond, for reasons that will presently
appear. After debating the matter in his
mind for a few days, he finally ventured
on a course which might greatly relieve
the tedium of his enforced leisure, which
was likely to last a few days longer. At
sometime during his stay there had- been
received from the North a considerable
things recived’werc a' ^ 1 ^ 1 “ oTsheehi
and coverlets for the beds. These, al¬
though generally plain, were not quite
uniform, and introduced the only bit of
novely to be seen anywhere in the hos¬
pital. It happened that the coverlet
which fell to Fred. Raymond had been
made by the young ladies of one of the
churches in B-, Ohio, and many of
them had written their names
and addresses on the blocks. He
had studied over these until he
not only knew them all by heart, but had
formed a pretty distinct conception of the
young ladies themselves. There was
more character and individuality in the
handwriting than one would have sup¬
posed, considering the difficulty of trac¬
ing letters on cloth. He was not the
least bit of a ladies’ man, or one who
would thinking of answering an adver
tisement for correspondence—“object,
fun and amusement.” But then, these
and addressee seemed to say to him
that he might write if he chose. One of
these names had struck him as very pret¬
ty, and the handwriting was indeed neat,
He had amused himself with picturing
the writer to himself many times, until
he felt partially acquainted. To her,
therefore, he would indite a very general
letter, and if she chose to reply and a cor¬
respondence grew out of it, it would give
new interest to the days that must yet be
passed before he could return to his regi¬
ment. His letter, addressed to Miss
Lillie Meline, was not an eloquent epistle;
it simply told the story of the writer’s
loneliness, the gratitude of himself and
comrades for the interest shown in the
comfort for the Union soldiers, and the
satisfaction it would give the inmates of
hospital if “any of the young ladies
should feel at liberty to relieve the dull¬
ness of their life by an occasional letter.”
It was not long before he received a re¬
ply in a handwriting which he promptly
identified. He was more excited when he
opened the envelope than he had been for
a long time, and far more than he had
supposed he could be over a letter from a
stranger. Like his own, it was a very
simple epistle. “The girls were de¬
lighted,” it said, “to know that their
work had done some good. The soldiers
deserved everything,” and soon, “and if
he caved to hear from her, why, she would
write, although she was only a school¬
girl.” And then, asking that he would
tell something about himself, she signed
her name, Lillie Meline. There was this
P. S.: “What is the name of your regi¬
ment?”
Surely this sort of correspondence was
sufficiently mild. Neither party to it had
the intention to begin anything like a
flirtation by mail. Indeed, Lillie had pur¬
posely conveyed the impression that she
was very young, so that there might be no
temptation on Fred’s part to change the
scope ^ of his letters. She was a school
eightesn years of age , home now for
her vacation. As she had meant, he got
the impression that was much younger, a
mere slip of a girl. That was just the
th “f He could write freely about him
self to amuse her, and her letters and her
sympathy would be none the less pleasant
because of her youth,
Now, I am bound to confess that the
correspondence which followed was not
it QVW) j haye beenj perhapS) much >
as
terested in the handwriting, the faded
letters, the dates, as in the little glimpses
of personal history and character which it
revealS * M doeS not ****
LINCOLNTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JUNE 7, IBS!!.
story to follow it. Rapidly it changed,
both as to form and substance. It came
to be “My Dear Miss Lillie” and “Dear
Mr. Raymond.” It was no longer general
and formal, but personal and sympathetic.
Had they fallen in love with each other?
That would have been very absurd in
bim, seeing that she was only a little girl,
as he supposed.
While neither had intended it, and as
yet were unaware of it, they had entered
upon a state when only a touch is needed
to change their warm personal interest
into the deepest and tenderest passion.
Thus a few weeks passed, and Raymond
was permitted to join his regiment.
