A Family Companion, Devoted to literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture Markets &c
Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, JUNE 9, 1875. No. 23.
THE HERALD
IS PUBLISHED
EVERY WEDNESDAY M011NING9
At "Newberryq S. C.
BY THOS, Ft GRENKEKRt
Editor and Proprietor.
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r-? The paper is stopped at the expiration of
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seription.
CV !!
CREAMYY KITTY.
My heart was sound, and firm, and round,
Till I saw Kitty Lee;
But never since then has it beaten again
With a pit-pat, happy and free.
It may be here, or ib may be there,
Bat a heartless man I seem;
And it's my belief Kitty tarned a thief,
And took it away with her cream.
Her basket tight on her arm so white,
She bore to the market town,
With cream so yellow, and butter so mellow,
And white and blue was her gown,
Her eyes were soft as the dove that coos,
Her smile was bright as a beam;
But how should she know I'd a heart to
loose?
I know it went with the cream.
I often wish now I could be her cow,
Or the cream her little hands thump:
Or the three legged stool, or the butter. so
cool,
To be kneaded up in a lump;
Or I fain would ask it. to be her basket,
With good things for her to teem ;
Better still, let her sip with her little red
lip
Oh, don't I wish I was cream!
I stitl live on, though my heart has gone,
And it's not gone far away;
lor Kitty's my bank, where my treasure
sank,
To come back cent per cent some day.
In city and street, you beauty may meet,
Or of plenty in fancy dream;
Swek All the world round, but I'd still be
bound
CLOCHETTE.
-0
THE LITTLE STORY OF A LITTLE SONG.
-0
"Spinning was young Clochette,
Came a fond youth to woo;
She was a sad coquette, s
He was a lover true."
Long golden lashes fringe a pair s
of soft blue eyes ; and on the breath
of the summer night is borne, in a
fresh, tender young voice, the a
words of the little song.
The girl's eyes knew very well that
a pair of dark masculine orbs are
shining directly down upon them, s
striving to discover by flutter of
lash or tremor of lid, some answer
to the question those same brown I
eyes have asked over and over, in
their dumb, mute language. But i
the white lids are quite unmoved,
and the song goes on in the sweet,
pure voice:
"Clochette, Clochette,
You drive me far from you.
Clochette, Clochette,
I come to say adieu!" U
"Well chosen, 1iss Nelly," inter- N
rupts the owner of the dark brown s,
eyes, bending lower as he adds:
"You have selected a most appro- g
priate song for my last evening at
Cedar Croft. q,
"You like it, then ?" answers Nel
ly Allen, playing the accompaniment d
softly, and continuing in a mocking 'r
voice, "I thought it apropros ; one
who bears the title of "flirt," can, I ic
suppose, readily understand the sj
feelings of a "coquette" as well!"
"You confound or transpose the o,
positions, Miss Nelly," returned ra
Harry Rand, warmly. "I assure 13
you, it is with the deepest emotion A
of the 'fond youth' that I most sym. y,
pathize, for I, too, come to say
adieu?" Ic
"Adieu ?"-and there is a pathet- S
ic tone in her echo of the sad word. B
Then, with a quick toss of the gold
en head, and a beaming smile. Nel- ti
ly Allen changes the tone instantly s.
