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B V FREEMAN & BRO.
Calhoun clinics.
Sacred.
I gaze upon her from a f ar,
slut dare not vcniure near ;
Her beauty is so sweet and pure
It fills my heart witt fear;
For what am I to dream of her—
A goddess robed in white ;
What right have l to hope to stand
Beside a thing so bright.
She comes and passes where I watch,
i I see her noble face,
The geiitle birtli that shows itself
In every nameless grace,
But what am I to gaze on her?
How false besi >e her truth !
Oh ! God, to beckon back the yeais
Os wasted life and youth !
A sinner listening from afar,
Outside a quiet chinch
While music from wituin floats out
Beneath the silent porch ;
So standing by the nameless graces,
Estranged by time and sin,
Jle hears the grand old sacred songs,
But dares not enter in.
THE FADED WRAPPER.
“ Are you not sorty that father has
gone away to stay over night, Alice ?”
said one of Mrs. Montgomery’s children
to his sister. “It rains so that no one
will call; and now mother will wear
that faded wrapper all day. I heard
her tell Barbara she should have a good
long day for sewing. She doesn’t think
it worth while to set even the diniilg
tooui table just for us.”
“ Don’t you wish she would spill ink
on that dress, Philip?” was the answer,
“ Then she wouldn’t wear it any more.”
“No, indeed, I don’t want it any
worse, for she would wear it just the
same rainy days and when papa is
awaff.”
Now mamma in the next room heard
this discussion of the children, and arose
to take a survey of herself in the look
ing glass. It was not a very pleasing
pictuie that the polished surface gave
hack to her view.
“Now Harry Warren’s mother,” said
Philip, “is always dressed nicely, any
time of day.”
“She wears such pretty bows on her
hair and neck,” said A'ice. “ But she
isn’t half so pleasant as our mother,”
she added loyally, “ff she does not look
prettier.”
The mother’s eyes glistened as she
looked down on the old wrapper.
“ To be compared to Aunt Warren,”
she thought, “and by my own children,
too*. Who would have thought they
were such sharp little things ? They
nolttfe trifle.”
Mrs. Montgomery’s spirit was quite
stirred. She would not allow such a
rival, rrtTe said to herself, if she could
collapse' her.
“ You shall bee disappointed about,
the old wrapper, for once, Mr. Phillip,”
she added, snfilin’g, so she took a soft,
bright dress, just tlie thing to enliven
a dull day. Then she puffed her hair
in her prettiest Style, and proceeded to
dress herself with unusual cure. The
delicate lace collar Was adorned with a
bow of palest ink, and her hair was tied
back with a ribbon to match.
It is wonderful how these simple ad*
ditions to the toilet changed her whole
appearance. A little taste does much
for a woman's toilet, and yet how small
often is the cost. A simple knot of
violet or crimson velvet will make a dull
dress look bright and even elegant. As
a great painter said, “trifles make per
fection, bat perfection, is no trifle.”
Mrs. Montgomery’s face wore a bright
cr look than usual that day, as she en
tered the nursery. Her dress had act
ually raised her spirits; but she was
hardly prepared for the burst of admi
ration that greeted her. It is not often
that compliments are sincere and heart
felt as were those of her little ones that
day. But her children’s tones quickly
changed to one of anxiety.
“Are you going away any where,mam
ma?” they asked directly.
“ No, dears, I am going to sew on
the machine all day; so we can have a
nioe time tegether.”
Little Alice hung over her chair a
minute admiringly, and fingered her
buttons, as she said, with a smile of
deep content in her eye :
“ You look nice, mamma.”
Mrs. Montgomery smiled, as she
threaded the needle of her machine,
*hile Philip added proudly ;
“ She looks nicer than Harry’s moth
er even when she has her silk dress on.”
That was reward enough; she had
eclipsed her rival.
“I’ll remember this day’s lesson,”
said mother, in her own heart; and
she did rememolT
TU day dress was u ?° mC( L an< *
they holped to rip “P
pleasure, It made excellent im.w r 7' r
anew one, and it often preached its old
sermon over, as it hung, wrong side out
-in the closet.
Mothers, when you allow yourselves
slovenlp ways among the little ones, in
the seclusion of tue nursery, remember
there’s a child there “ a takin’ notes.”
