Newspaper Page Text
]3 y RICE & FREEMAN.
jltf Calhoun lines.
the Tainted Cup.
The fairy king, in wrath ene day,
mystic chalice flung away.
For though with nectar half filled up,
He seourned to touch the paintod cup.
Vet if by brooks I pause to drink.
Hisbcaker stands upon the brink,
"n'l in the crystal far below,
1 see its evanescent glow.
> t lurcs me through the marshy ground,
~, harlot splendor all around,
\ n i I could wish the cruel fay,
\Vould take his sinful cup away.
For even now, with wine deep dyed,
\ g ee St bv the river side,
betraying by its tempting gleam,
All suet as wander by the stream.
No fay comes seeking through ihe sedge,
Perhaps the king has signed the pledge,
For rel cned with its brilliant staiis,
Untasted still, the cup remains.
A!iline for November.
A BETTER XOUXTRY.
BY MARY HARTWELL.
joe Trestle was very drunk. Day
passed over him, andnight begun to howl
round, while he lay motionless as a
mummy on the low bank of Ramp Run,
under a sycamore *ree. Its leaves quiv
ered with the storm’s breath. The storm
came roaring over hills and tramping
| through woods; blotting out twilight
'and drenching the ground. It washed
J ( ,e Trestle a- he had not been washed
thr years. Ramp Run rose to the storui
as a willing child springs t) its mother.
Water, we know, is rum’s foe to ex
termination. Water pursued rum
through Joe Trestle’s jaws, his boots,
skull By continued dashes end shocks
it brought him back to the world, lie
sat up in a broad glare, and sow the
world as it were on tire. But instant
darkness buried him. lie heard the
long, whistled sound of falling trees,
the roar of air and water, «nd also,
thought, a child’s cry.
Joe suspected it might be the judg
ment ; but, being a stolid fellow, he
clutched the sand and made no remarks.
If it were the judgment, he “didn’t feel
prepared.” But he never expected to
‘•feel prepared,” like less soaked sinners,
lie was altogether vile. There was no
spot iu him whereon character might
he started, except a faint desire, hid and
aching somewhere, to be better than he
was. Joe had staggered past his best
years. At this period he was willing to
sell his ancestors’ tombstones, his own
ears, or even bis wife’s chignon—if he
h;ul a wife for a satisfactory drink.—
Boys patronized him on the streets, and
played tricks on him, when he tucked
himself up like a crysalis under stair
way or fence. People looked forward
to Joe Trestle’s making a morning item
by getting ground under trains or frozen
to the gutter over night, when he could
at last be utilized by the community,
and utilized thus : “See there, my son.
Joe Trestle went to school with mo;
he was a bright hoy, and every one ex
pected he wou’d make his mark. That
is all the mark Joe Trestle has ever
lnade. What is cause of this? Rum,
uiy son—drunkenness !”
When churches revived their zeal,
and Christians begun to polish their ar
mor, all denominations seized on Joe
Trestle and tried to reform him. They
voted at elections to license liquor traf
fic; and at ordinary times this victim
of it was too mean for their notice ; but
when they turned from business to re
ligion, he was in demand. He felt it,
and took a sly pride in being lassoed
from all the pulpits, exhorted •end pray
ed over. They gave him money and
old clothes, which ho spent at saloon
hack dorrs. Thus they tiied to inject
a life through his veins which had nev
er touched him inwardly.
Joe had married a wife, and beaten
her with many stripes; when the poor
thing could bear it no longer, she crept
from his sight and died The knowl
edge that he had a child, a daughter,
somewhere, touched his brain ; but as
she never crossed his way, it was jostled
aside by the more pressing affairs of his
business —getting something to drink.
A young people’s temperance society
once took .Joe in hands. lie signed the
pledge faithfully every week, and was
sure to out of the ditch to be rein
stated at lodge. But even they, young
and hopeful, gave him up. Joe Trestle
Was a wreck that could not be recon
structed. No religion nor respectabili
ty could reach him. lie must go his
own way, drink his last drink—die like
a brute, and go —where ? Lord have
Mercy on Joe Trestle’s soul !
It teas a child’s cry, human and reach
*ng, so that it cut. across the winds.
*Joe stood up in the deluge. He
didn’t know just what to do, but bent
’u doing something for aid. he put both
d.-ts to his mouth and roared like a go u
*illa.
Again the child’s cry— ‘ Oh !oh !”
