Newspaper Page Text
THE LINCOLNTON
VOLUME VII. NUMBER 32.
New York and Or«gon bar* wheeled int#
line as Arbor Day State*.
The militia of the United States Is re¬
ported to be in a flourishing condition.
The nations of Europe are taxing the
people into poverty to build war vessels
ind pay armies and navies.
Brazil is a country where American
fugitives would be as secure from arrest
is they have Mtherto been in Canada.
’ Never, in the history of the United
States, has there been such a scramble
for farms as was witnessed at Oklahoma.
The Boston Herald humorously remarks
that the defeat of Prohibition in Con¬
necticut looks like a case of Pro. and
Conn.
i It is estimated that Americans will
ipend $40,000,000 in Europe this season,
of which probably $2,000,000 will gofor
tips.
Boulanger is in danger of being forced
to come to tSte United States. The
English Government has warned him not
to be perniciously active in London or he
may be expelled.
! Population is scattered in New South
i so
Wales that in one case in a recent elec¬
tion where there was an omission to open
polls at a given locality, the electors had
to travel two hundred miles or lose their
votes.
i Senator Dixon, of Rhode Island, is one
of the young men of the United States
Senate. He and Faulkner,Kennn,Daniel,
Spooner, Higgins and Wolcott have
numbered not much more than forty years
apiece.
i Fifty counterfeit §10 bills were pre¬
sented and stopped at the banks at St.
Louis during one recent day. The
counterfeit is a dangerous one of the
series of 1885. It is supposed that at least
5000 of these bills are now in circulation.
j The delightful condition of the British
soldier is seen from the fact that a private
!who, upon being asked by the orderly
officer if he hqd any complaints to make
about his food, replied that he had none
except that the potatoes were not boiled
enough, was thereupon sentenced to pass
»ighty-four hours in a solitary cell for in
lubordination.
: A noteworthy event is the installation
of Mrs. J. M. Kellogg, wife of the
Attorney-General Missouri, as First
Assistant Attorney-General. She was
admitted to practice in the Supreme
Court eight years ago, and is a member
of the State Bar Association. For several
years she was a partner in the law busi¬
ness of her husband.
' Intelligence just received from tta
Solomon group of islands shows that a
shocking state of afiairs was prevalent in
some of the islands, massacres being fre¬
quent, owing to internecine wars. Can¬
nibalism was rampant, and it was said
that in one case at least where a number
of prisoners were captured the people,
after being slain, were roasted, their
bodies being afterward cut up, packed in
leaves, and exported to other islands for
distribution.
: Half a century ago in Turkey it war
considered a disgrace for a woman to
know how to read. To-day the Sultan
himself has established two schools for
girls in Constantinople. Seventy years
ago Harriet Newton went to India to find
the women shut up in zenanas, ignorant
and degraded. From the very place
where she landed there went to the
United Stated not long ago Mmc. Jashee,
a highly educated Brahmin woman, to
study medicine in the Woman’s College
In Philadelphia.
: Poor old Dhuleep Singh is evidently
hard up, says the New York Tribune.
He has written to Queen Victoria asking
her to give him the famous Koh-i-noor
'diamond or its market value in ready
cash. He wants the money to use in
India against the peace and integrity
of the Empire, a circumstance which,
coupled with the fact that the gem doesn’t
belong to him any more than to a score
of other Sikhs, makes his request seem
uncommonly cool. The son of the Pun
jaub Lion is in a pretty bad way.
One of the maddest men in the United
States, declares the Chicago Herald, is
Cyrus Henderson, of Fund du Lac, Wts.
A while ago he selected a claim in Okla
homa, and returning to the border went
to training a horse so as to be able to
reach his land before anybody else when
the Territory should be legally opened.
At the word “go” he was soon far ahead
of Everybody, and the distance, fifteen
miles, was covered in forty-five minutes.
Reining up his panting nag at the edge
of his quarter section he was literally
knocked out to see an old farmer quietly
plowing it up tor his spring crops.
Broken in spirit and disgusted with
Oklahoma real estate, Cyrus Henderson
returned sadly home.
DEVOTED TO THE INTEREST OF LINCOLN COUNTY.
THE BETTER CHANGE.
The road that hath no turning
Nairn* traveler* si etc with yearning;
To heart* whero sorrow* enter
Come joy* that vweeteat sag;
A world without a winter
Oan never know a *pring.
Man'* hope no fear can fetter
Where best may yet grow better;
Faith build* no walls of granite;
Where time is but begun,
And life, a ohanging planet,
Run* round a changeless sun.
