THE MCCORMICK ADVANCE.
— —— 1 - 9 " ” - -- 1 *
DEVOTED TO THE GENERAL WELFARE.
VOLUME II.
•
McCORMICK, S. C., THURSDAY. MARCH 17. 1887.
-
NUMBER 52.
The London papers, commenting on
the wheat situation, says that America
has the reins entirely in her own hands.
Europe wants something like 2,000,000
bushels per week from the Atlantic
ports during the next five or six months.
The stock of English wheat is reduced to
10,000,000 bushels, against 27,000,000 at
the same time last year.
Surgeon Charles A. Siegfried, of the
United States navy, has leturned from
Far* where he looked into the Pasteur
sy^emof fighting hydrophobia, with a
view to its -introduction into a govern
ment hospital in this country. He says
that medical opinions in France differ as
to the efficacy of the inoculations, but
that the record of cases seems to estab
lish the value of Pasteur’s work.
There is no dearth of physicians in
this country. A statistician declares
that while the annual increase of the
population is less than two per cent, the
annual increase of physicians is more
than five and one half per cent. It is
said that there are nearly two thousand
more physicians in the State of Illinois
than are necessary. No wonder many of
them are drifting into other callings.
^chimney on fire called out some of
the Baltimore firemen the other day.
When they reached the house one of
them drew a big pistol and, standing be
low,- fired five shots up the chimney.
Instantly the 600t and fire dropped
down, and the fire was extinguished.
The concussion loosened the accumula
ted soot. The police and firemen of
that city say it is an old practice with
them and has never failed.
’John T. Norris, of Springfield, Ohio,-
i&onc of the most famous^ deteowvclf^of
the West, and the jails are Tuft df men he
has brought to justice. He is not at all
the sort of man, however, that we find
playing the hero in detective literature.
He is ve^ singular in appearance and is
vain and loquacious to a remarkable de
gree. Says the St. Louis Globe-Democrat:
“Norris is a peculiar species of the genus
detective. His methods of conducting
his business are essentially different from
those of every other member of the fra
ternity known to fame. When he strikes
a town he generally proceeds to let every
body in it know who he is and why he
is present. He assumes no other name
than Norris. His personal appearance
is so easily described that it would seem
for any crook whom he pur-
it. A stiff leg makes
Te
far as known, and
in catching and
which has made
to the crooked people in the
which ho works.
A DAY.
Talk not of rai November, when a day
Of warm, glad sunshine fills the sky of
noon,
And a wind, borrowed from some morn of
June,
Stirs the brown grasses and the leafless
spray.
On the unfrosted pool the pillared pines
Lay their long shafts of shadow; the small
rill,
Binging a pleasant song of summer still,
A line of silver, down the hill-slope shines.
Hushed the bird-voices and the hum of bees,
In the thin grass the crickets pipe no
more;
But still the squirrel hoards his winter
store,
And drops his nut-shells from the shag-bark
trees.
Softly the dark green hemlocks whisper:
bigh
Above, the spires of yellowing larches
show,
Where the woodpecker and home-loving
crow
And Jay and nut-hatch winter’s threat defy.
O gracious beauty, ever new and old!
O sights and sounds of nature, doubly dear
When the low sunshine warns the closing
year
Of snow-blown fields and waves of Arctic
cold!
Close to my heart I fold each lovely thing
The 3weet day yields; and, not disconso
late,
With the calm patience of the woods I
wait
For leaf and blossom when God gives us
Spring!
—J. G. Whittier, in Atlantic Monthly.
A SWAMP MYSTERY.
BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
The summer of the year 1862 was par
ticularly hot on the coast of North Car
olina. It even did something to coun
teract the more destructive heat of the
civil war.
General Burnside had captured a long
reach of the senboard, and had estab
lished his headquarters at Newberne.
No battles followed very soon, nor any
storms to speak of. but the army and the
weather were fast getting into a high
state of preparation for either kind of
event.
There were Union troops at Fort Macon
and Morchead City, not many miles up
the coast from Newberne, and much pay
was due them.
The money came down from the North
in July, and a couple of paymasters re
ceived orders to go at once and deal it
out to the men. , _ „
Before the war a railway had been con- lounge; very strong, indeed; but not a
f runted back at him. “It’s the worst
ind of a storm, but you can’t see it.”
It was a just correction of the state
ment made by the Sergeant, but at that
moment a hoarse, deep,all but sepulchral
voice from among the bushes and black
ness at the right of the track com
manded :
“Halt!”
“Stop her! Quick, boys!” exclaimed
the Sergeant, and as the men changed
instantly from motive powerinto brakes,
he sprang from the car into water above
his knees and waded forward to answer
the hail and give the countersign.
