The ledger. [volume] (Gaffney City, S.C.) 1896-1907, January 09, 1896, Image 3
3
THE WEEKLY LEDGER
GA.FFNEY, S. C., JANUARY 9, 1896
SQUIRE RUFUS SANDERS
Tells
a Oharmlnor Story
Backwoods Life.
From
8*4 Naws From t’nntlior Crorls—“Over to
Old Aunt I.lza'd—The <ir4 , nte<t 1*1mco
for Hojrn—A Terrlltlc Knllnir Tivipp,
"Rose* Hero and Sm.w Hankti
Right Out Yonper.”
(Copyrluht.
As for mo, J tiever was a man to bor
row -tKMtoo and grumble at tho good
world wo live in. lint in the com
mon run of everyday life wo arc natur
ally bound to put up with a general
mixtry of ups and downs and overs and
unders—of storms and sunshine,of trials,
triumphs and s
tr i b u 1 ations—
the good as well
as the-bad, the i
daylight and the
dark. Wo are
glad yesterday
and sad today,
, and tomorrow
A there ain’t no
tellin which.
Wo know what
has come and
what has gone, but only the good Lord
knows what is comin next. And it is
all right and proper, I reckon, that Ho
won’t tell us nothin concernin the
things that are yet to be.
Beyond the gold of evenin we must
meet the dusk of night. There are
roses hero and snow banks right out
yonder. You jest simply can't some
times always tell where tho mixtry will
hit you the next time. You maybe
mought play the tray for low whilst
the other man holds the two-spot. Hut
at any rates, takin the years together
as they come and go they bring forth
nothin but what is right and best—
best for you and best for me and best
for everybody else. Naturally of cours ■
there bo some things that don’t look
right and don’t feel right on the first
blush, but they will work out that way
sometime and somewheres down the
line.
fimilyof th Itsihorns in tho old set
tlement. Pr ii time to t me I found
out from Amr Liza that her father and
mother had both died when she wan’t
nothin but, a spring pullet, whilst her
brothers had all got killed off in a big
war with the Indians. I also learnt
from some of tho old heads in the set
tlement that tlx* first, last and onlyest
sweetheart she ever iiad got shut out of
the gitaio in ihe same way.
Ann L za was a powerful hand to
pick i ' all the orpbant boys that got
loft ii them regions. She was what
you n iiigiit call an orpliant her own
sweet old self, and she showed a kind
fellow feohn for all them that got left,
or strayed and straggled oil and lost
from their folks like she did. There
was Billy Johnson and Tom Milligan
and Ned Vickery (“Windy Ned,” as wo
hoys use to call him) and Tobe Holli
day and Jack Heavy and Bans Tim
mons, and some others I can’t now
remember—all of them were loft poor
orphant boys and got picked up by Aunt
Liza. And of them that aro now livin
all will tell you that they had as good
a homo ns any hoys in them regions,
and a heap sight better than some.
Aunt Liza would take a tangly-
headed. bare-footed scrap of a boy and
raise him up as careful and tender as if
he was her own dear child. Soon as he
got big and strong enough ho would
have to work some, mornins and evenins
and in crop time, but he wore plenty of
clothes—them that was nice and clean,
too—and went to school two or three
months every year, poked his feet un
der a good table three times a day —
three hundred and sixty-five days in
the year—and got all the fun and com
forts that any other boy could get out
of a good old country homo. And then
when he got big enough to stand his
ground and fight his own way through
tho world she would give him new
clothes enough to last him a year and
turn him out to run with the dry cattle.
In that way, you understand, she man
aged so as to always have room at her
house for one more orpliant hoy if in
case lie happened along poor and help
less and out of a home.
Aunt I.lza She Is I)ea<l.
Right in the middle of the Christmas
and New Year jubilations wo heard
some sad and terrible news from down
in tho old Panther Creek Settlement.
