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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
VOLUME VII. NUMBER
It is estimated that Uncle Samuel 'will
pay hut* at least $1,600,000 in artificial
legs and arms in 1890.
The railroad companies of the United
States owe $4,600,000,000. Last year the
amount of interest paid by the railroads
of the United States was $207,000,000,
and the amount in dividends $§0,000,
000. If the amount of freight hauled
were all reduced to one mile, ft would
amount to $70,000,000,000 tons of
freight.
Joaquin Miller, who, after he went into
Wall street and lost his little pile, used
to rail at the rich and revile leading New
York capitalists, has become a capitalist
himself. Some years ago he bought 200
acres of land near San Francisco, and now
they have become valuable for town lots.
The poet says that he shall spend the re¬
mainder of his days on the Pacific
slope.
Treasury statistics show that the ex¬
portations of Mexico for the first half of
the fiscal year 1888-9 amounted to $26,-
846,990, indicating a total exportation
for the year of $53,000,000, the largest
ever known in the history of the country.
The exportation of precious metals in?
creased in the half year, as compared
with the previous half year, $1,999,809,
and merchandise exports increased $570,-
263. These facts bear out the statement*
regarding the prosperity of the country,
aud what railways are giving to the de¬
velopment of Mexico.
Rev. J. Crossett, an independent
American missionary recently died in
China, where he had been devoting him¬
self to labor among the benighted. He
had charge of a winter refuge for the
poor at Peking during several winters,
and made it his business to seek out the
sick and unfortunate for the purpose of
affording them relief rather than to
change their faith. He went about in
Chinese costume, and accepted no remu¬
neration for his labors except his enter¬
tainment. He was everywhere welcomed
among the Chinese and was called by
them “the Christian Buddha.”
The inquiry is not infrequently ad¬
dressed to a millionaire, “Why do you
not discontinue business? You have
wealth enough, you need not work any
longer”—and the answer almost invaria¬
bly is, “What shall I do with my idle
hours, if I have no employment?” This
■was the answer that that eminent Chica
goan of brains and wealth, Mr. Philip D.
Armour, made when an English syndicate
offered him. a bonus of $5,000,000 in ad¬
dition to the estimated value of his great
pork and great beef-packing plant. Mr.
Armour doubted if he would find peace
of mind in a plethoric purse and no busi¬
ness.
The extent to which England depends
upon other countries for her food can
only be appreciated when the returns for
a single year are made up. According
to the report of the Board of Trade the
imports during 1888 of wheat, flour,
cornmeal, butter, margarine, cheese, lard,
sugar, yeast and manufactures of tobacco
aggregated the immense sum of $180,
000,000. These are simply the manufac¬
tured food products. Of the raw mate¬
rial no figures are given, but they must
be far in excess of these. A peculiar
feature is the fact that margarine to the
amount, of $17,000,000 is imported,
whickis nearly half the value of the but¬
ter imports. The total value of imported
manufactures of all kinds for the year
was $600,000,000.
Compared with the visit of the late
Emperor William to Alsace-Lorraine, in
1877, the New York Tribune believes
that the present Emperor’s visit was a
phenomenal success. After making
every allowance for official zeal in stirring
the province to enthusiasm, the Emper
or’s reception indicates the remarkable
progress made in harmonizing the prov¬
inces during the last decade. The jour¬
ney from Strasburg to Metz was a trium
phal progress, AU the intermediate
stations were gayly decorated and crowded
with people who cheered the Emperor,
whose tact in the difficult and tempting
circumstances was remarkable. He made
brief replies to the various toasts, etc.,
but said not a word at which the French
could be offended.
The Sf. Louis Globe-Democrat is not
quite sure whether we should “rejoice at
Chinese progress or regret it, for the
waking up of the vast Mongolian masses
means the precipitation of an overplus
upon the Aryan world that we do not
yet know how to deal with. However,
it is certain that China will soon be
practically a modern State. The conser¬
vative element is effectually overcome
and railway construction has been en¬
tered on as a national policy. Peking is
at once to be Joined to Tien Tsin by a
road passing through the most populous
district o! the JSmpire. The radicals or
reformers are at last entirely triumphant,
and China will adopt every means for de
velopment. It will be impossible to
exist on the same planet under a system
of mutual exclusion.”.
DEVOTED TO THE I INTEREST OF LINCOLN COUNTY.
SECRET THOUGHTS.
1 hold it true that thoughts are things
Endowed with being, breath and wing^
And that we send them forth to fill
The world with good results or ill.
