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* V, < r . i i.I ? " A tYAR STORY. 4 Neglected Ennacemrnt or tko Ilrbrliion Qioiv Fint Told of. From Mark Twain's 4'Private History of a Campaign that Failed," in the Decoupler Century, we take this incident: For a time life was idly dclicious; it was perfect; there was nothing to mar it. Then came some farmers with an i alarm one day. Tliey said it was rumored that the enemy were advancing in our direction, from over Hyde's praine. The result was a sharp stir among us aiid general consternation. It was a rude awakening from a pleasant trance. The rumor was but a rumor? toothing denmte about it; so in the confusion we did not know which way to retreat. Lyman was for not retreating at all in these uncertain circumstances; but he found that if he tried to maintain that attitude he would fare badly, for the command were in no humor to put up with insubordination. So he yielded the point and called a council of war, to consist of himself and the three other officers; but the privates made such a fuss about being left out that we had to allow them to be present. I mean we had to aliowtlicm to remain, for they were already present, and doing most of the talking too. The question was, which way to retreat; but all were so flurried that nobody seemed to have even a guess to offer. Except Lyman. He explained in a few calm words that inasmuch as the enemy were approaching from over Ilydc's prairie, our course was simple: all we had to do was not to retreat toicard him; any other direction would answer our needs perfectly. Everybody saw in a moment how true this was and how wise: so Lyman got a great many compliments. It was now decided that we shouUl full back on Mason's farm. It was after dark by this time, and as we could not know how soon the enemy might arrive, it did not seem best to try to luxe me norses ana tnings with us; bo we only took the guns and ammunition and started at once. The route ; was very rough and hilly and rocky, and presently the night grew very black and rain began to fall; so we had a troublesome time of it stiuggling and stumbling along in the dark, and soon some person slipped and fell, and then ' the next person behind stumbled over 1 him and fell, and so did the rest one after the other; and then Bowers came -with a keg of powder in his arms whilst 1 the command were all mixed together, arms and legs, on the muddy slope; and 60 he fell of course with the keg. and this started the whole detachment down the hill in a body, and they landed in I : the brook at the bottom in a pile, and \ i each that was undermost pulling the hair and scratching and biting those ] that were on top of him. and1 those that j were beine: scratched and bitten scratch- i ing and biting the rest in their turn, < and all saying they would die before i they would ever go to war again if they ever got out of this brook this time, and the invader might rot for all they j cared, and the country along with him, ^ and all such talk as that, which was dis- , - mal to hear and take part in, in such , b % smothered, low voices, and such a grisly i r ' dark place and so wet, and the enemy } may be coming any moment. , Th6 keg of powder was lost and the guns too; so the growling and ?.omplaining continued straight along whilst , the brigade pawed around the pasty ] hillside and slopped around in the brook j hunting for these things; consequently , we lost considerable time at this; and then wo heard a sound and held our I J K.i. J ---1 > ' ' 1 uivuvu nuu naiuucu, uuu il seemed to DC the enemy coming, though it coulcl have ! been a cow, for it had a cough like a , cow; but we did not wait, but left a couple of guns behind and struck out 1 j for Mason's again as biiskly as we could J , ecramble along in the dark. But we i Rot lost presently among the rugged ' , little ravines, und wasted a deal of time . finding the way again, so it was after nine when we reached Mason's stile at last; and then before we could open our mouths to give the countersign, several dogs came bounding over the fence with ] great riot and ncise, and each of them 1 took a soldier by the slack of his trou' 8cr8 and began to back away with him. We could not shoot the dogs without ! endangering the persons they were attached to, so we had to look on, helpless, at what was perhaps the most mortifying