It was all in vain. Down came a
double deluge of rain and thicker dark
ness. Then a vividness ot blue elec
tricity danced through the drippmg
bushes and a great roar of thunder fol
lowed it as if in search of the hidden
“picket.” Neither rain, nor lightning,
nor thunder, nor the anxious question
ings of the Sergeant discovered him.
There he was, or must have been, dead
or alive, for he had said “halt,” buttha
was apparently all he had to say.
The Sergeant splashed his way back
to the hand-car, using very strong lan
guage,and it was decided to go forward.
“We’re just as likely to be fired into,
first thing,” remarked the Paymaster’s
clerk, “and they'd hit some of us, sure!”
Both of the paymasters agreed with
him, and one expressed his satisfaction
that the box containing the greenbacks
was waterproof.
“That’s more than I am,” said one of
the soldiers.' “This ’er rain’s got through
my roof. I can feel it trickle down in
side of me.”
The hand-car was not propelled rapid
ly after that, but the lightning and
thunder "#orked harder than ever. Per
haps half a mile had been gained, when
another voice, on the left this time and
not so near, but equally hoarse and per
emptory, shouted:
“Halt!”
Other words which seemed to follow
were swallowed up by a wide-mouthed
clap of thunder, and so was the Ser
geant's prompt response, but in an in
stant he was among the bushes.
The first we heard from him was:
“ Boys, it's up to my waist and getting
deeper!”
“Go on, Sergeant!” shouted one of the
paymasters. “ They’ll be shooting at us
if they don’t get an answer!”
“Hurrah for General Burnside!”
squawked the Paymaster’s clerk, in a
vague effort to let any supposed picket
know which side he was on, but a severe
sternness from the further end bade him:
“Shut up! Halt! Come along! ”
“I’m coming!” shouted the Sergeant.
‘ ‘Friend! Paymaster.”
“Shut up! Come along!” responded
the threatening voice beyond him.
For a full quarter of an hour the Ser
geant groped and floundered among
those bushes. Again he used strong
’em! Bully! Better mount! Better
mount!”
That was what it sounded like, but
the Sergeant exclaimed - ?—-
“Abraham Lincoln! If it doesn’t make
five times that we’ve been halted by those
Confederate frogs!”
In half an hour more wo were all safe
in Morehead City, leaving the frogs to
play joke3 on somebody else. — Chicago
Inter- Ocean.
au
Prince Pierre Krapotkine, the Nihilist,
whose brother recently commited suicide
in exile in Siberia, has just concluded a
work that has been sent to the printers,
to be entitled “In French and Russian
Prisons.” Krapotkine has seen the in-
sido of the prisons of both countries,
and, but for his escape from the fortress
of St. Peter and St. Paul, he would
probably be at work now in the mines
of Siberia, or else dead. The story of
his escape, as told by him to Stepniak
and related by the latter,is very romantic.
Kr.ipotmne, who had been dangerously
ill, affected to be very weak during his
convalsence, and, therefore, was allowed
to walk in the yard of the Nicholas
hospital under guard of a single soldier.
His friends planned his escape, and, as
they were able to communicate with him,
carried out their plans. A fast horse
was kept in wa : ting on the next corner
from the hospital. One Nihilist hiied a
room overlooking the hospital yard and
the road, and the signal when the coast
was clear was to be a certain tune played
on the violin. The violin began just as
the hospital yard door opened to admit
a load of wood, and Krapotkine knocked
down his guard and escaped.
structed from Newberne to Morehead
City. Its rails were still tlmre, but all
its rolling stock, with the exception of
one nand-fnrJiAri gong *
wuit enortgh to
of its course was through
dense bushes were now
ing-out as if they meant
track before the end of th
interior
[only just
»tra much
np whose
iatly reach-
Apture the
,season.
Dr. T. D. Crothers is working hard to
prove that inebriety is contagious under
certain circumstances. He has just
printed a paper entitied: “Cer ain
Hereditary and Psychical Phenomena in
Inebriety,” to illustrate his doctrine that
intoxication may be imparted by conta
gion when hereditary defects predispose
the system to such influences. That is
to say, a perfectly sober man, brought
in contact with drunken men, may be
come drunk himself to all practical in
tents, or an equally sober person whose
parents, one or both, are hard drinkers,
may, when exposed to some mental
shock, apparently become fully intoxi
cated.
