The people. (Barnwell C.H., S.C.) 1877-1884, July 10, 1884, Image 1
1. Ib writing to thia office on bnriiim
nlwnja giro you name and Poet office
addnee
1 Badnem lettera and oommosica-
tiona to ba pabliahed ahoald be written
on eeparate abeeta, and the object of each
clearly indicated by neceaaary note When
required.
S. Article^ for publication ahoald be
written in a clear, legible hand, and on
only one side of the page.
4, All obangee in advertisements mast
each us on Friady.
VOL. VII.
BARNWELL C- H., S. C., THURSDAY^JULY 10, 1884
$2.00 a Tsar.
’.reaa of the writer, not neeeaaaiily for
gnblleation, bat aa a guaranty ofrgcoi .
T3B PEOPLB
Barnwell 0. H. 8. C.
»
THE STORY OF A LIFE.
Say, what la Ufa ? Tia to be bom
A helpless babe, to greet the light
With a sharp wail, as if the mors
Foretell a clondy noon and night
To weep, to sleep, and weep again,
With sunny smiles between—and then ?
And then apaee the Infant grows
To be a langhing, sprightly boy,
Happy despite hia little woe#,
Were he bnt conscious of hia joy I
To be, in short, from two ten,
A merry, moody child—and then
And then, in coat and trousers clad,
To learn to say the decalogue,
And break it, an unthinking lad,
With mirth and mischief all agog;
A truant oft by field and fen,
And capture butterflies—and then ?
And then, increased in strength and aize,
To be anon a youth full grown;
A hero in hia mother's eye#,
A young Apollo in hia own;
To imitate the ways of men
In fashionable sin—and then?
And then, at last, to be a man,
To fall in love, to woo and wed !
With seething brain to scheme and plan
To gather gold or toil for bread;
To sue for fame, with tongne and pen,
And gain or lose the prize !
And then in gray and wrinkled eld
To mourn the speed of life’s'decline;
To praise the scenes onr youth beheld,
And dwell inthe memory of langsyne;
To dream awhile with darkened ken,
To drop into the grave—and then ?
JoH!) G. Saxb.
J ennies Mission.
BT KLI.A WHKELER.
“Oh, this dull round of small duties,
how tired I am of them all, how I wish
some grand mission in life would come
to me !”
Jennie Orson, the pretty little sohrol-
mistress, leaned her chin upon her band
as she mused in the al>ove manner, and
gazed ont over the gray fields, whose
dreary plowed fnrrows were thrusting
their ragged facoe np through the rapid
ly-disappearing snow-drifta.
“Why, how the snow has gone to
day,” she added mentally, as the
changed appearance of the fields stmek
her eye. It was the last day of March,
and all winter long the anow had been
heaped in miniature mountain ranges by
the roadsides, and on the fields and
meadows. During the last week warm
weather had set in, making rapid inroads
upon snow and ice.
The children came running under the
window where Jennie stood, playing at
“Ronnd the Honse.” Then they flocked
off together toward the brook that rip
pled by the school-honse a few rods dis
tant Jennie watched them absently.
Her mind was not upon her duties that
day. Her plodding round in a country
school room seemed very dull and mean
to her. She sighed for some great and
lofty mission.
“If I could do some one great act,
heroic and noble,” she said to herself,
“I would be willing to die then. What
, is life worth if we must plod on forever
like this ? I am no more than an ant, or
a spider, or a squirrel with the life I
live I How gladly would I give up the
monotony of yean of this routine for one
hour of sacrifice, heroism, and then
welcome death.” .
How she hated her homely life as ahe
looked back over his nineteen unevent
ful years. She had always lived in this
dull country place, ever since she was a
wee child and her parents had emigrated
tq the Weak She had received her edu
cation in this same little school-house,
attended divine service there also—as
the place boasted no church edifice—
and her only knowledge of the world
beyond was obtained by a yearly visit to
the city, fifty miles distant, where the
family supplies were porch seed, and
from a few books and newspapers. Now
she was very tired of it all—tired of her
dnll past, her duller present, her doubt
lessly dull future. Even the thought
of her fond, true lover, Jaok Kellogg,
who was building the house where she
was to reign mistress, annoyed her to
day. ' How poor and monotonous life
stretched before her. How much better
to }>erform some one grand act and die,
than to live on to old age in this dreamy
fashion. It was a very ron^&ntio girl
who stood there in the little school-room
dreaming her discontented dreams, you
see.
