Newspaper Page Text
mvm journal.
KNOXVILLE, GEORGIA.
It has been calculated that the rail¬
roads of the world are worth nearly
$300,000,000,000.
The Louisiana lottery has offered to
assume the State debt of $12,000,000
for an extension of its license for fifty
years.
_
The balance of trade against Canada
during the last fiscal year was $17,000,
000, 88,000,000 tta ,0,
previous year.
The New York Sun is startled at dis¬
covering that the internal revenue of the
United States is increasing more rapidly
than the customs revenue.
The Massachusetts Legislature has
done well, thinks the New York Com¬
mercial Advertiser, in making it a penal
offence to dock the tails of horses.
The startling and highly important in¬
formation that the Shah of Persia has
taken to wearing a silk hat instead of a
jeweled , ,, turban . has recently , been , cabled ,, .
from Europ e to America.
Before the recent Presbyterian General
Assembly in New York the Rev. L. L.
Coffin said that 2700 brakemen were
killed and 20,000 injured every year on
the railroads of this country.
The Alaskan seal fisheries must he
protected, declares the New Orleans
Times-Bemocrat, or they will be totally
destroyed within a few brief years, and
thus a great and unique industry anni¬
hilated.
Dogs are to be enrolled and trained in
the British Army. They are to act as
auxiliary sentinels, as scouts on the
march, as despatch carriers, as searchers
for the wounded and as auxiliary ammuni¬
tion carriers.
The New Haven (Conn.) Register will
give $100 for a properly authenticated
case wherein the cucumber ever did any¬
one harm. “The vegetable has been
shamefully maligned and insulted,” this
champion claims.
“If some museum man wants a chamber
of horrors,” says the Minneapolis Tribune ,
“why doesn’t he hire Chicago?” Or if
he wants a deserted village, retorts the
Chicago Times, why doesn’t he make a
date with Minneapolis?
President Carnot, of France, is very
fond of Americans, and is cultivating
sedulously the society of our countrymen
now in Paris. At his receptions more
Americans are to be found than in any
drawing-room in Europe.
Various bodies have petitioned the
Pennsylvania Legislature for so many
legal holidays that, according to the
Detroit Free Press, each day in the week,
including Sunday, would have been a
holiday had the petitions been granted.
Dr. Rosenberg, a New York chiropo¬
dist,tells the Epoch of a little patient that
he was called upon to treat. It is a year
and a half old and has three corns and
two in-growing nails, although it has
never walked. By the aid of cocaine the
operation on its tiny feet was rendered
painless.
■ Illinois has a new compulsory educa¬
tion law under which children between
the ages of seven and fourteen years arc
compelled to attend school at least six¬
teen weeks a year, and attendance on any
private day school teaching reading,
writing, arithmetic and United States
history in the English language, which is
approved by the Board of Education, will
be accepted as in compliance with the
iaw.
“During the last sixteen months, ” says
the correspondent of the London Times
at Cairo, “only four slaves were imported
into Egypt, and there have been only
two cases of dealing between private per¬
sons. The slave trade may be reckoned
as extinct in Egypt. The number of
slaves in the possession of private fami¬
lies is decreasing rapidly, thanks to the
Slaves’ Home, which is a most effectual
method of doing away with this class of
slavery.”
_
Work is at last to be begun in earnest
on the Nicaraugua Canal, a large force of
civil engineers having left New York for
the Isthmus. It may be that operations
were delayed owing to the belief that the
uncompleted works of the Lesseps Com¬
pany might be bought cheaply enough to
make it better worth while to finish the
Panama waterway than to construct a
wholly new one ih Nicaraugua. But if
such a plan was at one time entertained,
it now seems to have been given up.
Probably the Panama bondholders and
shareholders could not be induced to sell
their interests for the very moderate sum
at which they would now be valued.
TWO SONGS.
i.
' So sweet, so sweet, she sang. Is lovo,
Lifting the cup to lips that laughed,
Drinking the deep enchantment off,
Fire, spice, and honey in the draught, .
n.
So sad, so sad, she sighed, is love,
Bitter the lees, and black the art
That from the deep enchantment wrings
A spell to break a woman’s heart!
—Harriet P. Spofford, in Harper.
