Newspaper Page Text
y,Y FREEMAN & BRO.
(The CrtUtotm tEimeg.
the Model Subscriber.
“Good morring, sir; Mr. Editor, how arc
the folks to-day ?
I one you for next yea'rs paper, I thought
I’d come aud pay. _ ,
\nd Jones is agoin’ to take it, and this is
his money hr re ;
j g, u i down tendin’ it to him, and then coax
ed him to try it a year.
\nd here i.< a few items that happened last
week in our town.
I thought they’d look good for the paper, and
-o J just jotted ’em down.
\nd here’s a bushel of russets my wife pick
ed expressly for you ;
\ small bunch of flowers from Jennie she
tho’t she must do something too.
You’re doin’ the politics bully, ns oil of our
family agree.
Just keep your old goose quill a Mappm ,
rind give thatn a good one forme.
And now you are chuck full of business, and
1 won’t be taking your time.
Pro things of my own 1 must tend to good
day, sir, 1 believe t will climb.”
The editor sat in Ins sanctum and brought
J down his fist with a thump,
“God bless that old farmer,” he muttered,
“lie’s a regular jolly old trump.
And ’tis thus with our noble profession, and
thus it will ever be still ;
There are some who appreciate its labor and
sonic who perhaps never will,
lbit in the great time that is coming, when
Gabriel’s trumpet shall sound,
'.nd they who have labored and rested shall
conl e from the quivering ground,
\ml they who have striven and suffered to
tench aud eunoble the race,
1 Shall march to the front of the column, each
one in his God given place,
they march through the gates of the
Gity with proud victorious tread,
The editor nd his assistants will not be far
from the head.
THE DENIES OF THE ROADSIDE.
BY F. B. CALLAWAY.
Tt is marvelous that a boy’s fortune
hliould turn upon a horse shoe, and yet.
for many of us. some of the greatest
events of our lives have turned upon as
small n pivot. Even iu the humblest
lives, little opportunities lie concealed
all along the way like fairv doors which,
when the right spring is touched, will
fly open, revealing a most glorious fu
ture.
One fair* summer day a distinguished
looking gertleman might have been
seen in his carriage riding along a road
in Ulster county, New York. Ilis name
was Aaron Burr ; not the despised and
haunted Aaron Burr we real of now ;
he was then Fenntuv Burr, one of the
most talented aud highly esteemed men
in our country, lie was not an evil
looking man ; on the contrary, his Was
•i kindly, pleasant face, lit up with bril
liant black eyes.
But, about the horse shoe. As he
was driving rapidly along, one of his
horses lost a shoe and no stopped at the
next blacksmith shop to have it re
placed. It is a lonely country place,
and while the blacksmith was at work.
Burr strolled through the woods and
fields that lay around. Returning, he
noticed upon the side of the table, near
the blacksmith’s shop, a sketch in char
coal of his own horses and carriage.—
He was startled at first, as it was so
wonderfully accurate aud spirited, ldc
know, too, that it must have been exe
cuted in a very few minutes, and he
stood for some time gaziug at it in ad—
miration. Turning around at length,
he noticed a little boy a little way oil
dressed in coarse homespun.
“Who did that ?” asked Burr, point
ing at the pict re.
“ I did it,” said the boy.
The Senator was astonished Enter
ing into conversation, he discovered
that the boy, though ignorant, was iu
tellectual. " He also found that this
young artist had never had any instruc
tion in drawing, and that he was ap
prenticed to the blacksmith business for
six months.
Burr wrote a few lines on a pieee of.
paper, saying as Ixs wrote :
“ My boy, you are too smart to st «y
here all your life, if ever you should
want to change your employment and
see the world, just put a clean shirt iu
your pocket, come to New York, and go
straight to that address,” handing the
boy the paper.
A child’s intuitions arc quick, and as
the hoy gazed into the kindly lace bent
down to his, he felt that he had won a
friend that he could love arid trust.
The traveler's h irses now being ready
he mounted his carriage and was out of
si-lit in a few minutes, while the bo
'vildered boy returned to his work in
the blacksmith shop. He treasured the
bit of paper though, and many a day as
le worked the blacksmith’s bellows that
•fined the glowing embers, he built up
g ! >:den dream castles, while brave ambi
tious thoughts leaped up from the livid
toils.
