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FAW NING^ TO NONE-'CIS ARITY TO ALL.
VOLUME VIII.
DOUGLASVILLE, GEORGIA. TUESDAY MAY 18.-188(5.
’NUMBER gS
Church Directory.
METHODIST.—Douglasvili.e—First, tb » s
tnd fifth Sundays.
; Salt Speinss—Saconif Sunday, ar d Satnr<la>
before.
Midway—Fourth Sunday, and Satnrdav :
fore. W. IT FIOIE, Tastor.
Baptist—Douglasville, first and fourth Sun
days. Kev. A. J3. Vaughn, pastor.
Masonic,
Doufilasville Lodge, No. 289, F, A. M. t meeta
on Saturday night before the lh*st and third
Sundays in each month. J. R. Carter, W. Mm
W. J. Camp, Secy.
County Directory.
Ordinary—H. T. Cooper.
Clerk—S. N. Dorsett, 1
Sheriff—Henry Ward,
, Deputy Sheriff—O. M. Souter.
Tax Receiver—E. H. Camp.
Tax Collector—\V. A. Sayer.
Treasurer—Samuel Shannon.
Surveyor—John M Huey. i
Coroner—F. M. Mitehel).
SUI’ERIOU COURT.
Meets on third Mondays in January and Julj 1
and holds two weeks, g
Judge—Hon. Samson W. Harris.
Sol. Genl.—Hon. Harry M. lleid.
Clerk—S. N. Dorsett.
Sheriff—Henry Ward.
COUNTS COURT.
Meets in quarterly session on fourth Mon
days in February, May, August and November
and holds until all the cases on the docket are
oalled. In monthly session it meets on fourth
Mondays in each month,
1 Judge—Hon„ B. A. Massev.
'Sol. Genl.—Hon. W. T. Boberte
Bailiff—D. W. Johns.
ORDINARY'S COURT
Meets for ordinary purposes on first Mondaj - ,
and for county purposes on first Tuesday in
each month.
Judge—Hon. H. T. Copper.
JUSTICES COURTS.
730th Dist. G. M. meets first Thursday in each
month. J. L Feely, J. P.,. W. H. Cash, N. P.,
D. W. Johns and W. K. Hunt, L. C.
736th Dist. G. M., meets second Saturday.
A B. Bomar, J. P,, jB. A. Arnold, N. P., S. C.
Yeager, L. C.
784th Dial. G. M. meets fourth Saturday.
Franklin Carver, J. P., C. B. Baggett, N. P.,
J. C. James and M. S. Gore, L. Cs.
1269th Dist, G. M. meets third Saturday. T.
M. Hamilton. J.P., M. L. Yates, N. MS W.
Biggers, L.C., S. J. Jourdan, L . C.
1260th Dist., G. M. meets third Satnrdav. N.
W. Camp, J. P., W. S. Hudson, N. P. 'j. A.
Hill, L. p.
1271st Dist. G. M. meets first Saturday. . C.
C. Chilton, J. P. Alberry Hembree; N. P.,
-,;L.;0-y
1272ud Dist. G. M. meets fourth Friday.
Geo. W, Smith, J. P., C. J. Bobinson, N. P.,
—■——, L. C.
1273rdDiat. G. 31 meets third Friday. Thos,
White, J. P., A. J. Bowen, ff. P., W. J.'Harbin,
LuC, ...
Professional Cards.
ROBERT A. SVSASSEY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
DODGLASVILLE, GA.
(Office in front room, Dorsett’s Building./ i
Will practice anywhere except in the Countj I
Court of Douglass county.
in 7SesT”“ j
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Will practice in all the courts. Slate aD
Federal. Office on Court House Square,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
m. T. ROBERTS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in all the Courts. All lega
Business will receive prompt attention. Office
in Court Hpuse.
c. X>. CAMP,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in all the courts. Ail business
«ntrusted to him will receive prompt Attention,
B, G. GRIGGS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in all the courts, State and
Federal.
JOHN M, EDGE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in all the courts, and promptly
attend to all business entrusted to his care.
j. s. mis,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in the courts of Douglass,
Campbell, Carroll, Paulding, Cobb, Frtlton and
adjoining counties. Prompt attention given
to all business.
J. H. McLaRTY,
iTTORNEY AT LAW.
DOUGLASVlIJ.E, GA.
Will practice ifi alt the courts, both State and
Federal. Collections a specialty.
JOHN V. EDGE!