Aunt Liza Raiborn she is dead and
gone. She died about 12 o’clock on the
night before Now Year. It would seem
like as if there was a general closin out
over to Aunt Liza’s bouse that night—
the close of the day, tho close of the
month, the close of tho year, and the
close of a long and useful and busy and
beautiful life. For a common thing it
takes a heap to make mo solorocholy
and put me on tho mourner's bench.
Mother maintains that I wouldn't look
serious if I was tarred and feathered
and sot on fire a mile from water. But
I have been creepin around and mopin
and droopin a right sharp little bit ever
since we got the bad news from down in
the old settlement. Not to say that I
am tho least ways in trouble as to
where Aunt Lzi went, or how she is
comin on these days, hut mostly on ac
count of how they’ll miss her around in i
the settlement. So far as I know she 1
didn’t have nothin in particlar to make
her want to linger any longer around
down here below. All of her own folks
had went on ahead years and years ago, ,
and for a long time she had jest simply
been “foolin along and piddlin about,”
as she were won’t to put it, and “waitin
for the cat to die.” And yet at tho
same time Aunt Liza had her place in
this world—not a hie place or a high
place to bo certainly, but a bright place
and her right place—and sho filled it
clean out to the edges.
So whilst the fiddlin and feastin, and
frolicin and dancin, and weddins and
quiltins, and bouse raisins and log-
rollins, and shindiggin and footslingins
went on as usual, if not more so, I have
been layin around homo considerable
and keepin up a tromendius big pile of
thinkin.
I reckon Aunt Liza Raiborn must of
been knockin along tolerable dost to a
hundred years old before sho was gath
ered up to her fatbr rs. I am no spring
chicken myself, and there ain’t nocolt’s
teeth in my mouth to speak of, but it
has been "old Aunt Liza” from way
back yonder as far as ray remembrance
runs. So far as we can hear tdi of
there wan’t anything particlar the mat
ter with Aunt Liza when she died.
From the general appearments, and
from what tho neighbors say, it looks
like as if she had. jest simply lived her
life out and tin n fell to sleep—sorter
dried up on the stem and blowed away,
as it were.
When I first come to know Aunt Liza
rale well she was Hvin there on the old
place and runnin it as best sho could,
single-handed and alone. The neigh
bors would call by and drop in now and
then, first one and then another, to see
that she didn’t git sick and lonesome,
and there wan’t a day or night that
come but wbat somebody was there to
pass the timo with her.
S'io itaii the Uoyx Down Fine.
“Over to old Aunt Liza's,” if only a
boy went there oncst, was a place ho
never could forget. There was a big
o’.d dingy-lookin brown house, without
any lightnin rods or hay windows or
fancy trimmins on it. There was big
oak trees out in the yn '. v.hich made
the coolest and most, bulliest place in
tho world for hoys to hang sw.ngs and
build frog houses ami play marbles. It
was always cool and shady-like and
pleasant thore. Out in tho garden
there was a plum wilderness of flowers,
and down back of the garden you would
find the best and biggest orchard for
miles and miles around.
But the mainest thing that made it
such a fine old place for hoys was nothin
but Aunt Liza. She knowed a boy,
with all of his faults and failins, better
than most any grown-up woman I have
| over had acquaintance with. Sho al-
; ways would give us plenty of elbow
I room and a little slack in the rope to
play with. She ruther liked young
j company and sho didn’t mind tho fuss,
j She never got hot and flew off at tho
| handle if wo hoys went wrong and
; somethin git broke. She wouldn’t fuss
with nobody about nothin. When she
went singin and laugbin and talkin sho
would ho humrain soft and lively and
pattin with her foot. She always talked
with tho same voice—low and kind and
gentle like—but y t she was plain and
blunt and prompt and straight as a
shingle in her business. She had as
much sense about runnin a farm and
keepin the place up as any man in tho
settlement, and a blame sight more
than a whole lot of them. Of course
Aunt Liza couldn’t take bolt with her
own bands and lay a fence worm or
drive a six-mule team, but slm could
beat the whole discovered world standin
in the hack door and bavin it done.
