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SUNDAY MORNING. PUNCH AND JUDY. ~ r " Origin and Evolution of This Popular English Puppet Show. The drama of ‘‘Punch and Judy” is supposed to have originated in Italy about 1600. It soon spread and became very popular in Eng land, especially in the reign of Queen Atone, l" <O2-14. The abuse of performing in churches had led to the practice of performing plays in Inn yards, on scaffolds upon a yrecn adjoining a town or village, sometimes in public halls of- bor oughs and cities and sometimes in the dwellings of the nobility. This drama, as originally performed, was very lengthy as compared with the present and had never any pro gramme or bill of fare, hut largely worked in passing events. About JB.IH, however, a play was ftHv which the following is an c °f the plot: Mr. Punch is ?b4<fmtleinan of .very courtly pres ence and marries a lady of the name of Mrs. Judy. This is the distinguishing title of maiden la dies not ennobled, a title which Mrs. Judy retains in wedlock also. The issue of the marriage is a beauti ful child, a little girl, whom Mr. Punch kills in a fit of frenzy, but as the deed is accomplished Mrs. Judy enters, but leaves the scene to return wit h a bludgeon, with which she belabors her lord and master. The tables are soon turned, how ever, and the dead infant and th> dying mother are shot out through the window into the street. The house bring entered, Punch escapes on horseback to Spain. The play ends in a satire, idleness being rep resented by a black dog, disease bv a doctor, death by a skeleton and the devil first by a beautiful woman, then in propria persona, dragging Punch to the infernal regions. But the .attempt fails, and Punch tri umphs over doctor, death and the devil. The drama was entitled “Punch and Judy,” which appellation the puppet performance still retains. In 1710 there was no dog in the play, but a pig, so well trained that it danced a minuet with Mr. Punch. Mrs. Grundy. Every one knows Hint “What will Mrs. Grundy say?” is a question tantamount to “What will gossip have to say about it?” but few peo ple know anything about Mrs. Grundy herself. The character of Mrs. Grundy originated in Thomas Morton’s com edy of “Speed the Plow,” which was first acted in London in 1798. The garrulous old lady does not appear at all upon the scene, but is fre quently mentioned by Dame Ash field in her conversations with her husband, for she is envious of Mrs. Grundy’s good luck. Farmer Ash iield becomes thoroughly exasperat ed and exrlaims: “lie quiet, will ye? Always din ning Dame Grundy in my ears. ‘What will Mrs. Grundy say? What “will Mrs. Grundy think?’ Canst thou be quiet and let her alone?” The audience took up the cry, “What wilt Mrs. Grundy say?” and Mrs. Grundy came to be considered a garrulous and scandalous old wo man, the typical gossip of the town, whom it would be well to shun and who should never be allowed to gain a knowledge of any affairs which we should mind having proclaimed from the housetops. The Editor Turned. “Here is a poem, which you may publish in your paper,” said a young man, with eyes in a line frenzy roll ing, as he entered the editorial room. “1 dashed it off rapidly in an idle moment, and you will find it in a rough state, as it were. You can make such corrections as you think necessary.” “Ah, much obliged,” said the ed itor. “1 will giye you a check for it at once.” “You are very kind;" said the contributor. “I shall be delight ed.” “There you are,” said the other, handing him the check. “Many thanks,” exclaimed the young man. “1 will bring you some other poems.” When he got to the door, he sud denly paused, then came back. “Excuse me,” he said, “but you forgot to fill up the chfeck. You have not written the date nor the amount, nor have you signed your name.” “Oh,” said the editor, “that is ail right. Y'ou see, I have given you a check in its tough 3tate, as it were. You can make such corrections as you think necessary.” Where They Fall Down. Smith —Women are rapidly as suming all the positions formerly occupied by men. Jones —Yes, but there is one vo cation in which they fail to score. Smith —What is that? Jones— Soliciting life insurance. They invariably talk a man to death before getting him insured. —Chica- go News. , A White Mail’s &5£ Choice