That which we call our “secret thought”
Speeds to the eartVsTemotest spot,
And leaves its blessings or its woes
Like tracks behind it, as it goes.
THE TRAMP.
BV MINNIE p. BKIGHAM.
“Do unto others as we would that
they should do to us.”
The short wintry afternoon is drawing
t* a clcse; the wind is chilling, and
there are signs of a snow storm: every
one seems to be housed in the small town
of G-; but just now there may be
seen the figure of a man coming up the
road.
He stops at Fariner Moses’s gate—stops
and looks about as though he were a
stranger in the little town. He wears n
long and shabby overcoat, and a slouched
hat drawn low over his forehead. He
leans against the gate as though very weary,
A small, piping voice, speaking "close to
him, startled him from the reverie into
which he seemed to have fallen. The
small voice issued from the lips of a lit
tie girl of perhaps seven or eight years of
age; and bright a pretty child, with rosy
black eyes, said eyes being in
strong contrast with the bright rings of
hair, which had escaped from beneath
the little red hood.
The child speaks again as the man
turns and looks at her. “Be you awful
tired, sir?” is what she said.
les, lam, little one; but what
makes you think so?” The man’s voice
is strong and kind, ‘if the figure is shab
b y
“Why, . because you act so you was
tired. Why don’t you go home and lay
down and get rested then?”
“Alas 1 I don’t know that I have any
home, child,” he answered slowly, while
the child looked at him in astonishment,
Suddenly a light dawned on the little
face. “Be you a tramp, sir?” she asked,
“Wcll, yes, my dear, I suppose 4 H
might be called a tramp in good faith, -
“Be you hungry, sir?” is the next
question; “if you be, I will get you
something let to cat, and I would
you come in to the
house, and lay down on the lounge, so
you would get rested, but my mamma is
’fraid of tramps. Oh! halloo,' Sarah,”
eries the child at this moment, and the
man turns and looks to see who she is
speaking to, and sees that it is a young
lady approaching. She may be twenty
eight or thirty years of age; a trim, neat
the figure,^ bright but black the features look are sharp, and
t tramp. eyes ‘anything hut
‘“.yP ^ at 01 are le y°u doing here, Flossy?”
asked , the woman. Before the child could
answer, the house-door opened and a man
slipped out; while a woman’s figure was
just discernible behind him in the door
way; then before anyone had time to
utter a word, the child sprangtoher
fathers side, exclaiming, “Oh, papa,
e s so tired and he am t got any home to
lay down in, and I guess he’s hungry
too. She whispered this last to her
father: “I asked him but he didn’t tell
me; Sarah came just then; can’t he come
in and rest and have something & to eat,
papa? » >
“No, no, John,” Mos’es’s said the low timid
voice of John wife, “don’t let him
yr - -*<■*-—
nV&SS’V* polled wT .’ T\ * ^ "a?; f 11 d hi ‘ d
?o SFrJS” vnl Onnba “T V trawp m
“si, “t.r r f F“T s
‘'Don’t be too hasty, J Sarah,” ’ called
t-i. „<■, , ..., r , 'r i M , ,
custom It never n ; to deny , IS before always I my am
asked.” Flossy had not stopped to hear
Sarah’s harangue, f ’ but had * nished past 1
a— . . , j
piece a**’-““ of pie. She went directly T ■ to T the
man and held up her offering to him.
He looked at her a minute in silence.
drew his hands across his eves, then took
them from her, saying: ‘ ‘Thanks little
one for your kindness ' to the tramp.”
Then turning to Mr. Moses, he said: “I
see it Will be of no use-for me to ask for
a night’s rest in your house, sir?”
The tones of the man’s voice impressed
the farmer as they had his child.
“Well, no,” said honest John, “my
woman is a bit nervous, and strangers put
her out a great deal.” . '
“How far is it to the village?” the
man asked £
“Four miles to the tavern,” replied
Mr. Moses; “but you might get put up
somewhere on the road.”
“Thank you, sir, I hjopc I may, for I
am very tired and need rest; good night,
sir.” '
“Good night,” returned thefamer; and
the - t*»mp passed on. He had not gone
far, when he heard the little voice of
Flossy at his side, “I know who will
take you in Mr.-aud let you rest all
night. Granny,” she cried eagerly.
“She lives right there in that house on
the hill, and she and Grace will make
you real comfortable. My Granny and
Grace are the goodest womans you ever
see.” V
“And who is Grape? Grandma's
daughter?”
