Newspaper Page Text
Columbia Jjirnlincl.
MB rtr -asr. . a —• •
HARLEM. Gl ORS.I A
PVIH IHIKt) *l7 >' / 111 A'/M >'
Ballard «*• A.ilaluaon,
I'KOI'IIIETOIU*
One nationality* meal may another**
poison. A* an cx|HTiinent, n company
of Japanese *oldicr» wete fed on bread
and soup, with an addition of l»cef at
•upper, I 4 one month. At the end of
that time each man find io»t in weight
from three to seven imuiid*. Imagine a
< •i.,|>mvof Anri i in soldier* submitting
to lx* (<■ I ou rice for a month, a* an e»-
p rim- tit, t tough!
The Montana new«p*|>er» report that
all the woo lyard* in that territory < n the
Missouri river tire now controlled by
Indiana, an 1 the price of the wood haa
ln-en fixed nt $3 per < or I for < ttlonwood
and $1 for asli, ami < tsh must be paid.
Any captain whoatu mpta to get wood
for lo** than there figures, or who "stand*
the alt tr.gnea off," i* reported. No
white man is allowed to cut ami sell
wood on th" reservation.
The Wool Journal says it does not
kn >w u single argument in favor of
sheep w ishing. The practice was inau
gurate I nt an early day, mid it is a relict
of oi 1 tim •*, when the wool shorn from
tin- sin ni 11. k< ii th- Eastern States
wt< I irg -!y ii* dupat h line. Thon it
wa- !>■•«<• ity towash either Ircforc or
aft-r hh'-aring, to prepare it for carding
or spinning. Tho*: day* aro past, and
b Ah th< ‘in-up and their owners ought
to bo glad of it.
It is a statement worth thinking on,
•ays an ex< linnge, that “the man who
pliici ■ a ton dollar advertisement in his
lo< -:l paper and flutters himself that he is
a IIIm tiil advertiser, will bi- surprised to
learn that a yearly advertisement one
column in length, in the Chicago Tribunt
costa the advertiser $25,000. The New
York II -raid receives for its lowest col
umn $33,000, and for tha highest
(334,000; and those papers, it is stated,
are never at loss for advertising to till up
their columns."
Tin fence quasi on is one of great
importance, as we have in the United
htilrr (J 00 1,000 miles of fences, which
have cost nearly $1,000,000,000, and
have to be renewed nearly every fifteen
years. It, however, interests most of
tin- farmers, who havo the bulk of tlio
labor to |M-rform, and cxminsi* to meet
and tho timber to furnish for their con
struction. The consumption of the lim
it' r for this purpose interests every phil
anthropist. It is reported that Ken
tucky requires annually 10,000,000 of
tree* to keep up her national fence, tha
old Virginia rail.
There is going to boa prohibition
town in South Africa. An English
newspaper relates that eighty emigrants,
all total ulistainors, an- being sent out to
Kassi iriu. Each of the number is to
have 120 acres of laud and other help,
and the 1 ttlc band bus been aelccted
with the greatest care. If one of the
most Iwautitul and richly gifted portions
of South Africa be any aid to tho Mice -as
i f this enterprise, tho prospects of tho
<-xpedition arc virtually assured. Kaf
iraria is beyond question tho moat fa
vored spot in South Africa, It abounds
in wood, grass mid water, nod is emi
nently U'lapte.l for tin- raising of stock as
well as for agriculture.
It Is said that the slums of Berlin are
worm' it pos-ible than either those of
Paris oi Loudon, in tin- German c apital
.« small number of houses am occupied
by one or two families, but the great
m ijority contain more Twenty five
hun<ir<«si contain from 10 to 20 Io ping*,
23,000 from 20 to 30 lodging*, 10,000
over 30 lodgings cash. Seventy-five
thousand of tliesu lodgings are composed
of on< room only and inhabited by no
fewer than 270,000 persons, which is an
average of nearly four |xr-on* per room;
73,000 other lodgin ;s an- c imposed of
two i xtrns iuid occupied by 300,000 in
habitants, while the remaining 30,000
lodging* are formed of three rooms, in
habited by 140,000 people. In tho
poorer quarter the houses are so packed
together as to It almost deprived of
Hght. __________
An rxlmoriinarr murunj ha* be<*n
tqtened in the Hur Viwque’in. in Paria.
