TIIE MILLHEIM JOIR^AL,
PUBLISHED EVERY TTRTRBDAY BY
Deininger & Bumiller.
Office in the New Journal Building-,
Pcnn St., near Hartman's foundry.
SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,
OR $1.25 IF NOT PAID IN ADVANCE.
Acceptable Corresjoiience SoliciteJ.
Address letters to MILLHKIM JOURNAL.
THE REST THAT FOLLOWS P AIN
The night has come, and the starlight
Falls on the restless sea
Like a gleam of hope through the darkness
Of a weary doubt to me.
1 see the foam of the billow
Flash like the shining rain.
Then fall Into silenc > and shadow,
Like the rest ihut follows pain. J
(>, wonderful, beautiful billow,
XViIU your cbauuiiiK shadow and shine,
Claspinv: the stars In your bosom,
1 think your life is like miue.
Like mine, reaching through darkness
From the restless, moaning sea.
Pleading with ceaseless endeavor
For a life tivxt can never be.
Yon clasp your mantle, O billow.
With coins from the brow of night;
1 grasp, through shadowy future,
Sweet rays of heavenly light.
Oh. life of a ceaseless endeavor;
Oh, wave of the troubled sea;
Star of the weary night-watch,
Beacon of faith to me.
O. heaven, with dowers of promise;
O, earth, with travail and care:
Soul of Uod's mighty conception.
Peace on the brow of despair.
I stand by the surging ocean—
The starlight tails on the foam.
And a feeling of rest comes o'er me,
Line a wanderer nearlng his home.
A SNOW THOUGHT.
Oh! the snow came so tenderly.
Like happy white nuns at play.
And the outstretched arms of the o ik tree
Seemed covered with silver spray.
And two small brown birds were a-singing
A dear little song of love.
Like many white angels a ringing
Pcaco to the world above.
The leaves of the exer-green Ivy
Seemed open books of prayer,
Their pages of praise turned tcuderly
By fair white spirits of air.
Once they were sisters of charity.
These little white stirs of snow;
A blue-bell whispered it all lo me
Oh! ever, so long ago.
And the rough brown arm of the oak tree
Was a gloomy convent small,
Where sun-warm kisses fell cheerily '
And brightened the dusky wall.
The leaves of the ever green ivy
Were really white books of praise,
Where the dear white nuns read reverently
Their beautiful convent lays.
And the little brown birds a singiug
Were always the convent choir;
And each little chorister ringing.
Was worthy quite of its hire.
So now when the snow falls tenderly,
The spirit of song takes wing;
Then grim leaflets of swaying ivy
A beautiful thought I sing.
CONQUERING A HUSBAND.
"Uncle Phil has been lecturing me a
gain I" exclaimed Mrs. Marian Dykes,
8S her husband came home to tea one
evening. "I cannot, and I will not,
stand it any longer," and the young
wife dropped into a chair as though the
last remaining portion of her strength
had left her.
What was the subject of the lecture,
my dear," inquire! Mr. Dykes, with a
cheerful smile, as though he did not re
gard the situation as at all desperate.
"You know very well that Uncle
Phil has but one subject."
"And that is extravagance, or the
reverse, economy," added Mr. Dykes.
"Of course that was the subject of
tbe lecture ; and you always take his
side of the question. Uncle Phil has
ten times as much influence with you
as I have. Whatever he say 9is right,
and whatever I say is wrong," retorted
Mrs. Dykes rather warmly.
"If supper is ready, I think we had
better attead to that next; and we
shall have the whole evening to discuss
Uncle Phil's lecture. Tne subject will
keep for awhile."
"But Uncle Phil will be here to take
part in the disscussiou; and that is just
what I don't want. He overshadows
me entirely when he says anything,and
I might as well hold my tongue as
speak," pouted the wife.
"Uncle Phil will not be bere,Marian.
It is half past six, and he has to go to a
church meeting at seveD."
"Very well but I am going to have
something done this time, I won't
have Uncle Phil here any longer. If
he is to stay in this house I shall not."
