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CALHOUN WEEKLY TIMES.
BY D. B. FREEMAN.
CALHOUN TIMES
Office: Wall St., Southwest of Court House.
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"Ft J, KIKEK Jsc SON,
* ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Will practice in all the Courts of the Cher
ekee Circuit; Supreme Court of Georgia, and
the Uuited States District Court at Atlanta,
Ga. Office: Sutheast corner of the Court
House, Calhoun, Ga.
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.
T I). TINSLEY ~
Watch-Makor & Jeweler,
CALHOUN, GA.
All styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry
neatly repaired and warranted.
jDUFE WALDO THORNTON, D. D. S..
DENTIST.
Office over Geo. W. Wells & Co.’s Agricul
tural Warehouse.
J H. ARTHUR
DEALER IN
GENERAL MERCHANDISE,
RAILROAD STREET,
Calhoun , Ga.
y T. OKAY,
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. Call and examine before buying
elsewhere.
DR. H. K. MAIN, M. D.,
PRACTICING PHYSICIAN,
Having permanently located in Calhoun,
offers his professional services to the pub
lic. Will attend all calls when not profes
sionally engaged. Office at the Calhoun
Hotel.
J. W. MARSHALL,
RAILROAD ST., OLD STAND OF
A. W BALLEW.
ceps constantly on hand a superior stock of
family & Fancy Groceries,
ilso a fine assortment of Saddles, Bridles,
Jtaple Hardware, &c, to which especial at
tention is called. Everything in my line
Jold at prices that absolutely defy competi
tion.
Books, Stationery and Jewelry.
rfJJfljflL 111 WIN & CO.
(Sign of the Big Book & Watch.)
WE sup ly Blank Books, School Bocks
and bjoks of all kinds ; also, pens,
inks, paper , and everything in in the line
of
Stationery, at Atlanta l*rices.
A good lot of JEWELKA always on hand.
Watch, Clock and Gun repairing done
cheaply and warranted.
Country produce taken in exchange
for goods. IRW IN & CO.
BARBER SHOP!
By ESSEX CHOICE .
HAVING opened a Barber Shop between
the Calhoun Hotel and W. & A. Rail
road, 1 earnestly solicit the custom ol the
public,pledging an honest endeavor to mer
it the good will of every one.
Single shave, 15cts. ; hair-cutting, 2octs.;
shampooing, 25 cts. Shaving per month —
- shaves per week, SI.OO, hair-cutting and
sh uupooing included Other prices low in
accordance. july2B tf.
T.M.33LXjIS’
LIVEHV & SALtS STABLE.
Good Saddle and Buggy Horses*
and New Vehicles.
Horses and mules for sale.
Stock fed and cared for.
Charges will be reasonable.
Will pay the cash for corn in the ear and
fodder in the bundle. feb3-tf.
JEN AND JOE.
It really don’t seem long ago,
Since you were Jen and I was Joe,
But forty years have passed and gone
Since we commenced to trudge along
Yes, forty years of wedded life,
Since you became my happy wife;
But now they call me Uncle Joe,
And you had changed t® Aunt Jennettc.
But still I never will forget
When yon were belle and I was beau.
Ah yes, it’s very long ago,
Since our young love commenced to grow,
And o’er our heads the years have rolled,
And people call us rather old ;
I’m sure it don’t seem so to me,
You’re sixty-one, I’m sixty-three—
It really don’t seem if ’twas so,
But when the children pass us by,
They always say ’bout you and I,
There’e Aunt Jennette and Uncle Joe I
Ah, well, God will soon call us home,
And then in Heaven we shall roam.
And wife, perhaps it will always be so,
You’ll look like Jen and I’ll look like Joe.
Then we’ll commence our love once more,
As hapny as in days of yore,
For those were happy days, you know—
And sweet and joyful it will be,
To live throughout eternity,
As bonnie Jen and loving Joe.
THE BROKEN PRIMROSES.
A HIGHLAND STORY.
