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. . < ' i i r i ? THE TRIBUNE. ' : ? "<? qjri ^Wffi VOL. I.?NO. 22. BEAUFORT, S. C.. APRIL 21, 1875. $2.00 PER ANNUM. The Lesson. [ A beautiful answer was given by a little aj Scotch girl. When her class at school was examiucd, she replied to tho question, " What is ^ patience ?" " Wait a wee. an' dinna weary."] A villago schoolroom?this tlie scene? li Aglow with a slant sun cherry; ai The dominie there, of youthful mien, With tho sum of his spirit sharp and keen, si And a class of girls in serried row; S Borne taller, and some of stature low ; b And some, like tho morning sun, atiro To reach the summit of bravo desire ; r< And, as aye, some unoo' droary ! ^ 1J "J cauna an' winna teach, an' ye Q Bae stupid the while I query? Nuo vision foi* ocht but vanity!" v With thundering rap the dominie b Out-blnrtcd, chafed by a listless girl, li . Whose only caro seemed to smooth and twirl Her apron streamers. " Will onio lass 11 Mali' nnswer in a' this glaikit class The dominie eighed aweary. "Oli, av," said a little 0110, " I can tell." "Weol, cat wi't, then, my de&rio"? 0 And the frown from the master's forehead fell, rc For the sweetest girl in tho school was Nell? H) ' I want ye to show mo tho meaning plain 8j O' patience; sin' ow'r an' ow'r again jJ I've pat it this day S" Then tho little maid, With & roguish twinkle, soberly said ; ^ " Wait a wee, an' dinna weary." e; ?Mahy B. Dodge. \* JERltY, THE MISER. It was a cobbler's shop, breaking the row of small private houses in a shabby b suburban street. How it came there t] - nobody knew. What is more, nobody w cared. h Near the door, on this particular afternoon, were two females, the hue elder- tt ly, the other graceful and young; both iu tho deepest mourning. In front of *t it were two Loudon street Arabs, as rag- _ ged as mirthful; before it stood the oddest beiug imaginable?a little old e4 man, about four feet high, with a not ^ over-clean face, iron-gray liair, on which l 1 * - " ' U xcnteu u worn Hiiin cap, snaggy brows, rather bow legs, and a dirty leathern ^ apron. In irate tones, ho was addressing boys: ^ *' Oil with you, you young rascals !. If _ you come playing your hopsootch and Sally-come-ups before my window again, ^ I'll flay you alive." Before the muscular fists the boys 0] fled,' hurling book derision. "Well done, CJ Jerry?old .Terry the miser! Yah 1" The cobbler?for he hardly merited n the more emphatic title of shoemaker? yi paid no heed, but, glancing sharply up a] from his bent brows at the two women, asked: "And what may you want?" "We?wo see," began the younger, looking timidly towards the square card -y in the window, "you have apartments to let." " No, I've rooms?rooms. I don't e, know nothing of 'apartments;' I ain't up to them?nor the rooms ain't neither, Do you want to see 'em?" 1. " We did wish." ai "All right; come along!"?and tho w little man swung round on his heel. The two women, hesitating, looked at one another. "We had better see them, mother," said the younger, with a wan smile of w encouragement. " His bark may bo worse than his bite, and all the other w places are so dear." Following the cobbler through the c! fin op, lie led them up stairs to the rooms. There were two, communicating by a ~ door with evch other; they were poorly ' furnished, but clean. As tho women " looked at them, the cobbler stared at them siloutly. ?( "Well," he asked, "what do you think of them ?" f "They will do very well," answered " the widow. " It's?only?the price 1" " Six shillings a week?in advance." w "Six shillings !" ejaculated the girl. " Do you think it too much f" Jc " On the contrary, it Is cheap." b " You know a lot of the world to say w that. How do you know I shan't clap w on another shilling?" J1 "I don't; but I should not fancy you " would." c< " About references"? began the r< widow. " Don't want any?yon pay in ad- w vance; and as, whenever you leave the house, it must bo through tho shop, pi you can't w<rll take the furniture without " my knowing. Is it settled ?" ct " If you please; hero is tho first week's pi rent." The cobbler took it, scrawled out ft re- w ceipt, nodded, and left his lodgers to w themselves. Seated again on his bench, meditatively, lie scratched his grizzled tr chin, and contemplated tho six coins in | y< ills horny palm. " Two bobs n week lost to-day 1" he I' remarked. " Jerry, you miBer, how ci could you do it i" si The cobbler's lodgers proved very m qufet. 