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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
__A* •
VOLUME VII. NUMBER 42.
Under the sceptre of the Ctar of Run
sin live thirty-eight different nationalities,
each speaking its own language, which is
foreign to all others.
According to the Prairie Farmer “the
Farmers’ Alliance is actively at work in
the West and South fighting obnoxious
trusts and other monopolies."
! The New York Herald states that “
race
and religious prejudices are making po¬
litical conditions in Canada that appear
,tp threaten the disruption or the Domin.
ion.”
The Chilian Government has engaged
many railway engineers from this coun
try for the building of its new roads_
some 2500 miles in length—from coast
Ifities to the'interior parts.
A project is being considered for add¬
ing 250, CfOO acres to the Irrigated area in
« Egypt, tho water being taken from a
point so high up on the Nile that the
canals shall never run dry.
f 9 ___*L_*_ f-'
The Prince of Thum and Taxis has
taken iris place among the comparatively
limited number of royal patentees. This
enterprising potentate has invented yet
dfiothqr method of making paper.
Miss E. A. Southworth, who has beer
made assistant mycologist at Washington,
is said to be the first woman to receive at
appointment to a scientific post at Wash
iugto&. Her specialty is fungoid growths.
As a Ncw^S*: k ]Yorld correspondent,
looking from the vantage ground of the
Isthmus of Panama itself, sums it up
that 20, OOjJJivqs and $200,000,000 have
been thrown away on the grand DeLes
seps fiasco.
Jerusalem seems now to be a rapidly
growing cify. This is due to the great
number of Jews who are flocking there
yearly. They now number 30,000 more
than the Moslem and Christian population
.combing.
The reduction of the death rate for
England and Wales from 20.5 to 18.8,
which lias been effected between 1881 and
1887- by the progress of sanitary science,
means a saving per annum of $38,175,
,0(10.4 WhiSj it seems, is the money worth
of that amount of human life, at an aver¬
age value of §795 per life.
1 The year 1889 is the fiftieth anniversary
of the establishment of the penny post in
England. It was in 1839 that a com¬
mittee of the House of Commons reported
favorably upon Sir Rowland Hill’s
scheme for the establishment of cheap
postage. The bill received a majority of
100 votes and became a law on August
17, 1839.
The death of Mrs. Hayes leaves but
five women living whose husbands were
at any time Presidents of the United
States. These are Mrs. Tyler,Mrs. Polk,
Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Garfield and Mrs. Cleve¬
land. There are two other women still
alive who also acted as mistresses of the
Presidential mansion—Mrs. Harriet Lana
Johnson and Mrs. McElroy.
The English company who are work¬
ing the Nacoochee mine in Georgia took
out the other day a nugget of gold weigh¬
ing 1300 pennyweights, and valued at
$2500. Not long ago they took one nug¬
get that weighed thirty pennyweights,
and another of 507 pennyweights. Such
finds as these, muses the New York Sun,
are calculated to make a fellow feel rich
streaks run up and down his back.
1 The determination of the Argentine
Government to withdraw its fractional
paper currency from circulation and to
replace it with an equal amount of coin
will open the way, announces the New
York Mail and Express, for the resump¬
tion of specie payments, and thus do
much to relieve the fevered and un¬
healthy condition of financial affairs in
the cMef and most rapidly growing re¬
public of South America.
• The Oriental Congress which is to take
place in Stockholm, in September, will be
of unusual interest. Five hundred foreign
members have announced their intention
to take part in the proceedings. Deputa¬
tions, single members from Persia, Arabia,
India, Egypt, Japan, China, etc., will at¬
tend, and many renowned savants, of the
far East are expected, King Oscar is
honorary President. Several fetes will
be given in honor of the strangers.
he ueimau ,, _ Empire does not its
pay
high employes on an extravigant scale. j
Prince Bismarck receives $13,500 a year
and a residence. The Foreign Secretary
gets $12,500 including free quarters. The
State Secretary «f»9000 including free j
quarters. The State Secretary of the :
Imperial Court of Justice, $6000, and '
a
bouse. The State Secretary of tho Im- i
penal . Treasury, fcoOOO and , a , house. The |
State Postmaster-General, $6000 and n j
house. Tho Minister ratie^f of Wajp^9000 j j
with a house, fuel and W eight
and ,h. Cliief «t
19000 with a house. I
DEVOTED TO THE INTEREST OP LINCOLN COUNTY.
UP AND DOWN.
