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f - . It. THE TRIBUNE. VOL. II.?NO. 6. BEAUFORT, 8. DECEMBER I#75. $1.50 PER ANNUM. A Christmas Carol. They are ringing, they are ringing, Our merry Christmas bells, In the village, in the city, In the dale-church o'er the fells. Be ours of life hi varied, Bo our fortunes poor or bright. Hand in hand with all our brothers, We are one at least to-night. 5 Nor tho noble in the mansion, Nor tho sovereign on the throne, Nor the boggar in his hovel, Will eujoy themselves alone. We all Heek the kindly greetaig . Of Borne dear, familiar face ^ We all know that hermit feeling For to-night is out of place. But one night! Why not for ever Should we bind the golden chain That shows man his poorest fellow Was not sent to earth in vain. Tint each sorrow hath a purpose. i uai. eaco joy liatu an alloy, That over finely balanced Are the scales of grief and joy. Spare a little, then, ye rich ones, From your laden oofTers now : Bring to poverty a nun-ray, Bring a smile to sorrow's brow. Take it gratefully, ye toiler*, Toilers up eartli'H weary hill; Tin a green spot in your desert, 'Tie a good sprung from your ill. Yes ! ye rich and poor united, 'Tie most grand in Heaven's sight, And a blessing, not earth's blessing, Is on all the world to-night. THE WAIF'S HOLIDAY. A Story for Christmas. Again had the beautiful season of tho birth of Christ dawned upon earth. Again the choral hymns went up, the joy-bells clashed upon the crystal air. It was the festal time for all God's tired children, wandering, stumbling, stray aug uinvuiu 1 li mw j'JCriltjy to IU6IT non . inheritance. The time when hands should clasp upon old feuds ; when the balm of forgiveness should be poured upon oid scars ; when pride, vain-glory, and all uueharitableness should flee away, like sorrow and sighing in a world 1 to come. i To-night?for it is Christmas eve?it i is bitter cold, and the stars look down with their sleepless eyes upon the great \ city, all alive with mirth Up-town I every door that opens sends forth a i burst of light, of life, and song, that trembles out and dies upon the wintry 1 wind. Through window panes where no selfish blibUs are drawn, there are < sweet home pictures to be seen in passing. But while in swift sucoession these ) Christmas phantoms pass before my 1 view it is not here, among the mansions < of the rich and great, that I must linger now. Quite out of the pale of May Fair | dwells a good man, above whose door is , writ in sliiuing letters : " John Bright \ ?crocer.'" "A merry Christmas." It was in- j scribed in au urch of vergreen within the door ; it echoed u, ua every passing j tongue ; an J if ever a fat, honest face ex- 1 pressed a kindly greeting, John Bright's j repeated this. Throughout the lingering twilight, a j busy stream of holiday folks poured in i at the grocer's portal, and blocked up the street in front. Mr. Bright and his two assistants had work enough to tie up browu paper parcels, and till jugs, and load baskets. . T'?o best of it was that somebody actually bought the fat tnrkey, who lay in state on a bier . decked with parsley sprigs, aud his arms crossed, like a hero as he was, taking barest, under the gas jot iu the window. Mr. Bright might well have said ' Iohabod after that, for the brother and sister turkeys whioh remained looked so insignfftcant, nobody cared even to ask their respective price. Perhaps that was the reason why, when it came to be time for Mr. Bright's two assistants to untie their aprons and go home, the fat grocer ordered them each to take one of the remaining fowls, and never let him hear of it again ! He did not look very indignant, however, as he brought out two well filled baskets, and told each assistant to take that home, and never say that he had not Been the color of a plum pudding, , but it smelt very much like tea, and | oranges, too, and the thin faoe of one of the poor boys brightened up so, that I don't think his feelings were hurt. (Ho hiul jivst come there, and was said to j have a grandmother dependant on him at home.) All this time, and whilst evory face wore a smile, and every eyo a gleam, , there was one little outsider whose lip j had never learned to laugh, and whose ] hollow orbs reflected nothing of the sea- 1 son's merriment. Oronohing in the shelter of a large pooking-box, its cheek pressed oiose to the