Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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*. I *"*1- 7 THK LEDGER: GAFFNEY, S. C., APRIL 1, 1897. SETTLE 3i i i up and coat tails a-flyin. By tliistirr.- 5aq-o of Rock:/ Crook .. o.* People and Thin ■. Varlocn Sundr> Ottlfrcut ‘ :;r»!i«i£ FooIm—Plain American —Fort; :uid ihood, and 1 toe mt he w;;;i tren y and prom; iSC* l’ .*■> .Inins and th ic* c;»!: .u.uyof tin* oM. i. r Jim t;> 1;.; n!;e ;i ind to ti.e j ;encT, ■rv bud v < . the r: par- They tell me afo«,|. Well, ac f- ■'X that Tony Lambert is ordin to the Scriptures and the way the world tfoes, Tony ain’t, my boy, and k so fur as 1 know I >/—> ^ J uni not even.seriou.s- S. \ ly threatened with any of his kinuery. - But 1 have, grot u little note book \ wherein 1 some times write the na ines of people at had their umbrellas nip when the iOrd was rainin brains and com- ;nse upon the human family, and Lambert’s name ain’t written Yen can take the measure of a ster on Ids ways and his looks— him like he hair stands,” as the se men «ire wont to say—and then u can lean buck and lo !. proud and Ivise and knowin like and toll mo what anner of a man he will be. And then I will believe not a blur .! tiling you Bay. Clive the !!oy *i Chnnee. Mind you now, I never have set forth ind maintained that Tony Lambert Jhi’t a fool. But it takes ;i whole lot |f various and sundry different ort»of jls to make a world, and I’ll he cter- ply garnicd up if we haven’t Fin the next plaee ! will own up that fony Lambert is a fo ! : ome ext :nt. t\nybody can look at the way he combs This hair and wears his cloth; ; and so > Ithat the jxior hoy has got a rale bud "case of it. lie is the < ::iy< t son of the Widdor Lambert—which they lived on Itheir little farm ovs r there in the hill country. Xow.^even to the \\ uklcr. she he w ai passin out of childhood at. 1 Iiood into ma tielar notice t polite and it and; amongst the.rib At noontime in and got aftc to the crowd, i derinent of evi tlmt boy iTsponded like it u.an at..I pm up it rattlin speech. With bis 1 ■ - i..m:th and freckly face and pule kri: b! • h:::r. it wouldn’t do to biag on. i.is general apiH.*anncnt s,but people forgot lbs looks . wlien they saw the lire it: his eye and heard the music from his throat. Xow,white people, that v. as year . a;.d i years ago. And where is Jim ( ntt< u- ; den to-day? Bless y nr sweet . oul, ; lioncy, that boy worked and fit, auM b.t • and worked till finally at last h ■ brohe i into congress, and he i; right there row i on this blessed and beantifu! ■ priug ! day. (larden truck is plentiful at our house, and where do you reckon we got the 1 seed? B\* gracious, that saiiu 1 law Jim Crittenden he sent em to us tree gr;itis for rcthin. Wlmt he has done ! for us he has likewise also done for hundreds of people in the district. It ain't for me to say how long Jim wi I Marry and remain where he is. Hut this much 1 do know to a dead and buried certainty, the*mortal man that beats Jjni Crittenden in a race for con gress will have to stay out later ami git up sooner, and court more wemen and hiss more hnbies th man in the district. COX E l A Dog .lie W' Y- * ( . V 1 t DEATH Pt-nnH. 1 vrt )fv| U) I r — 11 :ide. AKP ON THE FIGHT. Ilg. ZO i ;.o th. rnc k k. d vent are. Lad In i ce :’,t iv left he Bill Soya Ho Would Liko to Kavo Soon It on tlio Sly. 0 I lion;;* , in • C; : 1 ' ■j..; TV, 20 i ile; I o!' Will:; iv.: y j La., to work in Sus- qtich: mu: i c tv, has ju ! hi r r ceive; i i. Fe 4 nu •1, who is an <. ngiiieer. went up into tl :o lumber wood; s of Sus- quell; i 1* 11 < L COUii ty to run an c: <. inein a : awi ■ ill. Who a ho ai riv< ’ in eamp he iouni 1 th; at the i sawmill had 1»e u in di. - me a bou :t ten .years. Among t Ik n;a- chincry 1 of; in the old mill v ere a boiler .. ,,,1 , •tat icn-vy engine. Tlie.v were in bad y La; .0, 1/ut Fennel got the tv. ready ()!1 11, Leu; i wil: v ait; .ever. for busincs s. The other day Fennel tired up to test the boiler and engine, and then wenti away to another part of the mill. lie was delayed some, and returned to find the boiler was general ing steam with / Us t e ;r \ ; ■ -f -? iCK 1 rcvw.Yfk ' ^ cnfii ■ nil: of -V''> i if - i :;d li to ( Wr M iM Yet well do I remem 1 . i use to fool. 1 that Jim ( : ittemb till you car. fin f ort of fools the’ will he bv and b Forty Aercfwhi Along in tin 1 Chris gins pitched cut and mas Blev iaid his id man in the settlement. He tv on Deer creek and rented -M ni> uni from Mi Tintc ling which Tony docs is extry bright id .smart, and for a vencral ilb-.g icn one of these ge id oid womanly Bothers can see any : ..ft ts or weak lilts akout her own t.nd o;;lye.