Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, August 02, 1883, Image 1

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Comer of Molt* nnd Penn Sin., at
Or tl-K if aot paid in idwH,
Acceptable Correspondence Solicited.
|3r"Addres all letters to
▲ Baby's Feet.
A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink,
Might tempt, should heaven see meet.
Ad angel's lips to kiss, we think,
A baby's feet.
T.ike mee-hued sea-flowers toward the heat,
They stretch anil spread acd wink
Their ton soft buds that part and meet.
No flower-bells that expand nnd shrink,
Gleam half so heavenly sweet
As shine on lifo's untrodden hi ink, .
A baby's leet.
A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled,
Whence yet no loaf expands, .
Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,
A baby's hands.
Then fast as warriors grip their brands
When battle's bolt is hurled,
They close,clenched hard like tighteiiiiH; bands.
No rosebud yet by dawn impeurled,
Match, even in loveliest lands,
The sweetest flowers in all the world—
A baby's hands.
A baby's eyes, ere speech begin,
Ere lips learn word or sighs,
IVcjs all things bright enough to wis.
A baby's eyes.
Jjove, while the sweet thing laughs au-1 lies,
And sleep flows out and in,
Sees perfect in them Paradise,
A haby's eyes.
Their glance might cast out pain and sin,
Their speech make dumb and wise,
By mute, glad godhead felt within
A baby's eyes. Swinburne.
"Get out. you old scamp!"
It was a brilliant July day, with
skies of cloudless blue, the air scented
with clover blossoms, and the brook
wending its melodious way under
green masses of peppermint; and Mr-
Carey. who had walked a long dis
tance, and luvd just fallen into a doze,
under the refreshing shadow of a
gnarled old apple-free, started galvani
cally up at this ungentle address.
"Ma'am," said he, "I assure you I am
not trespassing; I—"
But his apologetic words were cut
short by the rattling of a stout stick
on the stone wall, close to him: and in
another moment, a belligerent-looking
r ed cow, came plunging through the
high grass, directly toward his haven
of refuge.
He started to run, but his foot
catching in the gnarled root of an
ancient tree, he fell headlong. The
cow executed a hurdle leap over his
'prostrate form, and vanished in a
clump of hazel bushes; and a resolute,
bright-eyed woman, of sbtoie forty odd
years, came to the rescue, with a flap
ping sunbonnet tied over her ears, and
the stick balanced across her shoulders.
"Don't strike!" pleaded Mr. Carey t
"I'm getting off the premises as fast
as I can. I assure you, I didn't know
I was trespassing."
Desire Welland blushed very pretti
ly, as she pushed back the sunbonnet,
and endeavored to adjust her luxuri
ant red-brown hair, which had broken
loose from its pins.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said she. "It
wasn't you I meant at all, sir; it was
the cow who had got into the cabbage
patch. Did I hit you with the stick ?
Hut I never dreamed of any one but
Bpssy being there. Oh, do let me run
home and get the camphor bottle?"
Slowly, Mr. Carey raised himself to
sitting and then to a standing posture;
slowly he felt his knees, elbows and
. "I'm not hurt," said he—"not to
signify, that is. It wasn't your stick,
ma'am; it was the roots of this old
tree. It's enough to startle any man,
don't you see? to hear himself called
—an old scamp."
"But it wasn't you I meant," breath
lessly cried Desire; "it was the old
cow. Won't you let me run up to the
house and get a capcine plaster? Oh,
Desire was fair to look upon, in spite
of her forty summers, with big black
eyes, a laughing cherry-red mouth and
cheeks just browned with the health
ful hue of mountain breezes. Mr.
Carey felt himself gradually softening
as he looked at her.
"No," said he. "I don't care for a
capcine plaster. Hut I've walked a
good way, and I should like a bowl of
coffee if it's handy."
"Ob, pray come up Co the house
then," said Desire. "It's only a step
across the orchard. Oh, that cow, that
cowl We must certainly have her
hampered after this!"
"Perhaps," said Mr. Carey, solemnly f
as he endeavored to straighten the
edges of his hat, "you know a family
by the name of Welland who live here
abouts. Two old maids, who manage
a farm all by themselves. Very pecu
"ar females, I am told."