••\\ here are ye ?” hooted Joe.
But his voice, lacking the sharp tenor
childhood, was drowned. Wander -
ing nearer him, came the pitiful wailim*
—“Oh !—oh !”
‘‘Maybe the Banshee, what the Irish
tell about,” thought Joe, “ or o*d Fox’s
ghost, what killed himself dowu in the
crick holler !”
The sky burst and spilt a broad, aw
ful glare, in which Joe saw woods, and
muddy expanse of waters, and earth,
forming back ground for a little girl; who
tin she thus saw hiui, put more terror
despair in her crying, and flew
blindly against bushes.
“ Come yer !” bawled Joe, “ I won’t
hurt je! I’m nobody but Joe Trestle!
Come yer and tell me what’s the mat
ter !”
Strangely, as soon as she heard his
name, the child dropped She
groped and called : .Joe t groped and
called : till she got his hand and stood
with him under the tree.
Another flash revealed her, a sad
faced child, with hair like rag weed,and
dress of pauper homespun. Her eyes
were lifted to him. She must have seen
he was bloated ; unreliable. But her
hand clutched his; she staid her faith
and safety on his company.
“Was ye skeert ?” yelled Joe.
“ Yes, most to death. And I couldn’t
git acrost, and she said if I didn't git
back ’fore dark, she’d put me in the
house where the crazy folks is!”
“ Who said ?”
“ Miss Smith, what keeps the poor
house. She'sent me on an errant. I
just run till I couldn’t breave ; and it
turned black and eamnenced to storm !
I eoultki t find the footbridge ; every—
time I started out where it was, I’d git
into water. It’s washed off. and now
how’ll I ever git over, and she agoing
to put me in the crazy house if I stayed
till after dark !”
Joe was was so sober he began to
think
“Come back here a bit. See if there
ain’t a hoiler in this tree Is, too! And
it’s a tol’ablo sized trunk. Crawl in
there, and it’ll kind o’ shield you from
the wet Powerful watery spell ! That’s
eomf ’table, hey ?”
“ It’s wet in here, but tain’t so
chilly,”
“That’s better. Now you just take
it easy, sissy; Miss Smith, nor none o’
them poor-house red tapes is goin’ to
lay a finger on ye. She never put you
in the crazy house did she ?”
“Yes--oh h-h !” shuddered the child.
“What for? and did it sheer ye?”
“She said it was forsassin’ her. She
was tollin’ a man what my father was,
and I said he icasnt neither! And
she- ”
“What’s your father’s name?”
“Joe Trestle.”
Joe gulped a throat full of air.
“And she ketclied me by the arm and
put me right in their hall. Oh, you
don’t know how awful 'tis! they’re behind
iron winders; but they look into the
hall and yell and make faces, and grab
like they’d tear yer to pieces! I got
down in a corner wi'lr my dress over my
face, and said ovi* to my self what
grandma Lane touched me.”
“What was that?”
“ ■ For we look for a better country.’
It’s in a big book she calls the Bible. —
It tells a heap of things, but she says
that over the mo«t. So, says I — 1 we
look for a better country —we look for
a better country,’and it made me think
of another kind of a place.”
“ What’s your name ?” asked Joe,
tremulously.
“ Sylvie Trest’e ”
“I’m your father, ain’t I?” put in
Joe, humbly.
“ Yeg, I knowed it.”
The storm was at full height. It was
autumnal equinox, and lull of fury
The little girl shivered. Joe crouched
nearer and felt for her shaggy head
He got it against his shoulder, and
cooed softly to his child.
“ Do you hate me ?”
“ No,” said Sylvia, “ I like ye !” cud
dling her hands under his neck, thus
reaching and wringing Joe Trestle’s
heart
“ And I’ve got a little girl ! And
that woman’s ’buses her ! And I might
be puttin’ as good a house as any of
’em over her this minute, instead of be
in’ like a pig! There’s nothin’ and
nowheres for us now !” he muttered to
himself; the child caught his last
words; to them she answered, turning
up a quick lace —
“ Yes, there’s the better country!”
The bet<er country had seiz> and strong
ly on her imagination.
“ Oh ! that ain't for nobody but re
ligious folks, and they've got to die on
the square to git in ! That’s nowhere
for me !”
“Grandma Lane said,” propounded
Sylvie, rising to her subject and
to her parent’s ear, “ that the bet
ter country’s for the people of God,
and them’s whoever come to Him !”