“Oh, no, she ain’t Granny’s girl!
She’s Grace Seyton. Her mother died
ever so long ago, when I, was a
little girl, I guess, and aud iived Granny
made Grace come wvith
her. She’s just awful ood all
the time; not one mite like arah Bo
ton. She’s as cross as two sticks, ’carle
she can’t get married. Roy says he’s my
big brother, but I don’t see why. My
LINCOLNTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 25. 1839.
Grace ain’t married, and she's
cross.”
“Sarah Boston is the lady that
into the yard while you were speaking
me?”
“Yes; but I must go back now. You
go to Granny’s, and she’ll let you come
in sure. Good-bye.”
for “Good-bye, little girl,and many thanks
your kindness to the poor tramp;
some day I may see you again. Good¬
bye, dear child, ” and the tramp turned
and went on toward the house on the hill,
while the child ran swiftly home. She
found her father, mother and Sarah at
the gate waiting for her. When Mr.
¥ tae oses tram cntered good-night, the house, he found after his bidding wife
P
25 d Sa ™ h taUdn S “bout tlle stranger,
They dld not the absence of little
Flossy fir some time. The mother, of
course, was the first to think of her, and
at once exclaimed:
“John, where is Flossy?”
“Sure enough, I thought she came into
the house.”
He opened the door and called, but no
response. “Shouldn't wonder one mite
ir sbe bad S oae “ piece with that man.”
“Ob, John,go quick!” and the mother
ran past her husband down to the gate,
but be was there beside her instantly,
."bile V’ exclaimed Sarah followed. Mrs. Moses; “Yes, there she
' “go quick,
J (, bn, aud gether; he may try to get her
off with him.”
“Oh, no he won’t; don’t get excited,
Itotlile; let’s see what the little witch is
G oiu S to do. Just as likely as not she is
tolling him to go to mother's to get
rested. She was very much interested
* n mau * That child’s got a heart of
gold.”
“Humph I” came sharply from Sarah
Boston’s lips, “a heart like John Moses,
you had better say; she’s a chip of the
old block. If she belonged to me I
wouldn’t have her running off down the
road with that ragged tramp, I know.”
“Well, Sally, (John knew she dis
liked to be called Sally), I do hope for
one that your children will be brought up
all right, and no mistakes made. Ah!
here comes Flossy now; we’ll see what.
she has to say about it.” Flossy ran up
to them with glowing cheeks and spark
Ung eyes, and soon confirmed her father’s
statement corncerning the tramp being
told to go to grandma’s for rest, Her
father laughed and said: “Well, Flossy,
we shall have to go up and gee about it
after supper. .1 have not a doubt but my
mother will take him in, and it will not
be the first one, either. She has an idea
that what she does for wayfarers will be
meted out to William, and I do hope if
Will is in the land of the living that he
will come home before a great while; but
I doubt if we shall ever see the dear old
fellow againand Farmer John looked
very sober.
‘“Coming in, Sarah?” lie called'to
Miss Boston, who was running away.
“No, I am on my way to the mission
circle. I took an early tea to-night, as
there is a lot to do at the meeting to
night; you had better join our circle, Mr.
Moses, and assist us in our efforts for
helping the poor heathen.”
“Well, Sarah, I ain’t quite ready for
that,” John replied; “there are quite a
lot of suffering poor in our own country
that I must try to help first.”
® 0 ° d ' n ^ ht > Mr \ r s. Moses, « said Sarah, ,
3 , W
^ ’
house with & Flossy. he h Those passed "two, a into John the
“1“’ nev f ™ together, at °“S
££ SS.TJ
Hoy,” said his father, “I don’t know but
you will have to go up and J stay with
L 8
iTe’—a v '” s&n*’! t *•
h
uv** “Yes, 7 ’ she got jteBcoldwlflat quite 4 excited wfttrnan." over the
‘ramp,” said Mr. Moses.
“Wt her,” said Rov. “Report r has
^ 1 . • 15 ■ after tha * ‘ • • “™!
““ have a harder time converting ™ T her 5? than 11
*• E h rr 1 r *■*%*
1 ‘
„,. nn , llr , 0 '
W1 ^ I irece< ^ e them, reader, and see
bow t be tramp was received,
As he neared the low-roofed farm house,
he drew the slouched hat lower over his
forehead, then stepped up and rapped
U P°“ the door. It was opened almost irn
mediately by one who must have been
i''l oss y “ Grace Seyton; a slight figure,
with goodness written in every feature of
the ex P resslve face; d »rk hazel eyes and
wav y golden browit hair. The tramp
asked if she would let him come in and
rest spoke 8 fhileashewas from the inner room: very tired. “Yes, A Grace, voice
yes, let the stranger come in.”