We’re up to-day on fortune’s hill i
And free from every sorrow, * \
But in the wheel of good and ill
All may be changed to-morrow.
We’re up and down as time flies On¬
Now oase, now hardest labor—
No millionaire can safely frown
Upon his lowly neighbor.
Riches take wings—the man of wealth
May meet with sudden losses,
While he whose only store is health
May ride behind his horses.
Then do not slight the toiling poor,
For labor ne’er disgraces,
And though your fortune seems secure
Some day you may change places.
God help us all—we’re poor at best—
Dependent on each other—
Though crowned with ease or sore dis¬
tressed
Weak man Is still man's brother.
Then when on fortune’s top we stand,
No ill our state attending,
Let us extend a helping hand
To those about descending.
—Francis S. Smith , in New York Weekly.
THE LAST HOUB.
BY DAVID KER.
behold “Now, Miss Maynard, you’re going to
a wonder. Ashley Melincourt’s
to join us to-night, and you’ll meet a
who has -
man traveled all over the world
without learning to drink or smoke, and
has never gambled or made love in his
life! You must hide your literajy fame
under a bushel now, for he detests re¬
viewers.”
Time, three o’clock on a fine summer
afternoon; place, the veranda of a quaint
little hotel in one of the most pictur¬
esquely old-fashioned of Breton coast
towns; subject, the addition of a new
member to the pleasant little American
party already located there.
‘ ‘Well, I’m glad the catalogue of Mr.
Melincourt’s perfections has one flaw in
it,” says the young lady, with a curl of
her pretty lip which many of her admir¬
ers kmow to their cost. “Of course its a
dreadful sacrilege for any lady to meddle
with literature; but I must be content to
risk his displeasure, terrible as it may be.
After all, it will be less insufferable than
the stories of how many tigers he shot in
India, and how many days he went with¬
out food in the desert, and the fever he
had in China, and the dinner tho Ameer
gave him at Cabul. I suppose some critic
has told mm the truth on that score, and
hence his enmity to them.”
No; there s just the mystery—they’ve
always spoken well of him hitherto if and
as for talking of his travels, that’$®xact
ly what one can never get hir. tp do.,
However, when six o’clock comes, you’ll
be able to-^adge for yourself.” ' **
Six o clock came, and with it the ex
pected guest—a short, square, bearded.
sunburned man, with tho grave, self
contained look of one accustomed to face,
unaided, every form of difficulty and dan
ger. He spoke little and seemed to follow
the conversation with a quiet, attentive
vigilance indescribably provoking to
Laura Maynard, because, as she after
wards said, it was “just like a school
teacher watching for somebody to make a
mistake.”
Dinner over, there was a general move¬
ment to the veranda, to watch the moon
rise over the sea; and the influence of the
hour gave a romantic and semi-mystical
cast to the talk which at length turned to
the transmigration of souls.
“It’s a pity such a thing cannot be,”
said Melincourt. “Just think of tho ad¬
mirable changes we should behold! Our
custom-house officers should haunt every
haroor as sharks; our policemen prowl in
the darkness as wolves; our bankers suck
their neighbors’ blood in the form of
leeches; our politicians chatter and grim¬
ace in that of monkeys; and our critics
transformed to frogs, croak, amid con
genial slime, against everything higher
and better than themselves.”
“You don’t favor the critics, I see, Mr.
Melincourt,” said Laura, flushing with
indignation.
hired “No; bravos I look at them as they are—the
of literature, ready to take
pay on either side, and to stab friend or
foe as their master bids them; infallible
because never owning a mistake; free
from bias, since they never read the boobs
which they review; showing their learn¬
ing^ billingsgate; misquotation; and their their refinement by
themselves modesty by setting
up as authorities upon sub¬
jects of which they know nothing.”
The titter which followed this UI2
conscious home-thrust kindled Laura
Maynard’s warm blood into a flame.
“Mr. Melincourt,” cried she, wrath
fully, “you are giving us an excellent
illustration of the danger of ‘setting up
as an authority upon a subject of which
you know nothing.’ I think I may
claim to know more about critics than
you, for I happen to be one myself!”
Melincourt answered only by a bow
and an ironical smile, more galling than
the bitterest sarcasm, as he arose from
Ms place and sauntered away.
