Newspaper Page Text
THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
VOLUME VII. NUMBER 50.
The New York Tribune sarcastically
suggests the “Elixir of Life” as a substi¬
tute for capital punishment.
I -Nearly two hundred thousand people
in the United States are to-day wearing
artificial limbs. This at least is the cs
i timate given by a prominent maker of
1 these articles.
-
: freight
* The ocean of this country for
Hib last fiscal year amounted to $200 r
' 000,000, and foreign ships carried all but
$20,1)00,000 of it. The latter, carried
by ships of our own, was mostly coasting
“Fine thing!” remarks the Cin¬
cinnati Enquirer.
-Paris is following the example of Lon¬
don, and is abfSut to build an under¬
ground railway line. The railway will
Vie seven miles long, although only four
. jtiiles of it will Vie completely under
t ground; the rest will go through cuttings
•and by viaducts.
.It is stated that one of the Chicago
limited trains recently attained a speed of
fifty-six miles an hour and maintained it
for a long distance. A writer in The
Railway Age predicts that the present.
< railroad time of twenty-four hours be¬
tween Chicago and New York will be re¬
duced to ten hours.
In England armorial bearings have
long been taxed, and now M. Borie, a
French Boulangist deputy, has introduced
a bill for taxing not only coats-or-arms
but titles of nobility likewise. His no¬
tion is to appfythe money thus obtained
to providing pensions for aged and infirm
agricultural laborers.
A professor of the University of Cali¬
fornia asserts that he has discovered a
process of tanning leather which will
make it almost indestructible. As the
people of the United States expend $300
. 000,000 yearly on shoe leather, this is
highly interesting news; but it is doubt¬
ful if boot and shoe men will rejoice to
know that the product of their factories
can be m^e^o^wcar^indefiuitely.
England and France both promise
harvests better than last yeqr. Germany,
Italy and Spain will have an average •
grain crop. On the other hand, it is re¬
ported that Russia and Hungary will have
little grain to export. India has a small
crop this year, while Australia is'already
importing wheat. Present appearances
indicate a good foreign market for any
surplus breadstuffs the United States may
have out of the bountiful harvests now
promised for 1889.
The hotel men of New York city
formed their association in 1887, largely
to protect themselves from sneak thieves
and “dead beat guests.” President W.
D. Garrison, of the association, says that
in one year before it was formed the pro¬
prietors of the Astor House had to pay
for fourteen gold watches stolen
from guests, But since the or
ganization of the hotel men they have
not suffered any raids from sneak thieves
and Mr. Garrison last year did not have
to pay for a single gold watch.
The great problem in Egypt for a score
of years has been to meet the financial
obligations of the Government. The
New York Independent appears to think
that “the problem at last seems capable of
solution. Annual deficits no longer ap
. pear. Under the close scrutiny and di¬
rection of English officials, the Govern¬
ment is paying its way and redeeming its
debts. Another effect of English con¬
trol, which is at the same time one of the
causes of present prosperity, is the im¬
provement of the irrigation system. To
the traveler this is especially noticeable.
Under it he sees the wheat fields ever
advancing and the desert ever receding.
With peace on the borders and plenty
along the Nile, Egypt is bound to recover
her credit.”
The foreign elements in the population
of New England cities and towns are
growing so rapidly that the native class
is fast losing its preponderance, and, in
some instances, is even being over
shadowed. An article in the Forum
gives some striking figures of this foreign
invasion. The French-Canadiau ele
ment is noticeably large, and pre¬
sents one peculiar problem in the fact
that it carries the Frencli language with
it, and tenaciously adheres to it in the
parochial schools. A recent school re¬
port in Alanchester, N. H., states that
out of two hundred and fifty-eight French
children less' than 5 per cent, could
read the simplest English words. The
French-Canadians in New England are
said now to number half a million souls.
In Alanchester aud Nashua, N. H., and
Lowell, Mass., they constitute one-third
of the population. In Fall River they
have increased in thirty years from one
family to 20,000 persons, This is the
percentage of illiteracy among the lead¬
ing foreign nationalities that are crowding
into Massachusetts: French-Canadians,
81 per cent; Italians, 58; Portuguese, 69.
This is putting a heavy task upon the
assimilating and educating powers Outlie
bid commonwealth.
DEVOTED TO THE INTEREST OF LINCOLN COUNTY.
THE SOUTH WIND.
Over the fields, where the dew was wet,
Over a meadow with daisies set,
Shaking the pearls in the spider’s net,
The soft south wind came stealing.