'They did not interfere with their it landlord, and he, apparently, did not in- pi terfere with thein. His rout was paid to m the day. J^Thoy rarely spoke, save exchanging tho ft ordinary morning and evening salutu- ir. tions wneh the daughter went through 3< tho shop. The mother never left tho house. Hut Jerry, like most cobblers, s] was a man of observation, and he mode ci such comments as the following : g "She's ft beauty, she is; but awful g white and sad. It's my opinion it's hard t1 times with them up stairs." ti Then, when the girl went out earlier tl and came home later, ever with a sadder, I more depressed expression, he said : h "I'll tell you what it is, Jerry; she's seeking after work, and doesn't get it!" a One evening, a fow weeks after Mrs. p Woston and her daughter rented tho cobbler's npartmonts, tlio latter entered t he shop later than usual. p The yellow lamp was flaring dismally ud .Terry, a boot on his knee, was har t work. After the customary salutation lio girl was passing 011, when the col ler's voice arrested her. " I say, your mother's ill, ain't she ? e asked, nursing his kneo with hot] rms. ' Yes, Mi*. Crayshaw, I am sorry t iy she has been for some while ailing lie?she"? and the young voice trexi led with tears?" is very sick." " Then you must give her lots to eat, ?sponded Jerry, staring out of the win ow. " The best thing for weak peopl i a nice fowl and a bottle of wine. Wh, on't you give them liorf" " I wish I was able, or even to pre ide her less expensive dainties; butut"? aifcl the tears fell fast? " I can ot." " Ah, that's the fault, you see, of lia\ lg no money. Good evoniug." He resumed his work, and tho girl jarcely cheered by this little episode. rent, with a heavy heart, up stairs. Mrs. Weston was so ill, she was lvin ii her bed. Tho caudle was in tli iom, and in tlio parlor grate burnt a fe' parks of lire, over which was a smn mice pan. On the table was a tea-1 raj ad a portion of a previous day's loaf b was such a depressing welcome hom fter the weary, weary day, that wit! ifficulty tho poor girl could control he motion. "Is that you, Clare?" inquired th idow's feeble voice. "Yes, mother." " Come to me, my child." Clare pressed her white hands to he osom, made an effort, aud passed iut re bedroom. But tho mother's firs ords beat down all her noble-souloi eroio self-repression. " Clare, dear, you had better succes >-day ?" The girl dropped on a chair, and bury lg her face on the coverlet, burst into aroxysm of weeping. "No, mother," she sobbed, liysteri illy. " It's the same old, old story ; in get nothing. What shall wo do ? 5el heart-broken." "Clare, Clare, my child," ejacnlate* 10 mother, fondly embracing her, " d ot you give way ! What, indeed, wi] ecome' of us then ? My brave, brav irl, do not weep thus !" " Pray let me; mother ; I shall be bel ir after it." .She, apparently, was right, for at th ad of a few moments she looked u; ilmcr ; her tears ceased. " There," she smiled ; " I am bette ow. '' It's good to give way at times ou know. At least, one can't help il ad our lot is so hard ; but we shall gc Bed to it." " Hard ! It breaks my heart to con miplate it when I think of you, Clare irhut a different future did I and you ither intend you, love! But who couli nogiuo such a villain as John Burg rer existed?" " Ab, me?all, mo! to look round n lis place, and remember the pleasan oino which once was ours ! Now, w e alone, and not a singlo friend in th orhl." "Not one ! Oh, yes, mother, believ e, one 1" cried the girl, quickly. " H ^Gilbert?will bo true?trust me, h ill." "Why then, Clare, lias ho no ritten?" "I do not know?I cannot tell," ej aimed the daughter, piteously; "bui li, pray, pray, mother, do not take tliu ope from me! Let mo believe i rilbert. It is my only support in thi itter misery 1" The widow, touched with a pleadin juntonance, was about to reply, when tterrupting herself, she said: "Clare hear some one in the parlor. See wli is, dear." The girl obeyed, and started at th eird scene she beheld. Seated before the grate, on a thre< gged stool, was the cobbler, yet i ather apron and cap. On his knee as a bellows, which ho was work in ifli oAiianmiiiof/i air* II WM vwwv?iwM?aw\7 nnui, V lllCilLJ V lastor of the art, sending the coals iut right blazes that threw flashes of luri )lor over the quaint flguro and th >oin. Upon hearing Clare, he turned, ulraoe ith a snarl. "How do you expect to t>oil a sau?f m with such a fire as this?" ho growletl Never was hatter as mad as yon, I'd irtain. Now, look at that; ain't