Oh bliss of expectation! .
Oh sweeter revelation
Beyond these fading pleasures,
Beyond these falling tears.
Where love’s new-given treasures
Grow never old with year*!
Above all harm and hating,
Through pain of want and waitings
Come* holy comfort's wooing,
In words of heavenly breath,
“This grief is not undoing,
This dying is not death.”
Faith’s martyrs, love’s annotated,
Hope’s toilers disappointed,
Shorn lambs to shelter slumber
From earth’s oppression passed—
All, with God’s star-crowned number,
Shall find their meed at last.
To hold that future firmer
Is wise to do, nor murmur
Because its entrance only
Lies through the mortal gate.
The soul cannot be lonely
Where friends so many wait.
Death’s deluge boundless swelling,
May drift this transient dwelling,
When fear’s foreboding raven
Hath flown across the sea,
The dove of peace my haven
Will find, and come to me.
And I shall rest securely
At anchor there, and surely
God’s hand will break my prison,
And I my heaven shall view
When, for His children risen,
He maketh all things new.
—Thtron Brown, in Youth’s Companion.
A TERRIBLE RIDE.
BY WILLIAM M. GRAYDON.
“Now then, Dave, I reckon that’s
Shout all. Don’t fergit theterbacker, an’
don’t fail ter inquire if thar's any letters
fur Abram Bartlett,” and glaring at D ave
over his great horn spectacles, Mr. Bart¬
lett leaned over the counter and slowly
repeated the last clause.
“Yes, sir,” answered Dave, struggling
hard to keep back a smile, for Mr. Bart¬
lett’s anxiety about letters was a standing
joke at Dagon’s Cross Roads, as he was
never known to have received one yet.
‘ ‘And where are you expectin’ a letter
from, Mr. Bartlett?” Dave asked.
The storekeeper’s brow wrinkled and
he hesitated between anger and amaze¬
ment at such audacity. Before he could
reply the door opened and Squire Dag on
came in.
“Going to Wysanking, Dave?” he
Mked abruptly.
“Yes, sir.”
‘‘Now see here, my boy,” went on the
squire, pulling out a bulky-looking pocket
book. “I think I can trust you, and I
want you to attend to a little bussiness
for me. I ought to go to Wysanking
myielf to-day, but I find it impossible. In
tta* pocket-book is the money to pav the
loggers over in Powell’s Valley, There
are three hundred dollars in currency
there, and I want you to give it to Ned
Harkins, the boss. He must have it to¬
day so he can go up to Towanda and get
it changed to pay the men off on Satur
day . You will find him at the postoffice.
You have an inside pocket there. Put it
in that, and button your jacket tightly.
I guess there is no risk,” and the squire
looked uneasy for a minute. “Of course
not,” he added with a laugh. “Nobody
knows you have it. Better go now. No
time to waste if you want to get back to¬
night,” and with his own hands the
squire put the money in Dave’s pocket
and buttoned up the ragged jacket.
“I’ll deliver the money all right, Mr.
Dagon,” he said resolutely, as he started
toward the door.
“Now, Dave,” called out Mr..Bartlett,
“don’t fergit ter ax the postmaster if
there’s any—” but Dave was already out
of hearing.
“Dave Hunter is an honest lad,” ob¬
served the squire, lighting a dgar. “The
money will be safe enough with him, I
guess.”
Mr. Bartlett took a pinch of snuff, and
drawled out slowly: “Waal, yes I reckon
he is. But he’s gettin’ impudent, squire,
I declar’ he’s gettin’ impudent.”
The squire only laughed, and with a
cheery “good morning,” mounted his
horse and rode off to visit his lumber
cam _ s
Dave felt as happy as a lark as he
trudged off down the valley, pulling an
empty sled behind him. His father had
been killed by an accident several years
before at one of Squire Dagon’s lumber
camps, and ever since Dave had been
working did odd hard to support his mother. He
bits of work for Mr. Bartlett,
who kept the rude store at Dagon’s Cross
Roads, a backwoods settlement five miles
from the river. Nearly every week he
went to Wysanking across the Susque
hanna, and brought back such supplies
as the loggers purchased of Mr. Bartlett,
But Dave was only sixteen, and with
out Squire Dagon’s kindly help he would
have straggled in vain.