The general crops that growed on the
old Raiborn place couldn’t be beat no
where; on Panther Creek, and there
was corn in the crib, and meat in the
smokehouse and meal in the tub and
lard in the gourd from one year into the
other. Aunt Liza must of been some
km to me to the general extent that
she always did believe in feedin, and
she forever had plenty around her, and
that which was good.
Put more than all of that. Aunt Liza
could beat the created world fixin up
thin r s to please a boy and meet the
common wants of his appetite. Sho
Could make the best and biggest bis
cuits, and hike tho best custards, and
pies, and puddins, and dumplins, and
t. rls, and fritters, and flapjacks, and
the mo-1 of thorn, of any old lady 1
ev r y< t have saw. You couldn’t pat*
along by her pantry no timi—summer
nor .vint r—without sundlin the great
rail o. good things sue had cooked up
and pul away, and if it come to pass
that you was a little boy you wouldn't
have to wait so very long before you
could climb up on the outside of your
share.
The Gr«»ie»i Fince for Hoys.
To me it looks plum natural and
right for Aunt Liza to of passed away
from amongst the shiftin scenes of this
vain and fleetin world without any pain
and sufTerin, and without bavin any
thing in particlar the matter with her.
Sho was most in generally always well
both in mind and body—in good health
and spirits—and s e made everybody
around her feel tho same sort of hlessins.
Tho greatest place for hoys anywheres
in the Panther Creek country was “over
to old Aunt Liz i’s,” as we youngsters
use to say. She was livin then where
she always livid and wiien- site died, at
tho old Raiborn place on the Jinks.>n
Trail road over on th“ other side of
Panther Creek. Aunt Lizi never did
have any folks tlr t i can remember of,
but 1 have heard my grandfather say
that oncst upon a timo there was a big
One Terr l»'e Fat In Seni|ic.
i will r collect to my dyin day how 1
trot into a terrible eat in scrape over to
old Aunt Liza’s one time when I w;.s a
boy. Hit was in th" dead of winter,
and the weather was treni' ndius cold,
and maybe you mought know what that
means in r gards to a yearlin boy’s ap
petite. When dinner .got ready that
day there was good old country sausage
and chitlins and sauce, and backbone
and - ; aroribs. end < racklin bread with
tie er eklins in it; then sweet tilings
fri ni the big house to the kitchen and
frr-di sweet milk to w >.-di it all down
wit . So eoiisiqii ntiul iy ! lit in, I did,
a.id st ick iu> kui and fork and spoon
in o eve.i^ duti t at come around. 1
w like a fed drink in good whisky—
(•■ uldn’t tell when 1 got enough — and
a.oil;; about midway of ific eveqii) j was
about the sickest white boy you ever
hoard tell of perhaps. It looked to mo
( .....
like the world wis turn in bottom side
upwards, whilst 1 w is turnin wrong side
outwards. Man, sir. I was mighty nigh
past thinkin, but the first th ng that
popped into my min i was the kind and
gentle and patient face of old Aunt
Liza. I lowed to myself if there was
anybody in this wide and wicked world
which could pull a boy through such a
scrape as that alive. Aunt Liza was that
body. So I worried along till I got
myself back to tho bouse. ;hough I was
monstrous tired totin what I had et, and
laid down two or three times on the
way, hopin maybe somebody mought
come along presently with a wagon and
haul it back for me.
When I got back to the house and
Aunt Liza found out what was the mat
ter with me, she sailed out and flew
around a few minnits anl come in the
house with somethin which she said
would make me git well. I have now
forgot exactly what sort of a name sho
had for the dost sho give me, but that
is neither here nor there. It would of
done as well without any name at all, as
for that. I got there ail ttie same, and
insido of fifteen minnits it had fetched
up everything but my dirty socks and
had them' fittin mighty loose. Aunt
Liza could beat tho 1 vin world when it
come to loadin a hoy up with good
things to eat, and then if ho was neces
sary compelled to unload she could
draw the waddin as slick and quick as
tho next one.
“Jest to Keep tli“ Hujrsjorij OIT.”