FOUND AT DRURY'S BLUFF.
BY PHILIP JARVIS.
“Phil, my boy, wish me good luck!
I’m going to ask Mildred Graves to marry
‘be before I go. ’
who'^S”,Kj”ia1o“S
The one woman whom I had loved from
my boyhood’s days! All the savage in
my nature was aroused into fury at the
thought that he dared to aspire to what
was mine, by the right of long years de¬
votion. I could have throttled him as he
stood there—so handsome and debonair
—so self-reliant and confident of success.
Yet what claims had I upon her affec
tions? The hot blood grew cold; my
fierce wrath died out. How could I be
sure she might not love him best? Was
he not finer-looking, more agreeable than
I, a man in every respect better calculated
to win a girl’s fancy?
Mildred and I had been friends from
our school days, the most intimate friends;
and on my part that friendship had grown
into a part of life itself. I had no hopes,
no ambitions, which had not her happi¬
ness for their object. Yet no word or
token of love had passed between us. I
was shy and reticent on this one subject
that lay so near my heart. I shrank from
declaring myself her lover, doubtless feel¬
ing that if she could not return my love,
I should destroy forever our friendly re¬
lations.
So matters stood between us, when she
was twenty, and I twenty-one, in the fall
of ’60 when Carl Maxam came to our
village. He and I were associated in
business and soon became friends, as
friendly intimacy goes between men. He
was five years my senior, and had read
and traveled much, and had acquired the
ease and polish of a man of the world,
while I was shy and reticent in society.
I felt he had every advantage in his favor,
in his intercourse with Mildred, but until
to-day I had never had a jealous feeling.
In the spring of ’61, came the fall of
Sumter, and the declaration of war.
We both enlisted, though in different
regiments, and were ready to leave for
Washington. We had returned to our
homes for the final leave takings with
friends, I in my plain suit with only a
Sergeant’s chevrons on my sleeve, he in
the gilt and epaulettes of a Lieutenant,,
looking handsomer than ever in his fine
uniform.
On the morrow we were to rejoin our
regiments, and on this last afternoon had
met for a final friendly chat. We had
talked on other matters of mutual interest
and at the last moment, as we stood at
the gate, he had said:
‘ ‘And now comes the toughest part of
it. I’m going to ask Mildred Graves to
marry me before I go. Phil, my boy,
wish me good luck, can’t you?”
Filled with surprise and anger I could
make no reply; but it passed unnoticed
as he went on without looking at me.
“I have been half in love with her ever
since I first met her, and long ago de¬
cided she should be my wife if I ever got
ready to marry, that is, of course,” with
a don’t nervous laugh, “if she’d have me. I
know, she always seemed to like
me, and I fancy I’ve the inside track
there; at all events I’m going to make
sure; I’m not going off for a year or two and
leave her for some other fellow to win.
If sheil promise to marry me, I can trust
her to wait my return, if it were ever so
long.”
At that moment, to my great relief,the
Captain of his company drove by and
stopped to take Carl in.
“Well, good-by, old fellow, hope to
see you later,” and with a wave of his
hand he was gone.
“He shall never have her,” I said
savagely to myself, as he was driving
away; “at least, I will know first if there
is any chance for me,” and I hurried off
to Mildred’s home.
But when once in her presence—fool
that I was—I talked of everything else,
past, present and future, all save the one
subject that lay nearest my heart; my
tongue seemed tied whenever I ap¬
proached that.
A half-hour passed, other visitors
came and I rose to leave. Mildred fol¬
lowed me to the gate.
“I shall miss-you so much,” she said,
as she held out her hand at parting.
There were tears in her eyes, and a tremor
in her voice. My heart leaped; surely
she must love me a little, and the words
I had tried so hard to utter came to my
ips; but she added: “you have always
been a brother to me,” and I felt as if a
cup of cold water had been dashed in my
face.
Ah! yes, a brother! she had never
thought of me as a lover; could I declare
myself one and lose all this friendly re¬
gard? I hesitated—others joined us,
and the opportunity to speak was lost
forever. I said “good-by,” and went
home, inwardly raging at my own stu¬
pidity.