Among all the flowers that make the
country beautiful, I think none have
such a tender place in memory as the
primrose. Who ever passed the months
of spring in the country, in childhood,
who cannot recall how joyously the first
appearance of the favorite was hailed,
and the opening watched as its delicate
buds peeped from amongst the thick
green leaves under the shade of the
briar bush, or around the roots of a wide
branching ash tree, or ou the tiny
shelves of a hoary rock ?
To see even a bunch of artificial prim
roses on a pretty young lady’s bonnet
seem to me to give a touch of poetry to
the wearer ; whilst to see them worn
by a matron about to enter into the sere
and yellow leaf period looks like the
ripe months of September and October
wearing the livery of spring. They
seem more in keeping even on the sil
very locks of old age; for an early
primrose may blossom on the brown of
winter. Rut to our story.
The laird of a certain Highland es
tate, which we call Achaneilean, was
early left fatherless, but was carefully
trained by a very wise, though doting
mother. Sir Evan was a fine high-spir
ited young man, who gave her the very
highest satisfaction in all things, ex
cepting in the wandering habits he had
early formed. He would often dress
himself in the strangest disguises and
mingle with the tenauts,taking a leading
share in their games and pastimes.
His mother, knowing his high and hon
orable nature, was never afraid of his
doiti" anything wrong, at such times,
but she thought his conduct undigni
fied ; so, as she could not win him from
his strange habit, she tried to influence
him to get married. With this object
in view she gathered arouud her, both
in London and at home, all the young
ladies she most admired; but her efforts
seemed in vain. Sir Evan was courte
ous and attentive to all her guests, but
he was still fancy free; and she loved
him too tenderly to wish him married
without a sincere attachment. She
knew the requirements of his nature,
and understood, therefore, that a love
less marriage would only drive him far
ther into his wandering habits from
which she wished him weaned.
When Sir Evan was in his twenty*
fifth year, he went to a distant part of
his estate, which he had never visited
before; and hearing there was to be a
wedding, he went to it in disguise as a
minstrel. He wore a tattered old tar
tan coat, and carried his fiddle over his
shoulder in a green baize bag, whilst
his fair skin was stained to appear like
a gipsy's.
It was toward the latter end of spring
—a clear, beautiful afternoon —and by
the riverside the young people were
gayly daDcing, whilst an old white-hair
ed man, with palsied hand, was trying
his best to give them music.
The young man drew near bow
ing to the company, he drew his old
bonuet over his brow and he began to
play.
The dancers were delighted, for they
had never listened to such strains be
fore; and the old fiddler, trembling for
fear he would lose the reward he ex
pected, went to the young minstrel in
the first pause of the music, and pro
posed that whatever was paid to either
of them would be equally divided with
the ether. The young man laughingly
assented, and when the best man came
to offer him something to drink, he re
fused it; but said as it was getting
cold, it the old man would play them a
spring he would be glad to he allowed
to dance a reel.
Permission was at once given auu
the minstrel asked tor his partner a
pretty,gray-eyed,modest looking maiden,
whose graceful movement he had watch
ed in the dance. She readily gave him
her hand, and such dancing was seldom
seen by those present. When he had
led her back to her friends, he offered
her a few primroses from a small boquet
he had gathered by the river side, and
turning to another fair girl, he offeied
her the remainder, and begged her
hand for the next dance. She tossed
her head indignantly, and her looks
said plainly, “Ho you think I would
dance with a gipsy V
taken thee primroses out ot
his hand, but she broke them,
and cast them away, saying suddenly,
“ I don’t care for flowers, and 1 m not
going to dance with you, thank you.
, The young man turned away hastily,
I and the maiden who had danced with
him said to her companion, How could
you wound the young man’s feelings so.
CALHOUN, GA., AYEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1875.
What harm could it do you to dance
with him ? And oh ! the dear prim
roses ; the first I have seen this year;
see, you have broken them ; ” and Elen
bowed down and gathered the scattered
flowers, and carefully placing them
among those given herself, fixed them
in her belt.