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
m
JOB PRINTING
NEATLY DONE
AT THE “STAR” OFFICE
The Difference.
! Tis easy to be brave
"When the world is on our side;
When nothing is to fear,
Fearless to bide.
’Tis easy to hope,
When all goes well;
When the sky is clear,
Fine weather to foretell.
But to hope when all’s despaired,
And be brave when we are scared,—
That’s another thing, my dear!
And will'd o to tell.
^-Anthony Mtyi'ehe cut in the Century,
AS EASTER GUT.
“No,” said Uncle Zebedee, “no; we
told ’em just exactly bow ’twould be.
Tbey wouldn’t believe us. Now let ’em
take the consequences.”
“We warned ’em .beforeband,” said.
Aunt Zeruiah. “They couldn’t expect
nothin’ fairer than that.”
Uncle Zeb and Au nt'Buev . sat looking
at each other, one on either side of the
big stone fireplace, like the old man and.
woman we sometimes see' tetera-tete in a
toy-shop.
They were ancient and weazen and
wrinkled—so thin that it would seem as
if an extra blast from the brass-nozzled
bellows must assuredly blow them away,
while their spectacles shone like stray
stars from some unheard-of constellation,
and the veins stood out like whip-cord
from their lean old hands.
Uncle Zeb .Waterson and Aunt Ruey,
his sister; were old batehelor and old
maid.* All their lives long th^y had
been saving and scrimping and pinching:,
as if economy were the mainspring of
their existence. They never saw a red
apple with any appreciation of its artistic
beauty; they thought of it only as being
worth so much a barrel; the corn silked
and ta-sseled out only as so much “prime
Indian-mealthe pink-and-white elover-
heads represented only pasturage value,
and the . star-eyed daisies were nothing
more than “pesky weeds, that no critter
on airth would eat.”
And when,, eight years’^gdjgtlieir half-
sister Nelly,had run away—actually , run
away from four dollars a month, and her
board-—to marry a black-eyed sailor lad
die, Uncle Zeb and Aunt Ruey had wash
ed their skinny; hands of her altogether.
Alas and alack-a-dav! Love proved
but a fickle reed for Hal and Nelly Ar-
bush to lean on. The young sailor was
lost on the first voyage out after his mar
riage, and Nelly was left to support her
child as best she might. -
It was an uneven battle between life’s,
troubles and the poor young widow, and
when Nelly died, the little girl was sent
home to Spriggerdale, with a pitiful let
ter from the young mother whose sun had
set so early.
But Uncle Zeb and Aunt Ruey abso
lutely declined to receive Nell. |
“She ain’t nothin’ to us,” said Uncle
Zeb.
“Let her go to Hal Arbush’s relations!”
said Aunt Ruey. “Eh! he hadn’t no re
lations? Well, I ain’t to blame for that,
as I know of.”
“You wouldn’t let this child go on the
town,” said Mr. Jones, the express-agent,
to whose care little Nell had been con
signed as if she were a brown-paper pack
age.
“Yes, I would!” said Uncle Zeb.
“Why not?” said Aunt Ruey, bluntly.
So Nell was taken, with her little
bandbox full of clothes, to the ^town-
house.
The matron looked puzzled—she had
no charges 1 so young as Nell—but she
kissed the child, and gave her a piece of
ginger-bread and some patchwork, and
told her to be a good girl.
Nell played about until she was tired,
and then came to the matron with wist
ful, upturned gaze.
“When am I going home?” said she.
“This is home,’’ said the matron.
Nell’s lip quivered; her blue -eyes
swam-in tears.
“I don’t like it!” said she. “I don’t
want to live here! Mamma said I was to
go home at Easter!”
“What does, the child mean?” said the
bewildered matron.
“Don’t you know?” said Nell. “First
comes Christmas—then Easter? And
mamma said I was to go home at Easter. ”
“We don’t have Easters here—-except
now and again a few colored eggs,” said
the good matron. “This is home, my
dear; so put all of that nonsense out of
your head.”
But Nell cried, and refused to be com
forted.
“Can I go and play?’’ said she, after a
little while, with the tears yet on her
lashes.
“Yes—in the back yard, as much as
you please,” said the kindly matron.
“I don’t like the back yard,” said fas
tidious Nell. “It’s all full of brick-bats
and tomato-cans, and broken bottles that
won’t hold anything. I want to go in
the woods.” .1
“Well, dan’t go far, then,” said ths
matron, who was busy, mixing lime for
the spring white-washing, and perhaps
was a little relieved, to be rid of Nell’s
perpetual questionings.
