Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Mscellany, News, Agricuturee1 Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, APRIL 7, 1 THE HERALD IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MOBNNG, Ats'ewberry C. HI.) BY THOSt Fo GRENKEKRt Editor and Proprietor. Tej-)js5 $9.50 per elhan#19 Invariably in Advance. SThe paper is stopped at the expiration ol time for which it is paid. g The >4 mark denotes expiration of sub feription. A gentleman, who lost his wife a little over year ago, was handling his wife's bible the day-year of her death. %-)ening it he there saw this poem. entitled A YEAR IN MEAVEN. We have no months, no years no cycles here In heaven-no scale of mneasuremnft to mark e movement of the eternal tide; and yet ncie's progress, growth, development. The past is preseut, aud the present flows, With all surroundinm t*des of blessedness, From God the eternal center, in whose life Past, present and to come arc one. We live it Him the -g(,riodis triune one. His love Pervades and fires angels and saints alike;, All worship and adore Him in the light Of new-discovered attributes :and works. But memory lives and is immortal. "Xaught Of all the past is here forgott6n. All Is prespus, and we pass it in review. The dear ones left beind a:e cherished still; And'wit'h alove unknown tefore sometimes The blessed Father suffers us !o go And minister to them, and comfort them, They do not see or hear me, yet I'm there, Watching, loving, waitir;m, longing, readJy To lead them to my happy home above. I-see them weeping as they speak of me, And here them say, "She's gone she's far away. 'Tis now ayear since she was robed and crown - In.heaven. She's lived a year in heaven." And then TheY weep. How can they weep. 0! that they knew The blessedness of life in, heaven. Dear ones, How can they mourn that I have left that dark lkAndaL ';,*& lifPfr oneawith GoNd and Christ THE GENTLTMAN WITH THE AAELLIAS. -0 BY 11. T. o I was going one morning from Southampton to London. I bad the carriage to ny.lf as far as Kingston ; here a little man got in who at once attracted my atten tion by the peculiarity of his dress, appearance and manner. le was in evening dress, everything about him, from the silk-ifacod dress-coat to the patent leather boots, being bran new. A fact of which he was far from being un conscious; each of his garments, in its turn, attracted his notice and approving smile. The only thing about him that violated evening etiquette was his necktie, a. blue one, negligently arranged a la Byron under a roll ing collar. From this I argued that he was a poet, for turn-down collars were by no means so common then as now; the fashion prescribing ter rific gills, which in short-necked men, endangered. the safety of their whiskers and cars. My surmise was confirmed by his long hair, its natural tendency to curl being combated by the copious exhibition of grease, and probably by assiduous brushing. His face was somewhat against my theory: instead of being thin and pale, witheyes "in fine frenzy rolling," it was round, dumpling like, and rosy; his little eyes deep lv set in tunnels of fat, which, as be chuckled from time to time, were half closed by his rising cheeks, and presented to view a mere slit; his nos- short, turned up, and garnished at the tip with six or seven curly hairs; his mouth expansive, and his teeth very good-fortunately, as he showed them all, not even conceal ing the wisdom teeth, which were not quite come down. lie was wecll made, what there was of him; he was not much above five feet higb, rather dis posed to embonpoint. in his button-hole he wore a magnificent white camellia, which I regret to say, I saw, admired, coveted, and determined to possess -by fair means, if' possible ; if not, by foul. This flower, too, attracted much, of his attention; he bestowed frequent glances upon it, mutter ig what I conceived to be poetry, inspired by the purity and delicacy of the flower. I was considering how I might best commence a conversation which should acquire me the good graces of this gentleman, and ulti mately make me the possessor of the camellia, when he saved me the trouble of breaking the ice by say ig: "Candidly, sir, what do you think of' my tailor?" I replied that I had not the ad vantage ofknowing him-a circum stance which I regretted the more, as his work showed him to be a man of no common ability. I added, that he was fortunate in having a client whose figure and air would set off garments, even though, fa bricated with less consu mate skill. He tried to look modestly un conscious, and said : "And who, sir, may this client be with the di.stin~gue figure and air? As you say that you do not know my tailor, I might almost