Grace opened the door and the man
stepped in. An old lady of about seventy
.sMmmers sat in a large armchair knitting.
I say summers, for it did not seem as if
that fair and placid face had ever wit¬
nessed the rough storms and blasts of
ao\A dreary winter. ‘ ‘Take a seat by
the fire, sir; it is growing colder, and I
fear we may have a storm before morning;
have you much further to go, stranger?”
madam,” ‘ ‘I was thinking of reaching the tavern,
the man replied, “I inquired of
a mspi who told me that it was four miles
to the viflage. It seems a long and cold
walk. Do you think to-day that you
could keep me all night; I really dread
to go out in the storm and cold again.”
“Well, sir,” replied Mrs. Moses, “I
have never turned the stranger from my
door. We are two women here alone,
Grace and I, .and if I let yon stay all
night, His I trust the good Lord will cape for
own. ’For the sake of my son, my
boy, who has been wandering these six
years, I do to others as I would
have other* do for him.”
“You have a son, madam, out in the
world. How could he leave liis home, and
such a mother, for so long a tim»; he
must bean ungrateful, uudutiful son.”
“My Willie will come some-day, and
then I shall know all about it; we will
. not discuss the matter,” said the old
I with dignity. Then turning to
Grace, she said: “Now, dear, we will
have some supper; I dare say the man is
hungry.”
As Grace disappeared down the cellar
stairs on hospitable thoughts intent, Mrs.
Moses again addressed the stranger.
“Will you please take your hat off,
sir? I always like to see who I am talk¬
ing to.”
The stranger arose, threw off the old
coat and slouched hat and stood re¬
vealed a tall, handsome and well dressed
man; the kindly blue eyes beaming with
love and tenderness upon the old lady.
Mrs. Moses’s hands released their hold of
the stocking which she was forming. It
fell to the floor unheeded save by the
kitten, who in less than two minutes
was perfectly wound up in yarn, stocking
and knitting needles, while the kitten’s
mistress tottered forward, crying out,
“Is it possible, can it be my son, my
Willie?"
The stranger received her in his arms,
murmuring: Willie, “My mother, yes it is your
come back to your faithful heart
at last.” Grace Seyton, hearing the
commotion hurried from the cellar, drop¬
ping meat, doughnuts, bread and pie,
which she had been collecting for the
tramp’s supper, all in a heap together.
She feared the man had attacked the old
lady in her absence, and her astonish¬
ment was unbounded when she reached
the head of the stairs and saw Mrs.
Moses clasped in the stranger’s arms.
They both looked up at her exclamation
of astonishment, Mrs. Moses's face beam¬
ing with joy and happiness.
“The lost is found, Grace; this is my
son, my Willie; and Willie you surely re¬
member little Grace Seyton.”
“Yes, indeed I do,” he replied, taking
the blushing and bewildered girl by the
hand, “though I should hardly recog¬
nize in this young lady the child which I
used to know, had I not been prepared
to find her here with mother.”
ing “IJhy, who told you that she was liv¬
with me. Willie?” asked Mrs. Moses.
In reply he told her of his
conversation with little Flossy and
father, and of the child’s eager
desire that he should go to her granny’s
to get rested.
‘ ‘Blessed child, ” said the grandmother,
“she has been a great consolation to me
in your absence, William.”
She had hardly ceased speaking when
footsteps were heard, and in another in¬
stant in walked Flossy and her father.
The child gazed in surprise at the nice
looking gentleman fler who was seated be¬
side her granny, father was quite
as much surprised as the child. For the
space of ouet-mWtfrMeO one spoke; i>ut
presently,' a jbyftii light, of recognition
passed over John Moses’s face, and he ex¬
claimed: “William, my brother I Can it
be possible?” and the brothers were
clasped in each other's arms—boys again
for the moment. It was some little time
before quiet was restored. During this
time Flosssy stood bewildered; even Grace
had not thought' of her. It was Uncle
William who went to her and taking her
in his strong arms, untied and removed
her hood, the warm cloak and little red
mittens, explaining at the same time who
he was, and showing her the old shabby
coat and hat, and telling her that it was
her own uncle to whom she had been so
kind. She understood him fully, and
when he had finished by asking her if
she'was not going to love him too, as
well as grandma and Grace, she answered
him by putting her arms about his neck
and giving him a hearty kiss.
