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CaJUramt
PUBLISHED WEDNESDAYS
By D. B. Freeman, Proprietor.
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
*Mie Year $2.00
Six Months 1.00
Ten copies one year 15.00
Communications on matters of pub
lic interest solicited.
Jtailrdad
WESTERN & ATLANTIC RAILROAD.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN—OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta 8:40 a. m
At rive Calhoun 12:40 p. M
“ Chattanooga 850 p. m
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN —INWARD.
Leave Chattanooga 5:15 p. m.
Arrive Calhoun 8:31 a. m.
“ Atlanta 12:35 p. m.
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN —OUTWARD.
LcaYe Atlanta...i;:.:;:: .5:65 P. M.
Arrive Calhoun 9:41 p. m.
< Chattanooga 12:30 a. m.
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN—INWARD.
Leave Chattanooga 4:00 p. m.
Arrive Calhoun 6:38 p. m.
Atlanta 10:15 p. m.
ACCOMMODATION TRAIN —OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta 8:50 p. m.
Arrive Calhoun 10:28 P. m.
Dalton 11:55 p. m.
Accommodation train —inward.
teave Dalton LOO a. m.
Arrive Calhoun 3:00 a. m.
• ‘ At1anta:.....:::;..;..: 10:08 A. M
professional & harness Cards.
J. KIKER & SON,
attorneys at law,
Will practice in all the Courts of the Cher*
likee Circuit; Supreme Court ot Georgia, and
the United States District Court at Atlanta,
Ga. Office: Sutheast corner of the Court
House, Calhoun, Ga.
TTV\IN & MILNER,
attorneys at law,
oa£houn, ga
Will practice in all the Superior Courts of
of Cherokee Georgia, the Supreme Court of
the State and the United States District and
Circuit ourts, at Atlanta.
AN KIN & NEEL,
attorneys at law,
CAlitlOtfN, GA.
gffyr, Office : Court House Street.
j D. TINSLEY,
Watch-Maker & Jeweler,
CALOUN, a A .
All styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry
neatly repaired and warranted.
UFE WALDO THORNTON, D. D. S..
DENTIST.
Office over Geo. W. Wellß & Co.’s Agricul
tural Warehouse.
lyj ISS C. X” HUDGINS,
dilliner & Maiitua-Maker,
Court llous6 St., Calhoun,Ga.
Patterns of the latest styles and fashion
ladies just received. Gutting and
done to order.
MUSIC 1 MUSIC!
A large variety of new and select music
direct from Philadelphia, kept constantly on
hand and for sale by Mrs. J. E. Parrott.
She also gives notice that she will instruct
in music at her residence. Terms, per month,
$4.00 ; use of instrument. 50 ennts. Recep
tion days, Tuesdays and Thursdays.
ZT GRAY,
, CALHOUN. GA„
Is prepared to furnish the public with
Buggies and Wagons, bran new and war'■ant
ed. Repairing of all kinds done at short
notice. Would ctll attention to the cele
rated “Fish Brothers’ Wagon which he fui
ni-hes. Call and examine before buying
elsewhere.
XE \V GROCERY STORE.
j. Marsliall,
RAILROAD ST., OLD STAND OF
A. W. B LLEW.
FRESH GOODS, BOUGHT FOR
CASH, AND WILL BE SOLI)
FOR CASII AT TIIE VE RY
LOWEST PRICES.
Would respectfully ask bis numerous
friends in Gordon county to come in and
see him before making purchases elsewhere.
1 PROPOSE TO OPEN ON
Monday, January 10th, 18 c 5,
CALHOUN MALE AND FEMALE
high school.
Assisted by Mis. M. E. FIELD, a known
and experienced instructress. The school
will be ivided into three grades, the Pri
mary. Intermediate and Academic. Ihe
PRIMARY DEPARTMENT
will embrace the following studies:
Holmes’ Speller and Reader., Nos. 1,
2 3 and 4, Maury’s Geography,
No. 1, Primary Arithmetic and
Practical Lessors in Penmanship, S2OOO
INTERMEDIATE.
English Grammar, Geography, Mau
ry’s Intermediate Arithmetic,
First Lessons in English Compo
sition, Penman hip, and Algebra
through Simple Equations, with
Reading, Elocution and Spelling, S3OOO
ACADEMIC.