Suddenly she saw by the moon mark
that it gas time to call in her scholars.
§ho had no bell—for this wss in the
early days of Wisconsin history, before
the railroads had spread their great iron
spider webs all over the State, and Jen-
nhfa school was conducted on .a very
primitive plan. She took the grest
ruler, w&h which she inflicted punish
ment on the palms of unruly boys, and
rapped lordly on the window. Then she
sat down and waited for the pupils to
oomo trooping in—not with the regula
tion and order which governs sohool-
— rooms in these days, but belter skelter,
hurry akurry, laughing, pushing each
other and playing “®g” to their
bcgches.
“Oh teacher, the ereek is getting aw
ful high,” said Tommy Smith, aa he
plunged into his seat. And Jennie did
not correct him for the improper use of
-“awful,” which proved to be more ap-
• propriate in thia ease than teacher or
• pufitl supposed. •
“I suppose the snows are all melting
and running into it," she answered, ab
sently, aa sh^tqpk Iter place at her desk,
° and by another tap of her rnler indicated
(hat the afternoon session of school was
now in order.
Then she ran her eye ever the room to
ee that no pupils were missing.
“Where is Tod Brown ?” she asked.
‘I do not see him here.” i .i
Tod was the smallest child in the
school, a little boy scarcely five years
old, who was placed in her charge, not
so much to learn his primer, as to keep
him out of his mother’s way. She was
burdened with two smaller than he be
sides a babe in the cradle.
“I left Tod down by the creek,” an
swered Tommy Smith, “playin’ throw
pebbles into the water. I told him schoo’
was called.”
‘ ‘You should have brought him along.
Tod is only a child,” Jennie said, reprov
ingly. “But go and bring him now; and
hurry, for your lesson in arithmetic
comes on directly.”
Tommy came back In a brief apace of
time, whiter and frightened.
“Tod is stannin’ on a stone andoryin’,
and the water’s all round him,” he said.
“I couldn’t get near him at all”
The whole school rose en masse, and
Jennie at the head of the small army
led on to the rescue of Tod.
Yes, there he stood on a stone which a
little tune before had been on the shore;
bnt now, alas, was in the midst of the
rapidly-swelling stream, beyond the
reach of any in that little group.
“Mamma! mamma,” he called in
piteous tones, “come and take Tod. Tod
is ’frald. Come, mamma, come 1”
Jennie looked over her little flock of
pupils who crowded about her. Notone
of them was large enoogh to wade ont
and rescue Tod. The only !>oy in her
school who might safely have attempted
this had remained at home that day to
assist his father.
The water was rising higher every
moment What was to be done most be
done qnickly, or the angry waves would
seize poor little Tod and sweep him away
down the swelling stream.
“John !” cried Jennie, speaking to the
mrgest Doy in the flock, “you stand here
on the Lank, while I wade ont to Tod. I
shall want yon to take him from my arms
as soon as I have him safe. Some of the
larger girls must hold fast to your coat,
so that you do not fall into the atream.”
Then Jennie drew her skirts close
Ai>out her slight figure and plunged
bravely into the oold waters, sinking
almost to her waist at the first step.
Slowly, slowly, she made her way to
ward the ciying child, the waves rushing
up higher over his feet every moment
The little flock on the shore hnddled
together like frightened lambs, watching
their teacher with wide, distended eyes
and sobbing ont their fear and terror, as
she slowly forced her way against the
waves.