When people used to sometimes ask
Aunt Liza what in the round world sho
wanted with so many boys around tho
place, she would always say, “jest to
keep tho buggers off and tend to the
stock.” Thi n sho would must in gen
erally run on to say :
“Somehow or somehow else, I ruther
like tho boys—particlar them that has
been left without a moiiier and without
a home. They are so much company to
a body, and there is room enough right
here on this place for every buy in the
settlement. Toll th“ boys to drop in
and see a body—come when they fuel
like it, and stay as long as tney please.”
I know full well if the youngsters
around in tho Panther Creek country
could of but only had their way, Aunt
Liza Raiborn would of lived on forever
and a few days ov-r. In her day and
generation there was one place where
tho boys could always hang up their
hats and make themselves at home.
And if they took up a notion to havo a
I Christmas tree or a candy pullin, or go
out and hire a fiddler and fetch tho
j girls and jump some jigs and run off a
: few reels, it was perfectly all right
“over to old Aunt Liza’s.” She was
considerably of a church woman at that,
but sho never had went crazy in regards
to religion, and nothin in tiie world
would do her more good, it seems like,
than jest to “let tho young folks have
their way oncst in a while,” as sho
used to put it.
Now I reckon some folks would won
der how it come to pass that Aunt Liza
never did trade herself oil as the wife of
some sorry white man, hut, exceptin
my Aunt Nancy Newton, sho was the
one onlyest old maid I oversaw without
feelin sorry she didn’t git married I
reckon it was best for her—and I know
it was best for a whole passlo of boys—
that the right man never did coutu along
at the right time. Sho was a mother to
tho motherless and a help to the help
ers and a hope to the hopeless, and her
home was a homo to the homeless.
People that ought to know toll mo
that when Aunt Liza was smkin and
droopin into tho last long sleep sho was
talkin out of her uead, and carry n on
with herself constantubout her orphant
hoys. “Tell the boys to como over and
drop in and see a body now and then,"
says she.
And when the evenin bells was ringin
in the glad New Year thore was a
funeral goin on “over to old Aunt
Liza’s.” Rfffs Sanukiih.
NOTES OF VENEZUELA.
Liberty of worship is guaranteed by
law.
The standing army consists of n little
over .'1,000 men.
The republic claims an area of GL’2,-
607 square miles.
The constitution is modeled on that of
the United States.
The emancipation of slaves took place
on March 24, 1654.
The national militia consists of all
males between the ages of 18 and 43.
From 1550 until early in this century
the country was under Spanish domin
ion.
The coast of Venezuela was the first
part of the American mainland sighted
by Columbus.
The monetary system of Venezuela is
that of the Latin convention, the franc
being represented by the bolivar.
Don Guzman Blanco was dictator
from 1870 until Kebrurary 20, 1873,
when he was elected constitutional
president.
It was not until 1845 that the inde
pendence of the republic w nsrccognized
by Spain in the treaty of Madrid.
In 1810 Venezuela rose against the
Spanish yoke, and in the follow ing year
the independence of the territory was
proclaimed.
The pure white population is less
than three per cent. The vast majority
of the people are negroes, Indians, mu-
lattoes and zambos.
Elementary education is well pro
vided for under the law'. There are two
universities, 19 federal colleges and va
rious other public and private institu
tions for higher education.
HISTORY REPEATED.
From the date of the creation to that
of the iioo<l, the Hebrew version cal
culates l.C.iU years; the Septuagint
2,202; liie difference being G0C years.
Dishes of gold and silver used in ta
ble service in 900 B. C., were found at
Troy by Dr. Schliee- nun. On - of these
wua ut*out tho size now employed.
ARP TALKS PEACE.
He Doesn’t Believe Thore Will Be
Any War With England.
Ills Exposition Kxperlenee—t'eeln Hellljf-
erent Toward ii Squesler Who Un-
loa.leil ■'(>in*> Exposition Hand*
kerchief* On Him.
