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>]}Y FREEMAN & BRO.
fne (falhoHH limes.
of the Heart.
There is a love that epeaketli,
But is not heard aloud ;
Its sacred language hreaketh
Not on the busy crowd.
’Tis heard in secret, places
Its sorow to disguise;
’Tisjvrit in anxious faces,
And meditative eyes.
It ever comes to render
Kind thoughts when fond ones part ;
lis tones arc sweet and tender,
Tis the language of the heart.
No art of man can tench us
This secret speech of love;
Though here its tones may reach us,
They echo first above.
•Tis haerd in gentle praises,
In pleadings soft and weak;
It teUs in silent gazes,
What lips could never
With strong electric fleetness,
Its holy breathings stai t,
No speech can make its sweetness—
The language of the heart.
JOHN STEPHENS’ PERICARDIUM.
“Now I am going to tell you just what
my husband said to m* this morning,
Doctor, word for word,” and the inva~
lid, Mrs. Stephens, lay back on the soft
pillow, the very picture of misery. The
family physician, who was called on an
average to the Stephens mansion three
hundred and sixty times a year, drew a
chair close to the couch, and waited
quietly for his patient to open her book
of complaints.
“ Last night, you sec, Doctor, I had
an ill turn, and he wanted to come for
you; but when 1 got so he dared to
leave me, he concluded then we’d better
let you sleep.”
‘Much obliged to him,” said the Doc
tor —sarcastic emphasis on the personal
pronoun. “ Last night was the first
undisturbed night’s rest I have enjoyed
for s week.”
Mrs. Stephens continued :
“This spell is the same as I had the
last time you were sent for, Doctor—”
“A slight nervous attack,” broke in
the physician, “nothing more.”
“ Well, it don’t make any difference
what you call it, it was mighty hard to
bear; but let me tell you what my hus
band said first. Doctor, before we go in
to symptoms. When he was go’ng
down to breakfast, he says to me, ‘Kate,
what shall I send you up ?’
“Says I, * I don’t want anything in
the world but a good strong cup of tea
Tell Bridget to send it up in the little
tea pot.” I saw. Doctor, that he didn't
move after I said this, so I turned and
looked up at him, and such a picture of
rage and disgust I never saw in my life.
Finally, says he, 4 Tea I tea ! tea ! it’s
.nothing but tea from morning till night.
iKate, you are the color of a Chinaman
now. Why don’t you order a good
piece of beefsteak, and a alice of brown
bread and a cup of chocolate; that would
be a sensible breakfast!”
“‘But, John,” says I, 4 you forget
that I am sick and have no appetite.’
I was all ready to cry, but I was de
termined that he shouldn’t have the
satisfaction of seeing the tears fall
44 ‘Forget,’ says lie, ‘forget? I wish
to Heaven I could forget! It’s nothing
but grunt and groan from one year’s
end to another. 1 have lost all patience
with you,’ says he. ‘When we lived in
a part of a house, and you did your own
housework, you were as well and happy
as anybody, and no man ever had a
pleasanter little home than John Ste
phens; but. what have I now to love or
to come back to ?’ and this, Doctor, is
what he ended up with—
“ ‘ Kate,’ says he, 4 you are nothing
more nor less than a drunkard, and in
the sight of God more culpable than
the most of men who stagger through
the streets; because the majority of
these poor devils have some sort of an
excuse for their conduct, and you have
not the slightest. You hare a luxuri
ous home, a husband doing his level
best to make you happy—everything
under the light of the sun to please you,
and yet you will persist in swilling tea.’
Ws, Doctor, swilling was the word he
used—boo ! hoar! boo ! Oh dear me !
to think I should ever have lived to
have beard such dreadful language out
of my husband’s mouth ; and then he
.says—‘and making me as miserable a
wretch as walks the earth.’ ”
“ Pretty plain talk,” interrupted the
Poctor, with a shrug of his broad
shoulders.
“Oh, yes,” sobbed the victim, “ and
so awfully coarse and unkind. If I had
bad a spell aud died there before his
very face, I don’t believe he would have
cared a snap of his finger. I tell you,
Boctor Ellis, there is such a thing as a
tuan’s getting hardened.”
“ Evidently,” replied the physician,
a laconism absolutely painful.