Another effort, another plange and
she had him in her arms. Then ahe
tried to make her way back to shore, bnt
the waters were growing more furious
every moment, as if angered at the loas
of their prey. They almost swept hor
from her feet—they dashed above her
shoulder, and her little burden screamed
and straggled with terror, making her
task tenfold more difficult;
“Juat another atop, teacher, and I’d
catch hold of him,"- cried John from the
shore, reaching out aim oat his whole
length over the waters, while two sob
bing girls held fast to the skirta of hia
xiet.
xt was an exciting scene, a wild mo
ment of suspense. Jennie’s face was
white as chiseled marble; her long black
hair had fallen from ita fastenings and
floated back over the billows like a dark
mantle; her eyes were large with fear,
her mouth drawn with pain, and her
slender form swayed as if her strength
were well nigh exhausted.
With one last mighty effort she laid
her burden in John’s outstretched arms.
Tod was saved I
A wild shout of joy and triumph rose
from the excited band on shore, and
they flocked about the prostrate form of
the almost inanimate child.
Just then a great wave swept down
upon Jennie, lifted her from her feet,
just as she was about to grasp the shore,
and bore her rapidly down the stream
like a light piece of driftwood.
As she was whirled away the whole
events of her past life aroee before her;
that life, which only an hour before
seemed so poor and mean and dull to
her. Ah, now how precioas and bright
and 'beautiful it became! She remem-
bered her rash wish, that she might be
given some one heroic act to perform— 1
and then die. The act had been granted
her almost instantly, and she had peb
formed it heroically. But now must
she carry out the remainder of her
thought, and die I Oh, death was so
dark—so oold ; the unknown seemed so
terrible ; she was so young, and life was
so sweet!
She thought of Jaok, her lover, and
the half-oompleted house. Life with
him there, that an hour before had
seemed a dreary, monotonous waste,
i shone upon her like the departing
shores of some lost paradise. Oh, to
see his dear eyes amiling fondly upon
her, onoe more to hear hia voice; life,
youth, love, how precioas they all were I
s Then all grew blank. “Jaok, Jaok, I
am so oold. Oh, God I #ave me—pity—
forgive,” ahe cried, andathen sank away
into unconsciousneas.
Two miles below the aqjtool-hoase
they found her tossed on ahere with a
mass of driftwood. Quite deed they
pronounced her at first, and the old vil
lage doctor
Bnt Jaok Kellogg would not listen to
any of them.
“She is not deed,” he cried. “How
dare yon tell me such a thing I She is
all vs, and will look up and smile in my
faoe
They shook their heads, and thought
the poor boy had gone mad, aa he set to
work over her. But they all lent a help
ing hand, and every restorative known
to them was applied to the pallid figure
of the young girl
It was hours before they saw any
signs of returning life. Then she drew
a deep, quivering sigh, opened her eyes
and smiled, even as Jack had said she
would, into his loving face bent anxious
ly above her.
“Is this heaven ?” she asked in a whis
per. “I thought I died 1”
“You went out dear to the very
threshold of death,” Jack answered, as
he clasped her in his arms, “but love
was stroug enough to bring you back. ”—
The Witcontin.
FASHIONABLE IAIR.
A CHAPTER ABOUT HAIR OOOBW AN»
WHERE TRET COMB PROS.
Preaek Hair
wh* Ursw Resalar
SAM WARD DEAD AT 70.
A Conuplruoun Figure In Morlal and PollCU
rnl l.ilr.
It is said of the late notable Sam
Ward that after his house iu Now York
failed, in 1847, through a heavy specula
tion in wheat Ward found himself a poor
man. After drifting around for a time,
he was seized with the gold fever, and
went to California as one of the ’49era.
There, with ex-Oovernor Price, of New
Jersey, he established a mercantile and
auction honse, and rapidly accumulated
a large fortnue. This he lost in a fire,
and then he tried his hand at mining,
bnt with poor suocees. Discouraged
and disgusted with civilization, it is said
that he took refuge among the Indians,
and tanght them to cook dog so lucioosly
that they elected him chief of the tribe.
He lived in Mexico, Europe and this
country. He went to Washington, and
there he found an occupation entirely
congenial to bis nature. He became a
lobbyist, and was so successful and pop
ular that he was known as the “Ring of
the Lobby.” He lived in Washington
for many years, and gave innnmerable
dinners, the reputation of which spread
over the land. It was his profession to
win Congressmen over by these dinners
and by his fine liqnors, of which none
had so fine a judgment He had a fac
ulty of bringing enemies together at
these dinners and sending them away
friends He ate very sparingly himself
and therein was the secret of his good
health. t
Though he received a great deal of
money at Washington, he never saved
any of it, and he remained a poor man
until 1881. Then he met Mr. James B.