fancy that your truly flattering observa tions wvere addressed to me ; but my figure, though not deformed, is small, that is to say, rather be lowv than above the average size; and as for my-air, though I flatter myself that I possess some of that je ne sai-s quoi which distinguishes men like you and me from the vul gar herd, still neither my figure nor air is worthy of the very glow ing culgoium which you have be stowed upon them. No, sir, really; no indeed, sir, really';" and he chuckled, blinked his eyes, arid cast glances on his litle round limbs of more than paternal fond ness. I perceived that ho wvas not inaccessable to flattery, and did not not despair of obtaining the camellia by fair means.. "I should apologize," said I, "for so personal a remark. It slippeC from me unconsciously; but yot must have heard it frequently from the lips and seen it in the 'eyes of ;the gentle sex. You ar Inot insensible to their witcheries I see that in your eye ; nay, thai camellia in your button-hole proves you to be0 the happy bondman o: some black-eyed houri." '-How did you find that out You must know something aboul me. You might have guessed thal ~ I was in love; but how did yoi IN"WCl, I did riot know positive ly. I thought it likely, most in accordance with eternal fitness of t things, that you, who have blue c eyes, should be enslaved by black I ones. Was I right? "Weli, I can hardly tell you ; 1 1 trust you may be right, but the t fact is, I have never seen the lady's I eves." "Never seen her eyes! Ah, I see; f a mysterious Co I r t s h i p, truly i poetic, vailed lady, gentle voice, white hand, one raven lock just f peeping from its concealment, t fairy form, taper ankles, little, tidily-iddly feet." t "Sir," said he, grasping his hand, "iwe arekindred spirits-you have t: felt the divine afiatus-you have tj struck the wild harp, and burst d into the inspiring melody of song. t We are poets, sir, brother poets. 1I Were it not a breach of the confi- s, dence she has reposed in ue 1 I would tell you the history of our loves, our hopes, and our sorro ws." b "You forget that, so long as you d conceal the lady's name, there can a be no breach of confidence. She l1 is the unknown quantity ; let X t, represent her." si "Not X; I shall have to repeat L her name so often in the course of n my narrative; she would then be- a come double, triple, or even quad- g ruplo X, and she is not stout." ti "Well, then, let Y represent i her; it is a slender and graceful n letter." "Good; let Y, for the present, jL represent, unworthily, the name of my adored charmer. I am a poet, sir, as you have already per- r< ceived, and not altogether un y known to the public; in the 'Poets' I Corner' of The Trottingbury Mer cury, exeji monumentum (ere peren- t< nius! You may have seen some of ci my contributions to that journal, %N signed 'Beta.' I will just repeat you my 'Ode to the Morning." tl "Pray, don't take the trouble; I d know the poem by heart, and re- A cited it only last week to D--, tl at the Athonutm Club. Just now o I am burning with impatience to I hear your story." f "You have read my poem, then; c I had scarcely ventured to hope o that the weak breathings of my n muse had penetrated so far as el London." p "Why, my d6ar sir, there are c: six COpies of The Trottinqton lEer cury on the table of the Athiemeum it Club, and it is difficult to get hold it of one of them ; yet no one reads p any part of it but the 'Poets' Cor- o ner'"i "Not Trottington, Trottingbury Mercury. Well, I'll go on with j< my story. One evening, I had V just finishbed my 'Imitations of fi Anacreon,' and had taken them to fi the office of The Trottingbury lEer- e cury. The last feeble flicker of twilight was about to give way to r the solemn darkness of night.- ti There was a holy stillness, a quiet 3 camn about the hour, that seemed s to sof ten the heart, to prepare it for t entle impressions. In front of the a offlce of The Trottingbury Mercury is a garden. There, roses should c vie with geraniums, the grace- la ful wood bine should twine round t the trellis-work,. and the stately r lily should be there in the pride t of her virgin purity ; but I regret e to say it is planted with potatoes.t In this garden there are two gates.r 1 was going down the path wh$h t leads to one of them, and rep eat ing a beautiful stanza of my owni composition. (I never read the works of otber people, it destroys . oiginality of thought.) As I was going d own this path, I chanced to look towards the other gate: a fairy form was passing through it. I will not attempt to describe the I beauties of that glorious vision. I 1 rushed straight across the gardent in chase; but the potato stalks. tripped me up, and I fell, sprained