“My gracious!” he said half aloud as
he slapped his hands to his breast, “what
aheap of money! If that was mine I’d
'buy mother a new dress an’ a shawl, an’
•lots to eat, an’I’d go to school at To
'wanda, an’ have an overcoat, an’ a breech
loader gun an’—’’but Dave’s air castles
suddenly vanished as he looked up and
saw where he was
For - - nd him ran the valley, the
beaten footpath through the snow grow
ing dimmer and dimmer till lost in the
hazy distance. But above him, up the
steep mountain side crept a zigzag road,
This led up to the summit, and thence
along the crest to a lumber slide over
locking the river.
Both the slide and the road had been
LINCOLNTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JUNE 14, 1839.
in disuse for several years, bat an icy
crust was on the snow, sad Dave knew
that by taking this course he could sere
a good mile at least. He remembered
al*o that near the slide a gradual foot¬
path led down to the riv*r. He hesitated
only an instant, and them started up the
mountain.
Ha rested a While at the top, and then
went •* along the ridge. On both sides
thewas unbroken forest, Mid here and
there great masses of stone piled up in
fantastic shapes. It was a Wild, lonely
place, but Dave had not a thought of
fear. He could hear the mountain tor¬
rent down brawling in over its rock r bed away
the ravine, and some birds were
chattering in the wood*.
It was toward noon when he crossed a
small clearing that lay half a mile back
from widened the and river. The ’ridge at this point
formed quite a vast plateau.
Dave walked fast, and before long he
could see the end of the wood less than
a quarter of a mile away, and the great
pines that rose on either side of the slide.
He was still thinking of all the delight¬
ful possibilities that lay snugly next to
his breast, and wondering if ever he
would be the owner of so much money,
when a gruff voice broke in on his reflec¬
“Hullo, Dave, me boy!”
side Leaning against a great rock on one
of the path was Black Mike, a worth¬
less fellow, who had been discharged from
one of the camps nearly a week before,
and whom every ene supposed to be far
away by this time. A broad grin dis¬
torted his ugly face, and his hands were
thrust carelessly into his pockets.
Dave’s heart sank within him, but he
repressed all signs of fear, and with a
cheerful “How dy do, Mike!” he walked
past.
“See here a minit, me lad,” and Mike
stepped out in front of him. “I’ll
trouble ye to hand over that money, me
boy. You’re too young intirelv to be
trusted wid such valuables.”
He leered at Dave with a chuckle, evi¬
dently anticipating an easy victory.
Dave trembled as he realized how com
pletely he was in the ruffian’s power.
“Be quick, now,” added Mike. “I’ll
not harm ye. Pass it over, an’ go back
an’ tell ould Dagon him an’ me’s quits
no'w. Hurry up, Oi say,” and Mike’s
smile gave way to a heavy frown.
At this critical moment, like a flash an
inspiration came into Dave’s mind, a plan
so reckless, so daring, that it nearly took
his breath.
The money must be saved at any cost.
How could he face the squire and confess
that he had calmly handed it over at the
robber’s bidding?
Quick as conceived, his determination
was formed. He must take the only
chance, but it was a desperate one.
“See here, Mike,” said he, “what’ll
the squire say if I go back this way?
Can't you tie my hands behind me so
he’ll know I made a fight for it?”
Mike laughed loudly.
“Oi’ll be hanged if you ain’t a cute
one. I’ll see if Oi have any cord,’’and
he dove into his pockets with both hands.
Dave took one long breath, and like a
streak shot off down the road, with his
sled careering madly from side to side be¬
hind him.
1 , he daring . of the act nearly de
very
pnved Mike of his senses for an instant,
and with open mouth and staring eyes he
saw the space between them grow big¬
ger and bigger. Then, with a terrible
imprecation, he dashed in pursuit, shout¬
ing loudly: “Stop, ye thafe, stop, or
Oi’ll break every bone in yure body!”
Dave was making a desperate effort,
straining every nerve, and holding his
breath hard, but the infuriated Irishman
was coming on behind with great plung¬
ing strides that were rapidly bringing him
close.
The bluff of the mountain was very
near now, and beyond the cliff line Dave
could see, far across the river, snow-clad
fields and scattered farms, and even a tiny
church spire, shining clear in the bright
moonlight. But before him, only a few
yards now, was that awful abyss, ten
times longer and steeper than any tobag
gan slide ever built, a great gully, gliding
almost perpendicularly dowu tbe ragged
face of the mountain.
Dave remembered with a shudder how
the great logs used to plunge madly down
the slide, turning somersaults at the bot¬
tom, and churning the turbid tide of the
river into a seething caldron of tawny
yellow' foam, Now the river was ice
bound from shore to shore.
The robber’s crunching footsteps were
close behind him. An instant’s delay
and he was lost.