Boaway went little Nell, her white
cambric sunboimet fluttering in the daily
April wind, down into the dells, where
the first pallid violets were thrusting
their purple heads up through layers of
moist, dead leaves; ., and a tender fringe
of green followed the course of the rivu
let, the happiest little lass that the .Sun
ever shone on,
“I wish 1 could stay here always, apd
live in a cave, and eat berries and sassa
fras-buds, and drink water from the
brook!” thought Nell. “I don’t want to
go back to the town-house, where Uncle
Tim makes faces at me, and old Mrs.
Hatch’s hand shakes so that she spills
her tea all over the table. ”
But the afternoon wore on—Saturday
afternoon, always the busiest of the week
—and Mrs, Gaff, the matron, began to
be uneasy about the youngest inhabitant
of the town-house. 7
■“She can’t be drowned; for the brook
isn’t deep enough,” said Mrs. Gaff. ‘ ‘But
I s’poso a strange child could be lost, in
them woods. I’m a’most sorry now I let
her go. Ef she ain’t hack by dark, I’ll
send Foolish Frank after her. I guess
he’s got sense enough to bring her home
if he finds her.”, -
- Uncle Zeb and Aunt Ruey Waterson
were sitting at their supper—a pot of
weak tea, some bread and butter, and a
dish of stewed peaches—when the door
Opened softly, and in came a little girl of
five years old, with a suribonnet flung
back from her brown curls, and her apron
full of pale-pink arbutiri, slender-stemm
ed wild-flowers and blue violets.
Aunt Ruey started back.
“It’s Nelly!’-’ said she, startled at the
wonderful Resemblance to the fair face
that was now coffined and buried.
“Lord save us!” gasped Uncle. Zeb,
Who, like most illiterate men, was not
without a spice of the superstitious in his
nature. “Don’t go a-nigh her, Ruey.
Maybe she ain’t wiZ!”
“Yes, Tin Nelly,!’ said the,child, emp
tying h**r flowers into the old lady’s ,
“I’ve brought you some Easter flowers.”
And she looked solemnly . around her
at the fire in the deep chimney-place, the
shining eopper kettle, the blossoming
rose-tree in the window, and the red re
flections of sunset on the wall.
“La’ safces!” said Aunt Ruey, looking
helplessly first at the flowers and then at
the child, “where did you come from?”
“From the town-house,” said Nell.
“But to-morrow is Easter Day. I count
ed it up from the calendar that hangs
under the clock-shelf in Mrs. Gaff’s room,
Mamma said I was to come home on
Easter.”
Uncle Zeb put out his coarse, wrinkled
hand and touched Nell’s hair as softly as
if she had been a piece of Dresden ohiha,
in danger of cracking:
“She’s a pretty little creetur, ain’t
she?” said he. “Come here, child. Will
you give me a kiss?”
“Yes,” answered Nell, putting up her
coral lips to the old man’s withered face,;
and climbing unceremoniously upon his
lap. “Now give me some bread and
milk. ”
“Well, I declare, Zeb!” cried his sister,
“Ef you don’t look queer with a little
child a-settin’ on your knee!”
Uncle Zeb wriggled himself this way
and that.
‘ ‘I dunno ’zactly how it looks, ” said he,
“but I tell you it feds mighty slick.
Ain’t she got our Nelly’s eyes right over
ag’in? Get her some bread and milk,
Ruey. Easter! Is it really Easter to
morrow? You and me, Ruey, we ain’t:
been to .church in a powerful long time.
Let’s try how it seems to-morrow. Ye
s’pose we could make the little gal up a
bed oh the biff trundle in the west room?”
“You'ain’t going to keep her?” said
Aunt Ruey, with eager, questioning ©yes
full of a certain joy.
Uncle Zeb stroked . the soft, brown
curls. " - *
“Well, I dunno,” said he. “It seems
’most a pity to send her back there,,
doesn’t it?”
Aunt Ruey reflected.
“I’ve’most a mind to try how I like
her,” said she. “I alius was partial to
cats, and it does seem as if a well-behav
ed child needn’t be much more trouble
about the house than a oat.”
And when she had brought in a blue-
edged bowl full of milk and a goodly
slice of bread, she actually gathered up
the fast-wilting flowers and put them in
a cracked pitcher on the mantle.
“La!” said she, as she turned around,
“if the poor child hasn’t fell dead asleep;
with het head agin your waistepat, Zebe
dee.”