my ankle, and was incapacitated for further pursuit. I limped back to the office and asked the clerk-1 "'Who is that divine creature< who has just left your office ?" "'That,' said he, grinning, 'is a contributor to our "Poets' Cor ner."' "'She is a poctess, then-I knew it must be so. What is her name ?" "Won't do.' said the clerk, with is tongue in his cheek, 'she wishes to remain incog.' "Bafiled in my inquiries. I re turned to my couch, but net to sleep. That vision still haunted me; I thought of the white hand, the raven locks, the taper ankle, the tiddly-iddly feet. Evening after evening did I lie in wait be fore the office, in hopes of again meeting her; but in vain. Things went on so for a month, and every day I fell deeper in love; my appe tite diminished. and I lost nearly two pounds in weight: At length a happy inspiration came upon~ m_ _I wnnid none Qnt my soal in oetry; 1 would tell my love in he Poets' Corner' of The Trot ingbury Mercury. She was a poet ss; she would read it; the sym )atby which exists between kin Ired minds would tell her that she vas the object addressed.. I wrote he lines entitled 'A Glorious Twi ight Vision.' Never in my most uspired moments had I so success ally portrayed the inward work ngs of the tender passion, for I hen only imagined them; now I Alt them. L will just repeat you hose lines." "Pray don't, sir ; I remember hem well." "I felt sure that she to whom bey were addressed would read Lem, and reply; and I was not eceived. The next time I went ) the office, the clerk said, 'There a letter here, meant for you I ippose.' It was directed, ' eetroot, Esq., contributor to the Poets' Corner" of The Trotting .ry Mercury.' The dear girl evi ently did not uuderstand Greek, nd by the similarity of sound was ,d into this very pardonable mis ike. It showed she wasn't a blue ,ocking, and I rejoiced at it. "To iake a long story short, we com ienced a correspondence, but have ever met; but this day she has iven me a rendezvous at Pursell's, Je v'astry-cook's, in Cornhill. It in honor of this occasion that I ear for the first time those gar Lents, the fitting of wlich you so LStly admire." "And the camellia," I suggested; Jon't you think that a budding >se would be more emblematic of our rising hopes ? If so, I think could manage to get you one." "By no means; I should have )ld you that is our signal for re )gnition; we are each to wear a hite camellia over the heart." How truly it has been said that ie first step in crime is the only ifficult one I Facilis est descensus verni. I had begun by coveting ie one camellia, and resolving to btain it by fair means if possible. now resolved to resort to the mlest means, if necessary, for its apture, and to use it as a decoy to btain the other white camellia ow in the possession of the poet. as of -Trottingbury. To what a recipice was my passion for white ~mellias hurrying me! As it was essential to prove his lentity in the coming rendezvous, was evidently useless to try to ersuade him to give it to me; mv nly chance was to steal it, or take by force. Caliing his attention to some ob ets on the roadside, I dexterous r severed the stalk with a tap -om my cane, and slipped the ower into my pocket unperceiv d. I then said that, though I had ead and learned by heart the con ents of the "Poet's Corner" in Ehe Trottingbury Mercusry, it would till be a treat to hear some of hose chefs d'xuvre repeated by the uthor. He needed no pressing. With ut once thinking of his camellia e favored me with an uninterrup ed stream of poetry till our ar' ival at Waterloo Station. I ther ook a hurried leave of him, jump d into a cab, and, transferring he camellia from my pocket t< ny button-hole drove to Pursell'i o complete my conquest. We soon arrived there. Being n a capital humor, I was about t< ~ive the cabman a dotible fare 3ut what !-how is that ? I tr-ie< ny pockets one after another 1o purse. The cabman began t~ ~ye me suspiciously. "My good man," said I, 'I firn bhat I have lost iny purse, but m: >ortmanteau is a sufficient guaran ~eo for the payment of your farc Drive me to Lincoln's Ina Fields E have a friend there who wil .end me some money." The cab man saw the justice C mny remark, and drove me to Lit oln's Inn Fields, where my frien -eceived mue with open arms an placed his purse at my disposal. The journey was rather an es pensive one for me; for not onl: was my purse gone, but my wate: rd a valuable gold snuff-box. .I appeared that the poet and I ha been intent on similar designs but while my ambition extende no further than the white c: mellias, he had a wveakness for ai tidles of value and current coin < the realm. It is needless to add that I di not return to Pursell's to complet my