Desire stood still and began to laugh,
while the deep crimson suffused her
"Why," cried she, "it us. It's me
and Malvina. We are the Welland
iti t pillheim Journal
DEININGER & BUMILLER, Editors and Proprietors.
It was Mr. Carey's turn to flush and
look awkward now.
"Oh! w said he. "Well, It don't mat
ter. rye business at the Welland
farm—that's aIL"
"Isn't it strange that things should
happen so?" cried Desire, opening the
gate into the dim, shadowy orchard,
where scarlet lilies grew in the tall
grass, and robins darted in and out of
the drooping boughs. "There's the
house. You can see it now. Malvina
and 1 have managed the farm ever
since father died. Philo that's our
brother—has a house and an estate of
his own, and his wife don't want any
single relations. But we've done very
well, every one says. Here's the place.
And here's Malvina!"
Miss Malvina Welland was diligent
ly hoeing sweet corn in a man's hat
and boots. She was a tall, Amazon
ian sort of female, with high cheek
bones, hair cut short, and a masculine
way of leaning on her hoe. she looked
sharply around at the sound of foot
"Is it the new hired man?" said
site. "Then, Desire, you may tell him
that we don't want help that comes at
this time of day. I'll have no eight
hour men on my place."
"Oh, Malvina, hush!" cried the
younger sister, in despair. "It's a gen
tleman on business."
In came Brother Philo front the
back yard, with an auger in his hand
"Eh?" said Brother Philo, a wrinkled
hard-featured man in a b lite overall,
and boots that looked as if they might
have been carved out of lignum vita 1 .
•Business? It ain't a se win'-machine
I s'pose? or a new patent reaper, nor
any o' these labor-savin' humbugs?
Because "
"It's about your Cousin Rolf," said
Mr. Carry—" Paul Welland's son. He'
come back from Australia. lie re*
quested me tu come over here, as I hap
pened to be passing this way, and see
what his relations would do about giv
ing him a home."
At these words, Mrs. Philo Welland
emerged from the currant-bushes,
where she was picking the sparkling,
ruby-colored fruit to make jelly. For
Mrs. Philo believed in always picking
her neighbor's fruit before she began
on her own.
"A home, indeed!" said Mrs. Philo
"It's what I always told you. Philo!
JSays I, that man'll be s .re to come>
back some clay, poorer than poverty
says 1. And he'll expect us to take
care of him then. But we've worked
a deal too hard for our money—me and
Philo—and if he wants to be sup
ported, let him just go to the poor,
house. Paul Welland always was a
rovin' creetur', and Rolf ain't no bet
ter, I'll go bail!"
Mr. Philo Welland screwed up his
face into an expression of the utmost
'T'r'aps you're his lawyer, 'sir?'
said he.
Mr. Carey nodded.
"I act for him," said he.
"Then tell him," said Philo, succinct
ly, "that if he expects we're goin'
to support him, he's conside-a-bly mis
took! We've always took care of our
selves; he can do the same! Come,
Betsey, we'd better be goin'!"
"Philo!" cried out Desire; "how can
you be so selfish? Rolf Welland is
our cousin. If he is in Want or trou
ble, whom has he to look to but us?.
Malvina, you won't be so hard-hearted ?
The old farm-house is big enough for
our Cousin Rolf as well as for us.
You never would turn a sickly old
man adrift upon the world?"
"No, L wouldn't!" said Miss Malvina,
thumping her hoe upon the ground.
"Look here, stranger, tell Rolf Well
and he's welcome to a home with us.
We live plain, but we're ready to give
him a hearty welcome. Tell hirn to
come here at once. The sooner the
"Women is fools," incidently re.
marked Philo Welland, chewing a stalk
of currant leaves. "If you lost what
little you've got, do you s'pose this re
lative o' yourn would raise a linger to
help you ? Let every man take care
of himself, say 1!"
"And who knows," cried Desire,
brightly. "Perhaps we can get him
the district school school to teach ? I
heard Squire Loames say that the new
teacher wasn't going to stay more than
a quarter longer."
"I'm glad you can afford to take free
boarders," said Mrs. Philo, acidly. "Me
and your brother—we can't!"