They all laughed as berfather exclaimed i
‘‘I guess that settles the question. Now,
Will, old fellow, where have you been
all this time ?”
“It is a long story, John, but I will
try to make everything clear to you.”
We will not try,reader,to tell his story
in full, but let it suffice to say that he
had met with misfortune the first four
years of his stay abroad; he had grown
tired and of trying to grow rich farming,
had gone to the gold mines to make
a fortune, and there fortune favored him;
but the letters to and from home were
miscarried, and the yearning for home and
mother became so great that ho
could stay uo longer, and, as we have
seen, returned home. Toward spring o'
the same year a noble house was erected
near the old one in which Mrs. Moses
lived; great pains were taken with its
finishing and furnishing. A large sunny
room was reserved for Grandma Moses;
sweet Grace Seyton became its
beloved mistress, loved ly her
husband for her own self and also for her
goodness to his mother while she was
comparatively alone; loved by little Flossy
and we may say by everyone excepting
Sarah Boston, who was very much cha¬
grined when she learned that the man
whom she had treated so scornfully was
none other than William Moses, rich and
handsome. Sarah knew that in the olden
time she had some influence with
handsome Will; so after his return she
decided to leave the missionary to his fate,
and the poor heathen, and try her arts on
William Moses. Her disappointment
was great when she learned that Grace
was to be mistress of the new house.
“Marry that chit of a girl,” she said in
her sharpest tones to Mrs. John Moses.
(John wasn't anywhere round) “Why h6
is old enough to be her father.”
“Oh, no, "Mrs. Moses returned, “there
is but ten years difference in their ages,
and I never saw a happier couple.”
She spoke truly, they were very happy.
Grandma Moses was happy, too, and
little Flossy was happy every day by some
present or attention from Uncle Will,
who almost, worshiped with the little girl, and
she returned his love interest.
Reader, do yon see the moral of this
story? Perhaps, all may not be deserving,
but "let us be kind and charitable, aud
let God be the judge.
We exported Jastyear more. petroleum
than ever before-^-612,000,000 gallons,
of the estimated value of $49,420,817.
The United States purchased Floridt
from Spaia. February 1819. ....
.
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS. SKETCHES
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Miss Kmcr-Had a Good
Alter the Elopement—He Drew
the Line — A Judge of
Art — Etc., Etc,
She's as dainty and as quaint as a
Little miss as haunts tha park:
She adores me, though she bores me,
When she meets me in the dark
Softly Round sings she—gently swings she,
and round my rustic chair.
Near and nearer—clear and clearer—
Fairy music floats in air.
Now she presses soft caresses
On my sun burned, humid brow—
While she woos me, sleep pursues me—
Dreamy visions come and—o-o-w! !
— Time.
BAD A GOOD CLAIM.
“So Snifkens is dead,” remarked De
Clook to EUick.
“Yes; he died of Bright's disease.
didn’t he?”
“I don’t know whether it was Bright’s
or not. Snifkens seems to have as good
a claim on it as anybody .'-WashiwjUm
Capitol. ”
AFTER THE ELOPEMENT.
He—“And now, dear, since we are
safe on the train, why do you seem so
sad?”
ev, She (pettishly)—“We , ,, , were not . even
chased. I don’t think it was one bit ro
mantic!”— Puck.
HE DBKW THE LINE.
Proprietor (of cheap restaurant)
“Yes, I want to hire a man. Are vou
willing do kind *
to any of work?"
Applicant—“Oh, yes: I am perfectly
here. willing to "._ do any kind of work but eat
sir. 5 Time
A JUDGE OF ABT.
L^hSd^youf b ;S e T judge ^of fim
But^^do e SkP° d JU ‘ lge ’ EObb> ‘
rou
Bobby—“Oh, he told me last night
that he was going to get the man who
painted your portrait to paint his house.”
—Home Sentinel.
A TF.RRIELE BURDEN.
Clara—“What a terrible noise that
wagon makes!”
George—“Yes, it’s terrible, isn’t it?”
“What makes it groan so, George?”
“Why, it is filled with green apples.”
—‘ Statesman.
A safe depositing vault.
Xafamiy—“What he did the minister mean
when said sumetnias —
where thieves do not break through and
steal?”
Mr. Dumpsey—* ‘He referred to your
mother’s dress "pocket, my son.”— Law
rente American.