-t s; . can bet your free silver that the pv is a fool. But at the same time Tony I .am hart 't a fool for the want of brains, lie '■.hole thing single-handed by f ell'. But it now comes to { Kiev backed down and out before major could fix up the j a per.-. “Tuiu’t no use in talkin about it, I’ufe,” says Blev in givin out the facts to me, ‘‘it is too infernal lonesome way over there cn Deer creek forme. Before I would close up the trade and f^gn the a fool for the lack of common, every- J papers I went over there one day to try | the business and see if 1 could stand it. I All day long I cut sprouts and knocked , corn stalks and burnt brush on that 1 10 acres of swamp land. And hornest ! to Hod. Kufe, from sunup to sundown j I didn’t see a livin r.oul or hear a human i voice only when I would cuss a little ! around the edges or talk to my fool self. | Italey I do think it is the dadblaindest, gonebyest most lonesomest place on the top side of earth, “So consequentially when I returned back homo that night I had come to stay. By gatlins, I wouldn’t work that 40 ceres of swamp land way over there on Deer creek free of rent and four bits am acre to boot. Now, if 1 laid some boys bi.g enough to go over there with me, and fumble around and keep me company, maybe I uiought •r livin <\ 1::.. 1 e •• ve fast ver j f : d r r: . v. ’tb the c people , of : V two 1 ; _> • ■' y was a (!;:’.iv t > * ;' * ( , ‘ y and lYr' to keep and'foi::. 1 t ' • !. ;• IC give cabt in boys conge::’:.! ; 1 ;;-e in v. hirh t ) rid a what Fpou cute t he ( ::giu<. n vdiateiv i: Putt It •• *U!a ring the . b hejun by. * ; front < h.o..l : r :takes a of that : :t F: who Scrog- 1 waV’ns a In c,:: i 1, .- lar.s to i ho can : .. li* c*::t11 .• (,r <;t !.er : r.y one 1 or unwary ! !: * . ' t nt over ; the "( . • • • j .ri; h;nd e. eres of a-, if i > war; i them ( fthe barr i. and resent the tre~pass i j.., 1 i.i- ■nd the I Ie nets i i he : ur.c ; ••• :• \ is lone cd strew; cr i; L • .iW\ i:;- ! ■ - that oh truetinn ni.ou ' Xu* tiafh. A ■ *• ■. /v* , acyv>>',._ Ir- 7 — _ ' c: —~ gy. ac iu;- COILKD ABOUT 11 IS LUO. startling rapidity, lie rushed into the boiler house, the door closing after him | with a bang. The door fastened on the j outside with a hasp and drop hook, and the jar eaused the hook to drop ; into the Maple, making Fennel a ! prisoner. Although tested to only 100 1 pounds, the steam gauge showed that the boiler had already generated 110 I pound , and the quivering bund of the team gauge was mounting higher and higher. That tlte boiler was liable to j <■'., lode at. auv moment I'uiin' l w; 11 And 'i’lieee Are Others—It's Ilnma'* .\aturc—Uoxlntf Not WroiiR If Decent People .‘.re PrinelpnlM. It is original sin or total depravity or natural born instinct that makes man and beast take such an interest in a light? Balls ayd dogs and chicken cocks didn’t fall when Adam fell, but they light. St. John says there was war in Heaven; so itseenns that this lighting business has been going on a long time, vain killed Abel about 0,000 years ago and man and beast have been lighting ever since. The men who don't light luve to look cm or to read about it, and even woman, loving and kind-hearted as she is, always takes sides and urges on her heroes to victory or death. If woman had not been behind us the late war would have ended hi a year. The preachers preach peace and love and hold up tin* Saviour's teachings before us: “Love your enemies, and if a man smites thee on one cheek, turn the other to him also.” But who would do that? 1 have known a preacher to fight and i boast of his victory. I recall