The three following days were so com¬
pletely taken up with excursions into the
surrounding country, that the quarrel had
no chance of proceeding any farther;
but on the fourth morning, the reaction
consequent upon these energetic amuse¬
ments began to show itself in a ranging
of chairs along the veranda of the hotel,
»nd a general production of Tauchnitz
novels. Miss Maynard—who, sensitive,
like all clever women, felt tho mere
presence of a person whom she disliked
intolerably burdensome—gave the go-by
to this impromptu reading-club, and set
wWch on !l solitary stroll along the sands
tho retreating tide had left bare,
» TjSi C,“
been hard to find u more charming walk,
On one side lay the blue, sparkling sea;
on tho ot ! ler > the long, dark outline of
and therewith dappled every here and
waving tiny white cottages
green, woods. Between the two,
smooth as a marble terrace, extended the
vas ^ l evo * hard, white sand. Far
“ay to.the right, cradled in a deep hoi
tiled roofs and quaintly carved church-
LINCOLNTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, AUGUST 23, 1889.
tower of the little town; and over all the
golden sunshine and the warm, dreamy,
southern sky.
Little by little, as she left the inhabited
region behind her, the grand repose of
the landscape soothed the girl’s ruffled
feelings, while its beauty pleased her
artistic eye. She felt once more, as she
had done many a time already, that the
strongest armor against the petty worries
and vexations of life is to withdraw from
them for a time into the great sanctuary
of nature, in whose presence all earth’s
troubles look mean and trivial.
How long she stood there, drinking in
the splendor of that wonderful panorama,
she could never have told; but suddenly
she noticed, with a start, that the sand
was growing wet and oozy under her feet.
She turned, and was dismayed to find her¬
self completely surrounded by water.
The rising tide, pouring through the
lower levels of the beach behind her, had
actually cut her ofE from the shore!
Instantly a thousand tales of treacher¬
ous quicksands, of furious spring-tides,
of children and even grown men swal¬
lowed up before the very eyes of their
friends, came crowding upon her memory.
And even while she looked, the sand be¬
neath her feet vanished, and all was
water, water,.water, rising higher and
higher every moment.
Suddenly, as she stood motionless, and
paralyzed with terror, a tall figure ap¬
peared at her side, a strong hand grasped
hers, and Ashley Melincourt’s voice
shouted in her ear: “Run, run!—there’s
not a moment to losol Hold fast by me,
and run for your life 1”
It was a race for life, indeed. Fast as
they fled, the hoarse roar of the pursuing
tide came closer and closer behind them.
Could they but reach yonder projecting
headland they would be safe; but how ter¬
ribly distant it seemed! And, long be¬
fore they reached it, the sea was upon
them in earnest, almost dashing the girl
from her feet. Melincourt snatched her
up in his arms and plunged desperately
on, breast deep amid the forming waves.
Deeper and deeper grew the water,
stronger and stronger pressed the current.
Twice he all but fell, where to fall was to
rise no more; but at length, by a super¬
human effort, the rock was gained, and,
laying his charge gently upon a broad,
flat ledge, he sank gasping beside her.
“How can I ever thank you, Mr. Mel¬
incourt?” faltered Laura, as she regained
her breath.
“Time enough for that yet?” answered
Ashley, with an affected gayety which he
was very far from feeling. “The first
thing to be done is to get a safe place,
for the tide will soon overtake us here.”
Wet and exhausted as they both were,
that upward struggle over the slippery
.tacks, thickly coated with sea-weed, was
a long and perilous task; but the roar of
the advancing tide from below spurred
them on, and the top was reached at last,
Then a wild cry burst from Laura’s lips,
when even her iron-nerved companion re¬
coiled in dismay. They were standing
upon an island!
There was no room for doubt; one
glance made the whole truth terribly
clear. Their sheltering crag was but an
isolated fragment of the main cliff, di¬
vided from it by a hideous chasm nearly
thirty feet in width, through which the
waves were already had leaping high and
fiercely. They escaped sudden de¬
struction only to feel the lingering agony
of being devoured inch by inch; for
moment's inspection showed them that
every flood-tide covered the rock to the
summit,
“It seems hard to die so soon!” mur¬
mured the girl, piteously.
“Hard for you,” said her companion,
simply. “No one will care when I am
gone.”
And then both were silent; but their
hands met, and did not part again. Cut
off from the living world by fast-ap¬
proaching death, they felt the need of
clinging to something in that grim isola¬
tion of the grave. Parted in life, they
were drawn together as life ebbed away.
All at once Laura uttered a wild cry—
the cry of a sudden revulsion of hope, fol¬
lowing up utter despair.
“A boat! a boat! Wo may be saved
yet!”
“Thank God!” ejaculated Melincourt,
fervently, as the flitting sail caught his
eye.