shining pane, a tiny creature sat. : hour after hour gazing in at the wonders from which it was so utterly cut off. Oh ! tragedy of forsaken childhood, how i terrihle thou art ! A great gulf lay between this little one and the ohildren trooping by, their lips warm with mother's kisses-diands clasped in large and loving ones?hearts beating high with fond anticipations. It was only one atom of the mass of orphaned humanity swept out with the dust upon our streets?quite alone, thin child that olung with suffering hands to the window frame, and shrunk from every passer-by. Young as she was, she knew the polioeman's cry of " Move on." and dreaded the rude hand upon her tender frame?dreaded j to take up the march again upon this bitter night. Even that sound and J i touch was wanting now. She was over | < looked in the tide of festal joy. Whence | i she came no one knew; where she was j going, poor babe, who cared ? The ! signs of love, the looks of sympathy she j saw, awakened in her nothing of fellow- 1 ship. Never, in the sad maturity of her s'>ort life, could the little vagrant recall i one single look that made her less a waif. < And so she cowers, chill and friendless, underneath the mocking glitter of the 1 stars, while up and down the street tho ] winter's wind carried its ceaseless moaning. Mr. Bright rubbed his hands as ' the shop cleared* of its last customer, i He locked and barred the great door and i then stepped lightly back into a parlor 1 in tho rear. i Now it might have been that there ' were many Quer rooms and gayer scenes Jlian this, but, I am sure, not one more ' full of glowing comfort in all the broad city limits to-night. It peeped out of 1 the folds of red moreen that draped the 1 windows?it shone in every piece of tho 1 fltifT Vlftir-nlftfVl ori/1 molmnrnnw if squared itself upon the tufted rug?it simmered delightfully in an old fashioned tea-kettle?and it culminated in the persoc and preaence of a tortoisoshell kitten that frolioked before the fire. Everywhere the flicker of light showed wreaths and sprays of holly, disposed by some delicate hand. And while John Bright settled himself, after the manner of old gentlemen, upon the rug, with his back to the grate, there floated out from an inner room the notes of a hymn, sung in clear aud childish tones : " To yon, this night, is born ? child Of Mary, ohose mother mild ; This little child, of lowly birtu. Shall be the J jy of all your earth." In another moment a fairy girl, with flaxen braids, and eyes of serious sweetness, came out and Btarted joyfully at sight of him. John Bright's big face grew beautiful with tenderness as he caught her up in his arms. " Naughty father 1" she said, in mock reproof, " to keep your housekeeper waiting so long for her ten." "Christmas eve, little woman, and the poor folks all coming in for their little treats, remember." "And somebody sent his assistants home early to their Christmas, and did all 4lio i:?-J j? ? iw? vuv HW4IV muiocil, puui tlU OU UCltr, she added, passing her snow flake of a band over his bald head with the dain- * tiest of caresses. " He shall have some- x thing nice and hot for his snpper, ' shan't he, kitten ?"' The last named member of the family ' 3 had no idea of being left out, aud sat 1 saucily blinking her green eyes, on c John's other shoulder. "Put me down, please, father, now; J [ must bring in the things myself tonight. Isn't the room pretty? You haven't said anything to my holly, ' pither, after I pricked my fingers so." * After they had finished supper, and h the room was again restored to order, 11 Tohn's arm chair was put into requisi- . tion, and the fire piled high, for which 1 purpose he went out to a coal closet in" ^ the rear. ? "Whew!" said Mr. Bright, bringing in with him a fresh rnsh of frosty air. 14 Bad night out for them as wanders, H my dear. God grant n shelter to such. . It's making out to snow, Faith, before morning, and who knows but what yon 8 will have your sleigh-ride, after all, these il holidays?" But Faith's face sobered. She had 13 lat down upon her cricket, and was lis- c waning to the soughing of the wind, and g thiuking of the homeless wretches she n jould do nothing to relieve. John * Bright could not bear a cloud upon liis lading, so ho took her up close to his j 4 ieart. i i " Nine years old to-night, Faith," he mid, fondly. 