Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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/ .. . T 5-/ THE LEDGER: GAFFXEV. S. C.. JUNE 17. 1897. ON ROCKY CREEK. I i^kotchos from Life Among "Groat Unwashed. ” tho Two Sna]> Morion niicl Two American Uo}'!t—John Andrew tlilliann und the Ablo-IloditMl Trnn:;ia —Other Xewa. if' ^ ;f\ <* X Two sonp stories—both of them tan gled up with the records of two Ameri can boys—have come to puss on the soil of this great country. The which no doubts you have heard one of them, like I have, from the g|§e cradle up to the present period of recorded time. Through many and many a weary year I have heard people tell about the boy which was sent to town after some soap, and for fears he couldn’t recollect what he went after, he said “soap, soap, soap,” with every step he took. ]>ut now presumably as he was going up a steep hill—which the same was mon strous wet and muddy—he slipped up and fell down and forgot what his moth er had started him to town for. He hunkered down by the road and tried his level blamdest to remember what lie was going after, and then lie put in and wept a few stanzas. Hut he couldn’t make the mill grind with the water which had passed. About that time a traveler rid by, and as become up the hill his horse w as slipping and slidin fore and aft. “Good mornin, Bud," says the trav eler. “Mornin,” says the boy. “This blamed old hill Is as slick as soap, ain’t it?” says the traveler. “Soap! soap! soap!” says the boy as lie headed fresh for town and went off ifi a trot to fetch the necessaries. One \e\\ Son;i Story. Onest upon a time 1 was travelin on a railroad train through the broad and bloorain state of Mississippi. That was way back there in my gay and gorgeous gallin days, and like the average Ameri can youngster will do, I hail let a blame fool notion take up w ith me to the gen eral extent that I was good lookin— a right tolerable handsome and mag- nolious cuss, you understand. Of course I can now see w herein I w as foolin my rusty self in those regards. In short, friends and fellow citizens, “I onest was lost but now I’m found. Was blind but now I see.” Now there was a man in the cars sell- in’ fancy cake soap. Every onest in awhile he would come through preach ing forth the extra fine qualities of that soap, and sellin a cake to every man which had two bits to spare. It was the gonebyest most marvclsomc soap in the whole united world, and the hu man race had never saw anything like it, to let him sing the song. It was not only sweet-scented, but it was far- reaebin and go fetchin. If you wanted lo shave your whiskers off one good i lather w ould last for six weeks to come. And a tired man could put a cake of that soap under his pillow when he went to bed at night and wake up the next mornin with a clean shave fresh shampoo. And so on and so forth. Now, in my day and generation I have seen a whole passle of people, first and last. But white people, I did think in my soul that soap man was way yonder the most ugliest livin mortal man I had ever laid eyes upon. In the main lime I had listened to his song service and his sirmont on soap till I was plum weak and weary anyhow, and then, with the vain hopes of ebangin the tune, 1 put my mouth in. “IVill that famous fine soap make ugly people prittj-?” says I. “To be certainty of course it will,” says the soap man. “Well, why in thunder don’t you use a small smidgen of it on your own manly countenance?” says I. The crow d laughed a little around the edges. "Why don’t I?” says the soap seller. “Young man, I have been usin that soap three times a day, 305 days in the year, for about three years, and whilst no body would ever think it, durned if I want as ugly as you are at the start. Try a cake. Only 35 cents, live nickels, or n quarter of a dollar." Then the committee retired and the crowd screamed a general horse laugh. Jotm Andrew unit the Trniapa. For some years past John Andrew Milligan has been livin over there dost to Gravel Cut. only a little ways from the railroad station. So after supper oue night last week John Andrew come over to our house and was tdlin me about the ups and dow ns and trials and tribulation which he has had with tramps. “If you love your country, Rufe, don’t never git caught foolin’ along with tramps, says John Andrew, whilst there was somethin in his oppearments which brung to my mind what the Scripture says in regard to the scorched youth and