It was full of the scent of the sweet wild rose;
And it] lingered along, where the streamlet
flows,
Till it made the forget-me-nots’ eyes enclose,
And started the blue-bells pealing.
Under the measureless blue of the sky,
Drifting the silvery cloudlets by,
Drinking the dew-brimmed flower-eups dry,
The warm south wind was blowing.
It was sweet with tho breath of a thousand
springs;
And it sang to the grasses, as ever it sings,
With a sound like the moving of myriad
wings,
Or the whisper of wild flowers growing.
Over the fields, in the evening glow,
Stirring the trees, as the sun sank low,
Swaying the meadow-grass to and fro,
A breeze from the south came creeping.
It rocked the birds in their drowsy nest;
It cradled the blue-eyed grass to rest;
And its good-night kisses were softly pressed
On pale wild roses sleeping.
And only the stars and the fireflies knew
How the south wind murmured the whole
night through,
In scented fields where the clover grew
And soft white mists were breathing.
For it stole away, when the night was spent,
And none could follow the way it went;
But the wild Bowers knew what the wind’s
song meant,
As they waked to its last low breathing.
—Charles B. Going , in St. Nicholas.
HER LAST CARPET.
The clothes-line, stretched from the
June apple-tree to the mulberry-tree, and
on to the great ox-heart cherry-tree in
Mi's. Gideon Huff’s back-yard, had for
several days flaunted strips of bright
green, orange yellow and dark crimson
cotton, newly dyed.
On Monday there appeared several
yards of pale blue, and on Tuesday a
strip of bright red. When Mrs. Huff
hung the last si rip on the line, she
stepped back with her bare, round, red
arms akimbo, nodded her pink sunbon
neted head to and fro in an approving
manner, and said:
“Well, I’ve had good luck with ev’rv
single piece. If I’d made the aniline dye
a leetle mite darker, it’d mebbe looked
better along with the green an’ yeller in
the twisted stripe I callate on having, but
it’ll look mighty purty as tis. I must
git my logwood an’ copperas ready for
the rest of my rags, an’ git ’em all ready
for the rag-sewin’ Friday, for they’ve got
to go to the weaver a-battaday.”
Mrs. Huff’s rag carpets had taken the
first premium at the county fair every
autumn for three years, and she was lay
the J blue er P\^ ribbon ns again and the this five-dollar year to capture nrize
She had a way of getting up “twisted
stripes,” and coloring and warping the
chain, that no one could imitate. Her
neighbors often said that they would
rather have one of Harriet Huff’s striped
rag carpets than a two-ply ingrain. She
made a great point of having her rags
cut very fine, and sometimes lay awake at
night planning something new in the
way of “hit-an’-miss fillin’.”
“She cuts up our duds fer carpet rags
’fore we’ve half worn’em out,” said Mr.
Gideon Huff, a little irritably. “When
a woman gits to makin’ rag carpets, a
man’s red flannins ain’t safe a minute,
unless he puts ’em in the bank in his
own name, an’ my blue overalls gin’rally
go into a ball of carpet rags ’fore I’ve
wore ’em a dozen times.”
The carpet Mrs. Huff was now making
was to eclipse all of her former efforts,
She had actually dreamed of something
new in twisted stripes, and had risen in
the middle of the night to make fast and
safe the dream-sent idea by winding the
colors in the right order around a strip
of pasteboard. Then she went back to
bed, saying to herseif:
“Now if I could only dream of some
thingnew in fillin’!”
But such a dream did not come,
though she was a great dreamer, and
stoutly maintained, that she often
“dreamed out things,” and that her
dreams came true. Being thus a firm be
liever in dreams, she occasionally even
invited dreams by overloading her stom¬
ach at night.
“If I eat an ordinary light supper,”
she said, “I don’t dream much; but if I
eat pickles and cheese and cake,and a lot
of stuff of that kind, I dream a sight,”
which was no doubt true.
She “made a rag-sewin’” that week
to finish up her hit-and-miss rags, but
the rags for that wonderful stripe were
all to be sewed with her own hands.
Eight or ten of her neighbors came to
the “rag-sewin’.” Each of them brought
her needle and thimble, and sewed car
pet rags and laughed and gossiped in the
most agreeable way all the afternoon, and
in the evening their husbands came to
supper.
Not even to these ladies did Mrs. Huff
disclose the pattern of her “dreamed
out” stripe, although she informed them
that they could confidently expect to see
such a rag carpet as they’d never before
seen, when the fair opened two weeks
later. „
Her household duties occupied her time
more than usual at that season of the
year, so that she could sew only at night,
and each night she sat up until very late
sewing on the green and crimson and
yellow and blue and black and white rags
for the stripe in her carpet.