and answers with a little laugh: JW
"And you think I really believe i
you are going away-you, who p:
have cried 'wolf' so often that no ti
one heeds any more ? I regret that
I can show no appropriate grief at w
the announcement, but indeed I -
can not get out atear. I am not a p:
bit sorry, for-you won't go !" And h
with a dash the little white hands
fly over the keys in a wild waltz. w
A cloud gathers over the dark di
eyes, and the husky voice threatens y
a storm as it whispers hoarsely: hi
"You do not care ! And is this all r<
you will say to me, Nelly ? Am I s<
to go with no other than those 13
cruel words-you 'are not sorry ?'" si
"Oh, bon voyage, and that sort of di
thing, of course," laughs Kelly over
her shoplder, rattling on in her ci
waltz with a chaos of harmony B
which neither hear nor heed now. if
"It is you who are the most heart- ti
less of coquettes, and I shall go
and try to forget you forever- ir
adieu !" and with these words Har- be
ry Rand stalks out of the room, as tIl
stately as a prince. The hall door si
closes with a bang ; and, as though
it were an echo, the last chords of
the waltz end now in a crash, while
in the shadowy moonlight a fair
golden head may be seen pillowed h
on the piano desk.a
"What else could I say !" she ~
sobs to herself. "Does he expect v
me to throw myself into his arms
and tell him that I love him with C
all my heart, and will be his wife,
before he asks me ? If I can't be
wooed I won't be won ! Stupid fel
low, to talk in enigmas and para
bles all summer long ! Why don't
he say out boldly, 'Nelly, I love you
-will you marry me t' instead of t:
looking unutterable things not of r
his big, beautiful brown eyes, and 14
saying nothing when the time ar-r
rived to part but 'adieu?' Oh, I hate r
him-there!I" And a fresh burst
of tears showers down on the white
keys.n
Very cool and stately indeed r
Prince Harry stalks off; but there r
is a smarting wound beneath his g
armor that stings and pains beyond
relief.
"That I should fall in love with 8
so heartless a coquette !" he mutters
to himself as he paces up and down ~
the garden-walk. "She cares no
more for me than she does for the
rest of the foolish moths that flit
around the flame of her sweet
smiles and pretty ways. Girls are
cruel creatures; they play fast and
loose with a mans heart, like a cat,
trifling with a mouse ! Yes, it is
best that I should go away now
go where I shall never see her
never hear her again."
A soft strain of music floats out
on the summer breeze; and steal
ing closer to the vine-covered win
dow, Harry Rand stops and listens
to another verse of the song he
characterized a short time since as
"ver appropriate." The voice is 1
IOW 31AYOR HAVEMIEYER
TOOK HIS PIE.
The recent decease of the most
minent Mayor of New York, per
aps since De Witt Clinton, lends a
1elancholy interest to the following
icident, which occurred during
ae earlier years of my acquaintance
-ith him.
At the time of which I am speak
ig Mr. Havemeyer had been Mayor,
ut was so no longer. He ,ield,
owever, many important private
:usts, and was a recognized power
i our commercial metropolis.
One evening we chanced to be
rolling up Broadway together on
ur way to our respective homes,
ad as we were chatting along we
et a gentleman well known to us
oth, who had long been, in some
,spects, an object of sympathy to
is friends. He was of about the
%me age as Mr. Havemeyer, had
joyed in his youth the advantages
f a refined home, good schools,
ii established social position, pow
ful connections, and every appa
Int guarantee of worldly prosperity
nd success.
His life, however, had not kent
ae promise of his youth. He had
ot been prosperous at all. Though
1ading to all appearance, an exem
lary life, and seemingly indisposed
> vicious associations of every
rt, and domestic in his habits,
is life had been, humanly speak
g, as complete a failure as the
layor's had been a success. He
ad tried many different kinds of
usiness, but had not succeeded in
ny. He was always needy, and had
retty much exhausted the liberality
nd patience of friends who were
isposed to assist him, so that his
isits were rather avoided, and no
ne was exactly proud of his ac
uaintance. His dress was care
.ss and worn to the verge of shab
iness. He had a general look of
elonging to no one and of nobody
elonging to him. I will call him, if
ou please, Mr. X- .
We saluted him courteously, and
hen he had passed I made some re
iark to my companion about the
range persistence of the poor
ian's ill luck.
"X and I," said the Mayor,
used to be school-mates. We used
> carry our dinners with us to
hool, which was at some distance
om our respective homes. It was
y habit to begin my dinner with
y cold meat and bread, and when
aat was finishcd I ate my pie or
ke, or whatever delicacy my mo
der might have put into my bas
et ; while X-, I observed, al
ays began with his pie or cake,
d finished with his cold meat. I
smember one day asking him why
e ate his pie first.
