Newspaper Page Text
CALHOUN WEEKLY TIMES
by and. b. freeman.
CALHOUN TIMES
Rates of Subscription.
One Year $2.00
Six Months 1.00
Ten copies one year 15.00
Rates of Advertising.
For each square of ten lines or less
for the first insertion, sl, and for each sub
sequent insertion, fifty cents.
NcTHq 7 ™ I 1 Mo - I 3 Mos - I 6 Mos ! 1 year
s47oo $7.00 I $12.00 $20.00
L ur “ 6.00 10.00 I 18.00 85.00
1 column 9.00 15.00 25.00 40.00
? 15.00 25.00 40.00 G 5.00
1 “ 25.00 40-00 65.00 115.00
Ten lines of solid brevier, or its
Equivalent in space, make a square.
Rates of Legal Advertising.
Sheriff’s Sales, each levy $4 00
Citation for letters of Administration
and Guardianship 4 00
Application for dismission from Admin
istration, Guardianship and Exec
utorship tin.a.* '••• 500
Application for leave to sell land, one
square 4 00
Each additional square 2 00
Land Sales, one square 4 00
Each additional square 3 00
Application for Homestead 2 00
Notice to Debtors and Creditors 4 00
Western & Atlantic Railroad
fcAt PASstiNdES. TRAIN —OUTWARD.
beaVe Atlanta *
Airive Calhoun 12.40 p. m
<* Chattanooga i.350 r. m
DAT PASSENGER TRAIN —INWARD.
Lem Chattanooga 5:15 r. m.
Arrive Calhoun VooJ A ' M ’
“ Atlanta 12:35 p. M.
night passenger tr UN—outward.
Leave Atlanta 6:55 p. M.
Arrive Calhoun -9:41 v. M.
•< Chattanooga 12:30 a. m.
night passenger train—inward.
Leave Chattanooga 4:00 P. M.
Arrive Calhoun "™3B p * M *
Atlanta I<>:ls p. m.
ACCOMMODATION TRAIN —OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta Pi M ‘
Arrive Calhoun 10:/.8 P. M.
“ Dalton 11:53 P. M.
ACCOMMODATION TRAIN INWARD.
Leave Dalton 1-00 a. m.
Arrive Calhoun -3:00 A. M.
•< Atlanta. 10:08 a. m.
TV J. KIKER & SON,
* attorneys at law,
Will practice in all the Courts of the Cher
ekeeCircuit; Supreme Court oi Georgia, and
the United States District Court at Atlanta,
Ga. Office: Sutlicast corner of the Court
House, Calhoun, Ga.
TV AIN & MILNER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CALHOUN, 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 Courts, at Atlanta.
J D TINSLEY,
Watch-Maker & Jeweler,
CALHOUN , OA.
All styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry
neatly repaired and warranted.
JJUFE WALDO THORNTON, D. D. S..
DENTIST.
Office over Geo. W. Wells & Co.’s Agricul
tural Warehouse.
jyjISS C. A. HUDGINS,
Milliner & Mantua-Maker,
Court House St., Calhoun iUa.
Patterns of the latest styles and fashion
for ladies just received. Gutting and
making done to order. _
T. GRAY,
• CALHOUN, GA„
Is prepared to furnish the public with
Buggies and Wagons, bran new and warrant
ed. Repairing of all kinds done at short
notice. Would call attention to the cele
rated “Fish Brothers’ Wagon which he fur
nishes. Call and examine before buying
elsewhere.
J H. ARTHUR
DEALER IN
GENERAL MERCHANDISE,
RAILROAD STREET,
Calhoun , Ga.
CHEAP GO OI)S.
RICHARDS & ESPY,
(OLD STAND OF Z. TANARUS, OKAY.)
Dealers in
Confectioneries,
Crackers,
Fancy Groceries, &c.
Tobacco, cigars and snuff a specialty. —
Highest market price paid for country pro
duce of all kinds. Give them a call and
they will give you a bargain. mar3l-3m
J.W7 MARSHALL,
RAILROAD ST., OLD STAND OF
A. W. BALLEW.
Keeps constantly on hand a superior stock of
Family & Fancy Groceries,
Also a fine assortment of Saddles, Bridles,
Staple Hardware, &c, to which especial at
tention is called. Everything in my line
“old at prices that absolutely defy competi
tion.