Months passed away and these eir-
had nearly faded away from
the busy Senator’s mind. Iu h;s beau
tiful home at Richmond Hill, he was
sitting at breakfast one morning with
his daughter Theodosia. It was upon
this daughter, so lovely, so pure, that
Aaron Burr lavished the wealth of a
s '»ul overflowing with secret tenderness,
bong after his fall from power, she it
ls said, was the solitary star shining
with beautiful lustre over the rough and
darkened pathway of his life.
It was ou this memorable morning
tnat a servant catered the breakfast
r »om. aud placed in Col. Burr’s hard a
suiull paper parcel,saying it was brought
by a boy who was waiting outside.—
1 hoodosia gazed on wonderiugfy as her
bother opened the parcel and found a
coime. country made, clean shirt. Oi
course they both laughed merrily over
tt, and Burr, supposing it to be some
mistake, ordered the boy to be shown
in.
M ho should enter but our genius of
the r adside, blushing in toufusion. By
tlie elegance of the room aud the pres-
ehce of the beautiful daughter ho was
still more abashed, but the face of his
friend reassured him. Very modestly
he placed in his hand a piece of worn
paper, the one he had treasured for so
many months. As Burr traced the al
most illegible words he recognized his
own handwriting, and anew light dash
ed over bis face. Taking the child s
trembling hands in his own, he gave
him such a welcome as only warm, gen
erous hearts know ho# i hen
presenting the lad to his daughter, he
told her his story. She gave him her
hand at once, lor she was as much
pleased with him as # her father.
From that hour the hoy was loved
and cared for as one'of the family. He
was educated and placed under one of
the best of masters he had
shown such a talent for. Young \an
derlyn, for that was the boy’s name,was
afterwards sent to Europe by Burr,
where he spent five years in the study
of painting, until he became, it is said,
an artist worthy of the uumc.^
Years and years afterwards, when
Burr was wandering in Europe, a poor,
lonely exile, Vanuerlyn was exhibiting
pictures at the Louvre, Pans, lie had
not only been presented with a gold
medal by Napoleon, hut was receiving
compliments and congratulations from
the Emperor’s own lips. His cup of
joy seemed almost full. It was then
that he heard that his benefactor was
in Baris, and he hastened to give him
as warm a welcome as he himself had
received one winter’s morning so long
ago. The poor old man, bowed down
with disgrace, and the grateful and now
famous young artist, whom he himself
had uplifted from a blacksmith’s uredge
at the roadside. Wo only know that
the meeting must have been most joy
ous and most sorrowful. Yanderljn
rendered to his old 1 riencl all the as
sistance lie could.
In after years the artist returned to
America, and was commissioned by Con
cress to point one of the panels el the
Capitol at Washington, one of the high
est honors his country could bestow up
on him. He executed here one of his
famous pieces, his well known ‘'Land-'
ing of Columbus ” lie also painted
portraits of Aaron Burr and his daugh
ter He died a few years ago at King
ston, not far from the spot where lie
drew the charcoal sketch which decided
liis fortune.
As for Aaron Burr, the way of the
transgressor is hard, but the Lord is
more merciful than man. In his old
age, Burr was hated by the country
that once loved him, he was left homes
less, almost friendless, but ho was not
left desolate. The bread cast upon the
waters in liis happier days Vo returned
to him. As he had once loved to care
for and shelter the poor and homeless,
so he himself, in his last days, was shel
tered and cared for tenderly.
To Young Men.
The young man who has an ambition
to make a great noise in the world,
should learn boiler making. He can
make more at that trade than at any
thing else he can engage in.
If he believes a man should “strike
for wages.” he should learn blacksmith
ing; especially it he is good at “ blow
* ♦)
ing.
If he would embrace a profession iu
which he c.n rise vapidlv, he should
become an seruuaut. lie coulun’t find
anything better “for high.”
He certainly could do a staving bus
iness iu the cooper trade.
If he believes in “measures,not men,”
he will embark in the tailoring busi
ness.
If the one great object of his life is
to make money, lie should get a position
in the United States Mint.
jf he is a punctual sort of a chap
and anxious to be "on time,’ he should
put hi* hands to watch making.
If he believes it the chief end of
man to have his business largely "felt,”
why, of course, he will become a hat
ter.
If he wants to “-get at the root of a
thing,” he will become a dentist—al
though if he does, he will often be look
ing “down in the mouth.”
If a man isji bungler at his best, he
should become a physician, and then he
will have none of' his bad work thrown
upon his hands. .It is generally buried
out of sight you know.