He stooped, grasped the sled with both
hands and threw himself with a forward
motion heavily down the path.
As the runners struck the frozen snow,
Black Mike, writh a wild cry, hurled him
self on Dave’s back. The sled, freighted
heavy burden shot rapidly down
the P ath ,’ «d darting between two great
P' neS ’ P lun « ed sullcn! r oyer the bnnk ’
Not a cr y escaped its occupants, and
what fol l°wed Dave could never after¬
ward s P eak of intelligently. When the
8 ^ ed mnde the plunge he jerked his cap
P artl y ov(,r his eyes and held his head
flo "' n - Hc remembered the Irishman’s
heav y reached wci S ht on bis back > tbe and iong arms
that beyond his own gripped
* be s i des °1 the sled. Then came a blind,
< i' zz y sensation, a roaring in his ea:s,
burning pains as of a thousand needles
P‘ erc i n 8 b i* hands and face, a feeling of
suffocation. Next, just as his cap was
wrenched violently . from his head. , the
sled appeared to leave the ground, leap
ma dly into the air, and with a stunning
shock that seemed to have shattered every
b °ne in his body he lost consciousness,
It was only momentarily. He opened
b ' s ®y es i anc l wbb aac ba nd drops of
blood from his face. They were gliding
wkb f ea -rfnl velocity over the frozen river
straight toward Wysanking. He remem
b f ed oul y dimly what had happened,
That heavy weight was still pressing on
bis back -
Instinctively he reached for his breast
pocket. The money was there. He was
just beginning to realize the situation
when the sled plunged blindly into a
half-frozen air-hole surrounding a great
brown rock in the center of the river.
He heard the ice crack and break, he
Wit the icy water splashing full in Ms
face, and then in some mysterious man¬
ner, he never knew how, th* crushing
weight had parted from him, and the
noble «led was bounding over the solid
ice again at a beautiful speed.
A moment more and it* iron runners
scraped the sands on tee Wv«enking
shore.
Dizzy and bleeding, Dave staggered
up the bank and looked back across the
river.
Sitting disconsolate anu forlorn on the
rounded apex of the rock was Black
Mike, and around him was a circle of
deep, open water, which completely iso
lated his position. His dripping gar
ments w«re beginning to freeze, and he
was uttering pitiful shouts of distress.
Dave watched him an instant, and then
he turned away and ran off at full speed
huge old-fashioned stove in the combined
grocery store and postoffie* were: greatly
startled when Dave rnshed wfldly in the
door with his bleeding face and hands.
“'Where’s Ned Harkins!" he gasped.
“The money—here it is—Black Mike is
out—on the rock—in the-” And
then, for the second time that day, Dave
fainted.
Black Mike was rescu by the aid of
boards, rather more dea< han alive, and
Towanda. was speedily consigned t«. * stone cell in
That same evening Dave was escorted
back to Dagon’s Cross Roads by an ad¬
miring crowd, and in front of Bartlett's
store was received by the squire himself,
who publicly called him a hero, and
ended up by presenting him with a
pocket-book that felt as heavv as lead.
As the squire stepped aside. Mr. Bart
lett came out of his store.
“Dave Hunter,” he called out shrilly, an^
“did you fergit ter ax if there was
m ^?wAdT The wild shout B t art of n laughter ta ta heP rf^ that ffiCer arose ’
made the storekeeper’s eyes flash under
his spectacles, and in the confusion Dave
slipped off home. His heroism had re
eeived due recognition from the squire,
and he is now on a sure road to pros
P y ;
As * for Black t>, , Mike, _ he spent ^ two years
in close confinement for his share in the
adventure. No one ever knew how he
discovered that Dave had (he money that
day.
One summer afternoon long afterwards,
Dave visited the old lumber slide, and,
as he looked into the dizzy gulf, he saw
what had caused that last great crash.
Half a dozen yards from the bottom was
a huge log, stretched ha3 directly across the
passage. The snow backed up above
this, and the fearful momentum had sent
the sled far into-the air, landing, strange
tosay, fair and square on its runners—
The Argosy.
The Girls and the Porcupine.
May Wallters and Libbie Williams, two
young girls who live on Cottage Hill, Oil
City, Penn., had an unusual experience
with a porcupine, although at the time
they did not know what kind of an animal
it was, and they were very much fright¬
ened. They were returning home from
the opera house, and while going up
Plumer road, on the outskirts of the town,
they were startled by the sudden appear¬
ance of the animal at the roadside. The
animal was probably as badly frightened
as the girls and attempted to ran across
the road in front of them. A buggy com¬
ing down the road scared the animal so
that it ran directly against Miss Williams,
and in the confusion she tramped on it.