“ Yes, I know, church folks. They’ve
had me up and tried to religious me.
But it comes on uie to drink, and drink
l must! Wish there was a place where
I could do better! I think thoughts,
but that didn’t mend me. Ain’t clean
enough for this world, and what show
is there for git-tin’ into a better one?”
Joe Trestle saw himself sneaking be
fore the Lord of Worlds !
Sylvie laid out her simple creed. It
was a rope of only two strands : “
look for a better country through Him
who died for us. And though no un
chain thing may enter there. He washes
the unclean, making it fit to enter.”
It penetrated Joe Trestle to the very
quick. And the deluge penetrated to
hi; bones.
Seems to me we’re git tin’ swamped.
Sylvie !” don’t you fevi as if you was
settin’ in water ?”
“ Yes,” and with quick perception,
“ it’s the Hun ! it’s over the banks !”
“ And we’re hived here on the low
dde, with an arm of the stream ’twist
us and the bluff! I was so drunk I for
got! Oh Lord, child, we’re hemmed in
by water!”
Sylvie began to cry fearfully; Joe
fondled her and felt courageous. —
Holding hands they groped round the
tree ; such a current washed their an
kles, they dared not venture far. Light
ning showed them they were in t-lr*
midst of a muddy sea, the voice of
which filled their ears.
“ We’ve got to climb for’t!” said Joe
It seemed hours betore he got his lit
tle girl above the gathering wave, and
hours again before his lax muscles drag
ged him after her. They sat on a syc
amore limb, he gripping her to him, and
watched the waves through flashes, like
two refugees from Noah’s flood.
“ What is it about your better eouu-
CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 3, 1873.
try?” asked Joe.
“ We look for a better country I”
It was a long night. His child was
very heavy on his arm. They were
both stupefied with chills, and Joe was
no wiser, no stronger, than Sylvie. He
had weakened his flesh and softened his
courage ; but he held on, and the strong
desire, to save his child cleared the
mists of drink away.
“ Wake up girlie!” begged Joe un
der his wing, “ fraid this hoiler trunk
is going to be swept off!—Did ye say
ye didn’t like your good-for-nuthin
father ?”
“Liked him !” corrected Sylvie,cling
ing feebly
Lord bless My little ’un and look
at me !”
A twist—a crack ! The Run was
flowing like a mill darn I
These two were alone—far from help
People were housed and happy, in
towns and farm-homes, sleeping under
the wing'of the good God who keeps
all His.
“ What is’t ag’in, girlie ?” breathed
Joe.
“ We look for a better”—
Then the world came to an end to
these two : when breaking timber, edd,
fast water, bruising logs, confused their
battling souls, Joe kept tight hold of
his little girl. He struck out f<r sup
port, but could not see —was whirled
and blinded. It was not for long,
though.
For presently, still clasped to one
another, they floated down stream, and
into a better country ! Wood s Home »
hold Magazine.
Duels Hunting Extraordinary.
The manner in which the gentle duck
is beguiled with amateur hunters is
enough to till that much-wanted biped
with disgust at the remorseless greed
of man. A Minnesota youth, finding
the ducks on Rice lake too wary to wait
until they were shot, determined to re
sort to other means to obtain enough
for the family Sunday dinner. He se
iected a pumpkin, cut a hole in it, re
moved the interior, and carried it to the
shore of the lake, where, divesting him
self of his clothing and placing the
pumpkin over his head, he waded in
among the rice where the ducks were
feeding. Iu a short time the chief duck
approached to reponnoiter, and seeing
nothing more formidable than a juicy
and toothsome pumpkin he signaled his
companions, and they advanced in or
der to feast upon the fortunate wind-tail.
While on their way toward the banquet
they were surprised by seeing the chief
duck suddenly dive under the water,
feet foremost, and failing to come up
Another duck took upon itself the ofiice
of scout in order to investigate the
cause of this strange proceeding, and in
turn made a back summersault with
surprising rapidity, and was seen no
more. Duck number three, who fol
lowed, went down tail feathers first with
a scream and a despairing fluttering of
its pinions, and also neglected to come
back and tell what the matter was.—
The remainder of the bereaved flock
took to flight with terror depicted upon
their countenances, and doubtless with
a firm conviction that there was a mys
tery connected with pumpkins that
no duck can find out. That Minne
sota youth had his Sunday dinner, hut
he got it in a very unsportmanlike man
ner.