Keene, who had recently came on to New
York from California. He became Mr.
Keene’s boon oompamion, and was ad
mitted to a share in hia speculations,
and from them he realized a fortune esti
mated at half a million dollars. When
Keene waa taken seriously sick, Ward
nursed him and took him to Long
Branch and other places for his health.
He now resumed his course of dinner
giving in New York. He gave dinners
to Oscar Wilde, Mrs. Langtry, and
other celebrities. He was a member of
the New York Club, and was often seen
IheA. Within a year he lost the greater
pau-t of hia last fortune in unfortunate
speculations, and, aa a result, in the fall
he left for Europe rather suddenly. He
said he wanted to go where he oould
live cheaply, and that he did not intend
to return. He died in London at the
age of seventy years.
Waiding-
F MBnnyBWvro "I
One of the moet fashionable and at
the same time one of the moet
strangely assorted marriages of the sea-
•on was solemnized in St. Peter’s Church,
Eaton Square, London. The bride
groom waa Sir John Lubbock, Bart, a
partner in the immensely wealthy bank
ing house of Roberta, Lubbock A Co.,
M. P. for London University, a Fellow
of the Royal Society and a well known
dilettante scientist, especially in the do
main of entomology and natural history,
qeis a rich widower, just fifty years of
age, very tall and thin; has a thin, pip
ing voice, weak, squinting eyes, and has
been for years a martyr to gout, which
confines him to hia bed most of the time.
His last appearance in the House of
Commons waa at the time of the divis-
’ ion on the vote of oensure, when he left
his sick bed and hobbled on crutches to
his place in the House to give his vote
to the government.
He managed to discard his crutches
on the wedding day, and marched brave
ly down the aide of St. Peter’s with hia
feet enveloped in huge doth boots, and
aa he stood before the altar he repeated
the marriage vows in a troubled, quer-
rulous voice, to an accompaniment of
spasms of pain from the goat.
The bride was Mias Fox Pitt, daugh
ter of General Rivers Pitt, of the British
army, and the granddaughter of a peer.
She is both young and beautiful, and was
superbly dressed in a robe of ivory satin
brocade, trimmed with orange blossoms
and lihas of the. valley, and garnished
with pearl and diamond stars, the cos
tume being valued at (3,000
None trifle with God and make sport
of sin so much as those whose way of
livings interfere with their prayers; who
pray perhaps for sobriety and wait daily
, for an answer to that prayar at a,
or a '
“Human hair goods are worn more
row than they ever were,” said a dealer
who does a _ ge business In such articles
“All claeses of ladies wear them—young,
middle-aged and old—some for use, but
more for ornament. Men wear wigs
only Rhen they cannot help it Women
wear false hair to add to their charms.
Short hair is in demand now, in the
form of Lisbon and sea-foam waves and
frizzes, and the favorite color is chest
nut-brown. THE golden shade, so much
in fashion i few years ago, has fallen 60
per cent, in price.”
“Where does the supply of artificial
nair come from?” "Nearly all from
France and Germany, with a little from
other parts of the Continent and Eng
land. The largest quantity and best
quality is from France. It is not the
hair of dead persons, as many imagine,
bnt comes from the heads of living peas
ant girla. It is gathered by peddlers,
who buy it for a trifle—a silk handker
chief, or some other trifle which pleases
the fancy. There are in France regular
'hair-raisers,’ that is, girls who have
their hair cut for sale every four years.”
“What is the most expensive kind of
hair?” "Natural silver white like this
is worth (18 or (20 an ounce; so you see
it is worth more than its weight in gold.
Bleached white hair is worth only (3 an
ounce. Natural hair of ordinary shades
is worth from $5 to (20 a pound, except
the hair collected by ragpickers, which
brings only from (1 to |3. The value
of different colors of hair depends on the
fashion. Yellow hair not golden is al
most nseless to us.”