Montana cattlemen are greatly alarmed
for the future, owing to the overstocking
of the ranges. Last year witnessed a
heavy influx of cattle brought there to
winter. Large herds were brought ovei
the parched trail from the Rio Grande,
and in their famished condition placed
on ranges already so fully stocked that
jply a phenomenally mild winter could
^event heavy losses. To make matters
the calf crop was unusally large,
to (Christmas the weather was favor-
Ible and all was well, but since then,
the temperature ranging as low as forty
below and blinding storms,before which
cattle drift in spite of the cowboys’ ef
forts, reduce the cattle in flesh and so
weaken them an to make heavy losses
inevitable if the cold weather continues.
The Quartermaster plated his one
hand-car at the disposal of 'the paymas
ters. He did so with the pleasant infor
mation that at the previous evening the
busy Confederates had made a raid and
had swept away all the pickets posted
along the line of the railway. New pick
ets had been posted, he told them, and
their proposed trip would be reasonably
safe. ,
“That is,” he said, “I guess you’ro
safe from any Confeds; but if you don’t
get through before dark I’d advise you
to be pretty prompt about answering any
hail. The boys’ll all be wide awake
this time. They won’t be slow aboat
taking care of themselves in the dark.
Not a man of ’em wants to go to Wil- i
mington just now, nor to Andersonv/lle
either.”
That warning made the Paymaster
shake his head and grew in importance
before the hand-car set out, for it was
plain enough that it would be dark be
fore the trip could be half made. Pre
cisely how dark it would be or why was
not as yet imagined by anybody.
There were nine men huddled on that
hand-car when it went. A sergeant and
four eoldiers were its motive power,
guard and garrison. The writer of this
story was there altogether as an adven
turer. Two pa' masters, with the rank
of major, and one clerk were in charge
of a black box conta ningover $80,000 in
greenbacks, to be scattered among the
volunteers on the morrow.
The air grew more and more close and
sultry, and just before night a sort of
haze began to rise over the eastern hori
zon.
“That’s it, Major,” said the Sergeant
to one of the paymasters. “We’re going
to hear from Cape Hatteras.”
“Storm coming?”
“Right along. ’Twon't take it long
o co me.”
He wa§ correct as to the time required
by Cape Hatteras, or whatever was man
aging that storm. The sky rapidly grew
black as ink and darkness came with
but moderate reference to the departing
sun.
Just before entering the denser thick
ets of the swamp, a picket was reached
and the officer in charge repeated the
warning of the Quartermaster:
“Be ready to answer right away. It’ll
be pitch dark and some of the boys are
nervous, after last night’s work. Thej^ll
shoot quick.”
That was to the Sergeant, but it was a
Paymaster who replied:
“Well, now, Captain, we didn’t say
so, but we thought the trip would be
safer by night than by day. The men
have got to have the money.”
“Hope the Confeds won’t get it then.
Put her through, Sergeant, but look
sharp. The storm’s most got here.” He
also was correct about the weather. In
ten minutes more such a storm had ar
rived as was a credit to Cape Hatteras
and the whole seaeoast of North Caro
lina. On rolled the handcar, its crouch
ing passengers drenched with rain that
fell in streams rather than drops. The
lightning flashed almost incessantly, and
the thunder seemed to be rolling around
all over the swamp. Except where a
streak of lightning cleft it, the darkness
was like a solid wall, and there was
reither headlight nor hand lantern pro
vided for that handcar.
“Worst storm I ever saw,” remarked
the Sergeant, and one of the brace of
men who were acting as motive power
soul came to meet him, nor did another
word reply to his repeated requests that
the picket should advise hint as to what
course iie should take. i _
They party on the hand-c%r eoWfiftTiT
under/ sheets and torrents And whole
mill-jionds of falling water, 'and hoped
that there might be a cessation of the
lightning flashes, to that any hidden
riflemen would be less able to shoot
straight.
“I give it up,” gild the voice of the
Sergeant at last. He “was only three
paces from the car, but he was invisible.
“The boys know who we are,” said
one of the soldiers, “and we can go on;
but it’s an awful mean joke to play in
such a rain as this.”
“There’s something more than that in
it,” said one of the paymasters. “There’s
a trap of some kina. We’ll never get to
Morehead City.”
“We’ll go ahead, anyhow,” said the
Scrgeaut. “There’s as much danger be
hind us there is before.”
“I’m glad I hurrahed for Burnside,”
remarked the Paymaster's clerk.
On went the hand-car into the water-
soaked darkuess, and another mile or
more was rolled over before the wayside
summons was sonorously repeated.
“Quick, now, Sergeant!” said the
Senior Paymaster.
“Don’t know, Major,” he replied.
“That fellow's away into the swamp.
He’s got under cover. I couldn’t even
find him. Risk it! Boys, risk it! Run
ahead. They can’t hit us if they do
fire.”
“Halt!” came warningly out of the
blackness as the hand-car dashed for
ward, and with it came thunder that
sounded like a rattle of musketry.