“ But tny husband has nothing in the
VT °rld to trouble him but just my poor
health j and I am sure I can’t help
? bat.” This remark was more in an
to her companion’s tone and man
er 2 than the one single word that had
accidently escaped his lips, and this the
Doctor felt.
1 “Anybody would think by the way
°e goes on,” continued the irate wo-
Rlan , “that I enjoyed myself with spasms
a nd cramps and fainting fits. Anybody
think it was a pleasure to me to
'*d. every time I see a funeral proecs
-Bl°n, as if the hearse was going to stop
at our door next. Oh, yes! such a life
18 very enjoyable, very, indeed ”
Doctor Ellis took no notice of these
last words ; the man’s eyes grew lumin
°us. and his whole face declared that he
considered himself master of the silua
*lon 5 and if Mrs. Stephens had not
, fcn so entirely taken up with her own
‘“iuients, mental and physical, that hon-
countenance would have betrayed
" ion say,” he began settling himself
®l)c CftlljOMit tDeeMjj SimcG.
in the large easy chair, and assuming a
strictly professional air, “that your hus*»
band has nothing to trouble him hut
vour health; how do you know that,
Mrs. Stephens?”
“How? Why how do I know any
thing ? By the evidences of my senses.
Don’t I know that John Stephens has a
splendid business that looks after itself,
a magnificent income, and money
enough to live on the hare interest, as
well as a family need to live, if he nev
er entered his office again while he has
breath ?”.
“ But money isn’t everything, Mrs.
Stephens,” proceeded the physician,
with a calmness almost Mephistophelian.
“There are other troubles besides mon
ey troubles. How about health, mad
ame ?”
“ Health ?” repeated the lady with a
smile she intended co he sarcastic to the
last degree.
“ Health, Dr. Ellis! Why, there is
not a healthier or a sounder man than
my husband in the United State He
eats more in one meal than I do in
three months.”
‘‘There is nothing the matter with
your husband's stomach, Mrs. Ste
phens.” Doctor Ellis shaded his face
with his hand, and waited further de
velopments. Mrs. Stephens mistook
this attempt at forced concealment for
emotion, and immediately assuming a
sitting posture, brushed her eyes, and
looked piercingly iuto her companion’s
face
“ Why do you accent the word ‘stom
ach,’ so strongly, Doctor Ellis ?” she
inquired in anxious tones. Mrs. Ste
phens was forgetting herself, and this
the Doctor hailed as an excellent omen.
“Only that I might make you under
stand that a man’s digestion could be
most unexceptionable, and yet, he be
far from sound in other directions.”
“I'hen you mean to tell me that my
husband is sick.”
“ I do.”
“Perhaps you will go still further,and
say dangerously ?”
“ If you desire it.”
“Oh, Doctor Ellis, how cold and un
feeling you are ! I should think you
ought to know by this time—” and just
here Mrs. Stephens broke down entire
ly, and sobbed as if her heart would
bi eak
“ Ought to know what, Airs. Ste-.
phens ?” inquired Doctor, with uncall
ed fur deliberation.
“ You ought to know—to know—that
my —my husband s health and life are
of a good deal more consequence to mo
than my own.”
44 Ah , indeed,” interrupted the phy
sician. with an elevation of the bushy
eyebrows, immensely suggestive of a
contrary opinion, as well as several very
excellent reasons for said opinion.
“Doctor Ellis, will you be kind enough
to tell me what’s the matter with my
husband ?”
Airs. Stephens was now on her feet—
tears all wipjed away, eyes flashing with
resentful spirit, and only the little quiv
er of her lip to show how deep a
wound the kind heart in her bosom had
sustained. There she stood, reproach
ful, defiant, determined, womanly. The
Doctor was delighted, and such an hon
est face it was, that he carried around
with him from door to door, from sun
rise to sunset, every day in the year,
that it was a mighty hard matter to
keep it from an immediate betrayal of
the whole purpose.
“Mrs. Stephens,” said he, “you have
no cause to be alarmed. If I can only
get your co operation in this business I
feel certain I shall be able to make a
well man of your husband in a few
months, at the longest; but, as true as
I sit here before you I cannot do this
alone.”
“Why have I not been informed of
this before ?’’ broke in Mrs. Stephens
imperiously.
‘‘Who was there to inform you, inad
ame ? Your husband does not know
his condition, and 1 should really like to
be told when you have been sufficiently
calm to hear all that was necessary for
you to know ?”