A Chinese Burial.
About five o’clock, in the afternoon
the body, enclosed in a fine coffin, was
placed on tho.sidewalk in front of her
late residence, and by its side were
ranged tables loaded with roast chicken,
roast pig, boiled rice, candy, nuts, bran
dy, whisky, Ac., sufficient in quantity
to keep the spirit of rho deceased from
being hungry for a month. These ar
ticles and the coffin remained on the
sidewalk until late the next forenoon,
surrounded by paid mourners, who seem
ed to be carrying on a lively.competi
tion in the matter of giving full value
for the money received At the ceme
tery, after the coffin had been lowered,
hired mourners and too children of the
deceased walked round the grave once,
while tiie husband remained standing
silent by. The vessels containing food
were put iu the grave at the head and
foot of the coffin, followed by a small
quantity of earth. Next to bo put in
were live chickens and ducks, and these
w re prot. ptly covered with earth. Toe
grave having b ,en filled up, brat dy and
whisky were sprinkled upon it in a lib
eral manner, while a pig’s head, roast
chicken, boiled rice, oranges, apples,
nuts. «andy, &c, were laid upon the
mound. The ceremony being concluded
the Chinese returned home in their car
riages. while some Christian hoys, who
-had been closely watching the proceed*
ing* gathered up the fruit, canny, Ae ,
and likewise departed for home.—Sac
ramento in ion.
Thf Yellow Fever, in Shreve
port —After a temporary suspension
caused by the sickness of every number
of the editorial, reportorial and mechan
ical force the Shreveport Telegram re
sumed publication on the 20th. Os the
ravages of the pestilence, it says: “Out
of a population of about 4,000 remains
iu Shreveport when the yellow fever was
declared epidemic, at least 700 have
gone to their last home, numbered
among whom were many of our bright
est, most upright and intelligent, citi
zens; yet, notwithstanding our sore af
flictions, we look forward to a bright
and prosperous future. The sau expe
riences of the past have taught us to
realize that ‘one touch of nature makes
all the world kin.’ and also that the
laws of nature, so imperatively and
plainly marked out. cannot be violated
with impunity.” This indicates a total
mortality of 17A per cent.- an appal
liug record.
A Snake Story.
I had been reading while reclining
after dinner on a couch of fragrant
hay in a field adjoining my dwelling.
I reached my hand to take the book
from the grass where I had thrown it.
Horror of horrors! It touched
something different from a book. That
touch chilled my heart and sent my
olood ice«jold tingling to the tips of
my lingers. Something slimy met the
touch of my warm hand. Semething
slippery and chilly was gliding away
from under it.
I startled to my feet. Snakes had
always been my especia dread from
childhood, and man as I was, I trem
bled from head to foot.
The reptile raise a its hideous head
four feet from the ground, its forked
tongue flashed like a flame. A rattling
sound, gave me a sensation of de
spair which I cun o*ivcr forget-.
It was a rattlesnake.
In that head were fangs which, if
buried in uiy flesh, would infuse poison
into my veins, which would soon turn
my warm blood into inanimate clay.—
With that deadly, fascinating eye fixed
on mine, every muscle seemed to have
lost all power of motion. The attack
came, and the deudiy fangs struck my
breast. I could feel the pressure on
my skin. The creature had only caught
the lappel of my coat. 1 was safe for
the moment.
I seized the snake a few inches from
the head, and wrenched it from his
hold, teavi ig out a mouthful of cloth,
moist with poisonous saliva, and held it
at arm’s length from me.
It was a fearful position, face to face
With a reptile longer and stronger than
I, the least touch of whose fangs was
ceitain death.
The struggles of the baffled snake were
fearful to look upon My arms was
protected by thick sleeves. I was safe it’
I could keep it away from my face. It
was of no use. The creature is draw
ing its s ! itny, winding length from the
ground, and beginning to entwine it
around my body.
The design is to squeeze life out of
me to make me release my hold. The
first coil is round about my waist, the
next compresses my stomach.
A sense of faintness begins to op
press me, for its fatal poisonous breath
is mingling with mine, and is choking
my lungs.
It is needless to contend longer; it is
better to suffer death than this horrible
suspense.
Just at this moment I hear a voice
calling my name.