It eonfcfitulvs the ucw be ;ui quarters of M.
or, and here are to be found cow
bouei-a, stiecpfiddn, fowlwalks, rabbit
hutches and dog kennels. They are all,
moverover, hilly occupied, tin one floor
>* a laboratory, w here the vaccine kou|W
and preparations are made up. Above it
a ninm-um, where specimen* conntxlcd
with the new cure art exhibited. There
are operating rooms and ro*xn* for post
mortem tuv, atigatums and dissecting pur
pose*. Two of tfn kcam-ls are devoted
to dog* tn various interesting •Cage* of
early or advanced rabbir*. "Hen cholera'
it communicated, watched and cured in
the fowl- house. The cattle exhibit va
rious ajog'-tt of vaccination. Human be
ing* have also their provided quarter. A
•paciou* wa ting room i* set apart for
patient*, who troop iu daily in pic
turesque group.-* repr.-sent ng all nation
nil ties.
A Central American w riter «ay«: “The
most beautiful tree 1 have ever seen ia
the m ingo. It is thepe feet ideal of a
trie, from 50 to Tibet iuluight, and
spreading it* dark g <• in, feathery foliage
over a < ireuaiferem e of 15) feet. It*
shade is so den«-i that no ray of the
fieri est tropical sou ever strikes the sjiot
over which it st .nd* guard. It* long,
drooping bough* give it the xha)xt of a
huge uin irella of never-fading verdure.
One tre< will bear from 3,000 to 5,000
mangoes .it a time. The fruit, which is
heart or kidir-y-s!ia|e' I. weigh* from half
a pound to a |hiuu<l. It has a akin like
a p Hui, and is it bright golden yellow
when ripe. It> flavor I* a combination
of something like our plum, |x-ach,
apple and grape, with a decidedly resin
ous tinge. When < >oked it makes a
delicious 'Central American apple sauce,’
unlike anything wo have in tho United
State*."
The steam whistle upon the locomotive,
say* n mechanical journal, is always an
object of interest. Each road lias it*
series of signal*. The difference in the
sound of the whistle is made by tho
height of the b-11. When it is low, tho
whistle is sharp. The whistle bells are
regulated to somccxtcnt by the height of
the locomotive*. How steam whistles
are keyed: "There,” said the work
man, taking down n peculiar looking
casting, "is th part that rests on the
plate; the steam comes up through it
from the boiler At. this point is the
valve. Into this dumber the steam
enti-ri. Above thia is tho bell. The
steam escapes around this narrow orifice
nnd strike* this upper bell; the con
struction is very unpin; the operation
n i '-.«,iry lor tin- steam to rniike the
im-chanism Whistle is just that which is
requisite when y>u whistle ugain*t the
blade of your knife."
The Washington correspondent of the
Cleveland f.’inlri-, an/l Herald say* tho
foreign diplont de< at the national capital
ar - better paid than our minister* ut for
eign courts. Th- B.itisli minister occu
pies one of the biggest houses in Wush
inton, end one which has more roomi
than the White House. He has nn al
lowance for entertaining, and he receives
a salary of $33,000 a year. The German
nation owns a house there, and its min
ister gets (40,000 a yenr. The Japanese
ininistci receives $20,000 yearly, and he
I* one o' the most valuable men in the
diplomatic circles. Tho wealthiest for
eign minister is the repretentative of
t'liina. who always goes iilMiut in Chinese
costume, and who has the reputation of
being a great statesman at home. This
man is Chang Yin Iluan, and his father
was when he diod one of the richest men
in China. Air. Huan has a half score of
aluiond-eyed celestials to help him, and
he pay* SII,OOO n yenr for house rent.
The Turkish minister wears English
clothes nnd n red fez cap when he ap
pears on state occasions. He is a dark
haired, dark-skinned mm, with oriental
features. He lives much of the time in
New York, and his salary is $40,000
yearly. Baron de Struve, the Russian
minister, is put down as getting $30,000
yearly. He is a very abb’ min.
