The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, November 03, 1875, Image 1

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

- ADVERTISINC RATES. THE HERALD V-WEDNESAY XORnIG, BY THMS P, GREUMKER Advertisements inserted at the rate of3$1.00 P er7.fo e a bseq ner i Doub in~~~~o respect, sA ramfes Comranian, Devte to itraur,aisel conadvertisements tne etnaoe eyrtsemets not marked wih the um &-a- SpeMial oMct =&adow Mitdon of =adver Inyariabig in Advance. A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. y'te rI stoed at the expiration of Done__ __ __with____ __ _e___ _nessJo p a nd a 7"$ ,t,,,.i.,. Vo XI. WDNESDAY MORIG, NOVE~MBER 3, 1875. No . Done , eat...ndDpa A SKETCAL1 TIW sky is blue and the bright above, the trees have donned their soft gr Ad prattling o its lasy love, The river Ww.te son's CrSSe. Withia me eaoner obs wood Wher the in sines s-mt lagSIfnter, There sit a lady and a painter. ha.works the daygtides by, A~wi~~ahtMsigeshes TbW speaking,b Egsadown his brushes: ethi $stdiavel thw e site, ih'wg nedn slender, Fafs Wrough the leaves with Atfl gleam This light my skiR can catch and render. ef givmnta noht sve6frtbUtm even, path~e arth siad not h1gh Heaven." BY M. E. CHALON. faety Ore stood alone at the garden-gate. The last rays of the am were pouring their dy }idiAn4 through the green th stately tree that towered above her head, kindling into brighter bloom the rosy flush awn'herwoekgand the sparkling Wt Ier'deep blue eyes. Be w her lay a landscape of une 9lbeavAyre.glendent with the "im beaty of the reigniag bummer. But Kitty was evidently not thinking of the lovely prospect, for her changing color and ever-' lsdae o "pression told zt a abject of far deeper interest. Nei gae was directed down the rod t h a t stretched sinuously - through the shady trees toward the villag. Soon her eager ieh5lag was evidently plasur y Anded, for. in the distanoe appenred the figure of a young man rapidly approaching. She opened the gate and s pr a ng sygtto stgit himi. "h,y dar Kitty," said the young man, as they met, "you klie;fairy with that white enveloping you like a nist and the glimmer of the sun Tk ftoating about you," punctua tig Isis sentenee with kisses. laus you'll finl me e tbing far more substaatial," laughed Kitty. . 'So I perceive," sad-he, saucily, as his arm stole around her waist. - thee, they strolled ths biliiadt parterre of .itty- was the only daughter of ~ey.erchant, and had to come to Brookville to spend the smmer with her cousin, Bella .Yiatoa. Blla's home was the little picturesque cottage standing in the centre of the blooming gar Mbd wgae Sowery walks Ki&ty was now strolling. It was here she had me,a Roger Lincoln, the son of a neighboring farmer, and be fore the new moon, which lighted Kiteseganyt Brookville, had waxed and waned, she had surrendered to him her heart's best love. "So you have received a sum ins home, Kitty," said Roger, Sjtoy retired to a seat in a vine embowed sammer house. Yes,-Roger, and I must.go next MWeg4 dearestI~ will write to your father to-mnorrow and tell him of our love. I will then ac eompanyOu home and receive his. answer." *Kitty turned -,1le and heaved a tremulous sigh, for she well knew what a torrent of anger would ...esit her when her parents learn Wd>Cat she loved the son of a far mers She had not imparted her apprehensions to her lover, for she feard t pain kia "Why do you sigh, Kitty; you surely~ do not regret your plighted ?roth to me ?" "Ah, no, Roger, I was only thinking of meeting mamma, and --and-". said poor Kitty treni *bling with solicitude. "She surely will not be displeas. ed, Kitty. She does not always expec to keep yon with her." "JNo, 0 no," said Kitty, hesits tingly, still thinking of the awft eyes of mamma. Perplexed at her sudden and it expressible change of demeanoi Roger grew grave, almost sad. "Kitty," said he, taking be hand, "have you been trifling wit me." Absorbed in her thoughts c anxiety respecting the effect whic the announcement of her engag4 ment would - have upon her pi rents, Kitty failed to. notice th constratned manner of her lovei and scarcely heeded his words. "Trilled," she repeated