Those notes will be read even when
your head lies low. Os all the bright
pictures that hang on memory’s wall,
there is none to me so fair as a sweet,
loving mother, whose appearance was
always neat and tasteful, even in work
ing dress. Children may love an un
tidy mother, after a fashion, but they
can never respect her. She cannot keep
the hold on them in alter years that
one of the opp site habits possesses. —
Besides, if you are untidy yourself,
they will probably grow up to imitate
you. Don’t neglect the details of dress
that add so much to ap pcarauce,because
there will bo “no ouo about but the
children.”
- < » >• -
A man advertises in a New York pa
per for a bar keeper “ who must be re-
CQumiended by his pastor.”
Hirniii Green on Cremation.
“ To burn or not to burn,
That 'ore’s the question.
Whether it is better to
Suffer the old way of
Being planted like garden
Sass, or have one’s hones
And flesh cremated—
Like kindling wood—
Aye, tliore’s the rub,
— Skakspearc, Wm.
Skcensboro is excited about the new
tangled way of disposing of ourselves
after we shovel off this aortal quar
rel
Some folks think burning is rhtber
tough.
I heard Deacon Bowers, as he sat on
top of a sugar barrel in Simmon’s gro
cery store last night, declaie, “ that the
idea of cremating filled him with hor
ror,” and yet the Deacon somehow or
other don’t take no pains to avoid that
cremating, he is likely to get when he
goes hence.
When cremating gets to be fashiona
ble, I suppose it will bo practiced by
the cream of our society.
Poor folks will have a fellow-feeling
for the poor worms, and noi undertake
to do nothing to beat ’em out of Christ
mas dinners. When the be-a u-tiful
tenement of clay, which we wear to go
to church in—to do chores in—to at
tend to business in—to lie in—to swear
in, and cheat our beloved fellow Chris
tians in, is reduced to ashes, our ashes
are to be urned. The Troy Budget
thinks “it is hard enough to earn our
living without being obliged to urn our
dead.”
Did the Budget man ever think how
blessed it ill be timing some of our
dead acquaintances ?
At a meeting of the Skeensboro sew
ing circle the other night the subject
was discussed at length.
Every woman, to a man, declared
that they “ would not enter a fiery fur
nace for nobody, although several lone
ly spinsters declared they wouldn’t ob
ject to eating cream, but they would
rise and get up out of the fire and give
the boss fireman such a tongue lashing
that they never had before, if they un
dertook to cook them.”
Everybody is taking about crema
ting.
When the thing gets fashionable, I
suppose the marriages and deaths in the
newspapers will be put under the heads
of Mated and Cremated.
This placing the ashes of our dear
departed iu urns, and setting the same
away on the back closet shell, is rather
too much like pickling cucumbers, and
setting them away for next fall’s use. —
Imagine a garret filled with a long row
of jars, setting upon a back shelf, all
nicely labelled, “Grandmother’s ashes,”
“ Mary Jane, first wife of So und So,
her ashes,” “Thomas Joseph, son of
So and-Sd, his ashes ”
Then what confusion there might ex
ist, if some mischievous little fellow in
}*i the family should climb up, and
thinking he had got among nice jars of
jams, preserves, pickles, and other good
ies, pull over his grannmother, or his
father's first wife, or his sister Jane,
thus literally “covering himself with
sack cloth and ashes.” Then again,
when so ft soap making iiuie came
around, who knows but Bridget not be
ing able to read, should tumble several
labeled generations of our flesh and
blood into the lye kettle. The possibil
ity of washing a fellow’s hands with
his departed relations is rather discour
aging to contemplate.
But without wishing to joke about so
serious a subject, I’ve got acquaintances
whose ashes would be exceedingly rich
with lie.
But the question is ; “ To burn or not
to b**rr* ?” Someone has suggested
that 6ur remains be made useful by
selling them to our gas companies to he
turned into light
I know of a good many who are as
ful* of gas as a countiy village is full of
gossip, yet their gas never threw as
much light on any subject as would sup
ply a five minute old lightning bug with
stock to start business on. Nice gas
such chaps would make. I would a heap
sight rather have a tallow dip. The
reason a good many are in favor of be
ing burned when they first die, is to
provide against too sudden a change in
passing into a different climate. A good
red hot sizzling would help to gradually
accuston them to the climate where they
are goifig.