Send Twenty-Five Cents to
"At THE KENNESAW GAZETTE,
*> Atlanta, Ga„
P'P'MHXJ and will be Bont J rou mont,K
--v-uiNlb. ly one year. Richest thing out
THAT AMATEUR FLUTE ,
[The company all were seated, and
the laugh and jest went round—Ugh*,
hearted revellers unconscious of their
doom. The executioner entered. He
bore in his hand a silver flute. A ma
lignant smile lighted up his features
‘‘Ha I ha!” he said with fiendish glee,
“I will administer unto them an adagio;
not a man shall escape.”
“ Now, therefore this, accompanied
with many apologies, to the honored
shade of Edgar Allen Loe :]
Hear the fluter with his flute—
Silver flute ;
How it demi ssmi quavers
On the maddened ear of night!
And defieth all endeavors
To escape tl e sound or sight
Of the flute, flute, flute,
With its tootle, tootle, toot—
With reiterating tootings of exasperating
toots,
The long protracted tootings Of agonizing
toots
Of the flute, flute, flute,
Flute, flute, flute,
And the wheezlings and the spitting of its
toots.
Should he get that other flute—
Golden flute—
-0 what a deeper anguish will its presence
institoot!
As he plays,
All the days;
How he’ll stop us on our ways
With its praise!
And the people, oh the people,
That don’t live up in the steeple,
But inhabit Christian parlors
Where he visited and plays—
Where he plays, plays, plays—
In the crudest of ways,
And thinks we ought to listen,
And expects us to bo mute,
Who would rather have the earache
Than the music of his flute—
Of his flute, flute, flute,
And the tootings of its toot—
Of the the toots wherewith he tooteth its
agonizing toot
Of the flute, flewt., flint., floot,
l’hlute, plewt, phlewght,
Aud the tootle tootle tootings of its toot.
Extraordinary Surgical Opera
tion.
A child was bora in a well-to-do fam
ily in Queen Anne county, Md., with
the most remarkable deformity we ever
heard of, having no nose, nox upper lip,
with a part of the upper jaw containing
six rudimentory teeth, turned up and
solid to the forehead bone where it
should join f he nose. The throat was
so exposed that all the motions of
swallow and windpipe could be easily
seen. The most astonishing part is to
be told, that the child recovered from
the operation, and the deformity remov
ed.
The operation was horrifying in ap
pearance, to those who assembled to
witness it. As the surgeon, Dr. Charles
Green, of Philadelphia, was cutting the
upper jaw bone from the forehead, the
grating noise was too much for their
sensitive nerves to bear, so one by one
left the room until but one person re
mained, and this a middle ag< and lady de
serving of much praise for her generous
aud heroic conduct. The child lad
been bandaged to a board before the work
began and her firmness enabled the sur
geon to complete wbat he would have
otherwise given up. She seized the
board, to which the child was fastened,
and closing her eyes held on to the last.
The operation consisted in taking out
a portion of the upper jaw and six
teeth ; the nose was made by taking
flesh from forehead ; and the upper lip
was formed by taking flesh from each
cheek. The operation was done at 10
o’clock on Monday last, and the dress
ing was removed on the Saturday fol
lowing, when it was found that the new
nose, lip, etc., were perfectly united.—
The child now presents as pretty a lit
tle face as any one would wish to see,
the expression being changed, as it were
by magic, the children no longer run
ning away from it, but showing partic
ular fondness for its company.— Wil
mington {Deli) Gazette.
Tlie Poor Drunkard.
Oh ! I have sometimes looked at a
bright, beautiful boy, and my flesh has
crept within me at the thought that
there was a bare possibility he might
become a drunkard.
I was once playing with a beautiful
boy in the city of Norwich, Conneticut j
I was carrying him to and fro oh my
back, both of us enjoying ourselves ex
ceedingly ; for I loved him, and I think
he loved me. During our play I said to
him :
“Harry, will you go down with me to
the side of the stone wall i”
“ Oh, yes !” was his cheerful reply.
We wett together, and saw a man
lying listlessly there quite drunk, his
face upturned to the bright blue sky ;
sunbeams that warmed and illuminated
us lay upon his porus, greasy face; the
pure morning wind kissed his parched
lips and passed away poisoned ; the very
swine looked nobler than he, for they
were fulfilling the purpose of their being.
