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KNOXVILLE JOURNAL
KNOXVILLE, GEORGIA.
Herbert Spencer estimates the parlia¬
mentary or “lobbying” expenses of En¬
glish railway companies at $260,000 per
annum.
A private soldier says that desertions
from the army are largely due to the
tyranny of the younger officers and the
drunkenness of the older ones.
During the last ten years Americans
have contributed $20,000,000 to relieve
suffering caused by disasters and epi¬
demics. Not such a very bad record,
observes the New York Tribune.
“For every five girls you put into busi¬
ness offices,” says a New Yorker, “you
will make three old maids. They will
be appreciated for their work just as boys
are, but they will lose the influence of
their sex over men.”
More than 15,000,000 railroad cross-ties
are used annually in the United States,
to furnish which requires the destruction
of nearly 200,000 acres of forest. This
fact illustrates the necessity of tree plant¬
ing and the preservation of our forests
from wanton destruction.
The most versatile American has been
discovered at Mosherdale, Hillsdale Coun¬
ty, Mich. He is a regularly ordained
preacher, but also practices medicine and
surgery, has proved his ability to gain a
living as a cabinet-maker, and is a skill¬
ful draughtsman, surveyor and fruit gar¬
dener.
United States Consul Mason, of Mar¬
seilles, writes to the State Department
that the effects of general and unre
strained absinthe-drinking in France are
now reoegnized as forming a basis of one
of the gravest dangers which threaten
the physical and moral welfare of the
people of France.
We are constructing some very big
guns for our new navy. Two have just
been turned out with a muzzle velocity
of 2000 feet per second and a range of
ten miles each. These, says the New Or¬
leans Times-Demoerat, would assist ma¬
terially in keeping the flies off any for¬
eign man-of-war that dared to approach
our coast with hostile intent.
Professor Richards, of Yale College,
has made a study of the records of 2425
students in order to determine, if possible,
the relations of athletics in Yale to
scholarship. The general result is that
the athletes fall slightly behind the non¬
athletes in scholarship, but not so much
as to demand a suppression of those
exercises. In some branches of athletic
exercises the students who engage in the
sports are above the average of non*
athletes in scholarship.
Five Indians recently appeared as wit¬
nesses in a land case at Los Angeles, Cal.,
one of whom, Juan Sabera, claimed to be
one hundred and twenty years old, and
said he was twelve years of age when the
San Gabriel Mission was founded. An¬
other one of the quintet was Juan Cal
mila, whose years numbered one hundred
and fifteen. The other members of the
group were Francisco Apache, one hun¬
dred and five; Ramon Largo, one hun¬
dred and four, and Harahisjo Cabojon.
who was a mere boy of eighty.
Said a lieutenant on board the British
warship Buzzard: “Were I in charge of
a battery when engaged with either the
Boston or the Atlanta, I would make a
target out of the afterdeck and destroy
the steering gear. The ship losing this
would then be unmanageable and at the
mercy of her antagonist.” It is said
that the confidential photograph books
of nearly every British cruiser contain
plates of every ship in the United States
service. Many of these photographs
were taken by the instantaneous process
while the ships were under way.
An Englishman contributes to a recent
issue of the St. James Gazette an extraor¬
dinary article on the lack of fighting
qualities of the American. He declares
that there was no real fighting in our
Civil War, and that at any time during
the first two years a well equipped divis¬
ion of 10,000 disciplined troops could
have cleaned out either side within three
months. But when he gets down to the
probable results of a war between the
United States and a European power,
says the San Francisco Chronicle , he is
most amazing. “He figures out that if a
war did not result in the South seizing
the opportunity to secede again, then the
cowboys and Indians of the West, both
of whom ‘hate the grangers’ and detest
the Government, would unite and devas¬
tate the country. The picture of the
onion of ‘Lo’ and the cowboy is a bit of
unconscious British humor which throws
into the shade the best efforts of the
AJMricaa wits*”
A.T SET OK SUN.
The soft’ning twilight creeps apace,
The aftermood of stormful day,
And dose within its fond embrace
The yielding shadows wilt away,
At set of sun.
The heart’s soft twilight creeps apace,
The aftermood of stormful day.
And hides within its calm embrace
The pride that held imperial sway,
At set of sun.
—Anna J. Hamilton.
PACKARD’S CARPET.
BY MARY C. HTOGERFORD.