“They didn’t work their joke this
time. Major,”said the Sergeant.
“There’s more than that in it,” said
the Major. “I’m glad we’re past that
picket, butTm afraid we're running into
trouble. They may have surprised More
head City and the fort.”
“Reckon not, Major. Run her your
level best, boys. We won’t halt again
for anybody.”
That was brave talk, but-in less than
twenty minutes he exclaimed :
‘ Hold on, boys! That picket is right
on the track. Stop her for your lives 1”
They did so,as an ominous and menac
ing throat repeated :
“Halt! Halt!” and from the rear, at
the same moment, other voices seemed
to say:
“Got’em! Got’em now?”
“I’m afraid they have,” groaned the
Major, “money and all, and we’re on our
way to Wilmington.”
“No use to hurrah for Burnside this
time,” squeaked the Paymaster’s clerk.
The Sergeant ran ahead along the track
until he missed his footing in the dark
and went off into a grimy depth of water
and black mud, just ns somebody said:
“Who’s there?” and he was trying to
respond:
“Friend, with the countersign.”
His mouth has too much in it for suc
cess, and once more he used strong and
very volcanic expressions as soon as his
vocal organs were at work again. Then
we heard him say:
“Come along, boys. There isn’t any
body here, and the water’s six inches
deep over the track.”
It was a doleful mystery, ar 1 the
chance of being fired into grew grisley
enough’ as the car was dubiously urged
forward.
The fierceness of the storm diminished,
and thus, with a great gust of wind from
Cape Hatteras, it ceased. More wind
came and swept away the clouds. The
moon came out gloriously, and at that
very moment the Paymaster's clerk ex
claimed :
“Quick, Sergeant! They could see
to shoot now!”
“Halt! Come along! Got’em!
Taking off Warts.
E. L. Akeliurst stepped into John H.
Sheehan & Co. ’s store thd-wrirer day and
was waited upon by H. C. Hart, one of
the clerks. While Mr. Akehurst was
picking out change t^i^y his bill from
a quantity of mone^fl|^M\he had scat
tered on the top of asnow-case,Mr. Hart
remarked :
“I see that you havt one or two large
warts, Brother Akehurst.”
“Yes, I have had them since child
hood. ”
“Why don’t you get rid of them?” was
the next remark.
“How can that be done?” said Mr. Ake
hurst.
“Easily enough,” raid Mr. Hart. “Run
up the stairs to Joe Monroe the other
clerk, iu the third story, and he will
talk them off.”
“Talk them off?” said Mr. Akehurst,
in astonishment.
“Certainly; you go up and I’ll tell
him through the speaking tube that you
are coming,” said Mr. Hart.
Mr. Akehurst went up into the third
story. “Good morning, Dr. Monroe,”
said he to the druggist. “Mr. Hart
sent me up to have my warts talked off.”
“All right,’ said Dr. Joe, “I’ll do it ”
He took hold of Mr. Akehurst’s hand,
looked at a large seed \> art, put his fin
gers on it, looked Mr. Akehurst in the
face, and as the latter remarked after
ward: “We talked and laughed and
laughed and talked like a couple of
youngsters for a few minutes.” Then
Dr. Monroe dropped Mr. Akehurst’s
hand and said:
“That wart won’t .bother you much
longer.”
No fee was charged, and, after thank
ing Mr. Monroe, Mr. Akehurst left the
store, and in the rush of the holiday
trade he forgot the incident that amused
him for a day. One evening, within a
week, he looked at the hand where the
wart had been located and found that it
had wholly disappeared, and the second
one had decreased in size materially. A
representative of the Observer saw the
mark on the spot where the wart was lo
cated. It looked like a scar resulting
from a light burn.
Mr. Monroe was interviewed, and on
being asked how he operated he smiled
and said: There is no operation about it;
I just felt of the wart -.and talked it off,
as I have done probably 500 times a year
for several years. 1 claim no peculiar
gift in this matter, abd suppose that you
f 1 have if you
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
A Poser—No .Fruitless Errands l’or
Him—A Treat—He Acted Oddly
—He Liked the Beans—
A Texas Tragedy.
Doctor—“There, get that prescription
filled, and take a tablespoonful three
times a day before meals.”
Pauper Patient—“But, doctor, I don’t
get but one meal in two days.”—Sift
ings.
No Fruitless Errands lor Him.
“Doctor, I must ask you to renew that
prescription for my daughter. She is
threatened with another attack, and”
“I gave you no prescription, sir. I m
no doctor of medicine. I'm a dentist.”
“Oh, you are? Well, then, go to my
house and pull a couple of teeth for my
wife. I’m not going to run four or five
blocks for nothing.”—Philadelphia Call.