9h : loo| by Natural and Moral Chem
istry, Rhetoric. Algebra, Geome
try. and socb studies as are usu
ally taught in high schools with
Latin, Greek and French S4O 00
Fine \rts and Instrumental Music at Pro
fe.H>or’s charges.
Th - scholastic year will be divided into
two term- ot 24 and 16 weeks each.
TUITION FEES.
; v • ’ partn*ent, Ist terra sl2 00
“ “ 18 00
V- i t rate “ “ “ 24 00
Imc Mental expenses p >r term.., 1 00
Tuition paid quarterly in advance.
It is desired that patrons send in prompt
ly tlie first week, that all may be present at
the formation of classes. We earnestly so
licit the patronage of the vicinity and coun
ty, and hope by arduous effort to merit your
continued support.
W. C. HOLMES, A. M., Principal,
Mrs..M. E. FIELD. Assistant.
ov2C-tf
CaUjoun uktftln Whites.
VOL. V.
WOMAN'S RIGHTS.
One day at school
I told the boys
’Twas wrong to chew tobacco,
A six year-old,
Grown very bold,
Presumed to give his veto,
Says he, “I saw
A fellow chaw
Because he had the toothache ;
’Taint never wrong
For any one
To chaw that has the toothache,”
The school agreed
With him ; indeed
His logic charmed the urchins.
Quite puzzled, 1
Could Scarce reply
At first to his assertions.
A happy thought
However brought
Relief from Greeley’s namesake,
“ Horace,” I said,
“ If a girl instead
Should chance to have the toothache,
And want to chew,
What should she do ?”
Like older ones by time unschooled,
He scratched his head,
And then he said,
“ She’d orter have the tooth pulled.”
“ I KNOW IT<*
At eighteen years of age, I was more
of a man than 1 have ever been since.
I wore a long tailed coat, and boots, (to
which appurtenaDce spurs were gener
ally added,) a mustache was quite vis-
: ble on my upper lip, and a conscious
ness of ripe maturity never left my
mind. I was studying for the legal
profession, but at the time of which I
write, was spending my summer vaca
tion at my father’s house in the coun
try.
Though so manly, (almost soldier like
in my appearance,) my inner was by no
means so stern as my outer man. I
loved my mother with childish tender
ness, and sooner than pain her pious
heart, I unmurmuringly accompanied
her every Sunday to the village church
to listen to long sermons of which I
could not hear a word, for the tremu*
lous accents of the very aged minister,
who conducted the services, were so
faint as to be inaudible where we sat
Though incited by love and duty to
subject myself to this weekly penance,
(well deserved by my weekly sins) my
conscience did not nrevent me from
whiling away the time by such amuse
ment as lay at hand —that, namely of
observance and speculating on the coun
tenances of my neighbors, an occupa
tion of which I was fond.
The physiognomy which interested
me more than all others, was that of a
young girl who sat not far from us,
and who was accompanied by an aged
lady, probably her grandmother —the
object of her sweet watchful care. The
girl’s face, from first eliciting my care
less admiration, gradually absorbed my
whole attention. It was very beautiful,
but apart of that it possessed the great
est possible interest forme. Never had
I seen a countenance which denoted as
much sensibility ; each emotion of her
mind was plainly written upon it by its
quick, delicate changes, nothing was
wanted but the key of a corresponding
degree of sensibility in the beholder, to
read her tender innocent soul like an
open book. For hours I gazed and
speculated on that fair young face —1
thought how sad would be the lot of so
sensitive a beiug, should fate unite her
to one who would not know how to read
aright what was so delicately written—
to whom the varying expression of the
sweet countenance would be but a blank
—should be able to see in it only its
coarser part —beauty of feature. There
was no end to the reveries into which
those swift coming blushes led me.
Sometimes, by chance, the fair ob
ject of my busy fancies would catch my
eye, or, without looking at me seem to
know or feel that I was gazing at her,
and I wickedly delighted in noting the
blush which deepened on her cheek till
1 withdrew my eyes.