another who took off his coat in church and dared a brother layman to go outside with him and repeat the offensive lan guage. They were good men, but just human. So I reekou this figbting’in- stinet is part of our human nature, and if there was war in Heaven, then the i instinct did not come from Adam’s fall, but we would have had it anyhow. “I’eace on earth and good wilt to man” i is yet afar off in the corridors of time. A few martyrs like Stephen have lived and died saying: “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge,” but the grout majority of Christians and fill the sinners either hate their enemies or fail to love them. The instinct of our human nature is resentment, and it is so rear akin to self-preservation that it seems justifi able. A man h is us much right to re sent a personal injury as a nation has t i fight another nation. There is no (iilTerwioe in the Christian moralitv, for txvn fascinated with Lew V.'aL •?' Dur. and the charm of * ■ • 1 < . : chariot race, which was. : h» - a struggle between the i. . .. ■. j pions. The truth is that n* ’.irk either ancient or moder: —. •• 1 to write a romance a it!- fight in it somewhere. IT Mu' in Jiis J’aradise Lost dow, t • ■ d ,•'• Horseshoe Bobinson, f'g.. _ *l.c 5 . v* and the charm of th - s-.e^v, t. it is a compliment to our i. rat | that v.i* always side with •' | and honor the hero and ■ 1 oine. i M<Ve men like to sc - -i r ! are willing to admit it. li "a 1 preneher shut his eyes v . • • hitched or try to part tv •- i his back yard. All men ar r s la. » j e«t as Henry Grady, who t . 1 friend that if he h:*d the i!:. i » | it. was -i respectable th'p-r * • , | would give $1,(X)0 to see th ■ i.:. l !•• ; two n Sullivan and Kilrai: . D i- - ' that he would have siij.ne i <>.; : g > , anyhow, had lie not been a;: •' ... -i for Boston to make bi- - ’ i speech. He loved all mar iy : k>t | alihorred cruelty and d’--. n. I nr ver shall forget the g:. i fill sce :e that I witness ,! : ■ . p i of the* Brice house, duri: g ’ * • ; before liiehmom]. Our | stationed on the south. ' Chi'-kahoudny with ore ■ ..v. :I j orders, and while waitin . j Andersen and some of his • . i • *d | up to the little balcony . : . > ■ | desperate fight that was r ■ o: se j other side of the river. • . •mr i regiments with bamie. - :ur. .al- j vanee and lire, and advar.c . ;,d lire . again, and elimb the slop s . ".hi!* i t heir rank's were thinned ‘ .. ‘and i shell, and hundreds of ni<- ; . u- 1 | or wounded, and were trampled over I bv other regiments as c :i M. .rg' d to take the battery on t p of th • hi!' Onee a regiment waver d and was fall- ;ng hade, for tbecolor'l ap r '•.;;< shot down and t!>e colonel uni other soldier seized ihe e h r" and ran in front waving them. : •’ Lr. inn the deed, orove 1 'I! 1 aimse valuable Y4- ' - y' r'>'Y ; ,',/Y k . ! '•>' sense. The goo<l Lord has done (gracious plenty for that boy, and imi all I can see and bear and pick up I the ea- *, he has got the materials ia un for the makin of a man by-and-by. |he world and old lady Experience will |ave to finish up the job. They uiought |ake a man, and they mought make a Imess of it. In the main time I am willin -more tl^an willin—to wait and watch ind seeM^When Tony Lambert comes to be a grown-up man, settled and sot in all his ways—if he is still a food I ^vill give up the fight and take it all jaefe and feel sorry that I didn’t say >re. But right along now—in this pleasant springtime—I am bound to stand up for the boy. He is young as pet, and he will grow—for bettor or for Ivorse. Give him time. He is likewise llso fresh—most unanimously fresh. Jut the kicks and cuffs of the naughty Ivorld and the salt of time may save bim yet. Give the boy a chance. , v - „ ••A Cr.