Several of the porcupine's quills went
through her shoe and penetrated her foot.
She naturally thought she had been bitten
and screamed loudly. The gentleman in
the buggy and a woman living near came
to her assistance. In the meantime the
animal had got away, and had it not been
for two or three quills sticking in her shoe
it would not have been known what kind
of an animal it was, and the girl would
have been distressed with the thought that
she had been bitten by some kind of a wild
animal. It was subsequently learned that
a few evenings prior to this incident Mr.
Fleischmann, who has a tailor shop in the
Third Ward, near the hill, found a live
porcupine in his cellar. It had evidently
come down out of the woods and crawled
through the cellar window. Peter Gruber,
who has many small wild animals, snakes
and birds in his museum adjoining his sa¬
loon on Elm street, was sent for to capture
the porcupine. In the meantime two dogs
were let into the cellar by some boys, and
fight ensued between them and the stray
animal. Its mode of warrarequickly de
moralized the dogs and when Mr. Gruber
arrived the animal had escaped to the
woods and the dogs were hors de combat.
Their mouths were sticking so full of quills
that they could not close them, and they
were whining piteously and evidently suf
fering great agony, lleischmann and
Gruber pulled the quills out of their jaws.
The porcupine that the girls encountered
may be the same one, or it may be one
that escaped some days ago from Grubers
museum .—Chicago Herald.
Dog Portraits.
It is, perhaps, not generally known
that more money can be made nowadays
by painting the portraits of of the dogs than by
limning the features human ani¬
mal. The extent to which dog portrait¬
ure is being carried is almost incredible,
and is a remarkable sign of the times.
There is one well-known painter, whom
the public would no more would suspect of dog
painting than they of designing
pictorial advertisements for somebody's
soap, who makes a large income in this
way. Of course there is nothing dis¬
creditable about it, but it shows that a
curious fancy has taken hold of the dog¬
owning public. Many a man who would
not dream of having his own portrait or
that of any of his children painted,would
pay readily and h; ndsomely for a good
portrait of his favorite dog. The natural
result is that the ri ma.nd creates a sup¬
ply, and the number of artists who de¬
vote themselves .to this branch of art is
very large .—Lon don Li fe.
A Greek professor. Paresi byname, has
found in the milk and pulp of the cocoa
nut a specific v for tape worm.
BUDGET OF FUN.
mnrcmovH sketches prom
VARIOUS SOURCES.
A Successful Bard—A Clear Con
science—Very Practical Mr.
Shoddy—A Righteous Pro¬
test, Etc., Ete.
Miss Minerva—“If is is a proper ques
tion, please tell me, Mr. Longlocks, if
the magazines ever return anv of veur
poems? I have such ill-luck mvself,”
<4 Xo, neTer.”
Grumps (inaudiblvl—“He never sends
stamps.”— Chicago Herald
_
*
A clear covsciekcb
„
! ^ong, Bobby; I hope
j , y °“ “ ‘ ^“ g L
! v
, «“£«*»%; 1 r “«»I<Joisto hold the dog.
'
VERT PRACTICAL MR. SHODDY.
Mrs. Bhoddv (before serving the soup,
and wishing to say what is proper;—“I
always say, ‘Will you drink soup!' What
I do you say, Mrs. Newstar!”
Mrs. Newstar fin Mrs. Shoddy’s set; —
What “I generally do say, ‘Will you eat soup!’ j
i yon say, Mr. Shoddy?”
Mr. Shoddy (hungry and wrathfully)— j
“I’ll take soup.”— Bazar.
-
A righteous protest.
Street-car Conductor (to passenger;—
“You'll have to pay fare for that Staid,
sir; heisover six.”
Passenger—“Well, that's the first time
I've been asked to pay fare for that babv.
and he's ridden with me on street ca’rs
Tor nine years and mor oP-Harper's
WteMy '
-
the road to tame.
“Johnny,” said the father, severely,
“are you still reading that history?"
“Yes, father.”
“Well, you drop it pretty quick and
bustle out 'vith your baseball bat and go
to practising. If you ain’t careful you
never will get famous.”
AXOTHER VIEW.
“Fencing." says an authority, “is one
of the most enjoyable of athletic sports."
Maybe it is, maybe it is. Still there are
liable to be exceptions one would im
agine. For instance, if it were a ten-acte
lot that was to be fenced, and one had to
split the rails .—Detroit Free Press.
-
a feat wowthy of de lesseps.