One Sunday, I happened, in coming
out of church, to be close to my public
neighbor —immediately behind her
my hand actually touched her uncon
scious garments—l felt an irresistible
desire to force her in some way to no
tice me—-to speak to her to occasion
one of those charming blushes —any-
thing—l knew not what. In short like
an impertinent coxcomb as I was, 1
stepped forward, and with an insuffera
ble insolence, which I blush now to
remember, 1 whispered in her ear—
“ You are very pretty !”
Never was I more surprised, than
when she c luily replied ;
“ I know it!”
“ 1 was absolute 1 y startled. I had
expected a silent, conscious blush an
indignant glance —anything rather than
this cool, •* l know it.”
I was puzzled, but I had plenty of
time to turn the matter in my mind, for
in a few days I returned to I
can truly say it was the oue problem,
which throughout the term gave me
most trouble to solve and cost me most
thought.
Another year elapsed ere I returned
home, and again sat in the little village
church. My personal appearance was,
meanwhile somewhat altered. I still
wore my mustache, it is true, but my
coat tails were not, or did not seem
quite so loug, and I had left off my
spurs.
My mother and I were early seated
in our pev , and l impatiently waited
for the arrival of my lovely enigma. I
tried to prepare myself for disappoint*
ment. “ I have been thinking and
dreaming about an idea, l said to niy
seß—“ doubtless when the young lady
herself appears all ry fine imaginings
will vanish —there can be no doubt my
fancy ha* been playing tricks with me,
investing a mere country maiden with
transcendent graces and charms.
While I was reasoning thus to myself,
CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24. 1875.
the young lady appeared, leading her
old relative with tender cafe.
Worshipping an “ ideal,” indeed ! my
most charming remembrance did not
begin to do justice to the beautiful real
ity. A soul full of te-’derness and sen
sibility seemed to have found a fitting
home in a person and face of perfect
loveliness and grace. She blushed
when, looking round, she chanced to see
me j again the play of expression on
her features which had so interested me
formerly, charmed me
The more I studied her face the
more 1 seemed to see into the pure
depths of her soul. I could have
staked my life on her noble purity of
thought and deed As we returned
home, I described my fair neighbor to
my mother and asked who she was.
“ Her name,” my mother said, “ is
Grace Denny ; and she is the loveliest
—the most superior young woman I
have ever in my whole life met with. —
It is too soon to think of such things
jet,” she continued smiling, “ but some
years hence it would make me happy to
see my dear son married to just such a
woman.”
“ Not quite so fast, mother,” said I,
laughing a good deal to hide a little
boyish embarrassment which I was anx
ious to conceal.
1 found that Grace had become a
constant visitor at my mother’s, and I
did not fail to improve the opportunity
of becoming better acquainted with
her.
She was indeed a gifted creature, en
dowed with all of “ nature’s best.” She
san , she danced, she conversed with an
indescribable grace peculiar to herself.
Though generally thoughtful and ear
nest in her demeanor, she had a vein of
quiet humor, and her strokes of playful
drollery charmed all the more from be
ing unexpected. But more alluring to
me than all her gifts and accomplish
ments, was the shrinking sensibility de
picted on every feature of her sweet
lace. I soon found myself deeply- —
painfully interested in her. I s&y pain
fully, fur Grace received my ass duou
attentions with a perfect coolness and
unconcern which met great uueasiness
Sometimes I thought she remembered
my early impertinence, and was disposed
to punish it. Hut there was a rival, a
cousin of Grace’s, who always stood in
my way, and from whom Grace re<.
ceived, as a matter of course, < umber
less little attentions which I dared not
even offer. I hated this man ; 1 was
insufferably jealous ; but Grace seemed
either perfectly unconscious, or perfect
ly indifferent to the by splay of ani
mosity which was carried on between
us.
Grace, sweet, noble Grace, with her
child like simplicity and sensitive wo
man’s heart —who eould resist her l I
could not —my whole soul was hers
In vain had I struggled —in vain lead
ed upon mv vanity, (of which 1 had
plenty to invoke) to save me from the
mortification of loving without return,
I could not stem or control the passion
which, strong as a mighty whirlwind
had seized me.