•‘But perhaps it is better so,” I
thought at last; “she would remember
me as a friend, love me as such, which
as a rejected lover, she could never
do.”
Then I thought of all her kindness
during the long years of our intimate
friendship; might it not be possible that
underneath all this sisterly regard there
might lie the germs of a deeper love?
And could I not awaken it to life by long
and careful wooing? I would be so pa¬
tient if there was only one spark of hope
that she would ever love me. I would,
like Jacob of old, serve seven years, oh,
so willingly, could I but win her. Was
I not a coward, after all, to yield my own
chance of success to another, by not put¬
ting my fate to the test?
Under the influence of this feeling I
dashed off an ardent, impulsive letter.
All the lcve I could never speak, found
expression now.
“Can you not, dearest Millie,” I con¬
cluded, “find down deep in your heart,
underneath all this sisterly regard you
have given me, one spark of somethiug
dearer, sweeter than a sister’s love? Will
you not give me just one word of hope
that, in time, you may learn to love me
better than a brother or friend?”
I sent the letter by a sure messenger,
and waited impatiently for a reply. N ow
it was done, and I had risked all on one
throw of the dice, I felt all the gambler’s
unrest. My blood was alternately at fever
heat or ice cold. The moments seemed
hours. Hopes and fears alternately held
sway, until I could scarcely endure the
suspense. At last the answer came. Hur¬
rying to my room, I tore open the enve¬
lope. There in Millie’s handwriting, I
had learned to love so well were the
words: “Dear Friend;" a cold hand
seemed to clutch my heart as I read:
“Your letter was a great surprise to me.
I have always regarded you as a friend,
and as such, you will ever have my high¬
est esteem, but my love has long been
given to another. Forgive me if I give
you pain by this avowal, and I pray God
may bless and keep you, in the danger
into which you are going. Sincerely your
friend, Mildred Graves.”
The letter fell from my hands, my head
dropped upon the table beside me. The
worst had come! All the hopes and fears,
the sweet dreams of a lifetime were over.
Carl had won her, and I had lost all that
made life endurable.
The memory of every hour of sweet
companionship—every gracious smile she
had ever .given me—every kindly word,
came back with redoubled sweetness,now
that she was lost to me forever. Through
all the years of youth and manhood, she
had been interwoven with every hope
and plan; it seemed like giving up life
itself to lose her. But it was over now,
over forever! If I met her again it must
be as the betrothed, or the wife of an¬
other.
Could I live and bear that! Thank
God, I could go away in a few hours,
and perhaps death on the battlefield
would end all this dreary heartlone
liness.
On the morrow I rejoined my regiment,
and within twenty-four hours we were
marched to the front. -
In the change from home >to the stir¬
ring scenes of army life I tried to forget;
but by the camp-fire, on lonely picket
duty, or in the rush and roar of battle,
thoughts of Mildred would intrude.
I shrank from no exposure, feared no
danger. Men called me brave; I was
simply reckless. I had no dread of death;
why should I have? Life had lost all
Months rolled away, one, two, nearly
three years passed. I never heard from
Mildred, except an occasional word in my
mother’s letters. She was still un¬
married. I did not wonder at this for I
knew Carl was in the army, and fre¬
quently near me. But I never sought
him, even when our regiments were side
by side. I no longer felt hatred toward
him—I could not do that, if Mildred
loved him; but I had not reached a point
where I could meet him calmly, and I
preferred not to see him at all; and,
strange as it seemed to me at times, he
never sought me.
Step by step I advanced in rank, until,
when the battle of Drury’s Bluff was
fought, I held a Captain’s commission.
All night we had lain on our arms,and
with the first gray dawn the enemy were
upon us. Our regiment was in the thick¬
est of the fight.
Again and again the Confederates
hurled their forces against us and were
met by the fiercest resistance of our men.
Charge succeeded charge, volley returned
volley, repulse followed repulse; back¬
ward and forward surged the huge col¬
umns of men; broken, rallying, retreat¬
ing, advancing, cheering for victory one
moment, and beaten back by the foe the
next.