A Treat.
An old man wearing a misfit suit was
hurrying through the slush in Market
street late yesterday afternoon when his
feet suddenly flew out from under him.
There was a splash, a muffled snort, and
then the man with the misfit suit was
seen to rise slowly to his feet.
“Hurt you much?” asked a sympa
thetic witness of the accident.
“Not a bit,” replied the old man with
a smile. “In fact, it was a good deal of
a treat. I have slipped up on the side- by which the
walks seventeen times this winter, but j could be stopped or reduced. Thequan-
this is the first time I have had the good tity of gas that escapes from, some wells
Texan, shr.igging his shoulders, “no
body knows where.”
“Why, that is the strangest thing I
ever heard of.”
“Yes,” said the mild Texan, “but
that ain’t the queerest thing about it,
either.”
“No?”
“There’s a terrible smell of brimstone
left in the room.”
They parted with mutual dislike. —
Stockton Mail.
Boring for Gas.
Boring for gas is exactly like boring
for oil, in all its workings ; but the after
operations of pumping and packing, as
in the case of some oil-wells to raise the
oil, are not necessary in gas-wells. If
the gas is there, it will come up of its
own free will and accord, and come with
a rush, blowing tools and everything else
out of the well before it. Indeed, gas
men would often be as glad to keep their
treasure down as oil men are to get theirs
up. The great pressure at which it is
confined in the earth, and the correspond
ing force with which it esca_pes from the
well, make it somewhat hard to mange
or control. This pressure is enormous—
as high as five hundred pounds to the
square inch in some cases where it has
not been gauged, the pressure is esti
mated to have readied eight hundred
pounds to the square inch. Any attempt
to confine the gas in this well for the
purpose of measuring it would doubtless
have resulted in sending iron casing
flying from the well, or in producing
Either effects more startling and costly
than satisfactory or agreeable. Indeed,
until recently, no plan had been devised
flow of gas from a well
fortune to strike the snow when it was
soft. Just squeeze the water out of the
coat-tails, please.”—Philadelphia Call.
He Acted Oddly,
He was going home to his wife aud
family. Itrwas growing dark. He had
a lonely road from the train, and he was
getting along as fast as he could, when he
suddenly gathered a dim suspicion that
a man behind him was following him
purposely. The faster he went the faster
the man went, and they came to a grave
yard. “Now,” he said to himself, “I’ll , , t • s .
find out if he is after me;” and he start- dangerously high pressure of the gas as
ed through the cemetery. The man fcl- comes rushing along from the
lowed him. Vague visions of revolvers
behind him, forebodings of footpads and
garroters and things grew upon him. He
dodged round a grave, and his pursuer
dodged after him. He made a detour of
a family vault. Still this forbidding
shadow after him round and round. At
last he turned and faced the fellow.
“What do you want? What are you fol
lowing me for?”
“Isay, do you always
this? Pm going up to —
nave the same poi
would only dev«T““
deal of amuscmi
"wf-Ttoyr
feelingsot
but the warts _
you have any on your hands
ti me, and I’ll talk them off.”
server.
ye a great
g the faces
r filter
and surprise;
the same. If
show them
— Utica Ob-
a job of carpentering, and the conductor
told me if I followed you I’d find the
place. Are you going home at all?”
The Sea.
The temperature of the sea is the same,
varying only a trifle from the ice of the
pole to the burning sun of the equator.
A mile down the water has a pressure of
over a toll to the square inch, if a box si x
feet deep were filled with sea water, aud
allowed to evaporate under the sun, there
would be two inches of salt left on the
bottom. Taking the average depth of
the ocean to be three miles, there would
be a layer of pure salt 2 SO feet thick on
the bed of the Atlantic. The water is
colder at the bottom than at the surface.
In the many bays on the coast of Nor-
i way the water often freezes at the bot
tom before it does above. Waves are very
deceptive. To look at them in a storm
one would think the water traveled. The
i water stays in the same place, but the
motion goes on. Bo netimes in storms
these wayes are forty feet high, and
travel fifty miles an hour, more
than twice as fast as the swiftest
steamer. The distance from valley to
valley is generally fifteen times the
height, hence a wave five feet high will
extend over seventy-five feet of water.
Evaporation is a wonderful power in
drawing the water from the sea Every
year a layer of the entire sea, fourteen
feet thick, is taken up into the clouds.
The wind bears their burden into the
land, and the water comes down in ra n
upon the fic!ds to flow hack at last
through rivers. The depth of the sea
presents an interesting problem. If the
Atlantic were lowered 6,561 feet, the
distance from shore to shore would be
half as great, or 1,500 miles. If lowered
a little more than three miles, say 10,680
feet, there would be a road of dry land
from Newfoundland to Ireland. This is
the place on which the Great Atlantic
c-iblcs were laid. The Mediterranean is
co nparatively shallow. A drying up of
660 feet would leave three distinct seas,
and Africa would be joined with Italy.