“But, Doctor Ellis, I should think
that you ought to have understood that
my own health and comfort are nothing
compared to my husband’s.” Airs.
Stephens was weeping again. “There
is no gaciilice that I would aot make for
him.”
“ Curious creatures !” muttered the
Doctor; “delightful bundles of contrar
dictions I llow the mischief should I
know, Airs. Stephens, how much you
care for your husband ? lam sure you
have spent the last hour complaining
about him. Is that the way women
generally testify their regard for their
husbands ?”
“O, don’t, Doctor Ellis, please don’t.
I will never complain again—never—if
you will only let me know what I can do
for him. Do you know, Doctor, I had
begun to think lately that something
must be amiss with him, he was grow
ing irritable. Poor dear ! how wicked
and thoughtless I have treatdd him.’’
“This, then, is the trouble. I shall
take it for granted, madam, that you
know something about physiology, and
can follow me without difficulty ?”
“ Oh, yes ; for mercy’s sake, go on.”
“Very well. I find that the peri
cardium —”
The pericardium ?” repeated Mrs.
Stephens
“ You know what that is, I suppose ?”
Evidently Mrs. Stephens’ anatomical
knowledge was limited. She shook her
head in despair. “ Something about
the heart, is it not ?” she asked at last.
“ Yes, the pericardium is the mem
braneous sac that holds the heart—-
Well, sometimes this sac—it is no mat
ter about particulars, Mrs. Stephens,’’
and Dr. Ellis suddenly came to a stand
still.
“ It is enough, though, for me to my
CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 13. 1874.
that we are both passably anxious that
his heart should remain where it be
longs. A_r. Stephens must be amused.
He wants the opera, the lecture, the
social circle, entertaining books—a hap
py home —music. You play and sing,
do you not, Airs, Stephens ?”
“Oh, yes—l used to,” and Airs. Ste
phens’ tones were so pitiful now that
big Dr. Ellis really and truly was ob
liged to wipe both his eyes and his nose.
Before he was aware, the lacrymal duct
had gotten the upper hand.
“Well, try it again. Get a teacher
and go to practicing.”
“But ho> am I going to manage my
spasms ?” sobbed the lady.
“Well, perhaps between us both—you
using your will and power, and thinking
of your husband, going out with him
and taking care of him—and I doing
my best in my way—we may be able to
subdue them ; but you must remember
this, madam : do not let Mr. Stephens
have the faintest suspicion that you
think anything is the matter with him ;
and above all, do not treat him like an
invalid. Just amuse him, and all that,
you know, just as you used to when you
were first married.”
Another series of sobs from Mrs.
Stephens.
The Doctor arose to go. His patient
had entirely forgotten that he had left
no prescription.
“About tea, Doctor ?” she asked, as
he prepared to leave “Do you think
it very hurtful ?”
“As an occasional tonic, I have no
objection to tea; but as a daily bever
age, madam, it is an invention of the
devil. Good morning.”
John Stephens sought his home that
evening with a heavy heart. His wife
he believed a confirmed invalid, or hyp
ochondriac —it mattered little which ;
one was as bad as the other. His re
monstrances were of no avail, he was
doubtful even whether his wife loved
him He opened the door softly with
his latch key. This had become habit
ual ; seldom did the gentleman show
himself to his beloved wife until after
the dining bell had summoned the fam
ily to the dining room.
A strain of music met and transfix
ed him on the very thresho'd. Abt’s
beautiful song was being rendered, and
his wife was the musician. He was just
in time to hear—
“ The eyes that cannot weep,
Are the saddest eyes of all.”
For a full year this charming voice
had been as silent as the grave
“ Company, perhaps,” he muttered.
Curiosity overcame him. He opened
the parlor door and stepped in. There
was Mrs. John Stephens, becomingly
attired, all alone, as enthusiastic over
the fine rendition of a piece of music
as he had ever seen her.
44 What does this mean, Kate ?” he
asked, with outstretched arms.
“ That I have given up lea, and am
going to try hard to be well. I guess
my voice will all come back, John.”
“ I guess so,” he replied, folding her
tight to his heart.
Three months after this the cure was
so radical, that Doctor Ellis made a
clean breast of the whole thing ; and
there ig no word or set of words that
can provoke so hearty a laugh in the
happy home of the Stephens as this
physiologically scientific one—Pericar
dium.