The dead, the wounded, the dying lay
in heaps. The wheels of the guns could
not be moved until the windrows of dead
were removed. There were few wounded,
nearly all were killed outright. Carefully
we removed those few and bore them to
the hospital tent in the rear. I was di¬
recting my men in the work, when sud¬
denly from among the piles of dead, a
face was upturned, a face I knew only
too well. Carl Maxam and I had met at
last.
He was horribly mangled, and I saw
could only live a few moments unless the
flow of blood was checked. For an in¬
stant the thought flashed across my brain,
“If he died Millie would be free,!” But
I crushed back the traitorous thought,
and hastily improvising torniquets I
stopped the bleeding arteries as best I
could, and, .with the help of one of my
men, bore him to the hospital tent.
He opened his eyes as we laid him
down. One glance and I knew I was
recognized. He raised his hand feebly,
and tried to reach his breast pocket.
“A package—my pocket!” he gasped.
I slipped my hand into an inside
pocket and drew forth a small
package, carefully enclosed.
“Mildred,” he said, with great effort,
at me wistfully, and vainly try¬
ing to say more. His lips moved for a
but no sound came from them;
the jaws relaxed, an ashen pallor
over his face, and with a few short
he was dead.
I placed the package in my breast
pocket, and just at that moment the call
sounded to re-form in line of battle, and
we were hurried away to another part of
the field . In half an hour we were again
in the thickest of the fight.
At the first charge a ball passed
through my leg, and the battle of Dru¬
ry’s Bluff was over for me, and the war,
also, it proved, for after several weeks in
the hospstal I was discharged from the
service and returned home.
All this time I had carefully kept the
package Carl had given me. I had a
morbid desire to give it to Mildred in
person, and waited my return home, which
I knew from the first must soon come.
The day after my return I lay on the
larg^, of old fashioned father’s lounge house in the living
roo mi ray when Mildred
came to me. Wan and wasted with
fering, with one leg gone, I was scarcely
more than the wreck of my former selS.
She had changed almost as much as I;
all the girlish freshness and bloom had
faded, and the grave, quiet manner
seemed more befitting a woman of fifty
than a girl of twenty-three; yet to me
she seemed dearer and sweeter than ever.
“I am so glad to see you home once
more’!” she said, as she grasped my out¬
stretched hand.
There were tears in her eyes, and hei
voice trembled.
How good it seemed to look into hei
face to hear the sound of her voice, and
feel the pressure other hand once more!
Could she—could she care for me, now
Carl was dead! I found myself so eager,
even now, for her love, that I would b<
only too thankful for even a small part sh<
had given him.
But Carl’s letter must be delivered first,
thought it might be the means of separat¬
ing u3 still more widely.
After a few mutual inquiries and re¬
plies, I drew the package from my pocket,
“I found Carl on the battle field oi
Drury’s Bluff, and he gave me this foi
you as he was dying,” I said, holding il
out to her, and immediately turning
away my head that I might not see hei
emotion.
“For me?” she said in tones of sur¬
prise. “I don’t understand.”
“It probably explains itself,” I said,
wondering why she should think it strange
that Carl should send a dying message to
her.
I heard the rustle of paper as she un¬
did the package, and in another instant,
with a strange cry, she dropped on hei
knees beside the lounge.
she “OPhilip, Philip! what does it mean?” |
said, her face as white as the lettei
she held out to me with trembling hands.
I took it, and the first line brought me ;
to a sitting position, with an astonish- j
meat great as her own. I read in her
handwriting the words:
“Dear Phil: There is no need that you
should teach me to love you. I learned that
lesson long ago. You have been dearest of
all in the world to me since our childhood’s
days. Come to me at eight this evening and
you will find, Your own love, Millie.”
Faint and giddy with the surging tide
of emotions that swept over me, I caught
both her hands in mine.
“You wrote that, Millie, wrote it to
me?” I said, scarcely believing such good
news true.
“I wrote it in answer to your letter the
day you went away; and you never came
—I heard nothing from you until I knew
you were gone next day. I could not
understand it.”
“But I received an answer,” I said in
bewilderment; ‘ ‘you wrote you had nevei
thought of me except as a friend—that
“Oh, no, no! I wrote that to Carl in
answer to one I received from him at al¬
most the same time as yours. And
I must have enclosed them in the wrong
envelopes. O Philip, to think of all
these years of sorrow to us both, for such
a stupid mistake! How can you ever for¬
give me?”