“ How could you rather dance with a
fellow like that— likely one of the gang
of tinkers that passed yesterday ? And
will you really wear the flowers he
gave?” replied the maiden with a scorn
ful sneer.
“ I wear the flowers for their own
sakes. How could you bieak them—
the beauties ?” replied Ellen, caressing
the boquet with a tender touch ; “ r.s
for dancing with the young man, I am
sure I am quite ready to do so again
were it only for his delightful music.”
Margaret drew herself away in digni
fled silence. She was quite horrified at
the conduct of Ellen ; and the young
man, who was hovering near,and watch
ing the maidens, again offered his hand
to Ellen; and, anxious to heal the
wound her companion had given, she
danced with him gladly. He saw she
was enraptured with his music, and he
was delighted when, at the close of the
festival, she asked him to proceed to
her father’s house, where she wished to
hear again his sweet strains. She had
an old piano—not a very good one, but
nevertheless one that gave her much
pleasure ; and she wished to try some of
the tunes he had played to the dancers.
Ellen’s sisters were very much afraid
she had compromised the family dignity
by dancing with this stroller, and they
grumbled about her asking bin: to their
home so late in the evening. ITe went,
however; and after Ellen and himself
had discoursed music for a considerable
length of time, to the delight of the old
folks, who were rather proud of Ellen’s
musical taste, he rose to leave.
offered him a bed in the barn
but be said he had to be miles away be
fore daylight ,so Ellen gave him a
piece of money and stuffed his pockets
with bread and beef and a large piece of
cheese, at the same time begging of him
if he ever came that way again to give
them the pleasure of listening to his
minstrelsy.
Sir Evan returned to his own castle,
lut he could not banish the image of
gentle Ellen from his heart. When he
slept or when he woke he always saw
her as she stood fixing the broken prim
roses in her belt— looking so sweet and
pretty in her white dress and blue rib
bons, and her rippling brown hair tossed
both by the evening breeze and by danc
ing ; and at length,when his mother re
newed her attacks upon him to get mar
ried, he told her of the maiden he had
learned to love so well.
The lady was dumfounded. Was
her darling son, the pride of her heart,
to wed a nameless, humble bride. But
as she pondered the matter over she be
came more reconciled to it. If he loved
this maiden his happiness was concern
ed ; and what was his true happiness
was hers. So after a short silence,
that almost seemed years, she raised
her head and asked Sir Evan if he had
cause to think the maiden returned his
love ?
“ I dare not say she does, mother,”
he replied, “ yet, I think she thought
tenderly of the strolling musician. I
think there was a sigh of regret that he
was not the son of a neighbor farmer.
I could read that in her dark gray eyes,
even when she was not the least consci
ous of it herself.”
“ God bless you, my son,” replied the
good lady, with a tremor in her voice,
“ God bless you, indeed ; so amiable a
maiden must prove a sweet campanion ;
and she must be in a measure accom
plished, accordong to your statement ;
and if it is for your happiness I am re
conciled.”
The young man kissed his mother’s
hand with tenderness and "latitude; and
he went at once to order out his carri*
age for the interesting journey. He
dressed with great care, and a finer
looking man could seldom he seen.
His well-knit limbs were lithe and
hardy looking, and showed the nimble
huntsman or the brave soldier, as the
occasion might demand. His dark, ha
zel eye was beautiful, and his curling
hair of the sunniest shade of brown.
His bushy whiskers were auburn, and
the habit of command gave a dignity
to his presence that heightened the
charm of the tfhole.
Ellen’s father saw the carriage ap
proach the house in great surprise, for
he knew the great yellow carriage,
though he had not seen it tor years.
He went, bonnet in hand,to meet the
laird, whilst his good wife hastily got
on her best cap, and looked to her
whiskey bottle and her bread and
cheese, in case he might alight to rest
his horses and get some refreshments,
as she had seen his excellent father
do.