As I looked upon the poor degraded
man, and then looked upon that child,
with his bright brow, his beautiful eyes,
his rosy cheeks, his pearly teeth, and
ruby lips, the perfect picture of life and
peace; as I looked upon the man and
then upon the child, and felt his little
hand convulsively twitching in mine,
and saw his little lips grow white, and
his eye dim, gazing upon the poor
drunkard ; then did I pray to God to
give me an evrrlasting hatred of any in
strumentality that could make such a
thing of a being once so fair as that lit
tle child.
,<
He who goes through a land and
scatters roses, may be tracked next day
by their withered petals that strew the
ground ; but he who goes through it,
and scatters rose-seeds a hundred y eara
1 after leave behind him a land full o
I fragrance and beauty, for his monu
* inent.
CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 5. 1875,
Eot and His Wife.
As I approached a pond, a few
months ago, where some negroes were
cutting ice, I chanced to hear the con
clusion of a Conversation between two
of the hands on the subject of relig
ion.
“What you know ’bout ’ligion?—
You don’t know nuthin’ ’tall ’bout dig
ion.
“ I know a heap ’bout ’ligion ; ain’t
I bin done read de Bible ?”
“ What yod read ifl de Bible 7* I
say you can’t tell me nuthin’ what you
read in de Bible ?”
“ But I kin, dough (though.) I read
’bout Morro ”
“ What sort o’ Morro to-morrow ?”
“ No, Go-Morro.”
“ Well, whar he go, and what he go
fur ?”
“ Shoh, man ! He didn’t go nowhar,
coz he was a town.”
“ Dar ! didn’t I tell you you didn’t
know nuthin’ ’bout ’ligion ? You read
de Bible ! Hoccum (how come) de town
name Morro, and how he gwine to any
whar ? Town ain’t got no legs.”
‘i Man, yous a born fool, sho’. De
town named Go-Morro ; but Jey call it
Morro coz dey didn’t have no time to
stay dar talking long.”
“ Debbil dey didn’t! Ef dey stay dar
to-day, why can’t dey stay dar to-mor*
row? ’Splain me dat.”
“ But dey all gone, and de town, too.
All dun bu’n up.”
“Ef dere ain’t no pepul, and dere
ain’t no town, how de town name ’Mor
ro ? G’long, nigger ! Didn’t I know
you didn’t know nuthin’ ’tall ’bout ’lig*
ion ? But (sarcastically) tole me some
mo’ what you read in de Bible.”
“ Well, ’Morro was a big town —’bout
mighty nighs’ as big as Washington
city. And de pepul dat live dere was
the meanes’ pepul in de whole worl’.—
Dey was dat mean de Lord he couldn’t
abear ’em, and he make up his min’ dat
he gwine bu’n de town clean up. But
dar was one good man dar —member uv
the church—a ’psidin elder—named
Lot.”
“ Yaas, I know’d him.”
“ Whar you know’d him ?”
“On the cannel (canal). He owned
a batto, and dror’d it hissef,”
‘• Heist, man ! I talkin’ sense now.
Den de Lord he came to Lot, aud he
say ; ‘ Lot, I gwine bu’n dis town. —
You and your wife get up and gether
you little all, and put out ’fo de crack
o’ day, coz I cert’y gwine bu’n dis town
and de pepul to-morrow.’ Den Lot, he
and he wife riz, and snatched up their
little alls, and travelled soon in the
mornin’. And de Lord he tuck two
lightud (lightwood) knots and some
shavins, and he set fire to dat dar town
of ’Morro, and he bu’n it spangup, clear
down to de groun’.”
“ What ’came o’ Lot ?”
“ He and he wife dey went and dey
went, and dey went, twell presently he
wife say : ‘ Lor’! if I ain’t gone and
left de meal sifter and de rollin’ pin, I
wish I may die I’ And she turn roun’
to go fetch ’em, and she turn roun’ and
—and—she dar now !”
“ What she doin’ dar ?”
“ Nuthin’.”