A Night’s Adventure.
A lover in Guelph, Ontario, who
feared the lady he loved was entertain
ing another admirer, determined to
climb a tree in the yard, from which he
could see into the sitting room in the
secoad story, where the young woman
was supposed to be. Just as he got
himself fixed in a comfortable position
commanding the window, someone in
side pulled the curtain down. Then
the lover made up his mind to desetnd.
It was very dark, but just as be was
sliding down the trunk of the tree, the
lover heard a dog barking furiously
neath, and looking down he saw a huge
animal capering about apparently very
eager to nip the lover’s legs. Then the
lover suddeuly climbed up the tree again
and endeavored to drive the dog off, but
the more it danced around and barked.
Then the lover came down as near as
he dared and tried to coax the animal,
but this only made him hop about and
howl more furiously than ever. So it
became apparent that the lover would
have to spend the night in the tree. —
lie fixed himself as comfortable as he
could in a crotch of the limbs, and kicks
cd his legs and moved his arms to keep
from freezing to death. Several times
when he thought the dog was asleep he
attempted to descend, but each time the
brute awoke, and began to caper about.
13y the time daylight arrived the lov
er was so benumbed with cold that he
could hardly use his hands, but as tbe
sky grew brighter he leaned over to ex
amine his persecutor, and to his amaze
ment he found that it was his own dog,
which unknown to him had followed
him to the tree, and had barked and
capered only to express his delight at
the prospect of the lover coming down
and going home. The suddenness with
which the lover reached the ground is
said to have been remarkable, and the
language used by him bad. lie has
some of the rheumatism which he got
that night in his bones yet.— Toronto
Globe.
Nothing, in truth, has sueb a power
to weaken, not only the powers of in
vention, but tbe intellectual power in
general, as a habit ol extensive and va
rious reading without reflection. The
activity and force of the mind are grad
ually impaired in consequence # of dis
use ; and not unfrequeatly all our prin
ciples and opinions come to be lost, in
the infinite multiplicity and discordan
cy of our acquired ideas. —Dugahl
Stewart.
How to Make Mischief.
Keep your eye on your neighbors.—
Take care of them. Do not let them
stir without watching. They may do
something wrong if you do. To be
sure, you never knew them to do any
thing very bad. but it may be on your
account they have not. Perhaps if it
had not been for your kind care, they
might have disgraced themselves a long
time ago. Therefore, do not relax any
effort to keep them where they ought to
be. Never mind your own business—
that will take care of itself. There is a
man passing along —he is looking over
the fence--be suspicions of him; per
haps he contemplates stealing, some of
these dark nights; there is no knowing
what queer fancies he may have in his
head.
If you find any symptoms of any one
passing out of the path of duty, toll ev
ery one else what you see, and be par
ticular to see a great many. It is a
good way to circulate such things,
though it tnay not benefit yourself or
any one else prrticularly. Do keep
something going ; silence is a dreadful
thing; though it is said there was si
lence in Heaven for the space of half
an hour, do not let any such thing oc
cur on earth, it would be too much for
this mundane sphere.
If, after all your watchful care, you
cannot see anything out of the way in
any one, you be sure it is not because
they have not done anything bad ; per
haps in an unguarded moment you lost
sight of them—throw out hints that
they are no better than they should be,
that you should not wondej if the peo
ple found out what they are after a lit
tle while, then they may not hold their
heads so high. Keep it going, and
someone else may take the hint, and
begin to help you along after a little
while, then there w 11 be music and ev
erything will work with a charm.
The Effects of Worry.
That (he effects ot worry are more to
be pleaded than those of simple, hard
work, is evident from noting the classes
of persons who suffer most from the ef
fects of mental overstrain. The case
book of the physician shows that it is
the speculator, the betting, and tiierail
road manager, the great merchant, the
superintendent of large manufacturing
or commercial works, who most fre
quently exhibit the symptoms of cere
bral exhaustion. Alental cares accom
nanied with suppressed emotion, occu
pations liable to grave vicissitudes of
fortune, and those which involve tbe
bearing on the mind of a multiplicity
of intricate details, eventually break
down the lives of the strongest. In
estimating what may be called the stay
ing powers of different minds under
hard work, it is always necessary to take
early training into account. A young
man cast suddenly into a position in
volving great care and responsibility
will break down in circumstances in
which, had he been gradually habitua
ted to the position, he would have per
formed its duties without difficulty. It
is probably for this reason that the pro
fessional classes generally suffer less
from the effects of overstrain than oth
ero. They have a long course of pre
liminaiy training, and their work comes
on them by degrees, therefore when it
does come in excessive quantity, it finds
them prepared for it. Those, on the
other hand, who suddenly vault into
that position requiring severe toil gen
erally die before their time. — Chambers
Journal.