Should he incline to high living, but
prefer plain board, then the carpenter’s
trade will suit him. ile can plane
board enough at that.
If he is needy and well bred, he will
be right at home as a baker.
He shouldn’t become a cigar maker.
If he does, all his woik will end in
sumke.
The quickest way for him to ascend
to the top round of his calling is to
come a hod-carrier.
V very “ grave ” young man might
(loutish as at* undertaker.
And don’t become an umbrella maker,
for their business is “used up.” *
If a young man is a paragon of hou
or, truthfulness, sobriety, lias never
sworn a profane word, .and has twenty
thousand dolltus that he has no use for,
then he should immediately start —a
newspaper. If, however, he lacks nine
teen thousand niue hundred and nine
ty-eighi dollars of having the above
sum, lie cannot do better than to invest
the two dollars he has in paying for this
paper one y ear.
“ Father, did you ever have another
wife besides mother ?” “No my boy ;
what possessed you to ask such a ques
tion V’ “ Because I saw in the old fam
ily Bible whe e you married Annie
Domini, ISTG ; and that isn’t mother,
fur her name is Sal lie Smith.”
Faith in our own ability is half of
every battle.
CAEIIOUN. GA„ WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 1874.
CHASED BY WOLVES,
BY M. DONALDSON.
Some winters ago I sallied forth one
evening to skate on the Kennebec, in
Maine,by moonlight,and having ascended
that stream to explore its course. Fir and
hemlock of a cent ury’s growth met over
head. and formed an arch way radiant
and frostwork. Aii was dark within,
hut I was young and fearless, and, as I
peered into an unbroken forest that
reared itself on the borders of the
stream, I laughed with very joy ness ;
my hurrah rang through the silent
woods, and I sto and listening to the echo
that reverberated airain and again, un
til it was hushed Suddenly a sound
arose ; it seemed to me to come from
beneath the ice; it sounded low and
tremulous at first, until it ended in a
fierce wild yell. I was appalled Nev
er before had such a noise met my ears.
I thought it more than mortal; so fierce
and amid such as unbroken solitude, it
seemed a3 though ft;om the tread of
some brute animal; and the blood rush
ed back to my forehead with a bound
that made my skin burn, and I felt re
lieved that 1 had to contend with things
earthly and not spiritual; my energies
returned, and I looked around for some
means of escape. As I turned my
head to the shore, I could see two ob
jects dashing through the underbrush
at a pace nearly double in speed to my
own. By this rapidity and the short
yells they occasionally gave, I knew at
once that these were the much dreaded
gtey wolf.
I had never met these animals; hut.
from the description given of them, I
had very little pleasure in forming their
acquaintance. Their untameable fierce
ness and untiring strength which seems
part of their nature, render them ob
jects of dread to every benighted trav
eler.
There was no time for thought.; so I
bent my head an dashed madly forward.
Nature turned me toward home. The
light flakes of snow spun from the iron
of my sk ites, and I was some distance
from my pursuers, whence their fierce
howls told me I was their fugitive. I
did not look back ; I did not feel afraid,
or sorry, or even glad ; one thought of
home, of the bright faces awaiting my
return, of their tears if they should
never see me again ; and then every
energy of body and mind was exerted
for escape. I was perfectly at home on
the ice. Many were the days I had
spent on my good skates, never think
ing that at one time they would be my
only means of safety. Every half min
ute an alternate veip from my ferocious
followers told me too certainly that they
Acre in close pursuit.
Nearer and nearer they came ; i heard
their feet pattering on the ice nearer
still, until I could feel their breath and
hear their snuffling scent. Every nerve
and muscle in my frame was stretched
to the utmost tension. The trees along
the shore seemed to dance in the uncer
tain light, and my brain turned with
my own breathless speed, yet still they
seemed to hiss forth their breath with a
sound truly horrible, when an involun
tary motion on my part turned me out
of in) course. The wolves, close be
hin 1, unable to stop, and as unable to
turn on the smooth ice, slipped and fell,
still going on far ahead ; their tongues
were lolling out, their white tusks glar
ing from their bloody mouths, their
dark, shaggy breasts were fleeced with
foam ; and as they passed me, their eyes
glared and they howled with fury.
The thought flashed on my mind
that by this means 1 could avoid them
—namely, by turning aside whenever
they cauie too near; for they, by the
formation of their feet, are unable to
run on the ice, except in a straight line.
Axt one time, by delaying too long,
my sanguinary antagonists came so near
that they threw the white foam over
my clothes as they sprang to seize me,
and their teeth clashed together like
the spring of a fox-trap.
