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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.”