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p ( Y RICE & FREEMAN.
Ike Calhoun fimcs.
Before the Leaves Fall.
I wonder if the oak and maple,
Willow and elm and all,
\ro stirred at hear! by the coming
Os the day their loaves must fall
they think of the yellow whirlwind,
Or know of the CrimCon*spray
That shall be when chill November
hears all their leaves away?
Perhaps- -beside the water,
The willow,bendsq serene
As when her young leaves glittered
In a mist ot golden green J -.3
But the brave old oak is flushing
To a wine red dark and deep,
An l malpe and elm are blushing
The blush of a child a deep.
*.]f die we must,” the leaflets
Seem one by one to say,
“We will wear the colors of gladness
Until we pass away.
No eyes shall sec us falter;
And before we lay it down.
We'll wear, in sight of all the earth,
The ye.r’s most kingly crown.”
So, trees of flic stately forest.,
And trees by ilic troddenway,
You are kindling into glory
71 is soft autumnal day.
And we who gaze remember
That more than all they lost,
To hearts and trees together,
May come through ripening frosts.
A SHOT FOR A LIFE.
Where the Kentucky river cuts its
way through the mountains, having on
cither bank bold, rugged cliffs, that lift
their summits five hundred or a thou
sand feet, as the case may be, above the
stream, there lived in early times a set
tler by the name of Rufus Branson,
Waho, with his wife dnd little child, a
charming young girl of some eight or
ten years of age, occupied the rude
Cabin at the base of the precipice, a lit
tle back from the river.
Although greatly exposed to danger,
the Indians being at that time very
plentiful throughout the region, he
lived quietly for several years
The Indians frequently visited the
rude home of the hunter, and being al
ways welcomed uhd provided with any
thing that was in the larder, they kept,
a friendly attitude. Especially were
they fond of the child Maggie, and
more than one fierce warrior had been
seen sitting on the grass in front of the
cabin, listening to the childish prattle
of the little one, or else engaged in
making her some toy or plaything from
■willow twigs or pliant bark.
In this manner several years had
•passed away, and Rufus Branson felt as
secure as though he was within the
walls of a frontier fort. One evening
Branson and his wife wore seated near
the doorway, when suddenly a shadow
fell across the threshhoid, and the next
moment a tali savage, whose reeling
stop and bloodshot eyes told that he was
intoxicated, appeared; and staggering to
the log stops, threw himself upon them.
His first demand was for firewater, and
was of course refused, on the ground
that there was none in the house. The
Indian became cross and ugly, aud de
clared with terrible oaths, that if the
liquor was not produced he would mur
der the whole household. Branson was
a brave, determined man, and, although
he dreaded the necessity, yet he saw he
would be compelled to take prompt steps
to prevent him from executing his
threat.
Waiting until the warrior had made
a demonstration, which he soon did by
attempting lo draw his tomahawk, Bran"
son sprang at him, knocked him down
with a blow of his fist, and then quietly
disarmed and bound him where he lay.
After a few moments of furious ravings,
and futile efforts to free himself, the
savage roiled over and sank into a
drunken sleep. He did not waken un
til next morning, but before he did so,
the settler had quietly moved his bonds
and restored the weapons, which he
laid by the sleeper’s side. On awaking,
the savage rose slowly to his feet, felt
iiis wrists, as though the cords had loft
a feeling there, took up his weapons,
and without a word, disappeared in the
timber.
“What do you think of that ?” asked
the wife, turning to her husband with a
frightened look.
“ Pshaw ! Dvin’t trouble your head
about the drunken brute!” answered
the settler, lightly j but as he turned
away and stepped into the door he mut
tered :
“Like it? Well, not much. The
fellow must be watched. I was in hopes
that he would not have remembered.but
that lump where my fist landed was
enough, if nothing else, to recall the
circumstance.”
The summer passed, and they saw
their drunken guest no more. He fail
to make his appearance. But as (he
leaves began to fall, the settler one day,
while returning from hunting on the
hills, and passing.through a dense piece
of timber not far from the house,caught
sight of a figure lurking* in the shade,
hut it quickly disappeared when he ad
vanced to where it was. The figure
Was that of an Indian warrior, and
Branson would have sworn that it was
the one whom he had knocked down
and bound the previous Spring. The
news was not in any way comforting and
he did not tell hi» wife of his discov
ery.