• lad my skates failed for cue instant
—had 1 tripped on a stick, or caught
my foot in a fissure in the ice, the sto
ry I am now telling would never have
been told.
I thought all the chances were over.
I knew where they would take hold of
me if If 11; I thought how long it
would be before I died ; and then there
would boa search for the body that
would already have a tomb ; for oh !
how fast Uian’s uiiud traces out all the
dread colors of death’s picture, only
those who have been so near the grim
origin T can tell!
But I soon came opposite the house,
and my hounds—l know their deep
voices—roused by the noise, bay. and fu
riously from the kennels. I heard
their chains rattle ; how I v.ishei) they
would break them ! and then I should
have protectors that would bo equal to
the fiercest denizens of the forest. The
wolves, taking the hint conveyed by the
dogs, stopped in their mad career, and
after a moment's hesitation turned and
fled. I watched until their dusky forms
disappeared over a neighboring bill;
then taking c-fF my skates, wended my
way to the house, witi. feelings th ;t
may be better imagined than described.
But even yet I never see a broad sheet
of ice in the moonlight- without think
ing of the snuffling breath and these
fearful tilings that followed me so close
ly down the frozen Kennebec.
Tiierf, is a moral dignity in mind'*
ing one’s own business to which few can
attain. Solomon saysthat he who med
dles with business not belonging to him
is like him who taketh a dog by the
ears; whereas he v.ho pursues a contra
ry course isjike him who sits down to
a good meal with no one to make him
afraid.
-»• >■ ——
flow near are two hearts when there
is no deceit between them !
SoiiiCijt)uel_to Love.
Perhaps one of the most positive
proofs that we have of the sou is inde
pendence of the body, is our great need
if love and something to love. Were
we mere animals, creatures' doomed to
perish after a few brief years of life in
his world, that which contents the
brute would also contcut us. To eat
md sleep well, to have an easy time of
it, would be enough As It is. we may
have all these things, and health to en
j y them, and yet be utterly wretched.
Neither can mental food us.—
“ Someone to love,’’ is ou>’ heart’s
cry.
When the atmosphere of tenderness
is about us, we rejoice ; when people
are harsh and unkind, we suffer. We
begin life wishing to love all people, and
believing that they love us. Expei i
rienee hardens us. Our dear one’s grow
fewer; but as long as reason lasts, we
must love someone, we must at least
imagine that someone loves* us. The
parents, sisters and brothers, that dear
est friend whom we promise to love and
cherish until death parts us, these pome
into our lives and fill them up. After
wards come the |little children, frail,
helpless babies, who need our care so
much, and iriends to whom we are not
kin, yet who grow dear to us.
Some have many loved ones, and
some but one. Heaven help those who
have none, though they are generally
to blame lor their empty hearteduess ;
for kindness will win love. They are
always wretched, and they often show
their craving for something to love by
cherishing some dumb animal—a dog,
kitten, a parrot, perhaps, on which they
lavish carrcsses which, j better spent,
would have bound some human heart
to their;. Pride, or morbid sensitive
ness, Uiay have been at the bottom of
their loneliness, and these pets of theirs
fill the aching void a little.
Someone to love ! It is the cry of
the human soul, the note to which ev
ery heart responds ; the bond which
will bind us all together in that other
world where mourners .-hall be comfort
ed and lore shall reign forever.
A Boot! Turtle Bog.
“If any body has seen a black aiuL
tan dog answering to the name of J udge,”
says the Peoria Review, “going down
street in company with a hardshell tur
tle that won’t answer to anything, and
certainly won’t answer to tackle, as the
dyg will toll you if you can ouly get
him to stop long enough, plea e halt the
eloping pair, as they are the property
of the editor of this paper. We are
fondly attached to the dog on account
of his vagabondish, Bohemiattish hab
its. He knows every dog in l eoria by
name, and is on speaking terms with
nine-tenths of the dogs that come in
under the wagons ; and he knows m >re
of tbs inhabitants of this city than the
tax collector does. The turtle ia a more
recent acquisition. It was placed in
the backyard yesterday, and the dog
sp at an hour and a half trying to in
duce it to come out of its shell and be
comfortable. The old iron dad main
tained his reserve, however until the
dog crammed his nose against the fur
ward part aud commenced to sniff. The
pair seemed to come to sume sort of an
understanding at once—for the dog
made an impetuous remark on a very
high key and they both started on a
trip together. The dog was last seen
sauntering along like a whirlwind, Jie
turtle staying right by him. We should
be very sorry to lose the dog just now,
as lie has acquired another important
and valuable quality. lie knows more
about turtles than any other dt g in the
country, and it’s mighty hard to find a
real good turtle dog.”