44 Christma?sos have * 3a? sod me uy, many a time, my dear, e out never a one left mo a gift like this, o If on was singing something awhile ago g ibout a child?what was it f?that was ;he joy of all the earth. That's what you ire, mr pretty, that's it; the joy of all i aay earth?that's it J" 44 But, father," Faith said, after he had c done kissing her, 44 that did not mean a 1 sommon child. It is a pretty hymn written a long time ago by a good man, s for his little boy, on Christmas eve, and i he meant the Savior. Would you like } to hear the rest, sir?" 4'Go on, my pretty,goon," John said, 1 idiniringly; 44 if it ain't like a book to bear the httle woman talk." c Again the pure tones floated up. s 44 Now wo must talk about to-morrow," j be said; 44 won't there be a famous din- f ner, though, with little Faith behind the s plum pudding?" t 4 4 And such a famous company, father I 1 You are to fetch old Mrs. Grimes after church, and little crippled Tom, and I the poor French dancing master and all Ilia children. I am thinking of a tree for a the children." Womanly little Faith ! How demure- 1 ly she mapped out pleasure for her fellow innocents. And John smiled, as if c nobody had ever been charming before. J After a while, his little woman came i back to him in her thoughtful vein. She a slid from his knee, and again perohed t herself upon a stool where the fire-glow f played over her flaxen hair and warm blue woolen dress, decked at the neck c with its bunch of holly berries. ( " Isn't it almost bedtime, pretty e one?" m a " Tes, father, in a minute. This has been snch a pleasant Christmas eve all r alone with you. I think it must have a been meant for children to enjoy themselves on the night when the deare f s little babe of all was given to the I * world." I j Anil as they sat there, hedged in by home comforts, and basking in each other's warm love, a peal of bells clashed out merily from a neighboring steeple, 11 greeting to the lioldxday in-coming. " The dear old chime, father!" cried Faith. "Hark! let us hear it out. Please take me to the shop door, where the wind will bring it near i" He found a warm wrapping, and folding li^r tight, led the way to the door opening on the street. The little girl grasped her father's hand, and shivered as the icy atmosphere broke on them. Silently, silently, tho feathered snow was falling through tho dim, deserted itreet. Very fair and pure it is in its myriad flakes, like flying down; but, eerv chill and subtile when it wmnn i mantle round tko prostrate human form. 44 My Qod!" oned John Bright, suddenly ; 44 it can't bo !" He let fall Faith's hand and darted down the stop. Ho swooped down into the drifted snow, and brought up the tiny, dark tiling he saw lying there. 41 Oh, father, father," cried Faith, in tones strangely old with anguish ; 44 not i stray child to-night." But it was a stray child, on this Christmas eve, when other babes wero safely housed, and nestling in warm t>edB. A stray child, keeping her holiday upon the frozen breast of mother sarth. They bore her in from the darkness if the night, the bells still ringing out :heir joyful peal; they cradled her upon toft pillows, and chafed her thin limbs, Faith pouring tears into the cordials hoy forced between her teeth. The ihime had long ceased when the Granger opened eyes like faded violets luce more upon the living world. 44 Are you warm, now, little girl?" Faith's voice asked, tenderly. 44 And how came yoxi to freeze on my iteps?" said John, speaking gruffly, to ride the tremble in his own tones. The little vagrant began to shiver and ihrink away as he spoke, while a look of liteous fear came over her. 44 Olil please, sir," she faltered, 441 ras a-lookin' at the shiny things, and it vas warm behind the box." 44 Worm ! tho blessed lamb I Hear hat, will you!" shouted John Bright. 