conquest, nor have I ever agai met my friend the poet. A French lad, seven years ol< reported to have been stolen by company of mounte banks, heade bamawihawoeleg,r byn al made ih esapoe Asg, pr cauttoy aaist ecprsui by h: aton b ait wusit him hi maste~ rop e ar wih-im h wooden nron i Sharn lad 1 Miiseeies. HOUSES ON FIRE. A FEW HINTS FOR THOSE WHo LOSE THEIR PRESENCE OF 2MIND AT A FIRE. The burning of a tenement house in this city, says.the New York Times, furnished a striking a example of the. manner in which ordinarily courageous people lose all their presence of mind when in t danger of death by fire. We have all heard the story of the woman i who, finding herself cut off from d hope of escape from a house in flames, threw her baby.out of a fourth-story window, and careful ly lowered the pet kittea to the ground with a rope made of blank- v ets. It is recorded also that a I clergyman in a country town, awaking in the middle ofthe night to find his church half burned b down, risked his life in heroic ef- a forts to save the lightning-rod, fj quite forgetting that there was v much more valuable property to n be extricated from the general e ruin. When the great fires occurred t in Chicago and Boston, hundreds of personsseemed so completely to P lose control of their senses that b they would have r.ushed into the 0 flames had they not been kept C back. The "night. -of fires" in 0 Paris in 1871, when the torch of a the incendiary was applied in a hundred streets' at once, drove e many persons out of their senses. 8 The horrors of the terrible catas- 8 trophe of Fall River, still fresh in b the minds of our readers, were largely due to the temporary mad- a ness which fell upon the operatives a who, in their haste to escape from b what they feared was one impend- b ing death, rushed headlong upon t another. People who would dis- 5 play great firmness and bravery in the midst of peril by water, .or b amid the terroPs. of a railroad ac- t cident, are powerless to save even V themselves, not to speak ofothers,* l in presence of flames.t In the recent disaster in this a city, two children lost their lives ~ by suffocation. Their father and e mother, with a third child, occu- a pying an adjoining room, awoke C to find everything enveloped in o smoke, and at once ran out of 8 doors' A moment's reflection C would have convinced the hapless father that he should have aroused a the other children, and that all t should have left the house togeth- I er. But he seems to have lost all C recollection of them until he had f been in the street for some time, ~ when, suddenly aroused to a sense of their danger, he bravely rush- E ed into the flames in searchofthem. t His efforts to reach them weret vain, and he would have lost his own life, had not the policeme~n C and firemen taken courageous a risks in going after him, and drag- ( ging him back to the fresh air. ( All other occupants of the house, I on the floors above this unfortu nate family, were saved, although they did not awake until almost I surrounded by the flames, which J burst up through the planks be neath them. While the fire was in progress, half-dressed people, who had escaped, refused to take shelter, despite the intense cold, I and were with the greatest diffi culty restrained from rushing into the smoke and fire, and miserably perishing there. The same lack of presence of mind, the same ap-] parent insanity when danger is Snear, was displayed at the burn ing of the weaving factory in SBrooklyn. Fire, which broke out1 among a quantity of waste jute in -the cellar of the factory, spread rapidly to the upper stories, cut ting off flight by the stairways for 1some seventy work girls. A panic ensued, and there was danger of a frepetition of the Fall River ca lamity, when some one discovered Sthat escape was possible by jump Sing to the roof of an extension, which was not more than six feet from the windows of the second Sstory. Even this easy means of exit did Snot serve, however, to lessen the jpanic, and many of the girls were severely cut and bruised in their ifrantic efforts to get out at the w ~indows. Those who remained calm and obeyed the firemen were ,rescued without the slightest in juries. d An ounce of prevention is, of e course worth a pound of cure, and 1 it woukd naturally be much wiser to avoid recklessness in heating houses, even when the weather is aunusually cold, than to drill for daction in case of a'sudden ca lamity. Thbe 'large number of de structive fires during the past few s days has don;btless been in some s neasure-due t.te cold. weather. Overhated stores nlaced too near hin and combustible walls, are th auses of many so-called "myst( ious conflagrations." It is .in ossible to