They told mo of various things they
would like to have for Christmas pres
ents for friends an !• posterity. They
wanted seventeen, I think. Of course I
listened in a subdued manner, hut an
elephant had trod on my pocketbook
and it was so flat I couldn’t see through
this business. My wife said that hand
kerchiefs w< ro a good thing—nice hand
kerchiefs were always in order. She had
some in her trunk to send to th? hoys.
There are various tilings in that trunk.
It is a sort of subtreasury, a cache, but
it won’t hold enougli things for the
grandchildren. Dolls and baby car
riages and jumping jacks and picture
books had to bo bought and tome nice
linen handkerchiefs. Well, as I was
turning the Norcross corner I heard a
squealer squealing handkerchiefs.
There was a s;a it of them on a box and
a crowd around and ho was passing
handkerchiefs along for ex train it on.
“Genuine linen, pure Irish linen, all
guaranteed, only 5 cents apiece. Ex
amine them, gentlemen. These are ex
position exhibit goods that we are
obliged to sell out, for wo aro going
home. Home, sweet home,” etc. Never
heard a man squeal more sweetly. I
was shy at first, i ut took hold of the
handkerchief. It was good size and
nicely bordered and looked like linen
and felt like linen, and I heard a man
say "This is linen, sho:e.” S > I tho ght
I had found tho very thing my wife
wanted and I told him I would take ten.
“Thank you, sir,” he said politely, and
he took them off t he folded pile and
wrapped them up and I put them in my
little grip and handed him a doll r—a
silver dollar. He d d nt hand hack the
chanyo, but leaned up <1 >s ■ to me and
wbisp n d, “You are a family man, I
reck- n.” "Yes,” said I. "Well. I will
are we going to get our mo-cenirios
from. W« can’t get any more from
England or Ireland orGerm my or Spain,
where we got them during the last, and
we will need thos“ rebels down South.
The fact Is, they are the b st fighters
the nation has got. We ha-1 five to
their on - in the th Id and then it took
four years to subduo them un i t:ny
have put 900,000 of our im-n on the p n-
sion rolls, besides what th y !:.ll d.
The fact is we are ju t obliged to lo ve
them and now is a go<> i t.ine to t- nd--r
the olive branch. Th it’s what mm
told m-* they said. Now if they will
put our one-leggi-!, one-arm dundo-v -
eyed and disabled v- l- rans on the pen
sion rolls too, wo will have some faith
in their tnagninimi ., but not until
then. It wouldn’t, bo anv very b g
drain on the treasury, for we haven't
but about vet ran; 1 ft, all tol 1,
and not more than one-fuurth of them
would he pensioners.
Our boys have l> en dying for thir y
years, but somehow or ot.ier theirs don’t
die but keep on mu-iipiying. There is
another thing about, it. Tho resolution
was too short ail too stingy of lan
guage. It ough to h ;v* had a preamble
and some worts th t indicated regr t
for tho long delay. In f-et they should
havo apologized and i> ■ rged our pardon
and done the clean th ng w: ilo they
were at it. My fear now is that if th ■
war blows ov-r tn- Grand Army will
raise a rumpus about tuat resolution
and have it rescind-' \ just like they did
the order for the n st if -t.on of the rebel
flags. They hav • li 1 ail tin-olllees and
all tho p nsious i mg. They don’t
want us to have anyl .ing. !5ut we’ii
get even with ti. tn iu rho long run.
See if wo don’t. L . ; of their b< sr, p -o-
ple are moving -1 oa i S ni: h an I in a few
years will h c <iu i -- lever e’ -ntleiMen
and Curisttuns an t pitr its us we ar
and can -ais" th-*ir i ii 1 Iren in a uior.:
atmosphere. Our -■ i mi e anl our s -
cb-ty lias a wont r il elf ct o:i North
ern men.
Well, of course, about half of this is a
joke, an i 1 don’t w t to u ike anybody
mad tills Christmas, ut : ho oh rli.lf
is in earn st. To h sr, t-tugG.-u ra
Grant over s.id u : “1, t us hav-
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e 'hop
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give you twenty more for the other half
dollar,” said he. So I took them and
put them all in my sateh-l. G-o l gra
cious! Th-rty linen handkerchiefs for
a dollar. Enough to k ep all the grand
children’s noses cl an and loavo somo
for me. I was proud.