Distantly his powerful voice was up¬
lifted in a shout that made the air ring.
Twice the hail seemed unheeded, and
their hearts died within them; but the
third time came a faint answering shout,
and the boat, veering suddenly, made
straight for the spot where they stood.
Then Laura’s firmness gave way at last,
and she sank helplessly upon her com¬
panion’s sustaining arm.
Half an hour later, they were safe in
the boat; and the sturdy old Breton fish¬
erman, having made the lady comfort¬
able in the stern-sheets, with a spare sail
by way of a cushion, went forward to
the bow (blessings on him for a consider¬
ate old fellow!) and busied himself with
the management of the boat.
“MissMaynard,” said Ashley,-solemnly,
‘ ‘after what we have passed through to¬
day, there can be no reserve between us.
I owe it to you to explain my rudeness
the other day, by showing you that my
hatred of critics and criticism is not
without cause. Two years ago, a dear
friend of mine died very suddenly, and
left his widow almost starving; and, un¬
happily, I was quite unable to help her,
except by writing a book wMch might, I
hoped, yield money enough to, keep her
from absolute want. I had to write it in
a desperate hurry, of course, as my kiud
critics worn good enough to remark; but
still, I think I might have saved the poor
woman if one of those ‘slashing articles’
in the New York Umpire had not ruined
all!”
“The New York Umpire!” echoed
Laura, in a voice so'unlike her own that
it made him start. “What was your
book called?—tell me quick!”
U i Withered Leaves. i ))
Laura uttered a stifled cry, and, burst¬
ing into tears, seized his hand in both her
own.
“Oil, Mr. Melincourt, can you forgive
me? That horrible review—I wrote it l”
Melincourt looked at her in silent
amazement.
“I wrote it,” she repeated, with a
—how could I!—what harm I was doing !
—never! never 1 And to think how I
enjoyed writing it, and read bits of it to
my friends, while all the while— Can
you ever forgive me?”
* * * * * * *
“My wife and I never had but one
quarrel,” said Ashley Melincourt, some
years later; “and that, luckily, was be¬
fore our marriage, over a book of mine
tKit she cut up. She’ll hardly cut up
any more of them now, though, for 1
make her the heroine of every one I
write !”—Frank Leslie's Monthly.
New York’s Street Arabs.
The shrewdness of the average New
York street gamin is remarkable. One
day last week two little boys, neither ot
whom were over fifteen years, evolved
this scheme for turning an honest penny:
They stood in the center of City Hall
Park, with their hats over their eyes,
with upturned faces, and heads nearly
resting into on their backs, looking intently
the blue sky, as if some one of the
heavenly objects was visible. Slowly
but surely a goodly crowd gathered, and
they too, looked. Some asked what the
attraction was, others continued looking,
evidently for the purpose of discovering
something wonderful before asking.
Some said it was Venus, but others said it
wasn’t. But the two boys who caused all
this sensation and anxiety—what of them ?
When fully 100 had collected about the
spot, the young chaps announced that
they would give a circus performance. A
space was cleared for them, which the
crowd surrounded. Others rushed to the
scene, and before the performance
began a crowd had gathered that
would not make a bad showing
in a theatre. The boys gave a
remarkably good entertainment of
tumbling and breakneck maneuvers,
which astonished the audience and pro¬
duced no little applause. At the conclu¬
sion of the “circus performance,” the
boys, hat in hand, collected money
enough to give them both a good time
during the day, and, perhaps, seats at the
theatre that evening.
Another trick came to the writer’s
notice, which, for genuine “smartness,”
is rather noteworthy. 1: may be sur
prising to the City Fathers to know that
seats in the public parks are sold nightly,
yet this is a fact. The little boys start
out eariy in the evening and capture as
many seats as possible. When the young
lovers pass through the park and see a
seat in a quiet and sequestered place,
and find the occupant to be a little
boy, sometimes two in number,
the young mu|' excuses himself to
to his fair companion, and, going
the boy or boys, endeavors to makeabar
gain for the seat, which be is generally
successful in consuming, though never,
it is said, for less than ten cents, and
oftentimes more. As it gets late in the
evening, and the call for seats is not so
great, one can be secured for five cents.
These money-making lads must feel as
depressed at a rainy or disagreeable night
as the bootblack does of a wet day .—Feu
York Star.
The Curfew in New York’s Capital.