"Do come in, now, and get the
coffee," said Desire. "And a few late
strawberries, Mr.—Mr.—"
"Carey is my name," said the
stranger, who had stood immovable
beneath the fiery hail of this con
versational episode. "That is to say>
it is my name now. I chanced to
make myself useful to a rich old gen
tleman in the East, who took a fancy
to me, and left me his property in his
will. The only condition appended
was that I should take his name in ad
dition to my own. And Carey isn't a
bad name."
"Certainly it ain't," said Philo, with
watering eyes. "1 only wish we had
a few of that sort of old gentlenun
out this way. I'd change my name
half a dozen times a day if it would
bo any accommodation to 'em. S >
you're rich, eh? Betsey,"—to his
wife "if this gentleman would be so
kind as to come and take dinner with
us to-day—"
"No," said the stranger, in a clear,
decisive voice. "Will you be so kind
as to hear me out? Carey, as I have
already told you, is only my adopted
name. My real name is Rolf Welland.'
"What!" roared Philo.
Mrs. Philo scrambled so hastily to
her feet that she upset the pail, hall
full of currants. Miss Malvina dropped
her hoe; and Desire, who had just
brought out a little saucer of late f
luscious, red straw berries stood amazed
at this revelation.
"You!" she cried, "our Cousin Rolf!
And I nearlv hit you with the stick,
chasing the cow, and half startled you
out of your senses, and—"
"And taught me," said the old
bachelor, with a strangely-sweet smile
"that there is yet left a spice of un
selfishness in the conglomerate called
human nature. Cousin Desire, 1 thank
you for the lesson. Believe me, 1 shalj
not soon forget it!"
And before the day was over, lie hail
helped Miss Malvina finish her patch
of sweet-corn, and mended the defec
tive fence-tails where the*offending
cow had broken through, besides stak.
ing up the sweet-williams, and nailing
the big rose-tree to th* frame from
whence its over-blossoming weight, hail
dragged it.
"I declare," said Miss Malvina, "he's
a real comfort about the place!"
"And he has traveled so much!''
cried Desire; "and he talks so beauti
fully! I only hope he'll le contented
There was no sort of dotibt about
that. Rolf Welland Carey was very
well contented. He had always hun-
a: d thirsted for the details of a
home lif* here it was to perfection.
Hut Mr. and Mrs. Philo were not so
well suited. All their spasmodic ef
forts toward friendliness were checked
with Arctic frigidity.
"It's too bad!" said Mrs. Philo, al"
most crying. "He'll be certain sure to
go and make a fool of himself by
marrying Desire, and we shall never
get a cent of his money. Desire ought
to be ashamed to think of such a thine
at her age!"
Hut Desire was only forty, and there
are late roses as well as early ones. At
least, so Mr. Welland thought. At all
events, he married Desire, and the
Philo Wellands were disconsolate.
"It's all our bad luck!" said they.
For they had forgotten all about t>v
passage in the Hildo that speaks of
"entertaining a 1 gels unawares!"
H(Un Fonrst Urates.
Hird-Hating Frog,
The following curious narrative is
taken from the Cape Tim*/, (.South
Africa.) A lady living in the George
district supplies the following particu
lars of the habits of this creature:
"I have much ple;isure in furnishing
all the information we have regarding
the large frogs which have proved so
destructive to our young chickens. A
water sluit runs round our terrace,
and passes through the ground where
the poultry range, and in this the frogs
harbor. The first time our attention
was drawn to their bird eating propen
sity was by the cries of a small bird in
a fuchsia near the stream. Thinking it
had been seized by a snake, several
hastened to the spot, and saw a beauti
ful red and green sugar bird in the
mouth of a large greenish frog; only
the bird's head was visible; and its
cries becoming fainter, the frog wa3
killed and the bird released. Its feath
ers were all wet and slimy, and for
some days we could distinguish it in
the garden by its ruffled plumage.
Since then the same species of frog
have on several occasions been killed
with young chickens half swallowed,
and once a duckling was rescued from
the same fate. Whether the noise is
natural to these frogs, or assumed to
decoy the chickens within their reach,
we know not; but they constantly
make a chuckling sound so exactly like
a hen calling her chickens for food
that we have seen whole broods de
ceived, and rushing toward the sluit
where they supposed the lien to be.
The frogs are very wary, and it is diffi
cult to And them except by the screams
of their victims. We have lost large
numbers of small chickens in an unac
countable manner, and now feel sure
that these frogs must be answerable
for very many of them, as there are
no rats here, and the chickens are care
fully housed at night.''