spectacle of the civil war. There ' was light enough, and to spare, for the Masons had now run out on the porch with candles in their hands. The old I 1 man and his son came and undid thr ' iil, ~--4- J!iC U_ -11 1 -a r* ? uugo wiiuuui uiiucuiiy, an dui isowcrs*v | v, v but they couldn't undo his dog?they didn't know his combination. He was of the bull kind, and seemed to be set with a Yale time lock; but they got him loose at last with some scalding water, of which Bowers got his share and Yeturned thanks. Peterson Dunlap afterwards made up a fine name for this engagement, and also for the night march which preceded it, but tfoth have long ago faded out of my memory. *"?? Had Him There. Managing Editor (to news editor)?Is -V'; , that the sort of jokes you clip for our "Jests of the Paragraphers" column? News Editor?Why I thought that rather i clever, Managing Editor?The kind of j cleverness that costs a dollar a line in i our paper, beginning as a joko and J ending in a patent medicine ad. You've j given Cagliostro's Curative Cubebs | twenty lines by your carelessness in not reading the thing through before you used your scissors on it. News Editor? Lachrymoiic Lillian I Cagliostro must have employed a retired paragrapher co , do that work. I won't let it happing again. Managing Editor?Well, I wont be hard on you. Tell the cashici v Saturday he can give you the usual 25 . per cent, commission for securing the advertisement for us. That will leave Wg only $15 to take out of your salary.? Tidbits. No Fit.?A. horse was sent up from I the farm at the Indian school at Carlisle, ! Et ')' ' Pa., to be shod. Having a number oi P' V; ready-made shoes on hand, the iob, in the absence of the boss, was given to T an apprentice. After an interval the following note came to the superintendent: 4'The horse don't fit none of our & . shoes." A GUARD FOR PRISONERS THE FAMOUS NIGGER HOUNDS Ol THE SOUTH. An Exhibition of Tbcir Wonderful Noses n n. Georgia Convict Camp. [From the Atlanta Constitution.} , While at Oldtown I saw a race be tween a convict and the hounds. I came about in this way: Mr. Williams claimed, ami he wa backed by Capt. ?amcs, that any con vict could be selected out of a hundre< and sent off to cirr!? through tin* wnnds passing through a dozen squads of con victs; that, an hour later, he could pu his hounds on the convict's track, am they would thread him through tin stjuads of convicts, never be shaken fron his individual track, and finally brin^ him up. I remarked that I could understam how the hounds might carry a convict'i track through a crowd of outsider from some scent of the camp, but no how they could separate one convic from another. "There may be a hundred convicts,' he said, ''clothed precisely alike, ant wearing precisely the same shoes. They may feed together on precisely the sam< food, and sleep in bunks that toucl each other under precisely the sam< cover. And yet each one of tliem has i scent that marks him just as distinctly to my hounds from his fellows, as his ap pearance marks him under your deliber ntn Kfndv " "And do you expect me to bclicvi that the dogs can catch*this scenc fron the flymg touch of his thick shoes ot the hard ground?" "Undoubtedly. And further. II< may stop in a squad and change shoes with a convict, and the dogs will stil follow him. On the hardest ground, his scent will be plain to them, though hii shoe soles are half an inch thick. Wher he runs through the woods, where hii clothes touch the bushes, they will trail him heads up, in full cry, fifty yards, running parallel, but away from when he ran." "Do you mean that you can take fiftj convicts, all clad in convict suits, lei them run through the bushes, then send the convict the dogs nre trailing througl the same bushes, and the scent of his body left on the yielding twigs as his clothes brush them, will lead the hounds through the maze?" "Yes, fifty yards away, thev will run i. ii-l r..ii ? i * n, (jitiHiiui ?it iuii speea. 