There is a custom in Albany, N. Y.,
which has been maintained for two hun¬
dred years, which, I presume, isn’t
known in any other city of its size in the
Union. The curfew tolls promptly, and
to the lialf-eighth of a second, at 9 each
night. The City Hall tower has a deep¬
connected electric wire
with Dudley Observatory, and it strikes
a stroke ot one at 9 o’clock night and
morning. A11 the private clocks and
watches are set by it, and it is a curious
revelation to the theatrical companies
that visit there to see nearly everybody in
the audience pull out his or her watch at
apparently a preconcerted moment and
look at it. The effect is very novel. It
nearly upset John McCullough and Mary
Anderson when they played there to¬
gether some years ago. McCullough had
just seen the air-drawn dagger, and he
thought the audience were going to ring
the chestnut bells on him. The effect is
also very funny in the churches. But
the same bell also tolls the fire alarm,
and, by numbers of strokes, signals the
district where the fire is. It is customary
on these occasions for the good pastors to
remark: 1 ‘If any one feels called by that
warning, there will be no objection to his
now withdrawing,” and there have been
occasions when a number do so .—New
York Star.
Treatwent of Cold in the Head.
There are a number of ways of abort¬
ing a cold in the head, but most of them
are by the means of quite powerful drugs,
which a person unfamiliar with their use
is never justified in taking on his own re¬
sponsibility. The Swiss method of
treatment is one of the simplest and most
efficacious. It is applied in this way:
Half fill a jug with boiling water, and
into that put a teaspoonful of well pow¬
dered camphor. Fashion out of writing
paper a funnel, with wMch cap the top
of the jug. The camphorated steam
should be inhaled through the nose for
ten or fifteen minutes, the inhalation be¬
ing repeated, if required, every four or
five hours. inhalation If, in spjje is of its unpleasant¬
ness, the repetitions persisted in, it is
said that three will always ef¬
fect a cure, however severe the “cold in
the head” may be .”—New York Star.
Somc Very Large Boards.
A lumber-pile made of boards,each 10C
feet long and six feet in width, would be
gentleman' an unprecedented sight in the East, but a
recently returned from a visit
to the coast of the.north Pacific Ocean
says that piles of lumber such as that are
common at the mills on Puget Sound.
“Boards 100 feet long and six feet wide,
without a knot in them,” he said, “are
common cuts from the gigantic fir trees
of the Puget Sound forests. These trees
grow to the enormous height of 250 feet,
and the forests are so vast that, although
the saw-mills have been ripping 500,000 r
000 feet of lumber out of them every year
for ten years, the spaces made by these
tremendous inroads seem no more than
garden patches.”— Detroit News.
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM.
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Marriage With Him Was a Failure—,
An Early Crop—Our Next-Door
Neighbors—A Little Too
Far, Etc., Etc. >
He began with the first of the season,
But each in turn said “no;”
Though He studied, every form of the question
to make it go.
And this is the answer he’ll give you,
When you ask the popular “quiz,”
“I don’t know ls marriage a failure.
But I know that my getting there is.”
—Detroit Free Frees.
AN EARLY CROP.
Neighbor—“Well, Giggins, what are
you raising?”
Amateur Gardener (sadly)—“Blisters.”
— Life.
OUR NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBORS.
Grace—“And yet, dear, how little we
have seen of each other lately—consider¬
ing there is only a partition-wall between
us!”
Emily—“But then, dear, it is such a
comfort to feel that you are on the other
side!”— Punch.
A LITTLE TOO FAR.
Mrs. Weary (reading)—“The body of
a book agent was found on Blank street
this morning. He had evidently been
murdered.”
Mr. Blank (meditatively)—“Um—er—
really, now, I think that was going most
too far .”—New York Weekly.
A BUSINESS YOUNG WOMAN.
“Harry to the door, Mary, and let Mr.
Smith in. He has rung twice.”
“That isn’t Mr. Smith; it is the other
young gentleman.’’
“Well, wait a minute, then. I must
change the photographs on the mantle.”
THE EIGHTH WONDER.
Gus—“Frank is an original man—”
Joe—“How so?”
Gus—“I met him. He was seedy and
I offered to lend him $50.”
Joe—.“Well!”
Gus—“He said $10 would do.”—
Epoch.
A GOOD LITTLE BOY.
“Pa, you wouldn’t care if I gave a
cripple part of the dollar you sent me out
to change?”
“No, my son. Why?”
“Because I gave fifty cents of it to the
one-legged man that sells tickets to the
circus.”— Time.
MISS MINNIE APOLIS’S OPINION.
