The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, June 11, 1884, Image 1
. : ? ? - -v ? ?
* . WINNSBORO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUNE . 11, 1884. J 'fgji
. . ? .1?. ' iiii.i '
L Replying to Her Critics.
If I should die, how kind you all would grow;
In that stranjre hour I would not have a foe.
There are no words too beautiful to say
Of one who goes 1'ore verm ore away
Across that ebbing tide which has to Sow,
?
Ah, friends! before my listening car lies low;
"While I can bear and understand, bestow
That gentle treatment and fond love, I
b The luster of whose lato though radiant
B r Would gild my grave with mocking light I
S5E?% If I should die.
sHMP ?Ella Wheeler.
r ?
^ "A Bottle." J
m In a cabin iocfcrr f or man.-a year
' A bottle lay:
And whether the weather * rae fair or clear,
Or whether the ocean was rough and gray.
The bottle had nothing to care or fear;
Yet the ship was an iror oaken mass,
And the other was n >thing but brittio
glass?
A bottle.
XVbarn, t.h? billows rose hiffhe^t. the St Of 21
kins: ficw
Over the soa;
And the -waters foamed and the wild winds
blew.
While the mad waves tossed in a whirling
glee.
And all that was left of a ship and crew
Came, bringing' its message with silent lips
Of the peril of those who go down in ships? ,
A bottle.
o, ?Ernest McGoHej.
LUCY'S FOE.
: Down on the Jersey shore, in a little j
brown house with "unpointed floors, i
lived Lucy Gray, the flower of the fish- !
^ ing Tillage of Saltfish?the toast^ of
every fisher-lad between Jersey Uity
and Cape May. '
Lucy was a" delicate little thing, with
a wild-roso color, golden hair, and
tdeep, dark eyes, that had a trick of
drooping shyly beneath their lon^
lashes whenever young Mr. Thornhill
rode by the cottage on his thoroughbred
horse, and bowed low to her as j
she sat by the open window at her sew- !
ing; and Mr. Thornhill's bay horse j
seemed to turn that way so naturally, j
that Lucy's father at last took the
alarm.
They wero "Friends"?quiet, wellBk
meaning people, who, if not rich, had j
W at least been respectable all their
days.
j And George Thomhill was "of the !
world's peoplo"?his life was one long !
holiday of pleasure; his great marble 1
house on the hill was a very temple of
luxury, over which his only, sister
reigned as mistress, though only at his
p pleasure.
Friend Peter Gray, and his good i
wife, Lucy, siioos tneir neaas over i
their youn^ landlord's evident admira- 1
tion of their one ewo lamb. And be- I
tween them, in solemn council, it was j
arranged thai, Peter should speak to j
k him civilly but seriously, the very next ;
time that lie passed by.
The same evening, as the old folks sat j
by the kitchen fire, which the cold sea- j
breeze rendered needful, summer j
though it was, a great surprise came to j
them.
LLucv, who had gone on an errand to i
*1 V irv florhor tUr> '
rwiiC JLICAu U.VU.?U> VtiuUUV> ?U) ?&*??** j
they had expected- The "Young i
Squire" (as the fishers generally called j
^ him) was with her. He led her to her j
Hk parents, bowing his handsome head
before them.
|f|^. "I lova^oar daughter dearly," he |
said, "Will you give ^her to mo for my j
' Our Lucyf* cried Peter Gray, as j
- scon as he could speak for astonish- j
W meat "Why, thee might marry the j
daughter of the President, Friend
ThornhiU, if thee liked!"
"But I don't like,1' said the young
Squire, with a smile in his deep blue
eyes. "I have never seen the girl, ex*
cept Lucy, that I could love; and she
is fond of me, though you may not
think so. Why, I have looked forward
to marrying her ever since I first saw
her sitting at yonder window, with a
cluster of apple blossoms in her hair." j
"An eternity, indeed!" said Friend j
Gray. "I waited seven years for her ;
mother, and I loved her dearer every
moment of those seven years, I think." !
K "But there is no need of such a delay
in our case," said the young Squire,
looking frightened.
"X. UVU LfUV iUiUVi. ViAV JVW*
wo cannot give our consent," said
Friend Gray consulting his wife by a
. look- "At the end of a year thee may
It take her, Friend Thornhill?not before."
In vain the young Squire fumed and
W fretted- The quiet Quaker was "set in
P his way," and Lucyr knowing the great
concession that he had already made,
dared not plead for more. For it had
. been the dream and hope of her par
I ents to see her the wife of some steady
young Friend, who would dwell with
^ her on a small farm near their own.
? Such a young Friend indeed existed.
W who would willingly have carried out
his own part of that peaceful programme;
but Lucy, who had always
Been so gentle to Charles Deane before
her own beart was touched, had scarce
ly a civil word to offer him during the
lonor year of her conditional betrothal
to the young Squire.
Yet Charles Deane came to the brown
cottage all the same, talking chiefly to
. her parents during his visits, but castP
ing long, sad looks at'Lucy that it
f ~ " tried her patience terribly to ignore.
That summer dragged on wearily
r enough for Lucy Gray. Throughout
fe each week there was only the week's
work to do, of mending, making washk
ing, baking, and attending to the eggs,
the fowls, and the butter.
9 ^\, At dusk on Saturday evening, the
l v whole house was in the neatest order,
ft \ and all signs of labor done away.
On the Sabbath no cooking was done
I and food was eaten cold, while the
family spent most of the day in the
bUlblHIi SliVULW UX ,
and on. the Monday there was the same
dull round for Lucy to begin again.
It was not dull to her parents. They
k enjoyed the perfect calm. They were
happy in their home, in each "other,
and in their only child, and life had
nothing better to offer them than this
ever-recurring routine of domestic and
religious duty.
But Lucy had listened from her earliest
remembrance whenever the neighbors
talked about "Thomhill Hall," as
most of them called the great house on
t lic J-LLLL.
Sp She Iiad never entered its doors, yet
she understood perfectly how differentn&
ly existence went on there. She knew ,
|HH all about the magnificent carpets and !
gpL furniture, the curtains over the <rreat
bay windows sweeping to the floor,
jit velvet for the winter months, costly
III' lace lined with rose-color for the sum||L
mer."
She had heard of the marble statues, ,
the costly chandeliers, the grand circu-;
glkr staircase that went up and around
Igktho very roof, the stained-glass winon
every landing.
s Thorn Mirs imported toilettes,
low with color, mi^ht be seen by
;e who chose to oe in tho ono
lof Salttish when tho barouchecolled
slowly by.
jae the greenhouses, hot-houses,
Mag-pits, was not the hill at
K all one glitter in tho sun
j shine every day with the acres of
f "glass" over which McClcary, the
| Scotch gardener, presided?