\”ln and a Cunning’ Well do I recollect the time when Dople talked about Jim Crittenden ie same as they uo now in regards Tony Lambert. Everybody—except- old Miscs Crittenden—used to say lifct Jim was a fool. But finally at last the run of time Jim he recovered |jd got well. The first time I ever saw that boy Jim (Ktenden was over at the Turner ford [panther creek. The Crittendens had [iu fresh moved into the settlement, Jim was a one-gallusted jiiney- Foods boy, with yellow legs and a reckly face and pale brindle hair. In icm days if the Jiigh sheriff had took it papers of compellment and searched stand it. But as you know, Bute, by the grace and mercy of a w ise and lov- in Providence, all of ray boys ore girls, and that 40 acres of sw amp land is too infernal many for jioor lonesome me.” V ENJOYING HIS RIDE. The “One Done Xlir«erg‘ My friend and fellow servant, with that 40 acres of swamp land, puts me in mind of old Dr. Brownlow and Ills one lone nigger. That wa* way back in slavery times. | and old Dr. Brownlow had one nig- | ger—and only one—a long, tall black rascal by the name of Lsam. And Isam he got into a mighty way of runnin away from home and stay in out till lie w as run down and brung back. At last one summer day the old doctor called up his solitary slave. “Listen at me, Isam,” says he. “The next time you git lonesome and take _ _ | up a fool notion to run away, I want e country ^ar and wide to find a hard- you to come and tell me about it. Don’t . lope off so blame suddent and surprisin lookin ease than Jim Crittenden, I klcy do not see how he ever could of |in the ease. LApyhow, it would seem like the old |ks had started Jim off to town that min with his ox cart and a load of wood to sell. It was a warm day ^he spring of the year, and when I up to the Panther Greek bridge onhappy boy was hunkered down pre on the banks of that historic earn eussin and a cryin to beat six It looks like the oxen had Je a break and run off of the bridge to the creek, turned the wagon over |d smashed one wheel into kindlin whilst the load of pine floated vn stream. it are you doin here, Bud?” say* 1st a eussin and a cryin,” says Jim. Jthis time I had took in the whole iference at the sad surround ins. 11, what are you goin to do about r i. It it?" says he. “What in the ?s can I do about it except to Ion a eussin and o cryin?" |ly of course I couldn’t mend and pick up the pieces. My ifor that long-sufferin boy— inderstand I had been over >und.my own rusty self— could I do, and what did I Tothin, only give him two bits Jy pocket knife, and then rid on peft him hunkered down, there on jutldy banks of Panther creek—“a In and a cryin." * * * at one by one the days and weeks (years went by, and then oncst-tnore Jet up w ith Jinn Crittenden right on the trunks of Panther creek. '(>eop!e around in the settlement pet up n bipMshin frolic and picnic (fn there at the bridge, and that i Jim he was there, with every foot like. Let me know when you feel the spell comm on, and maybe I won’t whip you so hard when I fetch you back." Two or three weeks rolled by, ami late one even Isam he come up to the front gate, took a seat on the horse block and waited there till the old doc tor rid up. “Marse Doc,” says he, “I jest come to tell you I’m gw ine to run away to night." “The native h-11 you are,” says the old doctor. “What’s the matter with you anyhow, you triflin black scoun drel?” “Oh, well, Marse Doc,” says Isam. ‘‘dura this here one lone nigger!" Xewa from the Settlement. Three weeks ago to-day Mises Strib- 1 him—Aunt Tnbithy, as most everybody | called her—passed over the river, no doubts at the same ferry where Abrar ham and Isaac and Jacob and David crossed. She was the beloved wife of old roan Judge Stribblin, from down in the Flat woods. They tell me that old man judge is now payin. his double- breasted regards to the Widder Sin gleton. Seems to me like they are run- i nin the human race mighty fast in j these latter days. « • • Old man Mart Mayo has now quit drinkin whisky. At any rates, that is what I hear people say. And I reckon it must be so. I met up with ene of old Mart’s boys—which they call his name Luther—down at the mill the other day. I told him how- I was monstrous glad to hear that his pa bod quit drinkin sperits. and ask him if it was so. “Yessir. I reckon it must be so," says the boy. prompt and innocent like. "I seed him quit drinkin three or fonr times this mornln." RUFUS SANDERS. to the engineer iu guarding against ac cident. He is verjealous of his posi tion on. the