Copyright, 1901, by Martha McChilloch- Williams Jimmy Marion was no great shakes. In the mind of Brush Creek Jimmy had but two redeeming qualities. One was being his father's son, the other that lie had wit enough to love his fa ther’s ward, Oressy Oliphant. Upon a summer morning Creasy called to him over her shoulder: "Jim my. do come on! You are the slowest old thing! And you know I hate a man or a horse without lots of go." They were riding up hill. Cressy’s whiplash whined accompaniment to her words. Jimmy had a talent for saying nothing, still as lie eiune with in easy hail he piped amiably, “Cress, I been wonderin’ all this mornin’ if you won’t never learn better'n to gal lop a horse up hill.” “I’ve been wondering if you will ever learn anything.” Cressy retorted, slash ing savagely at a near bush. Jimmy opened his eyes. “Whut's the matter, cross cat?” he asked. “Yon come Tid in' with me—nobody didn’t make you— an' I’ve let you pick your own road an’ go your own gait"— “If you’ve tired of me, I’ll go on by myself,” Cressy said irritably, half wheeling her horse. Jimmy kept be side her. “You needn’t try to run away frum me,” he said. “I been knowiti’ all the way you felt bad, an’ I reckon I know wliut about.” “You don’t! What is it?” Cressy an swered all in a breath. Jimmy laughed tranquilly. “I fetched you a letter yis tlddy evenin’—n letter frum Charley." "What business have you to know that?” Cressy demanded. “He’s coin in’ today. That’s why I am runnln’ away.” "Ef he pesters you, I'll make hihi go right back,” Jimmy said promptly, then his face fell. “But it’ll be sorter awkward. Old Charles is all the own cousin I’ve got. Pappy an’ mammy think nigh as much of him as they do of me.” “You ought to hate him. Why don’t you?” Cressy demanded. Jimmy stared. “Hate him!” he repeated slowly. “Why should I hate him? He cau’t help be in’ whut he is smart an’ bright an’ good lookin’—uo more’n I can help be in’ what I am.” “And whut is that?” Cressy asked crisply. Jimmy drew a deep breath. “A born tool,” he said humbly. "But 1 got seuse enough to know it. All I can do is to he a real white man, an’ it ain’t white to hate Char—anybody better off.” “You are worse than a born fool—a made one,” Creasy cried passionately. “An’ you won’t siaiul up for yourself. You won’t even say you love me—you drive me to tell ym I know it”— “You help hut know It,” Jimmy broke in. “You been knowin’ it ever sence you were knee high. 1 been fool enough to think sometimes maybe you might fetch yourself to take me-an’ the place”— “I do love- the place,” Cressy inter rupted, a smile dawning in her stormy eyes. “An’ it has belonged to the Mur ions ever sence the Indians went away.’ “I know,” Jimmy said wistfully, “but don’t let that bother you, Cress. There’s Jest us two of the name —Charles an’ me. You needn’t never leave- the place—no matter whut happens.” Then persuasively, “Bet’s us leave all this talk until next year.” “Charley is not so patient,” Cressy said, swallowing hard. “He insists up on a definite answer today.” “I lay be don’t get it--not until you are good an’ ready,” Jimmy said, with a quick smile, patting her hand. Then he ran on haltingly, “Cressy, I love you all I know how, but don’t you let that count if—if you love—anybody else.” They were nearing a roadside gate. As Cressy went through it she said, with her head very high: “Go home, Jimmy, an’ give Charley his Inswer. Tell him 1 don’t know—an’ I don't want to know.” As Jimmy went up the walk he saw his mother at the sitting room win dow, very white and moaning faintly. He rushed inside. His father met him, all his haie ruddiness changed to ashen gray. Charley had come and sat at Squire Marion's desk, his pen racing over a sheet of legal cap. Without looking up, he called: “Saddle me a fresh horse, Jimmy. The best you’ve igot. The minute this is signed I must tide like the devil.” “What’s up?” Jimmy demanded. His father clutched his shoulder, leaned heavily upon it and gasped: “Son, son, we’re on the edge of ruin! Charier found out early this mornin’ that Gill Magee had run away with all the coun ty money! And me on his bond for $50,000! I trusted Gill like my own brother!” * “There, there. Uncle Jim,” Charley Interposed. “Walls have ears some times, and we must not leave one loop hole in this precious document. It’s a