' The poor little Friead looked sadly
! out through the summer from her drab
I colored life upon this luxury and splen:
dor, longing to share it, but only bo|
cause it all belonged to4'George.'*
! Her head and heart were fun of her
! betrothed, and she so seldom saw him
t ? - ? n attt Viwaf mnmr.nta
' ?iuv? , UJLUUJL/b iUi i? n U14W wuiuvuto
! in the presence of Lor mother, before
i whom they were both naturally tonguei
tied and abashed.
She saw how theso restraints annoyj
ed and worried him, and she did not
j wonder that he camo less often when,
i in the bright midsummer, his sister
j filled the groat house with her own
! friends?bright young belles from the
| city, before whose gay r&d fashionable
j presence Lucy shrank away timid and
i afraid.
I George Thornhill was forced to play
i tlie host to all these fair guests, he told
! her, when ho came to -esewse^feis abJ
seuce. She acquiesced; and she heard
i of the riding and driving parties, the
j sails upon the lake, and the strolls by
i moonlight, with perfect composure,
j until the gossip of the neighborhood
i assigned one of these fair belles to
j George Thorahill, and to him alone,
j Then Lucy grew jealous. She said
i nnf-.hino' hnt soft took an oDDOrtunitv
: one pleasant afternoon, of watching the
! return of the equestrians on a side road
1 leading from her house to Thorn hill
Hall. '
Yes! There they were, precisely a3
people had said. George, her own
George no longer, perhaps, was riding
at the bridle-rein of the beautiful Miss
Kate Ilford. '4'
He did not even see Lucy, as they
i passed by, though she stood gazing
| sadT.y at him under a drooping elm oy th
I wayside. But Miss Ilford, gorgeons
j Egyptian princess that she was, saw,
| and evidently recognized her rival.
Such a scornfully triumphant glance
i as she cast on her, utterly ignoring the
; pale and perfect loveliness of her face,
| but taking in each detail or ner un;
fashionable attire?lingering over it
j with that air of pitying wonder with
| which one woman knows so well how
to crush another.
! Nor was this Jill. As Lucy shrank
back under the drooping branches of.
the elms, ashamed of herself, and still
i more ashamed of her Quaker garb, a
second lady, more, proud and imperious,
but not so youEg or handsome as
i Miss Ilford, reined her horse up by the
giiiVsid<fc5? ? ?& ... .?
."You can see *or yourself, Lucy
i Grav, where my. .brother's heart is given,
she said harshly. "He loves Kate
Ilford with ajl his soul, but he is a
-rr>or> nf Unw nrw? will nfiVRY tell
v/A ..... ?- ?
her so unless you set him free. And
that," she added scornfully, "you will
never do, I suppose. You will not lose
the chance of" marrying the richest
man in the State. But I shall hate
you, always! Never will I call you
/sister,' remember that! And when
yoa enter George's home I leave it -I
will countenance no low born beggar
as my brother's wife!". ; ?
Meek as was Lucy, by nature and by
training, her cheeks flashed crimson,
W Jort mm -fir? at this
MMU UOA UUiA vjvs ? ...
taunt.
"I am no beggar. Miss Thornlull,"
she said hotly. "And if your brother
loves another, not for the world would
I bo his wife." ?_
"Tell him so," said Miss Tiiornhill
eagerly. "Write it to him this very
day, and see how gladly he will be free
from you."
"I will," said Lucy proudly.
And she went home and wrote the
letter. i
The next day she lay in a "brain
fever, and her mother, guessing the
state of the case from hor ravings, refused
to let George Thomhill see her, j
when ho rode down to the farm.
Six weeus aiierwaras, wacu
was able to 3it up by the open window
once more, her mother told her, pityingly,
of that visit from her lover.
"Where is he now?" asked Lucy,
turning white.
"Gone abroad, with his sister and
Miss Hford, and a great party of
friends. No one knows when they will \
return. The great house is closed, and i
left in care of the gardener and his
wife."
Lucy made 20 answer. She mentioned
George Thornhill no more.
As the year passed on to winter, her
Earents hoped that she had forgotten
im. But when, at Christmas they
urged her to look more kindly on
Fnend Deane, she burst into a passion
of tears that frightened them.
"Never speak again of marriage to
me," she cried. "I gave my.neartj
once for all, and it is broken now." |
Spring smiled oncc more upon the j
land, and Lucy wore no apple-blossoms
in her hair,.
Their color, their odor even, made
her heart faint withinher. -s x
But at the creat house--they were
gathered in clusters to lay upon a coffin
lid.
George Thornhill had returned, and
! with him came his sister, but no longer
living and imperious. - V
Pale and cold she looked, under the
heavy velvet pall, as they laid her
1 away in the Thornhill vault, and Lucy
Gray, after one glance at the dead face,
ent homeward, weeping bitterly.^
She had hated her, not knowing %'
while in the bloom and glory of Ufa'
she descended to the grave. i '
R-enrcrp. Thornhill had returned as he
vent, unmarried. But Miss Hford re-j
mained in Paris, the bride of a French)
nobleman.
In the evening a neighbor brought,
this piecc of news to the brown cottage..
Lucy slipped away after hearing it,
and went to the old trysting plr.ee ?o
wonder what it could mean.
George Thornhill was there beforo
her. He turned, dressed in his deep
mourning, to welcome her, gravely rut
kindly.
"Lucy, on her death-bed, my poor
all ^ kn poi/? ??T C%TT?*T
CylSilCk W1U LLLXJ rtU) - UV . OMAH* . A uv * w*
' loved Miss Ilford, as she assured you I
did. I never thought of any woman
save you as my wife. And you, 1 now
; know, did not love young Ueane, as I
I then believed when I went away and
I left you. We have both suSered, dear,
j but we must forgive her, for she is in
her grave. And can you forgive me,
j Lucy? I have been true to you, God j
I knows, all this wft.irv while."
Lucy's pale face brightened into its j
early bloom as she listened. She held 1
out her hand to her lover with a happy !
smile. And the past months of sorrow
: and parting were forgotten, as beneath j
! the stars they sealed "their new betroth- j
| a! with a kiss.