It would only alarm her, he thought,
and without, perhaps, any good result,
lie simply told her he had discovered
bear tracks near by, and that she and
the child must stay close to the house.
Several days afterward, Rulus Brans
son heard his dogs in the timber down
by the river, and knowing that they
never opened without good cause, he
picked up his rifle and hastened to where
the dogs were barking. They had
struck a fresh bear trail, and as he ar
rived in sight, they fairly lifted it, go
ing down the river in a straight line.
The chase led him several miles, and
when he at length got a shot that end
ed bruin’s career, he found that it was
three o’clock in the afternoon. Fasten- j
ing his meat to a tree, out of the reach j
of cat or wolf, he started for home to j
get his horse and return for it that
night
Taking a near cut, he approached the
cabin from the western side where the
timber giew heavy up to wiehin a few
yards of the building, and consequently
he could not see the clearing, or what
might be transpiring there, until he en
tered it.
Thus it was that, when withiu a little
distance of his home, he heard a wild,
piercing shriek ; but he could only guess
that something terrible must be taking
place beyond the screen of leaves. Ut
tering a loud shout, that his presence
might sooner be known. Branson sprang
forward like a wouuded buck, a great
fear in his heart, for he had only too
clearly recognized in that scream the
agonized voice of his wife.
It took but a moment for him to clear
the intervening timber and undergrowth,
and as he dashed out iuto the clearing,
holding the rifle ready for instant use,
he comprehend in one swift glance, aud
what was further to fear.
Close to the end of the cabin, facing
the cliff of which I have spoken, stood
the mother, her face as pallid as death,
her arms outstretched, her staring eyes
fixed upon the precipitous height, up
which the figure of an Indian was strug
gling.
“ My child ! my child !” was all the
woman said, and Branson saw that the
bundle in the Indian’s arms was the
form of their lovely little child, Mag
gie. _ j
Firm of heart, and with nerves as
steady as the rocks around, the father
for a moment quailed and cowered un
der what his quick senses told him was
the deadly peril of the little one. But
he almost immediately recovered him
self.
The Indian was drawing away ; step
by step he was increasing the distance,
and as he occasionally glanced backward ,
and downward, the parent saw iu his
hideously painted countenance the fell
purpose that actuated the abductor.
“ (rod aid me !” Branson muttered,
as he raised his rifle, glancing through
the sights, and touched the trigger.
The savage started violently at the
shot. lie was hit, but not badly, and
with a yell of devilish triumph, he
passed upward.
“ Too low by a couple of inches,”
said a low, calm voice at the settler’s el
bow.
Branson started as though lie himself
had been shot. Where w„s this man
from? Who was he? Neither had seen
him come. But there was no time for
explanations. The stranger, a man
rather below the medium height, whose
fine athletic form was fully displayed by
his closely fitting buckskin garments,
stepped quickly forward a few paces,
and firmly planting his left foot in ad
vance, threw up an unusually long ri
fle, as though preparing to fire.
“ For God’s sake, stranger, be care
ful of my child!” cried Branson, while
the agonized mother uttered an audible
prayer.
“ It’s our only chance. I know that
fellow,” was the quick reply, and the
sharp click ! click ! of the hammer, as
it was drawn back, told that the time
had come.
By this time the Indian had nearly
reached the summit of the steep. It
was now certain that he was wounded,
as upon a broad ledge of rock he rested
for a moment. This opportunity was
seized by the stranger. Although the
savage had taken the precaution to hold
the child up in front of himself as a
shield, cove/ing nearly the whole of his
brawny chest, but leaving his head un
covered, the stranger did not hesitate in
making the shot
For one second, as it gained its posi
tion. the rifle wavered, and then became
as immovable as though held in a vise.
With clapped hands and starting eyes
the parents watched the statue-like form
upon which so much depended.