The Mother’s Last Lesson,
A mother lay dying. Her little son,
not kuowing of the sorrow coming to
him, went as was his custom, to her
chamber door saying r “ Please to teach
me my verse mamma, and then kiss me
and bid me good night! lam very
sleepy, but no one has heard nn say my
prayers.” 44 Hush !” said a lady who
was watching beside her. “ Your dear
mother is too ill to hear you to-night,”
and coming forward, she sought gently
to lead him trom the room, lloger be
gan to sob as if his heart would break.
“ I cannot go to bed without saying my
prayers—indeed I cannot.”
’J'he ear of the dying mother caught
the sound. Although she had been in
sensible to everything around her, the
gob of her darling aroused her stupor,
and, turning to her friend, she desired
her to bring her little son to her. Her
request was granted,'and the child’s
golden hair and rosy cheeks nestled be
side the cold face of his dying mother.
44 Aly son,” she whispered, “repeat this
verse after me, and never forget it,
4 When my fuller and mother forsake
me, the Lord will take me up.’” The
child repeated it two or three times, and
said his little prayer. Then he kiss
ed the cold face, and went quietly to his
bed.
In the morning he came, as usual",
to his mother, but found her still and
cold.
This was her last lesson. He has nev
er forgotten it, and probably never will
as long as be lives.
In some districts of India it is the
custom to hold what is known as a dev
il’s dance, when strings are passed
torough the flesh of young men on both
sides of the body. The dancers seme
times die from their injuries. There
is a resemblance between this custom
and that of the Sioux Indians, who at
intervals have feasts and dances, in
which young men who aspire to be war
riors have strings of buffalo hide passed
through the flesh on both sides of the
breast , the ends of the strings being at
tached to a cross pole, or two buffalo
skulls. The would be braves must dance
without food or drink until the flesh
gives way and they are Jiberated from
torture. The two customs may have
had the same origin.
Hearty Suppers.
Says Dr. Denison : Eating a hearty
meal at the close of the day is like giv
ing a laboring man a full day’s work to
do just as night sets in, although he
had been toiling all day. The whole,
body is fatigued when night sets in, the
stomach takes its due share, and to eat
heartily at supper and then go to bed is
giving all the other portions and funct
ions of the body repose, while the
stomach has thrown upon it four or five
hours more of additional work, after
ha ving already labored four or five
hours to dispose of breakfast and a still
longer time for dinner.- This ten or
twelve hours of almost incessant work
has nearly exhausted its power; it can
not promptly digest another full meal,
but labors at it for long heurs together,
lixe an exhausted galley slave on a new
ly imposed task.
The result \s that by the unnatural
length of time in which the food is kept
in the stomach, and the imperfect man
ner in which the exhausted organ man
ages it, it becomes more or le?-s acid ;
this generates wind, this distends the
stomach, this presses itself against the
more yielding lungs, confining them to
a largely diminished space; hence ev
ery, breath taken is insufficient for the
wants of the system, the blood becomes
foul, black and thick, refuses to flow,
and the man dies, or in delirium or
fright leaps from a window' or commits
suicide.
Only a Blush.
\\ hat ia there more mysterious than
a blush, a single word, or thought, or
look, should send that inimitable carna
tion over the cheek, like the soft tints
of the summer sunset ? Strange it is,
also, that the face only, and that the
human face, is capable of blushing—
that the hand or foot does not turn red
with modesty or shame any mare than
does the hand or foot that covers them.