—— >
Two Booms al tho White House.
The young wife's room is the scene of
continued gayety during the hours when
the President is attending to affairs of
•lute. How different tho apartment
which adjoins on the west I Visitors
have often notic- l that the room is never
opened. The curtains are tightly drawn
and no one ever thinks of crossing its
thre-hold. It was iuthis room that Gar
field lived for months, torture ! by Assas
sin GuiU-au’s bullet, while a nation hoped
and prayed for a recovery that never
came. Tho room is almost precisely as
it was tho day when Garfield was taken
from it and carried to Elberon, where ho
breathed his last. President Arthur had
u horror of the place. He gave orders
that it rhou'd remain untouched as long
os he was in the White House, and these
orders were utrictly obeyed. President
Cleveland has said nothing upon the topic
** yet, but it is understood that he, too,
is loath to break the silence of that room
which witnessed *o much suffering dur
ing the long and wearis me summer
months of 1881. The contrast between
the two room* ia a most notable one
life and dentil could furnish no stronger.
—Trattllet.
A Hnmorlat in the Bud.
A pupil read the expression, "Arm* of
these.*," in a v ry vague fashion.
"What do you meat; -anything given
ia charity I"
"No, m'm."
"Fire-arm*, perhapsf"
‘'Y.s, ni’m. ’
"Will you tell me (this rather impa
tiently) any explosives frena the seal"
"Shells."
He was ret to the head in language.
G illantry.
Young Feathvrly had b-cn Imparting
some information to Mr*. De Towner
which tnt< rested that lady very much.
"1 am quite surpr.sed, Mr. Peatherly,"
•he said, "to hear of this. It only
shows tha*— hat—"
"One is never too old to learn!"
prompted Feathcrly, gallantly.— liar
frtr't Ba:ar.
Song of tha Harvaat,
Tha glad barvast grant* u*— brars toiler for
bread,
Good '-hear' tho prospect i« brighter ahaad.
Like magic, the plentiful eundiine and rein
Have rip-no 1 our million* of a<-rm of grain:
(nd the jeionait, the wolf may keep from bis
door,—-
There'll lei tn-eail and to spare another year
more.
Ho sing merrily, merrily,
As we gather it in;
We wilt store it away gladly,
I n garner and bin.
We hailed with delight, yet tempered with
fear.
The corn a* it grew from tt.e blivle to the
l*-sf haply, though large is the surplus in
store,
That bread might be dearer for twelve
months or more;
Hut the sunshine and rain, bow they ripened
the grain
That waited the sickle over hillside and
plain!
Ho sing merrily, merrilv,
-vs we gather it in;
We will store it away gladly,
In garner and bin.
< >h, ne’er let us qu -stion the Wisdom that
guide*.
Our feet in green pastures, and for us pro
vides;
Who now, a* aforetime, His glory displays.
In the Isiunty that crowns our autumnal
days;
D't the glad tidings echo th*-continent o’er,
Thera II Ire bread and to spare another year
nt ore!
Ho sing merriiy, merrily,
As we gather it in ;
We will store it away gladly,
In garner and bin.
Henry S. Washburn.
A HERMIT’S STORY.
A rc< cut Newberne (N. C.) letter to
the Philadelphia Timss gives the sub
joined interesting story of a hermit’s life:
In 1815, just 71 years ago, John Arm
strong was born near Wilmington, in this
State. He was the only son of a well-to
do farmer, and received an ordinary
common school education. At 20 years
of age he becatn - enamored of a young
woman named (.’ u ric Scott, daughter of
a farmer who came from Virginia and
who purchased the land adj ining the
farm of Armstrong’s father. John’s love
seemed to have been reciprocated, and
he lived on in blissful anticipation of a
happy future.