"'Because I prefer to eat the
ood things,' he replied, 'when I am
iost hungry, for then I can enjoy
2em most. . When I have eaten all
iy meat, the pie would not taste
alf so good.'
"'But,' said I, 'you spoil your
ppetite for your cold meat, which
on would enjoy when hungry, and
fter which you would enjoy your
i also.'
"Neither my reasoning nor my
sample convinced him. As he
mde his bed he is lying on it. In
is youth he ate his pie and had
is sweet things; now, in his old
ge, he is worrying down his 'hard
sk' as you see. Had he learned a
ttle self-denial when he was young,
.e would not have been called upon
or so much in his old age. He
tarted life with every advantage
pparently over me. His parents
rere rich, mine comparatively poor.
le was sent to college and educated
or a liberal profession ; I was ob
iged to leave school early and earn
ay living. If he had taken advan
age of his youth and strength to do
what it was then comparatively
asy to do ; if he had denied him
elf the luxuries of idleness and ex
ravagnce then, lhe would now
ave leisure, wealth, and considera
ion, instead of being beholden to
tis friends more than half the time
or money to purchase his dinner
vith. He ate all his pie when he
ras young ; hie must sustain his
ild age upon what is left in his
>asket."
This story made a profound im
ression upon me. Though it is
wenty years since I heard it, it
e'ems to me, whenever I see any
if my fellow-creatures indulging any
aste or appetite in a disorderly
ray. I izmmediately think of what
advantage it would be to them to
earn while lads to control thezn
elves and to take the duties and
>leasures of life in their proper or
ler.-Rarper's Wee/dy.
The greatest misfortune of all
not to be able tn bear minfor
)w and tremulous andnthe words
alf sobbed:
"Silent was young Clochette,
Grieved in her heart was she;
For, though a sad coquette,
None was so dear as he,
Clochette, Clochette,
I go for love of you.
Clochette, Clochette,
She only said adieu!" 1]
"Oh !-oh!-oh !"-and sob after n
)b follow the last words, with the il
eet head again fallen low. t]
Swifter than arrow from hunter's V
:w there rushes through the dark
ess, into the moonlighted room,
tall, dark figure; and kneeling be- 1
de the golden-fleeced-hid, tear- b
ained face, a voice whispers pas- t]
onately : i
"Will you forgive my hasty tem
)r and harsh words, Nelly darling? s
nd will you believe me when I 0
y that I love you with all my a
art, and ask you to be wife? Let 1n
e kiss these tears away! Look at b
e, darling, and answer me truly: ri
ou do care for me a little, do you h
>T S,
The tears are all wiped away- e:
ie by one; the blue eyes are lifted 0
? to meet the brown ones; and a
elly answers after a little while, e
4ucy as ever: r
"Now that you have asked the a
iestion, sir, I will answer, Yes.
:ow could I answer without being tJ
iestioned, pray? Girls must be n
ooed to be won: we don't like to 1<
> men's work, if we do prate about p
ights.'" ti
"But you acted so cold and care. s
ss of my wooing. How could I h
>eak when you only mocked me ?" ii
"That is our weapon of warfare- \
ir tongues, you know!' A lover h
ust persist; a girl is never so near- b
won as when she acts as I did. a
lover must be bold; 'Faint heart,' r
)u know, and all that." a
"Then the Romans were model J
vers, when they carried off the v
%bine women, I suppose," laughs o
arry. q
"Certainly, they were; and didn't l
ey win model wives? For who b
ttled the difficulties between fhe b
Yo peoples, but the wives?-some- b
ing the men had never accom- y
ished, and never would have done
1 doomsday."
"What a dear. little Sabine youn
ould have been, Nell," says Harry, Is
-now, by way of an attempt at a
aying Roman, closely embracing
sfancee.