Mrs. Dykes was very young, and her
angry pout, as she sailed out of the
room, made her look decidedly pretty ;
at least so thought her husband. But
before she was fairly out, the door o
peued and Uncle Phil came in. The
door was ajar and he must have been
in the hall during some portion of the
lady's severe remarks sbout him. But
he looked as placid as though earth
had uo sorrow for him. He was a
man of fifty, though h's hair and beard
were white enough for seventy.
He did not seem like a man who
could be very disagreeable if he tried.
He had adeaconish look about his face,
that of a serious though not austere man.
Certainly no one would have taken him
for a shipmaster,but he had spent most
of his life at sea or in foreign parts.
He used to read the Bible to his crew
every Sunday, and never allow any
swearing or other bad languige in his
presence ou board ship. Though he
was a "p3alm siuging skipper," no
captain was ever more popular with
his men then Captain Dykes.
Uncle Phil had been married in early
life, but his wife died while he was ab
sent on a long voyage. lie had recently
given up the sea, and retired to his na
tive town, now an important place ot
10,0tKi inhabitants. He found himself
a stranger thero.but at his own request
his nephew had taken him as a board
er.
DEININGER & BUMILLER, E iitors ami Proprietors.
VOL. 58.
The gossips were not a little bother
ed to determine whether the retired
shipmaster was rich or poor, lie en
gaged in every church and btMieyohuit
enterprise, and contributed m<uleratclv
of his means.
Charles Dykes had op.vaed a store in
Tripleton a year before, and everybody
thought he was doing we'l. Mrs.
Dykes thought so, though Chailes him
self insisted that he was not making
money very rapidly ; he could not tell
how much until lie balanced his b >ons
and took account of st >ck. In the
main he was a prudent, canful young
man, or at least was disposed to be so.
Uncle Phil made a hasty supper, and
then went to his meeting, lie acted
just a little strangely for him, though
the smile had not deserted his face,
lie said less than usual, and seemed to
be thinking very earnestly about some
thing.
"Do you suppose he heard what 1
said Charles ?" asked Mrs. Dykes, af
ter Uncle Phil had gone.
"I think uot ; but you ought not to
say anything behind his back that you
would not say to his face," leplied the
husband. "Uutle Phil is a good man,
one of the salt, of the earth.
"He is altogether too salt for me.
If I should put too much salt in the
doughnuts, you would not like them
Uncle Phil is sailer than L>t's wife."
"I am sorry you don't like him, Ma
rian."
"I can't like a man who is continual
ly tripping me up, and lecturing me
upon economy. You ought to know
better than be does what you can af
ford."
"I am sure nothing but his interest
in us prompts him to say anything. If
one means well almost anything can be
excused."
"When I said that I wished you
would keep a horse so I could ride out
every day or two, he read me a lecture
half an hour iu length. Whether he
heard me or not, I said just what I
meant. You must get him out of the
house in some way, Charles. Take
your clerk to board,and tell your uncle
we mnst have the room."
"If I tell him to go, I shall tell the
reason why I do so."
"I am willing to bear all the blame.
I don't want any one in the house to
come between me and my husband,"
said the lady with a deal of spirit.
"Uncle Phil does not come between
you and me, Marian. That is absurd."
"I have asked you, and eveu begged
you a dozen times, to keep a horse.
Uncel Phil takes sides with you against
me."
"But he never said horse to me in
his life. I can't afford to keep a
horse."
"Yes, you can Chailes. They say
you are doing more business than Tink
ham, and he keeps two horses ; and his
wife looks patronizingly down on uie
from her carryall when she meets me
in the street," added Mrs. Dykes, with
considerable bitterness in her tone.
"I know nothing about Tinkham's
business, and Ido know something a
bout my own," replied Mr. Dykes.
Before the supper things were remov
ed Charles Dykes had promised to buy
a horse and buggy. It appeared to be
the only way in which he could induce
his wife to allow Uncle Phil to Jitmain
in the house. Doubtless he was weak
to yield the point against his own
judgement.