The British Channel is more like a
pond, which accounts for its choppy
waves. * •
I he Happy Western Farmer.
The industrious farmer begins work in
the morning long before the sdn thinks
bf getting up. With his soul shrouded
in gloom he proceeds to build afire and
softeu his boots with a hammer. He
then takes a lantern and shovels his way
to the barn and feeds the hogs. It is
then time to feed the newly arrived calf,
which seems to delight in bunting a
\ He Liked Them
United States Senator Sawyer, of Wis
consin, told this 6tory to a group of his
fellow Senators:
In early times up in the pine woods,
when our folks weren’t all millionaires,
some of us used to get up a chopping syn
dicate. A dozen fellows, all good with
the axe and handspike, would club to
gether, chip in aud buy grub for the
winter, and go into the woods to chop
and log pine. In the spring they sold
their logs, substracted the winter’s ex
penses, and divided profits. One fall
such a party was made up in my town.
They were all ready to go into the woods,
when some one asked who was going to
cook. “I won’t,” said one. “I can’t.”
said another. A third said he could,
but he’d be blamed if he would. It
went o i, and nobody would cook. Iu
those times, as now, a cook got big pay.
net less than $50 a month. The syndi
cate could hardly afford that. Finally
one fellow said if they couldn’t hire a
cook they’d got to have grub, and there
was but one way cut, they must do the
cooking themselves. Ho suggested that
they draw cuts, and whoever got the*
shortest straw must do the cooking. The-
first man who should complain of the
grub would have to relieve him. This
was agreed to, and they went on into
camp. The first meal in camp was din- I
ner. The cook had seen his mother cook
beans. It looked easy, and he decided
to have beans for dinner. He put a peck
in the kettle, chucked in a big piece oi'
pork and a double handful of salt. In
time the men sat down to dinner. Every- i
body helped himself. The first to dish
out some beans put a big spoonful in his
mouth. They were smoking hot and ;
somewhat salt. The fellow spewed the
stuff out with a big swear word. 4 ‘Those
are the doggondest beans I ever ate. j
Still, I like them—I like them.”
whom the a<
“do” for t
V nyoyogpr
:\ entered t
sembled,
shot him d
sentenced to
Roberts had not confirmed the sentence
when the mail left.—London Truth.
The Veil Lifted.
Family Physician—“Your case puz
zles me exceedingly, Miss Bessie. After
a careful diagnosis I find you have symp
toms of arsenical poisoning, malaria, a
mild form of dyspepsia, slight indica
tions of softening of the brain and—I re
gret to say it—a suspicion of gout.”
Miss Bessie—“How horrid! and after
the care I have taken of myself this win
ter. Why, doctor, do you know I
haven’t been anywhere for two weeks ex
cepting to our Cooking Club dinner
night before last.”—Puck.
New Use for the Tobacco Plant.
A new use for the tobacco plant has
been discovered. Its stems and waste,
it is claimed, are equal to linen rags in
the manufacture of paper.Tobacco waste
costs less than $10 a ton, linen rags $70
to $80. ihere is no expense in assorting
the former and very little shrinkage, as
against a loss of one-third of rags. The
yearly tobacco waste is estimated by the
census report at from 3,000,000 to 4,-
000,000 pounds.
01(1 Saws in Rhyme.
A stone that is rolling will gather no moss
What’s sauce for the goose, for the gander is
sauce.
Each cloud in the sky has a silvery lining
First capture the hare, before on it you’re
dining.
A Texas Tragedy.
A Stockton lawyer was at the big city
by the bay the other day, and while
watching a large funeral wind slowly
along to the hills he was accosted by a
tall fellow, whose sun-burned face was
eavesboarded by the wide brim of a
slouch hat.
“Could you tell me,” asked the
stranger politely, “whose turnout that
is?”
“Yes, sir,’’answered the man, sharply.
“Thank you. And whose is it? ’
“The undertaker’s.”
“Ah! And may I ask who the corpse
was!”
“You may.”
“Thank you.
“A lawyer.”
“A ”
And who was heF*
seems to aelignt in ^
pail of milk all over the tiller of the soil, I J _ .
until hr» onlv needs to be stamned to I kis ears, looked at the man earnestly, and
The stranger paused as if doubtful of
until he only needs to be stamped to
pass for a package of oleomargarine. He
crawls through a barbed-wire and digs
his hay out of the snow, feeds his stock,
milks the cows, cleans out the stables,
gathers p the frozen chickens, chases a
stray pig vvorth 25 cents for four miles,
doctors a sick horse, freezes his fingers,
ge*s kicked by a one-eyed mule and
when the gloaming comes and quietness
broods over the earth he has a single
half hour to meditate and wonder how
he will m ike the next payment on that
machine note.—Pomeroy (IE. T.) Wash
ingtonian.