"And what a lazy Roman you ti
ould have made !-stopping, no si
ubt, in the melee, to tell the fa
ung woman, before you picked n
er up to carry her off, that you n
~ally meant to go back to Rome t1
me day, if she didn't come quiet- c
, and then watching to see how t1
te would take it, and setting her k~
wn if she objected." v
"That will do, I think,-let's a
iange the subject, Nelly,'' answers r
:arr. "There ! I'll let you go, h2
you will sing me the last verse of
te song I interrupted." ~ g
While the blue eyes look up, now, n
.to the brown ones, answering t1
tch all the devotion they see there, n
te sweet young voice takes up the hn
rain again and sings: '
"'Let me,' he said, 'Clochette, a
This little blossom take.'
Wep t then this sad coquette
As though her heart would break."
A "break" in the melody occurs r
are; and the pause is filled up by
sound, written for no instrument e
rer catologued ; and then two
ices finish the little song togeth- 1
"'Clochette, Clochette,a
I know now, you love me true.
C lochette, Cloctte, l1
We'll never say adieu.' "
-From THE ALDINE for April. j
S
By a recent statute in Tennessee, a
e losing party ina lawsuit has to y
ay the jurymen's fees ; and it is al- ]
aged that the juries providently f
nder their verdicts against the 1:
ichest litigants.
Every event that a man would
aster must be mounted on the e
an, and no man ever caught the s
ains of a thought except as itt
alloped by him.
A brave man thinks no one his I
perior who does him an injury, f
r he has it then in his power to 1
1ake himself superior to the other 5
y forgiving it.c
A Christian is not so much one
holooks up to heaven from earth,
s one who looks down upon earth
Lmn heaven.
Itis i~mpossible that an ill-natured
ian can have a public spirit, for
.w should he love ten thousand
ien who never loved one ?
Giving advice is many times the
irivilege of saying a foolish thing
ine's self, under pretence of hin
tering another from doing one.
A proud man never shows hisi
irid o much a. when he is civil 1
AN IRREVERENT CLUCKER.
They have had more trouble at
:ur Methodist meeting-house. Last
Sunday Rev. Mr. Moody .was just
beginning his sermon, and had ut
bered the words, "Brethren, I wish
bo direct your attention this morn
ng to the fourth verse of the twen
ieth chapter of Saint-" when a
ien emerged from the recess be.;
leath the pulpit. As she had just
.aid an egg, she interrupted Mr.
ioody to announce the fact to the
:ongregation; and he stopped short
Ls she walked out into the aisle,
;creeching: "Kuk-kul-kuk-kuk-te
10! Kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-te-ho !" Mr.
Uoody contemplated her for a mo- 8
nent, and then concluded to go on; E
)ut the sound of his voice seemed I
o provoke her to rivalry, so she C
ut on a pressure of five or six I
ounds to the square inch, and
nade such a racket that the preach- i
r stopped again and said:
"Will Deacon Grimes please re- 1
nove that disgraceful chicken from I
'he meeting house ?"
The deacon rose and proceeded i
vith the task. He first tried to
Irive her toward the door, but she I
lodged him, and, still clucking vigo
ously, got under the seat in the
ront pew. Then the deacon seized''
iis umbrella and scooped her out
nto the aisle again, after which he
bried to "shoo" her toward the
loor; but she darted into the pew,
hopped over the partition, came
lown into the opposite pew, and
in the side aisle, making a noise
like a steam planing mill. The
leacon didn't like to climb after
er, so he went around, and just as I
he got into the side aisle the. hen
lew into the middle aisle again.
Then the boys in the gallery laugh
ed, and the deacon began to grow
red in the face.
At last Mr. Binns came out of his
pew to help, and.as both he and the
d,acon made a dash at the chicken
in opposite directions she flew up
with a wild cluck to the gallery, and
perched on the edge, while she gave
excited expression to her views by
emitting about five hundred clucks
a minute. The deacon flung a
bymn-book at her to scare her
down again, but he missed her and
hit Billy Jones, a Sunday school
scholar, in the eye. Then another
boy in The gallery made a dash at
hier, and reached so far over that
be tumbled and fell on Mrs. Mis
key's spring bonnet, whereupon she
said out loud that he was predes
tined to the gallows. The crash
scared the hen, and she flew over
and roosted on the stove-pipe that
can along just under the ceiling,
fairly howling with fright. In or
der to bring her down, the deacon
mnd Mr. Binns both beat on the
lower part of the pipe with their
aimbrellas, and at the fifth or sixth
mock, the pipe separated, and
about forty feet of it came down
with a crash, emptying a barrel or
two of soot on the congregation.