“ Mus’ be mons’sus lazy ’oman,”
“No she ain’t. De Lord he tu’n
her to pillow uv salt, coz she too 'quis->
itive. ”
“ Dar ! ev’rybody knows ’bout de
sack o’ salt; who ever hear ’bout pil
low of salt? But what came o’ Lot?”
“ Lot, he wern’t keerin’ nuthin’ ’tall
’bout no rollin’ pin and no meal sifter ;
so he kep’ straight ’long, ’thout turnin’
uv he head neither to the right, neith
er to the lef.”
“ An lef’ de ole ’oman dar ?”
Yaas.”
“ In de middle o’ de road ?”
“ Must keer’d mighty little fur her—
want to get married to secb’n wife, I
’spect. But de fust man come ’long
and want to git some salt to bake ash
cake, he gwine to bust a piece out’n
Lot’s wife and ’stroy her ; and what do
you think o’ Oat ? Call dat ’ligiou ?
And de ole man gone lel’t her ? And
you read dat—”
Here a peremptory order from the
foremau to go to work” broke short
the conversation. .
- ♦
Blessed are they that are bliud, for
they shall see no ghosts.
Blessed are they that are deaf, for
they neve.r lend money and never hear
tedious stories.
Blessed are they that are afraid of
thunder, for they shall hesitate about
getting married, and keep away from
political meetings.
Blessed are they that are lean, for
there is a chance to grow fab.
Blessed are they that are ignorant, for
they are happy in thinking they know
everything.
Blessed is he that is ugly in form and
features, for the gals will not molest
him.
Blessed is she who would get married
and can’t, for the consolations of the
gospel are hers.
Blessed are the orphan children, for
they have no mothers to spank ’em.
Blessed are they that expect noth
ing, for they shall not be disappoint
ed.
Blessed are they that do not adver
tise, for they shall rarely be troubled
with a customer.
Moral courage enables young men
to wear old gloves, hat and coat till
they can honestly afford the new. It
requires an effort, but it will have a
good result. Men schooled to such
deeds of heroism will refuse to endorse
bad bills, will not vote for scamps, nor
make obeisance to scoundrels who give
lavishly what they have gained lawless
ly, nor take with pride the hand of a
villain, however exalted.
The IHan Who Felt Sad.
He entered a hardware store, on
Woodward avenue about 10 o’clock Sat
urday morning, and, taking a seat by
the stove, he beckoned to the proprietor
and said :
“ Sit down here —I want to speak
with you.”
He was a man who looked sad from
the crown of his hat to the toes of his
boots. There were deep Care-lines on
his face, his eyes were red and anxious
looking, and his tattered overcoat was
drawn in at the waist by a wide leather
belt.
“ Can we do anything for you to*
day?” asked the merchant, as he sat
down.
The sad man slowly wiped his nose,
slowly turned aronnd, and slowly re
plied :
“ Sir, it makes me feel sad when I
reflect that we have all got to die !”
“ Yes—urn replied the merchant.
“ Christopher Columbus is dead!”
continued the sad man, “ and who feels
bad about it—who sheds a tear over his
loss ? He is gone, and we shall never
see him more 1 You and I must soon
er or later follow him, and the world
will go just the same.”
“ Then you don’t want anything to
day ?” queried the merchant after a
painful pause,
“ And King James is dead !” ex
claimed the sad man, wiping his nose
again. “Is anybody weeping over his
loss ? Don’t folks laf and laf, and don’t
the world go on just the same ? Sir,
it may not be a week before you and I
will be called upon to rest from the la
bors of this life. Doesn’t it make you
feel sad when you think of it?”
Of course, we’ve got to die, replied
the merchant, as he tossed a stray nail
over among the eightpennys.
“ Andrew Jackson is dead !” contin
ued the sad man, a tear falling on his
hand. “ Yes, Andrew has been gath
ered, and a good man has gone from
among us. Were you acquainted with
him ? ’
I believe not, was the answer.
“ Well, he was a fine man, and many
a night I have laid awake and cried to
think that he would be seen among us
no more forever. Yet, do you hear any
wailing and sobbing ? Does anybody
seem to care a cent whether Andrew
Jackson is dead or living? You or I
may be the next to go, and the world
will move on just the same as if we had
never lived.”
“The world can’t, of course, stop for
the death of one man, no matter how
great,” said the merchant.