the fireworks. "There are jest two things in this green and wicked old world which a tramp will stay with and stick to. One is the main line of a railroad, and the other is his secret Bible oath never to bruise the fair bosom of the earth with narry darn lick of honest work. Along about this time last year I thought that maybe 1 had found one lone ex ception to that general rule. It did look to me like every day the good Lord sent, with its sunshine and its blessins, the devil would send along a few tromps to try my patience ami pester the life outen me. All they wanted was somethin to eat, and we had fed cm and fed cm till by gracious the children would git bongry between meals and weep for cold victuals. “So bright and early one mornin lest spring, when a tramp turned up in the back yard, with dew’drops in bis whisk ers and tangles in his hair, und wanted u little handful of somethin or other to smooth the wrinkles out of his bread basket, or words to that extent, I felt like 1 could say most anything except- in my Sunday school lesson. If 1 had any w ork to do he would be glad to turn off some odd jobs for me. To hear him tellin it, he was one of them willin workers out of a job with nothin to do and so scandalous hungry till he didn’t know where he would sleep that night. “From the way he talked and the way he looked I thought the pore, on- happy devil must he in cold, dead ear nest. In the fullness of my weak and j tender heart I told him I would give him somethin to eat and somethin to | do, providin he would take the whole ' contract. The next thing I knowed I : was traded with on the spot, lie went ! on around to the kitchen and worried down the grule. Then lie spat upon his hands and made out like he was jest naturally itchin and aehin to put in a few licks of good honest work. “Now I raly didn’t have anything in particular for him to do, Rufe. I was jam ii]) with my crop and had then been fumblin and foolin around for several days smoothin dow n the edges and knoekin off the high places. But 1 put on my tbinkin cap and rummaged around for some honest work to give ; that tramp. I had three acres planted in corn over on a red hillside, and it J had come up mighty bail missin. It ; was my plans and intentions to replant ! that cut w ith goobers, and at odd times | —of nights and at noon—me and the children had done already shelled out j the goobers to do the work with. I l w ent and got half a peek of them nice shelled goobers and give them to the | tramp. Then I went over in the field with him, showed him w hat to do and how* to do it, and left him there with the job in his hands. At dinner time he come in tired and hungry like a man j which had been hard at work. He ! climbed up around three plates of spring greens, with meat and bread ac- i eordin, for dinner. Late along in the : shank of the evenin he turned up onest j more at the house and lowed that lie j was done the job. Nothin would do ] but I must go over there in the field with him and see that he had done as i commanded. I could see where he had peeked through the corn with a hoe ; and left the proper signs in every missin | place. So in pursuance of the contract | which we had made 1 paid him 35 cents , in good sound free silver and he went ! on his way rejoicin. “Well, in the due fullness of time I went over in the field one day to see how* my goober crop was eomin on, and dodblame it, they never had come at all. And thej* never did come, Rufe, any to speak of. All and in all I think I found seven goober vines in the whole three- acre field. The dura tramp never did plant em, Rufe—that is to say, he never did plant em in the native soil of that j corn field. Doddurn him, he planted em in his bread basket or toted em off in his pockets, one or the other, and maybe partly both. Anyhow, he only went through the motion in regards to the work, whilst he cooked me done as a eraeklin for two square meals, half a peck of nice shelled goofoers and 35 cents to boot, in passin. ........ .