secure proper cautiol mong the numerous inmates c rowded tenement houses, or grea ilocks in which various shops an actories are situated. The "tria y fire" is one which may come t 11 with hardly a moment's warn g, and which demands coolnes nd instant action. The chance re in at least ninety cases in on undred in favor of the escape o hose who are in a burning build 3g, if they do not frantically rusl Ato, rather than away from tb anger. AN INVETERATE JOKER. If there is any person on earti rho dearly loves a joke, it is V tose, Express Agent at Louisville Ly, Not long since Mr. Rose felt il is duty to send a present to ai gent of the Company, not fai -om Louisville-a present tha rould cause the recipient to re iember the generous giver an< ause the heart of one or the othe: D overflow with gratitude. Riding along one of the princi al streets one day, Mr. Rosi eard an auctioneer just in the ac f selling a diminutive "jack-ass.' f all the solemn looking "cusses n the face of the earth, that jack ss could take the premium. He had a large head,~that look d like a child's coffin; a short tail mall body, and such "Ears," an< ch a voice! That voice onci eard, was not apt to be forgotten Mr. Rose offered a bid in fun nd was dismayed to find the jack se knocked down to him. SadlI e took charge of him and sen im to the stable-but on hearinj he voice of his pet, he at once re olvbd to send him south. Posting one of the messengeriE e. soon had notices inserted ii he papers published in the citZ -here he proposed to. send th tk-ass, and the next morninj be papers had accounts of a valu ble animal, the only one of th< :d existing,that had been obtain d by V. Rose, .Esq., and was pre ented to the agent- at--. O ourse, the agent was in a feve: f excitement, and visions of Ben al Tigers, White Elephants, &c. iossed his fevered brain. Next morning a group of friend ud acquaintances were at th rain to see the wonderful animal t the jack-ass was led out of th ar, a broad grin settled on th aces of the ispectators, while th gent was speechless with "ass onishment. The jack-ass wa ent to the stable-and many wer he inquiries made and visits pai o the wonderful animal--that day The agent first thought ho coul asily sell him and then have ood joke on Mr. Rose, but a foi ays developed the fact that n ne wished to buy him at an; rice. He then tried to give hit ~way, but no one would take hin lere was a dilemma. What wa 0 be done ? In a day or two, th ack-ass began to serenade "and b ifted up his voice," and the neigi ors heard and were distressed uch a noise had not been hear 'or years. In the stillness -of th ight, that jack-ass would holle lhe stable yard was filled ever ight with broken chairs, bed rail lats and pieces of kindling wool kysterious loads of duck shot an istol cartridges were fired at th shed, where the jack.ass was tie rhe night hostler lost his hearing ud when that jack-ass commence to sing, could not be hired to g >ut in the stable-yard, for fear being shot at or crippled by a mi ile, hurled in the direction Lhat horrible noise. An amateur singer who had ine tenor voice, occupied a roo over the Express Office and nel the stable. He was in the hab~ of singing gems from the oper at midnight, just before retirin One night he was trying a fe bars from the opera of Mardh The jack-ass heard him, and fr of envy thought he would try fe w favorite baris. The tenor sto ped and hurried to a back windo to see where that fearful noi came from. He soon located: the jack-ass was in fine trim, ai the rattling of the windows so< showed that he was doing k level best. Sadly the tenor sing shut down the window and ma a solemn vow that if a revolv could kill that jack, that o should be obtained before anoth suset, and that jack-ass shou die. The agent was in despair. A joining. i fildeas one of t lar ges t -and most fashional churches in the city, the parsc age of which was next toghe sj hle. A littlie boy who 3Q5 e there, came to the stable next day and said he to the day hostler: ".ister, I say, make that animal 2 holler. My pa can't bear to hear f him," and the little "fiend" actual t t ly danced,it1 oywrhrtrejck-t i ass struck up one of his melodies. I Next day was Sunday. The > Church was crowded, choir all in - their places, and the organist had a just played a beautiful prelude on e 3 the organ, when the choir com i menced a beautiful anthem. The f jack-ass took it into his head that - as it was Sunday, he ought to a help. He did help with a ven geance. Not much of the an- r them was heard, but a good deal a of the jack-ass was. The audi- a ence was shocked, the choir in 5 dignant, the organist enraged. The minister finished his sermon and was thankful that the jack ass had