Suddenly a sharp report rang out;
the white smoke drifted away, and as
the air'became clearer,they saw the sav
age loose his grasp on the child, roll
wildly uii iustant, and then pitch for
ward on the rocks. It may be imagined
that the father was not long in going to
the place where his child lay, and in a
few minutes the little one was in its
mother’s arms.
“ Tell us who you arc, that we may
know what name to mingle with our
prayers,” exclaimed the mother, as the
stranger prepared to depart.
“ My name is Daniel Boone,” lie said
—and was gone. — Western Paper.
Too True. —Oue of the melancholy
things in this world is tt> see young
women, married and unmarried, walk
ing the streets dressed far beyond their
means, and so poor that if they were to
die their husbands and their fathers
would be unab e to pay for a metalic
coffin in which to bury them. \\ hat
makes the sight of all this proud flesh
so much more melancholy, these foolish
creatures ape and run alter the avisto
carcy, and turn up their dainty noses
at the noble men who work with their
hands make a sustenance and have
manliness to live within their means.—
Isn’t it pitiful?—ashamed of their own
friend, and tolerate.’yet secretly despis
ed, by the rich, who know they are
straining every point to make a show
while “ my husband” or the “old man”
is stinting himself to gratify their mis
erable fdly . -Columbus Index.
.
All a Kansas City merchant wants to
know of a stranger is w hether he but
toned his shirt behind or not. If he
docs, he can’t get credit in that town.
CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1873.
Marriage.
It is the happiest and most virtuouos
state of society in which the husband
and wit'e set out early together, make
their property together, and with perfect
sympathy of soul graduate all their ex
penses, plans, calculations and desires
with reference to their piesent
means, and to their future and common
interest. Nothing delights me more
than to enter the neat little tenement
ot the young couple, who within, per
haps, two or three years, without any
resources but their own knowledge or
industry, have joined heart and hand,
and engage to share together the re
sponsibilities, duties, interest?, trials and
pleasures of life.
The industrious wife is cheerfully em
ploying her own hands in domestic du
ties, putting hsr house in order,or mend
ing her hu-band’s clothes, or preparing
the dinner, whilst, perhaps, the little
darling sits prattling upon the floor or
lies sleeping in the cradle —and every
thing seems preparing to welcome the
happiest of husbands and the best of
fathers, when he shall come from his
toil to enjoy the sweets of his little par
adise.
This is the true domestic pleasure—
the “only bliss that survived the fall.”
Health, contentment, love, abundance
and bright prospects are all here. But
it has become a prevalent Sentiment that
a man must acquire his fortune before
he marries—that the wife must have no
sympathy, nor share with him in the
pursuit of it, in which most of the
pleasure trulj consists ; and the young
married people must set out with as
large and expensive an establisment as
is becoming those who have been wed
ded for twenty years. This is very un
happy-
It fills the community with bachelors,
who are waiting to make their fortunes,
endangering virtue and promoting vice ;
it destroys the true economy and design
of the domestic institution, and it pro
motes idleness and inefficiency among
females, who are expecting to be taken
up by a fortune, and passively sustained
without any care or concern on their
part; aud thus many a wife becomes
“ not a but a helpicat.” —
Window.
► ——-
The’ Spirit of Discontent.
The other day we stood by a cooper
who was playing a merry tune with adz
round a cask.
“Ah,” s*id he, “mine is a hard lot—
for over trotting like a dog —driving a
hoop.”
“Heigh ho,” sighed the blacksmith,
on a hot summer day, as he wiped the
p3rspiration from his brow, while the
red iron glowed on the anvil; “this is
life with a vengeance —melting and fry
ing one’s self over a fire.”
“Oh, that I was a carpenter,” ejacu
lated a shoemaker, as he bent over his
lap stone. “Here I am, day after day,
wearing my soul away making soles for
others—cooped up in this little seven
by nine room, lli-ho-hum!”
“I’m sick of this out door work!’
exclaimed the bricklayer ; “boiling un
der the sweltering sun or exposed to the
inclemency of the weather. I wish I
were a tailor.”
“ This is too bad !” petulantly cried
the tailor, “to be compelled to sit perch
ed up here plying the need ! e all the time.