Whales were eaten by persons of
the upper classes in Europe as late, at
least, as the latter part of the thir-J
teenth century. The tail and tongue.
dressed witn peas or roaswa, wore
prized as cboicc delicacies. The Princess
Eleanor de Montfort paid, in 1266,
the stun of 24 shillings for "100 pieces
of whale," to be used as food in hear
household, ,.. j
' y-*r " .... - ? " - - . A . ' -
Oil on the Waters.
r "
A patent for oastiog oil upon the
troubled waters is certainly a novelty,
but will hardly occasion surprise in this
day and generation. The wonder will
j rather be that we have been so long in
; finding out that the Scriptural metarnoo
a K+o-rol fattt-. fmm
I n<W (? UWiM* Aktrwv -- -~
j experience. From time to time inI
stances have occurred where, ia exi
treme cases, as a sort of dernier resort,
oil has been poured out as a placating
| libation to an angry sea; and /but a
| short time ago we recorded the fact
I that an Atlantic merchantman had
| been saved from the fury of the tem!
pestuous ocean by emptying to the
* * ? -i -? -il TTL
i winawara a cargo vi sperm-cm. xuu
oil floated out and subdued the waves
I to the extent of ; giving the vessel a
i clearing free from the reach of the
booming, breaking waves. Wei veni
tured the opinion at the time that there
! might come from this successful ma|
neuv-er. a practical scheme for future
j protection. A step in this direction
' has been taken by & Mr. Shield!) of
London, who has obtained a patent on
an apparatus for oiling the ocean to
mitigate storm dangers, He has exhibited
his invention through, an exer;
rise'of its powers in English waters,
I effectually subduing the perturbations
; AAwinaee r\4 flin AhotmAl
| V/4 bUQ wruicu VMi vuv
I By this machine oil is forced throggh
j pipes under the water surface, and nsj
ing quickly seems to calm tho commoj
tion in its struggle to the top.; The
| effect was remarkable. The rough,
chopping waves _ were subdued to a
gentle, undulating motion- in which the
Efe-bOat rode lightly, while before it
'had been dancing about like a cork.
I Mr. Shields has an .!;oiI- shell" that
i may be used as a projectile, to be; stor|
ed on board ship. In an emergfcncy,
| its time fuses, made water-prooS, are
| lighted, it is flung from an ordinary
I six-inch mortar, ana sent to tne .point
: of delivery with reasonable accuracy,
j The shells hurst, and almost immedii
ately there is formed an area of undisI
turbed water described as the4'oil field' ' :
and the radius covered by a gallon.cfoil
may be approximated with thebass of
calculation that one drop will diffuse"
itself over a; square yard. Another
feature of the invention is a line of get-;
ta-percha tubing pierced at intetyafer
with valves. Tnis may be attachedly"1
! lanyard to a solid shot and laid hytfce
i discharge of the projectile. When the
; tube?and this is intended for shallow
! water?has settled, oil is pumped; into
| it from the shore or ship end, forced
; through the valves," rises to the suri
face, and produces comparative smooth.
ness on the water surfaco.
xue several experiments wcru
: factorily made, and the greatest inter!
est is felt in more extensive tests that
j will be made in ocean disturbance. If
j the results are equally decisive there,
i the perils of ocean travel will be so
j materially reduced that those remaini
ing will not be allowed to count. It
: might bo interesting ;to carry to a con!
elusion the possible advantages gained
; by a liberal use of these machines for
i a term of years. The "oil appears, to be
: an economic force, since a drop is
i equal to the surface of a square yard
j OX yrztcr. HoWIUM^
I be accessary to give me enure wusu.#
; .regressive coating, .and what would
; thowastehy absorption to be 'overi
come in maintaining the covering oncait
! was secured? This most turbulent and
; demonstrative ocean might in? a: ierm
of years bo reduced to the most, ap:
proved pacification, serviceable at ail
| seasons and under all conditions of
| travel This would particularly be .an
! equivalent to bridging the Atlantic,
uniting Europe and America by a substantial
pontoon of oil, along which thesharp-prowed
Cunarders could, moue
as gracefully and securely as a steamer .
| on the Mississippi. Mr. Shields will-in :
I all probability he knighted before he is
i many years older. :
Fairy Stories for Childrciu^^-j
In the April North American Review J
Tulian Hawthorne says;. >r:;; -4gj|i?]
If wo believed?if the great mass ??
people known as the cmlized world did j
actually and livingly believe ? that
thera was anything beyond or abeve^
the physical order of nature, our .cinir;
dreii's literature, wrongly so called,
wouldnot bewh&t it is.-We before
that we can see and touch? we teach
them to believe the same, and*.: not satisfied
with that, we sedulously warn
them not to believe anything else. The
child* let us .suppose, has heard frozn J
soma unauthorized person that there
are fairies?little-magical creatures^m.
inch high, up to all manner of delight*;
ful feats. He comprehends the whole
matter at half a word, feels that he had .
known it already, and half thinks that
he has seen one or - two on his waj^
home. He runs up to his mother and
tells her about it; and has she ever seen
..fairies? Alas! his mother tells him that i
| the existence of such a being as aiairy.|
| is impossible. In old times when the1
world was very ignorant and supersti
I tious, they U3ed to ascribe everything I
that happened to supernatural agency; j
! even the trifling.daily accidents of one's
! life,'such as turrpfling down stairs, putj
ting the right shoe on the left foot,
I were thought or fancied to be the work
! of some mysterious power; and since
ignorant people are very apt to imagine
they see "what they believe [pro;
ceeds^fcisjnofcherJjingiead of believing
what they see; ana since, furthermore,
1 ignorance disposes to exaggeration and
thus to untruth, these people ended by
asserting that they saw faines. "Now,
my child," continues the parent, "it
would grieve me to see you the victim
of such folly. Do not read fairy stories.
They are not true to life; they
fill your mind with idle notions; they
cannot form your understanding, or
i aid you to do your work in the world.
If you should happen to fall in with
' VV/\ AO rrmi fVom
OULU w ^aiCiUA C+0 J\J I* ivuu WMUUA
i to bear in mind <hat they are pure inventions?pretty,
sometimes, perhaps,
but ossentiallyiriyolous, if not immoral
You have, however, thanks to tho
enlightened writers;and- publishers, an
endless assortment of juvenile books
and periodicala-which-combine legitimate
amusement with sound and trustworthy
instruction. Here are stories
about little children just like yourself,
who talk and act just as you do, and to
whom nothing supernatural or outland
wiliAffA I
isn. ever littppcjus; auu wuwo auiw
tures, when you read them, convey to
you some salutary moral lesson. What
more can you want? Yes, very likely
'Grimm's" Tales' and 'The Arabian
Nights' may seem more attractive; but
in this world many harmful things put
on an inviting guise,* which deceives
the inexperienced eye. May my child
remember that all is not gold that glitters,.
and desire, not what is. diverting
merely, but what is useful and . . . |
and conventional!"