But while he had only*sought to
lighten the weariness of hospital life in
the beginning, he now found these letters
none the less adapted to the brightening
of camp life, and they were still con
tinued. But as his regiment was often
on the move and the mails were un¬
certain, they were less frequent and
regular. With the battle of Chickamauga
they came to an abrupt end. Lillie’s
letters were returned, with the sad in¬
telligence that Raymond had been killed
in battle. If she had heretofore de¬
ceived herself with regard to her interest
in this soldier whom she had never seen,
she did so now no longer. It was in the
spirit of widowhood that she mourned
her dead hero and king of men. Foolish
it may have been and unreasonable, but
when has love reasoned? Nor was this
loss alone. Peace has its vicissitudes and
its tragedies as well as war. Her father
sickened and died. The mother had
gone years before. Overwhelmed with
her soitows, Lillie went to live with an
aunt in a neighboring State. Her father
had once been well-to-do, but had lost
his property, and there was but little left.
Until the estate was settled that little
was not available. She did not want to
feel dependent on her relatives, and so
engaged in teaching in the village. She
often thought of offering herself as a
nurse, but now she felt quite unequal to
the work. With a good constitution, a
lively disposition, and in perfect health
when troubles came upon her, she now
grew listless, thoughtful and sad.
Raymond was not killed. A shell had
burst near his head, and the tremendous
concussion had felled him to the earth,
where he lay a long time unconscious.
None of the fragments of the shell had
touched him. When he finally recovered
his senses so far as to sit up, he looked
around, bewildered. He only partially
recalled what had occurred. The battle
bad ebbed away, but the thunder raged
and roared in the distance. A blind in¬
stinct led him to try to regain his regi¬
ment. He stood up dizzily at last, and
with his musket for a support started in
the direction of the firing. He had no
idea of his bearings, and did not know
that his regiment and the whole line had
fallen back, and he soon ran into a group
of Confederates and was captured.
The accident was more serious than the
reader might be led to suppose. With
care, rest and good food, he would prob¬
ably at no distant day have regained his
former condition. As it was, while he
soon recovered his physical health in
part, it left him in a curious mental state.
The past had at first been entirely blotted
out. Little by little he recovered its ex¬
periences, but he could not for a long
time recall names. Months of imprison¬
ment followed. At last he managed to
escape, and after incredible hardships
reached the Union lines more dead than
alive. And now another hospital ex¬
perience followed, lightened by no cor
respondence, for he could not remember
Lillie’s name or address—he had, of
course, lost all letters—and the more he
tried to remember, the more hopeless
seemed the attempt. Finally, he gave it
up altogether. At last he reached his
regiment again, greatly to the astonish¬
ment of his comrades, but not to see
much more service. The three years for
which the men had enlisted were about
to expire, and inestimable although the Government
gave them the privilege of re¬
enlisting as veterans, most of the “boys”
decided that they would first go to their
homes.
Early one morning, therefore, in the
autumn of 1864, the cars bought them to
the little town of H-. They had no
rations, and were hungry. Arrange¬
ments had been made for their breakfast
at a larger place on the road a little
farther along, but for some reason they
were delayed several hours here. Natur¬
ally they began to spread about the little
village, and the citizens bestirred them¬
selves to do the best they could under
the circumstances. Without preparation
or concert, their efforts were not very sys¬
tematic, but they were hearty. The gro¬
ceries, restaurants and hotels were taxed
to their utmost. Raymond was walking
through the little town, looking for the
chance of breakfast, but not seeing how
he could exactly press himself upon those
citizens who already seemed much over¬
crowded.
As he was passing a modest cottage on
a side street a middle-aged lady, standing
in the yard, and holding a child by the
hand, addressed him:
“Soldier!”
He turned and brought his hand to the
visor of his cap as though it was a superior
officer, instead of a superior being, he
saluted.
“Did you speak, ma’am?”
“Have you had breakfast?” she said.
He said that he had not yet had that
pleasure.
“Come in, then,” she returned. “Ours
is just ready.”
He looked at his hands and his clothes
with some anxiety. It was three years
since he had eaten a really civilized meal,
and his ambition did not extend beyond
a slice of bread and meat. Perceiving
the kindness of the intention however, he
accepted the invitation.
Opposite him at the table sat a young
lady dressed in black, whom the hostess
spoke of, in a half introduction, as her
niece. His own name was not asked.