it icture?" Clare did look, and saw that not onl ere the coals increased, but that the; ere not from their own store. "It is quite cheering," she managei ? say, " but?but I fear, Mr. Crayshaw iu have been robbing yourself." "Itobbing myself??me??not a bit m a miser. .Didn't you here the boy dl mo so?Jerry, the miser?" h lapped. "I'd robanybody sooner thai lyself. I am a miser, and I'm proud o Some men are called painter am act. Well, I'm called cobbler am ?? " Really L" said Clare, a little amused little frightened, looking at the glow ig cools;' 'I should have scarcely though "That shows your ignorance," re londed Jerry. "Can't you see, b limitation, it s cheaper to keep up on ood tire than two small ones? so I'r oing to sit by yours. Also, olubbiuj vo persons' tea together is cheaper thai iking it alone. It makes 'only one fo io pot * necessary. You percuive, now am a miser. I want to havo my te ere." Clare looked at the table; upon it wa now loaf, fresh butter, eggs, and n nea ackage of tea. " Oh, Mr. C rajah aw "? sho began. "Are yon going to refuse?" he snap cd. " ^Mayn't I havo tea ?" , j "How could I refuse?" slio begun, 1 I wlieu he interrupted by: , i " Then don't lone time. See to the - kettle. I'll boil tho eggs." | Similar behavior from some people ' ! might have given offense, but there was li such a quaint, odd way about Jerry that | robbed it of that power. He was so old, 0 | and snapped and snarled as if really his , ! suggestion was the result of deep-rooted [1 j meanness, instead of the contrary. Mrs. j Weston did make some demur, but Jerry ? ; shut her up at once. "I 6ee. She's frightened at yojir e taking tea with such a fascinating young y fellow as lam,", he said. "Leuvo tho door ajar, then the old lady can take a squint at us now and then, and join the _ talk. I'm a wild young sprig, I con_ fess." Clare could not refrain from bursting r_ into a merry peal of laughter. Jerry's | gray eyes* iwiuaiea witu aengnt uncler [ i liis shaggy brows as he looked up at her. ( Well, the two bustled about, the cob' | bier certainly the briskest, until, finally, p I they were seated at a very comfortable 0 ' tea. During the meal, Mrs. Weston iV | deemed it right to inform their new II ! friend of something of their history. r In her husband's lifetime they had f* been well-to-do. At his death they q yet could have lived comfortably, had h not a Mr. John Burgo suddenly brought ir heavy claims on the dead man's property. "1 never quite understood what it was e ?I only know he must have been paid," said the widow, dolorously. " But wo hadn't some papers we ought to have had to prove it. So ho took from us ir every penny, and left us as you now 0 see 1" "A confounded villain!" exclaimed ,| Jerry, cracking Iris egg with a bowl of a spoon, as if it had been Mr. John Burgo's 3 bald head he had got under it. " Then all our friends deserted us "? "Except one," broke in Clare, with heightened color, which was not un11 noticed by the cobbler. "But one as yet," added the widow. :jl " He is a gentleman, Mr. Crayshaw, T who?who was once a great friend of my daughter's. He was in Australia at the . time of our trouble, and though we wroto to tell him, we have not heard a 9 syllable since. You know the world, Mr. Mr. Crayshaw!" 0 "Ido, ma'am !" answered Jerry, emphatically; " and I know it's a sight betr ter than people would try to make it." "Ah!" cried Clare, gratefully, her e face radiant, as involuntarily she exteudP ed her hand, " you think he may be true ?" r " He'd be the greatest villain under ' the sim if he were not, my dear!" said 1 the old man, cheerily ; adding to him - sen: i'oor cliild?poor child; she, then, has to leam that lovers' vows are J" easier broken than shoestrings, and ' thought about as little 1" ' After this, still protesting it was cheaper for him, as a miser, to supply Mrs. ? Weston's tire than burn one of his own, , he frequently passed his evenings with ; them. He also procured Clare some shoe-binding to do, which, though 0 hard and difficult work, was something. 