William N. Clark, a leading groceryman
of Rochester, has suddenly be1
AArnA VMSO i . " UA; QfOfl
wuio TiVAoxiucj uv ,
that he is tiie ori^iaal Rip Van Winkle,
addresses &s vpie as Gretchez^c^
imagines that lie has been asleep"!$T
A Chinese Newspaper.
A writer in Cassell's Family Magazine
makes the following interesting
extracts from the Peking Gazette, the
. official newspaper of the Chinese empire:
But if there are thefts, murders and
' -{ JAmArtwAMo rxr'f^nc fliarfn] oro^ll
I i 1J I nU.^LUUQMI\^1. 4v?i,4Mi vavvm
tions and the bastinado, in the celestial
empire, there is also the virtue reward
office, and its reports are frequent in
the Peking Gazette. What manner of
virtue is rewarded we shall glean from
a few oxamples. A petition with a
long list of influential names is sent up
to-the throne,: praying that a monument
be erected to immortalize the
name of Lady Ho.
Lady Ho had been married, at eighteen,
to Lu Shu-yung. When he was
; seized with his last illness, the lady,
: .'.'although occupied, every night in se-.
cretly burning incense and offering up
tearful prayer, maintained during the
?*1? AAnnfAnonAA
uaj( . a-Viitpni hu wwuubhuwi m.v
parents might not be overcome by dejection
For months she changed not
her raiments, but devoted herself sedulously
to administering to the wants of
her husband; and finally, as a last resource,
she cut from her arm a piece of
flesh to mix with the * medicine/' Bat
it was all unavailing; Ln Shu-ynnif
died- Ho fainted several times witn
grief. "But she had already resolved
not to outlive, her husband, and after
nrivatelv writing to her sister-in-law ta .
come and attend upon the two parents,
already advanced in years, she; swallowed
a gold ring, and at the age of
thirty-four thus sacrificed her life."
And we should certainly add our stone.
to her cairn but for that little business
of the ring, which, though prettily devised
and according to Chinese notions virtuously
done, sounds badly to western
ears.
Another lady, by name Wu-chang, is
to have a memorial arch erected to her i
for a similar suicidal sacrifice. He*
husband having died before one year of ,
j marriage, she was dissuaded from killhis
parents/Vf Moh duty ^e^s^ried out
~declrc^:?h&kshe^^^ hus^nd?a^Kfusii^ay^oi3d,.di6d
after :
s&vm^.dxf&czA third - Isiy;;:!^ name i
Waagi' residing at^ GhohChew, not \
only chopped herself on all occasions
in the most frightful, manner, but ap- 1
plied burning incense-sticks to her ]
arms, to provide.cures-for her rela- <
tions. Under all these overcharged ex- ;
amples -we mnsfr not be blind to the !
true national,virtue of the Chinese, (
their devotion toparents and the ladies j
who are faithful to * 'one love in a life J' <
are worthy of all honor; but it troubles '
* a - -3 ' i. i. ,7 *4
us Den.lgfl.ttJQ. westerners wj reau ui tua i
fair wee-footed creatures burning, I
starving, and cutting themselves, or <
even swallowing gold rings. The )
virtue reward office has often better i
work than this to do; fidelity, filial de- 1
votlon, the braveiy of soldiers who die 1
Tin battle, the virtue of women who sac-, i
rifico-life rather than honor?there are .1
things to be rewarded with more than i
posthumous titles and memorial 1
-arches., ft } ^ - , i
b UJ Jjne Ot ??To"St^aJ"t^c3 C ^
I remain for us" to glance torero is the let-1 ?
J ter anditribute of the king**# Bonn ah j
! to the.empcror of - Chinas who was at
i the :time, we mast not forget, however t
| patriarchal in official documents, in c
j reality a mere baby of between three 1
j. and four oddly destined to have gray- 1
j ity, ceremony and splendor, instead of i
i natural childhood- Meng-ttm, king of i
Bunnah, sends a letter written-in gold ^
to bo laid before the throne of the great i
emperor of .the-heavenly dynasty. He c
calls Mm$cH.vhis vassal, kis insispaifias
the, snniloWer^tws ^breftfie sun,
all mankind turns.'.. with adoration
towards the imperial- person; and his I
iattcE; -eadsr- .by-\ wishing lus. imperial *
majesty ^loag^Ifeiec^ten^ thousand? ?
I<?:^.-lbbwand^0tBajid years," The
Ms&ei tnfeu?fr,presee.ts which were to ?
UfeideIitCTed>feat the palace gate, in* I
'&&&?*?&&'betteript&w. ir&gold, a ?
Burmese image qf thjagod b?Joi%evity, *
immense 5
iiwr-OJtiToijftraks* tSjgk and-jewels, *
thoitsaiids' at. sheetsxj?r.gcrt&-lzs.t and t
BHver-leaf,;heapsi>? sandalwood; and,
in the sactQx-wonderful catalojne with v
1 1 1? J ?1? ??o- c
UIU fiiUU icncU) uibgyu i
cocks' tails, twenty bottles of scent and ,
pomade, several pieces, of thick, heavy ,
shirting (no doubt from Manchester), i
ami?last, not least, and decidedly use- ,
fal Jor .an emperor?twenty foreign t
carpet-bags." " " \ J
' * ^ .. .. ... *
Daniel Webster's Court Dress. - - I
g
-iMr. Webster andJodgerlhianeDoty, t
then, of Green Bay,Wis^ were warm- I
friends, and the Jadge;at dne time was f
a visitor at-Mawhfield^- Mr:: Webster -j
waa very fend of &shkig-~^the: only .out- c
door sport in.- which- -he- indulged, 'g
While the Judge was his guest it' t
chanced that a fine day for his sport i
presented itself of which Mr. W. -was- s
anxious to avail himself. He accordingly
invited the Judge to accompany i
him in this piscatory sport. '< me c
Judge didn't want to go and tried his- '.j
best to get of? saying he would much t
prefer, with his consent, to pass that c
rainy day in Mr. W.'s library, arsons -1
his books and papers. Mr. W. woulda^ t
-listen-to him; said he could pass any I
and as many days in the library as he t
chose, but such a day as that for fishing 1
mteht not occur again while they were t
at Marshfield. The Judge, as a last t
resort, said that he really could not go, i
as it would spoil his clothes, that the a
i handsome black suit he had on was his r
! best and all he had, and that to go fish- ?
I * ? ? "** amall i* Ta mflof fTllfi J!