It’s my brother. lie is seeking me to
call me to supper. Oh, Heaven ! that
help should be so near. I tried to make
myself heard. It is useless. lam too
much exhausted to call for the succour
which is just at hand
To resign this chance is sickening,
maddening; my brain reels, but still,
with convulsive grasp, which digs my
uails into its flesh, I cling to the
reptile’s head. It cannot last much long
er. I can feel the Folds growing closer
and closer, and my ribs must give way.
I can hardly retain my hold. I think
of all I love on earth. I take a last
gaze at nature, looking on me in my
mortal agony as quietly and peacefully
as ever in my happiest moment. I think
of father, mother, sister.
I picture the distress of my brother,
who loves me so well, when ho finds
me lying here stiff and cold, with com
mingled blood and poison flowing from
one iittle wound.
And, too, l think of her whom, only
last night, I pressed to uiy heart, and
swore to love and cherish all my life. —
Every sin l have ever committed comes
up before my mind. lam not ready to
die. Great drops of sweat stand upon
uty forehead, it is coming. The mus
cles of my hand are strained to their
utmost tension, they are giving way. —
The slimy skin is working out from be
tween my fingers —so slowly, but so
easily. The frightful head is drawing
nearer, nearer. It can almost reach
mine. Slipping ! slipping !
“Charley! Charley! do wake up!
Supper is almost ready. What is (he
matter with you ! Arc you sick ?
\\ hat are you squeezing that handful
of hay For ? You have got your clothes
all twi ted around you
Could it be ? Yea,at was a dream,
but a fearfuiiy vivid one. I walked
home with my book under my arm, a
wiser man.
Autumn. —A walk through the
woods these November days s a source
of enjoyment open to all. There is a
peculiar glory in all surroundings which
ro other season of the year furnishes,
yet the cadences of autumn are sound
ing mournfully throughout the land
The woods arc losing tae beautif 1 gar
ments which have clothed them during
the summer, and the leaves are failing,
one by one, like parting inends, and
joining those that have gone before.—
Green and golden russei?, and scarlet
with here and there a prevailing tint of
silver, brown, purple, velvet and crim
son; all combine to make one beautiful
whole, as they clothe the face of the
earth with their beautiful and changing
carpet.
The Color. —A gentleman the other
day saw bis daughter dipping her little
doii baby's dress in a tin cup and in
quired :
“What are you doing, tay daughter ?”
“I’m coloring my doli’s dress red.”
“ With what?”
« With beer.”
‘ What put that foolish notion into
your head, child ? \ou oau t color ied
with beer.”
“ Yes, I can, p-, because ma said it
was beer that made your nose red. ’
Aud the man had business that re
quired him down town immediately.
Border Incidents.
The recent tragedies in Kern county,
California, are painful illustrations of
buder life. A wandering Mexican
called at a ranch in search of employ
ment. The proprietor did not want
help, but entertained the wanderer over
night. There were several men in the
house, and in the middle cf the night
the Mexican got up and made a des
perate effort to murder them all He
killed one, wounded others, but found
his butchering capacity fell short of his
estimate of it and ran, taking with him
a rifle laid some ammunition. The next
day a hunt for the Mexican was institu
ted, aud just at night he was brought
to bay in a thick copse. Uuder cover
of the weeds he commenced firing upon
his pursuers, aud they were forced to
retreat to a little distance, where they
buiit a fire, aud concluded to wait tiil
morning be.-., re they attempted to dis
lodge their game. The night was cold
and the Mexican had no coat, and t’>e
thought occurred to them to desert their
fire and build another one some dis
tance off, iu the h >pe that the Mexican
had no cotit. and the thought occurred
to them to desert their fire and build
another one some distance off, in the
hope that the Mexican might come out
to warm himself by the fire. The ruse
succeeded. It was not long before the
assassin appeared at the fire. His pur
suers then crept close upon him in the
darkness, and he was neatly dispatched
Here is another incident showing how
men throw away their lives out there.
There was an election at Stageland, aud
two men who were friends gut drunk at
it. One of them became so helpless
that he was put to .Bed. The other
knocked around until it got very dull
with him. lie wanted excitement; so
he went to his sleeping friend, woke
him up and asked him if he had vot d.’
“ Yes.” “ Who for ?” Reed.” Then
the individual in search of excitement
struck the man and left him. He was
told he ought not to have struck a man
helplessly and unk. He then said: “I
will go back and kill him,” and he went
back and did kill him by breaking his
ekuil and slaohing his body with a knife.