I don’t go very heavy on burning,
myself, although I would not do any
thing to deprive them as does of being
mated. %
’Tain’t my style. Give me a good
old-fashioned funeral, where true friends
assemble and drop tears of sorrow at
the old man’s departure and pay the
last sad rites to my memory, while my
enemi°* can have the satisfaction of sec
me planted oil' of si S ht and S oin g
u ‘*r , “Well I’?, clad I’ve
oft and saying- „ . ’ - ,
seen the last of Squ.: e Green, tuc old
man is planted, uow let's geo lnto his
ahoes.”
That’s how I feel and the way I want
to be put out of sight
Yours not a cremature,
Hiram Green, E.-q.,
Late Justice of the Peace.
A STINGY man, who pretended to be
very fond of his horse, but kept him
nearly starved, sa ; d to a friend, “ You
don’t kuow how much we all think of
that horse. 1 shall have him stuffed so
as to preserve him, when ho dies.” —
“ You’d better stuff him now,” retort
ed his friend, “soaa to preserve him
living.
An irascible old gentleman was taken
with sneezing in a most spasmodic way
eight or ten times; he arrested the par
oxysms for a moment, and extricating
his handkerchief, he thus indignantly
addressed his nasal organ : “Oh 1 go on
—go on; you'll blow your infernal
brains out directly.”
CALHOUN, GA„ WEDNESDAY, MAY 27. 1874.
Aversion to'Manual Labor.
The practice of educating boys for
the profession, which are already over
stocked, or for the mercantile business,
in which statistics she* that ninety five
in a hundred fail of success, is fearful*
ly on the increase in this country
Americans are annually' becoming more
and more averse to manual labor ; and
to get a living by one’s wits, even at
the cost of independence and self re
spect, and a fearful wear and tear of
donseience, is the ambition of a large
proportion of our young men. The re
sult is that the mechanical professions
are becoming a monopoly of foreigners,
and the ownership of the finest farms,
even in New England, is passing from
Americans to Irishmen and Germans.
Fifty years a«,o a father was not asham
ed to put his children to the plow or to
a mechanical trade ; but now they are
“ too feeble” for bodily labor ; one has
a pain in his side, another a slight
cough, another “ a veay delicate consti
tution,” another is nervous; and so
poor Bobby or Billy or Tommy is sent
off to the city to measure tape, weigh
coffee, or draw molasses.
It seems never to occur to their fool
ish parents that moderate manual labor
iu the pure and bracing air of the coun
try is just what these puny. wasp*waist
ed lads need, and that to send them to
the crowded and unhealthy city is to
send them to their graves. Let them
follow the plow, swing the sledge, or
shove the foreplane, and their pinched
chests will be expanded, their sunken
cheeks plumped out, and their lungs,
now “ cabined, cribbed, and confined/’
will have room to play. Their nerves
wilt be invigorated with their muscles;
and when they shall have cast off their
jackets, instead of being thin, pale,
vapid coxcombs, they shall have spread
out to the size and configuration of
men. A lawyer’s office, a eouuting
room, or a grocery, is about the last
place to which a sickly youth should be
sent. The ruin of health is as sure
there as in the mines of England.—
Even of those men in the city who have
constitutions of iron, only five per cent
succeed, and they only by “ living like
hermits, and working like horses” ; the
rest, after years of toil and anxiety,
become bankrupt or retire : and having
meanwhile acquired a thorough disgust
and unfitness for manual labor, bitterly
bemoan the day when they forsook the
peaceful pursuits of the country for the
excitement care, and sharp competition
of city life. — M. Quad in What Next.
Three Card Monte.
A Paducah mule driver had an amu
sing adventure on the train on his way
home from Baltimore a few days since.
Perching himself upon the arm of a
seat he added to the mirth of the pas
sengers by relating his adventures in
Baltimore :
“ Well, boys, I’m jest from town ;
sold my mule and am gwine back to
Paduky. Santering ’round last night
I got lost; hired a hack and was tuk to
the big tavern with marble-slab floor;
went out agin and dropped in to see the
snake show ; '■bowmen tuk me to a
glass-kivered case full of watches and
jewelry and “ snaked” me out of a
smart pile trying to win a watch for bet,
drapped in another place ; fellow had
three kyards, and bet me a V. I could’t
pick up the one with a pictur on it,
picked up the wrong un every time and
lost my pile ; but I’ll git even when I
get home. You see Bill Thomas is
courting my sister ; I’ll play the pictur
game on him, win his horse, bridle, and
make him walk home. Paid four dol
ors at the tavern for lodgings ; three
dollaas extra for light, tried to blow it
out, and burnt my fingers trying to
snuff the thing.”