111? III 1W VYUIUU OUWU Alt. AV UIWVU 1IUM7 v
objection Mr. W. directed his servant i
George to go up-stairs and bring down \
the dress in which ho was presented at ; t
court in England, which George did f
As soon as he appeared with it Mr. W. c
said: "There, Doty, is a dress for you; i
put it on, and come as soon as you j
can, for we are losing valuable time.'- t
The Judge replied: "Surely, Mr. I
Webster, you ace not in earnest in c
what you say?that you want md to go t
fishing in that elegant suit, and spoil \
it?" ; - c
"Yes, I am," he replied; 'that is t
what it has been brought down for." c
_The Judge still lingered, when Mr.
W., to settle the matter, said to mm: I
"Have no anxiety about injuring the
dress, for to fish and hunt in it is the
only way it can now bo made usefuL c
Could I wear it in Washington, Phila- i
delphia, New York, Boston, or even
here? If I did, wouldn't everybody 1
laugh at me?"
Tno Judge was compelled to answer
affirmatively to the question. e
"Well, then," he said, "pray what
is it good for but to go fishing in?" J
Thia settled the matter. Tno Juctee s
put on the dress and went fishing in 1
Mr. W.'s court suit, and saved hia <
own.?Harper's for April i
Newly imported scarfs for gentlemen 1
-ere^aot^aa- gaudy, and .brilliant as they |
wertf^a fact men "of refined taste wilj l,
appreciate. ? J
f
Statesmen at Whist.
I suppose the greatest whist quartet
in Wamiugton for many years was
that made up of Garfield, Frye, Randall,
and "Alec*1 Stephens. Thehouso
committee on rules, of which they wero
members, met at Long Branch in the
summer of 1878. They began playing
there, Frye and Stephens against Gar
lieid and RandalL Stephens piayea a
wonderful game. Bolstered up with
pillows in his chair he would sit by the
hour without becoming wearied. After
the first two or throo turns he had
an unfailing power of telling where
the cards were held. He hated to have
a poor partner, for it disturbed his calculations,
but with Fryo he was always
content and serene. Frye is a strong,
impulsive player. When winning, his
face beams like a child's, but once behind
and it .becomes. a serious affair.
xa?-?r xteaa uneasy ana: restless uu*u ?
fe& iucky deals pat him ahead again.
' Stephens and Frye were in excellent
contrast, for the former never apparently
took the slightest interest, save
as his eyes lighted np occasionally? at a
remarkably strong suit Garfield
never, concealed anything. His plays
Were always open. Only once did heever
try leading from a "sneak." The 1
look that met Inm from Stephens was 1
Bueh that it was never known to hap-j
pen mm. Randall, in whist, as
everywhere else, ib cold and calculating.
He does not play a scientific j
game, but a well-sustained one, and is
& safe partner. Yon can see that the j
four are pretty well balancocL But
Five and Stephens won. Frye was
fortunate and Stephens skillful. Day
after day they kept ahead. Afterward,
when the four returned to Washington,
the games were kept up, Twice a
weqjs regularly the others would go
down to Stephens1 old-fashioned parlor
at the National hotel, aud there play
exactly up to midnight . Of course,
they had varying fortune but in the
long run the first winners came out
ahead. The morning afterward the
members would always ass inem, u
they appeared at the capitol, how the
games of the night before resulted.
Every winter up to the time Garfield
was nominated for the Presidency the
four kept at it, but then it was broken
t>& with the intention of resuming after
he was once fairly seated in the
white house. But he was shot so soon
bhat the plan came to nothing. Stephens
wanted to keep on and to fill
Sarfield'e place. Harry Smith, the
journal clerk of the house, was taken.
Very soon afterward Stephens was
elected governor of Georgia, and went
ivsrav. never to come back. With his
ieparture the series dropped, he and J
Frye still ahead. Last winter several
senators, including Messrs. Hoar, Frye,
Sherman, Morrill, Warner, Miller, A1inch,
and others, made up a club and
51ayed often, but it is not continued.
tierman is one of the best players in
e senate. Ben. Harrison is reputed
x> be, but I never heard Of his playing.
Senator Bayard likes to take a hand,
afct he h3s not the book knowledge
hat some oi his brother senators
y>ast of. Bik the critical scientists on
jus.subject sre not so numerous as
feMQMtag" HHSOK "mSrnm*'
igo", "when half the members were
loted hands.
No man ever loved the game more
han old Judge Thurman. "With his
>ld red bandana on the table to dry
lis- face with, he was alternately in the
IlgUtJBb ?> Wll/C Ui. C^.U-LW?W*JJUL AUK. U.Ok>?/?U4.?
i.t times Mme. Thurman would find it
lecessary to take a seat by his side
rith her quiet "Don't grow excited,
JJlen" to keep her husband in his
:hair.?Washington Cor. Troy Times.
Yokohama, Japan.
In this commercial capital of Japan
very thing struck us as curious, every
resh step afforded increased novelty,
svery new sight was a revelation,
srhile all about us were tangible repreentat
ns of the impossible pictures of
he cheap fans, the lacquered ware of
ommerce, and the school-books. The
partial nudity of men, women and
ihildren, the extremely simple archiecture
of the dwelling-house, the vegeation,
the extraordinaiy salutations
ifttween the common ueonle who meet
ach other upon the streets, the trading
tooths of bazaars, and the queer, toyike
articles which filled them, children
lying kitesrni- the shape of hideous yelo?raohsters^each
subject/became a
rcsh;'study-. Men propelling vehicles
ikec*%0EB03. between the' siafta, and
rotting six-mile pony gait
yhSej&kwing after them one or two
lersons with ease; was at first a singular
aspect. toastrangor. So were
he naked ^coolies,- -by lours, bearing
iesvy loads-of merchandise swung
rom their shoulders upon stout bamboo
-1 o A
K7133, Wmie WVJ aiioutgu a uioaouicu
:hant by- which to keep step. No beg'ars^wcreseen
o&the-pablic streets,
he~pecplo without exception seeming
leai -and clean in their remarkably
canty " overing.;: j The
houses were special examples of
leatness-andoftoy-like size, being sel[<mt
more than twenty feetsquare. All
>ersocs, foreigoecs ornatires, took off
heir shoes before entering apon their
lelicately-lacquered or polished floors.
His we net only-did out of respect to
he universal custom of the country,
mt because one- -did- not leel like
reading upon those -floors with nailed
teols or soiled leather soles. The conviction
was forced?upon us that such
miversal neatness and . cleanliness
aust extend even to the moral charicter
of thepeople. . A spirit of gentletess,
industry and thrift was observ
ible everywhere, imparting an Arcalian
atmosphere* We saw at first no
Lomestic animals except a-tailless cat,
eith an attempt at that appendage
which was a. decided and: ignominious
ailure. These creatures were fre[uently
-tied tc- the house-door likq a
log, hut for what purpose who can say?