“There is nothing to forgive, if you
onjy love me now,” I said eagerly.
“I never loved any one else, I nevei
could; you seemed a part of my life, and
I’ve been so wretched, so very wretched!
It’s like heaven itself to have you back
once more!”
“Oh, thank God! thank God!” was
all I could say as I caught her in my arms.
Oh, the delirious joy of the moment, af¬
ter all those years of sorrow, to know shs
loved me, had always loved me; could
heaven hold any rapture to equal this?
All the wretchedness of the past seemed
to vanish as a dream, in the glad joy ol
the present. Then, suddenly there came
a reaction of feeling. What was I now!
Broken in health, crippled, helpless!
What woman would take such a wreck ol
manhood as I?
“O Millie, darling!” I said, despair¬
ingly, “ I’ve loved you, God only knows
how well, but, I’m only a wreck at best;
I cannot ask you to marry me now.”
“You need not ask me at all,” she said
archly, between smiles and tears, “1
shall take you anyway. O Phil, you can¬
not think I love you less for this? So
long as there is enough of the body left
to hold the heart of my dear old Philip
you’ll be just the same to me. No, not
the same, but a hundred fold dearer foi
all you have suffered. You will be strong
and well soon, dear, and your lost let i«
an honor, not a blemish.”
Was not this the acme of all earthlj
joy! Shall I shame my manhood when 1
say the tears were running down my face,
as I caught the dear girl to my heart, and
thanked God for such a treasure.
After our emotions had calmed down
somewhat, we examined the package more
closely, and found a letter from Carl tell¬
ing how he had received the note in an¬
swer to his letter, that he had rightly con¬
jectured that in her agitation, Millie had
misdirected the envelopes, that his must
have been a rejection and had been sent
me. In his chagrin and disappointment
that I had been preferred to him, he had
kept the note, hoping that the one sent
me might have no name in it, and thinking
I had been rejected I would leave without
an explanation. Then followed an ac¬
count of the upbraidings o£ conscience,
the strivings of his better nature, until
he had written this explanation to give
me, in case of our meeting or of his
death.
“I have been a coward and a villain,”
he wrote in conclusion, “not to have re
turhed the note long ago. I cannot hope
for your forgiveness.”
But in the supreme happiness of our re¬
union we could find no room in our hearts
for enmity toward the dead, even though
he had wronged us so bitterly.— Yankee
Blade.
Vegetable Twins.
A pair of vegetable Siamese twins have
been discovered in a forest some three
miles from Weathersfield, Windsor Coun¬
ty, Vermont. Two birch trees standing
about four feet apart are united by a cross
branch which seems to belong to both,
and on being whittled in the middle
trickled down sap drawn from either side,
as could be seen by removing a narrow
strip of bark along a line running from
both trees toward the center of the con
link.
NEWS AND NOTES FOR WOMEN.
Green gloves are in vogue in Paris.
Soft silk is most used for tea gowns.
White petticoats are passe for street
wear.
Forty-nine girls graduated from Vassar
this year,
Braid leads as the most fashionable
trimming.
Colorado is said to have 1000 women
stock growers.
Only 2000 women voted at the Detroit
school election.
Bengaline dresses are in favor for after¬
noon receptions.
The Queen of England makes her own
tea when traveling.
Black and colored tulle bonnets are
made for midsummer wear.
Maids of honor at weddings carry
baskets of lilies of the valley.
Big classic loopes, styled “creole-ear¬
rings,” are all the rage in Paris.
Many New York ladies undergo a
special diet to make them stout.
Very large ladies should wear plain
fabrics without figures or stripes. .
Bonnets for youthful matrons have
strings that come from the back.
Silver lorgnettes are a shade more ele¬
gant than those of the tortoise shell.
The loose, flowing sleeves of evening
gowns are edged with chenille fringe.
A Louisville couple have just been
married after a courtship of fifty years.
The princess gown, either short oi
trained,is the robe of the day in Paris.
“Witch stitch” is tne newest craze oi
creweban d-silk-floss „ young woman.
Mrs - Garfield’s total estate amounts to
about $460,000 in money well invested.