“ I give that fellet a dollar fur three
kyards; git ’em here. Come, now
boys, who’ll bet a V on the pictur?”
“ I’ll bet three dollars I can pick it
up,” said a city youth.
“ Oh ! You’re too smart; you’ll want
your money to buy your breakfast. I’ll
bet you fifty dollars aginst your
watch.”
“ Done,” said the city youth, and
“ Peduky” had that watch in the twin
kling of an eye. Just then the whistle
blew, the c:vrs stopped and “ Peduky”
stepped from the train to the platform
and was lost in the darkness. It then
occurred to the city boy that he'd heard
of “ three card monte,” but did not
think a Peducah mule-driver could play
it.
A Wise ( heice.
The American Baptist teHs the fol
lowing good story. Which we commend
to our young female readers, and males
also :
“ Where did you first n.set With your
bride ?” I said to a young friend of
mine, who had invited me to his wed
-1?.. .
uuig.
His reply was : “ A year ago I was
—e of a large dinner party of ladies
and gentled, at which » young lady
was noticed not vd drink anj . uic-
Our host observed it ami :
“ A glass of wine with you, miss.
“ Excuse me, sir,” said she.
“What excuse? Are you a teeto
taler ? What! have we a teetotaler
here ? Ha ! ha! a teetotaler ! Why,
do you never drink wiue
“ Never, sir.”
“ Why not ?”
“ From principle, sir.’
Nothing more was said Her decis
ion of character deeply impressed me.
I sought an introduction to her, satisfied
that one of such principles would make
me a good companion. I became a tee
totaler myself, and r.ow she has just be
come my wife. That is why I married
her.
Our friend was right. Such a young
lady will make a fine woman. Would
there were more like her.
The Drunkard s Cure.
Some months ago a gentleman adver
tised that he had discovered a sure
specific for the cure of drunkenness
He would not divulge the secret of
what compounds he used, but furnished
the medicine at so much per bottle
lie did not have so many applicants for
his cure as he expected of the disease
In fact, the more malignant cases did
not seem anxious for relief; they rather
appeared to enjoy the malady. A few.
however, placed themselves nnder treat
ment and some were cured—whether
by taking the medicines, or by not tak
ing strong drinks, is not stated. One
of the cured ones had faith in the med
icine, rigidly carried out the directions
of the doctor, and now has not the least
taste for intoxicating drinks; whereas,
one yeas ago he was an inebriate, and
could hot get along with less than a
pint to a quart of whisky per day. He
said that, at some trouble and expense,
he had procured the recipe for prepara
tion of the medicines, which he had
published for the benefit of suffering
humanity. It is as follows : Sulplicfte
of iron, five grains ; peppermint water,
eleven drachms; spirit of nutmeg, one
drachm. Twice a day. This prepara
tion acts as a tonic and stimulant, and |
so partially supplies the place of the
accustomed liquor, and prevents that
absolute physical and moral prostration
that follows a sudden breaking off from
the use of stimulating drinks. It is to
be taken ia quantities equal to an ordi
nary dram, aud as often as the desire
for a dram returns.
Max Adder’s Church.
Ours is the church on
the continent. We had hoped to con
duct the services in quietness after the
last demonstration of our deaf member,
Mr Colla more, but we were disappoint
ed. Young Shooks came to church last
Sunday with Miss Jones, and his pet
terrier came to church with him and set
tled on the floor of the pew. Shooks at
first thought he would send the animal
home, but he didn't like to make a fuss
in the churchy so he let it remain.—
M iss Jones, however, did not know that
the dog was there. When they stood
up to sing, the dog leaped on the seat
immediately behind Miss Jones, and
when she sat down her whole weight
came upon the terrier. She gave a
loud scream and leaped to her feet,
while the dog barked and bit at her,
and Shooks in a loud voice ordered him
to he quiet. There was instant confu
sion in the church, and old Mr. Colla
moie misunderstanding the cause of it,
raised a cry of tire and rushid frojn the
building. A panic ensued, and the
congregation made for the door. A
moment afterward an engine arrived,
and in a minute it had a three-inch
stream playing through one of the win
dows On the hinamost of the congrega
tion By the time there were two inch
es of water on the floor of the church
the matter was explained, and the en
gine went home. The damages will
amount to about four hundred dollars.