There were women in that congrega
tion who went home looking as if
they had been working a coal mine,
and wishing they could stab Deacon
Grimes without being hung for
murder. The hen came down with
the stove pipe, and as she flew by
Mr. Binns he made a dash at her
with his umbrella and knocked her
lear through a fifteen dollar pane
of glass, whereupon she landed in
the street, hopped off clucking in
sanely. Then Mr. Moody adjourn
ed the congregation. They are
going to expel the owner of that
len from the church, when they dis
cover his identity.
Ta Poon MUL.-The amount of
fatigue, exposure, and abstinence
which a mule will endure, says a
writer, seems almost fabulous. Mak
ing long marches across dusty,
shadeless plains, going for long in
tervals without water and with very
little food, obliged to pull loads
sometimes amounting to five thous
and two hundred pounds up steep
hills and through heavy sloughs,
subject to cruel treatment and neg
lect from the teamster, the life of
an expedition mule is miserable
enough. No wonder that when the
mule returns he looks woefully an -
gular and thin. The poor animal
is frequently driven until he com
pletely gives out, when he is thank
lessly turned into the herd of bro
ken-down mules. There is scarcely
a more melancholy sight than such
a herd. It is a moving bone-yard.
Gaunt, lean, with drooping ears,
hips that rise like promontories
above the general desolation, a dis
consolate tail, and a woe-begone
.isage which would frighten an in
experienced ghost-the poor, bank
rupt mule is the most wretched pa
rody on gothic architecture that
was ever forced on the public atten
tion. Every .vestige of meat has
fled from his bnes. He is awalk
ing transparerjpy, an animated hat
rack ajiT Im etally seen hia
NOW 20 KEEP HOUSE ON A do
SMALL SALARY.
A clerk's wife sends to Scribner's
nagazine the following bit of expe- cy
ience, which may have A>r many of ch
>ur readers an interest both timely l
md practical:
After many years of married life
>assed in comparative affluence ho
-everses came, and my husband was tho
)bliged to accept a situation in a th<
arge city, with a small salary of ab
ight hundred dollars per year. I
elt that this could suffice for our
sm
naintenance only by the exercise
>f the strictest economy. A little de
>ver fifteen dollars a week! How .
nany times I divided that eight a
iundred dollars by fifty two and a
ried to make it come out a little
nore. Still I determined to solve Gi
Ca
,he problem of the day-namely,
a
vhether one could keep house on a
;mall salary, or whether boarding- i
iouse life was a necessity, as so0o
nany clerks' wives assert. We had
ieither of us been accustomed to
conomizing, and I felt it was but b
ust, if my husband worked hard
or his salary, that I should per
orm the labor of making it go as
ar as possible. a
Thirty replies were received to ha
>ur advertisement for two unfur- fo:
iished rooms, without board. Look- M
ng them over carefully, I selected M
ialf-a-dozen which came within our ch
neans, and started on an exploring of
axpedition. In a pleasant house W
md ~neighborhood I found a lady th
willing tq rent two adjoining rooms; gC
with closets and water conveniences, s1
For the modest sum of twelve dol- he
lars per month. In one room there br
were two deep south windows, se
where I could keep a few plants in se
the winter. I consulted my hus- l
band, and. with his approval en- fo
gaged the rooms. uC
We had one hundred and seventy- a
five dollars, ready money. With
this we bought bright, but inexpen- h
sive carpets, a parlor cook stove, ij
an oiled black walnut set of furni
ture, a table, a student lamp, a few re
dishes and some coal. With a few so
pictures, a raok of books, and some
ornaments in our possession, we g
decked the rooms tastefully, andsl
commenced the serious business of
keeping house on eight hundred f
dollars per year. We determined
from the first that we should not
have any accounts, but would pay ca
cash for everything, and when we
could not afford an article, do with- th
out it. After paying rent and wash- c
erwoman we had fifty dollars per og
month for other expenses. Twen
ty dollars of this furnished us a s
plentiful supply of food and paid e
car fare. I learned to love my w
work. Strength came with each
day's labor, and renewed health re- st
paid each effort put forth to~ make s
my little home pleasant and restful s
to my husband. And how did we G
enjoy that little home !