A teacher in a San Francisco public
school was informed by a lawyer at 2
r. m. that she was heir to $200,000. He
expected to hear her whoop and to see
her grab her bonnet and run, but instead
of that she calmly replied: “I will hear
| the class in geography, lick three boys,
Got and be at your office in an hour.”
asked, in an eager, you-don’t-sav-so sort
of a voice:
“Did you say a lawyer?”
“Yes, sir; a lawyer.”
“H’m: that’s strange.”
“I don’t see anything strange about
it,” retorted the attorney, slightly net
tled.
“Well,” explained the other, suavely,
“you see, we don’t bury lawyers that
way in Texas, wheje I come from.”
“No?”
“No. When a lawyer dies there we
put him in the third story of a vacant
building, you know.”
He paused with aggravating calmness.
“Well?”
“And then we go up the next day, and
the corpse is gone.”
“Gone!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Gone where?”
“That’s the mystery,” replied the
! Don’t leave till to-morrow what now can be
done,
And always make hay while is shining the
sun.
Never count up your chickens before they
are hatched.
! When horses are stolen the barn door is
latched.
There are fish in the ocean as good as are
caught.
A child ne'er departs from right ways that
are taught. -
As a twig is first bent so the tree is in
clined.
For sheep that are shorn God doth temper
the wind.
Save not at the spigot and lose at the bung.
A n au born for drowning will never be
hung.
Never borrow nor lend, if you would keep a
friend.
The sword is less mighty than words that are
penned.’
A stitch done in time will save ninety and
nine.
Fine feathers, they say, will make birds that
are fine.
A bird in the hand is, in the bushes, worth
two. ’
Don’t ever bite more than you’re able to
chew.
i
Take care of the pence—of themselves pounds
take care.
A child will (won’t) spoil if the rod you
should spare.
The truth is but spoken by children and
fools.
And children are cut when they handle edged
tools.
There's many a slip ’twixt the cup and the
lip.
A stone wears away by continuous drip.
A fool and his money will certainly part.
Aud never" fair laly is won by faint heart
Whoe’ver sows the wind will a whirlwind
soon reap.
Don't buy what's not needed because it is
cheap.
Fools rush in where angels are fearful to
tread
And o'er us a sword often hangs by a thread
In every closet do skeletons hide.
If wishes were horses a beggar might ride.
—H. C. Dodge, in Detroit Free Press.
is enormous, but probaby no correct esti
mate of it has yet bean made. Where
the gas is “piped” away to mills and
houses, all that comes from the woll may
be used; but if it is not all used, the re
mainder must be allowed to escape into
the air. This is done at the regulator,
where it is burned. The regulator is an
ar. angement of pipes and valves, placed
between the gas-well and the town sup
plied with the gas. It Allows only just
as much gas as is being burned in the
town to go on through the pipes, and so
reduces to a proper and safe point the
from the well.
The temperature of the gas as it comes
from the wells is about forty-five de
grees, Fahrenheit.—St. Nicholas.
The Fatal Aee of Spades.
The Lucknow (India) papers report an
awful tragedy which has taken place in
the Leicestershire Rcgimeut. Some pri
vates in a detachment stationed at Ram-
ket ojved a grudge against the Sergeant
go home like of their company and vowed vengeance.
’8 house to do 30 they actually dealt round a pack of
cards, having agreed that the man to
of spades was dealt was to
offender. The card fell to
n the Sergeant
e where they were as-
nce took up his rifle and
d. The murderer had been
death, but Sir Frederick
THE TIDE WILL TURN.
The skipper stood on the windy pier,
“O, mate,” he said, “set every sail;
For love is sweet if true and dear.
But bitter is love if love must faiL n
“No hurry, skipper, to put to sea;
The wind is foul and the water low;
But the tide will turn if you wait a wee,
And you'll get ‘Yes’ where you got ‘No.’ w
The skipper turned again with a smile,
And he found his love in a better mood;
For she had had time to think the while;
“I shall find ten worse for one as good.”
So the tide has turned and he got “Yes."
The sails were filled and the wind was
fair.
Don’t limit the pleasant words I prar^
They are for everyone everywhere.
The tide will turn if you wait a wee,
And good’s not lost if but deferred;
Supposing your plans have gone a-gley.
Don’t flee away like a frightened bird.