“I guess you’d better undress her and
put her to bed, ’’ said Uncle Zeb, gently
laying down the limp little figure, with
its cheeks flushed with slumber. “We’ll
go right up and put the j’ints of the '©Id
trundle together, you and me.”
Aunt Ruey was a little awkward with
the buttons and strings. It was a long
timq since her stiff, oldhands had wrought
such work as this; hut Noll never woke
up.
“She does look dreadful pretty there,
fast;asleep,” said she. “I—I guess we’ll
keep her, Zebedee
“I guess we will,” said the old man.
“Folks’ll call us dreadful silly.”
f, .‘-‘Let ’em,” said Uncle Zebedee.
When Foolish Frank, from the town-’
house, came to know “ef they hadn’t
riowhar seen a little girl,” Uncle Zebedee
informed him that they had decided to
keep'little Nell Arbush.
“Eh?” said Foolish Frank. “For good
and all?"
“Yes,” Said Uncle Zebedee, ( “for good
and all. Go and tell Mrs. Gaff so.” .
Foolish Frank went hack, much wond
ering.
| But little Nell woke up, the next morn
ing, with glittering eyes arid rose-red lips
apart, as m a smile.
i “It’s Easter Day!” ..said she. “I dream
ed mamma oame to me and put hex hand
on my shoulder, and said wC had both
got home.”
Uncle Zeb and Aunt - Ruey looked at
each other with tearful eyes. And that
day—the first in half ashore of years—
they went to church, through the bud-
ding Noods, with Nell skipping on be
fore:
. And ivhen the minister saw;'them come
in, he could not but think of the blessed
Scriptural w T ords:
g! “A id a little child shall lead them!”—
Helen Forrest Graves.
PRECIOUS STONES.
Tins* Seareh for Them in the
United States.
Life in Liberia,
A correspondent at Brewersville; Libe
ria, writing to the Gate City (Mo.) Press,
says : This place .(^Brewersville) is fifteen
miles from Monrovia. It is fifteen years
old. It is the largest settlement ill Libe
ria outside of Monrovia. All the' people
Who have emigrated, out here in the. last
ten or fifteen years have 1 settled in this
place. The people in the settlement . are
poor,, and one isn’t able to help the other
in a business sense of view. There are
j noUbrsesfena nudes, 1 and no 'oxen in the
' whole foment. They have to do all
the farm work with the hoe,' the rake,
and the ax. I have been out here now
six; mbfiths. People are in a suffering
condition for sbmethmg to eat and for
clothes to wear. There isn’t any doctor
in this settlement; the settlement is too
poor to support one. The inhabitants
number 556. Calico is 25 cents per yard.
A common laborer, when he can" get
work to do, receives 25 cents per day.
Pickled pork is 25 cents .per pound,
shoulder meat 25 cents per pound. All
the flour and meat used here is imported
from England and America. Coin meal
is 10 cents per quart. Common flour is
$13 per barrel. This is the greatest
place for sores I ever saw. There is here
‘ an insect; its nameVis jiger; it is very
dangerous. I have seen grown people,
and children,’too, with their toes eaten
qff., Shoes are more needed here than in
America. * It is necessary to wear shoes
-all the time.-.so as .to protect your feet
from these insects, -’ilie' peopkL.are un
able t6 keep shoes on their children all
the time, und a good many of them have
to wear sore feet all the year round. Mj
boy’s feet have been so sore he could
hardly walk.
The only way the settlers have to make
any money here is by raising and selling
coffee. It will take a new-comer like my
self from five to six years to get a coffee
farm in trim for selling coffee. The pub
lic schools are in a poor condition. There
is a class of people here who do not want
the true condition of things written back
home. They say if the people want to
know how times are 'over here, let them
comb and see for themselves. 1
Bicycling on a Frozen Canal.
“I took a spin up a canal in Pennsyl
vania once,” said *a wheelman. “The
■surface was smooth, but had been scored
a little by sharp skates and the particles
of ice were blowing up and down the
canal. I ran up in the face of the wind,
and got aiong famously for half a mile.
Then my wheel began to slip and I made
no headway. Noticing that the rubber
tire was encrusted with the fine particles
of ice, I started to turn about and run
down before the wind. The moment I
swerved froth a straight line the machine
went from under me and I rode down the
tow-path with a bruised thigh and a
broken crank.”—-New York Tribune.
Conscientious.
“Eugena, didn’t I tell you an hour ago
to send that young man of yours home?”
“Yes, papa, dear.”