For two years he was assiduous in his I
attention, and the wedding day was
finally decided upon. There was no
happier man in the State of North Carolina
than John Armstrong. The eventful day .
arrived; John arose early, arrayed him
self in his wedd ng suit, and, in company
with a few invited guests, set out for the
home of his expected bride. On the way
ho was met by a colored servant, who, in
a few words told him that Miss Carrie had
been married at 7 o'clock that morning
to a Northern gentleman by the name of
Samuel O[Mlyke, and had started on a
wedding journey North in a carriage.
For amoment Armstrong was paralyzed
with astonishment, but presently recov
ering his self-possession, he looked about
him upon his wondering group of sym
pathetic spectators. Then, without
uttering a word, he put spurs to his horse
and leaving his guests still in the road,
soon disappeared in the distance. He j
was never seen again in the neighbor
hood, and, although every effort was
made to discover his whereabouts, they
invariably proved futile, nnd finally the
community settled down to the beilef
that he had committed suicide.
Years passed away and tho circum
stance was forgotten. His father and
mother died, and, although John was the
legitimate heir to the estate, an uncle
took charge of the farm until he should
be found. One day during the war a
Federal officer, to escape capture by a
scouting party of Confederate cavalry,
took refuge in a swamp. In wandering
about he became bewildered and pene- J
(rated still deeper into the gloomy I
recesses of the groat forest. He suddenly |
came face to face with a man armed with
an ordinary shotgun.
"Hullo, stranger! who be you?"
“A soldier who has lost his way,”
replied the officer, seeing that conceal
ment of his position was impossible.
"Not one o’ us, I guess! ’ queried the
man.
"No, I'm an officer in the Federal
army."
“Wall, stranger, I'm no killer, though
I'm mighty strong agin thar Yankees.
What might yer name be I"
"Samuel Opdyke."
The man started back and cocked his
gun. “Opdyke—Opdyke—the scoun
drel who married Carrie S.-ott and de
stroyed my happiness."
“I did marry Carrie Scott —married her
because I loved her. But who are you,
that you should get so excited over the
matter P*
"Me-—me—why, I'm John Armstrong,
who courted that 'ar gal, and she vowed
she loved me better than anything else in
the world; but she deceived me; her
heart was hollow; she was false to me
and I have my revenge." And he raised
his gun and pulled the trigger, and Cap
tain Samuel O|»dyke fell dead at his feet.
In relating this the old man—for he
h meelf told the story —became terribly
agitated, and rubbed hi* hands iu appar
ent fiendish exultation. "Ah!" said he,
"that were a moment of sweet revenge."
For awxrly fifty years he has lived alone
in the North Carolina forests. He deter
mined, when the servant on that fatal
morning brought him the startling and
bitter intelligence that his would-be
bride had violated her promise, to forever
turn his back on humanity. The cabin
in which lie live* he built himself. It i*
in the gloomiest and remotest solitude of
the forest, and were it not for the little
garden he cultivates, thus evidencing the
existence of civilization, would be a dis
mal abode indeed. He endeavors to avoid
the society of men as much as possible,
and is exceedingly annoyed that his hid
ing place has become known. H< wa*
accidentally discovered by a party of
hunter*. He is still vigorous for his age,
and although his hair and long, flowing
beard arc white as snow, he walks erect
and with an elastic, buoyant ktep. When
hedoe* condescend to talk he is cheerful
and entertaining in his conversation, but
studiously avoids any reference to the
female sex. He avers that he has not
seen or spoken to a woman for the past
thirty years, and hm never seen n rail
road cur or steamboat. He knows com
paratively little of the incidents of every
day life going on in the outside world.
He is a constant reader of religious and
scientific works and an ardent student of
natural history. II: has a magnificent
collection of specimens in the entomo
logical world, embracing bug*, beetles
butterflies. He can tell correctly tie
name and habit of every insect native to
the neighborhood. He is also an expert
with the penknife. Since his abode has
become known the boys bring him to
bacco, knick-knacks, etc., in exchange for
which he gives them crosses, hearts,
whistles, <fcc., which he makes from beef
bones. These he carves with an ordinary
knife and file, though the wo-k is slow
and tedious. He is contemplating mov
■ng to more secluded quarters, and it will
not be surprising if some morning the
boys will search for John Armstrong in
vain.