absentlj "What do you mean ?" A cold sweat broke out upon th brow of Roger. He had a vor; jealous, suspicious nature, and th apparent indifference of Kitty t4 on a subject of such intense intez est to him seemed proof of abatei love, and perhaps of desire t, throw off all further connectioi and allegiance to him. He arose hastily from her sid and said: "Kitty,. it is as I feared. Yoi do not'wish me to write. Yol have never truly loved me. Yoi have led me to place all my hope of future happiness in your keep ing that you might in the en coldly and wantonly repulse me. He spoke in a hasty, impassionei voiee. Kitty,amazed and confound ed, said not a word, but stare< blankly at him. "You do not answer," he re.sum ed. "0 Kitty, Kitty I I cannot, will not think that you have thui basely deluded me. You loved m4 once did you not ?" "0 Roger, Roger, what do yoi mean ?" almotU gasped Kitty. " do not-anderstead." "Kitty," said he fiercely, "an swer me truly, have you deceive4 and tiied with me all this time ? Kitty's pride was touched. He t thta taunt her with such a crue question, when she had bravely dc termined to face the reproachei of her mother for his sake. Making a violent effort to con trol her rising-tears, she said, witi spirit: "You have no right to'speak tV me in that heartless manner. I cannot be that you are serious. respect myself -too highly to re ply." The demnon of doubt and dis trust possess6d him, or he woul4 have paused to consider his eause less wager, but thinking that sh proey evaded his question, hi sa dondhimaisIftohis blind paa soin and exclaimed : "Deceived! wantonly ! cruelly o Kitty I have loved you madl; -ay, worshipped you, adored yo -and this is my return ! I wa blind bat at last you have opene< my eyes to the truth. Farewell farewell forever, and may heave: deal more mercifully witf foi than you have with me," and turn ing hastily on his heel, ho rushet from her presence. Kitty half arose, and with ageu ture of entreaty strove to call him back to her. But the suddenness c the blow, and the awful words "farewell forever," ringing in he ears, so overwhelmed her that fo the moment she lost all power < speech. Tears soon mereifull; ame to her r'elief, and her whol frame shook with the violence < her suppressed agony. "What is it ?" she exclaimed," cannot understand it ! I trifle wit Roger!i 0, no-no! It is som fearful mistake. He will com again. 0, yes, he will surely com again, and all will yet be well," an she dried her eyes~and strove t glean a little comfort from th thought of his return. A week slipped by and Roge never once sought Kitty whom b had so cruelly wronged. At time he felt.that he had been led astra by his blinding passion, but the he would exclaim: "Why, then, did she not repi when I opened the way for an en planation. JNo- no--she isfalse an fickle as fair ; but she shall u< be gratified by seeing my suffe ing. I will remain away froi her presence until I can cootr< my disappointed, insulted loy She shall never know how h4 perfidy has unmanned me." Tbe .wee, w.s a period of il tense anxiety to Kitty. Uphe I by the feverish hope of Eeein him, she passed the day in eag i- expectant watching, and, disa -, pointed, she went to her bed ea< night weeping the bitter tears < r hope deferred. This continuou h suspense, together with the efo she was compelled to exert to hi f her distress from her cousin an h the rest of the family, wore upc - her health and spirits. . The little village of Brookvil e was situated near the banks of deep narrow river which flowe into the Hudson. The followin . week there was to be a grand pi nie in one of the many grov< e that skirted its shores. r The picnic had been in conten a plation some weeks, and all th young people far and near, wer merrily anticipating t h e da3 I Roger and Kitty had agreed t ) join the party, and Kitty noi a hoped that thus- they might bc come reconciled. ) The eventful day dawned brigh and cloudless,and early in the alle i noon the road leading to th a grove was filled with merry laugi i ing girls and their lovers gayl s hastening to the grounds. - Poor Kitty dressed herself i I her holiday attire with mingle ' feelings of hope and dread misgih I ings. She had made a confedc . rate of her cousin Bella, so far a I to tell her that Roger had parte from her in anger. And Bell - who saw her cousin's distress c [ mind, forebore to joke or anno i her and delayod her own depar i ure to the picnic. But as the hal hours slipped quickly by and h i did not appear, she sought he [ cousin and said: "Come, dear Kitty, you'll no - see him to-day, I fear; at least, b I evidently does not intend to com for you. Do not sorrow any mor > for him, he is not worthy of i I but put on your hat and com - with me, and have a merry da3 in spite of Roger Lincoln's neg lect." - "No, Bella," said Kitty, in a di a spondent tone, "I cannot go. am too heavy-hearted." S"0, nonsense Kitty I Don't l< him destroy all your happines Swith his folly and madness ; an -besides, perhaps he will be ther and seek you and take opportun ty to beg your forgiveness." This laat consideration decide her. Yes, perhaps he would t there, and happily there might I some chance given her to deman of him an explanation of his col duct. So, donning her hat an light mantle, she soon formed on in the gay company assembled bi neath the noble old trees. But ( what a day of agony she speni Roger did not come, and to hic her grief she had to affect a mirt and gayety that she dared n< abate. The day flew past c heavy wings to Kitty, but swiftl: too swiftly for the rest of tI party. At last some one propose to return,. home, saying that heavy shower was fast coming u pointing out a dark, ominous cloi in the west; but all rejected ti r proposal and egaged in boisterot r merry-making. They prolonge their stay until a hoarse, rumblie sound and the patter of a few rai: drops apprised them of the foc ishness of their delay. All was now bustle and exit ment, everybody striving to gath< bup his effects in haste; stumblir e over one another, and adding 1 e each others confusion. Kitty he e sought a slight eminence whic d overlooked the river. The cloui already hung dark and threate e ing and-the rising wind was las ing the river into foam. Kitt r as she gazed over the trouble e waters, discerned about mridwa between the shores a small sail-ho; y with one occupant. Hler hea n gave a bound of wild apprehensio and a sickening dread of comnir y dangersmiotOeher. Rogershekne - was in the habit of frequent: d crossing the river, for his fath< it owned land upon the opposi r- -shore; and she felt,.although si n could notyet distinguish his figur l that it was he in the boat. SI a. heard her companions call her, b r she heeded them not, and crouc ing down at the foot of a stalwa -tee sa h fastened her eyes up< d the struggling boat. Here a cou (g ple of young men found her and )r were about to expostulate with p. her for causing such delay, bat h without a word she pointed with >f trembling finger to the hapless is boat. et "Heaven!" e'xclaimed one, "he le will be certainly lost. No one d could manage a boat iM the fierce n wind and storm that will soon fa riously burst upon us." e "Who is it ?" asked another. a "It's Roger Lincoln," answered d the first speaker. "I saw him this morning, and he told mo he . was going across to-day to super a intend the cutting down of some trees. Heaven help him! for no. . thing elsecan succor him now." e The wind was steadily increas e ing, and the rain began to deseend r. in quick large drops, and they o strove to persuade Kitty to go v home with one of their num . ber. All the girls had gone but her; but she shook her head t and- gazed with a white despair . ing face on the approaching boat. e Roger % as making every effort to . reach the shore. Nearer and near er he came until they could almost' distinguish his face, and Kitty's n heart began to beat with renewed d hope and joy.. 0! the thought to .