It was after midnight on Friday when
the last ball was sewed and wound and
weighed, and ready to goto the weaver's
on the morrow.
“The stripe can’t be improved on I jest
know,” said Mrs. Huff,as she put the rags
away in stout grain bags, aud tied them
up. “But I can’t decide just how to
have the colors in the chain warped, or
whether to have the light and dark rags
all mixed up, or sep’rate in the hit-an’
miss. I do wonder if I can’t dream it out
to-night? I’m all tired out, and I dream
best when I’m that way. Mebbe if I
a big piece of gooseberry bed, pie and a
of cheese ’fore I go to I’ll
LINCOLNTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1880.
day of a great poet who wrote half a
poem, and couldn’t finish it to suit him,
and he went to bed and dreamed the other
half all out plain as day, and got up in
his nightgown and finished up. I’m sure
if a person could dream out a fine poem,
I’d ought to be able to dream out a com¬
mon rag carpet pattern.”
Thus reasoning to herself, Mrs. Huff
ate her pie and cheese and went to bed,
and, being very tired, soon dropped
asleep.
She was sleeping heavily when her hus
band called her in the morning. Her
first words when she arose were:
“Well, it didn’t do any good. I
didn’t dream anything about that carpet,
although I did dream of forty other
things. I must hurry up my work, and
have Gideon take me and the rags over
to the Widow Watt's, and see myself
that she understands just how that car¬
pet's got to be wove.”
But when, two hours later, she went
into her little sewing room to get her
rags and chain, they were not to be
found.
“Gideon,” she called to her husband,
who was putting the horses to the light
wagon in the barn-yard, “have you car¬
ried them rags out to the wagon?”
“No,” called back Mr. Huff; “I aint
seen your old rags. I’ll be glad when I
have seen the last of ’em, and you’ve
done a-settin’ up o’ nights a-puddlin’
over ’em, and undermindin’ your consti¬
tution and your health.”
“Well, they aint here,” said Mrs.
Huff, “and I left them here last night,
all ready to be earned out. Hanner, ’ev
you seen them rags?”
‘“No,” replied Hannah, the hired girl,
“I aint seen a solitary thing of ’em.”
“That’s queer,” said Mrs. Huff, irrita¬
bly. “They never tuk legs and walked
off of their own accord. Sam, I don’t
s’pose you’ve seen anything of my rags?”
Sam, the farm hand, happened to pass
the open window at that moment,
“Your rags, Mis’ Huff? What rags?”
“Why, my carpet rags.”
“Didn’t know you had any,” replied
Sam, briefly, as he went unconcernedly
on his way.
Then began an active search for the
rags. Mr. Huff was called in, and so
singular was the disappearance of such
bulky articles, that he joined in the search
with considerable interest,
“It’s the queerest thing!” said Mrs.
Huff, for the fifteenth time, as she looked
into places in which the bags of rags
could not possibly be. “It’s my
opinion,” she said at last, “that some
body lias stolen those l ags. They must
have done it! They never got away
alone; any one with common-sense knows
that.”
No trace of a thief could be found, but
1 one could easily have come and go’lle
without the family knowing it, as the
doors and windows were seldom fastened,
; In fact, some of them had been left wide
' open the night before to admit the cool
omrvf » nmnLj
After an hour of unavailing search
j Mrs. Huff dropped wearily into a chair,
and said, in a choking voice, “Well,
they’re gone, and gone for good, and
so’s my chance of getting the prize at
the fair next week. Somebody must have
stole ’em. I reckon now that Calisty
Horn will get the premium with her car
j pet.”
“Well, well, what if she does?” said
Mr. Huff, consolingly. “You’ve had it
three years hand runnin’, and you’d
ought to give somebody else a chance,
anyhow.”
“They all have just as good
a chance as I’ve had,” replied
Mrs. Huff. “And the premium aint
nothing at all compared to the loss
of that carpet that I had callated sure on
i putting down in the settin’-room this
j fall.”
; The rags were not found in the day3
j that intervened before the fair, and Mrs.
i Calisty Horn’s carpet did get the first
premium.
“And such a looking carpet as it was,”
i said Mrs. Huff, somewhat spitefully,
“The rags was half an inch’ wide, and
j she’d got too much copperas in her color
mg., and tho stripe was nothing to com
pare to what mine would have been.”
Her loss and defeat weighed heavily on
■ Mrs. Huff, and she lay awake a long
j time thinking had the whole matter over
after she gone to bed, when she
came home from the fair.