In the evening 'Squire Graves made
a friendly call. Mrs. Dykes was very
glad to see him, for he had a lady's
horse to sell. It was just the animal
she wanted, and as stie had conquered
her husband once that day, she intend
ed to have the horse trade settled that
evening.
"Glad to see you, 'Squire ; anythiug
new ?" the young merchant began,do
ing the usual common-places.
"There is news, but I suppose you
have heard it," replied the visitor."
"I haven't heard anything ; what is
it ?"
Haven't you heard that Tinkham has
been attached ?"
"Tinkham ! Is it possible ?" ex
claimed Mr. Dykes, glancing at his
wife.
"It's a fact ; a keeper was put in
his store this afternoon, and an attach
ment put on his horse and carriages."
"That was all because he kept two
horses when one was euougli for him,"
intei posed Mrs. Dykes.
With her the moral was between two
horses and one.
Before the equire left lie had sold his
lady's horse. Mrs. Dykes was perfect
ly happy, and her heart began to warm
even toward poor Uncle Phil. When
the retired shipmaster came in from
the meeting, there were a dozen things
she wanted to do for his comfort. The
lady had beaten her husband and his
uncle, an! she was satisfied.
Before breakfast tho next morning
'Squire Graves' man led the horse over
and put him in the little stable. One
of the clerks was to take care of him.
Uncle Phil saw the purchase, but he
MILLITEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 17., 1884.
said r.oMiiug unpleasant. He loolnd
the animal over, said he was worth the
hundred dollars to be paid for him in
goods from the store. Marian even
thought she liked Uncle Phil then.
Tie did not prophesy any evil or disss
(„■.
After breakfast the lady thought she
would drive to her faih r's, in the next
town.
She returned in season for dinner.
But Uncle Phil did not come down
to that meal. The lady rang the hell
a second tine*, but with no better re
sult. Uncle Phil evidently did not hear
the bell, for he never kej. t the t iblo
waiting for him. Tho door was wide
open, and she went In. The shipmas
ter was not there. His trunk was not
there ; the picture of tho Soabird, in
which ho had sailed many a voyage,had
been taken from the wall.
Was it possible that Uncle Phil had
gone without even saying good-bye to
them ? There was a letter on the ta
ble. it was addressed to "Mr. and
Mrs. Charles Dykes." With the letter
in her hand sho hastened down to the
dinner-room. To say that she was as
tonished and chagrined, would not half
express her feeling.
"Uncle Phil had gone V" she ex
claimed. "He has left for good, big
and baggage." She tossed the letter
upon the table,for she had not tho cour
age to open it.
"Then I suppose you are quite satis
tied, Marian. You have got the horse,
and got rid of Uncle Phil," said Mr.
Dykes,greatly grieved to learn that the
worthy man had gone; and he saw that
he must have heard the impulsive
words of Mrs. Dykes the evening be
fore.
Mrs. Dykes dropped into her chair
at the table, and burst into tears.
Just as she had become reconciled t>
the boarder, lie had lied without even a
word of explanation. She intended to
treat him with the utmost kindness
and consideration, as a noble warrioi
treats a failed foe. Just then she felt
as though she would be willing to lose
the horse to regain Uncle Phil.
Charles opened the letter. It was
very short, but there was not a parti
cle of bitterness in it. He should still
pray for them, and desiren to do all he
could to serve and make them happy.
"I will go back to him and beg him
to come back, Charles !" exclaimed
the weeping wife. "You will never
forgive me."
"I am very sorry he has gone, but 1
will not hate you, Marian. We will call
upon him this evening at tlie hotel."
They did call. Uncle Phil was ex
actly the same as he had been before.
He was glad to see them, and there
was not a particle of change in his tone
or manner. Both Charles and his wife
tried to siy something about his leav
ing their house ; but he headed the n
off eveiy tirue. lie would not permit
the matter to be mentioned. Tney
went home, unable even to get in an
apology.