*i- He fins vTouiicA F.m Xow. “But let me tell you, Rufe, I'll be ever lastingly gummed up if I haven’t put the final fixments on em this year. The tramps haven’t lost anything around our house here lately, and there ain’t a blame thing on my place now which a tramp needs in his business. They do co: e pillagin and pirootin around onest in awhile, hut dadblame em, they don’t tarry and remain over with us this summer any to speak of. “How did I manage, and what have 1 done? Along in the fall of last year j I didn’t do a blame thing but take all ; the field hands out and split 14 cords of i oak and hickory wood. Then I had the i woodallstackedupin one long, high pile | out there 1)3* the w ell in the back yard, j I didn’t put the wood there to cut it up and make fires with it indurin of the ! winter time, you understand. I put it | there for the tramps. We had the bla/in j good fires all right, but I give out gen- I oral orders that nefoody mustn’t cut ; narry blessed stick of wood outen that ^ big pile. It didn’t belong to me any | more. It was stacked up there for ! the tramps. “And, now, Rufe, you would laugh i and laugh till you could just naturally fall down and wallow in it if you could see the tremendius movin influence which that big pile of hard, seasoned oak ami hickory wood can bring to bear uj>on a pair of able-bodied tramps. When they come up to the front gate and want a bite of something to eat. all I have got to do is to tell ’em all right and send 'em around to the kitchen. The minnit they pass around the corner of the house and catch sight of that 14-cord pile of wood, with two good axes layin around convenient, durned if they don’t fall over one another eleanin up and gettin away from there. It is worse than a dost of high life or sperits of turpentine. “Some two or three weeks ago a pair of the l>oys passed along the railroad, and oii2 left the main line and come by our house to draw their rations. As usual, I sent him on around to the kitchen, but he never got that far. Blamed if it didn't look like he would taint at the very sight of our wood pile. Then it would seem like he took curva ture uf the spine, and the latest flying machine is nothin. Rufe, to the move ment which he took unto himself as soon as he recovered sufficiently to re sume business. In his big hurry to ab sent ulatc he didn’t take time to open the fr'ont gate, and he snaggled a duplex concurve in the scat of his breeches us he went over the picket fence and made a dark streak down the big road. "Tell the new s, Rufe—tell it to every body—and let long-sufferin hmnsnity understand heneeforwards that for wcauin tromps there is nothin like a few cords of wood stacked tip close to the kitchen. It is a dead shot—kill or cure.” . . RVFVS 8AXDERS. BILL ARP AND BIKES. Sago of Eartow Soliloquizos on tho Cyclos and Cyclists. Takeji a Trip to Cnroltnn—I'inds Tlmt .Maiil* nail Matron* There Take Daily liitlc* on Their Steel Steed*. The bicycle lias come to stay—at least until there is something better. Prejudice is passing away. 1 confess that 1 had it, but I am cautious nowa days and make no fuss about it. Some- j how I don’t favor things that I can’t l do myself. I don’t like to be left be hind. One of our school board refused to vote for our superintendent. “I believe he is the best man of all,” he said, "but he rides a bicycle.” 1 was in I South Carolina last week and found | them everywhere. There were 87 regis tered in the town of Blnekville and i nearly half of them were used by girls and matrons. It is a beautiful town, as level as a floor, and the streets look like they have been fore planed and | sandpapered. The light, sandy surface is not much in the way of the wheels and the pretty girls wheel to school I and to the post office and the stores and go visiting and take tli^ir evening ex cursions. They ride with grace and modest}* and nobody objects or issur- | prised. There is a first-class repair shop there, where every broken or j damaged part is mended and even plat- i ing in silver and brass is done. From ! this skilled mechanic I learned that it cost a man about five dollars a year to j keep his wheel in order and cost a w orn- ; an about $1.50. “Y'ou see,” said he, “the young men take more risks and ifide over the cross- ties on the railroad track, but the girls are more prudent and careful. Oh, no, it does not cost one-tenth as much to keep a wheel in order as it does to feed a horse. With careful usage a good wheel ought to last ten years, but the improvements come so quick and fast that the old style soon becomes a sec ond-hand and is sold for half price and a new one bought. Like the sewing machines, the price will soon come down as the patents run out und then a good wheel can be bought for $30 or $40.” My next stop was at Bamberg, a live town on the South Carolina road, and the first thing that greeteil me was a bicycle dress