10 prove tint I will start a convict. I will let other* follow him through the woods. I will let him make a semicircle in the woods with fifty yards' radius. "When the hounds come to this, instead of following the curve they will scent the oppo site side of the circle, fifty yards away, cut across to it, take the track up there, md follow it." -A gaunt convict, long of leg and flank, cvas selected for the run. He was told to put off quickly, circle in the woods, take a swift run over the fields, roads, uid through every squad of convicts ht sould find in his way. This I12 did. The hounds were then loafing about th< 3tockade yard, as listless a lot of dogs is ever were seen. "I am tempted," said Mr. Williams, "to let the convict ride a horse for 1 mile or two after he has run awhile. ] (lave had dogs trail a convict on horseback four miles, and then take the track where he jumped from the horse." By this time the flying convict was j small speck on the broad fields, and ir 1 moment more had melted into tht horizon and was gone, as if, indeed, lie had found that liberty for which his sou! panted and had gone as the strongivinged birds go when they vanish in the Ultts* /? ? k/iUU V tUVl ? In an hour we mounted our horses. Phe hounds were still loafing about ir blie sunshine. Suddenly Mr. Williams, squaring himself in his saddle, ble^ three quick, short blasts on the cow'i born that hung at his side. As if bj magic, the hounds awaked and charged at his saddle?eager, baying, frantic. "Nigger!" he said scntentiousl}'. Lik< the wind they were oir, nose to th< ground, tails up, circling like beagles, Larger the circle grew, the hounds silenl as spectres, eyes and nose eating the earth for its secret. ' They will pasi over the tracks of convict squads, but will open on the first single track thej find. If it is the wrong track we wil Bimply sit still. They will run it a hun drea yards or so, and, noting our silence will throw it off and search again When they get the right track, we wil halloo and start after the hound that hai it. The others will join him, and th< race is opened." At last a red hound, careering liki mad across the field, halts suddenly tumbles over himself, faces about, nose: the ground eagerly, lifts his head "A-a-o-o-o-w-ul" and is off like ai arrow from a bowstring. "That's thi rracK," snouts wnunras, ana after th< howling hound we go. The othe dogs join in pell mell at first, then cacl hound true to the track, in full cry am at a rattling gait. Away off to the lef Capt. James calls attention to a movinj speck against the sky. "That is tin convict circling back to camp," he said On the dogs went, keen as the wind, in exorable as fate, following the track o the flying convict where it had beci laid as lightly as thistle on the firn earth, but where it left its telltale seen all the same. Nothing could shak< them off?nothing check their furiou rush. Over other tracks made by con victs wearing shoes from the same las and same box they went without hin drance, led by some intangible miracl of the air, straight on a single trail. "Now we'll see them wind his seen fifty yards away," said Williams, as wi neared a patch of forest. Close to thi was a squad of convicts. These we ha< sent through tho woods an hour before We had made "trusties." walkim singly, touch every bush and tree. Thei the convict we were trailing was. rui through, making a half circle, with a least tifty yards' radius. The hoqnd entered the forest at a hustling pace, small red dog leading. Suddenly th leader faltered for an instant, witl nose in air, then burst with tierce cr to the left, ran obliquely for full flft; yards, with head up, when he took u] again tho traek of the convict, and low crod his head to the ground. He ha Vr.'. , l- ' " " % ' ,'V' fyl' ty?.'-*, t (' .' ' ij<f'\" r^^Tf5^^li0r^! .>. % * \i' i". - .'.u. vii simply made a short cut across the somi' circle, having caught scent of the convict on the bushes more than a hundred p foet away. I am aware that this is in-1 credible to thoso who have never seen i it. I cannot explain what it 13 that the ' flying man, clad and shod as a hundred 1 others, fed on the same food, chained daily to the same chain, and sleeping in the same bunks at nights imparts to a yielding twig touched by Lis clothes so that it attracts a hound fifty 'yards " away. Hut it certainly does just that* \ The last test was now coming. We wuru moving toward a squaa of convicts s ; at work in a cotton field. We had I \ sent the fugitive convict through j this squad. We had then made them ' . walk in a double circle around him. ' They then crossed and recrosscd his , tracks, many of them wearing exactly such shoes as he wore. One hour later Q the hounds struck this point. There 1 was