engineer’s, box. The engi- necr himself is the only person he will allow the privilege of sittingnt his side. In fact, the engineer must take a back seat, as the dog insists upon being up in Iront,almost against t he boiler, w here he cant look out of both the window ahead and the one at the side. If the fireman gets too near the engineer’s teat when the latter is occupying it, Coxcy resents the intrusion by growl- 1 ing and showing his teeth. Occasionally he tires of riding it the i cab and finds a place to rest in t he hag- gage ear. He will also sometimes loi- low Conductor C. II. Wilson and Brake- man W. F. Crosswell through the train. He experiences no difficulty in crossing from one ear to another without acci dent, having "got his sea logs” early in i his travels. Sometimes, if he wearies ! of a trip, he will get off of the train on which he starts and return to Cincin nati by the other one, making the \ change when they meet about midway Ixrtween the termini. There is not a ! trainman on the road who docs not de votedly love Coxey, and he lives very high on the contributions heartily be stowed from the luncheons of his friends cn transit. Coxey has a habit ! of getting off at way stations and then jumping on when the train is in motion. J Occasionally he is unable to make the jump in this manner, if the train | gets too great a start, and be makes :*r- | rangements accordingly. Knowing perfectly well the route of the railroad lie will take up a journey of several miles across the country fields and hills., ! cutting off a big' corner, and sometimes catching up with the train. If he is un able to overtake it he awaits at some way station for its return, and then gets on board. The dog always eats and sleeps at night in one of the cars or the engine cab, and is never satisfied unless be is permitted to travel. There is serious doubt to whom Coxey belongs. He is claimed by nearly every trainman on the line. None of the citizens of Georgetown, from which place he in axle his initial bow to rail road Hfe,laysany ownershipto him, and tho trainmen have come to regard him as a joint possession of great value. TIas Knurs la Her Ears. Severed .months ago an “electric light bug” took refuge in the ear of Mr«. Wil liam Swan, who resides a few milee west of Elkhart. Ind. It caused her great, pain and her physician was only able to remove a portion of it. Her suf ferings have greatly Increased and a recent counsel of physicians have dis covered. it is ( aid. that the intruder had deporited a great number of eggs and that her head contain* a number of rapidly developing erd increasing In sects. Her death is momentarily ex pected. He was about to climb up lo Ics oii th.* refravlory safety gauge when Ills (•yes beheld a .-ight fr«.i:, which he drew buck. Around the safety valve, just where lie was about to grasp it wit h his hand, was coiled a Lig rattlesnake, while two other reptiles of the same species lay on the floor of the boiler muise. The quivering hand of the shoanj gauge told Fennel only fuo plainly that the pressure on the boiler was becom ing terrific. But he could not pass the (crpents and reach the boiler, neither could he c"-1 out of the door. The only means of exit was a small window, and to reach this he would have to pass the snakes. Ne ar by .-food an Iron bar used in clearing out the fire, and grasping this he crushed the head of the serpent j i nearest him. The other snake coiled about his leg and struck viciously, fastening its fangs into his rubber boot, i A blow with the bar crushed the snake on the safety gauge, and then came a struggle to remove the one stround Ids leg. Dressing down the bar the snake coiled around it for a second, leaving two folds around his leg. Quick as :!, flafdi he snapped the snake in two. and then, with the iron bar, knocked off t he safety valve. uo of indivkhiah a nation is madi lo.' ■>() may licht hi country, then one ma of Ids home or h!s j his good name. But a: voicing to the Saviour’s teachings, j pain, and courage, a 1 < and if only those be saved who live up ' worse than any two n to thus “ teachings, then we are all lost. ; Wh it is the dilTerenoe i: defense of their y tight in defense operty, or even both aw wrong, j boys rallied and never i until the colors were pk I crest of tin* J:ill and the captured. We saw it ;:U picture, for it was h -s F ; to the battleground. I' j eye view, and sueli a.