0 At the end of the week, he was grimacing at a boy through the boots in the 0 window, when Cloro came to pay tho e rent. o " Take it away," ho said; " let it stand over." t "Oh, we could not think of that!" began the girl. " We were going to ask - you if you would not mind a portion of it being left for next"? t "Take it away !" reiterated Jerry, getii ting into a fury ; "I won't touch a farths I ing ! I like being a creditor?for I can charge interest !" g '' This kindness, after all you have i? don<?!" sobbed Clare, her tears falling. > "Go away!" roared Jerry ; "I ain't O going to have a scene here?they'll be taking me up for assault and battery o next 1 Be oil, and I'll bo up to tea in live minutes." i- " Bless your generous heart, which no 11 assumed roughness can hide!" exclaims ed Clsiro, gratefully, as she hurried from f? the Rhop. 11 Bitting down, Jerry bent his head 0 on the counter, and bright tears trickled J from his eyes into the boot on his hip. e " Poor thing?poor thing 1" he murmured; " she's yet to learn that vows it are broken easier than shoestrings, and "? i- He was interrupted by the shop door [. opening. Looking up, lie found before a him a tall, well dressed man, with a a bronzed face and thick beard and mustache. Jerry started, y "Pardon iny iutrudiug," said the f stranger; " but can you give me the address of Mrs. Weston ami her daughter ; 1 I heard they were living somewhere in , this street ?" "No!" said Jerry. " What do you want with 'em ?" s "Thev are friends of mine." 0 " Bwells such as you don't often, I ii should think, lxavo friends in this neiglxf borliood." ;1 i "In tholand I came from, friend, the 1 ! rank is not the guinea'sstamo. lint T'll seek elsewhere." 1, " Stay a moment; I'll inquire." - Jerry, carefully closing the door bot hind him, Hat down on the stairs and enjoyed a muto chuckle, fearfully apopleci tic in character. On tho landing ho y repeated it, with much movement of e the legs. Then ho entered his lodgers' a parlor. of Dropping into the chair placed ready n for him by the Are, rubbing his knees, r his face one beaming smile, he cried: -, " Does any one believe in man ! I don't! a Does any one believe in Australian golddigger* ( I don't ! Does any one bes lieve in lovers keeping their vows ? Lor' ,t bless you, I don't?not a syllable I" Then, turning abruptly to the astonished women, ho proceeded: "Look here; ?- I'll give you a riddle. Suppose a certain Australian should come to England; suppose he should como to me; supposing he should come iuto this room, how would a certain party behave f Would , slio laugh ? Would she faint {" " Oh, mother !" cried Clare, starting i up; " I know what he means. It is Gil- , i bert !" 1 " My dear, reflect," interrupted the , i j widow, restruiniug her. , j " Yes, she's right 1" exclaimed Jerry, j with a caper. " It's Gilbert?Gill>ert!" ] j Flying to the door, almost precipitat J ing himself over tho balustrade, he , 1 shouted: " You Australian, come up ! ; ' You nugget of fidelity, come here 1" : i I There was the bang of a door, a firm, j nipid tread on the stairs, and tho , bearded stranger shot past Jerry into the room. j "Clare?my poor, poor Clare!" ho dried. , "Gilbert !" r.ho ejaculated, rushing , into his arms. j The cobbler, after another caper, dis- ; erectly retired to his shop, and let off his j superhuman excitement by a charge at ( the boys in the street. , t Gilbert Feruside, a rich Australian , ?Jattle-owner, proved indeed a nugget of fidelity. There was a grand wedding, j to which Jerry was asked, but he j answered ho was far too wise a man to make himself uncomfortable. Indeed. lie sent tin bride n pretty gold bracelet as bis wedding gift?a present affection- , atoly treasured by Clare. Years after, the young wife, in her home at the antipodes, received the fol- ^ lowing characteristic letter: " My Deah?While writing this I'm ' going off. Wheu you get it, I shall have I left. So this is to say good-bye. Bless 1 vou ! I am a kiuless old man, and, you ' know, a miser; but I'm not going to give { my money to you. What would ?1,000 ] be to your Australiau digger ? A drop : iu the ocean. Besides, you can do with- 1 out it. No; it's going to the hospital < for children, to which I have long been 1 nu unknown subscriber. Good-bye. 1 Bless you?bless you all! Your old 1 fricud, 1 " Jerry, Cobbler axd Miser." That letter, too, was treasured; and m the heart of the bright, cheerful home, ( iu the wealthy laud, " Jerry, the Miser," was ever held in choerful memory. j 1 The Emotions of a Pauper. i It lias been noted that a certain des"" perate, but calm, stubborn and sullen air of resignation appeared to settle upon paupers who have been for any length of time attached to couuty poorhouses. A man ouce a pauper, seems scarcely ever to rise above the humiliating position and settles down to it, as if he had gone contentedly ' * over the hills to the poorhousc," and had lost all ambition to go beyond