A bystander tried to arrest the murder
er, and a sharp fight with knives ensued
Roth men fell dc-d about the same time.
With these exceptions, the election at
Stag land passed off in peace and har
mony, and the ballot box was triumph
ant, with the votes of three dead men
in it.
Mark Twain’s Adventure.
I got into the cars, took a §eat in
juxta position to a female. The female’s
lace was a perfect insurance company for
her. It insured her against ever get
ting married to anybody except a blind
man. Iler mouth looked like a crack
in a dried lemon, and there was no more
expression in her face than there is in a
cup of cold custard. She appeared as
if she had been through one famine
and got two-thirds of the way through
another. She was old enougn to be
greatgrandmother to Mary that had a
little lamb. She was chewing prize
poo corn, and carried in her hand a yel
low rose, while a band box and cotton
umbre’la nestled sweetly by her side.
L couldn’t guess whether she was on a
mission of charity or going west to
start a saw mill. I was full of curiosity
to hear her speak. So I said : “ The
exigencies of time require circumspec
tion in a person who ’>3 traveling.”
“ What ?” says she. “The orb of day
shines resplendant in the vault above,”
says I She switched around uneasily
like, then raised her umbrella and said :
“ I don’t want any of your suss—git
out!” And I got out.
Youiiful View of Oxens. —A lit
tle boy in the Bishop Scott Grammar
School at Portland, Oregon, has gotten
off the following luminous view of “ox
en.” His “ composition” is given ver
batim et literatim :
Oxen is a very slow animal. They
are very good to break up ground, j
would rather ha ve horses if they didn’t
have colic which they say is wind col
lected ir» a bunch which makes it dan
ger esc rto keep horses than oxen. If
there were no horses people wood have
to wheal their wood on a wheelbarrow.
It would take them too or three days
to wheal a cord a mile. Cows are use
ful to. I heard some people say that
if they had to be a ox or a cow they
wood sooner be a cow, but I think when
it comes to be milked on a cold winter
morning l think they wood rather be
oxen a- n’t have to raise calves. If I
had to he aox or a cow I wood be a
heffer but if I could not be a beffer
and bad to be both I would be a ox.
A Combination All Abound. —
A countrymr.n drove his cart up to the
grocer's door e::d asked him what he
would give for eggs. “ Only seventeen
cents,” was the reply, “ for the grocers
have had a meeting and voted to give
no more.” Again the countryman
came to the market and asked the gro
cer what he gave for eggs. Only twelve
cents, said the grocer, for all the gro
cers have held another meeting and vo
ted not to give any more. A third
time the countryman came and made
the same inquiry, and the grocer, re
plied, tint the grocers had held a meet
ing again, and voted to give only ten
cents. *• Have you any lor sale ?” Con
tinued the grocer. “ No,” replied the
countryman; “ the hens have held a
meetin’ too, and voted not to trouble
themselves to lay eggs at ten cents a
dozen.”
A Western [paper, in describing an
accident, recently, says, with consider
able candor: Dr. Crawford was call
ed, and under his prompt and skillful
treatment, the young man died on
Wednesday night.”
Sitting rp Wlth Her*
She was expecting him Sunday night;
the parlor curtains were and wn, the old
folks notified that it was healthy to go
to bed at eight o’clock, and Johnny
bribed with a cent to petuiit himself to
be tucked away at sundown. He sneak
ed up the path, one eye on the dog, and
the other watching for the “old man,”
who diin t like him any too well, gavs
a faint knock at the jdoor, and it wae
opened and ha wa# escorted iuto the
parlor. lie said he couldu’t stay but a
minute, though he didn't mean to go
home fur hours. She wanted to know
how his mother was ; if his father had
returned from York State ; if his broth
er’s rheumatismwas any better ; and he
went over and sat on the sofa so as not
to strain his voice. Then conversation
flagged, and he played with his hat,and
she nibbled at the sofa tidy. He finally
said it was a beautiful evening, and she
replied that her tirandhither predicted
a snow storm, lie said he guessed it
wouldn’t snow, as the moon wasn’t
crooked enough to hang a powder horn
on the end; she said she didn’t believe
it would, either. This mutual under
standing seeuicd to give each other
courage, aud lie wanted to know if she
had seen Bill Jones lately. She hadn’t,
she said, and didn’t care to. Then she
went to talking about the donation visit
which was to be given Elder Berry .and
he carelessly dropped his hand on hors
—his right hand, while his left sneaked
along*the sofa to get behind her shoul
ders. She pretended not to notice it,
aud he looked down at his boots aud
wanted to know if she thought mutton
tallow rotted out ots faster than iard
or lampblack She couldn’t say.but she
had an idea that it did. He had just
commenced to lock fingers with her.