Yf ko are Esquires.
The present use of the distinction
“ Esquire,’ conveys not the remotest
idea of its origin, or appropriation in
past ages The esquire originated in
chrivulric times, when the sons of gen
tlemen, from the age of seven years,
were brought up in the casHe of supe
rior lords ; which was an inestimable
advantage to the poorer nobility who
«ould hardly otherwise have given their
children the accomplishments of their
station. From seven to fourteen tiicse
boys were called pages or vallets; at
fourteen they bore the name of esquire.
They were instructed in the manage
ment of arms in the art of horseman
ship, in esercis. of strength and activi
ty. so as to fit them for tlie tournmeafc
and battle, aud the milder glories of
chivalrous gallantry. Long after the
decline of chivalry, the word esquire
was only used in a limited sense for t lie
sons an leers of knights or such as
gained the title by creation or some
other legal means Blackstone defines
esquires to be all who bear office of
trust under the crown, aud styled es
quires b; the king in their comm is
sioiis and appointment, and being once
honored by the king with the title of
esquire, they have a right to that dis
tinction for life.
Boors a Blessing. —Literature is
a ray of that wisdom which pervades
the universe.
Like the sun. it enlightens, rejoices
and warms. By the aid of books we
Collect around us ali things—ail places,
men and times. By them we are all re
called to the duties of human life. By
the sacred example of greatness our
passions are diverted and we are all
aroused to virtue. Literature is the
daughter of Heaven, who has descend
ed upon earth to soften the evils of life.
Have recourse, then, to books. The
sages vh * have written long before our
and -ys are so many travelers in the paths
of calamity, who stretch out their
friendly hands, inviting us. when abnn
doued by die world, to join their soci
ety.
OneXHappj^Heart.
i Have you made one hapnyjheart to
day ? Envied privilege. How calmly
you can seek your pillow ! how sweetly
sleep! In all this world there is noth
ingjso sweet as giv»ng comfort to the
distress, as getting a sun ray into a
gloomy heart. Children of sorrow meet
| us wherever we turn ; there is no mo
; ment that tears are not shed. Mud sighs
uttered. Yet how many oi‘ those tears,
those sighs are eaused by our own
thoughtlessness! Hew many a daugh
ter wrings the very soul of a fond moth
er by acts of an kindness and ingrati
tude ! How many husbands, by one
little word,make a jwliole day 3 of sad
hours and unkind thoughts ! How
many wives, by, angry recriminations,
estrange and embitter their loving
hearts! How many brothers aud sif
ters meet but to vex and ( each
other, making wounds that no human
heart can heal! Ah ! if each one work
ed upon tit’s maxim day by day—
“ Strive to make some heart happy”—
jealously, revenge, madness, hate, with
kindred evil associates, would forever
leave the earth. Our minds would be
so'occupied in the contemplation of ad
ding to the pleasures cf others, that
there would be no room for the ugly
fiends of discord. Try it, ye discon
tented, favorer grumbling devotees of
sorrow, self caused ; it will make that
little part of tho world in which you
move as fair as Eden.
A bee raiser in New England is
sai 1 to have patented au invention for the
protection of bees from the attacks of
the hone'’ moth, which enters the hives
at night and rifles the stores. The idea
arose out of his familiarity with the dai
ly routine not of bees only, but of hens.
Hens, he observed, retire to rest early ;
bees seek repose earlier still; no sooner
are the bees asleep than the moth steals
into their abode and devou s the pro
duce of their toil. He has now built a
stand of hives with a hen house above
it, the bees first betake themselves to
their dwelling and settle themselves for
the night, the hens then come home to
roost on their perch, a.id, as they take
their place upon it, their weight sets
some simple mechanism to work, which
at once shuts down the door of all the
hives. When the day dawns, however,
’.he hens leave their roost, and the re
moval of their weight from the perch
raises the hive doors and gives egress to
the bees in time for their morning’s
work.
Drunk —Young man, did you ever
stop to think how that words sounds ?