Husband (just from Europe, traveling)
i have »d new*. Coming across
on the Servia I lost vour pet dog over
"
board ”
Wife—“Heavens! Fidolost!”
Husband-“Yes, third dav * out from
Queenstown.”
Wife—“Dredge for him at once."—
Epoch.
ANXIOUS FOR A PROPOSAL.
Elderly Spinster (at Navy Department)
.—“I understand that you are going to !
open a lot of sealed proposals here to
da y.”
Officials—“Yes, madam, we are.”
Elderly Spinster—“Well. I guess I'll
sit down and wait. I'm not going to
throw away any such chance as
Puck. _ ‘
CORRECT IX HIS GRAMMAR.
“Did to-day', everything go off pleasantly - at
school John!"
“ Yes, mother, but some bad boys per
suaded me to play truant.”
“You mean they tried to persuade vou.
John; if they had persuaded you you
would have gone off with them. ”
“That s what I did. —Boston Tran
tcript.
A SCEXE IN CANNIBAL LAND.
Artist—“Here is a very suitable pict
ure, Mr. Gibbs. It represents Rev. Mr.
Goss, the missionary, in the center of a
group of cannibals."
Deacon Gibbs—"I see the cannibals,
Mr. Turps, but where, is the missionary!"
Artist—“Didn’t I just tell you that he
was in the center of the cannibals!”_
Ttrre Haute Express.
she dibn't go. '
Mother—“Johnnie, why are you cry
j n g* I’m only going to be away a week.
and your papa will be home with you.”
“No, he won’t;' he's going to Rome.”
“Going to Rome! Why, child, what
do you mean?”
“I heard him say that he would make
Rome howl when you left.”
“ 0 h, indeed! ‘Well. I won't leave
T0U; Johnnie."— Lincoln (Neb. 1 Journal.
*
-
ax accident.
m Do prifT f Boston in s Dakota
hotel )_“ Waiter, what caused the ex
plosion just now at the other end of the
dining-room? Was somebody shot!”
Waiter—“Oh, no sir. We don't, al
low shooting in the dining-room. The
cook was a little careless and let a car
tridge from his revolver fall in the soup.
and the gent who was just carried out
happened to crush it between his teeth."
— Time.
HE FRIGHTENED HER.
Young Wife-—“Oh, George, see this
lovely little statuette I brought to-dav.
It’s gold.”
George (examining it)—“Did the dealer
say it was gold?”
Young Wife—“Y-e-e-s; isn’t it?”
George—‘ ‘A part of it is of base metal. ”
Young Wife—“Is that, so? AVhat
part?” dear.”—
George — “The pedestal,
Drake's Magazine.
K PATHETIC INCIDENT.
“How much can I get on this!”
The childish face looked up appeal
ingly to the hard visage that gazed down
contemptuously upon the little out
stretched,hand.
(Ahp.the old, pitiful story—childhood
too soon pressed into the service of grind¬
ing poverty—the last fond relie of hap¬
pier days pledged for bread and Hr *—£
“Not morn ’n a pint,” said the foe
j cream vender, aa he took the saucer, “tf
your ms wants a quart , she’d oughter '▼*
* bi £8 er piste, sonny. - '— Port.
Lincoln's estimate op VARIOLOID.
Will Cumbaek was at the Ebbitt. “Speak
ing about the President,” said he, “and
the office seekers, of course, where there
are tbre « applicants for every position
two ar * ?°* n g to be disappointed. He
can t give them all places. That reminds
nie. When Lincoln was President he
was taken and the doctor told him he
had varioloid.
“ ‘What is it?’ he asked.
“ ‘Varioloid,’ said the doctor,
“‘Good enough,' said Lincoln; ‘I’ve
*- w
-
A G °° D ™ E T0 T ™ LL * PROMISE.
‘Dear John," wrote the v Je, “I am
sorry to say Willie fell 01 of a ywin#
yesterday and disabled tarns f. He will
not be able to use his arms ir a month
—so the doctor says. He is getting
along all right, but it makes him restless
to stay in-doors. When you return from
the city please bring him something he
can amuse himself with.”
“Willie,” said the father, kindly, as he
patted the little boy consolingly have’brought on the
head the next day, “I
you that drum I promised you a year or
twe ago you should have sometime.”
— Chi'ago Tribune.
biddie's break.
. „ . d ? acquired .
0S n ? er new y
‘
T In • f , “ ., tbe ., other da T to “T * be
- ’
a0t at h °“ e ln ca * e “J one ca]led - ?" e
“ m U° n5lble
“Is Mrs.'Blank in?" she asked, when
,, P nP m ref P onse ° . er
^ nrr *!