It is the face that hears the angel’s im
press, it is the face that is heaven. The
blush ot modesty that tinted woman’s
face when she awoke in Eden’s Sunny
land still lingcr’s with her fair daugh
ters. They caught it from the rose—
for all the roses were first white; but
when Eve plucked one, the bud, seeing
her own fair face—more fair than the
flowers—blushed, and cast its reflex on
her velvet cheek. The face is”the tablet
of the soul, whereon it writes its actions
There may be traced all the intellectual
phenomena with a confidence amount
ing to a moral certainty. If innocence
and purity look outward from within,
none the less do vice, intemperance and
debauchery make their indelible impres
sion upon it. Idioey, rage, cowardice
and passion leave their traces, deeper
even than the virtues of modesty, truth,
chastity and hope. Even beauty grows
more beautiful from pure thoughts that
arise within it.
Good Manners.
Manners are more important than
money. A boy who is polite and pleas
ant in his manners, will always have
friends, and will not often make ene
mies. Good behavoir is essential to
prosperity. A boy feels well when he
does well. If you wish to make every
body pleasant about you, and gain
friends, wherever you go, cultivate good
manners. Alany boys have pleasant
manners for home.
We visited a email railroad town not
long since, and were met at the depot
by a little boy of about eleven or twelve
years, who entertained and cared for us,
in the absence of his father, with as
much polite attention aud thoughtful
eare as the most cultivated gentleman
could have done. We said to his moth
er before we left her home, 44 Y r ou are
greatly blessed in your son, he is atten
tive and obliging.”
44 Yes,” she said : “ I can always
depend on Charley when his father is
absent. He is a great help and comfort
to me.” She said this as if it did her
heart good to acknowledge the clever
ness of her son.
The best manners cost so little, and
are worth so much, that every boy can
afford to have them.
How the Indians Dun. The
Hartford Courant reveals the following
theory : 44 There has been some philo
logical doubt as to the phrase 4 After
him with a sharp stick.’ It may have
occurred to some that the 4 sharp stiek ’
referred to is the much feared ‘January
hill.’ And it would seem there was
some ground for this. The Neeshenan
Indians of California have not the bru
tal and disagreeable habit prevalent
among us of sending dunning bills.—
When one Indian owes another, it is
considered had. taste, as it is, for the
creditor to dun the debtor. He proceeds
with more delicacy. He procures a cer
tain number of sticks, according to the
amount of the debt, and paints a ring
around the end of each. These he car
ries aud tosses into the debtor’s wig
wam, and then goes away without a
word. The debtor pays the debt and
destroys the sticks. It is considered a
reproach to have dunning sticks thrown
into the wigwam and the creditor never
uses them except with hard customers.”
How to Keep Poor. —Buy two
glasses of ale every day, at five cents
each, amounting in one year to $3650;
smoke three cigars, one after each meal,
counting up in the course of the year
to $54,75 ; keep a big dog, which will
consume in a year at least sls worth of
provisions, and cat $4 more, —altogeth-
er this amounts to the snug little sum
of sllO 25 —sufficient to buy sir bar
rels of flour, one hundred bushels of
coal, one barrel of sugar, one sack of
coffee, a good coat, and a respectable
dress, beside a frock for the lady, and
half a dozen pairs or more of shoes.—
Just think of it l
Chubb’s Alonso.
On Saturday night Chubb cnue
home very late, and when he went up
stars his wife and children were in bed
asleep. He undressed as softly as he
could and being thirsty, thought be
would get a drink of water. Fortu
nately he saw a goblet full standing on
the washstnnd, placed there, evidently,
for himself by Mrs. Chubb. He seized
it and drank the liquid in two or three
huge gulps, but just as he was draining
the goblet he gagged, dropped the glass
to the floor where it was shivered to at
oms, while he ejected something from
his mouth. He was certain a live ani
mal of some kind had been in the wa
ter and that ho had nearly swallowed
it. This theory was confirmed when he
saw the object which he spit out go
bounding over the floor. He pursued
it, kicking a couple of chairs over while
doing so, and at last he put his foot on
it and held it Os course Mrs. Chubb
was wide awake by this time and scared
nearly to death, and the baby was
screaming at the top of its lungs Airs.
Chubb got out of bed and turned up
the gas, and said :
“ Mr. Chubb, what in the name of
common sense is the matter ?”
44 It’s a mouse, Louisa.” shouted
Chubb in an excited manner. It’s a
mouse in the goblet. 1 nearly swal
lowed it, but I spit it out, and now I've
g>t my foot cn it. Get a stick and kill
it quick !”