If Collamore is suppressed, we shall
give up our pevv and resign*.
Beams of Gold.
What is it that cheers the weary and
heavy laden mother who toils early and
late that her little ones may be fed?
The golden beams of happy antieipus
lion of a future when her children are
men and women, able to care for her
and themselves. God only knows what
she suffers, aud how the mother love
and instinct make her strong io endure’
When the covers are snugly tucked
around the dear little bodies, and rosy
faces speak the story of gentle sleep,
the widow, on bended knee, tha'nks
heaven for health and strength, and
prays that not one of her darlings shall
be taken from her care. She will work
and slave to support her children, and
if at night she can gather them all
around her knee, and tell them of their
father who lies out in the cold church
yard, and of their Father in Heaven,
and the beautiful world He has given
them to enjoy—she will count all pri
vations pleasures.
After years of toil and care the gold
en beams gather to crown the brow of
a woman who is faithful to the last.—
Her children strew her pathway with
roses of love. Or, if one, or two, or
all of them, are insensible to their ob
ligations to her, and every earthly thing
seems fraught with bitterness, beams of
gold make her radiant in immortal
robes, and Over There angels will glad
ly nestle in the warmth of her great
n o her love.
The Book of Thanks.
“ I feel so vexed and out of temper
with Bea,” cried Mark, “ that l realiv
must” —
“Do something in revenge !” inquired
his cousin Cecilia.
“No; look over my book of thanks.”
“ What’s that?” said Cecilia, as she
saw him turning over the leaves of a
copy book, nearly full of writing in a
round text hand.
“ Here it is,” said Mark. Then he
read aloud.
“ March S’h —Ben lent me his hat.”
“ Here again : Jan 1th —when I lost
my shilling Ben made it up to me kind
ly. Well,” observed the boy, turning
down the leaf, “Ben is a good hoy after
all.” Wh it do you note down in that
book ?” asked Cecilia, looking over his
shoulder with some curiosity.
“ All the kindoessess that are ever
shown me; you would wonder how
many they are. I find a great deal of
good from marking them down. I do
not forget them, as I might do if I on
ly trusted to my memory, so I hope
that lam not often ungrateful; and.
when I am cross and out of temper, 1
almost always feel good humored again
if I only look over my book.”
“ Farewell Eye**”
A Worcester occulist was called upon
by a tough old customer of sixty,whose
eyes showed plainly that brandy-and
water was no stranger to him, and his
breath corroborated painfully the state
ment of his eyes. The doctor exam**
ined him and suggested that ardent spir
its might have something to do with his
condition.
“ Ob, no,” said the fellow, “ I don’t
dririk enough to hurt anybody ; I take
something stimulative when I get up,
and then again just before breakfast,
then only once at eleven o’clock aud a
little dose before and after dinner to
help digestion—don’t take anything
more till four o’clock, and only a little
more before and after supper and just
before I go to bed ”
“ That all ?” said the doptor.
“Never take anything 5 more unless
somebody asks me,” said the man.
“Well, sir,” said the doctor, “I think
I can cure your eyes, but it will be nec
essary for you to leave off drinking en
tirely.”
“ What!” said he, in amazement;
“ can’t I take just a little?” “ No, sir,
not a drop, and if you do not leave off
drinking you are liable to become
blind.”
“ Then farewell, eyes,” said the old
toper, as he seized his hat and made
for the door, evidently afraid the doctor
would prescribe for him before he could
get out.
Sometliing’Like” an/Apoiogj .
The editor of a Western paper once
gave a notice of a ball, and happened in
cidentally to mention that the dancing
of Major Heeler’s better-half was like
“ the cavortiug of a fly-bitten cow in a
field of cucumbers.”
The fact that the editor had ndt been
invited to the ba 1 may somewhat detract
from the value of the simile, while at
the same time it accounts for his estab
lishing his figure.
The Major, accompanied by his bet
ter-half and a six shooter, called on the
editor to complain of the poetical uatfife
of the image.
On learning that the lady was the
One he had described, the editor be
sought her to raise her veil. She did
so, adding :
“ Now, sir, I expect you to apolo
gize.”