Would that mine were a more active
life”
“ Last day of grace!—banks won’t
discount—customers wont pay —what
shall I do?” grumbles the merchant; I
had rather be a trueyhorsc, a dog or
anything else.”
“ Happy fellows !” groans the lawyer,
as he scratches his head over some dry
musty records; “happy fellows ! I had
rather hamm. r stone all day than puz
zle my head on these tedious, vexatious
questions.”
And through all the ramifications of
society all are complaining of their con
dition, finding fault with their calling.
“If it were only this, that or any oth
er, be content,” is the univer
sal cry. “ Anything but what I am.”
So wags the world ; so has it wagged,
and ss it will wag.
Dreams.
If a man dreams the devil is after
him, it is a sign that be had better set
tle his subscription bill.
If he dreams of an earthquake, and
a turmoil generally, it is a sigu he is
going to get married.
If he (being a married man) dreams
of some fearfut mysterious danger, it is
a sign that his mother-in-law is going
to spend a few days with her darling
daughter.
If he dreams that his head is in dan
ger, and that his hair falls out, it is a
sign that he will have a quarrel with his
wife.
If he dreams of being accosted by a
strange man who insists on taking him
with him. it is a sign that he had better
know all the policemen.
If he dreams of speaking familiarly
to a ghost with horns and tail, it is a
sign that he had better reduce his liq
uor bill.
if he dreams of making a fool of
himself, it is a true sign it is so.
The man who carries a lantern on a
dark night can have friends all around
him. walking safely by the help of its
rays, and be not defrauded. So he who
has the heaven given light ol hope in
his breast can help on many others in
this worl l’s darkness, not to his own
loss, but to their precious gain.
llaliburton declares 'bathe wouldn’t
give a piece of tobacco for the nose, ex
cept to tell when the dinner is good;
nor a farthing for the mouth, except as
a kennel for the tongue ; but the eye
—study that, and you will read man’s
heart as plain as a book.
“ I Can Never be a Drunkard.”
In our youth we had a very dear
friend who often used this expression.
He was a proud boy and prouder man.
He was fond of what the word calls
pleasure, and finally rushed into the vor
tex that leads to ruin. Social in his na
ture, aud he was often tempted at par
ties to take wine, and berated his friends
who refused when lie accepted. And
when, in his calm moments these very
friends would warn him of his danger,
he would reply, “I can nver be a drunk
ard.”
The habit grew upon him, and after
awhile he commenced taking his dram
regularly. Ashamed of his habit, and
fearful that his family and friends
would discover it, he used cloves and
other articles to destroy the smell of
his breath. Often remonstrated with
by watchful friends, he would deny that
he had gone to any excess.
The writer removed to Texas, and
returned to his old home where his
friend lived, about 17 years afterwards,
and the first time he saw him he was down
on the sidewalk drunk, and a year af
terwards, he was one morning found
dead on the same street.
Young man, bew ire ! There is not
one in ten thousand that can always be
moderate in drinks. If you touch at
all, you are in dangor. The devilish
ingenuity of a man has truly given
you the means of destroying the smell
of liquor upon the breath, but not
of saving you from a drunkard’s fate.
Respect Everybody.
This story of Benjamin Franklin was
told me by a gentleman of Boston who
remembered the house in which Frank
lin was born. “Often,” said he, “have
I looked at the old tumble-down build
ing in Milk street, and imagined the
bare-foot boy sitting on the door-step
learning to spell from an old post-bill.”
A young miss, daughter of a distin
guished citizen, passed him one day
while thus engaged and the boy over
heard her words of ridicule as she spoke
to her companion, laughing at the ea.
gerness of the poor lad, and deriding
his “beautiful spelling book.”
But there came another day, when
Franklin was our embassador at the
Court of France. A wealthy American
lady, who was present at one of the fes
tive occasions made in honor of Frank
lin, desired an introduction to her dis
tinguished countryman. It was ob
tained and great was her surprise to
hear him say : “ Ay, ay, wc have met
before.” She could not remember
when, and Franklin added, “ You do
not remember the barefoot little boy in
Milk street, studying his lesson from
the muddy post-bill !”