parade and then a tour nament. Riders and wheels were all decorated. Some of the men were in fantastic array; the wheels were adorned with gay colors of ribbon and fancy paper. The company was 40 strong and had its officers, who gave command “Right wheel, forward roll, evolute, speed well, round the bend, wheels ahoy, slow* up, dismount, salute your queen,” etc. There were some young ladies in the procession und some men in female garb, but it took no Solo mon to divine their sex. Bamberg is an old town made over, renewed and invig orated by the wheels and spindles and looms that hum day and night in a large cotton mill rear by. This mil’, lias brought go6<5 selioois an? urlesiuu wells and new hotels and churches and many beautiful new residences. A cot ton mill does as much or more for a town as a pension a gene}*. The latter pours free money into a community, and free money goes as easy as it comes, but a mill distributes money that is earned. I saw more mills at Orange burg and that city is on a boom. More mills are being built—built from the dividends of the first mills. The town is stretching out and putting on city airs. I wish it would stretch to that Coast Line depot, for it is an awful long mile for a man of my age to walk and carry a valise. I was told that a hack would come for me at half-past five o’clock, but as it did not come 1 walked for fear of being left. It was a little after daybreak by that eastern time and I hardly got rested in the depot before the street ear came rolling down without a passenger. What an idiot 1 was, but nobody told me how* to do and I wouldn’t have been left for ten dol lars. But just think of it. I left at six o’clock and reached Atlanta at 13 o'clock—3<>1 miles in six hours, 43 miles an hour, including stoppages. This was the fastest traveling I ever did in my life. I visited another town that is just taking on its second growth. St. George is a lovely little village that has recently been made a county seat and the people are proud, very proud. They are preparing to build a court house and expect that factories and street ears and waterworks and gas lights will soon follow. • "But right now,” said my friend, “we have a town full of the prettiest girls in the state.” Yes. His wife is in Europe and every girl looks sweet to him. I learned that the town was named for a clever old settler by the name of George, but how he came to be canonized like a saint I did not learn. I met a Howell there—a cousin of Evan. He is editor, postmaster and general fac totum and a rebel to the core. Our own I). B. Freeman, of Curtersville, another editor, has proved his claim to the youngest soldier of the confederacy, but Howell pushes him very close, for he ran away w hen he w as 15 years old and fought at Vicksburg and Chieka- muuga and then got into a hospital at Rome and Dr. Miller took pity on the beardless sick boy and cared for him two months ut his own home and then sent him home to his mother. But BarnwHI, old time-honored Barn well, quiet, peaceful Barnwell, gave me the most royal welcome. Those good people are not in a hurry about any thing except once a year, uml that is on the race, track. They trot around that and talk politic* and discuss Till- manism and the ilis|>eusury on the way. What fine old gentlemen I met A riper scholar than Col. Simons, a son of William Gilmer Simons, cun hardly be found. A handsome man and a pleasant and earnest talker. Then thei b wa* ex-Gov. Unvgood—Gen. Thiygocd, the hero of Petersburg. His solid, inas- l . ... .... j sive, fjenevolent face made an impres sion on me that will endure as long as I endure. But who would have thought of finding there a brother of Mrs. Lincoln—Dr. Todd, a leading phy sician and surgeon, a friend to the south; a lifelong democrat. He has domiciled there ever since the war and commands the respect of that people. | I knew* his younger brother, who was an unterrified rebel and was an aid-de- camp on Joe Johnston’s staff. Is it not singular that all Mrs. Lincoln’s kindred were loyal to*the south during the struggle? I remember that one ot her nieces presented a flag to the Selma guards when they started to Virginia. I wonder if Mrs. Lincoln’s kindred w ere all traitors and guilt}* of treason. But }. am home again and happy— | not that I was unhappy while away, but a feeling of rest and repose comes | over me here that I cannot find aforoad. , I would never leave home if there was not a pressure of