Sir Evan leaped from the carriage,
and gayly entered the old house as it ;
he had been an acquaintance for years, i
to the great delight of the old farmer
and his wife. He partook of a glass of
rich cream and a piece of delicious oat
aud then asked to see the family. They
came one by one, tall, blushing girls,
and stout, health; looking, awkward
lads —all but Ellen’'; aud Sir Evau asked
if these were all.
“ We have cue other daughter, one
second eldest, but she is busy with some
household duties, and unfit to come in
to your presence; so we hope you wiii
excuse her, Sir Evan,” said the moth
er gravely.
“ Show me where to find her then
and I will go to her,” said Sir Evan,
with a strange quiver of lip and voice.
The mother was about to cad the
daughter, when one of the boys hastily
opeuing the door, pointed to the room
where Ellen was bujy taking the butter
from the churn. She was arrayed in a
plain gray linen dress clean and neat,and
the curls that had hung so prettily
about the neck and face at the wedding
were fastened back with a piece of
bright blue ribbon ; but the drooping,
lilly-like figure and the modest gray
eyes were the same, and the expression
he thought so angelic when she gather
ed the broken primroses was still the
same also ; indeed, as be gazed upon
her, he thought her more beautiful than
ever. She looked bewildered at the
fair face of the young man, and he took
her hand saying: “ I have accepted
your invitation, Ellen. Yon see I have
returned, though in good sooth your
eyes would speak a warmer welcome
if I had come with my tattered coat
and my fiddle.”
Ellen stood speechless in astonish
ment, for she saw, indeed, he was no
other than the strolling musician, for
that hazel eye had left a tender regret
in Ellen’s heart for which she had of
ten chided herself; and as it flashed
across her mind who he was and how
she had stuffed his pockets with bread
and beef, she fell on her knees, crying,
“ Forgive me, sir; oh, forgive me; I
knew not, indeed, you were any other
than what you seemed.”
“ Forgive you, Ellen ! Yes, my fair
girl,you have more need for forgiveness
than you think, for you have stolen my
peace of mind. Will you restore it to
me ? Will you be my partner now
again—for all my life loDg ?”
He raised her from the floor as he
spoke, and drew her tenderly toward
him, and she laid her face upon his
breast and wept tears of the purest joy
and gladness, as, amidst hi3 caresses,she
promised to be his through life. Ere
he led her back to get a blessing from
her parents, he took from his bosom a
boquet of the latest primroses of the
year, and fixed them on her breast,
whispering, “ These flowers must always
be sacred to us, for it was when you was
gathering those of mine so rudely
broken and scattered by an ungentle
hand, that my soul vent out to you in
the fullness of its first affection.”
So Ellen became the wife of Sir Evan;
and through life proved herself to be a
true wife, a loving mother, and a bene
factress to the poor and lowly.
Yonng Women and Young Men.
A correspondent of the Chicago
Tribune writes as follows: “ Having
thrown open your columns to the dis
cussion of the subject treated in your
issue of yesterday under the above cap
tion, I w'.sh to say that, in my opinion,
the great question is, “ Why do not
young people marry ?” The girls would,
if the boy3 would ask them ; hence we
must iufer that the boys don’t ask them.
And whence this reluctance to ‘ pop V
I answer, that the most sensitive part
of our organisation, our pocket, warns
us against orange-Llossoms and honey
moons. Now, I think this fear : s
groundless. I believe that any man
who can keep himself in tolerable com
fort can keep a wife. I never yet earn
ed more than S9OO a year, and I have
been married five years, within which
time we (I say emphatically we) ha7a
built up a comfortable home, and bavo
no debts that a month’s salary will not
cover. I have been once or twice in
rather tight places, but every difficulty
has yielded to persistent effort, and the
practice of systematic economy has en
abled us to tide over the troublous times.
But young men say the girls have such
high-toned ideas that they do not know
what economy is. and certainly will not
practice it. are hundreds of
girls in this town who know the value
of money, because they have to earn it
by hard work, who have to economise
rigidly to keep themselves in respecta
bility, who would jump at the chance
of giving up their daily toil for the
comfort of a homo of their own, how
ever humble. Try them. Go and tell
them honestly, “ 1 have but a moderate
salary, and I can’t afford a high-toned
house; but it seems to me that if you
and I were to put our heads together
we could build up a home in time.”—
For remember thi3, it takes time to fur
nish a house. I commenced with a
stove, a rough table, four chairs, and a
bedstead, in one room, on sl4 a week.