One evening I sat by the piano while
Grace sang to me. The cousin was not
there, and dear Grace’s varying color
and glistening eyes suggested sweet
hopes to my hopes —to my vanity I
fancied I saw love in those bright dewy
eyes, and on those music-breathing
lips.
It was the last evening of my vaca*
tion, and surely I read a gentle farewell
thought in my Grace’s face I was
beside myself with jov at the idea—*l
was as if in a blissful dreaui —a sweet
delirium —a rapture love.
As Grace rose to leave the piano 1
caught her hand, and unable any long
e .- to repress the one thought that filled
my heart, I exclaimed fervently :
“ Grace —dear Giace, with all my soul
I love you!” She lifted her large, soft
eyes, and saivi. quite slowly, while a
mischievous smile stole over her face :
“ I know it.”
She was gone before l had time to
prevent it, or recover from my sur
prise.
The next day I returned to college,
expecting to complete my studies in an
other year. A year ! how long a time
to be absent from the beloved being who
was to me I felt, henceforth and forev
er, whether she returned my love or not,
the nucleus round which all my thoughts
would revolve. I need nut s*y how of
ten her strange a 1 and unsatisfactory an
°wer tormented me. I perceive in her
repetition of the same words —her re
membrance of the time she had used
them before; and this then was. the
just punishment of my insolence. I
tortured myself by bringing the whole
scene again and again to memory —my
passionate declaration of love, and her
provoking reply. “ I know it.” “ The
deuce you do !” thought I, sometimes,
* I would I had possessed the wit to
have left you a little more uncertain
about the matter.”
I often wonder that I was able to
study at all during this time, for Grace,
beautiful graceful Grace, was never ab
sent from my thoughts—she had be
come the dream of uiv life—the object
of all the love sonnets, which had till
now been scattered on various rival
beauties. I did study, however, and
study hard, and at the end of the term
passed examination with high honor—
to my mother’s pride and joy.
I determined to bo wiser when I saw
Grace again—t<r discover beyond a
doubt if I committed myself as I had
done by foolish speeches.
Didder to satisfy myself on this
point, and perhaps also to gratify a lit
tle pique, when I returned home I did
not immediately see Grace, as my feel
ings dictated, but waited till, at my
mother’s summons, she spent an even
ing with us. Even then, though my
heart was full of tenderness for her, I
affected coolness; I had made up mv
mind to play a part, and suffer as I
might I would act it out There was a
young lady staying with my mother at
this time who dearly loved to flirt. I
was quite ready to contribute to her
amusement; I devoted myself to her
the whole evening and felt the sweet
est pain ever experienced when I saw by
Grace’s dear, changing, sensitive face
that she was deeply pained and wound
ed.
When this foolery had been carried
on to its height I perceived Grace sud
denly rise, and step through the open
window out on the piazza In a few
minutes I followed her ; she had retired
to a little distance from the window,
and stood with her head leaning against
the railing weeping. Stealing softly
behind her I passed uiy arm around her
waist and whispered :
“ Ah, dearest Grace —do not deny it!
You love me /”
There was a little pause—then laugh
ing, yet half crying, Grace turned her
head aside, and said —
“ Alas ! I Know It !”
The ilaubury Man as a Fisherman.
When I was a boy I was passionately
fond of fishing, and have frequently sat
for hours at a time on a damp bank
waiting for a bite. About sundown I
could be seen approaching home with a
very depressed and sick-looking fish on
the end of two yards of string,
I rarely have more than one fish, but
I managed to become so imbued with that
single fish as to smell as if I had caught
a ton of them. My parents never look
upon this phenomena as being no other
than a malicious deception on my part
And a little brother with a better nose
than heart used to declare that if he
had to sleep with me he would run away
and be a corsair.
A good corsait gets about $lO a day
and his board, I understand.
The fish I used to carry home on the
end of two*yards of String were general
ly about two and a half inches long.—
The reflection that weighed heavily up
on me all the way home was the fact
that the fish had to be cleaned before I
could dispose of it, and that I had to
clean it. This finally inspired me with
a dislike to my prey, and led me to fre
quently wonder why fish were provided
so bountifully with insides and scales.