deed of gift, Jimmy. Uncle Jim makes over to you everything—land, money, stock and crops.” “Whut for?” Jimmy asked, his eyes wide. Charley laughed shortly. "For the best of reasons—to save himself from beggary and keep a root over his head. But I’ve written it down for a consideration of sl, love and natural affection. Sign, quick, Uncle Jim. Un less this goes on record before Gill Ma gee’s pranks get wind, it will be worth less than the paper it’s written on.” "Oh, it’s hard!” the old man moaned. “In my old age too! I never did think 1 could be brought to any of them cov erin’ up tricks. I’ve been so proud to THE BRUNSWICK DAILY NEWS. hear folks say, ‘As honest as a Ma rion.’ But what, else can I do? I’m old—seventy next month! I eain't let my home go! 1 eain’t take my wife to the poorhouse!” “You'll have me, pappy, no matter whut conics,” Jimmy said, lifting his head and throwing his arm about his father’s bowed shoulders. So bolding him, he moved to where lbs m.'thvr eat, lifted her to her feet and with his free arm drew her to liis breast. Then he turned to his cousin and said clear ly: “Charley, it was good in you to think of us this a-way. But 1 eain’t see tilings your way. Now Gili's gone bad, by the Lord, lie shan't take old Jim Marion with him. 1 love the place, every stock an’ stone an’ red clay bill in it, next to—niy own people. But 1 won’t keep It unless 1 can keep it hon est”— “Are you crazy?” Charley broke in. “I can change the beneficiary in a trice. Say, Uncle Jim, won’t you trust me? I’ll certainly never take advan tage of your trust. Speak quick. We have just three hours’ grace, and it will take two at least to get back to the courthouse.” “I— I don’t believe l keor to save tilings except for Jimmy,” Squire Ma rion began brokenly. Charley sprang to his feet and step ped in front of his cousin. He was white with anger and apprehension. In a high shaken voice lie cried: “For God’s sake, Jimmy, don’t doom your father and mother to beggary. It makes me feel like shooting you to hear you quibble and prate when all their comfort, It may be tlieir lives, bangs on the matter of a minute.” “They have got me,” Jimmy reiter ated. Charley flung up his hands. “Y'ou!” he .cried, with the intensest scorn. "What are you? What can you do—without money or brains?” “Work—all day an’ all night,” Jim my said sturdily. Charley drew back a step, his face twitching. He bit his lips hard before he went on. "Another thing, think of Cressy. She will end by marrying you if you keep the place. It Is that which lias stood between me and winning her. I know It. Remember, I am speaking now against myself. I cannot do less in face of all I owe my uncle and my dear, good aunt. Speak to Jimmy, both of you. If lie still refuses to save you, sign this deed and put It In my power.” Mrs. Marion nestled close to her son. Her husband broke away from them and leaned from the open window. Jimmy’s eyes followed the father’s gaze as It rested upon the familiar fields, the trig barns, the deep, slind owy woodlands belting (lie clear land. Could they give it up amt go away, strangers in a strange land? Stronger, more insistent was tlie thought of Cressy. llow should a beg gar lift eyes to her? No, not a beggar except for work! Somehow tiie word was a tonic. He faced half about, drew his mother in front of him and said with many breaks: “Charley—l—l —eain’t talk with you. But the Ford help me—to show I—can work with you.” Squire Marion stepped beside ids son, linked arms and said: “Ituin or no ruin, Charley, I’ll do as Jimmy says. If the money must all go, let It! Lord, what is all the property In the world beside findin’ that I’ve got a real man fer my soil?” “The best man in the world,” Cressy cried, breaking tempestuously from an ambush of half closed door. “I had to come home right behind you,” she panted to Jimmy. “It—it is not true— what he said,” nodding toward Char ley. “Now you have lost everything else, I ask you to —to take me.” “Amen. The Lord be praised!” Squire Marlon said, catching Cressy in his arms. Charley darted away, swearing under ids breath. Jimmy? Jimmy put his head upon Ids mother’s shoul der and cried for the lirst time since he was ten years old. Jimmy showed the stuff he was made of by working through live hopeless years trying to save the homestead, mortgaged