The old missionary known familarily
as “Priest Packard” lived in a rough
border community, where religion was
so highly disapproved of by the leading
spirits, that to profess it was to become
in most instances a target for abuse. He
was a giant in size and strength, and his
prowess and bravery had won admiration
for himself, and, as a personal compli¬
ment, some slighting toleration for the
doctrine he taught in his earnest, unlet¬
tered fashion.
His great age left his muscular Chris¬
tianity simply a matter of tradition, and
now he and his daughters were kept from
starving, chiefly by a yearly pittance sent
them from a humane society in the East.
Within a large, cheerless room, which
was the principal one in the barn-like
house they occupied, sat the pair of el¬
derly women, inaptly called by their fa¬
ther, “the girls.” Idle moments were
rare with them, but some engrossing mat¬
ter had made one turn from the dande¬
lion greens she was washing, and im¬
pelled the other to drop the shoe to
which she was attaching a clumsy patch.
‘ ‘It seems a p’int of duty for us to
write to brother Nathan’s child,” Lucin¬
da, the elder sister was saying.
“There ’aint been ink enough in the
house to drown a fly, sense father took
the shaking palsy,” was Minerva’s an¬
swer; “an’ ef there was, neither one of
us could write a letter fit to go into a
public postoffice.”
“I don’t see,” said the other sister,
fretfully, “what answer we could give,
anyway. ”
“Well, settlin’ on the answer don’t
b’long to us; it’s for father to say,” said
Minerva, nodding her head sidewise to¬
ward a wooden rocking-chair where
“Priest Packard” sat, with a pillow at
his shoulders, a pathetic figure, with his
loDg, attenuated ■which, frame and poor, worn
out clothes, in immaculate clean¬
ness and profuse decoration of darns and
patches, testified to his daughters’ care.
The soft June wind, coming in flower
scented from a window beside him,waved
the white locks lying on bis thin temples.
One shaking hand lay helpless on the arm¬
chair ; the other held loose grasp of a re¬
motely dated religious weekly. His blue
eyes, clear and bright, in spite of their
crape-like setting of wrinkles, were ab¬
sently turned to the cloudless sky. His
ears, only open to loud sounds, were closed
to the -women’s low talk, and he was say¬
ing softly to himself, again and again,
the line: “Must I be kerried to the skies
on flowery beds of ease?”
“No, no,” he ejaculated at last, in
louder tones, turning toward the “girls.”
“’Tain’t fittin’fur a private like mo to
hanker fur better things than the great
Cap’n hed when He was on airtfi.”
‘‘What is it now, father?”
“Oh, the same old story. When I’d
oughter be praisin’ God fur His goodness,
my mind wanders off to that carpet.”
“Lor, father, can’t you quit yearnin’
fur a carpet?”
“Yes,” contritely. “A body would
think thet arter livin’ twenty year on
stomped airth floors, an’ then gettin’ so
fine as to hev reg’lar-built plankin’ floor
fur twenty year, I might furget ther’ ever
wuz a carpet.”
“I’m sure I’ve forgot ever seein’ any
that bionged to any o’my folks,” said
Minerva.
“You was too little ter take notice,
but we always had ’em ’fore we moved
out this way, J often think of what yer
ma gev up to merry a poor circuit preach¬
er. En when the call come for missioners
to carry on the work here, when ’twiiz
wuss even than ’tis now, ’cause our lives
warn’t scursely safe, she jes rose an’
obeyed the call, en lef’ her father’s com¬
fortable farm-house in Varmount, where
we’d gone on livin’ arter we wuz merrled,
en where you en your brother wuz born.
Every floor in that house was carpeted,
an’ the best parlor where we was merrled,
had one on it thet wuz jes alive with
big, head, red an’ roses ground as large round as a bar’l
a greener’n grass. No,
your ma never spent her time complain¬
in’, but I guess she re’Jy broke her heart
in a dumb kine er way oyer her oldest,
our only boy, that we left with his gran’
ma.
“An’she never seen him again,” said
Lucinda, leading up to some news she
wished to impart.
“No,” shaking his head sadly, “we
never see our first-born again, though he
lived to be a man growed up and merried,
’fore he wuz swep’ away to jine his
mother.”
‘ ‘Brother Nathan left a widder en child,
you know,” pursued his daughter, getting
nearer the subject.
“Yes; we got the news in a letter.