not an instant's pause. There wa6 > no deviation, no lot up in the pace. . Through the labyrinth of' tracks the | hounds went, as swallow's through the 8 air, hurrying inexorably on the one * track they had chosen. j ' The end was now near. The convict having run his race, was seen leaning , against a tree and watching the hounds . plunging toward him. "Won't he climb the tree.'" I asked. "No; the ? hounds are trained to simply bay the 3 convicts when they come up with them. J Otherwise the convicts would kill I muni. ny tins nine tne nounas liacl * J sighted bim. They halted about tweuty * yards away from the tree against -which he stood and bayed him furiously. Pretty music they made, and not deeper than I have heard often and again under 2 a 'possum tree. Mr. Williams called 1 them off, and the convict came forward. 1 "Dem puppies is doin' mighty well, Cap'n," he said, grinning as he lazily 2 swung by on his way to the stockade. * These dogs are not bloodhounds. I | doubt if there is a bloodhound in 5 Georgia, though two are reported near 5 Cartersvillc, descended from a pair 1 owned by Col. JetE Johnson in the days ' of slavery. The Oldtown dogs are fox hounds of the Redbone breed, trained ? for several generations to hunt men. ; 1 They are never tempted by other game. They are neither tierce nor powerful, and are relied on solely to trail the conj vict and lead his pursuers to his lair. ! HE LOSES HIS LAWSUIT. , . l A RemittlMcenrn of n Terrible Fire in which lOO Pcraoim Perished. 1 A letter from Milwaukee, Wis., says : s In the County ? ourt Judge Mann mmlc 5 a decision sustaining the demurrer made ' by the Newhall House Stock Company 5 in the damage suit of John Gilbert ! Donoliue, and the case is now thrown out of court and at an end. This ac' tion is the last act in the terrible i tragedy of the burning of the Newhall House three years ago, when 100 people lost their lives. A few hours before the lire there was a merry party in one of 1 the rooms on the fifth floor. John Gilbert, the actor, whose real name is , Donohue, who was a member of Minnie : I'almer's company, then playing in Milwaukee, had been married the day bes fore to a beautiful girl in Chicago i named Gertrude Sutton. The actor and his bride hurried back to Milwaukee to join his company. During the t performance on the night of the Are the I bride.sat in a box. and after the curtain had dropped on the last act there was : a midnight wedding supper, attended by a host of theatrical friends, at the i Newhall House. The merry party did i not break up until nearly 3 o'clock in ; the morning. s An hour later Mrs. Gilbert was lying f dead, with many others, on the side - walk, near the hotel. Her husband, s m n ? mnrl nnrl Klnnr? in nr irroo l\mnA> nn?n/l > UilV* U1V.V. y " Uij WUIU^ V.11IUU for near by, las life almost cxtinct He was taker, to a hotel, and for days lini gored between life and death, and con, stantly moaning and asking for his r young bride. Mrs. Gilbert was taken i with the unidentified dead to the 7 morgue. Her mother went to MilwauI kee, and the scene wTas a heartrending one when she visited the morgue. to i search for her child. The bodies were ; so disfigured that it was almost impossible to identify them. Mrs. Sutton t could not find her daughter's body uns til John R. Rodgcrs, who went to the j morgue with Mrs. Sutton, identified the ; body by the underclothes, which bore j the initials of Miss Sutton. 1 Tn time John Gilbert recovered. It was weeks before he was told of the , fate of his bride. A few months after . the fire he brought suit for $20,000 1 damages against the owners of the 3 house, asserting that they were crimmal; W negligent in the care of their guests. The suit dragged along until the other ? day, Avhen a technical point was decided against Gilbert, and the case was s thrown out of court. J. F. Antisdel, the lessee of the hotel, \ left Milwaukee soon after the fire. He B is now keeping a small hotel in Michi3 gan. The site of the hotel remained in r ruins until a few months ago, when it , was purchased bv a life insurance com j pan>* and on it a grand edifice i*s now t going up that will cost almost a $1,000,, 000. Gilbert has married again and has ^ played once or twice in Milwaukee since that dreadful night. f Utilizing the Ugly Png. 1 * 1 A young lady whoso father is one of t the wealthy men