There was something in the air and man¬
ner of this young lady, even more than in
hey dress, suggesting some recent great
sorrow. She did not hold herself out as
a wretched being whose only refuge is
the grave. She was not gloomy or woe¬
begone. She listened politely to the con¬
versation, taking little part, except now
and then to ask a question, which finally
brought the young man to speak some¬
thing of his experiences. She was atten¬
tive, while she was somewhat thoughtful
and sad. As he went on he noticed that
her interest deepened, and once, as he
looked up, he was surprised and a little
startled at the intenseness of her look.
When he spoke of Chickamauga, her
pallor deepened so visibly that her aunt
asked suddenly if she were ill. She re¬
gained her composure in a moment, and
said she was quite well. Still her voice
was very low, with a slight tremor in it,
as she asked the number of his regiment,
and she turned white as he gave it.
The next question came slowly. She
struggled hard to control her voice, which
vibrated painfully, and sank almost to a
whisper:
“Did you know—Fred Raymond, of
Company B?”
It was his turn now to be astonished.
Who was this who asked so unimportant
a question with such a tragic air, and
who waited the answer as though life or
death might hinge upon it? The aunt
looked from one to the other in open
mouthed wonder.
“I am Fred Raymond,” he faltered.
But before he had said it she saw the
answer in his face, and slipped to the
floor.
He held her head while the aunt ran
for the smelling-salts. It was not the
right thing to do in a case of fainting,
but few people ever do treat such a case
properly. He had never, it* all his life,
had a young lady’s head on his arm, and
was awkward and excited. He thought
rapidly, but could not understand the
situation. He remembered his corre¬
spondent, and, curiously enough, at this
moment, the name came like a flash. But
this was not the town where she lived,
and this was not the young girl he had
pictured.
“Who is this young lady?” he asked.
“My niece, Miss Meline.”
“Meline? Lillie?” he gasped.
“In the name of wonder,” said the
aunt, “what does all this mean? Were
you acquainted with her?”
“Yes—no—I believe so,” he answered,
rather obscurely. “I will explain by
and by.”
Miss Meline soon recovered, in spite of
the unphysiological treatment. She
looked at her aunt to see whether any
further revelation had taken place. Her
embarrassment was extreme, and the pal¬
lor in her cheeks gave way to a bright
crimson.
“I was sick,” she apologized, forget¬
ting _ that she had denied it.
once
He was also much agitated, and ex¬
ceedingly doubtful as to what he ought
to do or say. She was about to leave the
room with her aunt when he spoke.
“Miss Meline”—and she saw that the
secret was out—“I don’t know at all
what to say. I don’t know anything at
all about the customs of society. I have
never had anything to do with young
ladies in my life except my correspond¬
ence with you. My accident at Chicka¬
mauga affected my brain fora long time,
so that I could not remember. Perhaps
now I have gone quite crazy. It is too
absurd, I know, but I cannot go now
without saying more—if vou will hear
it.”
He paused a moment, but she did not
forbid it, and he went on:
“I do not know how to explain it.
Either from the effect of that shell, or
from the weakness end half starvation
that followed, I was never able to remem¬
ber your name; though you don’t know
how hard I tried to think, and how much
I should have liked to hear from you
again. All this time I thought you were
a little girl. But now, if I die for it, I
must say it—J love you, dear Miss Lillie.”
He did not die for it. She took a step
nearer, held out her hand, and then leaned
her pretty head on his shoulder.
“It is all so sudden,” she murmured;
“but—” and she nestled closer, and with
a sort of sob she added.: “And all this
time I thought you were dead .”—Frank
Leslie's.
A Wall of Bayonets.
It is common to tear about “a solid
wall of bayonets” in war time, but at the
Barracks is a veritable wall of them now,
says Sergeant Matthews, of the Jefferson
Barracks, in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
When the late war was declared off the
Union Government found itself in pos¬
session of a vast number of muskets use¬
less. They were stored up for awhile in
various arsenals, until radical improve¬
ments made them utterly worthless. And
when an old gun gets worthless it iff the
most intensely worthless thing extant. So
these guns that cost millions were not
worth paying rent for storing. At this
place a fence was built with them. The
gun barrels, with bayonets fixed, were
stood up four inches apart for a quarter
of a mile, and then secured by bars of
iron, forged from old guns, with holes
piejeed to admit the old muskets. It is
the most formidable fence I ever saw. The
bayonets which, in many instances, have
given death wounds are rusted now until
they could not be removed from the bar¬
rels. The posts of this unique fence are
of old cannon.