necessity and I count tlie days and the hours w hen 1 shall re turn. There has been another birthday in the family, and 1 was hound to be here. My w ife, Mrs. Arp, shall not close her sixty-fifth year without my presence. It is all over now—the morning kiss and a ten-dollar bill slipped under the breakfast plate was the host I could do, and I don’t know yet which was most appreciated. She w ill spend that money on some of the children or grandchil dren. Strange to tell, but it is true, one of our neighbors has the same birthday and is the same age and in vited my wife to dine. Of course she accepted, and found there a goodly com pany of matrons. There were nine of them, and they were over 000 years old. No, I don’t mean that; 1 mean that the sum of their several ages was GOO. Some of their ages had to he guessed at, for they were widows. The}* talked prin cipally about ante-bellum days and the times “when niggers was" and about the falling of the stars and when matches and steel pens and cooking stoves and kerosene oil first came and about the old high-swung carriages their fathers owned, and how the steps folded up in the door and were letdown like a staircase, and a little nig stood up behind and a big nig set up before on a dickey and v*is proud of belong ing to "quality folks.” Then oue of the most ancient of these matrons said that kind of riding was all right and ladylike, Tout as for her. she never in tended to ride a bicycle, no indeed— not unless they invent a side saddle ar rangement, said another. It w as a goodly company and no rude man need apply. They discussed no gossip and had kind words for every body, and closed the happy communion w ith prayer—a good, humble, grateful prayer by one of their number. My wife says it was a day to be remembered, and she lias invited them all to meet at our house on her next birthday and spend another centennial. Amen and amen, say I, and may the good Lord take none’of them away.—Bill Arp, in At lanta Constitution. A XIGIIT WITH WOLVES. THE USEFUL GIRAFFE. Land Buyor's Adventure in tho Pinorioa of Louia.ana. gnrroamlcrt l»y n Pack of Forty Ilnn- Igvy Urate*. He Hjie«»l* a Msht Which He Will Probably Aicver Forget. STEERING A STEAMSHIP. ‘■Rucslnu (tie Time and Distance” in Fouay Weather. The degree of “A. B." is not confined to college graduates. Aboard ship it means “able-bodied" seaman. Every nautical A. B. knows how to “box the compass" and how to steer by it; but you w ill be surprised to learn that no good helmsman will steer by a compass unless all other things fail him. Among those “other things” are the horizon, the wind, the wake of the ship, the stars, the soundings, and the line of the surf when running along the coast. And so the able-bodied seaman, when a greenhorn takes his trick at the w heel, hands over the helm to him with this caution: “Keep }onr head out of the binnacle!” 1 am speaking of sailing vessels. Steamers, especially those that travel on regular routes, steer by compass. They "run their courses” from point to point—from lighthouse to lighthouse, light ship, to day mark. buoy. bell, or fog whistle. lu thick weather they know, taking wind and tide into con sideration, how long they should stand on each course, and tr}* to pass the “sig nal” at the end of it. When they have seen or heard that signal, they start on the next "run” or course. This is called “running the time and distance.” 1 have gone into Halifax on a steamer that met w ith thick fog from Cape Cod down. One morning the captain said to me: “We ought to pick up Sambo in half an hour.” Surely enough, about half an hour later w e heard, through the fog. a can non shot, the distinguishing fog signal of the Sambo light station on the Nova Scotian coast. Real sailors—the Jack tars that man sailing vessels—actual!}* prefer, as I have said, to steer by signs rather than by compass; and there are times when the steamer pilots have to.—Gustav Kobbe, in St. Nicholas. Aiuturnl Coke in I tab. Works of mineralogy state that there is such a product as natural coke, but that only one deposit of the kind has been found in the United States, and that near Richmond, Ya. The Salt Lake Herald states, however, that a short time ago a vein of this coke was disooverc d about 140 miles south of that city w ithin 15 miles of a railroad. “The deposit crops out on the surface for some distance, and a 25 to 30-foot tunnel has disclosed a body of coke live feet in w idth." It is believed that with depth the size of the deposit will in crease. At assay offices w here it has been tested it is stated that the coke is a pure article, superior to that man ufactured, and is free from sulphur ami bitumen. It gives out no smoke when burned, and makes less ash than the manufactured article. Urave. He—1 called him a liar to his face. She—What gave you the courage? He—The telephone.