“I suppose there have been great im
provements made in your art in late
years ?” “Yes, indeed. You oould tell
an old-fashioned wig a mile off, but now
I can make a wig that will defy detec
tion. A great many top-pieces are worn
by men, like thia.”
Here the hair dealer, greatly to the
surprise of the reporter, lifted np what
was to all appearance the natural hair
on the top of his head, and disclosed s
cranium aa bare as s billiard ball
“I suppose you sell a good many light-
colored waves to dark-haired ladies?”
“Ah, yon may see many a pretty blonde
on the street with black eyes, which she
cannot hide, and black hair, which she
can. Fashion rales all Just now the
color is medium brown, bnt there are
constant ohangea in style, enoogh to
keep one 'on the go’ all the time.”
Wiping Ont a Regimest.
«' ■'■I ■
Any time daring the wax, after the be
ginning of 1863, it' would have been
hard to find a regiment in the field nnm-
bering ita full complement of one thou
sand men. There were many having a
strength of not more than three hun
dred and fifty or lour hundred, particu
larly on the Confederate side. In vari
ous severe encounters regiments were
decimated, and in some oases lost half
their strength, bnt it was rarely that a
body was so completely wiped ont that
there was nothing to rally on. At the
battle of Pleasant Hills, La., s Texas
cavalry regiment, numbering three hun
dred and forty-eight men, were seen
forming (or a charge against s Federal
brigade of infantry. The latter bed
good cover and were treah. The cavalry
had to daah across a field to reach the
line, and before they fleme Ike com
mander of the brigade passed atong be
hind his two Unas and
to hold (bsir fin unMl
given. Each pair wery instructed to
fire at one cavalryman—er, rather, one
at the man and the other at the hers*
The cavalry made the charge in one
line, but it waa so much shorter than
the front of the brigade that three ftraa
oould be concentrated. The Ooarfed-
eratee came forward with a daah and a
yell, keeping a pretty even front until
they were within one hundred feet of
the line when all the muskets rang ont
together. One volley waa enough.
That regiment war so nearly blotted off
the face of the earth that only four of
its members returned to the Confederate
lines. Over two hundred homes were
killed outright, end st least another
hundred wounded. There were not ten
wounded men to pick up. Every Fed
eral had a dead aim and a close target.
—M. Quad.
Stories of the Bar.
At a dinner given by the late Judah
P. Benjamin to Mr. Evarta, Benjamin
mentioned, apropos of the interruptions
of Judges, that in an argument before
the House of Lords, a very learned
member of that body, having frequently
interposed, at last met a proposition of
hia with the ejaculation “Monstrous I"
on which Mr. Benjamin tied up hia
papers, bowed, and retired. The noble
lord subsequently sent a public eooeiUa-
tory message, and made every possible
reparation. Mr. Evarta capped this
story with one from this aids of the
water. A lawyer who had often been in
terrupted in a difficult ease stopped, and,
facing the bench, said: “I hate told
your Honors that thia is a pusling
mm) I am afraid it will be made
mure so if your Hanorz put questions
mors puzzling than the facts
YU PRACTICAL HOUHEKEKFRR.
f■*»*■»« Haw t* Os»a Them aaS Wlmt la
Ha With Tfcaaa l.rft Ovar.
[From Harper’s Basar. ]
Smoking hot, delicately Jarowned, and
driieiona. Who doesn’t wish the week
brought mere than seven breakfasts, if
only every household fairy oould be in
duced to present them in such a tempt
ing form?
To have them moist, and yet free
from an abundance of grease, depends
entirely upon two things—the condition
of the fire and the lard; for lard it most
be, fresh, firm, and sweet, for neither
drippings, shimmings, nor any of the
other little economies the heart of the
mistress is so spt to delight in will
answer so well, no matter how nicely
rendered. Put in st first s generous
■apply, snd see it becomes smoking hot
over a fire not too bright at first, bnt
steadily increasing in temperature. On
these two commandments hang sli one's
skill and success.