“That’s what makes me sad—that’s
why I weep these tears I” answered the
man, wringing his long, pecked nose
with vigorous grief. “William Penn is
also dead. Once in a great while I hear
someone express sorrow, but as a gen
eral thing the world has forgotten Wil
liam with the rest. Don’t it make you
feel sad when you reflect that you wi.l
never see him again ? Don’t you feel
like crying when you think he has gone
from among us ?”
“I never have time to think of these
things,” answered the mercant, fond
ling the cold-stove shaker.
“And Shakespeare’s gone too !” ex
claimed the man, his chin quivering
with agitation, “we may sigh, and sigh,
and sigh, and wish, and wish, and wish,
but pool Shaky will never be seen mov
ing with us again ! They have laid him
avtoiy to sleep his long sleep, and a
bright lamp has been extinguished for
ever.”
“Well, do you want anything in the
line of hardware ?” asked the merchant
as he rose up.
“Can you speak of hardware to me at
such a time as this ?” exclaimed the sad
man. “Knowing my sad feelings, see
ing these tears, and listening to my bro*
ken voice, can you have the heart to try
and force hardware upon me ?”
The merchant went over to his desk
and the sad man wrung his nose again
and went out.
They Started too High.
Chuck —the boys called him Chuck
for short—was hardly what you would
call a hard case, but he was fond of a
joke, and seldom cared at whose ex
pense it was perpetrated. Returning
to New Bedford on the steamer was a
large party who had been over to at
tend the camp meeting at Martha’s
Vineyard. It was Sunday evening,
and, naturally enough, a number of pas*
sengers gathered in the ladies’ cabin for
divine service. Into this crowd Chuck
insinuated himself just as the hymn—
“ My soul, be on thy guard,” was given
out. The crowd joined in with a will,
and had sung to the end of the second
line, “ Ten thousand foes arise,” when
a shrill female voice was heard, “ Hold
on ! you’ve started it too high !”
There was a dead pause for a few sec
onds, broken at length by the good Ma
tured suggestion of Chuck. “ Suppose
you start her at five thousand 1” Amid
the general laughter that followed
Chuck retired, and the meeting came to
an end.
Note. —They should have chucked
Chuck out
One of the late New York illustra
ted humoious papers has an irresistable
cut. This is the scene : An old gen
tleman is walking in his garden.—
Presently the milkman comes along
outside the high garden wall, and gives
his customary yell. Old gentleman
hears something, but being very deaf, is
unable to make out just what is wan
ted ) so he puts his ear trumpet in place,
and elevating the bell end of it over the
edge of the wall, exclaims : “ Here !”
Milkman takes it for a dish, empties
the quart of milk into the old. gentle
man’s ear and goes on about his busi
ness.
Mothers of Remarkable Men.
In reading the pages of history we are
struck with the fact that our remarka*
ble men possessed mothers of uncommon
talents for good or bad, and great ener
gy of character. It would seem from
this circumstance that the impress of the
mother is more frequently stamped upon
the boy, and that of the father upon
the girl—we mean the mental, intellec
tual impress, in distinction from the
physical one-
It is said of Sir Walter Scott’s moth
er, that she was a very small, plain well
educated woman, of excellent sense very
charitable, and a great lover of poetry
and painting, and on the whole, a supe
rior woman. ’Tis evident, from the
writings of Sir Walter, that he had un
common gifts in word painting.
It is said of Byron’s mother, that
she was a proud woman, hasty, violent,
and unreasonable, with no principal
sufficient to restrain her temper. Un
happily, Byron inherited his mother’s
inflamable temper, and instead of being
softened by the harshness with which
she often treated him, he was rendered
more passionate by it. Thus we see that
this infirmaty, which by gentleness and
kind treatment might have been check
ed, if not cured, was suffered to enslave
one of the most talented, brilliant, poet
ical minds that has shone among men,
entailing a life upon its possessor, and
an early termination to his career.
The mother of Bonaparte was a wo
man of great beauty and energy of
character. This last trait has been
strikingly exemplified throughout his
whole life.
. The mother of Robert Burns, the
Scottish poet, was a woman of moder
ate personal attractions, but in every
other respect she was a very remarka
ble woman. She was blessed with a
singular equanimity of temper, and her
religious feelings were constant aud
deep. She used to give wings to the
weary hours of her checkered life by
chanting old songs and ballads, of which
she had a large store. Her perceptions
of character were very quick and keen,
and she lived to a good old age, rejoic
ing in the fame of her poet son, and
partaking of the fruits of bis genius.