it. Recently, a , Chicago paper, desiring to know some- , thing of the interior of the poorli?use j of Cook county, sent up a reporter, as a , county-house vagrant, and ho was there . ! threo days. In an article on the subject ( he says: It is curious to reflect upon how easily j ; one may be influenced by his surround- . ; ings. For that matter, wo aro all more ^ : or less creatures of circumstances, grow- ( j ing up according to tlio character of our , i birth-place in life. But, even after liavj ing become thorouglily accustomed to , I ami laeutinea witii our station unci mode ( of living, a change of place and associa- . j tion will eventually alter our whole prin- ( i ciple of action, our ideas, and our char[ acter. So frail is the human mind ! , Living among paupers during three days, [ imbibing their sentiments, sharing to j ! the full their discomforts and their sor- , i rows, I began almost imperceptibly to j i think of myself as really one of them. ( , At first I had been obliged to exert my- , j self to act my part; gradually the task j became easier; till, finally, I found my- ] j self almost wondering whether I had ] I ever been anything elso. What was this . 1 powerful yet slender bond winch united ( ; me to the outer world ? How frail the , ; barrier, undistinguishable to any save j myself, which separated me from these wretched outcasts about me! It seemed as if the slightest of agencies might snap them both asunder, and leave me 1 a pauper in truth. Hearing the tyranni- ] | cm voice oi tne Doss pauper," 1 mvol- J j untarily shrunk hack with a shadow of * ! tho torror which, hohl my associates. I ' j knew, of course, that I need have no 1 ; apprehension, ami that a motion from me would transfer me hack to tho world. Yet, s?ch was tho influence of surroundings, that T was subject to tho emotions I have described. Estimates and Cost of Public Works. The canal question before the New ; York Legislature has called attention to the cost of public works. To show tliat tho actual cost of all great works, not only in New York, but in other States, has always been enormously in excess of the original estimates, Mr. Alvord asserted that the original estimate for the Erie canal enlargement was $12,000,000 and the actual cost $14,000,000; that tho original estimate for tho Cliamplain canal was $871,000, and tho actual cost $4 ,000,000; that tho original estimates , for nil flin f-Unfo nnnnlc. aon Ann AAA vt.num worn t\nnFy\i\r\j and tlio actual coat $72,000,000. This is a striking exhibit, and its force, says a , prominent city papor, is not much' improred by some inaccuracy in the figures. ] A Philadelphia woman remarks in the J'rcxs : Where are tlio poor who seek ] employment ? Vainly have I searched ] for a fortnight for a woman willing to go t eighteen miles into tho country, at high i wages, to live in a comfortable, warm n ( kitchen, with plenty of food and kind 1 j treatment, and cook for a small family, f. 1 living her duty as a faithful servant. u FRAUDS AXD FARMERS. A Hint Tor iho (irnnRcrv to AVork Upon? Swindle* lu the Air. An easy but enviable immortality vwaits that grange or farmers' onion which will successfully divert the agricultural attention from the mighty miseries of railroad monopoly to the petty frauds wliicli iufebt our farmers' lives like vermin in a beggar's gaberdine. The farmer is more exposed to petty dwindling aud is more swindled in petty ways than auy other class in our communities. This proceeds partly from his isolation and the unsophisticatedue s in leparable from that condition; but it is partly duo also to an impatience of slow returns and a believe m short-cuts to wealth. Commonly the farmer takes only one paper, a woekly; often he takes none. In the former case ho religiously reads every line, advertisements and all. New seeds that yield impossibly, new breeds of stock and fowls, new varieties of fruit, miraculous potatoes, oats which' stand like bean poles and quiver with Ejoldeu harvests, corn which produces tifty ears to the stalk?he hears of all these wealth-bringing prodigies, he sees them cortilled to in tho most authentic way, he believes in them implicitly and invests in them extravagantly. If the farmer takes no paper at all, and conducts liis affair; entirely by the unaided force of natural talout, him the "agent" spies out, lies iu wait for, pounces upon, and grows fat by dospoilLug. Say tho agent is a fruit peddler: he exliibits his magnificently colored lithographs of impossible peaches, apples