Xo . maam ," replied Brid t st<milr .
-‘She's not at home: and marl get fo’r
giveness for the awful lie I’m telling ve.”
Whereupon she slammed the door in
the visitor’s face and that was the end of
j t _ Picayune.
OX THE HOME STRETCH.
"Have you done anything for me?”
the condemned man in pitiful tones,
ss l aw Y er entered the cell,
"Yes. indeed, said the legal gentle
man - gleefully.
“Oh. what is it?" demanded the mur
derer. “a pardon?
“No. "
' commutation of sentence?
‘‘2®’"’ m . “«cy . s name what! , ...
1 ha 7 e ?UPCeeded ' Mld the la *7 er ’
-‘m . . , having the day of execution
your
changed from Friday to Monday. Friday
a ° unluck T da T ’ know.-_Jamte.
- -
BM , *’
A COLLEGE TRAtXDfB.
Young Wife—“Why, dear, you were
the stroke oar at college, weren’t you!”
Young Husband—"Yes, love.
“And a very prominent member of the
gymnastic class!
“I was the leader.”
‘And quite a hand at all athletic exer
rises!"
•‘Quite a hand? My gracious! I was
the champion walker, the best runner,
, the head man at lifting heavy weights,
and as for carrying—why. I could
shoulder a barrel of flour and—”
' ov e ’ ju5t P^ase earry the baby
couple of , hours. I bred. Phila
a m
1,7 rPM '
K1LLIXG THEM OFF.
When a stranger makes his appearanee
iu the baekwoods of Maine he is naturally
: presumed to be on the lookout for game.
Last summer a distinguished prelate of
the Episcopal church found himself
r stranded in a small village in that region,
and was compelled to put up at a farm
house.
“Do you have many Episcopalians
down here!” he inquired of the very
hospitable hostess.
“Well, really now, I don't know,” she
answered, “Our hired man shot some
' sort of critter down bact«f the
a queer
barn the other day, but he claimed it was
a woodchuck.”—Boston Herald.
THE TRAMPS WERE CTXXIXG.
Some eight or ten tramps were re
cently beating a passage from Pittsburg
! east on a freight line. The conductor
ordered them off, and approaching two
of the fraternity, who fortatteredgar
ments and uncleanliness could be better
imagined than described, the following
ensued:
] Conductor (slight.lvkicking the one)—
! “Well, where are you going?”
First Tramp (tearfully) — “I’m going to
New York. My mother’s dead.”
Conductor (benignly stirred)—“If that
>* the case you may remain.”
Then turning to tramp No. 2, lie in
quired: “And where are you going?”
Second Tramp (ostensibly weeping)—
“I’m going to the funeral.”
They did not reach their destination on
that train .—Philadelphia Press.
nothing happened.
iShe had just returned from Europe,
j and was telling about the trip of a party
when an 0 i d bald-head inquired:
"See any whales going or coming?”
"No.”
"See any sharks?”
“No.”
“See any icebergs?”
“No.”
“Pass any wrecks?”
“No.”
“Rescue any castaways?’
“No.”
“Very stormv!”
“No.”
“Fire or fever break out aboard—run
short of fuel or provisions—meet with
any accident to create alarm!”
“No—nothing.” bj
“Humph!” Why didn’t you Frets, go
ox-cart, madam?"— Detroit Free
Subscription: $1.25 io Ad ranee.
A SOW.
1 bird soared up in tim (an *f th««cm—
Oh, but tbe bird mng gloriously >—
tfith throb of bosom and flutter of Nvfng,
ji the rich ripe glow of a day in apring
^VTien the bursting of blossom h ad Juat be*
Snn,
And the green cm the hilWde wai fair to
see.
A bird soaped up in the face of the euz>—
Oh, but his song wag a thing to hear!—
With heart attuned to a wild desire,
With the quiver of passion and puls* of firq,
And the bound of a soul that had well-nigh
won
The first of the golden outworks there.
4 bird soared up in the face of th# im,
And I watched his flight with a straining
eye;
But if he descended I cannot tell;
1 marked alone how hk music fell,
lUHthe last faint throb of the song was done;
Or lost in the space of the pillarleae iky.
— William Higgs, in Youth’s Companion.
PITH AND POUT.
Never ask a stereopticon man to give
you his views.
The owner of an exceptionally valuable
building site ought to feel contented with
his lot .—Detroit Free Press.
Tom—“Hello, Dick; what time is it?