So you begin ; be content with a little
to start with ; don’t try to ape those
whose means will permit them to launch
out, but aim rather to get things togeth
er that are useful. And so jou may go
on, hand in hand, acquiring habits of'
economy and industry that will grow
with vour growth and prove greater
Dlessings than all the wealth that could
be given you, until at last you can build
yourself a brown stone front on Calu
met avenue if you choose. And be
lieve me when I say that you will prize
the home thus earned through patient
industrv and by years of toil more than
if you wait till you have the means to
get such a home before you marry.—
j You can call it our home and you will
1 look back to the day when you were
bold enough to venture as the best day’s
work you ever did.
It can be done. A man can do any
thing if he is really in earnest about it,
but both must be of the one mind and
one heart in this thing.
In Scotland, it is customary, when a
death occurs in a family, to send the
neu;nbors an invitation to att.-nd the
funeral. A “guid auld wife was passed
over in one of these dispensations, and,
with a heart full of indignant grief, she
watched the luneral gathering around
her'neignbor’s door. It was finally too
much for her, and she exclaimed, in a
tone of forced resignation : “Aweel,
aweel ! we’ll have a corpse o’ our ain in
our house some day; see, then, if she be
invited 1”
A Young Unn Who Wants Advice.
It was the second time he had accom
panied the young lady home from one of
those little social parties which are got
ten up to bring fond hearts a step nearer
to each other.
When they reached the gate she ask
ed him if he wouldn’t come in. He
Laid he would, and he follwed her into
the houee. “It was a calm, still night,”
the hour was so late that he had no
fear cf seeing the old folks. Sarah took
h;3 hat, told him to sit down, and she
left the roc*n to lay off her things.
She was hardly gone before her mother
came in, smiled sweetly, and dropping
down beside the young man she said :
“I always did say that if a poor but
respectable young man fell in love with
Sarah he should have my consent. Some
mothers would sacrifice their daughter’s
happiness ior riches, but lam not one
of that class.”
The young man gave a start of alarm.
He didn’t know whether he liked Sarah
or not, and he handn’t dreamed of such
a thing as marriage.
“She has acknowledged to me that
she loves you,” continved the mother,
“and whatever is for her happiness is
for mime.”
The young man gave two starts of
alarm this time, ana he felt his cheeks
grow*pale.
“I—l haven’t ”he stammered,
when she said :
“Oh, never mind. I know you
haven’t much money, but of course you
will live with me. We’ll take in boar
ders, and I’ll risk but that we’ll get a
long all right.”
It was a bad situation. He hadn’t
even looked love at Sarah, and he felt
that he ought to undeceive the mother.
“I hadn’t no idea of-—of ” he
stammered, when sue held up her hands
and said :
“I know you hadn’t, but it’s all right.
With your wages and what the boarders
bring in we shall get along as snug as
bugs in a rug.”
“But, madam, but—but
“All I ask is that you be good to her,”
interrupted the mother. “Sarah has a
tender heart and a loviug nature, and if
you should be cross and ugly it would
break her down within a week.”
The young man’s eyes stood out like
cocoanuts in a show window, and he
rose up and tried to say something.
He said :
“Great heavens ! madam, I can’t pre
mit -”
“Nevermind about the thanks,” she
interrupted. “I don’t belive in long
courtships myself, and let me suggest
an early day for the marriage . The
11th of September is my birthday, and
it would be nice for you to bo married
on that day.”
“But—but —but ” he gasped.
“There, thero, I don’t expect any j
speech in reply,” she laughed. “l r ou
aud Sarah fix it up to-night, and I’ll
advertise for twelve boarders right away.
I’ll try and be a model mother-in-law.