to full value. Cressy helped him, singing about the place, her face always sunshiny, her tempers all blown away. Still there was rejoic ing, indeed, when Gill Magee came back from the Klondike with money enough to make good all ids luckless sureties had paid. Little Jim, aged four, higli in the arms of ids doting grandmother, held the canceled mort gage in a candle flame and laughed to see it burn. Across the hearth the grandfather looked on with eyes that did not see and murmured brokenly, “The righteous shall not be forsaken nor his seed beg bread.” In Blnrk find White. One of Atlanta's most prominent bankers has a young son who has al ready developed a surprising faculty for business. His father gave him SO. and instead of spending it he handed it back to bis father to deposit for him in order that he might draw the interest A few days later, however, the youngster saw something he wanted more than he did the inteiest, so asked his father to please return*the money. Tliis the banker refused to do, ex plaining that the son bad no note for the money, and unless he could prove in black and white that the money had been handed him the $5 was his. The youthful financier looked both puzzled and unhappy, then his counte nance cleared. He called the colored butler. “John, did you see me give father $5 the other day?” He was answered in the affirmative. Then he put the same question to his grandmother. When she, too, said yes, young Ma cbiavelli turned to his father trium phantly: “There, father, I have it in black and wlilte.” Needless to add, he got the money.— Atlanta Journal. “Let the GOLD DUST I Bjpfl, twins do your work.” | The overworked housewife should call 1 GOLD DUST tothe rescue. Ft will shorten her work and lengthen her leisure. Cleans everything cleanable from cellar to I |i attic dishes and clothes, pots and pans, floors and doors. | Housework is hard work without GOLD DUST— the modern cleanser ; better and more economical than soap. 1 t Made only by THE N. K. FAIRBANK COMPANY. i Chicago, New York, Boston, St. Louis Makers ol OVAL FAIRY SOAP. I (if ffij i;) A \ If you’re going on a trip Here’s a pleasant little tip Place a bottle in your grip Red Top Rye S. D. LEVADAS, Sole agent Brunswick, Ga. and Vicinity. w * 206 Monk Street. Ferdinand Weslheitner C Sona, Distillers Cincinnati, 0. St. J seph, Mo. Louisville, Ky The Aka of tle Water Clock. As far buck ns 2(53(1 H. C. a China man named Hwang Ti discovered tho principle of the water clock, or “clep sydra.” It was a very crude Instrument, chief ly for astronomical purposes, and was committed to the care of mi officer known as the “clepsydra adjuster.” It consisted of two copper vessels, one above and one below, the former hav ing a bole in the bottom, through which the water percolated into the latter, where there was a float, tho gradual rise of which indicated periods of time. Portable contrivances of this description were sometimes carried on horseback. Instruments constructed on the same principle were in use among the Glial deans and Egyptians at an early pe riod. The invention in western Asia was independent of that in the east, both being the result of similar wants. Clepsydras were subsequently formed of a series of vessels communicating by tubes passing through figures of dragons and other images, tlie whole being rendered yet more ornamental by floats held between the hands of genii. The Woodcock. The food of the woodcock consists of worms, leeches and grubs, which the bird seeks by probing with its bill the earth of such swamps as contain them. There are miles and miles of wet swamp lands among our hills where the soil, composed of peat and de eayed leaf mold, is too cold and sour to hold worms. Into such swamps the woodcock never goes. The best wood cock ground is along the banks of woodland brooks that wind in and out through alder swamps, where the rich black mold is soft and full of worms and where the skunk cabbage and hel lebore grow thick and broad leafed. Such places are the woodcock’s dining rooms, and in them he leaves his sign manual, the oblong, almost triangular hulas which dot each and every square fee* of earth where a worm might tios sidy lurk.