“But he went out just now—I heard
him—”
“Yes, papa, dear; but he went the
first time, and then he found he’d taken
your umbrella, by mistake, and so he
came to bring it back. Dear George is
so conscientious. ”—Puck.
Extent of the Bisoovery of Diamonds and
Other Gem Stones,
It is a remarkable circumstance that,
although this country is' so rich in miner
al resources, and the world draws from
us a great part of its supply of the prec-
. ions metals, we have, so far, discovered
here only . an insignificant ■ quantity of
precious stones,.. The total value of the
gems proper mined m the i-United States
in 1884 was less than thirty thousand
dollars, and yet we imported during the
same year more than nine million dollars’
worth of diamonds and other previous
stones.
The subject is elaborately treated by
Mr. George F. Kunz in a recent volume.
on. “Tin Mineral Resources, of the Uni
ted States;” published by the Govern
ment, and his paper contains an array of
facts of very great and peculiar interest.
Diamonds, it seems, have been found in
varioiis . parts of the country, but chiefly
in California and North Carolina, though
the largest diamond yet discovered here
was dug up by a laborer, thirty or more
years ago, in Manchester, Virginia. This
stone, not at first recognized, weighed
originally 28 3-4 carats, and when reduced
by cutting, 11 11-16 carats, and it was
deemed so valuable that at one time
$6,0Q0 was loaned on it, though now, 1
because of its undesirable color and cer
tain imperfections, it is not worth more
than a twentieth part of that sum.
The California diamonds found in fif
teen or twenty-different places, the most
prolific being Cherokee Flats, Butte
county, are of all the colors known in the
stone, white; yellow, straw, and rose, '
but they are generally very sfiiall, rang
ing in valuefr.om ten to fifty dollars each.
The largest, discovered at French; Corral,
weighed 71-4 caraljs, and many are unearth
ed whose .value in the rough is not, less
than one hundred dollars. Diamonds
are also found in North Carolina in asso
ciation with the flexible sandstorm, called
itacoimnite, which is peculiar ‘tb that
Stqte, where, too, sapphires of notable
brilliancy have' appeared. A sapphire
found at Jeiifcs Mine, in Franklin county,
is one of the finest known specimens of
the emerald green variety, and because
of its great rarity is probably worth one
thousand dollars.
Fine specimens of chrysoberyi, a stone
which sometimes is almost equal in ap
pearance to the yellow diamond, and is
principally obtained in Brazil and Ceylon,
have been found in different parts of New
England, New York, and the Southern
States, and the spinel, a beautiful gem,
which is often sold for Oriental ruby, is
distributed in the same way. The best
crystals of topaz come from the Platte
Mountains in Colorado, one of these,
weighing 125 carats, being an extraordi
narily fine gem. Only insignificant quan
tities of emeralds and beryls have been
found within our boundaries, but garnets,
which, although smaller, are equal to the
best of Africa and Ceylon, are discovered
on the Colorado River plateau. The
amethyst is quite common in New Eng
land, and appears in several places in the
Southern States. One specimen, found
near Cheshire, in Connecticut, rivals in
color the best amethysts of Siberia, but the
most remarkable native amethyst is that
lately deposited in the National Museum
by Dr. Lucas. It is a turtle-shaped pre
historic cutting 2 8-4- inches in length, 2
inches in width, and 1 L-2 inches in thick
ness, is transparent and flaviqss. . ;
I Of all the gem stones, however, the
greatest revenue, in 1884 toil thousand
dollars, comes from smoky quartz, the
finest specimens of which are found &t
Bear Creek, in Colorado. There are also
many beautiful examples of the less val
uable stones which are in .demand for
cabinet collections, , such , as the green
feldspar, or Amazon stone, found at
Pike’s Peak.
But, so far, comparatively little atten
tion has been paid to the search for prec
ious stones in the United States, though
their use is much more general among
our people than among those of other
countries.. Very likely if the..hunt was
pursued methodically and persistently we
should not be sending millions abroad
annually to buy diamonds, sapphires, ru
bies, emeralds, and other brilliant and
beautiful stones for the adornment of our
women, and to lend additional glory to
the Alde/man, the ward politician, the'
hotel clerk, and the barkeeper. Yet.
however great the results obtained from
from such a seareh, the actual profit de
rived from the industry would probably
fail to justify and properly reward the
labor expended upon it.-—New York Sun,
If a child offends table propriety,
promptly send him out of the room and
let him take his meal alone. ^
A Male Under Fire.