Poor Nathan, he—”
“Well, pa, there’s another letter come,
an’ there’s more news; the widder’s
dead!”
The old man looked surprised; hardly
grief-stricken; for he had never seen his
son’s wife. “All gone,” he said, softly,
“them strong young folks, an’ I’m left
cum’brin’ the ground.”
‘‘They ain’t all gone,” said Minerva;
“there’s a child left.”
“Nathan’s boy!” exclaimed her father,
joyfully. “But who’s to look after him
now?”
‘ ‘ Taint a boy; it’s a girl; and there’s
been some mismanagement of the prop
ean ’ she’s left without an’
she wants to here a cent,
come to us. The doc¬
tor that tended her mother, free of
charge, is going to pay her way ef we’ll
take her.”
“Of course we’ll take her,an’ be glad,”
said her father. “But she’ll find it kine
er roughish here. I wisht we could ’ft
made out to get. a carpet ’foreshe come.”
“I don’t see how we’re goin’ to take
care of her, anyway,” said Minerva, sor
rowfully. like “There’s times when it seems
we’d starve ourselves, en I don’t
know how we’re goin’ to fill another
mouth. Even with the Christmas bar’l
cornin’ every year from that church in the
East, we hev a tumble squeeze gettin’
along with the ’lowance from the ‘Super¬
annuated Ministers’ Fund.’ Ef ’twarn’t
fer Cindy’s garden we’d die in our
tracks.”
“But we couldn’t refuse to take the
child in—our own flesh an’ blood,” said
her father, pleadingly.
They could not indeed refuse, poor
though they were, the women agreed,and
four weeks later Hetty Packard knocked
at her grandfather’s door, after the long
journey which the novelty of traveling
had made very enjoyable.
Her welcome from the old man was
touchingly tender, but the aunts were
too greatly appalled to be decently cordial
at first. They had half expected a child,
but here was a tall, beautiful young
woman, whose cheap but stylish dress
and hat seemed to their untrained eyes
like royal apparel, in contrast with the
indigo prints, coarse faded blanket
shawls, and dreary slat sunbonnets that
composed their own open-air costumes.
It was truly a rough home for Hetty,
used as she had been to the comfortable
civilization of New England country life,
but she took her lot heroically, and after
a day or two of very natural depression,
which she managed to keep to herself,
she fitted herself into her place as if sht
had always lived there. She had the
charming faculty of drawing out the best
of every one, and soon the shy aunts were
won to a worshipful admiration of her,
that formed the excitement of their color¬
less lives. The old grandfather awoke
to a new interest in life, and the two
were soon as devoted friends as if a gulf
of three-score years had not stretched be¬
tween them.
The enchantment of her presence ex¬
tended even to the bleak old house.
Wild vines were planted at its door, and
home-made brackets and shelves, a shade
for the hideous lamp, and other simple
devices for tempering its dreariness crept
in and softened the asperities of the big,
barren “living-room.” In Hetty's zeal
for improvement she had broached the
question of papering the unplastered
walls, but her proposal was met by a
statement of their meagre resources from
her aunts, which filled her with dismay.
“You never should have let me come,”
she cried, “to add to your burdens; but
now I am here, I must, work for you, and
not let it cost you anything to keep me.
I can sew nicely, and I am sure I can earn
a good deal at that. Perhaps I can even
earn enough to make you more com¬
fortable than before I came. ” ,#
It was hard to make her realize that
their fnr-apart neighbors were either too
poor or too indifferent to appearance to
hire sewing done,
“But at any rate, somebody shall give
me work,” said the pretty, determined
creature, not cast down by this dis¬
couraging statement of facts. “If I can¬
not get it here, I will write to the
Women’s Exchange in some great city,
and ask them to send me some embroidery
to do. If no express comes so far into
the wilderness, Uncle Sam will bring me
the things in his mail-bags.”
She carried out her plan successfully,
and many small comforts found their way
into the straitened household as a result
of her earnings.
But with all the brightness and cheer
she brought into other lives, Hetty had
her own secret sorrow, and one day Aunt
Cin surprised her hiding away in the
loft, with her lovely little face all down¬
cast and tear-stained. The woe and sym¬
pathy in the good woman’s troubled eyes
won her a confidence,and with her flushed
face turned resolutely away, she told her
story. There had been a fair and lawn
party at their church in Vermont last
September, where she was one of the
attendants at the flower temple. A party
of summer boarder had driven over from
the Springs, twenty miles away, and one
of them had devoted himself to Hetty so
assiduously that Mrs. Bliss, the doctor’s
wife, and first directress of the sewing
society and the possessor of certain pre¬
judices against city young men, was very
angry. But it was not the devotion of a
day only, for Allen Dunscombe took daily
rides over to Hetty’s home as long as his
his vacation lasted.