Baubles in Washington.
"The fellow that looks like me” is the
cause of no inconsiderable amusement
to several men in public life. Blaine’s
double lives here in 'Washington. He
has the same pronounced nose, the same
bulging eyes and the same whits beard,
but he is not quite as -tout a* Maine’s
plumed citizen. The two are very often
confounded. The double is the princi
pal of one of the largest private schools
in this section of the country. It is no l
a difficult matter to find a double for
President Cleveland. Indeed several of
them have turned up in Washington.
The closest resemblance is found in
the rotund and jolly person of Lawrence
Gardner, Esq., a well-known insurance
man of the District of Columbia, and the
president of the Columbia Club. Mr-
Gardner is frequently mistaken for the
president, and so many men take off
their hats when they see him that he al
ways gracefully acknowledges the salu
tations, not as a compliment to tho ex
ecutive of the nation, but as slight testi
monials to his own moral worth. There
is nothing mean about Mr. Gardner, and
he is willing to weai out new hats if the
mistaken public thinks he ought to.
During Mr. Arthur’s administration a
certain officer of the army used to walk
up and down Pennsylvania avenue and
receive the respectful homage of those
who were not intimately acquainted with
the president. Strangers often followed
him for several squares, fully convinced
that they were escorting the president of
the United States on one of his afternoon
strolls. Two members of the house arc
very much alike in personal appearance.
They are Pat Collins of Massachusetts,
and Martin Clardy of Missouri. Both
are democrats, and a short distance away
they are alike as two peas. To make the
deception still more striking, they dress
precisely alike. They wear gray suits
evidently from the same piece, and their
straw hats are tipped down over their
eyes at precisely the same angle Even
their narrow black cravats are tied
uiikc, with tke long ends flying down
over their shirt bosoms.— Raton Trave'- i
ler.
Blown Into Fame.
C. B. Lewis (better known as "M.
Quad”) is perhaps the most unique and
genuine humorist this country has pro
duced, excepting only Artemus Ward
and Hosea Biglow. It is not generally
known when or where he was born, nor
is it a matter of much consequence, since
hi* career did not begin till he was blown
up, sonic 15 years ago, on an Ohio river
steamboat. He is, perhaps, the only ex
ample of a man who has been lifted into
fame by being tossed 100 feet into the
the air, and coming down, more dead
than a ive, to tell the story. He did
this. Standing at his printer's case,
when he was so far recovered as to limp
about, he put into type "How it feels to
be blown up,” and the whole wst burst
into laughter. That laughter made “M.
Q i.i'i” f.<m u*. He was then transferred
from the com|x>**ing room to the editorial
de a tmeut. and ever since shortextr. cts
from the Free Frees have been copied
nlo everv ><>* n u throughout the coun
try. — Hirper. _______
Aristotle doth affirm that the true na
ture of riches doth consist in the con
tented u e and enjoyment of the things
we have, rather than iu the possession of
them.
I GREAT SALT LAKE.
Difficul ties of Swimming in its
Saline Waters.
The *lnhap o? a Young Lxdy ’ho At
tempted a Natatorial Feat.
A Utah letter to the Chicago Inter-
Orran say*: I did not anticipate any
advantage in cither way, but I lacKed
' the moral courage to turn away and con
fess I had s en Great Salt Lake without
I taking a bath in its celebrated waters.