Sometime after midnight Mr. Huff
awoke to find himself alone in bed, and
: as he opened his eyes he fancied lie saw
some one pass the door leading into the
| hall,
“Harriet,” he called, “is that you?”
There was no reply.
“I wonder,” he said, “if that woman
has got up in the dead of night to begin
on another carpet, She shan't do it!
Harriet, what are you doing? You
sick?”
Still Harriet did not answer, Air.
Huff arose, wrapped a quilt around him,
lighted a candle and started out to in¬
j j he vestigate. heard noise As be stepped of into the moving hall
a as some one
: around in an unused attic room above
him, a room had not been entered for
weeks,-which was now filled with all the
odds and ends of things that will collect in
a house as the years go on, and which a
great many people save, under the im
; j pression, usually a delusion, that they
will sometime “come handy.”
i Among the useless rubbish stowed
1 away in Farmer Huff's attic was the
frame of an old carpet loom on which
Mrs. Huff had woven many a carpet in her
younger days; but years had passed since
, the loom had been in use. The moon¬
light streaming in through a window
j showed opened, Mr. hut Huff there that the attic other door light was
j was no in
j the “Harriet room. Huff!” he cried,
“what in
! creation air you doing up there at this
time o' night? Hunting some more tor
! mented old rags? Come right back to
bed! A r ou'U get your death o' cold
roamin’ round at night!”
j She took no notice of his querulous re
marks, but he heard no more sounds in
the attic. But he was too much troubled
to let the matter rest as it was, and
accordingly mounted the stairs and
entered the attic room. There he saw
something that caused him to open both
At the old loom sat Mrs. Huff in her
night clothes. In one hand she held an
old wooden shuttle, while with the other
she fumbled around in a grain bag full
of carpet rag balls leaning against a p<*t
of the loom. Drawing forth a ball of the
“hit-an’-miss rags she slowly began wind¬
ing it on the shuttle, which she then
passed to and fro through an imaginary
warp. The reed and hat ten bars were
gone, but Mis. Huff went slowly
through the motions of using them.
The amazed Mr. Huff at once noticed
that her eyes were closed, and his belief
that she had become a “stark, staring,
loonytic, changed into the more agreea¬
ble thought that she was simply sound
asleep. His eyes rested on the missing
carpet rags, and he mentally ejaculated:
“Brought 'em up here herself in her
sleep two weeks ago, by Jinks! What's
goin’ to become of her if she goes to
makin’ carpets both when she’s asleep
and awake? Her intelleckshel reason will
give way. That’s what’ll happen to her!
No born woman could stand it, and it'll
be mighty hard on all of us. She shan't
make nary nother carpet! I’ll buy body
bristles for every room in the house, first!
Harriet Diany Huff, wake up and git to
bed where you b’long!”
Mrs. Huff did not waken, and Mr.
Huff hesitated before speaking again:
“They say,” he sain to himself, “that
it ain’t safe to wake up sleep-walkers or
somnambulances suddenly. Mebbe she'd
have a fit if I woke her, though she don’t
come of a fifty family. I’ll just see
what she does.”
A moment later Mrs. Huff slowly left
the loom, and, with eyes still closed, shut
the attic door behind her, walked down
stairs, and returned quietly to her bed.
“It beats all,” said Mr. Huff, as he
quietly lay down beside her, “but she
shan’t meddle with carpet rags no more,
she shan’t!”
In the morning she said while dress¬
ing: “I dreamed ’bout weaving me a
carpet at my old loom last night. I’ve
had sev’ral such dreams lately.”
“Hev?” queried Mr. Hull, dryly.
“That reminds me that I want to show
you something in the old loom room.
Come right up!”
“Wait till after breakfast.”
“No, I’ve got more time now.”
“There you air, Harriet Huff," said
Mr. Huff, dramatically, as he threw open
the attic door, and waved his hands
toward the bag of rags.
“Gideon Huff!” she said, as she sank
down on unsold hair-covered trunk, with
her hands upraised.
“I’d say ‘Gideon Huff’ if I was you,”
he replied; then he went on solemnly,
occasionally shaking his finger toward
her. “Harriet Diany Huff, I ain’t got
much to say to you, but what I do say is
solemn and pertickler, and I mean it.
You’ve made your last rag carpet! Your
intelleckshel reason is givin’ ’way under
the strain of it, to say nothin’ of our
duds bein’ cut up ’fore tLey'm
vut, mni-jw-m n JJy piolclc and stew
over your colorin’ and twisted stripes.