“The subject of a national flower is
being discussed a great deal now, Miss
Minnie,” remarked a visitor at Minneapo¬
lis to a maiden of that city. “What do
you think about it?”
“Well,” replied Miss Minnie, “I think
papa’s Fancy Winter Wheat Flour rather
takes the biscuit.”
AN ADVANTAGE IN KNOWING FRENCH.
Brown (to Black, who is preparing for
a European trip)—“How do you get on
with your languages, old fellow?”
Black—“Capitally. Why, I’ve got so
now I can think in French.”
Brown—“Well, that’s a blessing, for
it’s more than you could ever do in Eng¬
lish. ”— Time.
REWARD OF INDUSTRY.
Henry—“What makes you look so
gloomy, Dick? AnytMng gone wrong?”
I Dick—“Anything gone wrong? Well,
should say eo. I asked old Giggler for
more pay to-day, and the old skinflint re¬
sponded by taking me into the firm on
equal shares. That means $500 off my
salary if it means a cent .”—Boston Tran¬
script.
THE BI-MEDICINAL SYSTEM.
Wife of a Sick Man (much alarmed)—
“Doctor, by some mistake I gave him a
double dose of the medicine in the No. 1
bottle. Will it have a bad effect?”
Young Physician—“Not necessarily,
madam. Give him a double dose from
the No. 2 bottle. It will act as a sort of
—er—antidote to the other .”—Chicago
Tribune.
A MAN OF PUSH.
Wife—“Sir. Blower, you’ve, always
claimed to be a man of push,-haven’t
you?”
“Husband—“That’s what I claim to
be, dearest, and I'm always ready to
stand by that assertion.”
Wife—“Then what's the matter with
pushing this baby-carriage a little, pre¬
cious?”— Time.
HE KNEW THAT BEFORE.
Husband—“Well, my dear, what did
the magnetic physician say to you?”
Wife—“He says I am a sick woman,
and that my nervous system is not in
equilibrium. Ho says I am too posi¬
tive.”
Husband—“Humph! I could have
told you that and saved a couple of dol¬
lars .”—New York Sun.
HIGn PRICED CLOTHING.
Visitor (to Bobby)—“That’s a beauti
ful new pair of trousers you’ve got,
Bobby.”
Bobby—“Yes; pa said he paid fifteen
dollars for them.”
Visitor—“Isn’t that a big price, Bobby,
to pay for a little boy’s trousers?”
Bobby—“I s’pose so; but he meant
when he bought ’em for himself. ”—
Harper's Bazar.
“called.”
Von Doodlees—“Waggs called me a
fool to-day, don’tchewknaw.”
Van Simpre—“Aw, weally? What did
you do, deaw chawppie?”
Von Doodlees—“Oh, I got even with
Mm. I happened to have me old chest¬
nut-bell in mo pawkket, and I wang it at
him weal liawd, don’tchewknaw.”
Van Simpre—“Baw Jawve! That was
awful good. ” —Judge.
ONLY A SUGGESTION.
Judge (to prisoner, upon whom he Is
think* thmk £ of your mother, Kr i. tenCe sir?” >~“ Do y° a ever
(much affected)—“Ye-<S,
Your H Honor, but she , s dead.”
intend . teroj^thctically)—“I hurt did not
to your feelings. I hope you
win pardon me .
Prisoner (brightening)—“Don’t men
tion it, Your Honor. I hope you will
pardon me.” *
Judge (catching his drift)—“Don’t
mention it ."—Philadelphia Press.
A BRIEF INTERMISSION.
They were seated in the parlor and he
was declaring his love in fervent tones.
All at once she stopped him with an im¬
perious gesture and a look of pain over¬
spread her countenance.
“Wait! wait!” she exclaimed in shert,
sharp tones.
In a moment the sneeze came, and
Heloise, looking tenderly up into his
face, said: “As you were saying, George?”
— Judge.
AN UNDERSTANDING AT LAST.
Old Mr. Widower had been sitting
silently alone with 3Iiss Autumn for
fifteen minutes. Finally he spoke: “Miss
Autumn, you are pretty-”
“Oh, Mr. Widower!”
“You are pret-”
“How can you, Mr. Widower?”
“I started to say you were pretty-”
“Oh, you horrid man, stop!”
“Confound it all, woman,” shouted
Mr. Widower, rising and breaking for
the door. “I wanted to say that you
were pretty near as old as I am. Now,
I think you're twice as old .”—San Fran¬
cisco Examiner.