4 You musu't talk now, little chap, only ['d like to know where your home folks night be found. Mother an' father, yon enow, or brothers an* sisters, an* such." 44 I hain't got none," said the child, urning over on her pillow, and gazing vith weak wonderment into the great A _i ; 1~ ;t;u in giuwuig CUU1H. " , " Gran'ma, p'raps?" suggested John, j ooking dowucast ; "or pastors and j nnsters, or somethin' liko tlioso in the i atechism. Eh, Faith ?" " Nary," said tho little vagrant, j aiutly nodding her head. " I don't ! >elong to nobody, please mister." "But whore do you live, my poor lit- | le girl ?" came in Faith's matronly ores, as she stood, sober and patient, ' till chatiug the tiny discolored feet be- , eath the covering. "I lived down in Bill Tibb's cellar isl week, but Bill got caged by the lerlice, and we cleared out. Bill was rful drunk, and fit an' fit, but they ound the tickers he stole. I dasn't go tack that way and I took to corners, an' ich." The child's piping voice had become hiuner and weaker still during this peech, and sank away to a mere thread s she finished. John Bright strove to resist it, but was i inally compelled to walk away to the ither end of the room, and stand there ;r anting and swallowing hard for some ainutes, while little Faith's clear eyes fere brimming over. "Oh, father, father 1" she sobbed ; 'think of having no home but that, and lobody to care "? While she wept, the stranger child fas looking about with those wistful yes of hers, and taking in the various injects of tho scene with nn effort. The jaze came back and rested upon Faith. " I saw you onst," she said. "Where, little chapf" asked John,; toting this with delight. "She was a sittin' in winder roun' tho j mrner, and she had a shiny thing on her ! toad, and wings." " It's Mr. Barker's Christmas angel he's thinking about," shouted John, j nan ecstasy. "The one you saw, my; iretty, all made of wax, you know. If ; t ain't a natural fanoy, I'll be dog'oned, > Miith; but who'd a thought it ?" He was arrested by the change ooming j iver the child's faoe, as if all her i trength were spent, and the frail tern- j ?le were tottering to its fall. The trans- , inrtjiiii hub cioHea wearily upon ino | unkcn eyes. Tho wan lips met in <k. hin, bine line, and the little hands re- ' axed. "She is sleeping, father," whispered ?aith. John felt the fluttering pulse of heart nd wrist, and his face grew grave. "It's something else, 1 fear, my child. ; Vorse than that, my little Faith." Midnight passed, and the snow with- , nit kept falling noiselessly. Indoors, ! rohn and little Faith held their patient i dgil. She had refused to go to bed, I nd all through the ebbing moments sat enderly ministering to tno little suferer. After a long time of silenoe, while the ild clook in the oorner ticked in the Christmas day, and the flro-glow soberid to a dull and steady red, the child tirred and spoke: "Oh ! no, no, Bill; don't beat me ! I tever stole nothin'. It was only a bone, nd the dog dun left it." "All right, little chap," said John, nothing her with his great hand. ' No Bills and bones here, I'll promise ron." With fall consciousness, she lost her Eiteons whimper, and let herself be ushed to rest. Faith's gentle fingers parted the tangled hair, and F.:itli's ripe lips touched the wasted brow. "You must not be afraid, dear!" she said, "you have found friends, and we will take care of you." " I likos it," said the child, in a whisper. " It's warm, and yon are nice." "Kin I stay here?" she asked, presently. "Bill said his dog 'ud get me if I runned away. He bit me oust, that dog," and out of her childish lips quite naturally, and without hesitation, came an oath that made Faith shudder. "Oh, you must not says those words ?you must not," cried the young monitress. "It breaks my heart to hoar you, and God will bo angry with you." "Who's he? Is it that 'ere?" said the child, pointing toward John. "Please, mister, don't get mad. I? ain't"? She was too weak to go on. Faith leaned close down to her car, and spoke, softly. " God is your father, poor child, and he won't bo angry if you tell him yon are sorry." " I never seed him ; I hain't g<^t " Don't talk now. I'll tell you about him the best I cau." And, in her earnest fashion, Faith told the wonderous tale. She spoke of God's love, and to the ears of one hearer at least her accents sounded like the dropping of milk and honey from tho promised land. And before she had finished the sweet recital the child had sunk into another period of light slumber, her hand clasped in Faith's. The firelight glimmered on the wall, making a frieze, across which trooped figures gaunt and shadowy, like the old Ossianic heroes. Tho warm red of draperies, and tho glitter of holiday garlands sank alike into gloom,- and for a long time no sound camo to the watchera, save the ticking of the tireless clock and the weakened breath ebbing slowly out. Suddenly tho vagrant