Both of them missed the kindly
words and wholesome advice of the
good man, though Mis. Dykes would
not acknowledge it. 11 is good inllu
ence upon both was lost. Even Charles
became rcckles in his finances.
The close of Tinkham's store brought
more business to the young merchant
for a time, though tlie bankrupt's suc
cessor soon made things exciting for
him. A ruinous competition followed.
No longer restrained by Uncle Phil's
prudent counsels, Charles branched
out, and grasped more than he could
handle.
At the end of the year the balance
sheet was not pleasing to look upon.
Then followed a a reckless attempt to
recover lost ground. Notes at the
Tripleton Bank became very trouble
some. One of tnem was given for a
new piano. People said Dykes was liv
ing too fast. Tiie young merchant
was worried. lie had yielded to one
extravagance and there was a long
train, behind it.
His next balance-sheet showed that
he was three thousand dollars in debt,
and his stock was not worth half tho
sum. lie saw that must fail. After
supper, one evening, he told his wife
all about it- It would be a terrible hu
miliation to fail, as Tinkham had; and
poor Marian wept as though her heart
would break.
In the midst of the scene Uncle Phil
walked into the room,as lie always did,
without the ceremony of knocking,
lie often called.
"Uncle Phil, I am going to fail, for
I cannot pay a note of four hundred
dollars that falls due to-morrow," said
Charles, bitterly, when he saw that he
could not conceal the facts from the
good man.
"How much do you owe in all,
Charles ?" asked Uncle Phil.
"About three thousand dollars,"
groaned Charles.
"Will three thousand put you on
your feet, solid ?"
"Yes, sir ; but at raise three
hundred."
\ PAPER POR THE IIO.ME CIRCLE
"I will give you a check f• r three
thousand in the morning. 1 will bo at
the store at eight o'clock. 1 noticed
that you havo looked worried lately ;
hut. you said nothing 10 me."
"1 could not sav anything io yoii.uu
ele ; ai d 1 cannot take your money,af
ter what l a.', happened."
"Nothing has happened >\t, and
with the blessing of (lod, nothing shaP
happen."
Uncle I'hil would not understand
him.
"Yon may help mo on ono condi
tion." add-.il Chillies, lifter sonic dis
cussion. "And that is that vuu will
come 1) tck and live with us."
Mmian joined in insisting upon this
I condition, and the g< >d man yielded.
Tie used no reproaches ; ho would not
' even pay, "1 told you so." The note
i was paid the next day, and in the even*
ingUmle I'hil was domiciled in his
old apartment quite as happy as ilie
young people.
Chut lea sold the lady's horse,the bug
gy, the piano, and other extras, and re
] duced all his expenses to a very reason*
| able figure. Marian was happy again,
and did not believe t'-ere was any too
much sail about Uncle l'hil. She bad
given up the business of conquering a
! husband. In fact, both of them have
I come to believe that neither should
conquer, or try to conquer, the other.
After a while it came out that Uncle
Phil was worth at least fifty thousand
dollars. Doubtless the church and the
missions will gt-i some of it ; but it is
probable that Charles Dykes will bo re
membered,though both he and bis wife
sincerely hope that the good man will
live tiil ho is a hundred.— Good C/uer.
ORGAN GRINDER'S PROFITS.
You sympathetic ladies who send
nickels and silver pieces by a servant to
the poor organ grinder who stands at
your door, or who throw down to him
from an upper window pennies wrap
ped in thick writing paper, may like to
know how much the man gets in t lie
course of the day, ana what he does
with his money. For the latter, he
does not spend more than a seventh
part of it. He puts it in a bag and
then in a long, low chest in bis room,
to save until lie hus cuougli to go back
to Southern Italy arra live at ease.
More often he joins every night a se
lect club of fellow-countrymen, who
stack up their organs at the end of the
room, and gamble, gamble the pennies
away in long and delieeous excitement.
How much, think you, does lie earn?
More than a carpenter, or a bricklayer,
or a policeman, or a postman, or a
salesman in a store, who wears gloves
and a silk hat. He averages $1 a day.