You drug them rags up here in your
sleep, and las’ night I ketched you up
here goin’ through weavin’ motions in
your sleep. Your mental brain powers
is becoming exhausted over carpet tags,
and you’ve got to give ’em up for good
and all, premiums or no premiums.”
So Mrs. Huff, greatly shocked when
told of her performances, did give up all
rag carpet makiug, although the beauti¬
ful twisted stripe of her visions and
dreams became a reality as soon as the
rags could be carried to the Widow
Watts.
Dream-provoking food at midnight
was also wisely given up in obedience to
Mr. Huff’s demand that his wife should
do nothing to impair her “intelleckshel
reason.” ■
This is a true story, and the reader can
draw the moral from it.— Youth's Com¬
panion,
The Snow Plant.
One thing that never fails to interest
all who see it, when it is found on the
mountain heights of the Sierras, is the
snow plant, known to botanists as the
Sarcedes sanguinea, meaning blooded
flesh, says the American Garden. No
flesh or blood could be so exquisitely
beautiful; imagine a rosy and snow
tinted crowned hyacinth, from eight to
twenty inches in height, every miniature
bell wound about by a rosy and frosted
silver ribbon, all topped by a huge head
of asparagus in hoar frost and silver. The
frosted papilla is very marked on every
sepal and bract. Though the whole
translucent spike is flushed with rose
and carmine, the petals are the deepest
and most brilliantly-colored parts of the
flower, which is five parted, apd each
open one showing slightly the stamens
and pistils.
There have been seen specimens
bearing eighty perfect flowers and a
pseudo-bulb twenty-two inches in circum¬
ference, brittle almost as spun glass,
and, although solid as a pineapple when
first dug up, dried away to the size of
the stem. All attempts at cultivation have
thus far failed,the bulbs refusing to stand
transplanting and the seeds to sprout. It
was ouee said that they would not sur¬
vive below the level of the summer snow
line, but they have been since seen almost
covering the ground far below. The
snow banks seem, however, to protect
them from the winds sweeping among
the mountains, aud they make their early
growth and development beneath the
driven snow, and when the approach of
summer leaves the surface of the ground
exposed it is covered in a few days with
the red crowns of the snow plants.
A Colossal Canine.
The Fresno (Cal.) Republican says: The
largest dog in the .State and probably in
the world, for his age, is a great Dane
pup, the property of Colonel William
Forsythe of this county. The dog is of
a tawny color, with a long, lean body
and massive paw’s resembling very much
a California lion, but much larger* He
is only eight months and ten days old,
and measures thirty-two inches from the
grougd to the shoulder.
The Western Union Telegraph Com¬
pany charges the United States Govern¬
ment (patches. oi^ceuhMvord for telegraphic de-
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOKOU8 8KETCHKS FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
The National Flour—No Alternative
— Rather Glad Than Other¬
wise— Johnnie Visits the
Pawnshop, Etc., Etc.
Upon the hill the golden rod.
With royal grace in every nod,
Salutes the sun, as far away
He heralds forth the joyous day.
Dainty in form, with perfume sweet
Arbutus, in some cool retreat.
Expands her many graces rare.
And shuns the daylight’s ruthless glare.
A dainty the jewel modest richly violet: set,
You find
Within some cool and shady grove
It welcomes those who chance to rove.
But, on a crisp and frosty morn.
Who sees the griddle cake with scorn?
Above them all its merit§ tower,
The good old fashioned buckwheat flour.
—Merchant Traveler.
NO ALTERNATIVE.
Giles—“It seems dreadfully extrava¬
gant to go to such an expensive tailor.”
De Jinks—“What could I do? He
was the only one who would trust me.”
— Epoch.
RATHER GLAD THAN OTHERWISE.
Visits of ceremony. A gentleman,
with his card case in hand, rings the
bell.
“Are Mr. and Mrs. B. at home?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well; then I'll call again."—
Judge.
JOHNNIE VISITS THE PAWNSHOP.
Brown—“Where is your diamond
ring, my dear?”
Mrs. Brown—“It is being reset.
Little Johnnie (who had been out
with his mother)—“Does the man al¬
ways give you money, ma, when you take
anything to be repaired?”— Munsey's
Weekly.
THE SAME OLD BEEFSTEAK.
“What's the matter with the beef¬
steak?” asked the landlady.
“I don’t know,” replied the new
boarder; “but I have a horrible suspicion
that the cow was afflicted with general
ossification.”— Washington Capital.
RETRIBUTION FOR A LIAR.
Brown—“It's terrible the way these
coal dealers cheat you. There’s not
more than 1200 in that ton.”