When the stormy nights came,
we drew our curtains, shutting out k4
the world, with a bright fire, and b~
the .soft glow of our reading lamp fo
upon the crimson cloth, reading a g
magazine or evening paper (in b)1
which we were able to indulge),
with a "God pity the poor this .N
dreadful night,"' forgetting in our le
cozy and comfortable home how y7
many there were in the great w
city who would call us poor. We he
always kept within my husband's t
salary, wearing plain but good and co
respectable clothing, and eating in
simple but substantial food. And aC
now, as circumstances have been D)
improving with us, and we are liv- at
ing in a house all our own, with at
servants, and thousauds instead of w
hundreds a year, we look back to fr
the year spent in our simple, frugal s<
little home, and know that it will tb
always be the happiest portion of at
our lives. s
CBimzm:x n DoGs.-"Dogs is w
healthy for children," says the old ai
wives, and not without foundation ca
in fact. The influence of these fo
lively and affectionate playmates of p
childhood is very happy ; sc much w
so that we have sometimes thought i
that a boy who has never had a pet T
dog has been cheated out of half at
the enjoyment and no small part of to
the moral culture of infancy. But pc
dogs have bad tricks, and unless es
properly trained, are apt to be any- fa
thing but "healthy" for children. tt
They express their affection in a tl
very bad way. We know that it is te
a common opinion that there is n
something wonderfully wholesome is
about a dog's tongue; and that his es
natural habit of licking the objects ut
of his affection is rather to be en- fe
couraged than repressed. Never- tc
theless one of the first requirements b:
n a dog for a child's pet is that he ri
be trained to emulate prudent hu- a,
manity and restrain his tongue. It
is not "healthy," whatever the old
wives may say. This, setting aside fi
teustInofrbealoee. t
th ues~o more raiesU aletoehr Of
t
A ench more common affectioR Of w
'
gs is a tape worm, for whose de
lopment both men and dogs have
contribute. Its immature or
3ticercal stage is spent in the hu
n body, often causing great mis
ief ; then it migrates to the dog,
mpletes its development, and
Lkes provision for a new crop to
'est humanity, forming eystsor
low tumors in various parts of
a body. The full grown worm is
a smallest tenia known, only
out one-quarter of an inch in
tgth. The embryo is often as
all as one two-hundredth of an
.h; yet, according to Cobbold,
%th has been caused by a single
lividn. lodged in the brain. At
late meeting of the Australian
croscopical Society, Mr. Sidney
bbons exhibited specimens re
itly taken from a human subject,
d said there could be no doubt
it they were frequently implanted
children as a consequence of al
ving dogs to lick their hands and
es. It is a nasty practice at best,
dia pet dog's first lesson should
to keep his tongue to himself.
[Scientific American.
04WO
A FEu SAmaR.-In Scotland
woman lately died whose career
s been one of singular experience
e her sex. Her name was Betsy
iller, the daughter of William
iler, a shipowner and wood mer
ant, doing business at the port
Glasgow. Miss Betsy, for she
s never married, was for more
an twenty years captain of the
od old brig Cleotus, of Saltcoats.
e received her command from
r father, who at first owned the
ig, and ended by owning it her
Lf. Her father was interested in
veral vessels which traded direct
with New York. Miss Betsy, be
re she went to sea, acted as
hip's husband" to her father, an
iprenticeship which gave her all
,cessary experience, until, finally,
r adventurous and romantic spirit
ipelled her to go to sea as a busi
,ss. Her father at first somewhat
luctantly gratified her caprice, but
on found that Betsy was the besi
d most reliable captain in his em
oy. She is represented as having
iwn remarkable gnalineations for
e position, proving to be a skill~
1 navigator, a thorough discipli
rian and an excellent sailor. Ir
>rt she filled the position of super*
rgo, and showed remarkable busi.