Say that you’ve asked a favor in vain,
To-morrow may be a better day,
The tide of fortune may turn again,
And you’ll got “Yes” where you got
“Nay.”
The tide will turn if the thing you mind
Is worth the waiting and worth the cost;
If you seek and seek until you find,
Then your labor will never be lost ^
For waiting is often working, you see,
And though the water may now be low
The tide will turn if you bide a wee.
And you’ll get “Yes” where you got “No.”
—Harper's Weekly.
PITH AND POINT.
. The fishery question—Who’ll take the
eel off ?—Puck.
The world may owe us a living, but
the most of us have to scratch around
pretty lively to get it.—Siftings.
The chick bow through the eggshell breaks,
Which many weeks has hid it;
Cries, as its weak existence wakes,
“My little hatch it did it.”
—Siftings.
Tobogganing might be defined as an
instantaneous sensation followed by a
long walk up hill.—New York World.
An astronomer says that there are ca
nals on the planet Mars. We guess he
means Saturn, for it is Saturn that has
the rings.—Bostin Courier.
“All flesh is grass,” an ancient truth,
By which it will be seen
That in the spring-time of our youth
We are so “jolly green.”
—Texas Siftings.
A boy can walk four miles to go skat
ing, and drag some other boy’s sis
ter on his sled all the way, but when bis
mother wants him to bring a bag of crack
ers from the grocery, he tells her that his
kidneys are so weak that he don’t dare
do it. —Inter- Ocean.
“Well, that’s just like the cheek of
these foreign artists',” olA jjved Mr
Snaggs. “What is?” ask®^her hi
thalT
iesy
Dana, '••vvny, mat man
coming here next summ
Niagara Falls, and I believe he’ll" just
spoil them, sol do.”—Pittsburg Chroni
cle.
The Prescott (Arizona) Miner has the
following: “Is this reservoir water
healthy?” asked a newcomer of an old
Hassayamper. “Do you see that mule,
stranger?” “Yes,sir.” “Well, ten months
ago that mule was a jack rabbit, and
drinking this water has made him what
he is to-day.”
SURE ENOUGH.
I kissed her hand. She slapped my cheek,
The blow came sharp and quick,
Her eyes flashed fire. She did not speak,
My blood boiled hot and thick.
“What do you mean?’ I asked, enraged,
“We’re all alone here, and
You know quite well that we’re engaged,
Then why not kiss your hand ?”
“I do detest a man,” she snapped,
“Who’ll kiss my finger-tips,
In love’s ways one should be more apt—
Else what's the use of lips ?”
—Somerville Journal.
A Queer Search.
“Where do all the pins go to?” asked
a friend of me the other day; and
“what becomes of all the dead birds?”
I asked in reply. This brief colloquy
led me to try an experiment. Having a
day at my disposal, in consequence of a
slight indisposition, and the weather be
ing fine, I determined to devote a whole
day to looking for waste pins and dead
birds. I first hunted all over the floor
of my room for pins, and as I passed out
of the house made a search along all the
halls and at the front door; but I could
not find a pin. I then walked along the
street all the morning, looking for pins
and dead bird- - , but found none. In the
afternoon I took in several of the parks.
I hunted near the seats for pins, and
under all the trees and in the crevices of
fences for birds, but all in vain.
Toward evening I realized how bene
ficial it is to walk “with an object,” but
I did not have a single pin or bird to
show for my hunt. I was compelled to
admit that it was something of a puzzle
to tell what became of them. Not, how
ever, that I never see a stray pin or a
dead sparrow. I have met with a num
ber of people who never saw a dead goat
or a dead mule, 'but everybody hns
picked up a pin, and at long intervals
seen a dead bird. The puzzle is that,
while so many millions of pins and birds
must be gotten away with every day, we
find so few of them. By the way, I
think I never siw a dead pigeon in my
life.—ChicxQO Journal.
Amputated Fingers Reunited.
“Numerous instauces have been re
corded of late in the medical journals,”
6ays Science, “of the complete reunion
of portions of fingers which had been cut
off from the hand, in some cases by the
knife an l iu others by the ax. In one
case a man, in cutting his kindling for
the morning fire, accidentally cut off the
end of his thumb. He had gone from
the place some twenty feet when he re
turned. picked up the end, wiped it and
replaced it, binding it in its original
place as nearly as possible. The wound
united, and the finger is now as good as
ever, save that its sensibility is somewhat
diminished. In another case a boy
chopped off the ends of three fingers.
He was seen by a physician three or four
hours after the accident. The end of the
fingers had been found in the snosv, and
were brought to him. He attached them,
and two of the three united.”
Germany has 28,000 miles of under
ground telegraph wires and France 7,200,
all in successful operation.