Little Johnnie—“Perhaps, dad, the
coal man weighed it on the same scales as
that twenty-pound fish you caught.”—
Harper's Bazar.
TIME AND COSTS.
A couple when ot jail-birds were drinking
‘-ogether one of them took out his
watch.
“Bless me!” exclaimed his astonished
companion, “you've got a watch?”
“Looks like it.”
“And how much did it cost you?”
“Six months. ”— Tid-BUs.
so SUDDEN.
They were climbing up the mountain
side, and coming to a steep place he
deemed it proper to assist her, and turn¬
ing, said:
“Please give me vour hand?”
“Oh!" she replied, with ablush, “this
is so sudden. You must ask papa.”—
Boston Courier.
THE “GOOD-BYE” INTERMINABLE.
Host—“Don’t go, Mr. Hobson, until
you have heard Ethel sing “Good-bye.”
Mr. Hobson—“Will she begin now?”
Host—“Yes, at once.”
Mr. Hobson—“Well, I’m obliged to
go, but I’ll drop around in an hour or so
and hear the end of the song ."—Rochester
Post-Express.
A LIGHT AND AIRY. PUN.
“Oh, George,” she murmured, “I
know you are strong and will protect me.
yet even now,as we recline in this swing¬
ing hammock, I am surrounded by fear."
“Fear, my darling?” said George de
Romelvy, “what fear can surround vou?"
“Atmosphere!” she chuckled and the
hammock broke down to punish Her.
Lawrence American.
A SERIOUS CASE.
Mrs. Briske—“Johnny, did the doctor
call while I was out?”
Little Johnny (stopping his play)—
“Yes’m. He felt * my pulse i an' looked ’ at " t
my tongue, and shook his head, and said
it was a very serious case, and he left this
prescription and said he’d call again be¬
fore night.”
Airs. Briske—“Gracious me! It wasn’t
you I sent him to see; it was the baby.”
—New York Weekly.
A RISING MAN.
“Now,” said a traveling man, “there
is a rising man over there by the tree
box.”
“Politician?”
“No.”
“Writer?”
“No.”
“What is he?"
“He’s an aeronaut .”—Merchant Trav
eler.
IRREPRESSIBLE BOBBY AGAIN.
Bobby—“I do hope, Clara, that you
and Air. Simpkins will play cards to¬
night; I want to watch you.”
Aliss Clara—“Why, Bobby, I can't
play cards; what put such an idea into
your head?”
Bobby—“Yes, you can; I heard pa tell
ma that you wouldn’t Lave any trouble
about hooking Air. Simpkins if you played
your cards well .”—Kearney Enteiprise,
HOPE CRUSHED TO EARTH.
“I’d like to ask you, sir,” said the
young man in hesitating tongs, “might I
—might I—marry your daughter?”
“Humph,” replied her father. “You
might—” '“Thank '
you, sir.”
“You might; I repeat, but it would bp
of ,the most inexplicable accident*
ever happened in this country.”—
Wash ington Capital.
GAVE SIX TEARS TO HERSELF.
Widow's Daughter—“Mamma, why
did you tell Mrs. Lamode that I am only
eighteen when lam really twenty-four?”
Widow—“Because eighteen is six
years under twenty-four, my dear.”
Daughter—“Yes, I know, but surely
I don't need the benefit of those six years
at my age, do I?”
Widow—“Not at all, my child, but I
do .”—Binghamton Republican.
LOVE DID NOT IMPAIR HIS AFFETITE.
Soldier (to cook)—"Ah. if you only
knew what my emotions are, how I am
drawn to you by an irresistible power—
may I dare confess to you my feelings?”
Cook—‘ ‘Speak it right out, my dear.
you know I have long been fond of you.”
Soldier—“Ah, dear, good angel—but
you mustn’t refuse me.”
Cook—“Don't be afraid—you make
me too happy.” hungry.”—
Soldier—“I—I—am File
qende Blactter.
THE END OF THE SEASON.
Maude—“Algernon, you know a year
ago I told you I would not marry you
until you had saved $10,000.”
Algernon—“Yes, but”—
Maude—“And six months ago I told
you I thought we could get along on
$ 1000 .”
Algernon—“But still”—
Maude—“Well, how much have you
by this time?”
Algernon—“Exactly §36.62.
Maude—“Don't you think that—that
—that is near enough?”— Time.
CLOSED FOR THE NIGHT.
Sharp Parent (at head of stairs)— bed.”
“Clara! It's time for you to go to
Clara (in the parlor)—“Why, pa, Mr.
Greene is here!”