Ml LI, 11 RIM, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 2,188:?.
The Manner In Which l*r and Dam*
People Talk.
No one seeing the sign language can
help admiring its beauty and graceful
ness. This language is very pimple,
and any one taking the trouble to
study it with one of the speaking em
ployes at the asylum who is acquaint
ed with it, could soon acquire it. It is
universal among mutes, and is founded
upon the most natural and convenient
way of imitating the forms oL objects
spoken of, or making some sign which
suggests some quality or trait of it,
whenever this is possible. Here are a
few examples of the way dilferent
things are expressed:
Dog—Slap the right thigh just above
the knee with the right hand (as if in
viting a dog to come to you).
Girl Close the right hand, leaving
the thumb sticking out. Pass the
thumb over the chetk a few times,
downward strokes (indicating, perhaps,
"no beard.")
Boy—t'lose and open the thumb of
the right hand against the fingers rap
idly several times near and in front of
the forehead, the back of the hand
being upward.
Man—Same sign, and immediately
raise tlie hand high above the head
(indicating "high bov.")
House Touch the points of the ex
tended fingers and draw both hands ol>
iitjtiely down, the right toward the
right, and the left toward the left, as
if describing the roof.
Hat Take off the hat and put it on
again. If you happen to have none on,
go through the motion with the empty
Hoot Extend the second linger ot
both hands and draw up the leg, as it
pulling on a l>oot.
Hook- Press the fingers of each
hand together, and the thumbs against
the first fingers, place the lower edges
of the hands together, and open and
shut as a book.
Pat - Move the hands its if pulling a
mustache on both sides.
Englishman—Grasp the edge of the
left hand back of the little linger with
the right hand, the back of both being
German Extend the fingers of both
hands and cross theedgesof the wrists,
the light one up; shake the fingers
Columbus—Crook the" thumb and
fingers of the right hand to form the
letter C, and shake the hand.
Deaf and Dumb—Place the first lin
ger on the right hand to the lips and
then to the ear.
State House -Place the firsj, fingers
of both hands to the right and left
temples respectively, and make the
sign of house, described above.
Penitentiary—Cross the open fingers
of both hands to make bars, and jntss
the hands across the sides to indicate
These signs are, of course, much
simpler than many others which must
be seen to be described, but they serve
to show hhe manner in which the sys
tem is formed. Abstract ideas are
quite as easily and rapidly expressed,
and it is astonishing to note the few
verbs and adjectives it is necessary to
spell out by letters in a long conversa
tion. For instance, clapping the lin
gers of the right hand and the palm oi
the left means school; placing the
palms and lingers of both hands to
gether, prayer; waving the handker
chief in a crowd where deaf mutes are
invariably collects tnem together; tc
point the fingers of the right hand at
the open palm of the left and shake
them commanus pupils to study; touch
ing the left palm with the fingers oi
the right hand and rapidly passing
them towards the head a few times
means to learn (that is, taking knowl
edge from a book into the head):
passing the right palm over the upper
end of the left fist means enough, or
filled; pressing the first, second and
third lingers of the right hand against
the chin, with the thumb and small
finger extended to Uie right and left
respectively, means to make a mistake
or be wrong, etc. — Ohio State Journal.
Wanted the Iloss.
A travelling man who makes yearly
visits to a country store in Kentucky,
drove up to the establishment the
other day and asked to see the boss.
"How are you, Smith ?" he said,when
a very depressed looking man came to
the 4bor.
"How are you! Who did you want?
"1 wanted to see the boss."
"All right, I'll call- "
"Why, ain't you the boss?"
"No; not any more," and he looked
over his shoulder in a frightened way.
"You were when I was here a year
"Yes, I know it, but you see I've
got married since then."
There is no benefit so small that a
•mod man will not magnify it.