Mrs. Chubb was at first disposed to
jump up on a chair and scream, for like
all women, she feared a mouse much
more than she did a tiger. But at Air
Chubb’s solicitation she got the broom
and prepared to demolish the mouse
when Chubb drew' ba.k his foot. He
diew back and she aimed a fearful blow
at the object and missed it. Then as it
did not move she took a good look at
it. Then she threw down the broom,
and after casting a look of scorn at
Chubb, she said:
44 Com* to bed, you old fool; that’s
not a mouse.”
“ What do you mean ?”
44 Why, you old simpleton, that’s the
jaby’s India-rubber bottle-top that l
put in the goblet to keep sweet. You
ought to be ashamed of yoursolf, car
rying on in this manner at one o’clock
in the morning.”
Then Chubb turned in. After this
he will drink at the pump. —Max Ad
der.
Social Intercourse.
Without friends what is man ? A
solitary oak upon a sterile rock, sym
metrical indeed is its form, beautifully
and exquisitely finished, outii alingthe
most lauded perfection of art in grace
fulness and grandeur,* hut over which
decay has shaken her black w'ng,
and left its leaves blighted, its roots
rottenness, and its bloom death —a
scathed, lifeless monument of its Chris
tine beauty. When the rebuffs of ad
versity are rushing us eastward, when
the clouds are dark above, and the mut
tering thunder growls along the sky,
when our frame, palsied by the skele
ton hand of disease, or our seuses whirl
ed in the maelstrom chaos of insanity,
when our hearts are torn by the separa
tion of some beloved object, while the
tears are yet flourishing upon the freso
turf of departed innocence—in that
time it is the office of friendship to
shield us from porteatious storm, to
quicken the pulses of our sickly frame,
to bring back the wandering star of
mind within the attraction of sympa
thetic kindness, pouc.the “oil and balm”
of peace into the yet festering wound
and deliver'the aching heart from the
object of its oleeding affection.
—
The Way to Avoid Calumny.—
If any one speaks ill of thee,” said
Epictetus “ consider whether he hath
truth on his side; and if so, reform
thyself, that his censures may not affect
thee.” When Anaximander was told
that the very boys laughed at his sink
ing, “Ay,” sa’d he, “then I must learn
to sing better.” Plato being told that
he had many en*mies who spoke ill of
him, said : 44 It is bo matter ; I will
ive so that none shall believe them.”
Hearing, at another time, that an inti
mate friend of his had spoken detract
ively of him, he said : 44 lam sure he
would not do it if he had not some rea
son for it.” This is the surest, as well
as the noblest way of drawing the sting
out of a reproach, and the true method
of preparing a man for that great and
only relief against the pains of calum
ny —a good conscience.
Fast Men. —The jvicious die early.
They fall like shadows, or tumble, like
wrecks and ruins, into the grave—of
ten when quite young, generally tiiis
side of forty. “The wicked shall not
live out half their days.” The world
at once stifles the truth, and simply
calls them “ fast menthat is, they
live fast, getting through twelve hours
in six. “ Their sun goes down while it
is yet day.” They might have helped
it. Many a man, humanly speaking,dies
long before his time. Burns, Byron,
Edgar Poe, and many obscure and name
less “ wandering stars,”, died in the
morning of life. Such Eton must die
early. They put on steam till they
blow up the boiler. They run at such
rate that the fire goes out for want of
fuel. The machinery is destroyed by
reckless and rapid wear.
Everyday Exaggerations.—“ I
am tired to death 1” So you have said
often and are alive still, and in good
health, too—“ I had not a wink of sleep
last night !” And yet the man in the
next room heard you snore several
times.—“ I would not do it for the
world !” And yet you have done many
things equally as bad for a penny. —
“ We were up to our knees in mud .’
You know very well that the dirt was
not over your shoes.
VOLUME I\ .-NO. 41.
FUN ITEMS.
What was Joan of Arc made of?
She was Maid of Orleans.
Any candidate f r office in Omaha
who wears a shirt collar is considered a
bloated aristocrat.
A rural statistician reports that more
people are talked to death by peddlers
of ligntning rods than ere killed by
lightning.
If there is one time more than an
other when a woman should be entirely
alone, says the Danbury mar, it is when
3 full line of clothes comes dowa in the
mud
La Mothe was not a great writer, but
he understood human nature. Find
ing that his book had a slow sale, he
procured a prohibition against the
reading of it, and every copy was dis
posed of.