Lord Bacon’s mother is said to have
been a woman of superior mind, of
great learning and deep piety.
Little is said of the mother of Nero,
except that she murdered her second
husband, the Emperor Claudius, about
forty years after marriage. How
strangely does the mother of Nero, the
ancient tyrant, contrast with the moth
ers of some of our modern philanthrop
ists and statesmen ! The mother of
Washington, for instance, whose name
is familiar to every reader of history,
the mother of John Jay, who deserves
a place by the side of Washington.—
Mrs. Jay is said to have had a cultiva
ted mind, a fine imagination and an af
fectionate temper.
The mother of Patrick Henry was a
woman of great excellence of character,
and marked by superior conversational
powers. Hence, doubtless, the oratori
cal gift of her son.
With the mother of the A damses all
are acquainted. Where will you find
more real practical common sense and
true energy of character than John
Quincy’s mother possessed ? Mothers
will do well to remember that their
impress is often stamped upon their
sons.
—
Tlie Unwritten Side of Great
Men.
We always think of great men as in
the act of performing deeds which give
them renown, or else in stately repose,
grand, silent and majestic. And yet
this is hardly fair, because the most
gracious and magnificent of human be*
ings have to bother themselves with the
little things of life which engage the
attention of us smal'er people. No
doubt Moses snarled and got angry
w r beu he had a severe cold in his head,
and if a fly bit his leg while he was in
the desert, why should we suppose that
he did not jump and use violent lan'.
guage and rub the sore place ? And
Csesr —isn’t it tolerably certain he
used to become furious when he went
up stairs to get his slippers in the dark
and found that Calphurnia had shoved
them under the bed so that he bad to
sweep around them wildly with a broom
handle. And when Solomon cracked
his crazyboue is it unreasonable to sups
pose that he ran around the room and
felt as if he wanted to cry ? Imagine
George Washington putting on a clean
shirt, and growling at Martha because
the buttons were off; or St. Augustine
with an apron around his neck, having
hia hair cut; or Joan of Arc holding
her front hair in her mouth, as women
do, while she fixed up her back hair ;
Napoleon jumping out of bed in a fren
zy, to chase a mosquito around the room
with a pillow; or Martin Luther, in a
night shirt, trying to put the baby to
sleep at two o’clock in the morning; or
Alexander the Great, w r ith the hic
coughs; or Thomas Jefferson getting
suddenly over the fence to avoid a dog;
or the duke of Wellington with the
mumps; or Daniel Webster about his
wife because she hadn’t tucked the
ers at the foot of the bed; or Benja
min Franklin, paring his corns with a
razor; or Jonathan Edwards, at the
dinner table, wanting to sneeze just as
he got his mouth full of hot beef; or
Noah, standing at the window at night
throwing bricks at a cat.
* ♦
A gentleman drove a sorrowful
looking horse into town last Saturday,,
and stopping in front of Bank Block,
be requested a small boy to hold him a
moment. “ Hold ’im !” exclaimed the
boy. “ Just lean him up against the
post; that’ll hold ’im.
Family Newspapers.
Their value is by no means apprecia
ted, but the rapidity*with which people
are waking up to their necessity and
usefulness is one of the significant signs
of the times. Few families are content
with one newspaper. The thirst for
knowledge is net easily satisfied, and
books, though useful, yea, absolutely
necessary in their place, fail to meet
the demand of youth or age. Our fam
ily newspaper is eagerly sought and its
contents are eagerly dovoured; then
comes the demand for national and for
eign news. Next to the political come
the literature and scientific journals.—
Lastly, the moral and religious journals.
All these are demanded to satisfy the
cravings of the active mind. Family
newspapers are valuable to maternal
prosperity. They advertise the town.
They spread before the reader a map on
which may be traced character, design
and progress. If a stranger calls at a
hotel he first inquires for the newspa
per ; if a friend comes from a distance
the next thing after family greeting he
inquires for your family paper, and you
feel discomfited if you are unable to
find a late copy and confounded if you
are compelled to say you do not take it.