|seo him swept away from me so .suddeny and in anger ! and her ,|heart arose in agonized prayers d for his safety. Nearer and nearer a he came. A few moments more and xf the shore would have been reach y ed,and then-t,hen all in a moment, y came a wild, fearful glare of light r.fning, and a burst of thunder, ac. e companied by a raging whirlwind. r When the little party on shore re: covered from the shock and fearful t ly gazed upon the now raging riv e er, the boat had .disappeared. e Death had relentlessly swept him e away and set his seal of silence on , their unhappy quarrel. Kitty was e borne insensible to the cottage r, *of her urcle, but never awakened P- from her stupor. And when, three days later, they picked up . the mangled form of Roger Lin Icoln on the beach, whither it had been driven by the tide, her heart thad ceased to beat. They buried them side by side in the little d church-yard, whero the mournful e cypress cast its sombre shade. We find the following in an ex dchange,and trust every young man in this community will profit by a e careful perusal. Read it and then 0cut it out to hand down to your posterity : d"I know a man who is very rich now, though he was very poor e when a boy. He said his father Staught him never to play till all his work for the day was finished, Iand never to spend money till he e had earoed it. Ifhebhad but ahalf han hour's work to do in a day, he twas taught to do that the first thing, and to do it in half an hour. ~After this was done he could play, eand my young friends all know d he could play with a great deal amore pleasure than if he had the thought of his unfnished work on his mind. He says he early eformed the habit of doing every a thing in its season, keeping every dthing in. its place, and it soon be game perfectly easy for him to do so. It is to such habits that he owes his present prosperity. I am very happy to add that he delights to do good with his r riches and hi a s many warm friends. 4 To Boys-.-See here, little boys, h we want to say a word to you. Is While we are with you for enjoy 2- ment thickly sprinkled into the b- web of life, we must not forget 7, our duties as we -go along, nor d must we get things too badly mix y ed. We admire the old saying, it that there is a "time for every rt thing," we like the saying equally cn, well, that "everything should be g done at the proper time." The w idea that we wish to convey is, y that you should be regular and r systematic in your habits, and not te do in one hour what is claimed e for another. Always discharge , your d u t y fully and earnestly, e whether it be work or play, each t in its proper time. You will find 1 that this rule will make you be rt loved and respected and useful ni mmhb,-s ot soniety. QUEEN VICTORIA'S HORSES I AND CARRIAGES. An American lady abroad de scribes a visit to the Royal Mews in London, which she lately in spected under the escort of one of her Majesty's courteous gromSmen. The stables she tells us, are not so magnificent as are some of the gold and silver princes of Califor nia, being of the old style, plain and simple but kept with exceed ing neatness and perfect order. First they'saw the saddle horses used by the royal family, maids of honor and visitors at the palace. These favored animals looked fully conscious of their elevated condi tion. They are spirited, delicate, high-blooded creatures,mostly bay, with square cut tails, and groomed to the last degree of cleanliness and glossiness. In a stable by themselves are kept two small Rus sian horses of a very rare breed, lately sent to the Queen by the Emperor Alexander. The carriage horses for ordinary use are all bay, of a rich, dark shaie, and all of the pure English breed; but the horses used on grand State o casions are of Hanover stock lager, heavier, majestic and more grandiose-at least after the Guel phie idea. The eight cream-color ed horses. used only to draw the State .coach of the sovereign, are mArvols of stately beauty. The ex istence of such magnificent crea tures, fit only for show, predestin ed adjuncts of cumbrous pageantry and show-moving pomp, almost justifies royalty of the good old sort.' Next to the cream-colored patricians in honor and beauty are the great black Hanoverian horses, used for the royal family and household only on state occa sions. The harness of the first are of scarlet and gold; for the last 1 of black gold, and all regally gor geous. In the coach-houses of the Royal Mews are shown carriages of every elegant and luxurious style and shape, but the great show of all is the Queen's atate coach. This, kept apart with a special attendant, is a mighty af fair-the House of Hanover on* wheels.