I believe I am good tempered and kind
hearted, though I did once follow a
young man two hundred miles and shoot
the topof his head off for agreeing to mar
ry Sarah U nu thea jumping the bounty!”
She patted him on the head and
sailed out, and now the young man .
..ants advice. He wants to know
whether he had better get in the way of
a locomotive or slide off the wharf.
Love for Love.
Ragged, dirty, ugly. He had fallen
in the muddy gutter ; his hands and
face were black; his mouth wide open,
and sending forth sounds not the most
musical. A rugh hand lifted him up,
and placed him against the wall. There
he stood, his tears making little gutters
down his begrimmed cheeks. Men, as
they passed, laughed at him, not caring
fora moment to stop and inquire if he was
really hurt. Boys halted a moment to
jeer and load him with their insults.—
Poor boy !he hadn’t a friend in the
world that he knew of. Certainly he
did not deserve one ; but if none hut
the deserving had friends, how many
would be friendless!
A lady is passing ; her kindness of
heart prompts her to stay and say a kind
word to the boys who are joking their
companion and laughing at his sorrow
Then she looked fixedly at the dirty
lad against the wall.
“Why, John, is it you?”
He removes one black fist from h’s
eye and looks up. He recognizes her
She Las taught him at the ragged
school.
“Oh ma’am, I’m so bad !”
She has him examined, then taken
to the hospital. Afterwards she visits
him kiudly and friendly.
A year passes by.
Thete is a fire one n’ght. A dwelling
house is in flames. The engine has not
yet arrived. The immates cannot be
reached. A boy looks on. Suddenly
be shouts :
“Oh she lives here !”
Then he climbs the heated, falling
stairs. He fights against the suffocat
ing smoke, lie hunts about till he
finds what he sought. She has fainted
—is dying perhaps. No Ihe will save
her. Five minutes of agonizing sus
pense and she i3 safe in the cool air.
The by-stauders are struck with the
intrepidity of the boy. lie only walks
away muttering :
“She didn’t turn from me when I wsa
hurt.”
Oh, freinds the stone looks very rough
but it may be a diamond.
“As to being conflicted with the gout,”
said Mrs. Partington, “high living don’t
bring it on. It is incoherent in some
families, and is banded down from fath
er to son. Mr. Hammer, poor soul, who
has been so Ion" ill with it, disinherited
j it from bis’ Wife’s grand-mother:”
C annot IMcase Every! : Jy.
“If you pLase,” said the Weather
cock to the Wiod, “ turn mo to the
south. There is such a cry out against
the cold, that I am afraid they will put
me down if I stop much longer on this
north quarter.”
So the Wind blew fr>m the south
and the Sun was master of title day,and
rain fell abundantly.
“ Oh,please turn me from the south,”
said the Weathercock to the Wind
again.
“ The potatoes will be spoilt, and the
corn wants dry weather, and while I am
here rain it will; and what with the
feat, and the wet, the farmers are just
mad against me.”
So the Wind shifted to tho east, and
there came soft, drying breezes, day af
ter day.
“ Oh, dear!” said the Weathercock,
“ Here is a pretty to do ! such evil
looks as I get from the eyes of all around
me the first every morning ! The grass
is getting parched up and there is no
water for the stock ; aud what is to be
done ? As to the gardeners, they say
there won’t be a pea to be seen, and the
vegetables will wither away. l)o turn
me somewhere else.”
So the Wiua changed to the east.
“ What do they say to you now ?” he
asked.
“What?” cried the Weathercock;
“ why, everybody has caught cold, ev
erything is blighted—that’s what they
say, and there isn’t a misfortune that
happens, but some how or other they
lay it to the east wind.”
“ Well,” cried the Wind, “let them
find fault; I see it is impossible for you
and 1 to please everybody ; so in future
I shall blow where I like, without ask
ing any questions. I don’t know but
that we shall satisfy more than we can
do now, with all our consideratiou.”
Golden Words.