Family newspapers are just as necessary
to fit a family for its true positon in
life as food or raiment. Show us a rag
ged, bare footed boy rather than an ig
norant one. Ilia head will cover his
feet in after life if he is well supplied
with newspapers. He will make his
mark in the world if you gratify that
desiie for knowledge. Other things
equal, it is a rule that never fails. A
family newspaper is a family need.
Bea Man.
What a noble thing it is to be a
man ! The world is full of counterfeits,
it is a grand thing to be upright in de
fence of truth and principle. When
persecution comes, some hide their faces
until the storms pass by, others can
be bought for a mess of pottage. From
such turn away. Stand by a friend.—
Show thyself a man. Do not run away
when dangers threaten to overwhelm
him or you.
Think for yourself. Read books and
read men’s faces. Remember the eye
is the window of the soul. Use your
eyes and hold your tongue when men
court favors.
• Select some calling to make it honor
able. When you have spoused a cause
maintain it at all hazards. Blake up
your mind to succeed by honorable
means and good will; brush the diffi
culties away one at a time.
If opposition comes, meet it manful
ly. If success crowns your efforts, bear
it quietly. Hasten not into a quarrel,
but when you are compelled to accept
au altercation, stand up and show your
self a full grown man. Do your think- }
rug, keep your own secrets ; worship no
man for his wealth, or illustrious lin
eage. Fine feathers do not always
make fine birds.
Do not live yourself alone. The
world needs reformers as much to day
as ever. If you have anew idea en
deavor to develop it into words and
deeds. Be sober ;be honest; be true,
policy men are dangerous. They will
sell you for money, or popularity—don’t
trust them. Wear but one face, and let
it be an honest one.
Education. —“ To read the' English
language well, to write with dispatch a
neat, legible hand, and be master of the
first four rules in arithmetic, so as to
dispose of at once, with accuracy, ev
ery question of figures which comes up
in practice. I call this a good educa
tion. And if you add the ability to
write pure grammatical English, I re
gard it as an excellent education.—
These are the tools. You can do much
with them, but you are heirless without
them. They are the foundation ; and
unless you begin with these, all your
flashy attainments, a little geology, are
ostentatious rubbish.” — Edward Ev
erett.
Someone of the company at tea with
a Spring street family spoke of the ex
cellence of the honey, whereupon the
head of the house, who stands in repu
diated dread of his w ; fe, feelingly ob
served :
“Honey is the most delicious of deli
cacies. It is a nectar of beautiful flow
ers, sipped from the brilliant petals by
the never-tiring bee, and moulded
into a glory that would tempt the God
of—”
“Ephriam,” enunciated bis wife, with
stern solemnity, “have you been drink
ing again?” Ephraim groaned.—Dan
bury News.
■ ->*-•-
What to Teach.— Rev. Charles
Brooks, father ot the State Normal
Schools in America, was asked by a
teacher this question :
“ What shall I teach my pupils ?”
lle answered Teach them very
thoroughly these five things:
1. To live religiously.
2. To think comprehensively.
3. To reckon mathematically.
4. To converse fluently.
5. To write grammatically.
If you successfully teach them these
five things you will nobly done your du
ty to your pupils, to their parents, to
your ceuntry, and to yourself.
“ Amen !”
Nevada brides won‘t stand much
foolishness at a wedding. Recently
one of them, while going up the aisle
of the church, stopped short and kick
ed all the skin off the shins of a grooms
man who trod on her train.
—3—- >-■
A Chicago Deputy Sheriff’ was re
fused free admission to a Chicago thea
tre. By way of revenge he impanelled
he manager on a petit jury.
VOL. V.—NO. 40.
lIfMOROUS.
“ The cause of woman suffrage
Scarcity of husbands.
A duel is quickly managed. It only
takes two seconds to arrange it.
A queer old chap has nicknamed his
daughter Blisery, because she loves
company.
What is it which has a mouth and
never speaks, and a bed and never
sleeps ? A river.
Mrs. Partington says that on Thanks
giving diiys she allows Ike to “ fill him
self to his utmost rapacity.”
An auctioneer once advertised a lot
of chairs, which he said, had been
“ used by school children without any
backs.”
Mrs. Partington reading of the strike
of the wire drawers, remarked : “ All,
me, what new-fangled things won’t they
weir next ?”