He labors systematically, and has his
regular beat, and his varied art to ex
tract the pennies from persons of each
class he plays before. As be expressed
himself in a moment of rare expansive
ness, lie "plays on 200blocks every day,
and it's a poor block that does not giye
two cents."
How to Amuse a Baby.
It is an important question, and fre
quently in the minds of young mothers:
How can I get a little more time for
myself and still have the baby happy ?
I know of one way to do this, and
having tried it faithfully can recommend
it. After the morning nap, and the
rest which comes after it, seat baby on
the floor, put within his reach a basket
in which you have placed such play
things as are adapted to his taste; for
instance, my basket this morning con
tained a tin soldier on horseback, an
impossible looking rabbit of red canton
flannel—the gift of a friend who evi- 1
dentl/ does not 'commune with nature
in her visible form," a piece of rope, a j
ball of yarn, a few empty spools, one)
spool of basting thread, which affords !
endless amusement; a few blocks of ir
regular shape and brightly colored, and
lastly a linen picture-book, a relic of
some othercliildhood long past. These
single objects amuse a restless baby for
an hour at a time, and to be put on the
floor and be allowed to unpack the
basket is a daily pleasure; the contents
of the basket can be changed, or better i
still, have two baskets; giye one one !
day and the other the next; my experi- j
ence with children warrants inc in con- ;
eluding this better than a complete and
finished plaything. They value some- j
thing upon which they can exercise
the imagination.
Respecting the early postal faccult
ies in Texas a writer in the Galveston
News says: "The intelligence of the
death of President Jackson was
brought to Galvctton by the master of
an Italian brig, whose craft bad stop
ped at the mouth of the Mississippi
and received a New Orleans paper con
taining an account of the death of 'Old
Hickory.' Neither the Captain nor
any of his crew being able to read En
glish, the panel* was untouched until
three days alter the arrival of the brig
at this port, when it was accidentally
j discovered and the tidings were given
to the people of Texas fourteen days
! after the President's death."
What Millionaires Eat.
Joseph E. Brown, of Georgia, is the
wealthiest stud one of the oldest of the
United Stab s Sen,iters. He is also one
of the plainest men to be found any
where. He may be called a "home
granny." He wears long white whis
kers and store clothes. lie Is fond of
old-fashioned things, especially olden
time dinners. The other day he sat in
the cloakroom on the Democratic side
of the Scuete with a number of his old
Senatorial friends, smoking and joking.
Finally the conversation turned on
dinners and good things to eat. Sen
ator Butler, of South Carolina, knows
a good dinner as well as any man when
it is served ont to him, and in his most
eloquent terms lie told of how he liked
canvass-back duck and sauternc, and
Canada grouse and champagne and
tarrapin and good old sherry, and ho
wanted it served up hot, with a royal
old crowd of boys around him. Then
several other Senators named their
favorite dishes. Senator Brown looked
on and listened, while a stream of wa
ter trickled out of his mouth. Finally,
he broke in:
"Well gentlemen, you may talk of
your terrapin and champagne, and
your crowds, and all that, but you may
just dish up old Joe Brown and his old
woman puddle duck and sweet pota
toes."
And he wiped his mouth o:i his coat
sleeve and fairly worked his jaw at the
thought of it.
Tho Painter's Ruse.
There lived in Brussels a celebrated
painter named Wiertz, whose eccen
tricities were such as to give him the
name of the 'Crazy Artist.' That there
was method in his madness the follow
ing anecdote-shows:
After having finished a portrait of
the aristocratic Countess Ue Arraos,
who pretended to be only thirty when
nearly sixty, she refused to accept the
| painting, saying it did not look any
thiug like hers ilf, and that her most
intimate friends would not recoguiz)
a single feature of her on that piece ol
canvas.
Wiertz smiled kindly at the remark,
and, as a true knight of old.gallantly
conducted the lady to her carriage.
Next morning there was a grand dis
turbance in the Rue de Madeline.
A big crowd was gathered before a
window, and the following was whisper
ed from ear to ear.