of Philadelphia, went B abroad last summer in company with 8 two relatives. They sailed from Phila" delphia and returned thither. They t allowed their general baggage to be in spccted without protest. The young 0 lady carried a diminutive pug dog in her arms. The animal was particularly t ill-natured and vicious, but the young e lady appeared to be very fond of her s brute and carried him in her arms all 1 the time. He wore a blanket and had . a collar around his neck. % I got close enough to see that the i n blanket was a mass of expensive lace ' n An tA Klonl/af i/v ambKIa u iuvnvu vu fcv i>mv i/iaaiwvf w cuauiv iivi t to avoid duty on it, and that the collar s was literally studded with diamonds, a What could we dot If we Vad held e the dog there would have been a great h howl over the indignity, and the girl's y father had influence enough to have us y all discharged. We consequently alii lowed the $10 pug, with his $2,000 blanket and his $10,000 collar, to pas* 4 free of duty. A STRUGGLE IN LIFE. Army Wrecks, and the W?y la which They were Made. "You want to know why I gave the old fellow a dollar?" asked an ex-army officer, as I questioned the propriety of the donation that ho had made to a rather rough specimen of humanity, who had asked for money enough to get i him a dinner. "The case stands this way," he said; "there are men who ask me to help them who cannot get their own consent | to ask others. This is not because I am under obligations to them, but because they know that I know the stull they arc made of. Now, this poor fellow was always run down at the heel in the army, but he was an exceptionally brave man. I have seen him do a great many things that I felt at the time I could not have done. His one good quality was his capacity to do the right thing in time of battle or in time of great excitement, and I have complimented him scores of times upon deeds of uncommon bravery. "While he wns in the army his mother died, and his father made a disreputable marriage. In the very last year of the war his wife ran away with an old rival, and the boy that he cared most forwent to the bad. The first thing this good fighter did when he left the service was to use his pay and extra bounty in prolonging a disgraceful spree. He got into all sorts of trouble and disgrace, and nobody cared to have much to do with him. I found him sick and ready to die. Remembering what the man had been, and remembering the discouragements that met him when ho ?f :? T J- I V.UU1U trnb U1 LIli" SU1 YlUUf A IUUUU &11 Ul- | tempt, to save him. "I did save liirn in so far as preventing him from becoming a drunkard is concerned, but since the last engagement in front of Atlanta the man has pof had the spirit of a squaw. He has worked hard, but nearly always at a disadvantage. When he jjets down he comes to me because he knows that I will understand that he is in need. He is the sort of fellow, you know, wlio, rather than submit to any humiliation from an old comrade, would walk out the pier and jump into the lake. My heart is sorely troubled over the question of what we shall do with suchmen. "There is another type of the unfortunate soldier of a higher grade than this that ought, to be looked after. The young mnn who went into the army from the purest and highest motives, who lost his health and strength and capacity to do in the hard service of actual war. and who came out of the service saddened, proud, and highspirited, as only a thoroughly educated soldier can be, and took up the burdens ?the new burdens?of civil life, without a murmur, with searcely a hope? such a man stands for a class. There ore thousands of men whose army education stimulated and cultivated a natural pride that was very great. Their experience in the army contributed also to the growth of a sensitiveness that has become morbid. "Their struggle in life since the war has not made them grumblers, but it has not blunted their sensitiveness. Thev have never asked for pension or for favor of any kind. Some of them are burdens to their family, or are depending for their support upon appreciative friends. They arc dropping off by the hundred every year, going down without a murmur, without any credit mark, with simply a crooked leg or an empty sleeve or an ugly scar pointing to a record of rare courage in the army. T4- :a 1-- 1 .11, to IIUI DIIIIUUU IU 1UC lUIlt SULil illUU would rather come to an old comrade for help than to go to a soldiers' liomc or to the public. I can't explain it, but I can understand it, and so I pave the man a dollar."