L cat confined after that fashion elsewhere
would strangle^ itself directly,
jater on we saw specimens of the curi>ns
lap-dogs of the country; so-dlminuive.
as to be quite remarkable, and
which were highly prized, though one
:ould see no Deauty or attraction in
heir snub noses and big, bulging
iyes.? Bailouts Due West.
A Perfect Gentleman.
"Who is that man who has just gone
>ut?" asked a traveler of a bar-ke6per
n Deadwood City the other day.
"That," replied tho bartender,
that's a perfectgentleman?one of the
H03t perfect gentlemen in the camp."
"Indeed," said the surprised stranjcr.
"Why, the other night, over at Jack
Bowie's game, ho killed a man for
;omething or other, and tho next day
to paid the undertaker's bill out of his
>wn pocket and sent the widow a bar- .
'el of flour. It is true he madoabig
y inning and all that, but how many
nen do you meet nowadays with a
preat big~heart liko that? He's a perfect
gentleman, sir."? Columbus {Ohio}
Some Qgzettt
PREYING ON FRECXD&
Men Who Live By Borrowing**?
Types of the Class.
. There are borrowers and borrowers,
and from tbe mildest to the most aggressive,
unblushing and insatiable
type of this class of human parasite
there is probably no class of peoplo
on earth more shunned and detested.
There is nc limit to the inveterate bor
rower s assurance, iie wni borrow ms
best friend's last dollar, and his conscience?if
he has one?seems n<iver to
rebuke him.
The chronic borrower of the worst
type cannot be more forcibly delineated
than he is in the character of Narcisse,
the handsome youns: Creole who figures
so prominently in George W. Cable's
novel, "Dr. Sevier." This type of the
borrower never repays, and never really
intends to. ajtnpugh-.ihe sophistry,
"of Ms nature is so inuch-the master of
him that in assuring his victim that he
will certainly refund the amount borrowed
hG can almost make himself believe
that such is really his intention.
Narciase represents that tvne of bor
rower who is utterly selfish," yet who
manages, through an affected artlcssness
which is almost natural, to make
it appear that he is the most benevolent
and kindly disposed person in the
world- Assuming always the attitude
of a chosen frienC he is not to be repulsed
except by downright insult
His chief weapon is flattery, and his favorite
victim one who can resist it no
more than he can summon courage to
meet repeated advances by a blank refusals
The young man on a small salary
whose tastes-arc more fastidious than
those of many a millionaire invariably
parts with his monthly or weekly sti/irmaiHrt?-r>KlT7
in <<^T7inr>f? of its Tr>
ceipt. He bridges over his pecuniary
chasms by borrowing of his friends and
fellow-employes. There is nothing
mean about this kind of a borrower.
He despises a penurious man above all
others, bat then penurious men are
never borrowers, and, while abundantly
able, they are seldom known to lend.
The borrowing clerk or employe confines
his patronage to one victim at
a time. First he borrows a quarter to
get his lnnch, and repays it with scrupulous
promptness. He repeats the
process at frequent intervals, and,
while increasing his demands from 25
cents up to twice or three times that,
rinfts Tint fail tn rafnnd thfi amount ae
cording to agreement. Then he gives
his victim a ore a thing spell while he
commences preliminary proceedings
with 'a fresh unfortunate. Seleoting
now a favorable time and place, he returns
to his first friend and unbosoms
himself in a burst of confidence
not to be resisted. He must have $10
or he is ruined, and explains the whole
matter so plausibly that the lender cannot
refuse him. Having been in the
past promptly repaid he has no reason
for refusing, so he hands over half of
his week's salarv and sees the last of
it. - The borrower, with a cool hardihood
that does not exist elsewherestudies
to give the impression that he
has forgotten all about' his obligation,
_&n1d>theJejjder is .too. proud to remind i
OZiu iXil. ^
There is one type of the chronic bor- (
rower whose frank, open hearted manner
is simply marvelous. It is his stock
in trade. He will slap you on the back
in the friendliest manner in the world,
and, looking1 you smilingly in the face,
will say: uYon haven't got a couple of
dollars about you, have you, my dear
foll/iTrrS T rinflirn T fnroTifr mv rxv.lrfit
'v"v " 1 ??j r~
book this morning and am completely
strapped!"'
Or course, he gets the couple of dollars
and you may be sure that you will
never see it again. Every day for
weeks, perhaps months, the borrower,
if he sees you across the street, will
come over purposely to say: "Well, I i
declaro, I forgot all about that little
matter this morning; what a bore, to be
auroP1 You a^ree with him heartily
as to the last clause of his remark, but
politely request him not to mention it
Finally your coolness rather discourages
him, and he, too, like every other
member of his class, makes it convenient
to fornret all about the matter.
Then there is your distant relative,
or the man who once did you a small
favor. He is as susceptible to insult?8
he is lazy and shiftless. As employer
after employer discharges him for insolence,
arrogance or utter incapacity,
or as he voluntarily quits work in order
to maintain his cheap dignity, he Comes
to you to keep him out of the gutter, to
brace him up and get him another situation.
The longer you pay for his
board and clothes the more he is willing
to let you, and the easier is he insulted
by his successive employers,
who do not recognize his title to an assumption
of dignity which so overbalances
his actual usefulness.
These are some borrowers, but their
nam? is legion and their methods countless.
The Business Outlook.
Wall Street is said to be the pulse of
the nation. The good times are discounted
by the great operators of the
street. The great prosperity of '79 and
*80 first showed itself in prices on the
stock exchange. Tho drought of '81
and the bad times which followed caused
depression in securities which was
not felt in the general business of the
country till later. For two years prices
have been on the down grade, but early
in February a changed feeling manifest
ed itself in the street. The "bears"?
that is the sellers of the market?failed
in their efforts to still further depress
prices, and the "bulls" took a hand in
the game of speculation and succeeded
in establishing a higher range of values.
Then the iron market became more active.
Sagacious business men say that
the price of iron tells the story of the
industrial situation. When the quoted
values of that metal fall, it means that
all the industries of the country are
suffering; but when there is a new demand
for tools and engines?that is,
for iron and steel?it shows that the business
of the country is reviving. Tbe
price of iron steadily went down from
1881 to 1S84, but the February of this
year told a different story. The demand
for iron increased and there was
an advance in its price. There are, it
is true, some bad business indications.
There are many failures, wages are being
reduced, the bank currency is contracting,
and gold is being shipped
abroad but after all we have plenty of
currency and the surplus of last year's j
crops is large. Our population is increasing,
and the condition of our ma- I
chinery for doing work was never better.
The American people are hopeful
as well as enterprising, and ii ths crops
this year are at" all good, they will be
as prosperous a? ever in the closing
months of this year.