*ls the Countess de Arnos really in
goal for her debts?'
Wiertz had exercised a little ven
geance towards his noble but unfair
customer.
As soon as sue had refused the por
trait lie set to work, and painted a few
iron bars on the picture, with these
words: 'ln goal for debt.'
He exhibited the painting iu a jewel
ler's window in the principal street of
Brussels, aiul the effect was itstantan
eous.
A few hours later the Countess was
back at Wiertz's pouring invectives on
him at high presure—'to have exhibi
ted her likeness under such scandal
ous—'See.
'Most noble ladv,' was the artist's
reply, 'you said the painting did not
look anything like yourself, and that
your most intimate friends would not
have recognized a single one of your
features in the picture. I wanted to
test the truth of your statement; that
is all.'
The portrait was taken away, the
city laughed, the artist charged double
price, and gave the amount to the poor
of the city.
Fortune befriends the bold.
Order is heayen's first law.
Youth should be a savings bank.
Silence never yet betrayed any one.
Remorse is the echo of a lost virtue.
Patience is bitter,but its fruit is sweet,
A quiet conscience makes one so serene.
Fools rush in where angels fear to
tread.
A good smile is the sunshine of wis
dom.
Conscience is man's most faithful
friend.
The worst men often give the best ad
vice.
Where boasting ends there dignity be
gins.
Let not tho sun go down upon your
wrath.
A good conscience is a continual Christ
mas.
Tho worst of slaves is lie whom passion
rules.
A man may smile, and smile, and be a
villain.
After the alarmed bystanders had al
most frozen their lingers in rescuing an
inebriate who bad fallen overboard
from a wharf in Baltimore, betook up
a collection, and with the 79 cents that
lie got he sidled off to the nearest bar- i
room. A merchant who had been a
quiet spectator said: "This makes the
fifth time that fellow has fallen into
the water tnis month. I fancy it's his
last resort when he wants money to get j
a drink, as he always takes up acul-j
ection afterward."
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
The Bad Boy's l a in a Trap.
When a man gets old and thinks he
knows it all Iheie is no use Irving to
'argue wilh hint, so I unbuckled iny
! skat.es and pulled t hem off and ho put
them on. Well, he wabbled about for
a IVw minutes, like a feller that has
| been drinking giu, and be held on to
j things till he thought he had gut to his*
beatings, whan he struck out lor the
back end of the basement. As lie came
along by the furnace one leg began to
go over towards the neighbors', and lie
grabbed hold of the corner of the fur
nace, swung around behind it, out of
sight, and we heard an earthquake, and
something .snapped like a st e! trap,
and pa yelled, 'by ciimus,' and ma
(tame down stairs after some sassidge
foDbreakfast, and she saw pa and she
said' Merciful goodness,' and by that
time me and my churn had got there.
Well, you'd a dido to see pa. He had
come down like a ton of coal, right on
that steel trap, and it bad sprung and
caught a whole mouthful of pa's pants,
and about a pound and a half or two
pounds of meat, and pa was grating
his teeth to try and stand it. O, it
was'tho most lediculous position I ever
saw pa into, and he got mad and told
me to unspring the trap. We turned
him over and me and my chum tried
our best to open the trap, but it was
one of these traps with a strong spring,
and we couldn't. Fa was the only one
that could unspring the-trap, and lie
couldn't go around behind himself to
get at it; so I told him I would go after
a doctor, but lie said this was a place
where a doctor was no good, and he
wanted a plumber or a blacksmith.
' Fa wanted to go up in the parlor to sit
, on the sofa while I was gone after the
plumber, but. the trap was chained to
the furnace, and we couldn't get it
loose, so pa bad to lay there on the ce
ment floor till the, plumber e me. The
plum Iter laughed at pa, and said lie bad
done all kinds of plumbing before, but
he never had a call like that. Well, he
got pa out, and I don't suppose there
is a madder man in this town than pa,
but there was nobody to blame but him
self. Say, do you see how I can be blam
ed about it?
A Puss Now in Fashion.