When my wife o; “ned the package
she was horrified. “Why they ape all
cotton and the veriest, thinnest, sh ziest
cotton at that. You h ;ve been cheated
again, as usual.” Teat rascally queil- r
had handed round a u c - 1 non j. - - 'liter-
chief as a sample and wrapped in poor
thin cotton oil' s so ciu clc we dident sus
pect anything wrong'. Hut they will do
for the noses, 1 reckon. In f .c 1 , I rather
like them for my grip, and 1 carry two
all the time—one for each s-d-*. And 1
bought a b uut ful little d-dl carriage
with a parasol ov-*r it for 29 cents and a
lunch basket and a mice that runs
around on the floor and a >pu d as • and
some otdier little tricks and came borne
happy, for Curistm is is a season to make
others happy. On e.rtli p ace, good will
to men, and especially to the children.
Yes, that’s it! On earth p- ace! We are
not going to have anv war vvitli En
gland. But I’ll bo dogond if Johnny
Hull shall step over hero and take land
that don’t belong to him—land and
water, for there is tue mouth of tho
Orinoco that ought to b ■ open and free
to our commerce. War is a horrible,
devilish business and it on lit to b-
considered s- riously. No, sir! We are
not going to have any war, hut I'll lie
dad bla>ted if Johnny Bull r,hall have
anything over here that don’t rightfully
belong to him—the greedy old rascal.
The fact is, I don’t behove those Eng-
'ish know where Y-n'zuela nor who
Mr. Monroe was, hut they have got a
big map and slake out the earth and
claim to tho stak- s. I'Vty years ago
they put down their stakes on an island
in the Caribbean sea ami ihe Island sank
in an earthquake and went down and
England is still guarding th • bole an 1
waiting for the island to rise again.
That’s what a man told me.
But the idea of war with our old
mother, tied bless her and bless her
noble queen, who for over fifty years
lias been a model woman—a noMe-
hearted lady of tho old-n times- an
illustrious example of good-fashioned,
honest motherhood; had nine children
right st: - ught along and nu 's- d them in
the old-fashioned way and give them
castor oil and s ills and sung to them at
night just like wo do. I h ;ve great re
spect fora woman who has r.iis-d nine
hildren, and 1 have It) per cent more
respect f >r a woman who lias raised up
ten, like m . wife iiaS don"; but I’ll be
ding-donged :f Jo nny Bull, or any
other hull, shall put a chipo i our hat.
Wo are going to inv st jato. Our com-
mittoe will go pur there ana report
md maybe by the Jj’ -urth of .1 u y vye will
know something about ibis liqsiuoss,
and then we will b t it fret »U>n ' fop a
y ar or two and fix up an arbitration,
and by tho your 190 ) tho dispute wijl bo
settled. That’s the way wo did the
Alabama claim and the Behring seal
li ;heri> *. Wen ein’tbe in .ny hurry
about fighting. In fact, it looks like
sacrilege for Christian nations to talk
war during Christmas t im s. We ought
to have w.ited until the Fourth of July
— that’s the time to crow—but old
Johnny Bull had better mind how h-*
steps over our hem sphere. The old
rebs have had their disabilities r moved
and they huvi n't forgotten bow En.*land
treated us thirty-throe yens ago. 1
predictel that- engross would turn ou •
boys 1>> so just as soon as war was
thre.it* n"d. That was nice, wa n t it?
so gen oils, so magnanimous. .After
thirty long years they did it in a day
without ilnbate. We didn't ask it they
hov dlton us. Sherman, Tom Reed
<’o. got together the night after Mr.
lev dand's-war message and said if W-*
should have war with England, wboru
peace,” and ii<* wo o have sa.d it ii
ho hud nt, been a g a ; i-m in.
I have h <1 a bar-l liiu--of it tolay.