“ Apologize ! I should rather think
I was the answer, a.*’ he seized
his hat and rapidly left the room.
The astounded Major rushed to the
window.
“ Stop, sir, you haven’t apolo
gized !”
“ All right, I’m going to do it in a
minute !”
“ What do you mean ?” shouted the
major, accentuating the note of interro
gation with a pistol bullet.
The answer was wafted back from
round the next corner :
“ Can’t you see I’m looking for that
cow!”
Monaco Gambling Halls.
The little Italian principality of Mon
aco, consisting of a rocky promontory
projecting into the Mediteranean about
eight miles northwest of Nile, has reap
ed a golden harvest in Consequence of
closing up of the great German gamb
ling resorts. It does not possess more
than three quarters of a mile radius
from its ceutral point, and having no
trade, could not exist but for the ad
venturers who flock to its gambling
tables item every part of Europe. The
population numbers about a thousand
souls, and nearly five times that num-*
her of its hotels and lod
ging-houses during the fashionable sea
son. The town is handsomely hjiilt;
shops, hotels < cases, and restaurants line
all the streets, while Casino, now the
resort of thosa disciplies of rouge-et
uoir and roulette who have been driven
out Os Baden is
a very elegant and spacious structure. —
A revenue of not less than 81,000,000
per annum is derived from the gambling
tables alone The popular proverb of
Monaco, “We live upon a rock; we
neither sow nor reap, but we must live,”
sharply defines the morality, or rather
immorality, of the inhabitants/
—_— ►-
To YonnrTMen 3 . ]
Some old genius gives the following
excellent advice to young men who
“ depend on father” for their support
and take no interest in business, but are
regular drones in the hive, subsisting
on that which is earned by others :
“ Come off with your coat, clinch the
saw, the plow handles, the axe, the
pick-axe, the spade —anything that will
enable you to stir your blood ! Fly
round and tear your jacket, rather than
be the vass’Ve" recipient ofthe old man’
bounty ! Sooner than play the dandy
at dad’s expense hire yourself to a po
tato patch, let yourself out to stop holes,
or watch the bars, and when you think
yourself entitled to a resting spell, do
it on your own hook. Get up in the
morning—turn around at least twice be
fore breakfast —help the old gentleman'
—give him a lift in business, learn how
to take the lead, and not depend forev*.
er on being led ; you have no idea how
the discipline will benefit you. Do this
and our word for it, you will soon
breathe anew atmosphere, possess a
new frame, tread anew earth, wake to
destiny—and you may begin to aspire
to manhood.”
A Great Truth.— The Moderator
of a certain presbytery in Scotland
orce said to a caadidite for the minis
try, who had left broom—making; “My
younir friend, the presbytery believes
that all men should gloiify God in some
way —some by preaching, some by mak
ing brooms, and that you are one who
should make the brooms.”
FUN if EMS;
%
. A table of interest—The dinner ta
| ble.
Too late foi the fair—An old bach
elor.
Cremation makes light of a grave
subject.
To noo-adrcrtiscrs we impart a se
cret. The world moves.
Is a man with corns eligible to mem
bership as a Granger?
I’ailor, measuring fat customer— :
“M ould you hold the end, sir, while I
go round ?”
A Hoboken editor, being challenged,
sent word in reply : “ When I tc’
die I can shoot myself.”
“He handled his gun carelessly, and
put on his angel plumage,” is the latest
Western obituary notice.
The Western women have in a great
degree stopped praying in public and
are making up their summer clothes.
“A stitch in time saves nine.”—The
first impression of \ needle upon a Tent
obviateth a nine-fold introduction.
“ ’Tis an ill wind that blows nobody
good.”—That gale is truly diseased
which puffeth bencfactiou to nonentity.
“The least said, tbe soonest mended.”
—The minimum of an offensive remark
is cobbled with the greatest prompti
tude.
A little boy heard his mother tell of
eighteen head of cattle ceing burnt the
other night. “Weren’t their tails burnt
also ?” inquired the verdant youth.
A cautious Evansville reporter,- in
speaking of a man both of whose legs
were cut off by a railroad train, says,
“He will probably be a cripple for life.”
Waiter (to old gent at restaurant.)- —
Take any pastry, sir ? Old gent (to
waiter). —Y’es, bring me a pancake;
wili it be long? Waiter.—No, sir;
round.