?Chicago Inter- Ocean. The Drunkard's Children. Alas how often are the childien of the drunkard trained in sin! How unspeakably touching was a case which occurred in Lambeth the other day! A married I woman of twenty-six and her child were taken up for stealing drinking glasses from a tavern; and, in court, the little child ran toward her father, who, bursting into tears, said that he worked hard, but all in vain; his wife drank all his earnings, and brought him into debt right and left. Even if they be not trained to sin, how fearful is the lot of the drunkard's children from the fatal taint in the blood, the awful hereditary e . i v . i v v J craving ior ntconoi, wnicn eiuier arives them into the same terrible destruction as their parents, perpetuating the crimes , and miseries of the world, or else in- j volves the necessity of a life-long help- i less struggle, lest the wild beasts of . temptation should leap out before them, j and hurl thera down with its fatal spring?a struggle noble, indeed, and heroic, and requiring as much virtue and rosolution as would make a dozen ordinary saints, but one which makes life one awful and continuous martyrdom, almost from the cradle even to the j grave. Canon Farrar. Flowers for " Baby." The florists were all busy Christmas Eve putting up table sets and boutonnieres for "Christmas deliveries. Into one of the biggest and busiest a little ragged girl, with pinched cheeks and big, soulful eyes, came timidly. "Well," said the clerk, who was tying up a gorgeous wreath. "Please, sir, can I get two white roses and a yellow one, with a little green, for these?" and she dropped three silver dimes on the counter. "Yes," was the gruff reply. She watched the nimble fingers of the clerk as he mixed her three pretty specimens. "I want them for baby," she ventured to explain. "Whatvdoes baby want of flowers?" "Nothing; she's dead," and the little face went down with tears in the big, dark eyes. The clerk slipped in more white roses, more yellow, and more green, and when the girl looked up a pretty wreath was handed to her, and the money, too, was shoved back to her. Tho clerk buried himself in tho ice chest, hunting for what he did not want, until she wont out a happy girl?happy as she could be with death at home.?Chicago New, " ' V/ \ < ' ' ' ~T - y>o., > V ? THE JOKERS' BUDGET. A I.JTTI.E IimiOKOUH ItEADINO FOR " THE LGIHUUE IIOIKS. 11 f In the I.lino?Klln dub?Tlie Utile lice Illve g ?In tbe I>II11?*? He Held tho Hbeep?A r Klave?Tlie Ilnir OrcMMcr, Etc., Etc. AN IMPORTANT DOCUMENT. The Hon. Canterbury Johnson, who ^ had been wiggling around on his bench j in the Lime-Kiln Club for some time in an uneasy manner, now arose anil said j, he would like to oiler a resolution. I "Am it a wery important docker- j ment?" asked the President. ] "Yes, sail?wery." "Well, you kin oiler it, although it am a leetle late." Brother Johnson then sent to the j Secretary's desk the following: ? lie solved, Dat it am de sentiment of i dis Club dat Ireland should permit Eng- { land to govern herself, nn' dat from dis s date, until de English people hev se- } cured deir fuil rights an' privileges from j j uu uiiaiiuii incnsnunci, <us v iui> noius s no furder intercourse wid Ireland. ? Some of the members had turned pale ( before the reading was half finished, , and at its conclusion there was a silence \ twenty-four feet deep in the hail. ( Brother Gardner looked at Canterbury a ] lonir tune, and then said : i 4,De Committee of de Interior will , take dat man to room 'G.' and put his head to soak ober night in a bread-airmilk poultice! His brains am dewlopin' altogether too fast. I)e rest of us will now sing de closin' ballad, an1 go , i home, an' it will be well for all of you j i to remember dat de umbrella wid de ; i l~ Z4.