-yMiss Cleveland, a sister of the Governor
of New York, is lecturing on
<?Mddi?val History." She resides at i
fioKaadtPatent, N. Y-, and is a lady ?J
gaperiorjrqltare. _ J
Fairy Lodge.
The following description of an ideal
children's play-house, by Mary A.
Lathbuiy, in St Nicholas for April,
may be found to contain helpful hints
for some of both of our grown-up and
"On the level brow of a mountain,
within a hundred miles of the office of
St. Nicholas, stands a lovely home.
There are many beautiful and interesting
things in and around the home,
gather ed'from foreign lands and from
our own, and nothing has been left undone
that could help to make the six
children of the home wise and happy.'
But the happiest thought of all was the
building of the little log cabin, called
rairy Lodge. i . .
"There was a great deal of pleasure
got out of the building and the settling
of the Lodge. I think the great chim.
.ncy .must have been built
wfc'tjtf tfic -'logs are ablaae ifr it;-items:
the heart and lungs 'of the house.;: The
fire-place almost fills one side of the
'living-room,' and all the old-time
utensils are there,?the andirons, the
crane, the tongs, the bake-kettle, the
iron tea-kettle, while the bellows hangs
by the chimney-side.
"There are no 'modern antiques7 -inFairy
Lodge, and everything is a bit of
history. The cupboard at one end of
the fire-place- is filled with rare old
odds and ends from many a broken set
of china. On the right of the fire-place
staxds the spinning-wheel, and the
great arm-chair is drawn close to the
Draided rug before the fire. 'Then
there are chests and dressers with
brass corners and handles, and chairs,
and tables with spindle legs; old-time
mirrors, and a clock with a time-worn
face; arid, in a corner, the big-woolwheel,
the swifts, and the reel.
"There are interesting pictures on
the log walls?miniatures of men with
high, rolling collars, and of women
witn snort waists ana putty sleeves;
and there are documents of historic
value, yellow with age and heavy with
seals, in frames of tarnish gilt. There
are books also, in which the 's's are all
fs,1 as one of the six children said;?
and psalm-books full of 'quavers,'
'semi-quavers,' and demi-semi-quavers.'
'
"There is a kitchen, opening out of
the 'living-room,' which nas the modern
innovation of a cook-stove. ' The
two elder girls practiced cookery at
i the Lodge, and could not reach the
! best results with a tin bake-oven and a
i i J /
; iong-nancuea irymg-pan.
"Oil those long and lovely days
! when there are guests at the home, the '
! Lodge, as you may imagine, is a cozy
| retreat for the giris and their friends. I
! There is the last recipe from the Cook!
ing Cinb to be tried" in the morning,
! and a tea at five o'clock. There is no
hurry, for there is no heavy work to bs
done before 'company' comes.
"There is an old-fashioned flowergarden
in front of the Lodge; and the
old-fashioned flowers have Had the honor
of going, each summer, with the
flowers from the home conservatories,
in thousands of bouquets, through the
Flower MissioD, to the city hospitals
and the sick-rooms of the poor."
unencamzmg Jc*aris ooniBiusm..
The two voting newspaper men who
are making a tilt just at present m the
way of Americanizing Parisian journalism
are named Chamberlain and Ives.
The former is a son of the late Ivory I
Chamberlain, and for a number of
years he acted as private secretary of
James Gordon Bennett. The holder of
that position must be a crack journalist,
because Bennett likes to imagine
? - J .V X
nimseu an eauoriai writer, ?au is iui- j
ever suggesting subjects which his
secretary has to write out Chamberlain
got"$10,000 a year and all his expenses
for traveling with Bennett. It
is said that some ot his former employer's
money is invested in the Paris
Morning News. Ives, who has a slice
of the .property, used to be in New
York journalism. He came to New
York from Buffalo, where his parents
I reside stilL He is a tall, slim young
man with an. olive complexion and a
big black eyebrow that runs straight
across his forehead. There is a strain
of Indian blood in his veins. Some
i vears a2:0 he married the lovely and
accomplished daughter of Mr. Frank
B. Carpenter, the artist He went
abroad to -work in London for the Associated
Press; and distinguished himself
I by hunting Oakey Hall to his hiding
place when that erratic individual ran
away to England some years a~o.
Ives was then snapped up by the Herald,
whose work ho did in London for
two or three years. Finally Mr. Bennett
ordered him to Paris, Dublin, San
Francisco and New York in quick succession,
countermanding each order
just as Ives got under way. That was
too much for the young man's Indian
temper, and he sent in a hot letter of
resignation, to which Bennett replied:
"I have received your impudent communication,
and its contents are quite
satisfactory to me." Then Ives wrote
back: "Wad to ?now you nuns; mu
impudent I have been told that all I
I needed to make me a first-class Herald
i man was a complete stock of that
! article." On the whole, Chamberlain
j and Ives are the kind of young men
who seem likely to make journalism
I hum in Paris.?New York World.
Arthur's Two Hundred Wives.
We most always have some Indians
here, says a Washington letter writer.
They want to see the president once in
a while, and the president and secrei
tary of the interior want to see them,
j The Indians always have a good time.
I They are brought" here in good style,
j carefully shown all the attractions of
i the town, and lionized by the people in
J a certain sort of society. They don't
{ usually get the thing they come for;
but they always get something, and
[ sometimes it seems better than the
thins asked for- Some New Mexico
Indians, recently at the capital, carried
back with them ideas somewhat
more extravagant than usual. They
began the story with the remark that
President Arthur was the wealthiest
man in the world; that in his great
treasury gold and silver were as plentiful
as the sands on the plains of New
! Mexico, and that in this great storehouse
the president has 200 wives, who
j have nothing else to do but count out
,'paper money for him all day long.
j
Feminine naivete?Miss Darling:" O,
Mr. Springer, I must thank you for
vour last noveL It is nositivelv on
j trancing!" Springer, the rising young
! novelist, (charmed by Miss Darling's
enthusiasm): "Really"? I am delighted
that you are pleased. Tell me, candidly
now, how you like the finish."
Miss Darling (with sweet simplicity):
"Why, to tell the truth, I've been so
busy reading some real important !
works that I have not found the time !
to get beyond the tenth chapter of the i
'Switary" Rover.' " Mr. Springer is J
himself a Solitary iiovcr lor tnc real ox i
'tho evening. ., 1 |
| WIT AND HUMOR
i Why was-?k>seph the straightestman
J on record? Because Pharaoh made
! him a ruler. .... . . '
The gentleman hunting for widows
is referred to the pension office, where
! the names and addresses of thousands
j arc kept
It is a remarkable fact that however
well young ladles may be versod in
| grammar, very few are abie to doclino
| matrimony. . A
Virginia girl married a tramp who
j turned out to be a duke. We've nopity
i for her.- She^houia-have known what
J he was before she married him.* I
I A Wisconsin woman has predicted a
tidal wave on Lake TVffohig*" in June
next. The gentler sex seems tb be
crowding into siH the'professions. \
A Long Island bbv onenefd thbfbird .