A Down Easter believes there is
nothing like advertising. He lost his
pocket-book recently, advertised his loss
in the local newspaper, and next morn
ing went down iutoj his own cellar and
found it on the floor.
A Tennessee lady presented her hus
band with twins, and in due season add
ed triolets. “ Dear mo !” exclaimed an
astonished Neighbor, “I s’posc Mrs.
Stebins will have quadrupeds next, and
then centipedes !”
As two children were playing togeth
er, little Jaue got angry and pouted
Johnny said to her : “ Look out, Jane,
or I’ll take a scat up there on your lips.”
“ Then,” replied Jane, quite cured of
her pouts, “ I’ll laugh, and you’ll fall
off.”
An Illinois woman, when they first
began to have Congressmen at-large out
there, hearing the fact alluded to, rush
ed into the kitchen, exclaiming, “Sarah
Jane, don’t leave the clothes out to
night, for there is a Congressman at
large.”
A k*nd physician living near Boston,
wishing to smooth the hast hours of a
poor woman whom he was’ attending,
asked her if there was anything he
could do for her before she died. The
poor soul, looking up, replied ; “Doctor,
I have always thought I should like to
have a glass butter dish before I died.”
“ Oh ! Mary, my heart is breaking,”
said an Aberdeen lover to his High
land Mary. “Is it, indeed? So much
the better for yoCf,’ - was her quiet re
ply. “ Why, my idol ?” “ Because,
Mr. McSmith, when it’s broken out and
out, you can sell the pieces for gun
flints.”
A Detroit gentleman prides himself on
his fine fowls, and his neighbor is equal
ly vain of a fine coach dog. r J he dog
worries the life out of the chickens
A few days ago the owner of the dog
recived the following note : “ Friend—
You keep dogs, I keep chickens. If
my chickens worry your dogs, shoot
} })
em.
Couldu’t think of it. A gentleman
was admiring a young lady’s hair the
other evening. “ Miss D . plese
give me one little curl-—just one, won’t
you?” he pleaded. “Couldn’t think
of it, Mr. ; couldn’t think of it for
a moment,” replied the young lady
briskly. “ Those curls cost me five
shillings apiece,”
Two Irishmen were working irr a
quarry, when one of them fell into a
deep quarry hole, The other alarm
ed, come to the margin of the hole, and
cried out, “ Arrah, Pat, are you kilt
intirely ? If you’re dead, spake.” Pat
reassured him from the bottom by say
ing,, in answer: “ No, Tim, I’m not
dead, but I’m spacheless.”
A Granger’s Dream.— A Granger
dreamed that he died. He went straight
to the spirit-world ; he knocked at the
gate of the New Jerusalem, and it was
opened unto him. The books were
opened ; he was asked, “ Did you ever
belong to any se^jetsociety ?” To which
he replied, 44 1 did —to the Grangers.”
“Then, sir, you can't be admitted ; de
part.” He then went to the door of
the bottomless pit, where the same ques
tions were again asked him by the Dev
il, and again ho was told to depart
After he had gone a little way off, he
was accosted by the homely ruler of the
pit, when the following p oposition was
made: “ Stranger,” said Nick, “I will
not admit you here ; they do not want
y#u in Heaven; but I will sell you two
hundred barrels of brimstone tor cash,
ten per cent, off, and you can start a
little hell of your own, with no agents
or middle-men.”
VOLUME IV.--NO. 45J.
HOUSEHOLD HINTS*
•French Pomadr. —Any ordinary
i pomade, four ounc< 8; spermaceti, a
quarter of an ounce ; oil of almonds,
one ounce a half; white wax, half an
ounce. Mix.
Quick Podding. —Two large spoot>
fuls of. sage boiled in one quart of milk,
the peel of a lemon 4 ; littfe nutmeg; wherf
cool add four eggs; little salt llake
about one houY and a half. Kit with
sugar and cream.
Djsn for the Sick—so one teasupf
of cream take four rolled or grated
crackers, one teaspoon ful of white su
gar, the white of one egg beaten to rt.
froth, with a teaspoonful of jelly of
any kind.
Cream Custard —Mir a pint of
cream w'th one of milk, free beatfcrf
eggs, a tahlespnonful of flour and three
of sugar. Add nutmeg to the taste;
and bake the custard in cups <sr pie
plates in a quick oven.