Did you ever think what misery and
wee you brought upon your friends
when you degraded y m manhood by
getting drunk ? How it rings in the
ears of a loving wife? llow it makes
the heart of a fond mother bleed ? How
it crushes cut the hopes of a doting
father, and brings reproach and shame
upon a loving sistei ? Drunk 1 See
him as he leans against some friendly
house. lie stands ready to fall into
he’ll, unconscious as to his approaching
fate. The wife, with tearful eyes and
aching heart, sits at the window to hear
her husband’s footsteps; alas! they
come not —he is drunk! tiie hmbanc,
: lie parent is drunk, spending his means
of support for liquor, while his family
is starving for bread, and his children
suficring for clothing, and his friends
one by one reluctantly leaving him to a
miserable fate.
Sincerity is the basis of every vir
tue. He that lives in pleasure is dead
while he lives. They who give wi’ling
ly, lovo to give quickly. Entertain
charity, and seek peace with all men. —
Wherever the speech is interrupted, so
is the mind None are more hopelessly
enslaved than those who falsely believe
they are free. A falsehood has no legs,
and cannot stand; but it has wings,
and can fly far and wide. If a man
talks of his fortunes, depend upon it
they are not altogether disagreeable to
him.
Newspapers. —Therejis no book so
cheap as a newspaper, none so interest
ing, because it consists of a variety
measured out in suitablcgfr'ojportioh 8 ' as
to time and quality. Being new every
week or day, it invites to a habit of
reading, and affords an easy and agree'
able mode of acquiring knowledge, so
essential to the welfare of the individ
ual and the community. It causes many
an hour to pass away pleasantly and
profitably which would otherwise have
been spent in idleness and mischief.
A Unique Verdict. —‘-We are un
derscribed darkies, beia a burner's ju
ry of disgust to sit on da body ob de
nigger Sambo, now dead and gone be
fore us; have been sittin’ cn de said
nigger aforesaid, did on do night ob de
furteeoth ob November come to def by
falling from de bridge ober de riber, in
to de said riber, whar we find he was
subsecomely drowned, and afterwards
washed on de riber side, whar wc s'puse
he was froze to deaf.”
“ Marm. what tin ye think Sal told
Ned Bobbles last night when he was
sparking her ?” ‘ Shut up, child ! what
are you talking about?” “No, but I
beam her, I did. She told Ned Bob
bles last night she kinder felt —”
“ Hush, you little rascal! Hush, or I’ll
take your skin off,” and poor Saliie
looked as red as a boiled lobster. “Oh
get out, Sal, I will tell ! She told Ned
Bubbles she kinder felt sheered tu doth
aud tickled too.”
Tiioue who are formed to win gener
al admiration are seldom calculated to
bestow individual happiness Men and
women in search of wives and husbands
.may do well to note this truth.
FI X ITEMS.
“’Whipping i#the best thing to make
j children enlightened,” s.i 1 old Mrs
i Bitterkins. “ l never whip mine but
! it makes ’em smart ”
The manner of advertising for a hits
I band in Java is by placing an etnp!\
flower pot on'thc portico roof. In this
| country a full pocket-book under i bank
roof would fetch the bus a great deal
| quicker.*
fl his is a remarkably open winter
The oldest inhabitant does ii t re neat
her a winter in the past twenty years
. when loafers could stand on the corners
i in the middle of December, as they do
■ now. —Danbury \cirs.
j *!“ Jane, what letter in the alphabet
do you like best ?” “ Well. I don't like
to say, Mr. Snobbs.” “Pooh! non
sense! tell right out. Jane. Which and *
you like bast ?” “Well (blushing and
dropping her eves), l like you a) the
best.” " '
A j is credited by the
Advertiser with*the following sh t :
A young gent at the'party Tuesday
night, after having danced until wear
ied, sat down by a young lady and re
marked : “ lie hud danced until he
was'so warm that his head itched.’
That is the weakest excuse I have cv
er heard given for suc-h sensation.
The Bourbonville, Ky., Mountain"
Echo says that the following is a trn
copy of a letter received by Judg*
Randall, of the Knox County Court, a
few days ago from the county judg' of
County : “ Mr. onable 1* 11 it.n
die sir I am Jn sick lied l wish my (Y.s
Continude I am the untie Evidence to
Explane the hole Truth 1 hope all will
the -3d 1573.”
“I don’t believe much in the Bible/’
said a collegian to a i old Qua!'.o'.