~ 1 1 11- A. J--1 *_ -3- I i >vinli; uuuc Jiiunnu uul uur m uc cioaK < room belongs to me." i THE BEE HIVE. * ? " 1 * + ; * * * * * * Obseivc * + * 1 * These busy little * * * bees a laying up their * * + * honey aud tTy to be as * + * wise as these by saving all * 1 * * your money. You smoke, say, * 1 * five cigars away, and drink, say, * * 1 * * six times dady; cards, pool and billiards, too, you play, and * 1 * treat the fellows gaily. In twenty years this fun will cost, ac- * + + * cording to good scholars, with 1 interest and time that's lost, * 1 * just ?20,000. But if you count 1 your loss of health and self-inilicted trouble, you'll find this foolish waste of wealth will figure more than double. Then when it's 1 time no more to slave, but pleasure take, so sick you will feel because you didn't save you'll want some one to kick you. So immitatc those busy bees and all your pennies treasure, and then, when older, take your easo with forty years of pleasure. ? Chicago Sun. IN SAN FRANCISCO. i Tl/e San Francisco girl of 1885 is principally remarkable for her ability to express with a double back action combination of conciseness and volubility. } She has a clever trick of economizing time and space by running two or three words together. She never pauses for the ordinary obstructions of grammar, ' and when clear, comprehensive English fails her, she instantly resorts to words of her own coinage. The T. C. offers as an example the following intercepted conversation: "'Lo! Whereyergoin?" " 'Lo! Jus downear to the dressmaker's." "Dressfinisht?" "31m ? mm! Not quite; 'sgointube lovely!" "Howshimakinit?" "Oh! I dunno; litle jiggers down the front and pleatinsroun the bottom- sorter spraugly effect. Musrurry ? good-by!" ? IfcicsLetter. IIE SERVED. Judge Thomas A. Moran, of Chicago, has a large family of children, of a 1 of I whom he is justly proud. The day after he h:td been presented with twins he was listening to jurors' excuses, when a man who had been drawn said, mildly: "Yotir Honor, I can't serve." "Why not?" asked the court, in tones that had been stereotyped, as he looked out of the court room window. Approaching quite close the juror whispered, "My wife 1 has just given birth to a boy. Judge." "No excusc at all," observed the Judge, ns he closed his docket with a bang,' "my wife had two Inst night, and I have been here all daj\" The juror served. : ? The Argonaut. ! JABBERING. During the long French war two old ladies in Scotland were going to the kirk. The one said to the other, "Was it no' a wenderfu' thing that the Breetish were aye victorious over the French in battle?" "Not a bit," said the other I -lady; "dinna ye ken the Brectish aye say their prayers before gain into battle!" The other replied: "But canna the French say their prayers as weell?" The reply was most characteristic. "Hoot! Sic jahberin' bodies; wlia could understan' them?" ONLY IIIS I*EACE OP MIND. "Old man Pennybunker has married again." "You don't tell me so." "Yes, and he has married a right young girl, forty years younger than he | is." "Well, I declare. His other wife only died six months ago and he went on so at the grave that I expected that he would lose his mind." "Well, you see your prediction has come to pass."?Texas Siftings. INTELLECTUAL IIAm DRESSING. iriss Angelina (to Miss Belle, her rival, just now surrounded by a bevy of admirers)?Oh, dear, do tell nib how you do your hair up so charmingly. What do you do it. up on? It looks so intellectual! Miss Belle (who wears her hair high) --Well, I'll tell you, dear. I generally do it up over brains, and (sweetly) I don't think you can buy them at the iialr stores.?Boston JowrnaL. THEY IjlVB ON IT. ' ,4What relation, Bobby," said Mr. > Dobbins to his first-born, "am I to your mother's father?" Bobbie?"He's your fodder.** "Nonsense; how can he be that?" ''Fodder is what folks live on, ain't it?''?Ringhamton Republican. > '. - i . A ? v,'.''vii. HE HELD TITE fcflEEP. lie came into a butcher shop and sked for half a pound of mutton chops, t was unmistakable that his business icccssitated-his calling "c-a-s-h" quite requcntly. As the man of the cleaver awed, cut and chopped, the purchaser emarked in a weak-kneed voice: "Aw, I was a butcher once myself."" "You a butcher?" said the sausage :ompounder contemptuously. "Yes, aw. You see, I went into themsiress, aw, and they lirst told me to lold a sheep down on the lloor, don't on know, and, good ged, they stuck a [iiife right into the poor beast's throat. , aw, fainted, and. when I came to, I eft the hawwid business, aw, and now sell dry goods."?Detroit Free Pratt. THE MILLS. "How many mills make a cent, ?apa?" asked Johnnie Criinsonbeak just is he finished the feat of seeing how ong he could hold up the family cat by *ae tail. 