The fair lady was much disconcerted
at the remembrance of the incideut.—
She did not know the name of the bare
foot boy, but he knew her to be the
daughter of the rich Mr. , and, on
being introduced, this incident of his
childhood immediately recurred to his
mind.
Thermometrical.
The La Crosse Democrat, in a lengthy
article on local advertising, relates the
following :
“ A man came along here some time
since, with a thermometer in a case, and
proposed to place one in the post-office,
so folks could see how hot it was. Asa
special favor he permitted a number of
business men to put cards around the
thermometer, by paying the thermome
ter man a certain amount in cash.—
Among the advertisers per thermome
ter, were several who have ignored the
city newspapers as a means Jof adverti
sing for a long time. One of them,
who had let the newspapers alone, but
had accepted all outside propositions to
spend ten dollars in advertising, stopped
the editor the other day, and remarked
that he had just got in the d —dst stock
of goods that ever was, and that his
prices were bo low that it almost made
him sick to think of giving things away,
lie said he wanted a nice local notice,
setting the thing up in big shape. The
editor looked at the man a moment, the
tears trickled down his cheek —for he
has got cheek—anu he said :
“ I’ll tel! you what I will do. I will
write you a splendid local notice, spread
ing it on as thick as I know how, and
vou just take it and stick it on that ther
mometer al the post-offi.ee , where you
do your advertising.”
This may be,a fable but it mhjht be
true.
—
George Washington.
One day iu a fit of abstraction the
juvenile George cut down Bushford’s
favorite cherry tree with a hatchet.—
His purpose was to cut and run.
And the old gentleman came sailing
round the corner of the barn just as the
future father of our Country had start
ed on the retreat.
“ Look here sonny,” thundered the
stern old Virginian, “who cut that tree
down?”
George reflected a moment. There
wasn’t another boy or another hatchet
withiu fiiteeii miles. Besides it occur
red to him that to be virtuous is to be
happy. as Washington senior
turned to go in aud get his horse-whip,
our little here burst into tears, and nest
ling among his father’s coat tails, ex
claimed : “ Father I cannot tell a lie.
It must have been a frost.”
“ Myjjson, my son,” stammered the
fond parent as he made a pass for his
offspring, “ when you get to be first in
war and first in peace, just cover your
bank pay into the treasury, and the
newspaper press will respect you !
A gentleman in Kansas had a re
ception at his house the other evening,
and when the guests went away it took
him all night to wash the tar aud pick
the feathers off his person.
The Tomb of Joshua.
M. Gu erin, who has been engaged for
the French government in scientific re
searchesjn Palestine, has recently read
a paper m a geographical congress at
Lyons, describing his discovery of the
tomb of Joshua, the sun of Nun. The
tomb he states, is situated at Tigne, the
heritage of Joshua. In the hill at this
place are mauy tombs, and this one has
a vestibule, into which the light of day
penetrates, s pported by two columns,
while the place is furnished with nearly
three hundred niches for lamps, and is
soiled evidently from fheir use. This
argues that some periodical celebrations
were held there. This vestibule gives
eutrance to two chamber, one contain
ing fifteen receptacles for Coffins, and
the other but one. In the latter one
M. Guerin supposes the body of
Joshua to have been deposited, and
he thinks he has discovered strong
evidence in the statement that the sharp
fiiut knives with which Joshua used to
circumcise the chi ! dren of at
Gilgal were buried in his tomb. On
removing the debris which covered the
tomb, a large number ofL flint knives
were found, and on making excavations
at Gilgal. the passage of the Jordan, a
number cf similar knives w T erc also dis
covered. The pillars in the vestibule
of the tomb are surrounded by a fiilot
in the style of Fgyptian monuments,
and this would period of about
the time of Joshua. M. Guerin also be
lieves he has found the tomb of the
Maccabees at Medieh, which he thinks
corresponds with the Modin’of the Book
ot Maccabees.
-
Young Mechanics.