~ss qualifications, which broughi
e natural result of pecuniary suc
ss. She could always have choice
foremost hands,as it was consider'
a great, good fortune, among the
iors, to ship under the command
a female captain. Betsy Miller
athered the storm of the deep
en many commanders of the
erner sex have been driven to de
rction upon the rocks. Her
ry is well known in the City ol
asgow.
A SHAKER SroaR.-The Pough.
repsie Press says: A case that
L had attention from the courts
r two years was brought to a
ial settlement. The story is thus
'iefiy told:
About ten years ago a resident of
e w York city named Barber died,
aing a widow and two very
>ung daughtere. Shortly after.
ard the widow took it into her
~ad to join the Shaker Communi
at New Lebanon, Columbia
unty, which resolve she put
force, and-at the same time
leeded" her children to that sect.
uring the time that the mother
id children remained with them
Saccident befell the youngest
bich resulted fatally. She fell
om a wagon and was killed.
>me t wo years ago or thereabouts
e woman concluded to leave,
d was desirous that the child
~ould accompany her. To this
e Lebanon Community objected,
her eat the woman invoked the
d of the law, and Judge Miller
used the child to be brought be
re him on a writ of habeas cor
es. The result of this hearing
as favorable to the Shakers, and
e child returned with them.
he mother appealed to the courts,
d the case passed from' lowest
the higbest, the Court of Ap
als affirming the decisions in
~ch previous trial, which were
orable to the shakers. Thus
e matter stood for some time,
e mother yearning for her daugh.
r and the daughter for her
other. The young lady, for she
now fourteen years of age, be.
mie nervous and highly excitable
der the restraint, and at last,
aring that she would find a way
escape and possibly "go to the
~d," the Shakers entered into cor
~spondence with her mother, and
treed to surrender the child.
Our passions are like convulsion
,s, which though they make us
ronger for the time, leave us the
eaker ever after.
iip bones irreverently used to hang
;eamsters' hats on. During our
iomeward march from the Black
^ills, more than one such starved
rictim laid down his tired frame on
he earth which had refused to
ourish him, and the benediction of
soldier's bullet called the raven
nd the coyote to a meal which it
ost the government one hundred
ud forty dollars to procure.
"GOING TO MARIA."
A MAN WHO HAD EVIDENTLY TRAVELED.
Just at this time there is a lively
ompetition among railroad ticket
gents to secure travel over their re
pective lines. Rates east have I
een cut, travel has increased in: I
onsequence, and each western i
oad wants to have its full share. i
Yesterday a portly, pleasant look- I
ng old gentleman came in on the
rain from the North and started I
Lp Francis street, carpet sack in i
and. He was evidently a farmer, I
,nd prohbly belonged to the gran
ers. At this precise juncture L. j
i. Dunn, ticket agent of the St. I
ouis, Kansas City and Northern I
ine, happening to be glancing out I
>f his window and saw the traveler
vith his carpet-sack. He met him <
ialf way between Long Branch and i
he Pacific and commenced as fol- i
ows:
"Going East, sir?"
"Yes," was the reply.
"Ah! Step right up to the Union
icket office. Great through line,
ir. Land you in New York six
een hours in advance of any other
oute. Finest sleeping and dining
rs in the world. Chicken three
imes a day and beds free from
rermin. Butter on two plates, and
nolasses all over the table. Come
ight along, sir."
The innocent countryman walk
,d along a few steps, when Major
T. B. Laughlin, ticket agent of the
anibal and St. Joseph Railroad,
reeted him affectionately with:
"Going East, sir?"
"Yes," again.
"Glad to meet you. Step right
nto the office. Shortest line by
~hirty-three miles and -a half to
ew York; put you there nine
1aursg ahead of any other line. Fin
ast eating houses in the world.