—Brooklyn Life. A dr. a Tompkins, while looking for land for Hovey <5c McC racken, the big limiter dealers of Muskegon. Mich., had a startling encounter with wolves. Mr. Tompkins was in Calcasieu parish. La., southwest of Hamburg, Ark., and one night recently encamped in the pineries, which are vast in area and the very embodiment of solitude. The man who was with him had gone to Lake Charles, leaving Tompkins en tirely alone. Having had a hard day’s work, Tompkins cooked his supper, set the little lent in order, and retired after sundown. Before he could close his eyes, how ever, he became conscious that there was sonic living-thing cutside the tent. He got up, and, taking liks pistol in ; hand, crept to the door, or flap of the i tent, and, raising it, peered out. Dark- j ness had. settled down over the earth j like a pall, and in the gloom he was ! startled to see three pairs of eyes gaz- ingat him. He went outside and at once the eyes disappeared. But the disap pearance was only temporary; for lie ; had just turned to reenter the tent \ w hen he noticed that there was around I him a crescent of eyes which glowed ! like coals in the gloom, and which | drew nearer and nearer. He guessed j that his visitors were wolves, which | animals are rather numerous in that , section of Louisiana. He was conscious i of a strange feeling; not of fear per- I haps, but of loneliness and dread. He i discharged his pistol three times in | rapid succession, aiming at a pair of eyes each time, and as there was a chor us of yells and snapping of teeth, lie ' lie Cot Down Hull* Tlmt Hail kocIseA In tlie Hoof Glitter. “Good natured?" said the old circus man to a New York Sun reporter. “Why! The best in the world. When the old man's boy used to get a baseball lodged in a gutter at the eaves of tlie house—this was when we were off the road in w inter quarters—he never used to get out at. the scuttle and climb down the roof and take the risk of falling otT and breaking his neck to get it. He used to go to the barn and get out tlie giraffe. The old 13-footer w ould trot along after the hoy—he knew what was wanted— till they came to the house and then walk along the side looking down into the gutter as he went along until he • — --»•* ■in I Iv CO iff THE GIRAFFE LOOKED AGAIN'. came to the ball, and then he would pick it up and bead his head down and give it to tlie boy. “One day when the youngster had thrown a ball up on the roof and had seen it roll down into the gutter, he went as usual after the giraffe. When the giraffe Joked along the gutter that had the satisiaetion of knowing that ! ( ] a .. there was no ball there. He took his unwelcome visitors were minus at | least two of the original number. But the slaying of these two appeared to render their companions frantic, and the taste of blood, for, of course, the bodies of the slain wolves were almost i vm Y ■jYv'Yn l „ A, i ‘h [W IjZA his nose out of the gutter and looked down at the boy in tlie yard with a large interrogation mark in each eye as much as to say: “ ‘Sure it didn’t roll off somewhere?’ “And the hoy said ‘sure.’and then the giraffe looked again, but it wasn’t there, and the giraffe so reported with a sol emn shake of the head, and was driven back to the barn. “They wondered about this, for it was the first time the giraffe had ever failed to get the ball, and they knew it must he there, but it was soon explained. A day or two later there came a big rain storm. Instead of running a big noisy stream as usual, the tin water pipe from the roof ran just a little bit of a stream, and the water that should have run off in that way overflowed the gutters and dripped in a thin sheet against the side of the house. Then they knew why the giraffe couldn’t find the ball. It had rolled down the water pipe.” WAS WELL PREPARED. "Hr - _ HE FIRED AT THE BRUTES. ^ immediately devoured, made the sur- \ ivors more determined and aggressive. The dark and lonesome pineries re sounded with unearthly howls, ami Hie wolves marshaled for an attack, closing in on tin* little tent