Round waist and belts are gradually
displacing pointed bodices and basques.
In trimming dresses, wraps and bon
nets, both wide and narrow braids are
used.
The most stylish of the new silk gowns
are made up in two shades of the same
color,
A woman weighing 304 pounds lives
in Buffalo, N. Y. She is a very heavy
sleeper.
The per cent, of insanity among farm
er *’ wires is greater than among any
°“ ier class.
Simplicity and quaintness are the
marks of style upon your thin midsum
mer gowns.
A girl in Dorr, Mich., raised 350 bush¬
els of onions this year and traded them
for an organ.
Whole tea sets of silver are again good
form, and those fluted all over are espe¬
English worsted in light cool gray will
be largely worn for summer business and
morning suits.
Umbrellas of more than all the colors
of the rainbow are among the threats of
the near future.
A fashionable bootmaker of Chicago
says the average outfit of a fashionable
bride costs $100.
Two hundred and seventy-five ladies
are clergymen in the United States and
occupy pulpits as such.
The most fashionable long wraps are
the Connemara cloak, the long pelisse,
and the bonne femme mantle.
Mrs. Tanner, wife of Corporal Tanner,
Commissioner of Pensions, is an enthusi¬
ast on the subject of woman suffrage.
A housewife at Gridley, Cal., while
dressing a chicken for dinner, found in
its crop a diamond, which was sold foi
$185.
The rich schools of Baltimore have
abolished public commencement exercises,
and the sweet girl graduates are in the
dumps.
A weeping woman will never do any¬
thing desperate, but when she is in
trouble and keeps her eyes dry, look out
for an explosion.
The Directoire coat, as now worn by
Parisiennes, is said to be a copy of that
pictured on Charles Surface in “The
School for Scandal.”
It has been decided in Russia that
women may be physicians; but they must
confine their services to children and
adults of their own sex.
The Utah women are organizing to re¬
gain the suffrage which they had for
eighteen years, and which they were de¬
prived of by the Edmunds law.
The remarkably pleasing patterns which
adorn the cashmere shawls from the foot
of the Himalaya Mountains are copied
from the leaves of the begonia.
Four hundred Silesian lacemakers have
been at work for five weeks on a magnifi¬
cent veil for the sister of the German
Empress, who is about to marry Prince
Leopold of Prussia.
The new sashes are very long, very
wide, very elegant and very expensive.
Five yards is often used when the wearei
is tall and elects for a Louis Quinze sash,
the ends of which reach quite to the foot
of the skirt.
Mrs. Welsh, mother of Mrs. Thomas
Wanamaker, is of Philadelphia’s bluest
blood, and is said to be greatly pitied by
her circle, because of the financial straits
that have induced her to “keep house for
John Wanamaker.”
“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.”
A new light-weight all-wool summer
fabric is called Austrian cashmere. It is
beautifully soft and fine, fitting and drap
ing with peculiarly graceful effect. This
material is used very largely in place of
silk-warp Henrietta cloth.
Onion parties are fashionable in Ne¬
braska. Six girls stand in a row, while
one bites a small chunk out of an onion,
and a young man pays ton cents for a
guess as to which one it was. If he
guesses right he kisses the other five, but
if he doesn’t he is only allowed to kiss
the one with the onion-scented breath. '■
LOVE ROMANTIC. YET MOSTPTRUHli
Three men, who were good and great*
Favored by fortune and fate,
Loved one woman;*'but die
Loved none of the three.
They were friends and they ioved each
As friend loves friend, or brother brother;
But no one ever spoke
The name his heart awoke.
The first his love to the woman told,
In passion’s words, by hope made bold.;
“Better than fame or wealth,
More than life itself,
I love you, I love you!” he said,
She listened, but she shook her head,
And answered, low and true;
“I love not; love not you."
The second said: “I love you well,
More than through life my lips can tel],,
Living, I’ll love but you, I i
In death to you be true.”
Why, she did not understand,
But she laid in his her hand;
And throughout all her life
She lived his faithful wife.
Of his love for her, the third
Spoke never a single word;
Yet was his love’s degree
The highest of the three?
fie watched her life and saw her die,
But his heart never voiced a cry.