SHE DIDN’T KNOW.
Mr. Bultitude—“Young Mr. Pawdle
wants me to give him a position in the
office, Flora, You're acquainted with
him. Is he a man of brains?”
Flora—“Really, papa. I don't know.
I’ve never met him except in society.”—
"
Omaha World-Herald.
OPINIONS CONFIRMED.
Wife—“John, love, I read one of your
sweet love letters to-day, and came across
a passage in which you said: “There is
no one your equal in this wide, wide
Husband (with « groan)—-And , , , T lam
£L°L P 1 ' SM3e °^ m0B ~ Kearne y
THINGS BEST LEFT UNSAID.
The Doctor—“I think, my dear sir,
that it would be better to have a con
*ultation; your wife is seriously ill.”
Anxious Husband—“There! I told
my wife long ago she ought to have
proper medical advice, but she was so
afraid of hurting your feeling's.”— Lon¬
don Standard ,
ANOTHER HOTEL TRAGEDY.
Miss Crimple (to clerk of Snake Creek
House)—“Will you please send the por¬
ter to our room, Mr. Bigstud?”
Clerk—“Yes, ma’am; anything
wrong?”
“Papa just shot a mosquito, and we
would like Patrick to carry it out.”—
Wunsey’s Weekly.
AIMLESS BUT EFFECTIVE.
“Do you ever go hunting?”
“No, but my wife does.”
“Your wife?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“Oh, for burglars, or fire,or paregoric,
or trouble, or my salary; it’s always hard
to tell in advance.”— Washington Capital.
THE WIND TAKEN OUT OF HER SAILS.
“Mr. McClintock,” shouted his better
half, “I want you to take your feet off
the parlor table.”
“Mrs. McClintock,” he said, iu a
fixed, determined voice, “I allow only
one person to talk to me that way.”
“And who is that?” she demanded.
“You, my dear,” he replied softly, as
he removed the pedes__ Judge.
A HOPELESS CASE.
Smith—“Hullo, Johnson, you’re not
looking well.”
Johnson—“No, I’m under the weath
er. I’ve had to leave off smoking, too. ”
“That’s bad—very bad.”
“Ye*, but that isn’t the worst of it.
I’m afraid that leaving off smoking is go¬
ing to do me good .”—Medical and Sur¬
gical Reporter.
not under that charge.
“Wlwt’s the trouble about this
woman?’ said the Judge.
“Why, your honor, she keeps quarrel
ing and fussing, and whatever.” won’t give her
neighbors any peace her
“Then why don’t you charge with
oeinff a common scold?”
j “Because she ain’t a common scold;
j ihc’s exceptional .”—Washington Critic,
ELOOKED AGAEV.
i Husband—“The paper says that the
plainer a woman dresses, the more her
taste is admired.”
Wife—“Yes, by miserly husbands.”—
Boston Courier.
THE OBIGJDT OF A BROIL.
“Get out of my way!” “Step off in the
mud yourself. The walk is as much
enne as it is yours!” rue first of the
two speakers was the possessor of an
i incipient boil on the back of the neck,
The second bad just got a letter'from
home announcing that he was the father
of a pair of lustv twins. The fight
which took place on that narrow side
walk was tbe most desperate ever known
in the history of the town.— Chicago
Tribune.
ENGLAND BEWARE!
‘‘William! exclaimed Mrs. High
strung, as sue laid down the paper,
"There is lately to he a war with Eng
“ nd over Behring Sea.”
d ° ? ‘f**!!’ **°^ her soouse '
"“Otooino , interest in military matters.
Idon t ^ ,at 7™ f re or don t
care,” returned , Mrs. Highstrung, with ,
some vehemence. 'This war is &b<wt
seals and if England wins they can charge
any price they please for seal skin
sacques, and I ain’t got one yet. If a war
breaks out you've got to go and fight fer
F‘ T country, d’ye hear ?”—Sera York
Weekly
j
SOMETHING WBOXO WITH THE MILK.
A M
.. <*>&**> ctable
US a insure -
tl ?“’ mt0 wl ” ch poor lads had been draft
f d fr ?“ the , Eas { ecd of London, and,
“ addres f^S Jem, he congratulated
? aence. em 011 The boys delights looked of their unaccountably new rest
gloomy and downcast, and the Bishop
kindly asked:
“Axe you not comfortable? Have you
“IStiieTeS^i his hand.