The following incident is taken frame
the “Recollections of a Private” in the
Boston Commercial Bulletin: I must he*
forget to chronicle a laughable incident;
that occurred'on Morris Island, S; Ct It
was in the early days of the siege. Some
ammunition was wanted in a battery at;
the front and a mule-driver vohiflteercdL
to deliver it. The only road lay along
the sandy beach for a'distance of a mite ■
and a half, most of the route being with
in the range of Forts Sumpter and Wag
ner. The mule.. team- started up the
beach. Sumpter began - shelling furious
ly. The driver laid on the lashes, the
mule, with ears laid hack, plied bis legs-
a hundred revolutions to the minute. A.
shell, would strike the beach and. explode?
then another would whizz by the team? .
then that mule would stop and reflect a
moment or try to turn back, when dowis:
would come the whip, A fresh start for
a short distance and. then a. halt, -as an
other shell exploded. ‘ Then the driver-
jumped from Iris seat, caught the atsimaS,
by the head and went on a dozen rods
further.
Wagner now opened on him. But. stilt
the team gradually moved ,ou, reaching-
the battery finally unhurt. The ammuni
tion was quickly delivered and that mute
was headed for camp and. started at its-
utmost speed. Down the sandy road,
flew the animal, the driver rapidly plying
the whip, tiB at last they, reached, the
shelter of the sand-hills. Just then a»
shell from Sumpter came shrieking
through the air.-‘ ' Striking the beach afe
the rear of the team, it bounded upwards
and exploded apparently right above the
mule, A cloud of smoke hid the team
for a moment, but when.it cleared away
there stood the old mule, with head down
and ears back, kicking most viciously afe
the cart, that had been smashed and. brok- : - i
eh up by a fragment of the shell.. The J
driver lay on the sand, but jumped upr J|
he limped towards the 'mule, cut himw
loose from the cart, mounted, and ■ sil $
loped away to the camps.
Thousands of men; Union and Con fed
erate, 'watched this performance^ Oa»
men on shore and the sailors on the ves-.
sol all joined in hearty cheers and- waving
*6f caps. The rebels joined in the demonG
stration to the pluck of the 1 driver and
the comical courage of - Tus^iaaggeared
chargs. "SvfiS
Ehysnes for Book Borrowers.
Some people have a strange way of des~ .
ignating their ownership- of books. Ot
course you remember, when a schoolboy^.,
what ridiculous doggerel some of th®
scholars wrote in theirs. As for example;
“This book is John Smith’S
My fist is another;
You touch one
And you’ll feel the other.”
And again:
1 ‘Steal not this book, my honest friend,.
For fear the gallows’ll be thy end.”
A great many grown-up children hart
adopted the custom in a graver mood, .
The two verses commonly used are:
“Jf thou art borrowed by a friend,.
Right welcome shall he be,
To read, to study, not tb lend,.
But to return to me,” ‘
And th,is:
“Not that impiirted knowledge doth .
Diminish learning’s store;
But books, I find, if often lent,
Return to me no more.”
There is one found in a book formerly be
longing to a well-known resident of Neasfr
York : “Anyone may borrow, but a gen
tleman returns,” David W. Jaynefc
books have the following scriptural quo
tation : “Go thoii rather to them that ssS|
and buy for yourselves.” The follow!®^ :
rather severe lines were used by a Massa
chusetts man:
“Stem power of justice, lift thy wand
In spite of inercy’s look;
Strike him who with presumptuous hand:
Purloins this valued book.” ;
Aaron Putnain, who 'flourished in Med
ford, Mass. , about one hundred years agog,
used these lines: “The wicked borrow?
but do not return again,. - See thou art not
of that number.” Duncan C. PfeEl,. ©H
New York, had this rather churlish motto;,
not at all in, keeping with iris ebaraete®?;
“He does not lend his hooks.” W. JL
Snelling, one of the early editors of: tbs:
Boston Herald, had these instructions^.
“Do not turn down the leaves to mark the-
place, hut put in a slip of paper. Do nofe
give the book to children for a plaything?.
Handle not with dirty hands. Return tb@~
hook when you have read it.”
Barricaded.
Champraineau orders a cab and give®
his direction ,to the driver: As they ant-
about to turn into a certain’ street be
opens the window with preeipitatidn
cries out: .
“Isay, driver don’t take this street-*®
“Why. not? The street'is free.”
“No it isn’t; it’s barricaded. I- ham
a creditor who lives just below. ”-Frene&-
Fan. ^
gums