A Man Ones Insane Describe* lite Sensa
tions.—lie aeon Kesalned After Twelve
1 \v?is once insane and I often muse
over my experience. There are, of
course, many kinds of 1 sanity. Some
mental disorders take place so gradual
ly that even the closest companions of
the victim are at a loss to remember
when the trouble began. It must
have been this way in my case. One
evening, after an oppressively warm
day, a day when I experienced more
latigue from the heat than ever before
or since, 1 sat on the porch fanning
myself. "This arm that is now in
motion," 1 mused, "must one of these
days"be dust. 1 wonder how long will
the time be." Then I mused upon the
evidence. I had of immortality. I could
do tilings that other people could not
accomplish. I had gone through
battle after battle, and though bullets
sang and struck around me thick as
hail, yet 1 remained uninjured. I had
passed through epidemics of yellow
fever. My idea gained strength as 1
mused, and I vas convinced that 1
should live forever. No, this cannot
be, for death follows all men alike.
Yes, I am to die like other men, and I
believe it is my duty t<> make the most
of life; to make money, and enjoy my
self and to educate mv children. I
wanted to be rich, and 1 began to study
over an imaginary list of enterprises.
At last 1 hit upon radishes. People
must have radishes. They should be
in every store. They could be dried
and sold in winter. 1 would plant
fifty acres with radish sed, and people
all over the country would refer to me
as the 'radish king.' 1 would form a
radish syndicate, and buy up all the
radishes, and travel around and be ad
mired. I hastened to the house to tell
my wife that she was soon to be a radish
queen. At the breakfast table I said:
"Julia bow would you like to be a
radish queen?''
"A what?" she exclaimed.
1 explained my plan of acquiring
great wealth, and during the recital she
acted so curiously that I was alarmed.
I feared that she was losing hor mind.
Finally the seemed to understand. She
agreed with me, but told me not to say
anything more about it. After break
fast 1 saw her talking earnestly with
her father, and 1 knew that she was ex
plaining to the old gentleman how she
intended to pay his debts w hen I IK>
came known as the radish king. The
old man approached me, with much
concern, and told me that I needed
rest, and that I must not think of busi
ness. He was old and sadly worried,
and I promised him that I would not
think of business. Pretty soon I
went out to inspect my radish king
dom. Looking around I saw the old
man following me. From the Jjeld 1
went to the village. I approached a
prominent citizen, who had always
been my friend, and told him how 1 in
tended to become rich. He seemed
grieved, and 1 saw at once that he was
contemplating the same enterprise. It
seemed mean that he should take ad
vantage of me, and I told him so. He
tried to explain, but he made me so
mad that I would have struck him if
my father-in-law had not come up and
separated us. I tried to calm myself,
but could not. Those who had been
my friends proved to be my enemies,
and I was determined to be avenged,
but before 1 could execute my will, I
was seized by several men. My father
in-law did not attempt to rescue me,
and I hated him. I was taken to jail.
My wife came to see me, but she did
not try to have me released. I de
manded a trial, but no lawyer would
defend me. Then I realized that the
whole community was against me. I
became so mad that my anger seemed
to hang over me like a dark cloud. It
pressed me to the floor and held me
there. Men came after a Jong time,
and took me away, I thought, to the
penitentiary. One day a cat came into
my cell, and I tried to bite it. iShe
made the hair fly, but 1 killed her. 1
don't know how long I remained there,
but one morning the sun rose and
shone in at me through the window.
It seemed to be the tirst time that I
had seen the great luminary for
months. A mist cleared from before
my eyes. My brain began to work,
and suddenly 1 realized that 1 had
been insane. I called the keeper, and
when he saw me, he exclaimed: "Thank
God!" and grasped my hand. 1 was
not long in putting on another suit of
clothes, and turning my face toward
home. A physician said that I was
cured, and everybody seemed bright
and happy at my recovery. I boarded
a train with a gentleman, and went
home. My wife fainted when she saw
me and learned that I had recovered
my mind. I asked for my little child
ren and two big boys and a young lady
came forward and greeted me. I had
been in the asylum twelve years.—Col
onel Weekley, in Arkansas Traveller.
Gloves remain very long wristed,
Terms, $1 00 Per Year in Advance.
Unfortunate Alliance* tVhlch are !tlate
With A Urged Noblemen of Foreig"
I .and*.