Somehow, when her life was past,
He knew she was his at last.
—Gertrude Garrison, in Dress
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
A rash intruder—Measles.
Not a religious stick—The post chap¬
lain.
Well-made men—The oleo-million
aires.
“Bound for Europe”—The tourists’
guide.
When a man is “taken in” he is usually
“put out.”
Silence is golden, but it doesn’t make
a mute rich.
Dressed beef should be dressed as cool
as possible this weather .—New Orleans
Picayune.
There is nothing in the language o8
flowers so eloquent as a pair of pressed!
tulips .—New York Herald.
It may be of some consequence
To some one if we say,
The man has certainly horse sense
Who knows when to say neigh I
Customer—“May I use your tele
phone?” Merchant—“Very sorry, bu<(
we do not handle holloware .”—Omaha
World.
Mealtime Caller—“When do you
dine?” Precocious Little Daughter—
“We always have to wait till callers go.
I’m getting awful hungry.” ,
Says a New York paragrapher: “A*
majority of our rich men are not educated
men.” This will also read just as truly
the other way .—Rome Sentinel.
front Paterfamilias—“Clara, I see that the
gate is down this morning. ” Clara
(shyly)—“Yes, papa, you know love
levels all things. ”—Burlington Free Press.
The girl who knows no worldly cares,
And whose papa is wealthy,
Her declining years most often finds ■
When she is young and healthy.
-Life. 1
“How is it you have so few deaths on
your hands, doctor?”* “That’s easy
enough. When I find I have a bad case
I order the patient to take atrip abroad.”
Judge. ;
—
Husband (on his wedding tour)—“I
want rooms for myself and wife.” Hotel;
Clerk—“Suite?” Husband—“Of course
she is—perfectly lovely. The sweetest girl
in the world.”
Bashful Young Man—“Ahem—Sally—
ahem. ” Sally—(encouragingly)—‘ ‘Well,
George?” “Sally, do, you suppose your
ma would be willing to be my mother-in
law ?”—Boston Gazette.
The interest with which a young
man watches the growth of hair on his'
upper lip is only equaled by that with
which the man of forty watches its disap
pearance from the top of his head .—New
York Herald. 1
First Omahan—“Going to have any.
plumbing done this spring?” Second
Omahan—“Did think I’d have a pipe re¬
soldered, but changed my mind and will
buy a farm with the money, instead.”-—
Omaha World.
Guest—“I wish I had come here aj
week ago.” Hotel Proprietor—“Ah,j
that’s very flattering to my establishment.*?,
Guest—“I don’t know about that. What
I mean is that I should have preferred toi
cat this fish then instead of now.” »
Young Husband—“What? You are
twenty-five years old to-day? Why, you
told me a year ago, just before the wed¬
ding, that you were only twenty.” Young
Wife (wearily)—“I have aged rapidljs
since I married .”—Yankee Blade.
I am lying, Egypt, lying in my own peculiar
I acquired’the day habit lately, but I do it evens j
Every repair morning to the river with my tackle.'!
To beguile the speckled troutlet from
In the deep, pellucid lair;
victim’s evening, size. on returning, I describe mja (
And I am roaming, Egypt, roaming in aI
wilderness of lies.
—Nebraska State Journal I
The City Dog Catcher. I
The humble office of the meek and
lowly dog catcher is an industry not ta
be despised from a pecuniary standpoint.'
The City Marshal, who is the official
head of this branch of commerce, re-!
ceives $4000 a year in salary for doing
practically nothing. His allowance of
deputies and office expenses is ample. 1 *
The dog pound revenue is one of the!
political secrets, but it . is estimated bji
those who have been in the confidence on
the sents Administration dogs caught as and $7000. That repre-i 8kj
killed in
Louis, and costs in case animals alleged^ are:
claimed. Then there is another
source of revenue, the value of whicl*
nobody but the incumbent knows, and
that js the price annually received for dog
carcasses from the East St. Loins Govern¬
ment. It is said that every day a wagon*
load of dead dogs, that have just suffered
the sulphuretting process at the St. LpuiS
dog pound, goes across the bridge,, and
is there redeemed at the price of twenty
five cents per head.— St. Louis tilar-Sam
ings.