Whi.e I stood on the long platform de
liberating as to the style of debut most
I impressive for a ’all, thin man, with a
bathing suit built for one whose propor
tions were lalitndinal rather than longi
tudinal, un-idcal of beauty stepped from
i the next dresdng room, and, conscious
of her loveliness and its power of attrac
; tion, stop]>ed a moment on the stairs
to survey the field before making the I
I plunge. Could she swim? Like a
mermaid, I'd have wagered my last
nickel. She was from one of Chicago's j
suburbs, and had cut the waters of Gen
eva Lake like one of the finny tribe that
makes their home there; she had plunged
into the surf at Long Branch, and sported
in the warm water of the Japan current
on the Pacific coast. She was an expert
swimmer, but neither mermaids nor finny
tribes inhabit Great Salt Lake. It is a
dead sen, where nothing in the animal
or vegetable kingdom finds life. Its
waters are nearly one-fourth pure salt,
and its specific gravity six times greater
1 than the ocean. It is as buoyant as a
rubber ball, but the beauty had not been
i told all this and did not discover the
true nature of her surroundings until
1 after she had made the almost fatal
plunge. The water did not receive her
form in a loving embrace, but repulsed
her familiarity. Her body rebounded a*
though it had struck a great rubber ball,
her heels went into the air and then she
took a header, with eyes, mouth and
nostrils open wide with surprise. The
water is like brine, and this dive was a
terrible experience to the mermaid of the
cast. She strangled and without prompt
j help would have drowned. She said it
was like swallowing a great gulp of lye.
I profitted by the experience, and was
satisfied to wade until I found it required
no effort at all to float, which is the only
swimming attempted in Great Salt Lake.
The water is too heavy to make any
progress in swimming. When Paul Boyn
ton wins here he found that with his
rubber suit on he could swim with great
| difficulty, since the buoyancy of the
water prevented his body from sinking
into it enough to make a successful
stroke. He met with an experience
somewhat similar to the young lady men
tioned, and in a little gale accidentally
got some of the salt water into his mouth
and nostrils. Ho strangled and was res
cued by two young men in about. Leaving
the lake you find in your dressing room
a large pail of fresh water for another
bath, without which you will present an
appearance not unlike that of Lot's wife
after she disobeyed the command not to
look back. These baths are really in
toxicating, and many invalids are here
for medical aid, and Salt Lake physicians
say there arc not more invigorating baths
anywhere in the country. The waters of
the Dead Sea hold more minerals in so
lution than do those of the Great Salt
Lake, but there is nothing to equal this
anywhere else. It is six times more salt
than the ocean, and, as I said, tastes like
brine; but it looks as clear as do the
waters of Lake Michigan, only a darker
green when viewed as a great body.
Meat and Heat.
Those who would seek to lessen their
suffering from the heat, if given to over
indulgences at the table, must certainly
practice some denial of its pleasures-
In this connection it is interesting to
note that many cases of sunstroke occur
shortly after dinner. It were far better ■
for those in health to dispense with ani
mal food entirely during the summer,
or, at least, to indulge but sparingly in
it There is reason to believe that the
dietic value of meat is very generally over
estimated. Many people consider it
almost the only food capable of sustain
ing nutrition and supplying muscular
strength. The fallacy of this belief has !
been proved by many experiments. A
discussion of this subject is not essential
in this connection. In digression, it
may be said that, if the American peo
ple, who as a nation are noted for their
eating propensities, were to more largely
subsist on fish, better health wou dbe
by them enjoyed and longer life pro
moted. The appetite would be as well
satisfied, nutrition be fully sustained,
and disease less prevalent. During the •
summer season, at least, fish should be
largely substituted for animal food.
Fresh vegetables and good, ripe fruit in
moderation are essentials to a wholesome
dietary. This radical change in the
habits of many will not only lessen their '
sufferings from the heat, but all who ac
cept of the innovation will enjov far bet
ter health, and secure a certain immunity
from many of the attacks peculiar to the
hottest months.— Boston Herald.
The blessing* of fortune era the low
est; the next »ro the bodily advantages
of strength and health, but the superla
tive blessings, in fine, are those of the
mind.
CHILDREN’S COLUMN,
S'.lrut Prraehrr*.
Are yon weary of your labors!
Docs your work seem han, to-day*
"I t&il looser than my neighbors!”
Grumbdng often, do you say!
learn of God's m »t bumble creatures
Make the bees and ants your teachers—
Ilusy toilers, silent preachers
And, glad hearted, workaway!
XVhst the Fowl* I>id.
Little Miry Dale, who lived in Lon
don, hail been very ill. She win n j lle
years old, bat so small of her age, y ou
would tcjrc.'ly have taken her to be
I seven.