It was only to “break a country heart
for pastime ere he went to town,” Mrs.
Bliss said, still unbelieving in his good
intentions, and the injustice to her lover
wounded Hetty so deeply that when on
Allen’s last day he won her promise to
be his wife, she proudly kept their en¬
gagement a secret.
No word or sign had come from him
during the long sad winter that followed
that brjglft, glad autumn, and poor Hetty
lived through the bijfor miseries of her
mother’s sickness qnd death, and the
loneliness with the heavy and underlying poverty which followed^
burden at her
heart that Allen’s silence gave.
“Nqw,” she said, her eyes dry, and
bright as stars, “yoq must stop crying,
Aunt Cin, I can’t beep up if you don’t
stop,”
“But how could any man be false to a
dear, trusting baby like you?” sobbed
Aunt Cin.
“Allen has not been false,” said Hetty,
impressively. “I think he must be dead,
and some day I shall hear all about it. I
should die if I could not believe in him.
Now tell Aunt Min, if you like, but never,
never speak to me about in again.”
Nearly all of Hetty’s embroidering was
done by the side of her grandfather, and
as he grew daily more childish, he prat¬
tled to her constantly of his old home,
where he walked on carpeted floors.
“The lord knows, child,” he would
say, that I don’t grudge Him the work
I’ve done fur the cause, nor the hardship
me an’ your gran’ma went through with
when we was houseless an’ homeless,
chased hither an’ yon by roughs an’ raid¬
ers; but I jes wisht I could be quit er
hearin’ folks stompin’ on bare boards, en
set my old feet onto a carpet wonst
more.”
Hetty sympathized with him, and saved
to the utmost, small sums from her scant
earnings toward the purchase of a carpet;
but every time the savings reached a
slightly encouragingfigure, some stringent
need arose in the family, and she could
not withold her store.
Then winter came, and the old man,
rapidly growing feeble, was quite shut in,
and deprived of even the soft carpet of
grass which his shuffling feet preferred to
the objectionable planks. In every other
way he was a marvel of patience, but his
lamentations over the want of a carpet
nearly drove the women mad with pity,
“I was a-dreamin’ of my own funeral,
child,” he said to Hetty, as he roused
himself from a long nap “I don’t feel
to hev much dread of it in general, but I
seemed to hear the trompin’ of the men’s
feet on the boards as they kerried me out,
an’ it hurt my very heart, Hetty, re’ly it
did.”
Hetty was desperate. “He shall have
a writing carpet,” she said, of the imperatively; old man’s and
an account fancy,
that was touching, from its simple truth,
she begged for an advance sufficient to
buy a cheap carpet, pledging herself to
pay for it in work.
Then the women, not telling what had
been attempted, for fear of disanpoint
ment, watched for a letter long before
there was a possibility of getting an an
swer. At last the teamster, whose week¬
ly trip to the far-away railroad station
and postoffice was the wide neighbor¬
hood’s only communication with the out¬
side world, brought Hetty a thick pack¬
age, from which fell out a number of
letters, all directed to herself in Vermont.
The explanation was in a letter enclosed
with them, from the man she had refused
to believe false to her, and the unopened
letters were his vindication.
On reaching home, after the autumn
vacation when he met her, he had been
despatched, at an hour’s notice, to Japan
by the firm who employed him. It was
a mission of great responsibility, an op¬
portunity not to be refused, but the time
allowed was all required to master the
details, and there was not a moment for
writing; to Hetty. The first letter he
had the opportunity of sending was so
many months in reaching Vermont that
Mrs. Bliss, who considered herself a
model of Worldly wisdom, decided that
Hetty had better not hear from one who,
she felt certain, meant no good. She
took the responsibility of suppressing it,
as well as the many which followed, till
at last they ceased to come.
On Allen’s return from Japan he wrote
immediately, hoping to obtain an ex¬
planation of his unansewered letters, and
Mrs. Bliss, being somewhat pricked by
her conscience, returned all the letters to
the business address printed on the last,
but refused to furnish him with Hetty’s
address.