Yaluable Hereditary Jewels.
Among the hereditary jewels belonging
to the Duke of Cumberland are Queen
Charlotte’s pearls valued at about $750,
000, and about which for twenty years
Queen Victoria and the Hanover King
quarreled with magisterial dignity. The
Queen maintained they belonged insisted" by right
to England. The King they
should have been sent to Hanover in 1837
on the death of William IV. The other
jewels belonging to the Duke are valued
at $2,000,000. His gold and silverplato
weigh twelve tons.
Getting Rid of Muskrats.
Muskrats are reported to be very numer¬
ous and destructive to crops on the river
and creek bottoms. A farmer suggests
that if a little corn, after being boiled
and then steeped in a solution containing
strychnine, be scattered along the path
and in places frequented by them, that it
will not be many mornings before no
sign of them can be seen. Suppose you
try that remedy?— Cherokes (Ga.) Ad¬
vance.
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES PROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Undone — .Judgment Suspended —
Choose Well Your Doctor—
All He Wanted—Her
Voice—Etc., Etc.
The bid me laugh and with mirthsome wiles
And the laughing jests of the free and gay,
They seek to call to mv face the smiles
They They bid mock me sing the joy with that the is far away.
But the mocking chorus merry crowd.
How I laugh goes on and on—
can when the heart is bowed,
And the back suspender button gone?
— Burdette.
JUDGMENT SUSPENDED.
j a , , ,
Mrs. Golightly—“Nothing. He hasn't
seen the bill yet.”— Bazar.
CHOOSE WELL TOUR DOCTOR.
Sweet Girl—“What did you give
mamma for her cold?”
Her lover (a young physician)—
“Opium. She won’t bother us to¬
night .”—New York Weekly.
ALL HE WANTED.
Stern Parent (to a young applicant for
his daughter’s hand)—“Young man, can
you Young support a family?”
Man (meekly)—“I only wanted
Sarah .”—Boston Post.
HER VOICE.
Mr. Smithers (of Philadelphia, at a
Boston reception)—“Her voice reminds
me of our Independence bell.”
Mr. Bean—“Ah! has the true ring, you
mean?” "
Mr. Smithers—“No; it’s cracked.”—
Bazar.
I
the young housekeeper.
Butcher—“How would you like,
madam, for me to cut up the pig?”
Young Housekeeper—“Oh, it is all
one to me as long as you cut a great
deal of ham .”—San Francisco Wasp.
XO DAGGER.
Young Skipjack—“Ah—I would like
to cross that field, do you think—ah—
that cow would hurt me ?”
Farmer—“Did you ever hear of a cow
hurtin’a calf ?”—The Argosy.
_
AX ECONOMICAL FAMILY.
Smith—“'Well, thank heaven, my
daughters are ugly. ”
t Brown—“Why, thanks?”
Smith—“n ell, you see, when their
beaux call, they turn the gas down and
save a great deal of expense.”— Time.
THE MOTION RULED OUT.
Papa (earnestly)—"Daughter, didn t I
enjoin upon you not to see that young
man again? ’
Daughter (quite as earnestly)—“Yes,
papa, but he came with an order of
to vacate the injunction, and I vacated
Washington Critic.
A HEALTHY MEMBER OF THE FAMILY.
“Mike, don’t you know you shouldn’t
have your pig sty so near the house?”
“Shure then, whv not, doctor?”
“Because it’s very unhealthy.”
“Indade, doctor, an you’re wrong there!
My pig has never been sick an hour in
his life, bedad !”—Fliegende Blaetter.
-
WHAT THE HUSBAND THOUGHT.
Mrs. Newhobbie—“My husband dis
covered me practising mv new physical
culture ‘
exercise yesterday.”
Mrs. Delsartc—•'He did? What did
he say?”
Mrs. Newhobbie—“He said; ‘Great
heavens! Epilepsy””_ Chicago Journal,
UNCOMPLIMENTARY TOASTING.
ririmcnnhaoi- ut ___-t. night.^ 6 ,
your friend Bacon the otter
Yeast—“Is that a fact?”