The mashed potatoes left from dinner
can be presented at the next morning’s
breakfast in a very attractive and tooth
some form. While yet worm, add a
small quantity of milk, or, better still,
good cream, until, like the very little
bear’s chair in the charming story, it is
neither too hard nor too soft Put the
mass into a vegetable dish sufficiently
large to cover the bottom of it about an
inch in depth; work in evenly and nicely
with a spoon until it is smooth, and set
■side to become oold. When ready to
use, torn out the dish, snd cut into strips
that will be an inch in width and thick
ness, snd two inches in length. Fry, or
rather boil, in enough lard to cover them,
as oysters or donghnnts, snd when
browned all over, remove, and laying on
s napkin, put in the oven s few rnffintes,
where they will drain off all extra fat,
snd st the same time ke«f their heat.
If of the right consistency, and rapidly
cooked, the potatoes will be crisp and
brown on the ontside, bnt soft and
creamy within. Gsraish with parsley
■prigs, and send to table in aft odd fancy
china dish.
The double pans having the inner one
pierced with innnmerable tiny holes, or
made entirely of wire, are the nicest
They are sold at the honse furnishers’
lor frying oysters, but are equally nice
in cooking other articles of food. A
piece of heavy wire is fastened st oqe
side of the outer pan, comes up to and
hangs over the top, having at the end a
hook on which the inner vessel is hong,
and drains off the snperfiaons fst The
lifting out snd danger of breaking in
pieces any delioato article of food are
thus also avoided.
Chop very finely oold boiled potatoes,
and cook slowly to sufficient fat about
twenty minutes. Do not let them brown
the leest particle, bnt only take ont the
and become very hot and
er. To one pint of
two tablespoon tola el
and half of a »w
egg. Beat them w«B together; take
the potatoes from the pen, and stir to.
Season with pepper and aalt; pal to the
same pea, and replace or the fire, first
pressing well down with a spoon, that
they may lie nompaatfr over ita whole
snrfaee. Do uoistir them, bat let them
become niociyfcbunwnmd or the under
side, which will be to about fifteen min-
ntee. Hove an oval dhdi well wanned;
place it ow the pan, and then, revert
ing the position of the two quickly,
there will be a sort of potato omelet to
good shape, and its nicely browned ride
on top.
In plane of chopping the potatoes for
ordinary frying, one can make a pleas
ant change by forking them. When
well boiled, and the aktos removed,
work with a silver fork unto there la a
fine flaky mans, even to tentoee, and
looking very light and inviting. Either
cook them plainly to plenty of boiling
laid, stirring frequently, or adding
or ram and egg If preferred.
In a email skillet heat half a pint of
rich milk, sliding into It six or right
medium-sized potatoei previously
boiled and sliced across. Stir together
four tableepoonfols of cream and hall
the raw yolk of an egg; pour over the
eon tents of the skillet, shaking to and
fro, bnt not using a spoon to stir them,
ontil they give one good bubble. Take
from the fixe, odd salt, pepper, and a
generous amount of butter. If desired,
a very little finely chopped parsley may
be added.
COL. CAft* AND KM MAD SON.
Mvsrttts That the Ts— Mas Ha4 Mas
BraaatK M
A letter from Colombia, B. 0., says
the' recent tragic death of W. Bogan
Cash, only son of Ool. E. B. 0. Gash, ia
stOl the theme of public comment, and
there are two views of the matter. No
one questions the justice of the late
which overtook him, while public feel
ing is fairly divided aa between those
who would have preferred that thede-
oeased had so acted aa to let the law
mete ont the punishment for his crimes,
ss a jury of his countrymen would have
unhesitatingly determined. The young
man had been of a turbulent character
his whole life. He had been s prtoeipsd
in two duels, instigated a third, killed a
peace officer, mortally wounded an inof
fensive citizen, and finally met hia death
with 20 wounds while resisting s Sheriff's
posse. Young Cash had inherited all of
the violent traits of his father, and
neither of them oould conceive of any
atonement for real or fancied wrongs
save by I he nhedding of blood. Both of
them were men of excellent educational
training, and the father wss possessed
of gem-rons impulses, but the love of
strong drink snd disregard for human
life debased their natures.