“ W 1 " t *° U 'mV 10 y0U meani
r Th « Tfch here is - tenfold better than h you
L ” Ddon -
- °- ladeed ’ 11 am .. c / led
’ ’In T London they always buys our milk
out of a nice clean shop, and here—why,
cow!”— here they TUI-Bite. squeeges it out of a beastly
Bathing Off the Coromandel Coast
Smith promptly constructed a very
comfortable tent with the sails and bam¬
boo poles of our boats, and as there was
a good hour before breakfast I set off to
the sea beach to have a dip in the surf—
Smith contenting himself with a bath in
the quieter waters opposite our camp,
“^.bathing if ia
dangerous indulgeuin when raewatrfs
high in the heavens; but, by frequent
experiments, I know it affords pleasure
aud health, provided you wear a pith
tnpee, and do not bathe immediately after
a meal. I had brought an old “mush¬
room"’ for the very purpose, and I was
“J?? 8 * 8 swim "and the rolling over
^ch each succeeding breaker gave me.
1 was m no hurry to leave the surf, but
the current was setting toward the south.
«i-d it bore me ere long to the entrance
the back water, ihe bar being open ai
that t,m f of * be Tear - Presently bmitn
-
appeared on the beach with his gun i:
his hand, and he suddenly began beckon¬
ing eagerly to me. I sang out. to know
what he wanted, and his reply was.
■ Man. I want you on shore as soon as
possible." “All right,” “I’m coming.
Just another dive." This time he shouted
Quite ” angrily. & \ “Come out at once!"
0 j stru 0 lt somewhat lariW {or tbe
shore, wondering what could have ha P -
pened to the worthy Captain to excite
him so much. He was now gesticulat¬
ing frantically, and I began to wonder
whether he had got a sunstroke and was
delirious, when, horror! he raised his
gun to his shoulder, took deliberate aim
at me, and fired! I heard the shot fiy
over my head, aud as he had another bar¬
rel loaded I swam furiously to land to dis¬
arm him before he might kill or fatally
wouud me. As I rushed out of the water
he flung down his gun and elapsed me in
his great powerful arms, “You were
nearly done for.” he exclaimed, “I
think so,” I replied, for though you are
a good marksman you are not quite a
William Tell, and those shots were un¬
comfortably near my head,” I added, not
in good-tempered tones. ‘‘It was not
you I fired at; it was the shark!” True
enough, while I was swimming in the
smooth water at the entrance to the la¬
goon, a small shark had seen me. Smith
having bathed and dressed had come to
look after me and to hurry me up for
breakfast. • Fortunately lie brought his
gun with him, aud at the moment he
reached the beach he saw the danger I
was in and rescued me as I have de¬
scribed. Later in the day some fisher¬
men found the body of the shark, which
had died of the shot wound from Smith’s
gun. It was about eight and one half
feet long, and though it could not have
eaten me, it could have snapped off a
limb, which would have sufficed. In the
surf I was perfectly safe, but the vora¬
cious fish had selected the slack water at
the bar as a happy hunting ground, and
lie nearly got a prey which would have
been unpleasant for me.— Blackwood's
Magazine.
A Woman’s Diving Feat.
An extraordinary diving feat was ac¬
complished at Blackpool North Pier be¬
fore a large number of spectators. The
weather was boisterous, but Miss Annie
Johnson essayed the task of staying un¬
der the water longer than two minutes,
fifty-one and a quarter seconds, which
ranked as the record achievement. She
stayed three minutes, tea seconds, which
is longer eighteen and the time three-quarter made by seconds
than Lurline
some years ago. Miss Johnsonis nineteen
y ear8 0 j. a g e> an a. j s 0 »e of the most ac
complished lady swimmers in the world.
,_Po?? Mall Gazette.
Persons whose favorite occupation is
rolling a lawn-mower cannot be said to
be wanting i» push.
Subscription: $1.25 in Advance.
THE GOLDEN-ROD.
Yes, let our nation’s emblem be
The flower that blooms from sea to sea,
That flings by every roadside free
Its wealth of feathery gold,
That decks the mountains in their pride
And waves along the prairies wide,
And smiles when frailer beauties hide
From autumn’s gathering cold.
In fields where happy children meet
And hear the wild bees humming sweet
And tread the sward with naked feet
Among the orchards fair
On banks where scarlet berries grow,
in a uiet lanes where iovers go,
Bright bursts of yellow glory show
The Golden-rod is there.