-Statesman.
“FUR FAIR EXCHANGE EXCHANGE v NO n BnuBm ROBBERY. »
Ardent 1011 th “My dear Miss Stony
heart, you sent me in return for the verses
I composed in your honor, a lock of hair,
But, as I now observe, it is not out of
y°^ Far '"L. Sighted , Maiden—-‘Oh, . that
was
but a fair exchange, for the poem wasn t
out of yours.
EVERY little helps.
Mrs. Slimdiet, the Landlady—“Excuse
me, Mr. Dashaway, I notice you have
dropped a small bit of fish on your waist
coat.”
will Dashaway—“Thank you, madam. You
pardon me if I replace it on my
plate, for (he added sadly) I need it ’—
New York Sun.
CHEEK TO THE SWEET.
P. Munchausen Cadson, Esq.—“Talk
about advenchaws! Why, good gwa
cious! when I was out in Nebwaskaw I
was stwuck slap on the—er—cheek by a
Comanche’s bullet, by gwacious!”
Miss Dorothy Debutante—“Oh! do let
me see it, please. I never saw a flattened
bullet.”— To-Day.
MANAGING A BOY.
Husband (a literary man)—“I wish you
would stop watching little Dick for a
while.”
Wife—“But if I don’t watch him he'll
be in mischief.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. When he’s
in mischief he’s quiet, and I want to
write.”— New York Weekly.
THE ONLY WAY TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM.
“I am devoted to phrenology and I
love the study and pursuit of literature,
and am puzzled as to which I should
make my life work,” said the student.
“My dear boy,” returned the Profes¬
sor, “why don’t you toss a cent and de¬
cide the matter that way? Heads
Bator. phrenology; tail’s letters.”— Harper's
• X
'
A POSSIBLE DAN'GEE.
Wife (anxiously)—“John, I am afraid
that I may be run away with some dav. ”
Husband— 4 ‘Not the slightest danger of
that, my dear!”
“I don t know, John, those new
horses are very spirited.”
“Oh, you mean the horses may run
away with you. I see. Perhaps I had
better sell them.”— Siftings.
TENDER SOLICIT DDE.
“The dearest and sweetest object in all
the world,” said the young husband,
fondly, “I hold in these arms. ”
“Isn’t he a little darling?” assented the
young wife, with a gleam of pride in her
eyes. “And to think they wanted us to
put him in a kennel at Battery O for the
mob to look at! Please don’t embrace
us so hard, Alfred. Fido doesn't like to
be treated roughly.” Chieoga TnM„.
AT THE FISH DEALER'S.
“Please send up to my house to- mor
row a couple of nice bass.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, by the way, be sure they are
bass. I'm going off for a day, and—er
—er—the last time I went I told my wife
it was for trout fishing, and you sent up
a fresh mackeral. These little errors of
yours are causing strained relations in
my family.”— Epoch.
.
FROM THE FULLNESS OF T UB HEART.
Bimberly—“Doddley, you are a mar¬
ried man, and ought to be able to tell me
what I want to know. Are these gags
about a woman's pocket being so hard to
I S et at founded on facts or not?”
j—“You Doddley (who married a rich widow)
can bet they are. By the way,
Bimberly, have you got a couple of dol
lars you could loan me till Saturday?”—
Terre Haute Express.
-
HINGES TO THE BODT.
“Seldom a day passes but I read some
story about the quaint sayings and doings
of children,” remarked an experienced
paterfamilias to a friend on the rear plat
j form of a Niagara street car.
“They do say some funny things.”
“Yes, indeed. My little six-year-old
daughter got off something new this
morning. Her older brother had been
going through some gymnastic exercises
and she had been watching him atten
lively. She suddenly turned to me, say
ing: ‘Papa, ain't it funny that we've
; got so many hinges all over our bodies. ? T?
I —Buffalo Commercial.
: DEEPLY INTERESTED. '
, “Whet's all this I see in the papers
about the Samoan question?” asked Sirs,
Hixby of her husband the other evening,
Hixby. delighted to have his wife in¬
terested in public affairs, began at the be
. ginning and carefully and elaborately de
tailed the entire affair to his wife, and
-^hen he was through he said: “Now,
do you understand it, my dear?”
j “Ye-e-s, I think Ido, George. only I
ve t> een thinking_”
“Thinking what?”