Col. Cush will be bronght to trial the
latter part of this or the first of next
month on the charge of being aa acces
sory before snd after the killing of Town
Marshall Richards snd the mortal
wounding of James Coward. While
there never waa much expectation of his
conviction, it is probable that the death
of his son, the principal actor to the
double deed of blood, will have appeased
public wrath to justify the acquittal or
very mild punishment of the old man,
whose life is now s complete wreck to
every respect. Ool. Cash has two
daughters—one married, who, with bar
husband and child, was at bar father's
house when her brother wss killed, and
a single daughter, who teaohea a school
in Spartsnbnrg, 8. 0. It is probable
that the father would have been buried
iu the same grave with his sou had Bogan
Cash been bemmed in at tha paternal
mansion, but Bogan was surrounded to a
barn on his own plantation, about five
miles from OoL Osah’s home. A servant
of the household, upon being anted how
the Colonel took the death of Mis son,
replied: “Mighty hard f Mighty hard f”
James Coward, the anfortuBSto vic
tim of Bogan Gash’s pistol practice, still
lingers, with no possible hope of recov
ery, and with no immediate proapeei of
release from his sufferings. His entire
body below the wound
alysed. Where the bell
where it waa extracted have
and seem healthy, but bed
forming. Coward Is very uhmfnl undre
the dreams tanoes.
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WHA* WH FINn IM -max TO O.RIIR
OVER.
AR OLD FABLE BEVOVD.
“Look here, waiter,” walled a feeder
at a rity restaurant, “took st the hair I
found to this turtle soup.”
“Yes, I see. You have heard of that
famous race between the turtle snd the
barer
“Yea. What of It?”
“Why, to this case the hair and tur
tle came to even.”— The Hooner.
THE CLAES OATHBEtKO.
“Where is the bar?” asked a gentle
man, hnrriediy, as he registered st a
Chicago hotel.
“Just around to the left, sir.”
“Where is the bar ?” asked another
gentleman, at the same place a moment
later. -
“Just around to the left, sir."
“Where is the lu-—”
“Just around to the toft, sir. By
Jove,” the clerk continued, “the dele
gates are beginning to oomo in.”—The
Vali,
WHAT THE DISEASE WAS.
Dumley cama into the dining-room
and, easting s sweeping glance over the
table, janftnod down into his chair and
muttered under his breath:
“Liver again, of coarse. We’ve had
liver every morning for few* weeks. ”
“What's the matter, Mr. Dumley?”
asked the landlady; “arn’t you feeling
well this morning ?”
“No, madam,” he replied, shortly, “I
am suffering with liver complaint.”—
Philo. Eve. Cull
MOBTAB FOB MASOBS.
“I can't finish pteetering you house
until I get more esud,” said a plasterer
to s groeerymsn the other day.
“How much sand will you require?”
asked the groceryman.
“About three bushels wfll do, Igoees. ”
“Here, John,” arid the gicoalman,
“roll out another barrel of
eager sad scad it np to my
I want to keep the plasterers st
•That woaltde,” said the;
“Why, ian’t that good eaod?”
“Not very good; and hmldm, those
bees to the gutaL RtU be eamtently
well raipsdtogether
polsI mPpis two
rich milk or cream
Fortunes hi Degs.
Among the (860,000 worth of dogs ex
hibited a* the New York show, were
some worthy of note. Two were (10,-
000 dogs. One is a deer-hound sod the
other a pointer. Qf course no one
would pay (10,000 for either, but that’s
the value placed on each by their re
spective ownere. There are seven! dogs
supposed to be worth from (1,000 '
(6,000. The (10,000 pointer (Meteor)
took the prim for dogs of that breed.
His competitor was an English dog
(Beaufort), and the international rivalry
over the two wee aiaiost m strong as at
the walking match. The large English
contingent pimeut maintained that the
Epgihh dog should get the first prise,
Americans hold that the Ameri
can dog was entitled to tt. Many bets
■ada m to which would get It, and
the judge decided to favor of the
dog, about (6,000 changed
THE CZAR DOOMED TO DIE.
PU* Nihilist* Plural’ll a Decree Waralas
Hha at III* Fate.