On reaching home and disposing of a
cold supper, I hunted up a board, got
the largest knife to be found in the
house, and began the task in the kitch
en by the light of a kerosene lamp.—
First I went to work at the scales, hold
ing on to the tail until that gave out,
and then catching hold of tho body un
til the tensions caused the fi*h to burst
open and spill all over me. Sometimes
the fish would slip into the sink, but
more frequontly on to the floor. At the
expiration of a quarter of an hour I
had removed some fifteeri scales, ten of
which were up my sleeve and the oth
ers on my nose, being transfered by- my
hand to that feature while engaged in
rubbing my eye, which invariably itched
upon such occasions as this. About
this time my mother would make her
appearance, and just in time to see the
kerosene lamp naarrowly escape going
over on the floor. With thehelp of a pair
of tongs I was induced to transfer my
operations to the hack yard, and con
tinue them in the starlight .Here I
would struggle with the contrary and
exasperating fiish for a full hour, at the
end of which time, I had screwed off
its head, aud wrenched away its gill,
and made its body look like Lazarus’
shirt. The next morning an hour
would be lo9t in prevailing upon the
hired girl to smuggle my fish into the
frying-pan, and it eventually came to
the table an inch long, and looked so
insignificant that my father quite fre
quenly took it down by accident, aud
didn’t find out the error until the spare
scales got in his windpipe and threaten
ed to strangle him.
Men Out of Their Places.
There is a place for every man ; his
own proper place, where he ought to be.
God has designed him for it, and it be
longs to him, and to no oue else, and
every man may know aud find his place
if he will It must be his sincere desire
to be in his place, au 1 he must go to
God heartily praying, Lord, what wilt
Ttiou have me to do ? Where wilt Thou
have me to be ? Let him surrender his
own will to God’s will, aud God will lead
and guide him ; and he shall make no
mistakes.
And it is a most blessed thing to be
in one’s own place. God will be with
him here. He will cheer, and strength
en, and sustain him. He tnay have tri
als ; but he meets them in the path of
dutj T ANARUS, and God’s grace is sufficient for
him. The same compassionate God who
was wi. h Daniel in the den of lions, and
with the three Hebrews in the burning,
fiery furnace, will not leave him nor for*
sake him. Being in his own proper
place, he may go to God with confidence,
and he shall be comforted aud supported
He shall be joyful in all his tribulation.
(Jongregationalist.
There is a place for every man, and
God intended each to find and to fill his
place. The trouble is, most men aspire
to places they cannot fill. They want,
to be Presidents, Commodores, or Cap
tains,when they <re only fit for the rank.
Some want to be poets or painters, when
thev are only prosy pumpkins. He is
the happiest man who finds the place he
is fitted to fill, and fills it well, however
humble it may be. The one who knows
himself his faults, and how to overcome
them —his virtues, and huw to increase
them—who knows the use and abuses
of the organs of miud aud body, and
exercises them iu the fear and fove of
God —is the happiest man. —Annual oj
Phrenology and Physiognomy.
Crasser s &dii Claudios.
Mr. Brasser, who lives on Ninth ave
nue, has a son about twelve years old
named Claudius, and the other evening
this boy received permission to allow a
neighbor’s boy to stay all night with
him. The old people sleep down stairs
in the sitting room, and the boys were
put into a room directly above When
fbey went up to bed Claudius had the
fclutheS line under his coat, and the
neighbor’s boy had a mask in his pock
et. They didn’t kneel down aud say
their prayers like good boys, and then
jump into bed and tell bear stories, but
as soon as the door was locked the
Brasser boy remarked :
“ You'll see more fun around here
to-night than would lie on a ten-acre
lot !”
From a closet they brought out a cast
off suit of Brasser’s clothes, stuffed
them with whatever came handy, tied
the mask and an old straw hat on for a
head, Slid while one hoy was c irefully
raising the window the other was tying
the clothes line around the “ man.” —
The image was lowered down .n front
of the sitting-room window, lifted up
and down once or twice, and old Brass*
er was heard to leap out of bed with a
great jar. He was just beginning to
doze when he heard sounds under his
window, and his wife suggested that it
was a cow in the yard. He got up,
pulled the curtain away, and as he be
held a man standing there he shouted
out:
“ Great bottles ! but it’s a robber ! ’
aud he jumped into bed.