quieted down, so he com e menced the closing prayer-when a "Oh horror," the jack:ass started louder than before. The prayer could scarce be - heard. Handker- a chiefs went up hastily to devout e - faces and smiles were hidden by P a devout hands. The minister grew a e red in the face, and fairly shouted to be heard and bravely kept on - to the efid' He would willingly a have offered up that jack-ass as a peace offering. and, applied the sacrificial knife himself with pleas- b ure. Next morning a quiet looking 1 darkey came to the stable and e bought the jack and quiet once more prevailed. MEN OUT or THEIR PLACES. There is a place for every man; his own proper place, where he il - ought to be. God has designed i him for it, and it belongs to him, b and to no-one else, and every man i know and find his place if he will. t - It must be his sincere desire to be I in his place, and he must go to t God heartily praying, Lord, what c 1 wilt Thou have me to do ? Where t r wilf Thou have meto be? Let t a him surrender his own will to God's E ; will, and G6d will lead and guide - him; and he shall make no mis- 2 3 take. C - And it is a most blessed thing 3 - to he in one's own place. God v f will be with him here. He will i: r' cheer, and strengthen, and sustain - him. He may have trials; but he a ,meets them in the path of duty, ~ and God's grace is sufficient for C S him. The same compassionate a 3 God who was with Daniel in the I -den of lions, and with the three ( 3 Hebrews in the burning, fiery fur- il 3 nace, will not leave him, nor for- 1; 3 sake him. Being in his own prop- r 'er place, he may go to God with ' s confidence, and he shall be com- e a forted and supported. He shall a Sbe joyful in all his tribulation. - (Con gregationalist. 2 1There is a place fo~ every man, I Sand God intended each to find and 6 Vto fill his place. The trouble is, ( 0 most men aspire to places they V cannot fill. They want to be a1 presidents, oommodores, or cap L tains, when they are only fit for I s the ranks. Some want to be poets e or painters, when they are only e prosy pumpkins. He is the hap. I L- piest man who finds the place he - is fitted to fill, and fills it well, d however humble it may be. The e one who knows himself, his faults, P and how to overcome them-his V virtues, and how to increase them S, -who knows the uses and abuses 1. of the organs of mind and body, d and exercises them in the fear and e love of God-is the happiest man. I. ([Annual of Phrenology and Physi , ognomy. How 'rO PULL TEErH.-A pecu liar dental operation has just come under our observation. A certain citizen had an upper tooth which was loose and troublesome, so he a resolved to extract it by fastening Sa string to it; but after a trial, r finding the operation painful, he ithe hadn't the grit to grin and abear it. He thought if the tooth could be extracted by some sud wden mode, the pain would be but atransient ; and after mature de liberation he hit upon an ingemius aplan to jerk it out in a jiffy. Pro Scuring a heavy flat iron he tied it to the other end of the cord attach ed to his tooth, and then shutting tboth eyes he let the iron 'drop,' which descended plumb centre on his pet corn. After hopping about is the room, wildly, on one foot, egroaning in very anguish of spirit land reciting choice passages from er profane history he finally calmed 2down sufficiently to hurl the flat er iron over the fence, and swathe ld his sore toe in camphor and cot ton. But he pulled the tooth, and with it a piece of gum the size of d-abeefsteak. ile A modern physiologist not*s the n- extraordflary fact, that, at the a- d4gner-table,,.eyerg, time .a man ad e.enok hi e1lboW his 20t o9000. ?ERILS - OF FASHION . RE PORTING IN THE FAIR WEST. The fashion reporter of an Aus in City, Nevada, paper, describei he belle of the masq.ierade ball a the following astounding Ian. nage: "The most gorgeous, stanning, igh-toned, richest, firstest-class 3t, nicest-or any other adjective >r costume-in the 'outfit' was iat worn by Miss Frankie Clarke. he was the hifalutinest, gayest ad galussest-dressed gal in the )om. She appeared in the room s a page, and she was a page that ny man would leave another to 3ad. Both in costume and action ie was as perfect as a big sun-flow A couple of days after the ap. earance of the notice, into the litorial room of the paper stalked young man. His brow was ,rapped in thunder, his body in suit of tweed,and his hand clasp i a big lump of hickory. He ulled a paper out of his pocket ud pointing his finger to this par graph, said: "I want to see the Lan as wrote that 'ere." "I am ie individual," replied the person. What did yer go and do it for, 2at's wat I want to know ?" "0, ecause I th6ught