—Outing. From H *' jiilc'k Dictionary. Crank—A person whose views are the opposite of our own. Egotist A person who thinks as much of himself as other people do of themselves. Honor—That which people talk about when they want to get out of doing something they don’t want to do. Society—That which we lay the blame on when anything goes wrong.—John Eliot in Lippincott’s. Pnre Blooded. Mrs. Bondclipper—Doctor, what do you think is the matter tvith me? Doctor—l am Inclined to think that your blood Is not pure. I’ll have to give you something to purify your blood. Mrs. Bondclipper (haughtily)—You are probably not aware that I belong to a good old Norman family.—London Tit-Bits. DON’T MONKEY W.TH THE BUZZ SAW. 'V p) •r ‘i /■ .■ ■: ; i\\ by buying lumber of unreliable deal ers. When you want anything in lum ber come to tie. YVo will fill your or der accurately and promptly. We will give you just the lumber you want at just the right price. You can always save money by placing your order with us. Phone 197. Lang <& Vv ood. PLANING MILL. ‘Phono 197. IS YELLOW POISON in your blood ? Physicians call it flalarial derm. It can be seen changing red blood yellow under microscope. It works day and night, First.it turns your com plexion yellow. Chilly, aching sensations creep down your backbone. You feel weak and worthless. ROBERTS’ CHILL TONJC will stop the trouble now. it enters tho blood at once and drives out the yellow poison. If neglected and when Chills, Fevers, Nigh!-Sweats and a gen eral break-down come later on, Roberts’ Tonic will cure you then—but why wait? Prevent future sickness. The manufac turers know all about this yel low poison and have perfected Roberts’ Tonic to drive it out, nourish your system, restore appetite, purify the blood, pre vent and cure Chills, Fevers and Malaria. It has cured thous ands—lt will cure you, or your money back. This is fair. Try it. Price, 25 cents, for s,-i by Sm/Hi’Bl’hflnwiiq v ; IhffQ; P. DEV ARRIS. STAPLE AND FANCY GROCERIES Fruits, Vegetables, £to. MONK STREET. Free delivery. Notice is directed to the advertise meut of A. Zelmenovitz in this issue. This popular grocer can save you mon ey. Try him on your next order. Try Rob Roy flour. ASK FOR ROB ROY FLOUR. America’s Famous Beauties Look with horror on Skin Eruptions, Blotches, Sores, Dimples. They don’t have them, nor will any one. who uses Buckien’s Arnica Salve, it glori fies the lace. Eczema or Salt Kheum vanish before it. It euros sore lips, chapped hands, chilblains, lnlallible for plies. 25 cents at all druggists. For Asthma use CHENEYS EX PECTORANT. Notice of Removal. Until my new quarters are ready for occupancy 1 wlil share the office with Mr. C. W. Dernlng, next door to Dr. Burrought on Newcastle street. C. H. JEWETT. Something new—-quinine shampoo for ladies Get It at Clark’s barber s^op., OCTOBER 5. THE NEW MUSICAL COMEDY CUednesday, Oet 8. THE OTHER EELLOW with HARRY WEST The German Dialect. Comedian and jiis COMPANY OF COMEDIANS. Prices 29, 50 and 75, Sound Kidneys—Perfect Health. The use of Smith’s Sure Kidney Hire will produce both. Try a bottle and be convinced. Your druggist sella it for 50" Swan’s down flour, absolutely pure; try it. For La Grippe and Influenza use CHENEY’S EXPECTORANT Miss Kate Slater wishes to call the attention of the ladies to her new fancy work in battenberg and reuaa aunce work. W. M. TUPPER & CO., Forwarding and Shipping Agenta. Lighterage, Towing and Marine In surance. Cori esponaence Solicited. BRUNSWICK, GA. Page Woveß Work Fence is the strongest fence in the world. C. W. DEMING, Agent. Out of Death’s Jaws. “When death seemed very nerr from a severe stomach and liver trouble, that I had suffered with for years," writes P. Muse, Durham, N. C., “Dr. King’s New Fife Pills saved my life and gave perfect health.” Best pills on earth and only 25 cents at all druggists. Swan’s Down flour Is he best. Miss Kate Slater has the newest ready to wear hats, the Kroinico. Call and see them. * ASK FOR ROB ROY FLOUR. Swans Down flour. A SINKING FUND must be provided for the maintenance of some plumbing work. Its original condition was bad and it is in constant need of repairs. If the system Is sot extensive bet ter have it pulled out and MODERN PLUMBING sustituted. Our work is of a high order, and repairs will not be neces sary until" the first cost has been made repaid. An estimate costs notning, but will throw much light on charges. A. H . B AKER, 205 Gloucester, Street.