‘‘ Theodorius Brasser, are you a
fool !” screamed the wife as he monop
lized all the bed clothes to cover up his
head.
•‘Be qu ; et, you old jade, you!”
he whispered: “ Perhaps he'll go
away !”
• “ Don’t jou call me a jade !” she re
plied, reaching over and trying to find
his hair. “ Git up and git the gun and
blow his head off 1”
‘ Oh ! you do it!”
“ Git up, you old coward,” she snap
ped. “ I’ll never live with you anoth
er day if you don’t do it !”
Brasser turned up the lamp, sat up in
bed, and cried out:
u Is that you, boys?”
“ Mercy on me ! git up !” yelled the
wife as the straw man was knocked
against the window.
“ I’ll blow his head off as clean as
milk !” said Brasser in a loud voice as
he got up. He struck the stove three or
four times, upset a chair, and reached
behind the foot of the bed and drew out
an old army musket.
“ Now, then,, for blood !” he contin
ued, as he advanced to the window and
lifted the curtain.
The man was there, face close to the
glass, and he had such a malignant ex
pression of Countenance that Brasser
jumped back with a cry of alarm.
“ Kill him ! Shoot him down, you
old noodle-head !” screamed out the
wife.
“ I will—by thunder ! I will !” re
plied Brasser. and he Hazed away, and
tore out nearly all the lower sash.
The boys up stairs uttered a yell ard
a groan, and Brasser jumped for the
window to see if the man was down.
He wasn’t. He stood right there, and
he made a leap at Brasher.
1 He’s coming in !—perlice ! —boys !
—hq ! perlice !” roared the old man.
The tattered curtain permitted Mrs.
Brasser to catch sight of a man jump
ing up and down, and she yelled :
“ Theodorius, I’m going to faint!”
“ Faint and be darned ! Boya !
perlice!” he replied, wolloping the
sheet-iron stove with the poker.
• Don’t you dare talk that way to
.<* !’’ shrieked the old woman, recover-
“ Pu-le ce ! Po-leece 1” now came
from the boys up stairs, and while one
continued to shout the ether drew the
man up, tore him limb from limb and
secreted the pieces.
Several neighbors were aroused, an
officer came up from the station, and a
search of the premises was made. Not
so much as a track in the snow was
found, and the officer put on an in
jured look and said to Mr. Brasser :
“ A guilty conscience needs no accu
ser.”
“ That’s so !” chorused the indignant
neighbors as they departed
As Mr Brasser hung a quilt before
the shattered window he remarked to
his wife:
“ Now see what an old cundurango
you made of yourself!”
“ Don’t fling any insults at me, or I’ll
choke the attenuated life out of you !”
she replied.
And the boys kicked around on the
bed, chucked eath other in the ribs and
cried :
“ I’d rather be a boy than be Presi
dent !”— Detroit Free “Press.
DrGNiTY —A snowball was accident
ally thrown through a window on Mich
igan Grand avenue, yeste r day, and
the proprietor of the store rushed out,
seized a passing boy, and shouted :
“You youngscoundiel ! did you break
that window ?”
“ No, sir.’ y
Be careful, sir—tell me the truth !”
“ I didn’t do it, sir.”
“ What is your name ?”
“My name? Why, don’t you kno
me ? My father came pretty near rut
ning for office last fall!”— Detroit Fr<
Press.
And now the head of the family re
turning from his “ club ” through the
sharp midnight air. gently rolls his
keeping spouse over to the cold side of
the bed, and sinks softly into the vaca*
ted spot with a sigh of thankful ness.
Some Old Dutch Proverbs.
We must row with the oars we have,
and, as we cannot order the wind, we
are obliged to sail with the wind that
gives.
Patience and attention will bring us
far. If a cat watches long enough at
a mouse’s nest, the mouse will not es
cape.
The plowman must go up and down,
and whatever else play be done, there
is no other but the long way to do the
work well.
Learn to sleep with one eye open. —
As soon as the chicken goes to roost it
is a good time for the fox.
Fools always ask what time it is, but
the wise know their time.
Grind while the wind is fair, and if
you neglect, do not complain of
Providence.
God gives food to every bird, but
he does not bring it to the nest; in
like manner he gives us our daily
bread; but by means of our daily
work.