Reports from Russia says that the
Russian Nihilists have renewed their ac
tivity and begun a new campaign of ter
rorism in the province of Moscow. They
have placarded that province and Ha cap
ital with hundreds of copies of a mani
festo conveying a threat of death to the
Czar. As these placards were all posted
on the same night, sad as each person
engaged to the work could have posted
but very few of them owing to the neeee-
rity of avoiding the police, it is evident
that the Nihitiria most have la their
ranks a large number who are willing to
risk their liberty In the prereentiou of
such an entorprire. Tfc
reminds the Osar that ha
May, 18(1, that If be would avoid the
into which had befallen hie father two
months before, he most gnat s consti
tutional fora of government red organ
inf aparfiament composed of raprmmto-
lives of the yoopln During
yearn that havs followed this
the proclamation says, thcwvolutfaabti
have suspended their agitation, but now
that this warning has been so tong an-
heeded they inform the Omr that he
moat be prepared to be dealt with an
pitilessly and removed re suddenly as
his father and predecessor. The police
tore down the placards before most of
the cittoeus were stirring, sad have made
strenuous efforts to-ffnd the pereens who
printed and posted them. Many students
pf both sexes have been arrested on
picion, and a thorough search has been
made of the offices of all newspapers and
printers suspected of disloyalty. None
of the peculiar type used in printing the
placards has been discovered, however,
and the polios believe that it wss melted
np immediately after bring need.
Caeetul.—Prof. Ranger, ea feeding
lia monkeys, to Paraguay, with eggs,
ibeerved that at first they smashed
and then wasted much of thrir contents;
bnt they soon learned to
against some hard body and pick off the
bits with thrir paws, wd if they cut them
selves onoe with any shop tool, they
would either not touch it again or k
it with the greatest caution. Lsunpa of
sugar were given them wrapped np in
paper, and anmetimm a Uvu
wre put in to try ffiem, re that to harifly
opening the paper they got riuug; but
after this had ones oeoaxred they always
held tha packet to thrir earn to detect
any
Disease comes to by
and goes out by i
to rack tha ewaatoem oat of
after it is ptaateredon the walla.”
“Dot maoh, my friend. Quern yon
ian’t know my sugar. If the beee suck
any sweetness out of It they wfll do some
of the dangdest hardest reeking you
ever saw I”—Parte.
! Urn by the eoai
‘Don'tstop me!” yetted
to get free,
nythteg wrong F
drop.
“No, no, bat let me go.”
“What ere yon ruahtog ee for r
"Oh, hang it, Pm walking for
gaepad Olew-
“If thafe all,”
fag to hia veri pocket,
» without your
death lor a
%
“I .can give you
to
Cbaefttu-
mj
'Ton look like a poet,"
laughed the
dreeeed
The key emflad and began fumbling
to hie poekei
'Maybe yon write eenp, ton”* eng
the newspaperman.
“Yea, aoaretireee,” was Ike anew*.
“Hareyeaffffieae farmer
“Yea, I thtok I have,”
“laItaengby kagor abort metre?”
outs
It waa agre bill
CtmatUMhom.
which ha threw down,
a
mj Mmd, till cone by the
far fUi—Atlanta
xt
XXFFttBKCB.
New York Broker—“No, dear, I can
not take you to Saratoga this year.”
Hte Wife—“You can’t, indeed? I
should like to know why.”
“I «mt afford it.”
“The idea I Why, the Simpentos are
going to Newport just the same as usual,
and Simpfarin has failed, too.”
“Exactly, my dear, and I haven’t”
“Wriir
~ "Why, I have to stay at borne and
ney my debts. n —PAria. Eve. CalL
hriak
What Brices Do.—It 1
oy C*i'ti Gal too, to h : e
•• Healthy Dwellings,” that a 1
containing 100,000 bricks (a
sacking up froto Y to 10 per CeuL olti*
weight of wrier), contains, at a reSeca-
abte calculation, 10,006 galiaoa ri water
in H. Ail thk qnmtityof water faftto
be removed by evopomtioa. rind .the
rapidity of thia pee earn will
the tearien of i
prratare. The rate of