and pears, or goes around with carpetbags tilled with samples of hypertrophied California fruit preserved in spirits to point his moral and adorn his tale. The farmer buys strawberry plants by sample and finds ho has secured a fine growing crop of clover roots. We have known in agent, says the New York World, to make a clover living by going round the country selling plauts of that pretty solanaqoous herb,the Physalih Alkekr.ngi, as a new and valuable variety of wiuter-ripening cherry. Even if the farmer escapes being victimised by the agent and tho advertisement, he is still liable to be caught by the insidious wiles of the local Congressman and the deceitful seed packages of the Agricultural bureau. One cannot always be upon thoonf t'ire,and imagine the anguishes whicn await the farmer who, going away from home upon busi ness, finds on returning that liis son has doctored the sheep or the cows according to recipes found in the agricultural report, and his wife has sowed her flower beds with seeds from Commissioner Watts ! It occurs to us that the granges have here a wide field for the exercise of a very signal usefulness. Here are abuses which they can successfully attack, and which the whole country will thank them for abating. If they will ferret out these fraudulent agents and swindling advertisement and expose them upon all occasions, they will remit a good many sturdy knaves to honest industry while saving the farmers an annual sum of money absolutely lost, the aggregate of which would suffice to endow half a iozen colleges upon the most liberal scale. If in addition to hunting down individual swindles the granges should make iletermined war upon the ignorance which renders such swindling prosperous, they will be doing a work of nation ill education quite out of the reach of school boards and college corporations. It is probable that there is nothing which the collective American people need so urgently to learn as tho simple fact that, two and two making four, two and two cannot make five at any time, in any place, nor under any conceivable circumstances. The collective peoplo can only learn this by each person realizing it for himself individually. Ignorance of this principle underlies pretty much all misa. :-.i ?1 ? 1 ? ?" umvcnt iiuoiiuuii) puAUiuu, XllUllUy IU) WC11 is agricultural. Tho Overcrowded Cities. There is hardly a city in the United States which does not contain more peoplo than can get a fair, honest living, by labor or trade, in the best times. When times of business depression come, like those through which we have passed, and are passing, there is a large class that must be helped, to keep them from cruel suffering. Still the cities grow, while whole regions of tho country? especially its older portions?are depopulated year by year. Yet the fact is [latent to-day that the only prosperous class is the agricultural. Wo have now tho anomaly of thrifty faimers and starving tradesmen. The agricultural class of tho West are prosperous. They had a good crop last year, and havo received good priees for all their products; and while the cities are in trouble, and manufactories are running on half time, or not running at all, the Wostem farmer lias money in his pocket, and a ready market for everything he has to soil. Tho country must bo fed, and ho feeds it. Tho citv family mav do without new clothes, and a thousand luxurious appli- I ances, but it must have bread and meat. ; Tliero is nothing that can prevent tho ! steady prosperity of the American farmer but tho combinations and "cor uers " of middle-men, that force unnatural conditions upon tho finances and markets of the country. Tho weather, unhappy man, is now pleasant enough for you to beat the cariets. In tho morning when you get rp and see your wifo flying around the oom with a handkerchief on her head, i tack hammer in her hand, and tiro in ler eye, you want to climb iuto your garments and drop out of tho window uid make tracks for the olfioo. Items of Interest. , In Japan wheat is sown in November in drills sixteen inches apart, and one and a quarter bushel of seed to the acre. Arsene Houssaye asks: Which is worth most in the world, the approval of your own conscience or of public opinion f It is said that nothing will cure a poet's affection for his idol sooner than to oatch her at the dinner table excava ting the kernel of a hickory nut with a hairpin. Dean Swift said: " It is with narrow souled people as it is with narrownecked bottles; the less they