“I should have found you some way,
dear,” he wrote, “but accident helped
me. My cousin is one of the bookkeep¬
ers at the‘Women’s Exchange,’and to¬
night I found her crying over a letter
that had been given her to answer. It
was yours, Hetty, and I am not ashamed
to tell you, that I cried too—with joy
that I found you, and sorrow that you
were in trouble. You can be sure that
I started for a carpet store at once, but
they were all shut up, so I flew home to
write this to you.
“The poor old duffer (excuse me, I
mean clergyman) shall have his carpet as
fast as steam can carry it to him, if one
I with yard-wide roses on a bright green
ground, is still an article of commerce in
these (Esthetic days. And, my darling, I
hope to get to you as soon as the carpet,
for I will trust no more to letters. An¬
other night shall find me speeding to¬
ward my little girl, who shall never es¬
cape me again, for if I cannqt persuade
you tq leave that wild place, my pearl of
pearls, my long-lost jewel that I am fly¬
ing to claim, I shall give up the tempt¬
ing prospect of a junior partnership in
‘our firm,’ and turn cowboy and stay
with you there.”
The sick man’s happiness was pathetic.
He rejoiced in Hetty’s innocent joy at
having her lover’s truth proved, but his
enfeebled mind dwelt most on the pros¬
pect of having his dearest wish gratified.
The lover arrived before the carpet,
which he assured them was speedily to
follow. It would have accompanied him,
but a little time was required to pack and
ship it, and he was too impatient to wait.
The old man’s eyes kindled with almost
youthful fire when, replying to his eager
questions, Allen described the glories of
the new carpet. He had grown too
weak to sit up, but, as he piteously ex¬
plained, “He’d feel more like getting
about when he had a carpet to walk on.
An’ roses on it, too, ” he whispered to
Hetty, as she gave him a drink, “like
them big posies, mebbe, thet me an’ her
stood upon to get merried. I wuz too
shamefaced to look the minister in the
eye ’fore all her folks, so I stared down
at the big red noses, an’ thought how
glad I’d be ter give her poises to walk on
all her days,”
The sun was setting when the grinding
of heavy wheels and the teamster’s loud
whoas to his horses, as they brought the
loaded wagon to the door, broke the
awed silence that the approach of death
imposgs upon even the most thoughtless.
The sounds wakened the old man, who
had lain for hours In a half stupor. “It
has cornel" he exclaimed, joyfully. “The
carpet’s come! I—I—am ’feared I ain’t
got strength to walk on it much, but any¬
how 'twill be here for the funeral, an’
there won’t be no trompin’ an stompin’
on bare boards.”
They ran to the door to hurry the treas¬
ure in, and with eager hands cut the cord,
and tore the coarse wrappings from the
roll, hastening to throw a length on the
floor before the bed where the dying man
lay with his face turned outward.
There it was, resplendent in the glories
of its big, old-fashioned roses. But the
spirit that had longed for it so fervently
had taken its silent flight beyond the sun,
to the golden city where the roses of
paradise bloom fadeless forever.— Har¬
Bazar,
Miss Hu King Eng,of Foochow, China,
is studying medicine in the Woman’s
Medical College of Pennsylvania. She
is petite, plump, intelligent, but of v
course not straight looking, and is quite
a fav&rite with her follow students.
NEWS AND NOTES FOB WOMEN,
Foulards seem to be in very higb favor.
Opals in daw settings are favorite ear
rings.
Mutton-leg sleeves are becoming to
every one.
The hem of a widow’s veil is deeper
than ever.
Old-fashioned berege is again worn to
some extent.
There are a dozen Working Girls’
Clubs in Boston,
The skirts of tulle dresses are now
made in fan plisses .
Narrow plaitings are no longer used to
finish the edge of dresses.
The highest salary obtained by any one
woman in Maine is $1600.
Fruit is only occasionally used as deco¬
ration for hats and bonnets.
Rosa Bonheur,the great French animal
painter, is seventy years old.
Sailor hats in colored straw are effec¬
tively trimmed with black lace.
New queen chain pendants are clusters
[>f moonstones with claw settings.
Some of the newest gauze fans are
mounted on sticks of frosted silver.
The old-fashioned red coral necklace is
to be seen about some fair throats.
Of the 334 inmates in the Fulton, Mo.,
insane asylum, but one is a woman.