when she discovered something ailed the
lamp. She rose up and turned the light
down about half, making the room look
dim. It took him five minutes to get
hold ol her fingers again ; she pretend
ed to want to draw her hand away all
the time. After a long pause he low
ered his voice to whisper, and he said
ue didn’t see what made folks love each
other. She bit her handkerchief aud
admitted her ignorance. He said that
he could name a dozen young men who
were going to get married right away,
and his left arm fell down and gave her
a hug. Then he went over and looked
out of the window to make sure that it
was or was not going to snow, and, com
ing back, he turned the light down a
little more, and then sat down and want
ed to know if she didn’t want to rest
herself by leaning her head on his shoul
der.
Ah, me ! we have all been there, and
who*of us cared a cent the old clock
struck twelve, and we five miles from
home ? The old man was last asleep the
watch dog gone a Visiting, and the pret
tiest girl in the country didn’t see why
we n ed be in a hurry.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have written of
this, but as I was going by Saunders’
the other day thinking of the night I
heard him whispering in her ear at spell
ing school, that he’d love her very shad
ow as long as he lived, ho raised the
window and called to her, as she was
picking up chips in the road : “ Sue
Saunders, come in here and find the
b’ar’s grease for my sore heel, or I’ll
break every bone in your body !”
A Horrible Graveyard.
A correspondent writing from Bom
bay says: “ You have all heard of the
Parsces. They arc the Jews of Bom
bay. They are a race that was excluded
from Persia as the Jew3 were from
many countries. They have very pecu
liar notions of life, but their cemetery
is more peculiar still. It is different
from all others. We made a visit to
their cemetery, not knowing at the time
that no one was admitted. It is a large
tract, on the best part of Molaber hill.
It is very valuable now, but it was pur
chased many years ago. We made ap
plication at the gate and were refused.
We appealed to a young Parsec who
to be passing He was dress
ed in silk, and very gentlemanly in his
appearance. Hu said that no Europeans
were admitted. We told him c that we
were not Europeans, but Americans.—
He Laid Le ,:ou’d be very happy to ob
lige Americ ns, but Could not, but did
consent that wc would go up the road,
oAeide the inner wall, and have a vit-w
of the city and bay. The sentiuertook
us along the winding road, and a rupee
given to him acted like a charm. It
opeued all the gates ahd passed the po
lice. There were no Parsecs iu sight
to stand in our way, and we entered
the prohibited enclosures. The grounds
Lie surrounded by a wall twenty feet
high, and have been used for a great
Dumber of years by this strange people.
There, are no monuments in the ceme
tery. There are three round tower
about fifty feet in diameter, and fifty or
sixty high. On the top of these
towers there is an iron grate. The dead
are fcrough to the gate and delivered to
the priests, and the friends depart.—
The priests prepare the corpse and lay
it on the grate, and ft is devoured by
the vultures, and the bones drop through
the grate into the charnel house below
These towers or vaults are called the
‘ Towers of Silena.’ We saw hundreds
of vultures sittiog on these towers, and
the sentinel told us that they would
t ike all the iicoh from the bones of a
corpse in an hour. We asked why
those towers ? The sentinel, pointing
to one, said, ‘Parsee with’plenty money
put there;’ to another, -Parsee with
but little money put there,' and the
other, ‘Parsee with no money put there.’
The sentinel said when a corpse is placed
on the grate, the strife and n< ise of the
vultures is frightful, and could-be heard
for a long distance. We saw those
‘ Towers of Silena,’ and do not care
ever to be any nearer.”
VOLUME IV.— NO. 19.
FUNNY PARAGRAPHS.
Nothing demoralizes n printing office
like a parade.
IIV cannibal's epit pb—White me As
one who loves his fellow men.
The most curiou-i thin*; in ihc world
is a woman who is not'curi< us.
Twenty-six weddings a da- in P Ua
delphia are among th« r.a j.t-v<->us signs
of approaching winter.
On week days yon buy your music by
the sheet; on Sundays you'cart have it
by the choir for nothing.