There is no class of the community
the future welfare of the country more
essentially depends than upon the ris
ing generation of young mechanics—
If they are intelligent, sober, industri
ous, and consequently independent, able
and accustomed to judge for themselves,
and governed in their conduct by an
enlightened view of their own best‘in.
terest; if they are men of this sort, the
mechanics, and especially the young me
chanics, will form, in conjunction with
the young farmers of the country, a
bulwark against the monopolies and
corrupt politicians, and save the repub
lic. If,on the other hand, they are igno
rant, idle, dessolute, and consequently
poor, and depending upon those who are
willing to trust them they would soon
be converted into the mere tools of
rich and artful men, who, having first
stripped them of self respect, and every
feeling proper to virtuous citizens, would
use them as passive instruments for
promoting their own ambitious objects,
and for the enactment of laws which
are beneficial to nobody but the a:tf’ul
few and base demagogues with whom
they originate.
It is as true of the mechanical arts
as of any other profession that “ knowl
edge is power.”
Swearing.
It is not a mark of a gentleman to
swear. The most worthless aud vile,
the drunkard and the prostitute, will
swear as well as the best dressed and
educated gentleman. No particular en
dowment is requisite to give a finish to
the art of cursing. The basest and
meanest of mankind swear with as much
tact and skii! as the most refined ; and
he that wishes to degrade himself to
the very lowest level of pollution and
shame, should learn to be a common
swearer. Any man has talents enough
to learn to curse God, and impricate
perdition on their fellowmeu. Profane
swearing never did any man any good
No man is the richer, or wiser, or hap
pier for it. It helps no one’s education
or manners. It commends no one to
any society. It is disgusting to the re
fined, abominable to the good; insult
ing to those with whom we associate ;
degrading to the mind ; unprofitable,
needless and injurious to society ; and
wantonly to profane his name, to call
his veugance down, to curse him, and
to invoke liis vengance, is perhaps of
a’l offences the most awful iu the sight
of God. — Louth.
What a Young Man Christian of Indi
anapolis Saw.
One of the prominent members of
the Young Men’s Christian association
one day week before last was called up
on by two children who told a most pit
iful story about their mother being dead
and they being entirely without fire or
food, lie accompanied the children to
their home in McKernansville, and sure
euough he found a poverty-stricken
looking room, iu which was a coffin.and
therein the form of one whom he sup
posed had been arrayed in the habili
ments of the grave. He left a five dol
lar bill and some change with the chil
dren, and saying be would make ar
rangements for their comfort, he left
the roem Thinking of something else
he desired to tell the little ones, he had
been absent but a few moments when he
returned. Judge ot his surprise upon
entering the room which he Had just
left to discover the supposed corpse sit
ting up iu the coffin counting the mon
ey he had given to the children \ T > e
wonder how often (his coffin bad been
made to do duty in a similar manner ?
—lndianapolis People.
—4 - {~ —
Wno marries for love takes a wife;
who marries for fortune takes a mis
tress; who marries for position takes a
lady. Y r ou are loved by your wife, re
garded by your mistress, and tolerated
by your lady.
Life is like a roll of costly material
passing through our hands, and we
must embroider our pattern as it goes
on. We cannot wait to pick up a false
stitch, or pause too long before we- set
another.
Touching Devotion.
The world is full ot touching inci
dents. low little do we know of the
poignant sorrow myriads of our fellow
creatures are compelled to suffer.—
The following touching incident is from
the Boston Journal : “An express
man. upon reaching his office one very
cold, rainy morning, observed down the
sidewalk a long heavy box. which his
practiced eye at once identified as con*
taining a corpse. Under the end of
the box, shivering with cold sat a half
clad boy about seven or eight years of
age. Addressing him kindiy. he said :
“ My lad. don’t sit there, you will freeze
come in and sit by the stove.” Bursting
into tears, the little fellow replied :
"‘No, I can’t come; my mother is in
this box, and I promised her I would
not leave her until we got home.”
Deeply affected with the touching de
votion of this bravo little fellow, he fi
nally succeeded in convincing him of
the entire safety of his precious charge ;
and taking him to a restaurant, gave
him a warm breakfast, and then learn
ed the particulars of his story His
father died about a year previously in
a remote village in Minnesota, leaving
his mother iu poor health, and nearly
destitute She died but a few days be
fore the boy’s journey, charging the lit
tle hero with the dutyot conveying her
remains to her friends in a distant State,
and furnishing him with a sum of mon
ey (all she had) barely sufficient to carry
them both by freight cars to their des
tination. The little fellow had ac
tually ridden night and day in a freight
ear with his melancholy trust —never
for a moment, losing sight of it.”