“Thinking for the last ten minutes
that, after all, I'd have a cardinal instead
of lettuce-leaf green on my new bonnet.
j Wouldn’t you like the cardinal better,
: dearest?”— Time.
Ge,ns and Tieir Composition.
“No,” said the chemist, “the ruby is
; not called a ruby because it is red, for
j the topaz, which maybe yellow or a deli
i cate wine color, and the sapphire, which
is blue, are both rubies. The humble
toiler consoling himself with his clay to
bacco pip e ‘ the potter molding the plastic
cla ! “to shape upon his magic wheel, or
the delver in dam P slate quarries, proba
bly does not know that his pipe and his
cla N aad brittie slate are of the very
substance from which the flaming Orien
tal ruby, the mellow torpaz and the rich
sapphire are evolved; but such is the
fact. They are among the most beautiful
!j' °l lace gems ’ - Tet ^“ aT ° but sim .P ts le of alllm of a
ou ? ea c ? “. a '
, , ,
! f ° <\ t^glmg of bromic
j acid with the parent clay.
1 ‘'Different from the Oriental topaz is
j the topaz from Brazil, which, beautiful
j as it is, is nothing but a compound of
j silica, or flint, and alumina, which also
make the garnet, and largely compose the
Occidental emerald and the beryl stone.
These two stones also contain an earth
known as glucina, so called because of
! the sweetness of the salts discovered in it.
1 “The diamond is the king of gems, a
j opal monarch is its blazing moonlight like the Yet, sun, and the
: queen. as every
: one knows, the diamond is only a chip of
j coal, and the opal, as every one does not
know, is simply a mingling of silica and
j water. But the diamond is the spiritual
evolution of coal, the realization of its
highest being. Ten parts of water and
ninety parts of silica, combined in the
mystic crucible of nature, form the opal,
the water giving to the gem that shifting,
changeable, irridescent coloring which is
the opal's peculiar charm. Who would
imagine that the fire in the opal is not
fire at all, but, of all things, water! And
yet the silica that holds the radiant
moisture captive is the common flint from
which our forefathers struck the igniting
sparks into their tinder boxes.
“But the opal is not the only precious
stone that owes its being to flint. The
amethyst, the cat's-eye, the Egyptian
jasper—all are idealizations of the ulti¬
mate efforts of natural chemistry acting
on silica. What is the lapis lazuli? A
bit of common earth painted throughout
with sulphuret of sodium. And the
turquoise—what forms it? and how did it
receive it soft, pale blue color? The tur¬
quoise is phosphate of alumina, and cop¬
per in the earth gave it its lovely hue.
Chrysolite is pure silicate of magnesia.
Of the rare decorative stones and marbles,
if there were no carbonate of copper the
seeker after malachite would find his
search fruitless, and the sculptor would
ajgh in vain for the matchless Carrara
marble if there was no carbonate of lime.
—New York Sun.
Saccharine, the new sweet, will not'
crystalize or ferment.
Subscription: Jl ;26 in idnoet.
WEARYIN’ FOR YOU,
Jest a-wearyin’ for yon.
All the time a-feelin’ bine;
Wishin’ for you, wonderin’ when
Ton’ll be cornin’ home agen;
Restless—don’t know what to do,
Jest a-wearyin’ for you.
Keep a-mopin’ day by day;
Dull—in everybody’s way.
Folks they smile an’ pass along
Wonderin’ what on earth is wrong:
’Twonldn’t help ’em if they knew
Jest a-wearyin’ for you.
Room’s so lonesome, with your chair
Empty by the fireside there;
Jest can’t stand the sight of it;
Go out-doors an’ roam a bit.
But the woods is lonesome, too,
Jest a-wearyin’ for you.
Comes the wind with soft caress
Like the rustlin’ of your dress;
Blossoms failin’ to the ground
Softly-like your footsteps sound;
Violets-like your eyes so blue.
Jest a-wearyin’ for you.
Mornin’ comes: The birds awake
(Used to sing so for your sake.)