It his been said that it must bo' easy
to break into an old man's house because
his gate is broken and his locks are few.
A flash of li. htning wont through
the Erie, Pa., Dispatch office on the
shafting aud knocked the “ devil” down
the cellar.
“ Capital weather,'Mr. Jones, capital
weather. My Wife’s got,such* a cold
that she can t speak. I like such weath
er as this.”
'Fhe principal of a young ladies’ sem
inary, where especial attention is de
voted to deportment, Wns horrified the
other day to find the big girL playing
leap frog ” in the hack yard.
*‘Guilty or not guilty?” Asked a
Dutch justice.
“ guilty.”
“ Den vat do (yful do you here.’ Go
about mit your pizness !” v»' ;J
‘‘ Dear,” said a husband to his wife,
on observing new red Stripped stock
ings on his only heir, „why, have you
made barber’s poles of our childs legs?”
“ Because ho is a little shaver,’’ was the
neat reply.
I he fact is, said an elderly woman, a
man does not know how to straighten
up things. lie does not know where to
commence ! 1 don’t wonder, she r* **
marked iu conclusion, that when (Jod
made Adam he went right to work and
made a woman to tell him what to do:
lliree little boys—good little boys of
the Sunday-school biography sort—
were couapairing progress in the cate
chism. “ I have got to original sin,”
said the Gist. «Lam in total depravi
ty,” said the second. “ l>ut I am
away beyond redemption,” said the
third.
u you very fond of novels, Mr.
Jones?” “Very, responded that in
terrogated gentleman, who wished to be
thought by the lady questioner fond of
literature. “ Have you,’ continued the
lady, “ever read ‘Ten Thouarnd a year? : ”
“ No, madam, I never read that number
in all my life.”
A negro in Boston complained at a
police station that a brother colored m n
had broken a chair all to splinters over
his head. Being told there were no
marks on his cranium, he said : “ No!
’e didn’t make no marks, but ’c smash
ed de ch'ar all ter pieces, and do ch’ar
belonged ter me.”
A smart little b>y in New Orleans
was reproved by his mother for telling
a fib. lie insisted it was only in fun,
but bis pious mother told him he must
ask Divine pardon. So the good little
boy kneeled down and said : “ 0, Lord,
forgive me. I wouldn’t have done it,
only I thought yon could take a joke.”
A rciEST was called upon to pray
over the barren fields of his parishion
ers. ile passed horn ow enclosure to
another, and pronounced his benedic
tion, until lie came to a most unpromi
sing one. He surveyed the sterile acres
in despair. “Ah,” said he “breth
ren, no use to pray here; this needs
manure.”
Says a London letter : The moneyla
ker being unavoidably absent, was tem
porarily replaced at the exhibition of
the bearded lady and other natural
phenomeha by a pretty bright-eyed girl
about fourteen “ Haw, I suppose the
the—or bearded lady is your mother,”
observed a swell, as he paid his money.
” No, sir,” said the extempore mon
eytaker, naively; “she’s my fath
er.
The editor of the Allegan (Mich.)
Journal attended church the other
day. After the regular services were
ended the customary exhortation was
given, asking members to speak.—
Who will be first to speak ?” said the
minister. Presently an elderly gens
tleman, who weighs about three hun
dred pounds, arose and humbly observ
ed, “ I believe it is the duty of tho
biggest sinner in the house to speak
first, and that’s me, thank the Lord !”
A certain lawyer had his portrait
taken in his favorite attitude—standing
with one hand in his pocket. Ilia
friends and clients all went to see it and
everybody exclaimed : “Oh, how like!
its the very picture of him !” An cU
farmer oniy dissented, “Taint like!”
Exclaimed everybody : “Just show' us
where it ’taint like.” “’taint—no’taint!”
responded the farmer, “ Don’t von see
he has got bis hand in his own pocket ;
twould be as like again if he had it in
somebody’s else.”
A lot of taiinstr%ls went to a town not
far away and advertised to give a per
formance for “ the benefit of the poor,
tickets reduced to ten cents ” The
hall was crammed full. The next
morning a committee for the poor called
upon the treasurer of the concern for
the amounl said benefit had netted.—
The treasurer, expressed astonishment
at the demand. *• I thought,” said the
chairman of the committee, “you ad
vertised this concert for the benefit of
the poor. Replied the treasurer:
“ Didn’t we put the tickets down to
ten cents, so that the poor could all
come ?” The committee vanished.