you'd like 'to :e your girl made out one of the Lost bewitching females that was ver set on earth to keep a man -om his hash and drive balmy teep from his pillow." "Now, look ere. Ever since that was 'pub. shed I can't get a word out . on er. She sets in front of the look. ig-glass and keeps a* gazin' on erself, And makin' squint eyes at er dress, and puckerin' up her iouth, and actin' as if she were s lasted sight better'n anyboby else, - want this ere thing fixed, or here'fla an~id b2AiItatiqn ya an: He looked-significantly at he club. For a moment the repor. erstood in profound thought; then is face brightened, and he said: I'll fix it in the next week's paper. .fter you've seen the next issue all and tell me the result." The oung man left.. In the next reek's paper appeared the follow ag paragraph : "A CoRRECTION.-We made i 'rave mistake in our issue of lasi reek. In our description of the 1asquerade ball we accidentally ubstituted the name of Mist 'rankie Clarke for that of Misi -eorgia Walker. Any one wh< i acquainted with the first namnet idy must have discovered the er or. It is true'she appeared ir rhat was intended for a page, bul he looked a great deal more likt ,boot-black in hard luck. She ii ot good-looking, her actions were ,bsurd, and every man in the roon :ept as far from her as possible. ihe thinks of moving out of this ommunity, as it is unappreciative Then she goes she will be escort d out of town by a brass band ['he people of Austin will gladla niss her from among them." The next day the young mai intered the office. In his han< ie bore a rifle, and his belt was or iamented with a big six~.shoote nd a tremendous bowie-knife. ~Le sailed up to the reporter. " ook warlike, don't I? I don't fee L bit like fightin', you bet. Yol ust ought to have seen her whe1 she read that correction. Why sh lanced a jig with madness, an she sat down and cried, and the she come up and threw her arm a.round miy neck, and said :'A thur, do you love me?' 'You be your best bonnet on that,' said 'Well, never expect me to spea to you again if you don't go an kill the feller wat writ that slat der.' In course I promised. An here I[ am to kill you." He laughe long and heartily. After a tim he quieted down and the report said: "I suppose to make it a right between you and your gil i've got to become a corpse. 12 do it. Sit there a minute and I fix the business." He sat dow at a desk, and scribbled away f< a few minutes, and then returne with a sheet of paper on whic was written. OBITUARY. "It grieves us to be compells to announce the sudden death< Mr Charles Keller, the young an talented fashion editor. In a mi ment of mental aberration he has slandered an estimable, accon plished young lady of this ,cit; nafied Miss Fannie Clarke. Ye terday her betrothed called: this office and asked for the a thor of the-slander, and, when h discovered him, shot him dead o the spot. This paper will be ur able to give fashionable gossi; hereafter. We find it impossibl to fill the place left vacant -by &E1 Keller. Though, errati,g he was unan of kindly heart, anueagle l S.~. (-~ . ADVERTISINC RATESs Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.00 prsquare--one inch-forfirst insertion, and 7T.for each subsequent insertion. Double column advartismzenas tenper cent on aboroe. Notices Of &M kj;AbftjAa and taiute of respect, same rates per squame as ordinarY adverdisments. Special notices in local colma 20 cents perline. Adverdisenmbs a"t marked wilk the numi ber of insertions vMl be 'ke in: dR fortlid and t:hargeioidiWy. Special cornrzcts made: with hug avr tisers, .ihU -Pencin o ave r Done withNesmand,,D4*psd,. Terms CAs,. ten more attentively to stale sto ries, and drink more bad whiskey than any'othq' man in Austin." IL LP. "Thbat's your sort, said the in furiated lover. ,,T"Vts t6e thing to a T. Come alonk Mr. Corpse, and l ist a little lightning." The lady was satisfied 414th thea para graph which appeariDdIin the:next Ijssue -of the paper, her lover was regarded as a he.ro, and the Ausfti paper ceased to. give reprtso fhshioaablo. balls. WHAT An L GooD -Ioj0-Re member the parable, of heo talents -one had ten, another Ale ' a other two, -and another. one. S it is among men to-day., Mtr. "!W. ents" may be compAred40t~ 'un ey, with education,. acquired at, natural- gifts-, 'or with an oppor tanity,to do good. If Weu se oa.r on,two, or five Utbntil,to he best of our ability, we shall be ae ceptiad, and -earn the ipp-mftl .of Him who jadges-righteously we so living. to-day. that. Wetwa ask or hope. for God's blessipg, ou the c ourse we are 'Puz%'in?'This is our right, our 'rvilg, ad oar duty. Wemay cou~tq pss-, .ing. moments as unimiportunt,-as I ened by your own shadow."