Sold.
A wag stepped into a saloon (wc won’t
locate it), and, after taking a view of the
knot of sitters gathered around the
stove, without speaking to any of them,
began to count heads audibly, pointing
first to himself, and then to each expec
tant bummer. He counted one. two,
three, four, five. “ Bartender, six glasses
of beer !” Instantly blood shot eyes
gleamed with delight of expectancy;
five necks were straightened; five pairs
of feet were drawn together for a rise,
five mouths were cleared of tobacco;
five coat sleeves were drawn across five
pairs of parched, tobacco-stained lips
involuntarily smacking with sweet an
ticipation. Six glasses of lager were
ranged in a row on the bar, when the
joker, without signing a glance at the
thirsty objects of his enumeration, pro
ceeded to stow away the six glasses of
“ hop-water ” in short order to the very
evident disgust and disappointment of
the said “ enumerates ” who heaved a
sigh of regret and muttered ruefully :
“ Sold !”
Pay as You Go.— ‘John Randolph
once ejaculated, in his thrill tones, while
a member of the House of Representa
tives : “ Mr. Speaker, I can cry Eure
ka, for I have found the philosopher’s
stone. It is—“ Pay as you go !” The
example of the French is given as a
case in point. The French, “who nev
er go in debt, and who have been saving
money since the days of the first
Napoleon, have became the richest peo
ple in the world, which seems proved by
the fact that the Geruian indemnity ot
a thousand millions of dollars, which
they were obliged to pay, has all been
discharged in two years, while we have
been struggling for eight years with
twice as much. Perhaps the wealth of
the French farmers arises a3 much
from the small farm system and the high
cultivation they give the soil. There is
a vast difference between farming in a
loose way and having all work done in
the best manner.
It was said with bitter spleen of an
English statesman : “Canning can never
be a gentleman for more than three
hours at a time.” It is true, too, that
there are times in every man’s life wher
to be even coldly courteous makes an
exhausting draught on one’s patience ;
but silently to devour the many cha
grins of life, and to maintain a respect
ful bearing towards others even under
vexation and trial, is not only a Chris
tian duty, but worldly policy.
When a man comes home and tries
to bolt his door with a sweet potato,
pokes the fire with the spout of a cof
fee pc.t, attempts to wind up the clock
with his boot jack, tries to cut his kind
ling wood for his morning fire with a
paper knife, takes a cold potato in his
hand to light him to bed and prefers
sleeping iu his hat and boots, you may
reasonably infer that he has been mak
ing the acquaintance cf some very
frienc ly people.
Respect to aged persons is one of
the virtues. There is no period in life
when our parents do not claim our at
tention. love and. warm st affection. —
From youth to manhood, from middle
to riper years, if our parents survive, it
should be our constant study how we
may best promote their welfare aud hap
piness. and smooth the pillow of their
declining years.
A Sunday school teacher, explain
ing the first chapter of Genesis, asked :
“ Why did God command them to leave
the fruit of one tree untouched ?” A
dead silence. At last a little girl spoke
up and said:
“ Please, marm, I ih'nk he wanted
them to leave some for manners.”
Happiness is like manna—it is to
be gathered in grains, and enjoyed every
day. It will nut keep, it cannot be ac
cumulated, nor need we go out of our
selves, nor into remote places, to gather
it, since it is rained down from heaven
at our very doers, or rather within
em.
VOLUME IV. —NO. 18.
FISNVjPAIiAUIUPHS.
The only Seine jurymen in the world
live in Paris.
One way to get out of a scrape.—
Let your beard grow.
What relation is the door to the mat?
—A step fa(r)ther.
What is better than presence of mind
in a railway accident?—Absence of
body.
When traveling in Vermont* if you
meet a stranger, it is safe to ask him :
“ W hose patent churns are you sell
ing?"
A raan in Chicago is reputed to be so
witty that, his wife manufactures all the
butter which the family use from the
cream of his jokes.