The habit of looking on the bright side
is invaluable. Men aud women who are
evermore reckoning up what they want
rather than what they have —counting
the difficulties in the way, instead of
contriving means to overcome them—
are almost certain to live on corn bread
fat pork, and salt fish, and sink to un
marked graves. The world is sure to
smile ou a man who seems to be sue*
cessful, but let him go about with a
crestfallen air, and the very dog> iu the
stieet will set upon him. We must all
have losses. Late frost will nip the
fruit in the bud, banks will break, in
vestments will prove worthless, valuable
horses will die, and china vases will
break, but all these calamities do not
come at once. The wise course to pur
sue when one plan fails is to form an
other ; when one prop is kuocked from
under us, fill its place with a substitute,
and evermore count what is left rather
than what is taken. When the final
reckoning is made, if it appears that we
have not lost the consciousness of our
iuternal rectitude; if we have kept
charity toward all men; if by the vari
ous discipline of life, we have been
freed from follies and confirmed in vir
tues, whatever we have lost, the great
balance sheet will be in your favor.—
Rural New Yorker.
A Child’s Prayer. —Sho war hard-,
ly able to talk plainly, and a policeman
had to give her his hand to assist her up
the steps into the Central Station. ‘‘Did
you put my mother in jail ?” she asked
as she pushed her sunbonnet back and
looked from one to another. They had
arrested a red faced, tangled- haired wo
man, who fought the officers and made
use of foul language. No one dreamed
that the child was hers, but it was. The
little child was so innocent and pure that
they didn’t want her to even see the
iron bars, but the mother heard her
voice, called to her and they opened the
corridor door. The child grasped the
iron door, looked into the cell, and cried
out:
••Why, mother, your are in jail!”
The mother crowded back,ashamed of
herself,and the child knelt down on the
stone floor, clung to the iron bars of the
door, and prayed :
“Now I lay me down to sleep, and I
hope my mother will be let ont of
jail!”
The men had tears in their eyes a3
they gently removed her, and when the
woman came into court yesterday morn
ing to be tried his Honor whispered to
her to go home and try for that child’s
sake to be a mother instead of a wretch.
Danger in the Cup.
The Rev. W. 11. 11. Murray, in a re
cent sermon in Faneuil Hall, Boston,
dealt with the subject of intemperance
1 thus : “ You are talking like siily idi
ots when you say there is no danger iD
the cup. I know from the blood of five
generations of cider-drir king ancestors
in my veins the danger there is in this
thing. There is not a scent of liquor
that is not pleasant to me, that would
not be a precious drop to my tongue.
Look at me. Do I look like a man easy
to be overcome by temptation ? Do you
know my life ? Go back and learn it,
and see what I have suffered ; and yet
I say to you. with this back-ground of
evidence—l declare to you, as I value
my manhood, and my standing, and my
soul—l would not dare to drink for
three weeks ?■ glcss of liquor a day.
The chasm yawns at your feet, and at
|my feet. '1 hose who say there is no
danger in the first glass of liquor do
not recognize the peril of hereditary
weakness.”
In watching with sick people, eat a
regular meal before going into the room
and repeat at intervals of not over four
hours; this keeps the stomach in a state
of excitement which repels itifhctioii;'
VOL. VI.—NO. 8.
I>amaged Men.
1 ou can see, any day, in the streets of
any city, men look damaged. Men, too}
of good original material who started
out in life with generous aspirations.—*
Once it was said they were bright, prom
ising lads; once they looked happily
into the faces of mothers, whose daily*'
breath was a prayer for their purity
and peace. Ah ! what if some of them
have vowed their souls away to confldo
ing wives who silently wonder what cac
he the meaning of this change—the
cc!d, tfow-creep shadow that is coming
over the house and heart. <
Going to the bad! The spell of evil !
companionship; the willingness to hold
aud use money not honestly gained ; the 1
stealthy, seductive, plausiblo advance of
the appetite for strong drink; the
treacherous fascination of the gambling
table; the gradual loss of interest iri
business aud doings that build a man
up; the rapid weakenings of all noble
purposes; the decay of manliness; the
recklessness and blasphemy against fate;
the sullen dispair of ever breaking the
chains of evil habit. What victories of
shame and contempt, what harvests of
hell, have grown from such steed as
this ! Sneer, if you will, like a fool,
at the suggestion of reform, morals and
religion. Every man knows, in his
better moods, that all there is of true
life is persona) virtue and rectitude of
character. Going to the bad ! But
there is hope. Earth and heaven aro
full of hands ever reaching to help the
lost man back to the better way. All
the good there is in the universe is in
sympathy with that little goodness which
inwardly reproves and protests.