THE DIFFERENCE.
Small Boy—“Pa, what is the differ¬
ence between a pessimist and and an
optimist?”
Pa—“Wei!, let me see if I can illus¬
trate. You know I am often discour¬
aged, and things don’t look to me as if
they'd ever go right. Well, at such
times I can be said to be a pessimist.
But years ago when I was a young man
everything looked bright and rosy, and
I was always hopeful. Then I was an
optimist. Now, my son. can you under¬
stand the difference between a pessimist
and an optimist?"
Small Boy—“Oh, yes; one is married
and the other isn't .”—New York Weekly.
SAD FATE OF A JOURNALIST.
“You will remember.” said the old
gentleman who had called to see the
editor, “that after my son had taken his
degree of doctor of journalism that I se¬
cured him a position on your paper.”
“Yes,” answered the editor. “Well,”
continued the old maD, “it has been three
weeks since I ha^e heard a word from
him. Is ha still connected with your
paper?” < •! don't know, ” said the Chief,
“but if you will wait till I call in the
city editor HI see.” And that function¬
ary, after consulting his note-book, re¬
marked: “Smithers—George W. Smith
ers. Oh, yes. Why, the first werk he
was here we got him into the idiot
asylum to write the place up and there
appears to be some difficulty in securing
Ms release. ”—Terre Haute Express.
LOGIC IX THE FAMILY CIRCLE.
Husband—“Now, here’s a thing, Nel¬
lie, that I wish to ask your opinion about.
I am reading some items of philosophy
here, and one of these items states that
there is a fool in every family?”
Wife—“Well, you lost $20 at poker
the other night, as you confessed to me?”
H.—“l'es, my dear.”
W.—“And you buy what is called
pools sometimes in the expectation of
a strike?”
II.—“Well, that's a fact, But what
has that to do with there being a fool in
every family?”
W.—“I am coming to it. Now, you
have left your family—the family com¬
posed of your brothers and sisters—you
left your family when you married me.”
H.—‘ -That’s correct.”
W. —“Well, there’s no tool in your
family now.”
Then the husband fell into deep medi¬
tation, while the wife watched him out
of the corner of her eye .—Boston Courier.
explanatory.
As several versions of the incident that
occurred in our office Saturday night are
flying around town and have probably
been telegraphed all over the world, we
deem it but right to give the particulars
as they occurred: We were seated in the
editorial chair, writing a leader on the
European situation, when a rough char
aracter known around town as ‘ ‘Mike the
Slayer” called in. As we never had a
word with the man, we suspected no eiftl.
As a matter of fact, we reached for our
subscription book, supposing, of course,
that he wanted the best weekly in
America for a year. The Slayer then an¬
nounced that he had come'to not
because we had ever done Mm harm, but
because the influence of the press was
driving out the good old times and door cus¬ of
toms. We retreated toward the
our harness department. He pursued us
with a drawn knife. We then felt it our
duty to draw our gun and let six streaks
of daylight through his body, and as he
went down we stepped to the door and
sent a boy for the coroner. It was a clear
case of self defence, and the inquest was
a mere formality. We lament the sad oc
currence, but no one can blame us. Wo
paid his burial expenses, and in another
column will be found his obituary, writ
ten in our best vein, and without regard
to space. No other Arizona editor has
done half as much .—Arizona Kicker, in
Detroit Free Press.
Artificial Silk.
* c “ t has P^eed an
artificial . silk h by the chemical , . treatment
of cellulose. He obtains a thread which
resembles si.k very closely, and is equally
strong and elastic. It is not attacked by
water, cold or warm, nor by the acids
and alkalis moderately concentrated. :
A great drawback to this silk is that it is
extremely inflammable, but it is possible ■ j
that by a change m treatment it may be
rendered less combustible. j i
Subscription: $1.25 in Adyauce.
! SUNSHINE LAND
They came In sight of a lovely shore,
Yellow as gold in the morning LA light;
The sun’s own color at noon it
And it faded not at the tall of night;
Clear weather or cloudy, twa. aui one,
The happy hills seemed bathed with the sun;
Ite secret the sailors could not understand,
J But they called this country Sunshine Land.
I What
was the secret? A simple thing,
I will make you smile when once you know
Touched by the tender finger of spring,
A blossoms were all aglow;
So many, so many, so many and bright.
They covered the hills with a mantle of light;
And the wild bee hummed and the glad breeze
fanned,
Througn the honeyed fields of Sunshine
Land.