AV ’ terfc barrens burn, where torrents pour,
tt’here swells the hill, where sweeps the
shore,
Where sparrows flit, where eagles soar.
It shakes its conquering plume;
In the old grave-yards, brier-grown,
By cabined poverty, well-known.
Man’s friend the Golden-rod alone
Maintains its faithful bloom.
-A-nd eyes that weep the year's decay
Emile last to see that flower display
Its fulvid mantle o’er the gray,
"While ’neath October’s skv;
Its splendor that survives so well,
Flashing from f- T erv hill and deH.
Continuous like a sunset spell
Gilds summer’s long good-bye.
Symbol of loyal life, confess
By North and South, by East 2 nd West,
Faith's bravest blossom blew-’ r,sst
The empire of the free.
And breeze and sunshine, bee and bird
Will join when patriots speak tha word,
And say: “Our floral sign preferred
The Golden-rod shall be,’’
— if. B. Chaddock , in Youth's Companion
PITH AND POINT.
“Going, going, gone!”—A sail at sea.
In the mist of an ocean voyage—Fog$.
The original national flower was the
Mayflower .—Chicago Herald.
The man who is given "to sober reflec¬
tion seldom gets into a tight place.
Some jails would make good public
speakers, they have such an easy de¬
livery.
A citizen who has been run into by a
safety bicycle says it hurts just as much
as the old kind.
Jinks—“Been to the circus, eh? See
anything new?” .Blinks—“Yes, the
children who laughed at the clown were
new .—Hew York Weekly. ”
A barrister her lover was
And of the proper sort;
He never went to law, she said,
But often came to court.
—Washington Capital.
A runaway South Carolina convict
“That’s ’nuff,” and quit. -^H ew York
Hews.
Peasant (after having thoroughly
thrashed a stubborn ox)—“See now, if
live you were together not so like obstinate brothers. we "---Fliefende two might
Blaetter.
Man may be afflicted with 11,415
diseases known to medical science, and
99,000,000 medicines ten times worse
than any of the diseases. — Lawrence
American.
Labrador Home Life in Winter.
If there be anything like a social pr
home-life in Labrador, it exists exclusive¬
ly in the long, frozen night of the win¬
ter. Then the entire inhabitants retire
from the howling coast to winter quar¬
ters within the trifling shelter of spruce
forests and protecting nver crags, and
from their burrows of sod, hut and ice,
sally forth in their sledges or cometiques
to “visit” each other in their storm-swept
settlements for distances of hundreds of
miles. These trips are made over the
glistening snow at the rate of sixty to 100
•niles per day, by the aid of their gaunt
and ferocious dogs which are kept in sub¬
mission by that crudest and deadliest of
all drivers’ scourges, the Esquimaux
whip. Its handle is not a foot long, but
the lash is often forty feet in length, and
the drivers are so skilled in its use that a
piece can be struck out of a “leader,” or
“guide.” dog’s ear at a distance of from
thirty to forty feet. These dogs, fully
150 of which I saw at Hopedale, me
simply a species of partly domesticated
wolves. They are fed on fish once each
day. In the summer they are sources
of endless terror about the coast settle¬
ments ; but life would be impossible here
without their use in winter. These vis¬
iting tours are marked by the most prodi¬
gal hospitality; and a good deal of rude
pleasure,indeed all these is far-away enjoyed. humans
in any manner secure, But
Labradorian life is an endless round of
inane, sodden .fruitlessness at best. The
summer is passed in a scourging effort
for winter’s provision. death Winter cold brings and
its struggles to prevent by
hunger. These human animals seem
born to exist, be robbed and to die.
One turns from the slightest glimpse of
land and people, heart-sick from irrevo¬
cability of the hopelessness of both.
Labrador can never be less than what
Jaques Cartier truly termed it in 1534,
“the land given to Cain.”— Tmet-Betno
crat.
Four Engravers for One Bill.
It requires four plates to engrave a Mil
in the Bureau of Printing and Engrav¬
ing. An engraver is required for each of
the two borders and faces, hence, four
engravers make one bill and none of the
four knows the entire design. Some of
the counterfeiters now serving sentence
are the finest engravers in the country,
and some have been in Government
employ, After the counterfeit bills are
printed from the engraved plates they are
stained with coffee tp give them an old
appearance that they may the easier
escape detection. A crisp new counter¬
feit is never put into circulation.— Waeh*
ington Star.
According to the recent statistics, there
are at present 500 men in New York city,
each of whom could check $1,000,000
tbe '
from banks.