opened her eyes again. " I'm a-clearin' out, please, mister. Only it was warm." ' You?you are going, little one," said Faith, sorrowfully. " Won't you ask God to take you?" " Is it warm up there?that plaoe you said? Is there winters, too?" "Yes; it is a beautiful place, and you'll never be cold again, nor hungry, nor anything, but God's own little child." " Oh ! please ax him?ax him to take me "long," she said, with brightened eyes. "That was good what you said, 'bout that gentleman that sent his sou." Faith took the littlo hands, and folded them in token of supplication. She raised her own soft eyes, and the littlo one looked upon her wonderiugly. " Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed bo Thy name, Thy kingdom come." " Come," echoed tho stammering lips. That was all. as a wearv soul flut-1 tered out into rest. Only that, when the " pilgrimshoon, too early worn and grimed," were loosed, John Bright fell down upon his knees, and Bobbed aloud. As for Faith, it did not frighten her. She quietly arose, and drew aside the curtain, and there? " The east and west, without a breath. Mixed their dim lights like life and death. To broaden into boundless day." About Advertising. If yon havo a good thing, advertise it. If you haven't, don't. If you don't mean to mind your own business, it will not pay to advertise. It's as true of advertising as of anything else in the world, if it is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well. We don't recommend advertising as tho best way to get a wifo, but we know that it is the best way to get a good trade. Don't expect an advertisement to bear fruit in one night, like tho prophet's gourd. Advertising will take effect, but it takes more than one night to do it. You can't eat enough in one week to last a whole year, and you can't advertise on that plan, either. A large advertisement onoe and then discontinued creates the impression that the man has fizzled. Injudicious advertising is like fishing where there is no fish. You neod to let the lines fall in the right place. A constant dropping will wear a rock. Keep dropping your advertisements on tho public, and they will soon melt under it like rock salt. Large type isn't necessary in advertising. Blind folks don't read newspapers. A King's Example. "Tho gentleman king of England" had a plain country squire to dine with him, one day. When game was put upon the table, and the squire got a snipe on his plate, he took it by the legs anil began to twist them off in his rough, hftm?uv ur.vin TI?A ??? a uti^uuouin wore horrified. The king saw it, and knew that if the squire should glance irp and see their looks ho would know that he was doing something dreadful, and be covered with confusion; whereupon the king took his own snipe by the legs and began twisting them off, just as the squire was doing. What a fine case of the usual form of politeness withdrawing behind tho principle which seeks to protect the feelings of others ! Ttao Force of Circumstances. Says a correspondent of the New York Ijedger : Years ago?flve-and-twenty, . at least?my friend and confrere, J. C. Pitrat, sitting in my office, gave to me a copy of announcements which had been ? made in the Monitcur concerning the movements of Napoleon Bonaparte. Pitrat had been a priest, and also editor " of a Paris newspaper in the time of " Louis Philippe, and his relations to me of his political experience in France s were as instructive as they were inter- t eating. Here is the lirst announcement, ^ clipped from a copy of the Afonileut B of March, 1815 : i "The monster has escaped from his j place of banishment. He has run away from Elba." Remember that Louis XVIIL had 1 been by the allied powers of Europe Jseated upon tlie throne of his ancestors, and that the quaking of the nation from 11 the tread of the late emperor had not yet ? . ceased. There was a wondrous power in Li-iCJ 11 Ulllt?. \ J Very shortly following the first an- a nounoement of the Moniteur came tho c second, as follows : t * Tho Ogre (worse than monster) of t Corsica has landed at Cannes, on Cape Juan. Ho has a few of his old gnard with him." * J On tho next day our truth-telling edi- ' tor wrote : v " The tiger has shown himself at Gap. J By order of the authorities the royal troops, together with the whole force of the police, are advanoing to arrest his p progress. If he escapes