- v.; nessed even with v. fie! : hands of a great eoir.ir. j Well, that was as ■ . TRICK DIDN’T WORK. Hut Only necnuMo Thin < larluettut Wan nilmt ns u Rat. It is given out as a fact by some peo ple that any clarinet player may be disconcerted so badly that he cannot play by the simple method of having some one stand in his sight ami oat half a lemon. This is a favorite trick of variety actors, say the people who vouch for the method. One of the craft will stand in the wings with half a lemon in his hand and wait till he catches Hie eve of the clarinet player // r i l/g - / r m LU 'VI A biiffli THE MUSICIAN NEVER BUDGED. Then with a great flourish he will be gin on the lemon, and the musician's lips will begin to shrivel up in sympa thy as he imagines the sourness of the juices which are flowing from the lemon, and in a moment he will be play ing what are known os “bum notes." Two bright young men. who dabble in theatricals dropped into a saloon one night recently where an orchestra, ia kept on tap and at once spied the clar inetist and picked him out for a murk. “Get half a lemon," said one of them, "and I will have that fellow in the air iu five minutes.” He got the lemon and sat down at a table directly in front of the orchestra and where the clarinetist’s eye* were turned directly on him. Hut though he sucked valiantly at the sour fruit end made noble grimaces the musician never budged. "What’s the matter with that fellow? He don’t bat his eye*," unid the actor to Ida friend. They then sought out their friend, the proprietor, and told him of their scheme and it« failure. "Oh, that's all right," was the an swer. "That fellow is blind." But when one of the disciples got j alarmed and said: “Who then can be | save;!?" his reply was: “With men it | . is not possible, but with God all things | ; are possible.” And on tin* other occa- 1 j sion. when a disciple trembled under j his teachings and inquired: “Lord, are there few that be saved?” be avoided a i direct answer and said: “Strive to en ter in at the straight, gate, for many shall seek to enter, but shall not lie able.’’ So our comfort is that if we strive to do right we will get to Heaven. Strive is the word, and it means to struggle, to exert oneself diligently. Let us all do that if we can, and I reckon we can, or we would not have been told to. I was ruminating about tlie fight, and my mind ran along into this channel of thought. Why did 1 fed an interest in it? Why did I liave a lingering de sire that Fitz should lick Corbett? Well, I took a disgust at Corbett when I read that he had forsaken his wife and taken another without just cause or provocation. I remembered how the papers said she stood by him and en couraged him at Jacksonville and other places and behaved herself in a woman ly way, and so I wanted him punished. But 1 was told today that Fitzsimmons had done the same thing, and so now I don’t care which whipped. Now let some other fellow turn up and whip Fitz and I w ill lie. satisfied. Corbttt’a first wife has been avenged and bis second came to grief. I don’t take much stock in denouncing prize fighting as the worst thing in the world. The worst thing about it is the company it, keeps, the betting and gambling and drinking that environs it. If two men want to make a trial of strength by pummeling each other, there is no more harm in it than in a football game, and the surroundings are not much worse. These pugilists never kill one another, r.ml the fight itself is not half as bad as these street duels and hip pocket pistols that are reported every day in the newspapers. I have seen a jiolice- roan draw more blood when trying to arrest a disturlier of the peace. It is not so bad as a bull fight in Mexico, and yet every American who goes there attends one, if not two or more. I think I should have liked to have seen the fight if I could have done so on