Dressy young married ladies wear white
tulle veils with capote-shaped bonnets.
Many of the summer dresses made of
thin fabrics have bodices without darts.
Mourning is worn for a longer period in
the United States than any other coun
try.
The ribbons used for sewing in rows
on net dresses are generally two inches
wide.
The Directoire ruffle of white or black
lace is one of the features of summer
gowns.
Yellow daffodils were the floral table
decorations much used in London this
spring.
It has been found that 10,000 books
have been written by women in the United
States.
A new statue of Queen Victoria has
been erected in the London University
building.
Five hundred women have already ap¬
plied for positions as factory inspectors
in New York.
Mrs. Hetty Green, worth $30,000,000,
walks when she is in New York to save
street car fare.
White silk brocaded or lace parasols
are not seen to advantage in an unex¬
pected shower.
Effective hairpins are topped with stars
of cut silver, which glisten as if set with
brilliant gems.
English ladies wear large, soft silk ties,
the color of the gown, in place of the
discarded boas.
The popular Alsatian bow of ribbon
used as bonnet decoration is often edged
with gold braid.
The Duchess of Edinburgh has five
huge sapphires which blazed out at the
last drawing room.
The ex-Empress Eugenie is renewing
her youth by a course of baths at an Eng¬
lish watering place.
Women are to be admitted to the Hart¬
ford (Conn,) Theological College on the
same terms as men.
The attendants in the Queen of Eng¬
land’s household ai;p on duty only six
months out of twelve.
Expensive parasol handles are those of
solid gold, with monograms in diamonds
and rubies on the end.
Sir John A. Macdonald, the Canadian
Prime Minister, favors women voting for
members of Parliament.
Lady Burdett-Coutts is the only woman
who has received the freedom of the city
of Edinburgh, Scotland.
In five months the police matrons of
Philadelphia 1129 have had under their care
women and 133 children.
Some new satteens have black grounds
with large Empire green or bright red
flowers scattered over their surfaces.
The Woman’s Medical College of
Chicago is about to erect a new building
which will accommodate 250 students.
Mrs. Smith teaches laundry work at
Forsyth College, England, writes novels,
makes dresses and invents new recipes.
Among the quaint parasol handles of
the present season are perfectly simulated
straps, buckles and all in oxidized silver.
Princess Victoria of Teek, the prettiest
princess ip England, Is talked about as
the future wife of Prince Albert Victor.
Unmarried ladies are beginning to as¬
sert their independence by setting up
housekeeping for themselves in New
York.
Mrs. John A. Logan is about to found
a post-graduate course of domestic train¬
learning, ing for women in a Chicago institution of
A woman living in the central part of
New York State has a flower farm of
seventeen acres from which she some¬
times clears $2000 a year.
Five hundred women in Tokio and
Yokohama have subscribed to a fund for
the purchase of a handsome Bible to be
presented to the Empress of Japan.
Fourteen thousand girls are attending
the London School Board Cookery cen¬
ters. Still further facilities for increas¬
ing this number are now being made.
Seven girls in a ladies’ seminary near
Northampton, England, have been sus¬
pended for smoking cigarettes made of
tea leaves which they rolled themselves.
A Frenchman who evidently lias good
powers of observation asserts that an
American woman is instantly known by
the fact thae she puts on her gloves in
the street.
There are now 600 Irish ladies, im¬
poverished because unable to collect any
rent for their property, selling their work
throu S h the »g e “cy of a London com
mittee headed by the Queen and having
l ' ie Princess Louise for one of its mem
Ijur *’
SHE TALKED.
She talked of Cosmos and of Cans*,
And wove green elephants in ganxa, I
And while she frescoed earthen
Her tongue would never pause;
On sages wise and esoteric,
And bards from Wendell Holmes to Hen
rick—
Thro’ time’s proud Pantheon she walked, I
And talked and talked and talked aij
talked!
And while she talked, she would crochet^
And make all kinds of macrame,
Or paint green bobolinks upon
Her mother’s earthen tray;
She’d decorate a smelling bottle,
While she conversed on Aristotle;
While fame’s proud favorites round ha
flocked, anJ
She talked and talked and talked
talked!
She talked and made embroidered rugs,
She talked and painted ’lasses jugs,
And worked five sea green turtle dovd
On papa’s shaving mugs;
With Emerson or Epictetus,
Plato or Kant, she used to greet us;
She talked until we all were shocked,
And talked and talked and talked am
talked!