The dawn of day has not gold in its
mouth.
lie that lags behind in a road where
many are driving always will be iu a
cloud of dust.
Never set your feet in a dirty and
crooked path for the love of money.—
It is a work that will bring bad inter
est if you wish to suck honey of this
tles. •
You wilJ need a long spoon if you
wish to eat with the devil out of the
same aish.
Facts About the Bible.
A prisoner condemned to solitary
confinement, obtained a copy of the Bi
ble, and by three years’ careful study
obtained the following facts :
The Bible contains 3,53G,489 letters,
773,602 words, 21,173 verses, 1,189
chapters, and 66 books.
The word “ and ” occurs 46,277
times.
The word “ Lord ” occurs 1,855
times.
The word “ Reverened ” occurs but
•once, which is iu- the 9th verse of the
11th Psalm.
The 21st verse of the 7th chapter of
Ezra contains all the letters in the al
phabet excert the letter J.
The finest chapter to read is the
29th chapter of the Acts of the Apos
tles.
The 19th chapter of II Kings and
the 37tb chapter of Isaiah are alike.
The longest verse is the 9th vtirse of
the Bth chapter of Esther.
The shortest verse is the 35th verse
of the 11th chapter of St. John.
The Bth, 15th, and 21st ve ses of the
107th Psalm are alike.
Each verse of the 136th Psalm ends
alike.
There are no words or names of more
than six syllables.
The Sharp Man.
The sharp man iz mistaken for the
wize one, but iz just az different from
a wize one az he iz from an honest
one.
He trusts tew his cunning for suc
cess, and this iz the next thing tew be
ing a rogue.
The sharp man iz like a razor—gen
erally too sharp for anything but a
shave.
These men are not to be trusted ;
they are so constituted that they must
cheat somebody, and rather than be idle
or lose a good job, they will pitch into
their best frieuds.
They are not exactly outcasts, but
live close on the borders of 6'rimin 'l
ty, and are liable tew step over enny
time.
It iz but a step from cunning tu ras
cality, and it iz a short step that iz al
- invitin tew take.
Sharp men have but few friends, and
seldurn a confidant. They learn tew
fear treachery by studyin their own na
ture.
They are always bizzy, but like the
hornet, want a heap of sharp watch
ing.
The sharp man iz always a vain one.
He prides himself upon his cunning,
and had rather do a shrewd thing than
a kind one. —Josh Billings.
. A Clergyman Taken in.
j\ rather amusing scene occured to a
reverend gentleman who is a popular
preacher. He went to have b’s likeness
taken at a photographer’s, and put on
his surplice in an ante-room. When
ushered into the manipulating-room he
was not a little disconcerted on seeing a
Circassian beauty, in full custom, chain
ed and on her knees, her countnance
expressing the pleadings of a broken
hearted girl being dragged before the
Mussulman proprietor of a happy harem
family. The reverened gentk'man, a
sood as he had recovered from his sur
prise, took an interest in the high art
proceeding, and ventured to suggest that
the veil fell too much across the face.
“Would you kindly show me what you
meaD 1” The revereud gentleman was
kind enough to do so. The flash of elec
tricity was wickedly employed ; for to
his horror it may be related, if he sees
this anecdote, that the popular preach
er has been taken in dramatic attitude,
with a Carcassian skive appealing to
him ta release her from her thralldom.
This is a private studio joke, and will
doubtless, never go further.— Court
Journal.
A stranger from the country ob
serving an ordinary roller rule on tht
table, took it up and inquiring its use
waft answered : “Itis a rule for count
ing-houses.” Too well bred, as he con
strued politenese, to !*sk unnecessar
quesCons, he turned it over aud up an
( own repeatedly, and at last, in a par
> xysm of baffled curiosity, inquired
How, in the nme of wonder, do yot
unt houses with this ?”
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NO. 30.
miscellaneous.
A tea set—The Chinese.
-Twisted hemp cures felons.
A poor relation—-A carb-uncle.
Brigham Young has sufficiently re
covered to sit up and get married ocf>4
sionaliy.
Y hy is a cat on its hiud legs like the
great tails of Niagara ? Because it is
‘erect.