- It is more than twelve feet in length and~lofty in propor tion ; it has all sorts of royal em blazonry-gorgeously p a in t e d panels, great, gilded figures of Tritons blowing gilded horns, and is altogether imposing and resplen dent with gold and glass, scarlet velvet and satin cushions and cur tains. This was built for~ Kirig George III and Queen Charlotte.1 It is a cumbrous old thing, and comes out at coronation times, and sometimes,but rarely, for the open ing and prorogation of Parliament. The good, motherly Queen dances in the hall of Balmoral with her retainers and household servants, makes her own tea when out on pinics, spinsin the cottages of her tenants, and has herself photo graphed in the gracious acts-be stows "warm dlannel petticoats" on poor old women with her own hands, and tells ns all about it in her own book. The Prince of( Wales goes everywhere, dines with everybody and drives a drag for all the world as if he were no greater man than the President of the United States. The new court dress for gentlemen is a simple1 half-military costume. Gaudy liv eries are going out in high places, so that lackeys look less like boil ed lobsters and lizards than for merly, and it is thought that ere long the royal state coach will be remanded. Tritons and all, to that Valhalla of state coaches, the first hall in the Kensington Muse- 1 um, and the monarchs of England will cease to lumber along on wheels like those of Pharaoh's chariot, but may drive through the streets of London, even on the grandest state occasions, with celerity, comfort and quiet ele gance, like other sensible, well-to do folk. A young man in Lancaster sent I a dollar to a firm -in New York who advertiseda receipt to preventa bad dreams. He received a small slip of paper, on which was print- 1 ed, "Don't go to sleep." < DR. PIERCE ON PIN-BACKS. The venerable Rev. Lovick ?ierce, D. D., has a long "Farewell Lddress to Ladies," in the South- " irn Christian Advocate,- in which t4 le thus forcibly and appropriately Be >ays his respects to the abomina- U) .le style of pin-back dresses: - C The graduates of the Wesleyan d( Female College have fully verified ct 11 I ever plead in woman's favor c a to original mental endowments, out. have utterly failed to establish i0 he moral evidence of agreat mind, ti y the despising of little things, ti specially ridiculous fashions, than vhich nonW more so has ever " lishonored your sex than the pres- ' nt pin-back fashion. Since 1807, th 6t which time I was stationed at a Lgsuta, and when tight dresses di on young ladies was carried so ar that covering all they aimed "I t concealment was ignored.- o] rhis outrage upon womanly pro- y riety went on until the lacerated I ense of female modesty left to the urviving matrons of the day, L nd the disgust of gentlemen C vho had a much higher sense L f woman's place in society than naking herself the amusement " f libertines, arrested it by unmis- N akable denunciation. T h e s e f hamefuldresses were made tight ti vittingly. The pattern was as 01 cant as the dress. But now, 19 fter the advance of mental culture h or sixty-eight years, all that the ashion-following women h a v e tl ,ained, is plenty of goods for a a all flowing dress, but pinned-back a vithout any grace, for a graceful pinning back, every candid woman fs vill acknowledge, is a natural im- l *ossibility. Hence, to make tight, d o as to meet the most ridiculous leniand of fashion ever imposed i in women; it is by pinning back A grid otherwise ample dress, so as o force a covered display of close J vrapped joints and ankle. So has his mania seized upon our women, 0 hat even elderly ladies, that could ti kot brook so glaring an exposure, h vill nevertheless pinback a little. P ow is this? Why is this? There i s not a lady in Georgia in whom a he normal has not been sacrificed b; is an offering to the abnormal, o0 mut what will admit this pinning U >ack of dresses up to the tight >oint is the most supremely ridic-. ilous and ugly fashion ever taken it in by our cultivated ladies. WATCHING ONE's SzrP.