have in them the more noise they make in pouring it out. A Southern citizen who bore the rank of general in the Confederate service recently joined the United States army in New Orleans, and to-day carries a musket a3 a private soldier. A new plan for steamship looomotion is suggested in providing screw propellers at each end of the vessel. One of them'is thus constantly in the water, no matter how rongh it may bo. Forty-eight savings bonks in the State of New York report a total of unclaimed deposits amounting to $845,844.72, of which $316,656.60 has remained unclaimed for over twenty years. It is said that the well hred ladies of Paris never by any ohanoe are seen wearing diamonds in the daytime. A. great many American ladies never offend good taste by wearing them. They cannot afford to. " Numbers is what does the business," shouted a man whD lives on Mechanic street. " When my wife is alone I can reason with her and rati things to suit myself, bat when her mother is around, I am not even a stockholder in the concern." The Grangers of California have formed a chartered business association, with a capital of $1,000,000, to deal in all kinds of agricultural produce, live stock and general merchandise, to charter and load vessels, and to ahip grain to foreign countries. A. Providence woman who had secured a good place to see the St. Patrick procession, reported to a policemen that she had lost her child, and hesought him to find it, as she did not dare to go in search of it lest she should ** lose her place." A Montreal man sues a grocer for obtaining three dollars and fifty cents of him on false pretenses, the grocer having sold him seven dollars and ten cents worth of butter, which the buyer alleges shrunk fifty per cent, when warm, on account of snow or ice in it. A horrible piece of cruelty was perpetrated at Girsrd, Pa. Some miscreants entered the barnyard of a farmer, where a young calf was tied to a stake, and deliberately cut the animal in two, running away with the hindquarters. When found the forequartara were still alive. Mrs. Oliver Pertr Rioe, of Indian apolis, has received from George H. Pendleton a legal opinion that she is heir to an estate worth $68,000,000. The estate lies in Alleghany oonnty, Pa., and its heirship has been traced in direct li'nn fn Hip lafp Dulpnn "Rif/ihiA fpflipr nf Mrs. Bine. A young wife in Pottawatomie county, Iowa, awoke about midnight and asked her husband a question. Receiving no answer, she placed her hand on his head to awake him and found him oold. . He was dead. When he retired that evening ho was in exoellent spirits and apparent health. An Absent Minded Woman. A funny incident, which lately oocured in the gas-office in Chicago, is described by the Intcr-Ocean: The wife of a member of the Illinois Senate entered to pay her bill, carrying her portemonnaie, as was her custom, in her right hand. Having oocamon to write her signature, she changed her pocket-book to her left hand, then started to go out. Noticing that her right was empty, she missed her I pocket-book, and turned to a rough-looking individual who had been standing by meantime, exclaimed angrily^: " I'll thank yon for my pocket-book, sir." Two or three of the bookkeepers rushed out, expecting to Bee the man try to escape, but ho stood still and calmly answereed : "I haven't it, ma'am." " You certainly have; I laid it down a moment ago here, and you are the only person who could have taken it." " I beg your pardon, ma'am," said the stranger, "but I am no thief. I have not got your pocket-book." "I'll have you arrested and searched," i cried tho irate lady. "As you please," j responded the man. And as the madamo tried to open { tho door to call a policeman, she dis! covered her puree in her left hand. The , stranger smilingly listened to a profuse and prolonged anolocw. S "Orf * The Boys. Thuycidades Brown, a boy of promise, was compellcxl to stay at home from scliool for a few days on acoount of a sevoro oold. Neddio Preston, one of his mates, called on him and endeavored to cheer him up. Ho said: "I know how 'tis, Gid; when a fellow gits aiok he's mighty loneaome, and likes to have his chums drop in on him." "Lonesome 1" and Thuyoidades reached under his pillow and drew forth three of those blood-curdling romances,bound in yellow paper and published by that friend of American youth, the dime novel man? "Lonesome? Not much! The fire'was just beginning to crackle nicely under Bowie-Knife Bill when you came in, and 11 had to drop it."