Writing from London to the De
troit Post, W. A. Croffut says: If I
felt free to mention names I could
tell tales to wring the heart, about
American girl* who have married
English noblemen. In a!i..ost every
instance it proves fatal to the bride's
happiness. It isn't long since Lord
Flyfinger marrietl the heiress of an
American ("rusus. There was a tre
mendoiis time about it. She was
envied by all her marriageable cronies
ami i ld C'rii'sus was congratulated on
the fine alliance. I!e grinned with
sell eomjilacency and lianded over
SI,SUH,OQo to His Lordship FJvlinger
on the spot: Flyfinger took the wife
and the money and brought them tc
England, where he introduced her t<
a few acquaintances and then left hei
to shift for herself, while he travels
with relays of fast horses, races and
hunts, gambles and lives a wild life on
the million and a half of money fi
which he sold the shelter of his title tc
a bright, hopeful, ambitious American
Five or six years ago an American
girl whose name was on all lip*
married a rich Englishman, who had
the entree of high society in England
fShc was feasted, toasted, envied. Bui
she has slept in a social cocoon evei
since, hearttly wishing herself home
not seeing for months sometimes the
husband, who loves to follow the
An American gentleman living here
i w hose name would be recognized by
the reader if 1 were at liberty to men
j tion it, told me yesterday: "I have
j been approached within a month by*an
English lord, w ho may be a duke sonic
i day, but whose fortune has become
greatly impaired by his dissipation
j He has fixed his eye on an American
! girl whom he has never seen. She i*
j comparatively uneducated and not very
bright and fearfully plain. Her nost
is snub. Her mouth is large. Hei
eyes are small and watery. Her
father is :in Irishman. But he if
worth at least #20,000,000. This lord
wants me to bring about a match
between himself and this girl. I'd see
him hanged first, for I know what a
sacrifice of her it would he."
One other case: There is a young
lady now in high society in America,
her native land, whose husband is an
English lord and whose father-in-law is
a duke. .She is beautiful.accomplished,
interesting, and she might have made
a good match in New York. But she
wanted a lord, and she got him. He
inherited gambling from his mother,
the duchess, and he gambles away all
he can get. He is dissolute and un
scrupulous; she is neglected and
w retched. Bo she pays long visits to
her relatives in America, where she
can plunge into society and forget her
pitiful European experiment.
A t'ity of the Dead.
Two miles from Man-lan,on the bluffs
near the junction of the Heart and
Missouri rivers, is arn old cemetery of
fully one hundred acres in extent,
filled with bones of a giant race. This
vast city of the dead lies just east \>f
the Fort Lincoln road. We have just
spent. a half day in exploring this
charnel house of a dead nation. The
ground has the appearance of having
been filled with trenches piled full of
dead bodies, both man and beast, and
covered with several feet of earth. In
many places mounds from eight to ten
feet high and some of them a hundred
feet or more in length have been
thrown up.and are tilled with tunes,
broken pottery, vases of various bright
colored Hints and agates. The pottery
is of a dark material, beautifully deco
rated. in finish, and as light as
wood, showing the work of a people
skilled in the arts and possessed of a
high state of civilization. Here is a
grand field for the student, who w ill
be richly repaid for his labors by exca
vating and tunneling in these cata
combs of the dead. This has evident
ly been a grand battle-field, where
thousands of men and horses have
fallen. Nothing like a systematic or
intelligent exploration has been made,
as only little holes two or three feet in
depth have been dug in some of the
mounds, but many parts of the anato
my of man and beast, and beautiful
specimens of broken pottery and other
curiosities have been found in these
feeble efforts at excavation. Who are
they and from whence did they come,
dying and leaving only these crum
bling bones and broken fragments of
their works of art to mark the resting
place of a dead nation? Five miles
above Mandan, on the opposite side of
the Missouri, is another vast cemetery
as yet unexplored. We asked an aged
Indian what his people knew of these
ancient graveyards. He answered;
"Me know- nothing about them. They
were here before the red man."—Man
dan, Dakota, Pioneer.
j If üb§cribers order the diseontmnntion of
J newspapers, the publishers may continue to
send them until all arrearages are paid,
i If subscribers refuse or neglect to take their
i newspapers from the office to which they are
.sent, they are held responsible until they
' have settled the bills and ordered them dis
i If subscribers more to other places with
out informing the publisher, and the news-
Sapers are sent to tne former place of resi
ence, they are then responsible.