the indignant n power thus set against him, it con only p be as a wanderer among the monntains. tl Further escapo is impossible." a Two days later the Moniteur publish- g ed its fourth announcement: " The monster has, we are credibly in- ^ formed, advanced as for as Grenoble. To what treachery this is to be ascribed we .j know not; but there must be treachery somewhere." Fifth announcement.?41 The tyrant . is at Lyons. Concerning this there con be no mistake. Fear and terror have seemed to seize all at his appearanoe." *' Sixth (two days later).?44The death- ? dealing usurper has ventured to ap- ? proach the capital, and, at this present " writing, is within sixty hours' march. ? "We know not the strength of the rabble 11 in his train." On the next day the Moniteur said: 0 4 4 Bonaparte is advancing boldly, and by v forced marches; but we do not think it <3 possible that he can reach Paris." (3 Eighth announcement.?44 Napoleon j will doubtless arrive under the walls of \ I Paris to-morrow." I *1 Later the paper informed its eager readers that "The Emperor Napoleon , is at Fontainebleau." For the tenth announcement conoern ing the movements of the historio Cor- j Hican, the Moniteur loyally said to its readers : Yesterday, his majesty, the emperor, made his public entry into the city, arriving at the Tuileries in the evening. The populace is carried away by enthu siiism, and nothing can exceed the uni- ^ versal joy. France will be no longer the plaything of the allied powers," 11 v h Deceiving a Watchman. b A man employed to watch the medical ^ colleges in Indianapolis, to prevent the stealing of subjects, gives the following Y account of one night's experience : I * kept up a brisk walk along the west end " of the building, knowing that was the ft only way to crowd them in, although I occasionally varied my beat by going " round on the other side of the block, ?' passing both stairways. In the early part of the evening I mot and passed a good many pedestrians?men of rough s< appearance?who went through the alley bi in a leisurely way, as if bent more on is tilling in time than anything else. As st the gliostly hour drew near I saw fewer pi of these rough prowlers, and finally b: fonnd myself the sole wanderer in the 1 ti alley. A little before midnight a light- ; a] covered buggy turned in from the street. ! I I was quite near it, and by tho ligH .11 ... the street lamp I saw it oontained two I rj meu. The oue on the right was driving, and chatting volubly to his oompaniou, who iu turu responded in a different and . somewhat coarser voice. Very good ^ friends they seemed to be, and very ^ civil, I thought. Of course, they could have no "subject" concealed in that ? littlo buggy that was scarcely large enough to hold themselves. They stopped 01 suddenly, the driver speaking the word, " whoa !" in an unusually loud tone ol* " voice. I was close behind them, and a saw a rope drop down from the upper c< regions very unexpectedly to mo, but P1 not to the soft-voiced gentleman on the M right side of the buggy. He caught tho 1* end of it, and in an instant of time w hooked it fast to his friend on the left, and up ho went, whilo the chatty driver ^ drove off alone. Sure enough, the second man was au uncommunicative " stiff," and'I had been a consummate fool not to think of it soonor. He went ni up in less than five seconds, and was snatched in at an upper window in a ai twinkling. That driver was a clever ^ scoundrel, with considerable talent for y ventriloquism. l al His Last.?Two men wore talking of a death when one asked : " What were n( his last words ?" " He didn't say any- _ thing," was the reply. " That s just ,, like him," said the first man, with an npproving nod. " There was no gas about him. Ho was all business." vi ??? || Tho art of getting out of debt does ei not seem to interest some folks. It is " the art of getting into it that they ap- a< pear to study most. y< Items of Interest. The latest slang is : " Oh, poll down rotir vest I" There are sixty persons in the Massachusetts State prison who are sentenoed or life. Switzerland possesses one hundred ind sixty-eight cotton mills, running 1,059,850 spindles. There are twenty-three men under entenoe of death in various parts of he United States. A resident of Ecuador, being asked that kind of soil his country had for griculture, answered: " Excellent?if