the sly, and I know many good men and some women who would liave gone one eye on it if they had had a chance and the crowd had been a docent one. Everybody has an instinctive desire to see a fight—even a dog fight. I remem ber what satisfaction we schoolboys used to have in catching the big black unts in an old dead tree and making them fight in mortal combat. And what fun it was to catch a big he coon by night and see him fight the dogs, and how we used to get two old rains to gether, and once we saw two bulls lock horns, and it was fearful and thrilling. Fighting roosters were common in our day. Some of the big boys at the institute where I went to school used to buy roosters in the neighborhood and keep them hid until Saturday evening, and then go away off in the woods and hare a fight or maybe several fights. But if we can’t see the fight we all love to read about them. The charm of mythology in the heroesandheroines we rend about—Hector and Achilles have not yet lost their renown. It was Bob Boy’s heroism and Ivanhoe’s that mode those novels of Walter Soott the favorite. Just so with the Scottish Chiefs and Thaddena of War saw, and Charley O’Molloy. And even in our day bofth Christian* and sinner*, Jew and Gentile, have What is the moral <!if ing on?—Bill Arp, in A tution. • ; io< ! ill:-! "■uni times e-nild make. ; In* 1: 'met? ■ •uee in look— lan’a Consti- POLTRY WHICH IS FCZTEY. A Kind T!:nt .In*tili<*:4 r. 'Inn in li»K His Trust in U. Bo you know what a::; 1- 1:11th is? No? Then let it be said that :::i ad—mith is a word of recent construe: Ion and adop tion and it mean.** a i::;.u who writes advertisements (ads) as tSew should be written and not in the <>11 style of say ing much and meaning nothing. This story has to deal v. ith i ris::..,' joung ad-smith of this town of Wash ington, who, like other man ‘r pi. .1 souls and fervid tongue . had j.- rn tt<*:l Lis tongue to get his soul tangi: d all up iu the golden meshes of a ;>ret'. girl’s smiles and that was the end f him. In pursuance of'the usual custom made and provided for in such emer gencies he went to .see the girl’s father, who knows the value of advertising ami also tho value of the right kind of a son- in-law. “Yes, yes,” the father -::i<!. in re sponse to the young mar v opening ad dress, “I knew all about t bat fol «> rM part. What I want to 1 now about • business and can you support my daughter 0 Whatdo you do?’’ “I write poetry, sir." r< ; p< i:<ie<! the emotional applicant with • iniidenee. The father fairly gasp I. “Write poetry?” he in ; r!y shrieked. "Write jioetry? What in thunder can you do at that to rapport a family, l‘d like to know?" The young man straightened up so suddenly that the old : :a:i jumped out of the way. “Sir.” said the applicant, with the dignity of four kings, “I don’t write the kind of poetry you are thinking about. I write jioetry advertisements for soap nnd patent medicine and beer and bi cycles and the kind that pays. See?” “Oh. oh." spluttered the father, “really I beg your pardon, my dear fel low. I didn’t, understand at. ail. I assure von. Take her. my boy. take her and joy go with you." The wedding will occur in the autumn.—Washington Star. A Sign WIiloli Failed. Young Husband—Seems to me. my dear, this chicken is pretty tough. Young Wife—I know It js. and T can’t understand it at nil. I picked it out try self. “Did you examine it closely?" “Indeed I did. I looked in its mouth the first thing and I could see it hadn’t even cut it* first teeth yet."—N. Y. Weekly. Ilronaon** Feeble Mind. “Ah," she sighed, “there are the Bronsons. They’ve been married for 20 years, and he’s apparently just as fond of his wife as ever.” “Oh, yes,” he snarled, "Bronson’s gen erally regarded os a sort of jniJdin* head.”—Cleveland Leader. A Question of Color. First Woman in Public Life—l don’t like red tape. Second Woman in Public Lift—Oh, I don’t minds Anything but the? rrisl greens, that make a person look h.uous. —Detroit Journal. His ReoAr Esense. “How dure you, air!" ahe exclaimed, (•fter the deed waa done. “You must not mind me," he replied. j M I «m a chronic oeoulatory kleptoma- Iniac."—Life.