1 wk. 1 mn. I t mo*. I 1 jnmu
I •qtisr* SI (Ml $ 2HO a < 1 $ 4CO $ <1 OS
U column 3 (*| 4 (HI I 6 001 10 00 | Ift 0C
column 600 Roo| 12 001 30 (M I 35 00
I c01umn......... R * 12 00 I 30 00| 001 00 00
I' Uh inch nk a nqwm. Admuiwtrator* and K*-
j motors' fotior* *2.60. 'Cramient ndtcrlianmonls and '
locala It) rent* mr tin* fr •first tnaertiun and & c*t* per 1
me fur each additional maertiou.
NO. 30.
The Removal.
A rrrrons .1H ftcnllcmnn, tired of trmlo,
ly which, I hough it rocnis, boo lortdtio l.tvl
Took a hoiiMi 'iwnt two shed*, on the skirt#
ol tl*o to .vii,
Wiiich tic mount, lit his leisure, to liny and jgull
Tli'b thought Hi ruck bin mind hs he \iTwed
his ostale;
But altu! when ho entered he fouml it too
For in each dwelt u smith—a more hard-work
ing two _
Never hammered an anvil or put on a shoe.
At si* in the morning, their anvils at work
Awoke our new '.Squire, who raged like a
"These lellowa," he criod, "such a clattering
1 never cun get above eight hours of sleep!"
His afternoon's nap and his daughter's new
Were battered an 1 spoiled by their haramen'
ding dong!
At lust, both his health and spirits to improve,
He cried, "I'll give each fifty guineas to
move !"
"Agreed," said the pair; "that will make us
"Then come borne," said the Squire, "and let
us part lriends.
You shall eat, and we'll drink on that joylul
That each may live long in his new habita
•#' • •
•Now tell," said the Squire, "where you each
mean to move ?
1 hope to some place where bis trade will im
"Why, sir," replies one, with a grin on his
phi*, '
"Tom Forge moves to my shop, and I move
to his!"
The early hud catches the worm.
Speaking of the avocations of the
heavenly bodies, there is no doubt that
the sun is a tanner.
The single eyeglass is worn by the
dude. The theory is that he can see
more with one eye than he can compre
The engaged couple is not two souls
with but a single thought, as is gen
erally supposed. The thought about
staying single never occurs to them.
"Ah! I'm saddest when I sing,"
She sung in plaintive key,
And all the neighbors yelled—
"So are we! So are we!"
"What is a color guard, papa?" the
good boy asked. "A parasol and a
veil, my son," and the boy silently
wondered what soldiers wanted with
such things.
A Western paper announces the fact
that an acrobat turned a somersault on
a locomotive smokestack. This is
nothing. We know of an engineer who
turned on the steam.
When one little boy runs away with
another little boy's tart, the proper ca
per for another little boy to cut is to
strike a stained glass attitude and war
ble, "Good-by, sweet-tart, good-by."
"There is one thing connected with
your table," said a drummer to a West
ern landlord, "that is not surpassed by
the best hotels in Chicago." "Yes," re
plied the pleased landlord; "and what
is that?" "The salt."
"You must bathe regularly," said a
physician, gravely, as he looked at the
patient's tongue and felt his pulse.
"But, doctor, 1 do," returned the sick
man, "1 go in swimming regularly
every Fourth of July."
Honored for Their Deeds.
A peasant was one day driving
some geese to a neigh boring town
where he hoped to sell them. He had
a long stick in his hand, and to say
the truth, he did not treat his fiock of
geese with much consideration. Ido
not blame him, however; he was anx
ious to get to the market in time to
make a profit, and not only geese but
men must expect to suffer if they hin
der gain.
The geese, however, did not look on
the matter in this light, and happening
to meet a traveller walking along the
road they poured forth their com
plaints against the peasant who was
driving them.
"Where can you find geese more un
happy than we are? See how this
peasant is hurrying on this way and
that, and driving us just as though we
were only common geese. Ignorant
fellow as he is, he never thinks how
he is bound to honor and respect us;
for we are the distinguished descend
ants of those very geese to whom Rome
once owed its salvation, so that a festi
val was established in their honor."
"But for what do you expect to be
distinguished yourselves?" asked the
"Because our ancestors—"
"Yes, I know; I have read all about
it. What I want to know is what
good have you yourselves done?"
"Why, our ancestors saved Rome."
"Yes, yes; but what have you done
of the kind ?"
"We? Nothing."
"Of what good are you, then? Do
leave your ancestors at peace. They
were honored for their deeds; but you,
Hy friends, are only fit for roasting"