“Oh! I beg pardon. I thought it was
Mr. Brown, and I haven't any patience
with Mr. Brown. He always kisses you
with such loud smacks that it wakes me
up. Stay as long as you please, Mr
Greene. You are always welcome.”
Mr. Greene—“Um!—thank you, but I
was just getting ready to go, and I—I
promised my chum Ed be back eaily.
Good-night !”—Ntus York Weekly.
HOW RUSSIANS MUST LOVE THEIR WIVES.
A Russian gentleman who has an
American wife met some friends of the
latter who were traveling in Europe re¬
cently, and among other things which he
told them concerning her was the fact
that she had been bitten by one of his
bloodhounds, that had started out and
run amuck, so to say, one day upon his
estate. The Americans were filled with
horror and were eager in their inquiries
in regard to what was done and if there
were any evil results from the wound.
“There were no bad consequences at
all,” he assured them. “I took a hot
iron and burned out the wound. It
smelled a little like mutton chops cook¬
ing, but I didn't mind that ."—New York
Mercury.
A LOSING SPECULATION.
Mrs. Chitchat (caller)—“Why-, my
dear Mrs. Starvem. what is the matter?
You look distressed.”
Mrs. Starvem (boarding-house land¬
lady)—“Oh. the awfulest thing has hap¬
pened! You remember Mr. Griggs, who
used to board here at §9 a week, and was
such a comfort to me?”
Mrs. C.—“Yes. You said he had
| : scarcely eat thing. any teeth Didn’t left, cost and could barely to
a any more
. keep than a kitten.”
Mrs. S.—“That's the one. Oh, he's a
i villain! He came back yesterday, and I
let him have board at only §8 a week,
and now I find he's got a new set of
false teeth, and eats like a horse .”—New
York Weekly.
THE ILLUSIVE POCKET.
Yellowlv—“Why, Brownly. how bad
you look this morning. Did you sleep
any last night?”
Brownly—“Not a wink.”
A'—“Anybody sick?”
B.—“lam.”
A'.—“What's the matter?”
Joa see , mv wife basbee n
j ; Q tbe habit ot going through my pock
| j ets good at for night, the and gander I thought good what for was the
was
I goose, so after she fell asleep last night I
arose and set out to go through her
i | pocket.”
Y.—“Get anything?”
; ■ B.—“No. Searched the dress
; and over, spent the whole night at it,
; ’ but couldn't - - • find - - the • pocket .... ."—Boston „ ■
Courier.
Stopping Shot Holes With Cocoanuts.
Investigations have been made by Dr.
Lawson, says a French journal, to testAI.
Barriere’s proposed employment of re¬
fuse cocoanut fiber for the automatic
closing of shot holes. According to
a quantity of the powdered refuse
taken before it. is quite dry and
to a heavy pressure,under which it
a sort of brittle millboard. In his inves¬
tigations Dr. Lawson took a plate of the
substance eighteen inches square and
three-fourths of an inch thick, and, using
it as one side of a watertight box, fired
three shots with a bullet one-half inch in
diameter through it without a singledrop
of water issuing through the bullet holes,
the material closing up automatically be¬
hind the bullet. In another instance a
bullet one inch in diameter was fired
through the material. This was at first
followed by a jet of water, but in no
longer than a few seconds of time the
flow diminished in volume, and in the
course of one minute had completely
ceased.
Inviting Sympathy.
A little fellow, between two and three
years old, was punished for some After misdeed
when his papa was at work. cry
ing savagely for a few moments he ran to
the window, and, looking through his
tears into the street called out: “Papa,
papa, come in aikLscc the baby cry !”—
Toledo Blade,
Subscription: $1.25 is Advance.
UNCALENDARED,
Only a year have thou and I been friends,
If time be counted on our calendar;
Away with that! What it begins, it ends;
From all eternity, close souls we were;
And shall be, so God grant! forevermore,
For two were never faster bound before.
‘‘With God, one day is as a thousand years: 1 *
Oh, Love is mighty, God’s most blessed
name!
The more that man his Maker’s image bears
The more must months and seons be the
same.
Love knows not time—It is eternity,
And not a year, that I count out with thee!
—Charlotte F. Bates , in the Century.
PITH AND POINT.
The matter of a day—Twelve hours.
Speaking about “cotton bagging,” is
it at the knees ?—Pittsburg Chronicle.
A lecture on fruit should always begin
with a pear oration .—Merchant Traveler.
Pat Parses.—Mission Teacher—“Pat,
what part of speech is but?” Pat—
“Bedad, sorr, it’s a rampart o’ spaehe.”