Bop three times a day, and fleas
expelled from the sleepers daily.
Jome in sir."
Before the astonished country
nan could recover from his bewil
-erment at these sudden and u.nex
ected manifestations of interest in
ais welfare, Dan Mountain, of the
Eansas City, St. Joseph and Coun
Bluffs, tackled him with :
"Going East, sir ?"
"D-n it, yes !" (rather curtly.)
"I'm just the man you want to
see. Come along with me. Office
not on the corner.' Best and
hortest route by a long shot to
mny point. Put you through in a
iffy, splendid sleepers, and codfish
alls for breakfast. Conductors all
>f pious and respectable parentage,
mnd fires kept up constantly. Come
long, sir."
The unfortunate man was com
letely dumbfounded, and before
1e could recover, Laughlin had him
>y one arm, Mountain by the other,
~vhile Dunn clung tightly to the
3at-tail, and he was hustled into
the Hannibal and St. Joe office,
where another parley took place.
"What point are you going to ?"
was asked by three disinterested.
.ndividuals simultaneously.
"Goin' to Maria."
Instantly three railroad maps
were jerked out, and three pair of
syes inspected them closely. Then
each of said pair of eyes looked at
he other, and finally all centred
n the gentleman from the rural
districts. Then the question was
sked by these persons:
"Where is Maria ?"
"Where is Maria? Why, I s'pose
she's tu hum. Maria's my wife, and
lives six miles east of town, and if I
didn't want to go to her, where in
t~he h-il would I want to go ?"
Three railroad maps were put up
uicker than lightning, and in less
than two minutes' time Dunn was
seated in his office consulting an
sbominable old pipe, Dan Mountain
was busily engaged in admiring
Lou Thompson's magnificent new
factory plug hat, and Maj. Laugh
lin was calmly contemplating the
prospective arrival of the next
street car.
The man bound for Maria left in
one of Fish and Hutchinson's
sleighs.
Some old men, by continually
praising the time of their youth,
would almost persuade us that
there were no fools in those days;
but, unluckily, they are left for
examples themselves.
God bangs the greatest weight
nnan thn amalleat wires.
ADVERTISINC RATES*
Advertisements inserted at the rateof $1 .00
per square-one inch-for first insertimn, and
75c. for each subsequent insertion. Double
column advertisements ten per cent on above
N otices of meetings, obituaries and tribute
of respect, same rates per-square as ordinsrr
advertisements.
Special notices in local colnus 20 cen2ts
per line,
Advertisements not marked with the num -
ber of insertions will be kept in I forbid
and charged accordingly.
Special contracts made with Irw adver
tisers, wIth liberal deductious on &Woe rates.
Jos jWxrrAO
Done with Neatness and Dispd*.
Terms Cash.
HAND-SHAKIN.-.-How did peo
pie get in the habit of shakng
hands ? The answer is not far
to seek. In early and' barbarous
times, when every savage orsemi
savage was his own law-gier
jadge, soldier and policemoA, and,
had to watch over his own safety,.
in default of all other protectioli,.
two friends and acquaintan6*1 or
two strangers desiring to- e.
friends and acquaintances, 'When ?
they chanced to meet, offered each'
to the other the right hand;, th.
band alike of defence ad'- of
fence; the hand that 'wields the.
sword, tho dagger, the club,'Ithie_'
tomahawk, or other weapon.of*war.
Each did this to show that th6-band
was empty and that neither w -
nor treachery 'was intended.-'
man cannot well stab.- 9Dbth -__.2
while he is in the act of s4fikb* '~
hands with him, unless be-L1m.-SaT_.'
donbled-dyed traitor and.-iillan
and strives to aim a cowardly blw
with the left while giving. the right..;- -
hand, and pretending to b n
good terms with his victim
custom of hand shaking 'Pievilai~
more or less among Allc. iied~
nations, and is the tacit-f6w. lf,
friendship and good will;- just Sa -
kiss is of a warmer passio.
dies, avery one 'Must hAVe re.
-and see her in a relative instance,