If over the sea we two were bound,
What port, dear child, would we choose for
ours?
We would sail, and sail till at last we found
This fairy land of a million flowers.
Yet, darling, we’d find, if at home we stayed,
Of many small joys our pleasures are made,
More near than we think, very close at hand,
Lie the golden fields of Sunshine Land.
—Edith M. Thomas.
PITH AND POINT.
Time is money. Some car conductors
beat time.
It may be difficult to build war-ships,
but it is not so hard to rear-admirals.—
New York Nmes.
The tombstone is about the only thing
that can stand upright and lie on its face
at the same time .—Terre Haute Express.
A Pullman porter is not necessarily
dishonest because he is in the habit of
going through the sleepers .—New York
News.
A tailor being asked if the close of the
year made him sad said yes, until the
clothes of the year are paid for .—Texas
Siftings.
“I love you well,” the stamp exclaimed,
“Dear envelODe so true;
In fact, it’s evident to all
That I am stuck on you.”
—New York Sun.
Mrs. Jones—“Your baby is very small
for its age, don’t you think?” Mrs.
Brown—“Yes, the poor darling was fed
on milk which was condensed—that’s
why the baby is so too.”
Clerk—“Mr. Daybook, I would like
leave of absence this afternoon to attend
the funeral of a cousin.” Mr. Daybook
(next morning)—“What was the score,
John ?”—New York Sun.
A St. Louis paper declares that no man
who claims to be a gentleman, will re¬
verse his cuffs. We are waiting patient¬
ly to see how Chicago will get even for
this cruel thrust .—Minneapolis Tribune.
Here is the reason Wagner's scores
Folks Are Handel made a it nuisance'whonpin’; though
as it was
A wood-pile they were Chopin.
Mrs. Gabble—“What an awfully wor
ried, anxious,despairing look Mrs. Good
soul has.” Mrs. Dabble—“Yes, I guess
she’s stopped doing her own work and
gone to keeping a girl .”—New York
Weekly.
Of the size of her hand you may judge by
her glove;
For there is needed no art;
But you never can judge the depth of the
love
Of a maid by the sighs of her heart.
“Well, sir, what are your prospects?
My daughter cant’t marry a beggar.” “I
expect to come into a large fortune, sir.”
“Inherited from whom?” “Inherited
from my—er-r—that is to say, from my
father-in-law. ”— Time.
Heaviest Corpse on Earth.
Elmira, N. Y., recently had one of the
heaviest corpses ever heard of in that of
John L. Lawes, who carried 640 pounds
of human flesh over to the majority. Mr.
Lawes was a very fat man.
Lawes was years of age. It
only within the past three years that he
has acquired this mountain of flesh. He
used to be a blacksmith, and was a slight,
delicate thing of two or three hundred
pounds. Then he began to gain from five
to ten pounds every week, until he had
programed to a dime museum magnitude.
His appetite increased with his avoirdu¬
pois. Two or three pounds of beefsteak
was the merest “snack” to him. Toward
the end of his life he spent most of his
time eating. he could
He got so fat that of late
neither lie down nor walk, and he re¬
quired Under constant circumstances attendance. would
the it seem
as if death must have been a relief.
Still, the huge man was of the happiest,
best natured disposition in the his world.
He positively enjoyed showing beholders. im¬
mense proportions to adminng
—New York World.
Americans Becoming Dark-haired and
Bine-eyed.
M. Topinard has been making a statis¬
tical inquiry into the colors of the eyes
and hair is France, and from his 1S0,
000 observations he deduces many inter¬
esting results, one of the most curious
being that where the race is formed from
a mixture of blondes and brunettes the
hereditary blonde color conies out in the
eyes, and the brunette element reappears
in the hair. To this tendency probably
is to be attributed the rarity of a combi¬
nation of light hair with dark eyes. Sev¬
eral observers have asserted that the
American people, who are pre-eminently
a mixed race, are becoming a dark
haired and blue-eyed nation, and if this
be true such a development must be ow¬
ing to the working of the law formulated
by M. Topinard.
Seeing Under Water.
A lens for seeing when under water is
which fs'bot^astoniThMg^d
delightful, ” jt gives distinct vision of
objc cta twenty or tMrty f eet off, the
. g j oss 0 f extended sight when under
^ a t e r being because an entirely different
f ocus j s required. The spectacles which
p rov i ( je this can by made by putting two
watch & _ glasles of three-quarters of an inch
diame and an inch radius back to
back orwith the C0aC avitie S outward,
,