t would only keep still for a month or wo at a time." A lady applying for admission to the unior class of an eastern seminary, beng questioned by the president as to ler qualifications, replied: "I ain't auch of an arithmeticser but I am an legant grammarist." A case in one of the civil oourts at tan Francisco had to be postponed on tcoount of a oonflict of jurisdiction, one >f the jurors having been sentenoed to wentv-four horns' imurinonment for in oxication by a police magistrate. A tyrannical Kentucky judge has derided that no matter how anxious a armer may be to push his work forward, he has no right to harness his rife to a plow. They had better jusice than that a hundred years ago. Mrs. Livermore says girls are not articular enough about the men they larry. Mrs. Stone, of Omaha, is so articular about the man she married bat she taken her sewing to his offloe nd sits there all day till he is ready to o home. John Frederick Gunter went from Jhioago penniless to Australia, twentyhree years ago. He now advertises m be Chicago newspapers that he is able nd willing to help his relatives, and inites them to write to him. And won't e hear from them I A London correspondent of the Bufilo Commercial reports that CoL Valntine Baker has offered his services to be Emperor of Russia, that the offer as been aooepted, and that the colonel rill go to Russia as soon as his term of mprisonment expires. Four Vice-Presidents have died in fflce. These were George Clinton, rho died in 1812 ; Elbridge Gerry, who lied in 1814 ; William R. King, who lied in 1853, and Henry Wil on. )aniel D. Tompkins, whose term as rice-President expired in 1825, died be same year. The following is said to be a neverliling cure for earache : Take a bit of otton-batting, put upon it a pinch of liir?V twntvr mithnr if. nn uwl tia if ip it in sweet oil, and insect into the ir. Pat a flannel bandage over the ead to keep it warm. It will give imicdiato relief. , Clay F. Smith, an aotor in a small ftvehng company, flirted with a girl in 'hillicothe, Mo., and sent a note to her irough a laundress. The girl's father it-erceptod it, armed himself with a reolver, and want to shoot Smith, who ired a horse and started cat of town,nt tho father overtook him and killed im. A murderer was recently brought from 7olf county to Liexington, Ky., foreafe eeping. Four deputy sheriffs brought im, and led him along like a bear, with rope which passed around his body id pifiioned his arms. One man led im, and on each side and behind the ;her men were distributed, each with a rawn pistol. No man with an average amount of ilf-possession need be without an umrella on a rainy day. All he has to do to step up to the first rtranger he sos carrying a good one, and say: '' Beg urdon, sir ; I believe yon have my umrellal" The chanoes are ten to one lat the fellow will stammer out an lology and hand it over. ? James W. Bass, a lawyer of Fond du ac, Wis., has obtained a verdiet for 1,500 damagoa against the Northwestrn railway for injuries in being forcily ejected from the ladies' oar on one 1 its trains. Bass began his snit in ane, 1872, and then obtained a verdict >r 84,500. The supreme oourt granted new trial of the case, and another jury as confirmed the decision of the former ae. John Aired, of Borne, Ga., remarked: I am fifty-two years old and don't owe dollar ; haven't bought a bushel of i>rn or a pound of meat sinoe the war ; ever had a cross word with a neighbor i my life, and never swore an oath ; ever buy any clothing?have them spun, oven and made at home ; never had a wsuit with any one, and never was a itness in court." A Frenchman, who had lost an apointment he held, having publioly denred that it would cost the lives of lore than five hundred persons, this atement came to the cars of the pnblio itnontiee, who nau turn arrestea, ana died him what be lueant bj each a ireat. "I have threatened no one," e replied; "I only meant that I was txrat to turn doctor." Servant?"I suppose, ma'am, I shall ot have to wait at table I" Lady?" O, 0 ! I want a housemaid." Servant? 1 suppose, ma'am, I shall not have to take the beds!" Lady (surprised, but >mposedly,?"Certainly notl" Serinfc (thinking the place will suit)? And I suppose, ma am, T ?ha)l not be cpeoted to answer the door t" LadyOf oourse not! The fart is, 1 want a \rvant to look at, ui.d 1 don't think on will do 1"