My w.f * si d tli at i mu-.L put . n th . :
pane of gi.;-s u st i rs b !'->:•-* the eh.,
dren como. .! >s e was co n .n g liom t
stay awhile and, of co r e, won d
br ng her l». by, an I I i .. -n h r hu'-
band would o • apt, t > follow alou
Weil, of coi.r , tli - p no noist be pu
in, for if there :s nay i.u 1 st n about t
house it is a b o'.- :i p . n • wi t a a ba ; - :
som • rags stu k n tint hole. It;
sign that the m n <-f t e hous<* ai-i’
much account, it's at b.d as a fro -'
gat-- that won’t or- i or shut - asy or a
frontdoor with a uii >b oil'.
Tbis pan ■ wi-. on ,:i tin* upper sis -
and 1 nev- r r a z 1 w.i..t a critical j •!»
it was until I . at it. 1 came v> ry
near falling out of :h“ two-story win
duw, for tho wo.’.; ii.i i t-i h d'-m- fr-- n
the outs.d<‘. 1 a 1 to h dd ou \vitdi ou -
hand and work w.th t ie other and at
last had to giv • t up No 1 g.-t the step
ladder and took out all the stops and
pull 1 d the sash ing J - th ' room hang
ing by ^h** cord-*, and my wife sho
help- d mo an i tho ladder cracked and
creaked amazingly, hut we finally got
tho glU'S :n an i Lack* d an 1 puttied all
right, and th" sash put luck, and th •
sto; s replaced, and 1 thou ;o 1 wasdoi. *.
but sin* wanted tn** old shades taken
down and some now one; put up, and I
had to mount the old st*-p la Idor again.
Sho never lets mo know all that sho
wants m • to do for fear of alarming me,
and that's why sh*- kept the now shades
hid out until I had put in the window
pane. But I got through safely at last
and teceiv- d several benignant smiles.
By tliis timo I was son* rvuii; that win n
1 tried to write I couldent har-lly hold
the pen and that’s what is the matter
with this manuscript. 1 <"in’' r ■ cd it
myiMf and will excuse any mistakes
your tyro makes. Oh, these women who
ar-' always fixing up something'. They
make me so t red. But I gave her a nice
work basket for Christman, 1 did, and
another was sent to 1. ■ fr \1 Flo; !da,
and she is happy too; the fact is, wo ar •
all happy right now.—Bill Arp, in At
lanta Constitution.
BRIEF AND INTERESTING.
Almost the only monument of the
Roman dominion in Egypt, the fortress
of Babylon, at Old Cairo, is being torn
dow n to make way for modern build
ings.
The latest story of the kind is of a
needle which a woman in South Surry,
Me., swallowed 72 years ago, and \\ Inch
prodded its way out of her elbow a
week or two ago.
Beverage, is the suggestive, appro
priate, but noncommittal name of He-
man elected president of a temperance
pociety in North Haven, Me., n few
days ago.
Eighty varieties of microbes, some en
tirely new, have been discovered by
M. Van do. Steen in Amsterdam drink
ing water. None of them are cholera
bacilli.
A German antarctic ex,KclUion litis
been decided upon and 950,000 marks
allotted to it. It will eon. ist of two
vessels, will best three year; i ml will
start south from Kerguelen island.
Kildare and Wicklow have been just
ly termed the garden of In land for no
where is nature more profuse in her
display of the picturesque and the
beautiful.
The nettle is put to a useful purpose
in some parts of Europe by being con
verted into various textile fabrics. In
Dresden a thread from it has b a n pro
duced ro fine and silky that a length
of 00 miles weigh* only 10ounces.
Down to the de >th of 2 > fathoms
where daylight up eats, the eyes of a
fish get bigger and bigrer. H yond
that depth small- yed forms si t in,
with long fillets evcluped to supple
ment the eyes.
Hantlcs
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(L'.i-.i ‘ MonumiHits ;i
i : •!:>'. Agent for
i::0\ Ok-NriCS.
No. \Y. Trade St.,
Charlotte, N . G\