But there’s sadness in the notes
That come thrillin’ from their throats I
Seem to feel your absence too,
Jest a-wearyin’ for you.
Evenin' falls: I miss you more
When the dark glooms in the door;
Seems jest like you orter be
There to open it for me ’
Latch goes tinklin’—thrills me through
Sets me wearyin’ for you.
Jest a-wearyin’ for you!
All the time a-feelin’ blue!
Wishin’ for you—wonderin’ when
Ton’ll he eomin’ home agen.
Restless—don’t know what to do—
Jest a-wearyin' for you!
—F. L. Stanton, in Atlanta Constitution.
PITH AND POINT.
A gentleman of color—A painter.
The path of duty—Through the Custom
House.
If it’s a fare question, what does it cost
to board a train ?— Troy Press.
Learn the brick-mason's trade if you
wish an occupation in which you can lay
up something .—Terre Haute Express.
He (tenderly)—“May I see you pretty
soon?” She (reproachfully)—“Don’t you
think I am pretty now ?”—Troy Times.
The telephone bells go ringing,
Till editors think it’s a bore.
For citizens’ voices are singing,
“Hello, there! what’s the score?'’
A California paper tells of a hen that
has a perehant for laying in umbrellas.
Looking out for a rainy day, probably.—
Siftings.
A Western ball club has just signed a
player by the name of Stitch; perhaps he
has been taken in time to save the nine.
— Gazette.
Cannibals do not care for poetry as a
rule, though they have been heard to
speak in the highest terms of a little
sonn-et.— Siftings.
Teacher—“What was there remarkable
about the battle of Lookout?” Little
Dick (at the foot ot the ciass ; -“It caused
bangs on the brow of a mountain.”—
Binghamton Republican.
Sirs. Blobsom (contemptuously)—
“What do men know about women’s
clothes, anyway?” Mr. Blobson (meekly)
—“Nothing, except how much they
cost .”—Burlington Free Press.
Some scientific men declare that it is
impossible for a men to : oink without
words. That may be, but we all know
that it is possible for a man to use words
without thinking .—ScmerriUe Journal.
A DOMESTIC POEM.
She hit the nail a fearful whack—
I meant to say, she tried;
She bathed her thumb with arnica,
And then sat down and cried.
—The Epoch.
A patriotic son of Erin was declaiming
against England’s injustice and Ireland’s
sufferings. “While Ireland remains
silent,” he exclaimed, “England will be
deaf to her heart-rending cries.”—
Mercury.
Ohe, they called him,because his name
was Obediah. They were getting up tab¬
leaux, and when Obe’s girl was asked
what character she would prefer to take,
she replied, naively: “Any part, so that
I can be Niobe.”— Siftings.
.4 Possible Phase of the Phonograph.
There is one possible phase of the pho¬
nograph which suggests the desirability
of calling a halt to invention. The in¬
strument has been used to t3ke the sound
of the heart’s beating, and it has been
suggested that people who can afford it
can keep a phonograph with which they
can from time to time record the action
of their heart, which they can listen to,
or have their physician listen to at leisure.
Heaven spare the world any such applica ¬
tion of the invention! We are sufficiently
conscious of our ills already. Hundreds
of people go around imagining that they
have a “heart trouble,” when if they
would only let their hearts alone they
would be perfectly well .—Boston Trans¬
cript.
An Intellectual Infant.
There is in Fort Valley, Ga., in the
person of little Dellie Harris, aged six¬
teen months, the greatest prodigy of the
present day. She not only talks and ar¬
ticulates well, but knows the infant cate¬
chism by heart; also the county she was
born in (Crawford), the town she lives in,
the county site, the names of the Presi¬
dent and Vice-President, the Governor,
and the Mayor of Fort Valley; can count
up to fifty, and says the alphabet with
great rapidity. Beside all this, she is
bright " in many other things which any
one would doubt did they not see and
hear ter talk.— Cincinnati Enquirer.
The total production of coal in West
Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, Alabama,
Tennessee, Virginia, Georgia, Arkansas tona,i
and Texas in 1888 was 18,001,567
against valued at total the production mines at of $19,816,777, 15,261,743
a
tons in 1887, valued at $16,593,697.