How to Keep a Subscriber.
An indignant farmer entered the of-,
fice of the Elizabeth News, and ordered
his paper discontinued because he dif
fered from the editor in his views in re
gard to the advantages of subsoiling
fence-rails. The editor,of course,conceded
the man’s right to stop his paper, but
he coolly remarked looking over his
list:
“ Do you know Jim Sowders, down
at Hardscramble V’
“ Very well,” said the man.
“ Well, he stopped his paper last
week because I thought a farmer was a
blamed fool who did not know that tim
othy was a good thing to graft on huck
leberry bushes, and he was dead in four
hours.”
“ Lord ! is that so ?” said the aston
ished stranger.
“ Yes, and you know old George
Erickson, down on Eagle creek V*
“ Well, I’ve heard of him.”
“ Well,” said the editor,gravely, “he
stopped his paper because I said he was
the happy father of twins, and eongrat*
ulated him on his success so late in his
life. He fell dead in twenty minutes.
There are lots of similar cases,but don’t
matter. I’ll just cross your name out,
though you don’t look strong,and there
is a bad color on your nose.”
“ See here, Mr. Editor,” said the
subscriber, looking somewhat alarmed,
“I believe I’ll just keep on an other
year, ’cause I always did like your pa
per ; and,come to think about it,you’re
a young man, and some allowance orter
be made.”
And he departed satisfied that he had
made a narrow escape from death.
New Treatment of Cancer.
Anew and wonderful applicatipp <?£
alcohol has recently been made in tbp
treatment of tumors and cancer.
Schwalbe of Weinheim, has reported
100 cases of various forms of indolent
glandular swellings treated sucessfully
by the subcutaneous injection of the
tincture of iodine. Latterly he has
used injections of simple alcohol in fifty
similar cases, and has found the results
equally|favorable and the time required
for a cure no greater, and he therefore
concludes that the alcohol is the essen*
tial remedial agent. He explains its
curative action as follows : It establishes
a state of chronical inflammation in the
connective tissue, causing it to contract
by degrees, and thus pressure is brought
upon the vessels and the lymphatics
are obliterated. These effects, and th e
consequent hardening of the connective
tissue, he proposes to utilize in the treat*
ment of other tumors, and reports the
cure of fatty tumors by the use of such
injections, to which some other was add
ed in order to dissolve the fat. lie finds
however, the most important application
of his plan in the treatment of cancer
by preventing its extention to the neigh*
boring tissues and lymphatic glands.—
The tumor i first to be isolated, as it’
were by causing the connective tissue,
on all sides of it to become shriveled.
Then the contractive connective tissue,
presses upon it, cuts off its blood supply
and so causes it to disappear by atrophy.
Lymphatic glands which are already
affected are to be similarly treated.—
Schwalbe, with Dr. Ilasse, claims to
have cured three cases of cancer of the
breast in thi3 way.
If the gates of heaven were suddenly
to swing open, and all mankind be ask
ed on equal terms to enter the kingdom,
some people would pause to see what
some other people were going to do about,
it, and some would draw back for fear
that the celestial city was getting vul
gar, and some would refuse altogether,
>f thej saw so-and-so about to enter.
Let all your bouse cleaning opera
tions be conducted with regard,to health,
even more than appearances. Thorou
ghly air and ventilate and wash all car
pets, clothing, ect, especially those that
ihave beed packed away iu garretff,’
closets and out-of-way places.