In a letter to a friend, a young lady
of Illinois states that she is not engaged
but she sees a cloud above the horizon
about as large as a man's hay^l.
The Danbury News man has dedi
cated his almanac to “that distinguish
ed co-laborer in the field of meteorolo
gical horoscopy, inflammatory rheuma
tism.”
The rallying cry in Kansas, upon
which newspapers of divers views are
unanimous is: “ Let no man be elected
to office who owes over five years' sub
scription to a local paper.”
The Spaniards arc said to have a
proverb which reads; “At eighteen
marry your daughter to her superior; at
twenty to h*r equal, but at thirty to
anybody who will have her.”
Coming home from a ball in a carri
age full of young ladies a gentleman de
clared that he had no objection to rings
on his fingers, but hefhad a decided ob
jection to “ belles on liis toes.”
“ Is that clean butter ?” asked a gro
cer of a boy who had brought a quan
tity to market. “It ought to be,” was
the reply; “ Marin was more than two
hours picking the hairs from it last
night.”
Tompkins aroused his wife from a
sound sleep the other night, saying ho
lnd seen a ghost in the shape of an ass.
“ Oh, let me sleep/’ was the reply of
the irate dame, “ and don’t be fright
ened at your own shadow.”
The Danbury News states that the
panic has so far abated as to permit an
Essex~street man to return to ten-cent
cigars, aud he hopes in another month,
if the brightness coutinues to increase,
to get his boy’s boots half-soled.
A cowardly fellow kicked a newsboy
for pestering him to buy an evening
newspaper, the lad waited till another
boy accosted the “gentleman,’.’ and then
shouted in the hearing of all bystand
ers, “It’s no use to try him, Jim, he
can’t read.”
A Chinaman came down one of the
main streets in Millerton, Cal , on elec
tion day, in a state of inebriation and
of joyful exaltation, and thus delivered
himself: “ Hoop la !me all same Mel
ican man. Hair cut short and dlunk
like h—l. Hoopla!"
A pious but uneducated judge closed
a sentence with the following touching
repruach:f “ Prisoner at the bar, natu r e
has endowed you with a good education
and respectable family connections, in
stead of which you go round the coun‘.
try stealing ducks."
Anew version of Old “ Uncle Ned”
has become popular in the suburbs.—
It runs something as follows : “ Then
pull up the wicket and the stake, and
put by the mallet and the ball ; for no
more croquet’ll be played this joar, it’s
getting too late in the fall.
They have some very smart business
men in New Jersey. Last week a young
man was struck by lightning in a field
ne r Trenton, and when the people be
gan to flock to the spot to look at the
victim, they found a man standing by
the corpse trying to sel lightning rods
to the crowd.
There is a story of an Englishman on
a visit to America, who, upon being
asked after dinner if he would have
cream and sugar in bis coffee, replied
that be liked neither when the coffee
was good, and then immediately after
tasting the coffee, sent his cup for both
cream and sugar.
The examination at a school not far
from London, a young tyro in declama
tion, who had been told by the teacher
that he must gesticulate according to the
sense, in commencing a piece with ‘ the
comet lifts its fiery tale.” lifted the tail
of his coat to a horizontal position,
causing roars of laughter.
A New Orleans girl advertises that
she wants to marry an alderman. She
doesn’t bare whether he is ugly or poor,
but will be satisfied with the honor.—
Never did a girl marry for such a small
consideration. We would sooner think
of chasing a mosquito through a ten
acre swamp for his hide and tallow.
“ My dear friend,” said a gentleman
to a bankrupt the other day, I am
sorry to hear of your misfortune. —
Your family has my warmest sympa
thies.” “O, don’t trouble yourself
about my family. I looked out for
them, you bet. Just save your sympa
thies for the families of my creditors.
Recently a young woman, evidently
from the country, was seen standing
with a very perplexed air at one of the
street letter boxes. She was observed
to knock several times at the top of the
iron box, and obtaining no reposee, she
passed around to the opposite side, and
raising the slit in which the letters
are placed, applied her mouth to the
aperture, and called out (or in), “ Can
ye let me have a postage stamp, if ye
please ?"