It has beeD cold enough in Kansas
to freeze whisky, and some of the
drunkards there have become solid
men.
Forty gills will ran after a snob with
a gold-.leaded cane, whbfe one will shy
up to a fellow w.th sound horse
sense.
Hie I ortland Press has discovered a
“ mudul clerk ” in that city.—
Show the gentleman up to—Barn urn's
at once.
Michigan hien don’t feel as though
they had eloped if they don't leave a
wife and four children in destitute cir
cumstances.
The man who is kind and polite to his
mother-in-law has reached Vicksburg,
and is an object of general curiosity to
the people theie.
Nothing ffecalis to the biihd bf *he
married man the joys of his single life
io vividly as to find that the baby has
sfeen eating crackers in bed.
“ Pa pa, are you growing taller all the
time ?" “ No, my child; why do you
ask ?” “ ’Cause the top of y.jur head
is poking through your hair."
Mr Spencer, of Mood us, Conn., cast
a despairing look upon his twenty-first
child the other day No wonder they
call a repeating rifle a Spencer.
Mr. Naylle, of Toronto, was knock
ed down by a mistake for smother man,
recently. [lie hopes they’ll hit the
right Naylle on the head, the next
time.
“Girls" hearts now-a-days arc *o
tough early, and the young man who
breaks one feels as proudjas if he were
born to occupy a glass show case in the
Patent Office.
It is a melancholy fact that those
who declare war are never called upon
to do the fighting; if they were we sus
pect there would be not the slightest
amusement of this nature
A Green Bay man thinks it very
wiong for a boy to go to a circus, but
he will keep a lad turning a fanning—
mill ten hours, hand him five cents,
and stand and wait for the boy to
him.
A Boston man has died and left two
hundred dollars to a Universalist
church. It would do an old-fashioned
Methodist preacher good to tell a revi
val congregation just what has become
of this man.
“\\ hat tnakes yoii look so gram,
fom ? “Oh ! I had to endure a sad
trial to my feelings.” “ What on earth
was it?” “ Why, I had to tie on a
pretty girl s bonnet with her moth
er looking.”
“ N° w George, you must divide ths
cake honorably with your brothel
Charles. “ What is honorable,- moth
er ? It means * that you must give
him the largest piece.” “ Then, moth
er, 1 and rather Charley should divide
it.”
Somehow, one can’t help thinking of
that citizen of Syracuse who has thir
teen children, all girls. Probably there
is not a corner of the bureau in that
man s house that hasn t> a cold chew of
of spruce gum sticking to it.— Mil.
Sent.
It looks bad to see a dog proceeding
his master down the street, and calmly
turn down the stairs to the first saloon
he approaches. It shows there is some
thing wrong, something lacking, a de
plorable tendency on the part of tho
dog.
A lawyer once asked a hotel-keeper
the following question : “If a man
gives you a hundred pounds to keep for
him, and dies, what do you do ? Do
you pray for him ?” “ No, sir,” repli,
ed the landlord, “ I pray for anotbef
just like him.”
During a -trial the Judge called a
witness. No one answered, and an el
derly man arose and solemnly said “ he
is gone.” “ Where has he gone ?”
asked the Judge, in no tender tone. “I
don t know, but he is dead,” Was the
guarded answer.
Albany has had her nobleman, too; it
was Count Barli. Of course he was a
rogue in grain. By any other name he
did not smell as wheat, so when they
detected his imposition he acknowledged
the corn, and left to escape a thrashing.
Detroit Tribune.
A good story is .told of an old far
mer, whose son had for a long time,
been ostensibly studying Latin in a
popular academy. The farmer not be
ing perfectly satisfied with the course
aod conduct of the young hopeful, re
called him from school, and placing him
>y the side ol a cart one day, thus ad
dressed him : “ Now, Joseph, here is
a fork, and there is a heap of manure
and. cart j what do you call them in
Latin ?” “ Forkibus, cartibus, et ma
•uiribus,” said Joseph. “ Well, now,”
*aid the old man, “if you don’t take
that forkibus pretty quickibus, and
pitch that manuribus into that cartibus,
I’ll break your damn lazy backibus.”
Joseph weut to woikibus forthw&hjk
ous.