-"When ei :was a boy," said an old man, "we it iad a schoolmaster, who had an C idd way of catching the idle boys." C "One day he called out to- us: t Boys I must have closer attention r o your books. The fir-st one that ti es another idle I want you to in- dL brm me, and I will attend to the o1 ase.' .lh "Ah I" thought I to myself, b there is Joe Simmons, that I-don't fI ke. I'll watch him, and if I see ' ~im look off his books, I'll tell." u, "It was not long before I saw oe look off his book, and imme- u: liately I informed the master." ~ "Indeed!" said he, "how do you 01 now he was idle ?"- o "1 saw him," said I. "You did ? And were your eyes it in your book when you saw iim ?" "I was caught and I nev ir watched for idle boys again." ti If we are sufficiently watchful ti ver our own conduct we shall ~ ave no timie to find fault with ~ he conduct of others. SEASONABE.-If y o a havn't nything on your mind, and your r ars are open to catch sounds of a: norning life, you will see his wife u llow him down to the gate and h ear her call after him: ci "Don't forget to bring up half a p mushei of peaches!I and can't si rou get the plums,too? And there's ! he sugar-get ten pounds. Oh, " res! I want a gallon of vinegar, p ind some brandy. You may bring u ip two melons, and the cloves, n' :innamon and nutmeg. Hold on, E lenry! Don't forget the half- I shel of pears. I must have 'em o-day. And while you are at the narket, why not bring up the Si- F erian crab-apples ?" He gets half a block away, and 0: he aises her voice and calls: o: "Oh, Henry! don't foget to bring C ip three dozen quart eens as you ci A JOKE THAT KICKED BACK. C6 They are telling a joke, writes 91i Perkins," on Charley Backus -day. Charley tells it on him- lin 4f, too. It seems Charley drove it through Stamford. Conn., yes- ck rday, with Lem Read, of poor c bad Dan Bryant's Minstrels, for a ompanion. As the train got ready - leave, Charley says: "Lem, let me show you a good ha ke-I'll get a splendid joke on at old duffer sitting in the sta Dn. Now you watch " Then as the train began to ove out slowly, Charley. rushed to the station, shook his fists in te stranger's face, and called him it miserable, mean, thieving scoun el. "0, you rascal !" said Charley, I> ['ve got you at last you bloody d seapegrace, and now I'll lick ph )a to an Inch of your life. "Charley I Chrley 1". shouted em, "the train is off-ran I" and barley left his astonished victim id rushed back into the car. "Where! wherell is the man ho wanted to lick me all over ew England ?" shouted the old os rmer as he ran to the door of of ie station with his spectacles in. e hand and a crumpled Tribune b theother. "Whereishe-show m to me !" th "Here he is," said Charley from M e end platform of the last car it moved out, holding his thumb id finger to his nose. "Wall, here I am-" said the old tr rmer, shaking his fist at Char- u y,."and I'll be goll blasted, ef I a Wnt lick h-11 "Ding1-dongl-rdingl-dong ." terrupted the locomotive bel, bf ,a- th, Alas for Charleyl the train icked back. The outraged man i the-station robbed his eyes,went or it on the platform, saw Charley wi trough the window, and went for e m. Three times he chased the )or, misguided minstrel around e train. He finally aught him, ke id the poor. man only escaped a y leaving an $8hat and thelapels ml ~a$60Ocoat inthe outraged far- it er's hands. am How THEY LwARN.-The rapid- bi~ y with which females adapt ro emselves. to the circumstances ni ad fashiouns with which they are N rrounded, and especially the se shious, 'is simply marvelous. i no Monday a lady in a Western th ty, who employs several domes- so es, got a new table-girl, just ar- de ved in the- city from rural dis- a its-a bright-.eyed,rosy-eheeked th Lamsel who blushed whenever any , the male members of the house- g ld looked at her ; a girl whose at ir was combed smoothly back t om off her tanned forehead; uz hose dress had sleeves to it, came p to her throat and down to her et. ,On Tuesday her hair went ml Son to the top of her head, and he as coiled up over