'Ten, my son," replied the iffectionate Crimsonbeak from behind lis evening paper. "You must carry ots of change around with you, then," said the innocent boy. "Why so, my ion?" "Because I heard mamma say his morning that you spent most of ,'our time in mills." "Oh, but Johnnie, ,'ou make a mistake!" exclaimed Mrs. Crimson beak, without stopping her cnitting: "I didn't mean that kind of nills. I meant gin mills!"?Yonkerz 'Statesman. (iOOD ADVICE APPRECIATED. Occasional Churchgoer (to minister)? rhat was trood advice you gave this morning, Mr. Goodman, about laying jp treasures where neither moth nor* uiai V'dit uuiiU|Jt, mill WllfIC LIIIUVL'S CUUnot break through nor steal. Minister (earnestly)?It was, indeed, sir, and I trust you will profit by it. Occasional Churchgter -1 intend to. Every cent I can raise goes into land. Moth and rust can't hurt land, and nothief can steal it. a SLAVR. 'My dear sir, it is current that you ire a veritable slave to your wife. Now, i man should have some independence; tie should fix the line somewhere." "I know it; I fixed it last night," was the doleful response. "You did, eh? Glad to hear it." <4Yes, I fixed it. It was from the back stoop to the henhouse, and contains yesterday's washing."?Bingliamf.on llcpublicun. N ECES8 A It Y IXKOIt M AT ION. Hotel Clerk?Excuse me, sir, but you ire Col. Blood, are you not?" Col. Blood?Yes, sail. <Hotel Clerk?From Kentucky! Col. Blood?Yes, sail. Hotel Clerk?Room 444. 'Col. Blood?Yes. sah. TT-i-1 rn 1_ m. 1-- r~\ i * rm iiuiui vyiui k.? uniuivs, v;oionci. inc three bottles attached to the wall of your room are hand grenades; their contents are to be used in case of fire only. THEY DO. Ponsonby?Education' Don't tell me! America is far behind Europe. Why, sir, 4ook at Fran - e, for instance." Bagley?Well, what ot France?" Ponsonby?Well, sir, even the l'-tle children there can s -ak Fiencn.? Phila. "all. SO TIMS TO SPARE. Robinson (breathlessly)?D-don't stop me, p-please?b-big hurry. Brown?Wlrch way? Robinson?H-liome? 1-lcft trousers?wore l-last week?b-buttons sewc-L ? f-foreot D-D-i ockets. dots ant> dashes. "Abe you asleep, Bobby ?" *Wbyt ma ?" "Because it's time to take ?oui medicine." "Then, I'm asleep!" "The Mikado of Japan never weara a garment that has been washed." The same, we may remark, is true of theAmerican tramp. A shark was recently captured in the East river, near the Brooklyn Bridge, and everybody is wondering why ho wanted to leave "Wall street. Some inquisitive person wants toknow why a tire engine is always called "she." We always supposed* it was because "she" had such a long tongue. Parson Downs confesses that he "don't know in advance what God is goinj? to do." If he did, he probably wouldn't feel so chipper.?Boston Pout. A California murderer went to the gallows with a cigarette in his mouth, lie died soon after. Wo have always contended that cigarettes were unhealthy. Some unscrupulous fellow has forged Mr. E. P. Hoe's name to an inferior story. Mr. Hoe's name has frequently been found attached to inferior stories, but it was not forced.?Binghamtoii lie publican. "Mrs. McCorki.e, arc you in favor oi home rule ?" asked an Irish lady of her neighbor. "Indeed I am," replied Mrs. McCorkle; "I think every womani should rule her own home. I've ruled mine %ver since I was married." A Student of the Dime Novel.? "Come, now, Bertie, kiss your littlesister and make up with her," said mamma to hor ten-year-old boy. "What! the Pawnee Chief bow low topale-face Cry Baby! Mother, you ask too much!" Scotchman'?"What'll y' hao Frenchmen ? "I vil take a drop of contradiction." Scotchman ? "What's that?" Frenchman?"Veil, you put in de whisky to make it strong, de water to make it weak, de lemon to make it sour and de sugar to make it sweet. jjcn you sav, 'Merc s to your ana you take it yourself." "My child, it is necessary you should decide between them." "But I can't, mamma." "You love them both?" "Dearly." "Well, which has largest income ?" "Henry * *75 a week and George has only $70." "Then do not hesitate; ma -v Henry." "Yes, but George has very laryo perquisites, mamma, and you know?" ,4My darling. perquisites don't la**, and $5 a week is a large interest on pro?active perquisites." A prominent Aeotict says tUt fx?*h brushes mxd tooth powders do tiio t?*th moro harm than orood. , >' *V " ..v. < " '/ . '''