She had a lover, and he told >
The story that is never old,
While she her father’s bootjack worked
A lovely green and gold.
She switched off on Theocritus;
And talked about Democritus;
While she his ardent passion balked,
And talked and talked and talked anq
talked!
He begged her to become his own -
She talked of ether and ozone,
And painted yellow poodles on
Her brother’s razor hone;
Then talked of Noah and Nebuchadnezzar,
And Timon and Tiglath-pileser—
While he at her heart portals knocked,
She talked and talked and talked and
talked 1
He bent in love’s tempestuous gale, — I
She talked of strata and of shale,
And worked magnetic poppies on
Her mother’s water pail;
And while he talked of passion’s power,
She amplified on Schopenhauer—
A pistol flashed; he’s dead; unshoeked,
She talked and talked and talked and 1
talked!
— S. W. Foss, in Yankee Blade.
HUMOR OF THE HAY.
The finest parlor suite—A pretty girl.
An accurate weather report—The thun¬
der clap.
Would it be proper to speak of a hen¬
nery as an egg plant?”
It is said that mermaids tie up their
hair with a marine band.
There is danger in crossing the equator. 1
The equator might get mad.
Domestic skeletons are usually formed
of the bones of contention-- Boston
Courier.
It is very natural for an officer to be a
little peppery when he musters his men.,
—Baltimore American.
The Ichthyosaurus lived of yore
In the region of Timbuetoo,
When the water was H2S04
And the air was C02.
— Munsey’s Weekly ,
Smart Aleck—“See here,boy! Where
did you catch that big string of of fish?”
Small Boy— “I ketched all these by ;
their gills.”
Two lovers at parting.—He—“Shall
you remain true to me, my love, till I re¬
turn?” She—“Yes; but come back
soon !”—II Carlino.
Magistrate—‘ ‘I hear you are a pauper.”
prisoner (proudly)—“No, sir, I am not.;
I have three cents in my pocket and a
postage stamp.”— Epoch.
If you wish for mournful numbers
Drop In a gloomy early epitaph, spring
some cucumbers
In the guileless phonograph.
—Philadelphia Press.
A success.—Tim—“What do you think
of my little boy, Tagg?” Tagg (who has
heard the little boy’s voice)—“Oh, I
think he’s a roaring success .”—Yankee
Blade.
The Salesroom Model— 1 ‘Why shouldn’t
I be paid more money than you? Mys
position is the showiest!” The Fitting*- 1
room Model—“Yes, but mine is the most
trying.”
The best of reasons.— Balkley—“What’s
the matter, deah boy? Why don’t yon
sit down?” Calkley—Cawn’t, you know..
Got on a standing collah .”—Clothier and
Furnisher. «
“Talk of the scarcity of husbands!”:
exclaimed Miss Longuate, throwing down:
the paper in vexation: “I rather think
the real trouble is the scarcity of single
gentlemen.”
has Dude—“Why is It that every clown:
such a stupid face? Is he obliged to
look stupid?” Clown—“Certainly. If 1
had your face my salary would be doubled
at once .”—Texas Siftings.
Friend—“I see you have a broad band
of crape on your hat. For whom do you
wear it?” Mr. Shabby Genteel—“On
account of the mournful condition of
the hat itself .”—Texas Siftings.
“Make way here, gentlemen,” said tha
officious policeman, clubbing the crowd
right and left. “We’ve got to have mors'
room. There’s an Englishman coming
noth a pair of new trousers on.”— Chicago
Tribune.
Had Had All He Wanted (solicitously)!'
—“Grindstone, stop a moment. That’s
a fearful cold you have. Are you taking
anything for it?” (Hurrying on)—“Not 1
in the shape of advice, ICiljordan.”—
Chicago Tribune.
Robbie brought home a mud turtle the*
other day, and his father jokingly told
him that he could make some turtle soup.,
“What, boil him withtheshellon?”aske«3l
Robbie. “How could the corpse get
out ?”—Somerville Journal.
Rich Youth (to farmer)—“I love your?
daughter and with your consent wiM
marry her December 1st.” Farmer— “AlH
right, my boy, she’s your’n.” (Later tqf
help)—“Tie up the bull-dog, Johnnie,;
and have a tender steak for dinner.”—*
Epoch.