I pot 'song-"' '
att fTvA' /*r' 4-11a
ow&l vu UiU ^IV/UUU biUib UUQ UUU
: needed sir. -Then, oh! how-his-mother
fanned him; I -./. j
. i The San Francisco Evening Post s&ya
that the most effective way to keep a ^
manes' memory green is not to build a
monument to him, but to * bo eternally
talking aTxmf doing so. ,, . "r
A, colored barber in Idaho has drawn
the color line; he refuses to ' share' Indians.
He evidently thinks himself
better than the American Government.
?jDrake's Traveler's Magazine. - ^
' You are weak," said a woman to
her. 8on,^jsio *seasl remonstrating
against her . marrying again. "v "Yes,
mQther,"'.he replied, "I am so weak
that I can't go a stepfather." .
The saying is reeved of the latd Mr.
Abram "Hajward, tfiat *'There sire -bundreds
of ihigliBb families: wandering
it. r\ 4.-??4. i fi
iUUlt'U UVC1 vJLlu OUliUlitJilV VI
their dislike and reluctance to ,*lead
trumps." * -
"No, I don't object* to the smell 'of a
cigar," saS^a "widow* to her. loyer. "It
reminds me Of deaf John, who declared "that
although fce' dicPnt like the las to
of -tobacco, he had;to smoke to keep
...the moths- out of his moutk";?
Man y.. ,
Vi :t#." Oil iStu (^K9tWu9
Pious joke: A bashful young .clergyman"
in Nebraska 'lately rose," peonycolor,
to begin his sermon, and started
off beautifuHy^'ftlTMs text as "And
immediately the cock: wept J* and
Peter went out and crew bitterly.?
Independent. ... ^ . -\ i
A man has beep, arrested here .with
160 pounds of unclaimed brass in his m
possession^ "Chicago drummers'who Sk
miss a portion!"1 of their-featitres can <fl
come forward, prove properly, kiyttake
back their lost cheek.?Fittsfrurg Ckron- f W
icle Telegraph?
"My dear," said Mr. Muekleham to / . "J
nis wife, "those hams I bought the
other day are so badly: spoiled .they ^ V
cannot be eaten." . "What a pity/' his
wife replied. "Guess we'd bettejtfsend
them out to the charity hospital.1'? / >
Axkan&ajw Traveler. - t
WlCy Andre- is S years old; she is ./ ?0^,^
playing with her doll, and in her' talk /V J
with it she calls'herself a lady. ''You . ,
a lady ?" says one of the friends pre3- f jjMfl
ent purposely to bother h^r..A^
my little one V?Frerxk Fun '.
A-yonn^ mother, -traveling with, her - . '
infant child, writes the folio wing, letter . " ' >
to her husband at home: "We are all
doing first-rate, and enjoying ourselves
very much. We are in fine health.
The boy can crawl about on all fours.
Hoping that the same be said of you, I
remain, etc., Fanny."
"I am sorry Sedpath left Ireland
just as he did," said Judge Curran .to
a Dublin newspaper man the other day.
*ii ne naa oniy maae up ms mrna 10
stay a month longer I would have so /
arranged it that he would be here yet"
"Aii, now so ?" "In jail,11 responded
the Judge, grimly.
A young man applied for a position
in a doctor's office. "What can you
do ?" asked the physician. "I kain't
do nothin' yet, but i want to learn how
to hack off legs. Got a nat'ral hankerin1
for sich work. Cut one of the
Pendleton boys all 'ter pieces tuther
day," so pap 'lowed Td better be a
doctor."
A lady asked a learned professor if
he understood Chinese. He did.
"Well, what is 'mouth' in Chinese P"
4 Mouth is k'eu." A week later the
lady suddenly asked the professor:
"What is" kitchen door in Chinese?"
"It ir k'eu." "Very remarkable. A
week ago you said 'mouth' is Ifea."
"Quite so," answered the professor;
" whatever opens and shuts is k'eu in
Chinese."
More deaf than formerly?Little
Girl-?"Papa, did mamma say yes to
you right off when you asked her to
marry you ?" Papa?"Certainly she
did."* L. G.?"Why don't she say ye3
now just as quick when you ask her to
ai on r? ..I,.
ao uungs r jca^a?-mammas uuaxing
is not ao good now, darling?,
that's all."
A mot was related at Mrs. Monlton's
a day or two ago by a bright Boston
woman that is worth repeating. 4'The
difference between .New York and Boa*
ton men," said the lady, "is that tho
men of Gotham are so hurried they
run against you, while the men of Boston
are so wrapped in a cloudland of
meditation that you run against them."
A visiting friend found "Simkins with
hiis coat off standing on' the doorstep
the other night, and remarked r : "Suffering
Csesar, man, you'll catch an awful
cold oufchereoa your shirt-sleeves.'1'
That's what I wanV' said JSimkins,
cneeriuuy,, sing a ossesoio ai
a church entertainment to-morrow
night, you know ."?Washington Hatchet.
"Why, how wonderfully lifelike!"
said Mr. Derrix, g?n|ly caressing a
bumble-bee which reposed among the
artificial flowers ancf Bisects on his
wife's new bonnet; "if it was on a garden
flower I'd swear it was all?Gerreat
Cscsar!" ho suddenly shrieked, inserting
a wounded finder in his mouth,
and dancing around likea whirling dervish,
"why, the blamed thing is alive!"
A worldly father, after the stylo of
Lord Chesterfield, is giving good advice
to his son, who is about to enter
society?"And, above alL avoid flirtations."
But if you must flirt or fall in
love, be sure that it is with a pretty
woman. It is always safer." "Why?"
"Because some c?lcr fellow will bo
sure to be attracted and cut you out
before any harm has been done."?
London Post '
Parrots are queer creatures, and.like
monkeys, sometimes seem like a
very burlesque upon humanity. One
South American bird had unfortunately
learned on ship-board the habit of profane
language. The mate, a little
ashamed' of the creaturc's profanity,
undertook a euro by dousing it with
water at each offense. Polly evidently
imbibed the reoroof. for durimr a o-ale.
when a heavy sea broke over a nencoop
and deluged hens and cocks pretty
thoroughly, she inarched up to the
dripping fowls - and screamed out,
"Been swearing again, hain't ye ?"