and its solitary oc cupant like a besieging army investing a fortified city. The crescent of a few moments ago had disappeared. In its place was a complete circle of fiery eyes. The wolves came apparently from every direction, creeping out of the tall grass, springing from the shadow of the giant trees, and rushing from the very heart of the woods. Tompkins went in the tent, and, fast ening the flap, lighted a candle and re loaded his pistol. Then he seated him self on a cracker box and tried to look 1 the situation square in the face. He | was alone in a small tent in the woods, ! with a pack of perhaps 40 wolves howl- | ing around him, with the evident deter- j mination of picking his bones! Hie only weapon of defense was a six-shooter, it was only a question of a few hours until ; the wolves would make their way in* ; side. His predicament was not only j hazardous, but every minute added to j his danger. Feeling that inaction at i such time was almost a crime, lit grasped ids revolver in one hand and tht I candle in the other and sallied forth, j The wolves, which were pressing close- | ly around on every side, fell back at the sight of the light, and their backward ! movement gave Tompkins an idea. He ! noticed a dead pine tree near the tent i It had once been a forest monarch, but : its massive trunk and limbs now lay in * splinters on tlm ground, where a stroke of lightning hud thrown it. He gath ered a handful of the broken limbs and ignited them with the candle; then he got an ax from the tent and cut the larger limbs and made a circle around the tent, the wolves meanwhile watch ing him, and ever and anon snapping at his very heels. But he kept on with his work, and when the wolves came dan gerously near lie kept them back with Bride FrIIjt Realised the Importance — • of the OcoRMlon. Rev. W. \V. Boyd, says the St. Louis Republic, is in the habit of administer ing a little wholesome advice to many of his parishioners w ho come to him to ask him to perform the marriage cere mony. He likes to take the man and the woman aside fora little sober chat about the duties of married life and the preparations that should be made for it. This is a story he tells of his minis terial experience in Newark. N. J.. a few years ago. A young couple came to him from a small New Jersey town to l>e married. The bride was a rosy- faced country lassie, and the groom a bright-eyed, hard-working young man. "Now,” said Mr. Boyd, in closing his remarks to the bride, “1 hope you will uki m if a,I SHE WAS WELL PREPARED. fully re*alize the importance of the step you are about to take. 1 trust you are fully prepared for it.” "Prepared!” answered she, inno cently. “if I ain’t, I don’t know who is. I’ve got four common quilts and two nice ones, four brand-new feather beds, ten sheets and a dozen pairs of pillow slips, six linen tableclothes. a dozen brand from the lire he had already ! K P oon * antl “ k ,f x>d six-quart tea-kettle. started. When the circle was finished he set it on fire, and in a little w hile it was burning brightly, and the wolves slunk back into the deeper recesses oi the woods. Tompkins says he kept up the fire until daylight, while the wolves howled in the shadow of the pines. With the coming of the day they disappeared. Domestic Joke from Itassla. One roads in a Russian ]»eriodieal which has a corner devoted to the “com ic.” this pleasantry: “What, Yanyou- shn, drunk again? I thought you only got drunk on the great holidays?" "To-day is a groat holiday; my mother- in-law has gone away.” Horses Food for Hoc*- A Woodford county (Ky.) man buy* all the old broken down horse* he can yet for one dollar a head, kill* and skint Ur m, and feeds the flesh to tho bogs. No girl in the country was ever better prepan-d than I. Don’t you think so, doctor?" Roach on the Gho*t. A Kentucky negro robed himself in white und repaired to a cabin where cer tain negroes were holding a dance, to play the ghost act. The negroes recog nized him. however, tied the sheet j round his waist and then set fire to it. The “ghost” fled in flames to a conven ient mill pond and saved his life by jumping in. Escaped Siberian Convicts. The last of seven escaped Siberian convict* who were found ut sea in • small l)oat and taken to San Francisco a couple of years ago has recently been disposed of by the state authorities, who sent him to prison for 20 yearn for burglary. One of hi* fellows w as some time ago banged for murder.