Is your watch going?” Dick—“No. it?s
gone .”—Yankee Blade.
The Oklahoma boomers carry their
planting tools with them—the rifle, the
bowie and the revolver .—Elmira Gazette.
Lives of cowboys all remind u*
If on earth we wish to stop,
We should leave them far behind us.
Or arrange to get the drop.
Timorous Old Lady—“How can I tell
which is the shady side of the cart”
Gruff Old Gentlemen—“By giving the
porter half a dollar .”—Detroit Free Press.
“.Jack must be learnings great deal,”
said the fond mother; “his college bill js
very high this month.” “Yes,” said
the old man, as he filled out a check;
“experience is a dear, teacher.”— Bazar.
Citizen—“Don't you known, Ah Sin,
that if you kill that enemy of yours you
will be hanged?” Ah Sin (vengeful
laundryman)—“No, I allee lightee. I
gottee money. I go loonee ’sylum.”—
Philadelphia Record.
Diner-Out—“Waiter, how is this? I
have just discovered a collar button in
my soup.” Waiter—‘Wes, sah—you’s de
lucky man. We has prize soup on Mon¬
days an’ Wednesday. A hamsome gift
in every twentieth plate, sah ,”—Once a
Week.
“Well, how did you enjoy yourself in
the Art Exhibition?” “Oh, splendidly!
I looked at nobody's pictures but yours!
You see there were always so many people
standing before the other pictures, and
there was always plenty of room by
yours. ”—Fliegende Blaetter.
Miss Lakeside—“Now, my dear, you
must come and spend a month or two ef
the fall with us in Chicago.” Miss Emer¬
son (of Boston)—“You really think it
would be pleasant!” Miss Lakesid
“Immense. We would have a regular
hog-killing time.”’— Epoch.
Mrs. Bascom—“Cousin Nancy write*
to ask how we like the ‘timbre’ of our
new piano! One would think a big girl
like her ought th know how to spell tim¬
ber.” Mr. Bascom—“I should say so!
Well, you can tell her it’s rosewood, and
we like it first rate .”—Burlington Free
Press.
Servant—“Is the doctor at home?”
Doctor—“I am the doctor.” “You
are wanted at 444 North Twelfth
street. Mr. De Mills is very
sick.” “Wait a moment, please, un¬
til I look up this new patient in Brad
street’s.” (A moment later) “I am sorry,
my girl, but I cannot go with you. I
have a very important call to make.”—
Time.
M. Bertin. one of M. Chevreul’s pupils,
.•xcused his absence from lectures by the
death of his father. “My heartfelt sym¬
pathy,” replied the old savant. A fort
sight later, M. Bertin is absent again.
This time his excuse is that he has lost
ais mother-in-law. “You are very care¬
less, young man!” answers his master;
‘‘you are always losing something or
jther.”
A broom is not a watch, and yet it is
sotorious that broomstick. This flippant
’ancy may be developed in many ways;
■hus one may insist that fiddles tick; that
rou can make a bed tick; that a tact
ticks; that some sheep tick, and even
that gum, alas! ticks. But,after all,how
poor a thing is man. even in his highest
lights of inherent imbecility! Even Max
svelton’s brays are not always bonny.—
Commercial Advertiser.
The Dearest Book in the World.
The Paris Bulletin de Flmprimerie con¬
tains the following query. Which I think
likely to interest your readers: “What
was the highest price ever given for any
book? We leave this question to be de¬
rided by competent authorities among
book lovers. We may, however, venture
to say that we know of one for which a
sum of 250,000 francs (§50,000) was paid
by its present owner, the German Govern¬
ment. That book is a missal, formerly
given by Pope Leo X. to King Henry
VIII, of England, along with a parchment
conferring on that sovereign the right oi
assuming the title of ‘Defender of the
Faith,’ borne ever since by English Kings.
Charles II. made a present of the missa! .
to the ancestor of the famous Duke o!
Hamilton, whose extensive and valuablt
library was sold some years ago b.
Messrs. Sotheby, Wilkinson & Hodge ol
London. The book whieh secured the
highest offer was a Hebrew Bible, in the
possession of the Vatican. Iu 1512 the
Jews of Venice proposed to Pope Julius
II. to buy the Bible, and to pay for it its
weight in gold. It was so heavy that it
required two men to carry it. Indeed, it
weighed 325 pounds, thus representing
the value of half a million of francs,
($100,000.) Though beingmuch pressed
for money, in order to keep up the ‘Holy
League’ against King Louis XII,of France,
Julius n. declined to part with the
volume. ’ ’— London Bookseller.