'] he Western editor who asks if con
fessing one’s self a donkey is auricular
confession, has met bis quietus from a
brother of the goose quill who reminds
the former tint nebody should know
better than he.
Hones, supposed to belong to a boy,
were-found in digging on Gas Hill, this
morning. One pair were in good con
dition, and rung out merrily, when used,
but the other showed signs of decay.—
Danbury Alt n J
Jones, says the talk about “ shorten
ing the hours of labor” is all nonsense,
because if the hours were shortened he
would have to take more of them to do
his work, lie doesn’t want to work
more hours.
A bad little boy in Dubuque rubbed
cayenne pepper dust all over the baek
of his jacket. The school ma’m thrash
ed him briskly, but dismissed school im
mediately to run to the nearest drug
store for eyewater.
A Cincinnati seamstress uses a gray
squirrel as a motive power for running
her machine, and well he does his work
—not only sewing straight seams, but
hemming and gathering a ruffle as neat
y as could be done by human hands.
A Western paper says dealers in but
ter classify it as wool grease, cart grease,
soap grease, variegated, tassolated cow
grease, boarding house breakfast, inferi
or tub, common tub, medium roll, good
roll, and gilt-edge roll. The terms are
scrictly technical.
An affectionate Connecticut husband
recently sold his wife’s clothing, while
she lay upon her death bed, and sought
solace for his aching heart by visiting
Harnum’s hippodrome in New York.—
On his return home he found his wife
dead, and his only remark, was, •* How
natural she looks!”
“ Hans, how old arc you/” “Vender
old schools house is pilt, I vug two veeks
more as a year, rat is painter ret, as you
go home mit your back behint you, on
der right hand side of der old black
smith shop, vat sthands vere it vas
purnt down next year vill be two veeks.
The intellect of man sits visibly en
throned upou his forohead and in his
eye, and the heart of man is written
upon his countenance. But the soul
reveals itself in the voice only, as God
revealed himself to the prophets of old
in the still small voice, and in the voico
from the burning bush. — Longfellow.
We overheard a queer thing the oth«*
er day from the lips of two little girls
not over nine yea;s old. Each of them
had a baby in her arms, when tho elder
of the two said to her companion, “Sal*,
ly, can you tell a tip top lie ?” “ You
bet. Why?” says the other. “Why,
you take your baby, and PI) take mine,
and we’ll go round begging. You tell
people we are widows.”
Logic,—A dog coming open mouthed
at a soldier on a march, he ran the spear
of his halbert into his throat and killed
him. The owner coming out raved ex
tremely that his dog was killed, and
asked the soldier why he could not as
well have struck at him with the blunt
end of the halbert. “So I would,”
said lie, “If he hud run at me with
his tail.”
A lad rushing into the house of a
neighbor a few days ago said : “ Mam*
uiy sent me to borry a head of cabbage
and a little piece of meat to boil with
it; want to borry a rag to patch the
seat of Bill’s breeches; we are goin’ to
have a mighty cuttiu’ and slashiu’ to
our hourse to-day ; goin' to make Bill
anew coat out’n dad’s old’un,, and dad
anew one one out’n an old blanket.”
The Singalese language stands in the
front rank of all the spoken tongue* —
so far as names of places are concern
ed. In the Veyalow district there is a
village termed “GollyyouowethepTinter
enoughforabarrelofflour.” Another ham
let close by 'is styled “ Youhadbetter'
payhimbetorcyoudie.” “ A few more
are, Hencedsallyouowehim,” “ Better
payitnowandsaveyourcredit,” &e.
A performance of educated fleas is at
the present time attracting much atten
tion at Berlin. At a recent exhibition
one of the most accomplished of the
insects, obeying a sudden impulse of it*
nature, sprang from the table and took
refuge on the person of an illustrious
hdy. The exhibitor was in despair, as
the truant was his best performer, and
sail he would be ruined unless it could
be recovered. The lady good naturedly
retired to an adjoining room, and, after
a few minutes’ absence, returned with
the truant flea between her thumb and
forefinger. The exhibitor took it ea
gerly, gave «-nc look at it, aa l then,with
visible embarrassment, said : “ Your
Highness will pardon me, but this is not
the right flea.”