“ Does thee Relieve in France?” •• Yes
l do. 1 never saw it, hut [ have plea
ty of proof that there is such a coun
try.” ‘‘Then thee does not believu
anything unless thee or thy reliable
friends have seen it?” “ No, he sure
1 won’t.” “ Did thee ever see thy own
brains?” “No.” “ Did thee ever km w
anybody that has seen thy bruin 1 ”
4 No.” 44 Dies thee believe thee has
any brains ?”
The quecresC'objoct in nature is a
Spanish beggar, for these beggars beg
on horseback; and it is an odd thing
to see * man riding up to a poor foot
passenger asking alms. A gent; man
in Valparaiso, being stopped by one of
these mounted beggars, replied, 44 Why,
sir, you come to beg of me who have t
go on foot, while you ride on horse
back “ Very true, sir.” said the'
beggar. 44 and l have the more need to
beg, as I have to support my horse as
well as myself.”
A couple of Massachusetts swe ■
hearts went out to walk. They wended
their way to a favorite resort, which
happened to he a goat pasture. Seating
t’lemstJvea on the bank of a calm and
pi void stream, they gave themselves u;
to an enjoyment of the beauties <
things. They bad backs turned
to a goat of the masculine gender, who
approached them rather abruptly, with
his head down, and—but it was lucky
the young man could swim lie got
his girl out on tiie other side of the
stream, where there were no gnats, and
concluded not to go back after her hat
until some other day.
“7The strongest expression is generally
the briefest and best. Take the old
ballads of any people, and few adtec
fives will be found. The singer says :
“He laughed ; she wept.” Perhaj
the poet of a more advanced age might
say, 44 Lie laughed to scorn ; she turne-i
away and shed tears of disappointment.”
But nowadays the ambitious young wri
ter must produce something like thi.- :
• A hard, fiendish laugh, scornful and
pitiless, forced its passage from l.’s
throat, thrrtfcgh the lips that curled n
mockery at her appeal ; she covered her
despairing face, and a gust and whirl
wind of sorrowing agony burst forth in
her irresistible tears.”
Suppose a mao and'a ynunggirl wen
married, and—which is, of course, irn
passible—that at the time of the hyme
neal contract the man was thirty-five
years and the "girl five, which make
the man seven times as old as the girl.
They live together until the irirl n ten.
this makes him forty years old and f-nr
times as old as the girl; they live until
she is fifteen, the man being f Tty-five,
this makes the man three ti: cs a* <! i ;
they still live, she is thi ty years old.
this makes the man sixty, only twice as
old, and now, as we liavn’t time to work
it out. perhaps somebody will be good
enough to toil us how long they would
have to lire to make the girl as old as
the man.
Mr. Magoffin's roof has not her n in
good condition, and when the snow
stnrir. came, he thought it would he bet
ter to shove! the snow off, and perform
the task expeditiously by rolling up a
huge snow-ball around the ro.if, and
hurling it off in one lump. Just as he
completed the hail and gotitt > the edge,
Mrs. Mag< ffin was standing on the front
doorstep, discussing the servant-girl
question. She had on her new winter
bonnet ar.J all her other frills and fix
ings. Mag ffin gave the ball a-h ve,
and then peeped over, lie saw it strike
Mrs Magoffin’s bonnet and kr ov what
his fate would be. lie rushed thr ugh
the trap-door, dashed down stairs and
got under the bed. Mrs. Magoffin
came up, raging like a tiger. She saw
his boot sticking out, and comprehend
ed the situation. “ Inflammatory rheu
mat-ism,” Magoffin said kcj t him i.i
the house when his friends asked where
he had been for the last two weel.f.
VOLUME IV.—NO. 25.
i SEHOU) HINTS.]
MectoOE on t!ui Au.vnic.—Ac-*
cording t> fi. Bother, the billowing
formula tiff>rds a mucilage which will
keep in the hottest weather: Gum-am*
bic. 12 tmy ounces; gi• cerise, 8 fluid
ounces ; water, 1G fluid ounces.
Steamed Du.mplinus.— Tike falls
of raised bread dough, and lay them in
the steamer, so as, not to touch each
other, allow the n to remain in the steam
ten nr fifteen minutes This makes a
nice desert on baking days. To be eat
en with milk and sugar or tuMasses.
Tev Poultice for Inflamed
Sores. —Pour w»t -r em u_h over *
handful of fre-h tea to wet it thorough
ly, bruise it and let it stand a few min
utes, th n bind it on the wound, and
change two or three tunes during the
day till the swelling is reduced.