She had grown so pale nnd thin that
| the Doctor said she must be taken away
into the country or she would not get
well. So her mamma had some pretty
pink print frocks and a Bun-bonuet
made, and took her to large farmh ollS r.
Here she stayed all the summer. Hei
, great delight was to feed the fowls and
■ ducks, and the little fluffy chicken-,
i Oh, how pleased she was one day to find
i a nest full of large bluish-looking egg*
■ which belonged to Mrs. Duck. And
j now I am going to tell you something ]
I am afraid you will hardly believe, and
yet it is quite true.
A woman was catching fowls to semi
' to market, and Mary, of course, was
helping her, and thought it great fun.
They struggled hard to get free; at last
they fluttered and spread out their wings
so much that they actually fled, taking
| Mary with them, right over a low wall
into a little field bsyond. Mary was not
hurt, nor even much frightened, but so
startled that she let go the fowls. Thoj
were very much alarmed, and you may be
sure took care not to be caught again
that day.— Little Oicn's Own.
“Pride Come* Before n Fall.—A Fable,**
I A lump of clay, aud the end of a wax
I candle found themselves, by some
j strange chance, side by side one summer
| day, on a dust-heap.
"I wonder you have the assurance to
lie so close to me!” said the dainty wax
sneeringly; “a great, common lump of
slay I and I have been on a fine lady’s,
dressing-table.”
“Ah!” said the clay, humbly; “we
are fellow-sufferers in adversity; we must
make the best we can of it. I ought,
properly, to have been in yonder brick
field."
“AVhat a comedown for me!” moaned
the candle. “It does not signify what
becomes of you.”
The clay wisely held his tongue. And
the strangely-assorted cotnpadlons in
misfortune dropped in.o silence.
“I wish it was a little warmer,” said
the clay to himself.
“Dear me, how hot it is getting!''
grumbled the wax-candle.
Presently, the sun grew hotter and
hotter, and the piece of wax candle
gradually melted away.
But the clay only became harder ami
firmer than ever.
Thus it is, the hopeful and self-reliant,
when tried by the heat of adversity,
come out of the fire the stronger anil
firmer. But the weak and worthies*
pass into obscurity, nnd are no more
heard of.— Astley U. Baldwin.
A Fashionable Mistake.
He had been to the city and wont
home brimful of news.
"You 'member the Smiths?” he asked
his wife, ‘‘th’ Silver Crik Smiths, them
as got rich on the’r gran’feythcr’s
money.”
Yes, she remembered them.
“I seen ’em. They’re way up; live in
a gran’ house on a street they call ’thave
noo.’ They ride in a double kerriage
and have no end of money.”
She said she s’posed as much.
“But, dumb sakes! ’Afandy, you
wouldn’t want ter change places with
hvr. I see her a minnit an’ I didn't hev
the heart to speak t’ her.”
She said she’d like to know why
stuck up thing!
“No, she ain’t, Mandy, not now.
She’s bin humbled rite down to thf
dust. She's as blind as a bat.”
B.ind! She guessed not.
"But she is. Fust, she didn’t kno
me—me that's rid down hill and played
tag with her when she warn’t knee-high
to a turkey. Then, Mandy, tho’ her
eyes were wide open, she went rite along
the streets all dressed up in fine close,
and a leetle mite of a dog was leading
her along. He was tied to a streeng,
and she had hold of tother end of the
streeng. Now, Manly, how’d you like
to be her?"— Detroit Free Brest.
Why the Grocer Didn’t Grin.
Balston, the grocer, calls upon Juckle*
and, while in the drawing-room, Juckles
little boy comes in and says:
“You ain't got a bird like we have,"
(pointing at a cage).
"Balston—That’s a fact, my little
man.
Boy—His name uster be Jim tell w"
guntre trade with you, an’ since then,
pa has been callin’ him Balston.
Balston—Ah. and why docs he do
that?
Boy—Pa says he calls the bird B d'ton
because he's always got such a big biH-
Funny, ain’t it?
Balston says that it is very funny, but
he knows that when the next monthlr
account i* made out somebody is going
to suffer.— Arkateaw Traveller.