a-somrething; hii i Wednesday she cut the sleevea ha f her dress, turned it in at the st troat, pinned it back and humped out behind, and could look all be ie men in the house square in ie face for half an hour without ae hue of modesty showing arough her chalk complexion, at hursday she completed her degra- u~ tion by cutting off all but an a 1 Lh or two of her front hair-.p A boy of five years was "playing tilroad" with his sister of two so id a half years. Drawing her re pon a footstool, he imagined yc iself both the engine and the G< nductor. After imitating the th affing noise of the steam, he of opped and called out: "New ork," and in a moment after Patterson," and then "Philadel- mi dia." His knowledge of-towns foi as. now exhausted, and at the Gi at place he cried "Heave.n." p~ is little sister said eagerly, "Top, des I'll dit out here." A traveling item says that the su rincess Louise, wife of the Mar- a is of Lorne, is executing a bust he Sher sister-in-law, the Countess Percy, to be placed in Aluwick a st 1e, Northumberland. She in )mes of dartistic family;i Wales gc adindthesome on busts. ev His COCOANUT.-He had seen coanuts before, but never had e in his hand. The old woman in the wagon ad held the es while he entered a grocery d purchased one. They turned over and over, and regarded it sely anad enriously, but drove meward without asking any estions. Next afternoon the old mae en ed the grocery, cocoanut in nd and inquired: "Is this a reg'lar cocoanut ?" "Yes, and a good one,'too," re ed Me ktooer. "Wal, the drned thing has bust me, and it's a heap too mach e the old woman; we've turned ovei more'n a hundred times, d blamed if I can find thehges. here in thunder does the un ,k?". When the amused grocer e1 tined matters, the old man look crestfallen, and turned away th the remark "Durned if I knowed any more'n raule " The following is an acknow Igment of a wedding notice and nerous allowance of wedding ke, by a classical rural professor 'Typography: "We make our most respectful to the happy twain.and [ the portunity to return thaniks for is almostunfled actof liberality. y the matrimonial chase which *s theform of our brother typo, ;tify all his preconceived impres ns. In whatever I of the eou r he may roam, whether calle on to face the -ing waves of verse fortune, or stand before e it and Ul of enemies, may vfilb besu&h thet-t66'Uew death shall be laid on hin, and e . of his existence draws to a Oe, le may prodeSele" prof, d claim a clear tie to an hon oble I in the page of history,as l as to an eternat inheritance ynd the *." An Englishman said to a Yan e: "Don't you ever 'ave any ka in your country? don't we mber seeing any. KW strange is to live in a country without yanks!" "Auksusks?" replied e other. "O), yes, I see. .Big 'ds; little wings; sits on the ek in a row, like Dandreary's ghtshirts; dives after fishes. >; don't know as we have any. me, perhaps,'in Alaska; thrown Lo the bargain when we bought e country." "Nejbing of the t," replied the other ; "you n't understand. I don't mean big bird with little wings, at dives after fishes. I mesa auk-a small bird with big gs, that goes after the N's." , I see. Yes, we've plenty of em. You m ea n a hawk." rll, I said an auk, didn't I." H A R D -ro TZr.-Yesterday >rning when a man entered his use after an all nights' absence, i lothes covered with blood, his ir covered with grasa, his wife irnly asked: "Now then, where have you en all night?. "Whirivi' bin ?' "Yes, sir." "Well," he replied, looking down himself; "You can call it blode on a steamboat, or run over by rnady-I ain't a darned bit rticler which."' George. "Oh, I love the park !I prefer it to Switzerland, ily." Mabel. "Why, George, 've never been to Switzerland." orge. "No, but I've seen it on a map, and I don't like the look it atalL" A California paper says: "The kmen of San Francisco have smed a mutual aid association. e holds thie can while another mps." "How -odd it is," said Pat, as he idged along on foot, one hot, try day, "that a man never etsaocart going the same way Tere is noparticularadvanitage catching a weasel asleep. A od wide awake weassi answers ary purpose.