Poor Man’s Loaf. Cass. —Five
teacups of flour. fWo t£ii#pd of sugar;
two-thirds teacup oT butter, one tea
spoonful of soda, two teaspoon fuls of
creaui tarter, and raisins and spice. Wet
with milk and sfir together till 6f the
thickness of common cake.
Alcohol for Burn*. —Sydenham
recommends the application of alcohol
to burns, especially for children, whose
immediate relief is desirable. Tho al
cohol should be applied fuf one or two
hours constantly, as the pain returns
dry. In •'use of large burns caro must
be taken lest the alcoholic vapors stu
pefy the child.
Boned Chicken. —ln preparing
boned chicken, one cracker pounded
very fine and added to the water the
chickens were boiled in, aid misted
thoroughly with the chopped meat, is
a decided improvement. For two me
dium sized chickens there should not
Pe more than a cup of water. Season
with salt and pepper.
The following is given as a sure cure
for felon on the finger : Take coni'*
rnon rock salt, such as is used for salt-*
ing down pork and beef, dry it in tho
oven, then pound it fine and mix it
with the spirits of turpentine in equai
parts. Put it on a rag and wrap it
round the thumb, and as it gets dry put
on some more, aud in 24 hours wo arc
assured the felon will be dead.
Raw Beef for Children. —Take
half a pound of juicy beef, free from
any fat; mince it up very finely; then
rub it into a smooth pulp either in a
mortar or with an ordinary potat -
smasher. Spread a little out upon a
plate and sprinkle over it some salt, or
some sugar if the child prefers it.—
Give it with a teaspoon or upon a but
tered slice of stale bread. It makes
an excellent food for children with the
dysentery.
Weak Hair. —Take oil of rosema
ry, one part; oil of sweet almonds, one
part ; saturated solution of borai, two
parts; all by volume. To every half
pint add one fluid drachm of tincturo
of cantharides and a few drops of am
monia solution. Apply two
oi three times a week. This is a capi-'
tal emulsion, and usually answers re
markably well; at any rate, those who
have tried it say so.
Potato Bread.— Take six good
s z :d potatoes, boil aerd mash very fine.
Add three pints boiling water. Stir
floir in till it makes a stiff batter.—
When lukewarm, add your yeast, set it
in a moderately warm place to rise ;
knead again, adding as little flour as
possible. Let it rise again, and then
put it into your pans making them half
full. When the loaves have risen to
the top of the pans, bake them good
brown.
Milk for Ciiildrbn. —Dr. Gardner
suggests that young children should be
fed on the milk of a farrow cow, since
it has not been deprived of its essential
ingredients to nourish the year’s calf.
“ If any one questions the effect of dou
ble attempt at nutrition, le* him com
pare the milk in ordinary use with that
of a farrovt cow. The latter is small
in quantity, thick, redundant iu cream
;Of a very high flavor. This is the
milk destined to strengthen the bone3
and invigorate the body."
Cure for Catarrh.—According to
Harniiton, the severest catarihal col l
can be removed in about ten hours by a
mixture of carbolic acid, 10 drop, ;
tincture of iodine and chloroform each
71 drops. A few drops of the mixture
should b*» heated over a spirit-lamp, in
a test tube, the "mouth of which should
be applied to the nostrils as soon as vol
atilization is effected. The operation
should be repeated in about two min*
utes, when, after the patient sneezes a
nnmber of times, the tfoil)lesome symp
toms rapidly disappear.
WflrtK Cake.—Three cups of sift
ed floilr, one and a half cups of sugar,
one egg, one teacup of sweet milk, two
tablespoonfuls of butter, two teaapoons
ful of cream tartar, one teaspoonful of
soda, and one teaspoonfu! of vanilla, al
mond or lemon essence. Beat the but
ter and sugar to a cream, dissolve the
soda in the milk, and add to it, with
egg well beaten and the essence. Mix
with this very slowly three caps of
flour, putting the cream tartar into the
last cupful. Bake in quick oven. It
makes a delicious cake for jell}", choco
late or cocoa-nut layers. If the latter
is used, grate a large remov*
ing the brown skin first; then add to
it the beaten white of one egji and one
egg and one coffee cap of fiue 6ugar. —
Stir it all together ard spread between
the layers of cuke, icing the upper lay
er. This receipt will make three lay
ers of cake and a plateful of small
frosted cakes.