A Dubuque boy was rather troubled
tor fear that he would not. know his
father when they both reached heaven,
but his mother eased him by remark
ing : “ All you have to do is to look
an angel with a red nose.”
Bergh says that the popular mode of
killing mosquitoes by rolling them be
tween the thumb and forefinger is bar
barous, as it only half kills the insects.
Tying shot around their necks and
drowning them would bo more hu
mane.
Poor Irish woman with six children
to railroad ticket agent: “ Please, sir,
give a poor widdy with six orphan chil
dren a ticket to Blilwaukee ?” Ticket
agent ; “ What have I to do with your
orphan children ? I ain’t their father,
am I?” Woman : “ That you ain’t, sir;
their father was a dacect man.”
P. was attacked with a disease fof
which his physician prescribed calomel.
After he had taken it for some time,
one day the doctor asked him if the
medicine had in any manner affected
his teeth. “ I don’t know,” faintly
whispered P., “ but you can see ; they
are in the top drawer of the bureau.—
Blrs. P. will hand them to you.”
A pedestrian going along Grand Riv
er street yesterday saw a boy with the
nose-bleed, and the lad was smearing
his shirt, hands, ears and even his boots
with the blood. The man inquired his
reason, and the boy replied :
“ I’m going home and tell dad I
licked a feller fifteen years old, and
he’ll gimme ten cents.” —Detroit Free
Press.
He was a colored man of Arkansas,
but rest his soul he’s dead. lie was
born to die he said, and glad and happy
that it was so. He would bid ’em fare
well, but he would meet ’em on the res
urrection morn. His soul would go to
live where sweet milk and honey flows,
and grave-makers and lawyers would
trouble him no further. The Sheriff
cut the rope, and he said no more.
An Irishman, addicted to telling
strange stories, said he saw a man be
headed, with his hands tied behind him,
who directly picked up his head and
put it on his shoulders in the right
p-ace. “Ha!ha! ha !” said a by
stander ; “ how could he pick up his
head when his hands were tied behind
him ?” “And, sure, wjjat apurty fool
ye are !” said Pat. “ And couldn't he
pick it up wid his teeth ?”
Bill S mikes came home mellow the
other night, and when his wife asked
him what ailed him he said he had
been to the spelling-school and had
(hie) got foul of hip-pip—poppo
hippopit.y hip-pop hip-pittyhop
—himus—hippimus—hip—hip—hip—
hippittymus—hipopytimus— or some
such (hie) confounded word, and it
had given him one of his “ spells,”—
Saratogian.
“That carpet,” sail a dealer to an
old farmer the other day, “ that carpet
is $1.35 per yard ; but seeing it’s you,
you can have it for $1.20.”
While he was cutting it off ihe far
mer proudly said to his wife :
“ I never met him before, but you see
he takes me for some big man. Now
then, Blariar, see what ’tia to have a
husband who looks smartish !”—De
troit Free Press.
A man about thirty years old, havin"
a shot gun on his shoulder and two
pigeons in his hand, was yesterday stan
ding on a street corner telling a crowd
that lie had been out and killed five
hundred pigeons since sunrise.
“ You’re a liar !” shouted a man in
the edge of the crowd.
The stranger looked at him long and
earnestly, and then inquired : °
“ Where did you get acquainted with
me V’—Detroit Free Press.
“ When I was traveling in Massachu.
setts, some twenty years ago,” said a
tra.eler, “ I had a seat with the driver,
who, on stopping at the Post-office, sa
luted an ill-looking fellow on the step
with, ‘Good morning, Judge Sanders;
I hope you’re well, sir !’ After leaving
the office, I asked the driver if the man
he spoke to was really a judge. ‘ Cer
tainly, sir,’ he replied. ‘We had a
cock’-fight last week, and he was made
a judge on that occasion !’ ”
The other day a lady went to pay
her respects to one of the latest arri*
val on the list of babyhood, when the
following colloquy took place between
her and the four-year old sister of the
new comer : “ I have come for that
Laby now, said the lady. “ s?ou can’t
have it,” was the reply. “But I must;
I came on purpose,” urged the
visitor. “ Vie can’t spare it at all,”
persisted the child, “ but I’ll get a
piece of paper and you can cut out a
pattern.”