Mv love hath eyes which rival stars,
Her cheeks would shame the rose,
But I must needs confession make—
I do not like her -noes.”
— Epoch.
It is customary for duelists to shake
hands just before a fight and to keep
shaking for some time afterward.— States
man.
“There. I've forgotten my medicine.”
“Well, you want to be careful; first
thing you know vou'U be getting well.”
— Life.
Why am I sad? An awful dread
Haunts me and will not down.
I fear my summer girl will meet,
My other girl —Detroit in town. Free Press.
A railroad In Chicago is so crooked
that the conductor can stand on the real
end of a passenger train going around a
curve and fire *tramps off the baggage
car.
First Newspaper Man—‘ ‘Did you do
any literary work on your vovage across?”
Second Newspaper Man—“Yes, I con¬
tributed extensively to the Atlantic.”—
Peek's Sun.
He was a baseball player.
Who made a lass his bride.
And folks remarked, when they were wed,
‘‘An! now the score is tied.”
—Lawrence American.
Mrs. Gabble (leading a newspaper)—
“In India the women are shut up.” Mr.
Gabble—“They are, eh? I didn't know
that it was possible to shut up a woman
in any country.”— Siftings.
Extra-ordinary.—Smith—“Look here,
Brown, we’ll soon decide the matter;
let's ask the waiter. Waiter, are toma
toes a fruit or a vegetable?” Waiter— hextral”
“Neither, sir. Tomatoesis a
—Funny Folks. •
“I really don’t see what is the matter
with my razor to-day. It is so dull that
it don't cut at all,” said Johnny’s pa.
“Why, pa,” said Johnny, “it was sharp
the other day when I used it to make a
ship with.”— Epoch.
The Heat in Asia.
It is stated in the official report that
702 persons died during a period a Asia, four
days recently, at Bokhaiar&JfiJ'?.*
of heat; and the figures, it is expreSA*"
added, do not include children. If this
amazing calamity be not due to any at¬
mospheric violence, as a B 1 1-i-Simoon,
for example, it is probably unequalled in
authentic records. But when we think
of the agony, the horrible wretchedness
in which the whole population must have
been living, it may well seem that those
who found escape in death are not to be
pitied. The horror of heat is unknown
to us. or indeed to any part of Europe,
though Naples and Athens are desperate¬
ly trying sometimes. But to the native
of Scinde, Central Asia, the shores of the
Persian Gulf, the sun of Greece, is but a
trifle. The utter helplessness of man
under such infliction, adds horror to his
sufferings. There is no hope and no re¬
source when the red hot air penetrates
to those underground chambers in which
the summer is passed in Central Asia.
‘ ‘The inhabitants” we learn, ‘ ‘are shutting
themselves up to escape”—probably clos¬
ing all the apertures of their subterranean
abodes, except those absolutely necessary
for ventilation. The air down below
under such circumstances, cannot be ima¬
gined by one who has not a touch of ex¬
perience. Houses of good class are solid¬
ly constructed underground, with cham¬
bers and doors and corridors; but the
mass of the people inhabit big holes,
roofed over, with no kind of jiermanent
convenience. Every winter the frost and
and snow and rain play mischief with
these rough pits, and the damage is not
always, nor often, repaired by the follow¬
ing summer. Fancy thousands of Mon¬
gols in these dens, pursuing their filthy
habits, in semi-darkness, suffering the
awful torment of heat, children wailing,
adults raving, always in want of watei
and generally of food, in an atmosphere
beyond conceiving. That is the picture
which those few lines of telegram suggest
to readers who'know .—London Stan¬
dard.
A Great Bait for Bats.
An interesting, not to say valuable dis
covery, has been made by Captain Weed¬
ing, in charge of the Zoo. The building
is invested by rats, and how to get rid of
them has long been a perplexing nothing ques¬
tion. Traps were used, but
could tempt the rodents to enter. In a
storeroom drawer was placed a quantity of of
sunflower seeds, used as food for some
the birds. In this drawer the rats gnawed
their way, a fact which led the • Captain
to experiment with them for bait in the
traps. The result was that the rats can’t
keep out. A trap which, appears to be
crowded with six or eight rats is found
some mornings to hold fifteen. They ire
turned into the cages containing' weasels
and minks. The latter will kill a rat
absolutely almost before one can %3<i it, so
rapid are its movejnents. The weasels
are a trifle slower, but not one of the rats
escape them.— -Cincinnati Commercial
Gazette.
bushel* A fanner of wheat at Shelbyyille, from six Ill., raised835^
acres.