Cakes for Dyspeptics.—Takebut
termilik and stir in wheat fl mr cn nigh
to make a stiff hitter, then sprinkle
sme dissolved salt and |saleratus nc
corling to judgment, and beat the mix
ture rapidly about five minutes, bake
right away, an 1 not to he eaten while
too hot, with sweet er am gravy.
A Remedy for Spasms. —To cure
this distressing form of malady, take
twopenny worth of camphor and infuse
it in one pint of brandy. Let it stand
forty-eiiihl hours, and then it is fit for
use. When the attack comes on, take
<Mie teaspoonful in a wineglassful of wa
ter.
Cement for Glass and (Tuna.—
Fill an ounce bottle three parts full of
isinglass, fill it up with proof gin, let it
stand near a tire till dissolved, taking
care n >t to leave a cork in the bottle;
when used set the bottle in a cup of
warm water, to dissolve the cement. —
This will mend glass or china.
Cure for Warts. —For twenty
nights in succession dip the hands in
water before going to bed ; then, whilst
wet, thoroughly rub them with green
hops, putting on a pair of glotvs to re
tain the farina. At the end of that
time the warts will crumble when was! -
ing them, without pain or scar.
To Remove Mildew from Clotiief.
—Take soft soap and stir in p-vvd<*i\ <1
starch of near the same bulk, then half
as much salt and the juice of two lem
ons, spread the paste on the affected
part till the stain comes out. If it can
be done, lay the article on the grass day
and night, this will facilitate the remo\-
al of ihe stain.
Pur Alum in Sr.utou.—To keep
colors bright for a long time, dissolve a
piece of alum the size of a shelbark and
stir it into a »int of starch. For starch
ing muslins, ginghams, and calicoc-s,
which must be often washed, it is very
desirable, will keep the colors nice and
Hriirht much longer and the eost and
trouble is but a trifle.
Card Receiver. —No. 2. Form th>*
card board in any fanciful shape and
with a brush spread a thick paste of
gum arabic over the receiver, and sprin
kle rice thickly over it and leave it to
dry. In the meantime put a parcel of
red sealing-wax in alcohol, to dissolve
which will take twenty Tour hours, then
put this solution smoothly over the re
ceiver and the ri<*ft on it. and it will be
a good imitation of coral.
To Polish Horn. —Scrape wit! a
piece of glass or a razor, not too shaip
and without no’ches, as smooth as j o:
sible ; next rub the horn with very fno
glass paper, afterwards with the finest
emery, and finally with pulverized char
coal damped with water These should
be spread on a piece of cloth covered
with beeswax. This 1: st operation mu t
be performed with pressure and brisk
ness, till the polished surface appears.
Borax and So at. — The addition of
three-quarters of borax to a pound of
soap, melted in without boiling, makes
a saving of or.c-half in cost of soap,
and three-fourths the labor in washing,
and improves the whiteness in the fab
rics; besides, the usual caustic effect is
removed, and the hands ar ■ left with a
peculiar soft and silky feeling, leaving
nothing more to be desired by the most
ambitious and economical washerwoman.
Make, in the best m nner. a soup of
the lean of fresh beef, mutton, nr veni-*
sun (seasoned with cayenne and a little
salt), allowing rather less than & quart
of water to each pound of meat, skim
ming and boiling it well, till the meat
is all in rags, and drops from the bone.
Strain it and put it in a clean pot. —
Have ready a quart o: more of large
chestnuts, boilld and peeled. If roast
ed, they will be still better. They should
be the large Spanish chestnuts. Put
the chestnuts into the soup, with some
small hits of fresh butter rolled in flour.
Boil the soup ten minutes longer before
it goes to table.
Household Floricultur*.—Ev
ery f tte wlto lovos flowers will see that
a few plants are secured tor winter bloom
ing in the house. Plants that have
been left in pots all summer should he
re potted 3nd have a proper supply of
| fresh earth. We use a mixture for
j this pm pose ; good garden losrfc with
j one quarter sand, and some very old
j and well rotted manure, and, if possible,
! some leaf mo and. This we mix thor
| oughly together, and make it very fine,
j Uid then it is ready for use. We be-'
Sieve in always having (Ewers in the
house, if possible. It makes a ronat
look f.-r more cheerful to see them, will*
| their grot n leaves and bright (Wets
\ It 4s sonic work to tend and care f»r
them, but they more than r* pay the
t tod Ic He have always had them in
<ur house, and always mean to have
them. Let no home be without sumo
plants in ihe house.