"Arc Angora cats getting to be
fashionable for pets ?' asked a repor
ter of a dealer.
'Ob, yes, indeed,' was the reply;
'within the last month the demand has
hcen quite large and strange to say I
sell as many by mail as 1 do in the
city. Only yesterday I sent one to
New Orleans and last week one to Chi
cago. They seem to Ik 4 rapidly tak
ing the place of pups. Come in and
see thecats? ' So saying, the reporter
was shown into a room where a dozen
or more animals with long tails and
hair sweeping ihe floor were playing
together or sleeping on hair cushions.
Same were white, some tortoise and
others mouse-colored, or blue, in the
parlance of the trade.
'There are also black and chinchilla
cats," said the dealer. 'These blue
ones are the rarest, but the white cats
seem to be the greatest favorites.
Some people maintain that only the
white cats are the pure breed, but that
is not so, as quite frequently white cats
will have different colored kittens.
' What is the most valuable cat you
have? "
'This large white Tom is the most
expensive; he is woith SSO. The other
cats are worth from S4O to SSO. The
kittens are w_rth S2O for the males and
sls for the female.'
The dealer then explained the differ
ence between tiie Angora and the Per
sian cats, which is very slight, the Per
sians having a longer face and larger
ears. The animals are very delicate
and require great care in raising, colds
being the chief enemies of the feline
kind. Each cat must have u hair cush
ion and bo washed regularly and rubbed
with cocoanut oil. Birds and scraped
beef are found to be the best food for
them. A few cats are imported from
England, but most of them are raised
by a man in rnaine.
—►
In the middle of the main street of
Aberdeen, Miss., are artesian wells
several squares apart which supply
the city with water. Every well is
covered by a large pagoda, and the
ground beneath is paved. The water
runs from spouts into troughs, and
passes off under ground.
* ♦ ♦ •
A few years ago cotton seed
was regarded as a waste material, to
be disposed of with as little expense
as possible. Now it is not only em
ployed as a general fertilizer on many
plantations, but thousands of tons of
it are sold at the oil mills, where, af
ter the oil has been expressed, the cake
is used for feeding all kinds of stock.
NO. 3.
NEWS PAPEULAWB.
If subscribers order the diseontiuuntkn of
newspapers, the mifltshcr* may continue to
send ihem until all arrearages are paid.
' If subscribers refuse or nepleet fo take their
newspapers from the ofTlee to which they are sent
they are held responsible until they have settled
the bills and ordered them discontinued.
If subscribers move toother places without in*
forming the publisher, ami the newspaper* are
sent-to the former place, they are responsible.
g ■"
ADVERTIBINO RATES.
1 k. 1 mo. |ft me*. 6 imp. 1 your
I square ? :w * 1 ih) | i?:on $6 00 18 00
4on <; oo l 10 no 15 00 18 00
\i " 700 10 00 15 00 30 00 40 00
1 " WW 15 00 1 25 00 46 00 "5 00
One Inch nnikea a sraavn. Administralnrs'
and Executor*' Xotloi's $4.50. Transient adver.
lisementsnn I local* 10 cent* ncr line for first
Insertion and 5 cents per line for each addition
al InsciUon.
HUMOROUS.
The latest sweet thing in cradles.—
The new baby.
The net to patch a man matrimon
ially—the brunette.
The polecat is supposed to have
been the original " little one for a
scent."'
Society is very queer. The people
most sought after are those who do
not pay their debts.
"Every cloud has its silver lining."
The bov who has the mumps can stay
away from scool.
"How can a women Tell?" is the
title of a recent poem. " How cin
she help telling ?" would be more ap
propriate.
The man that parts his hair in the
middle and wears dude eye-glasses
may have brain, but it's no fault of bis.
He inherits them.
If the anatomy of some people were
J constructed upon the proportion of
what they say to what they do, there
wouldn't Ik 1 anything of them but
mouth.
A quack doctor began bis advertise
ment with the solemne and truthful
declaration, " I offer my services to
all who are so unfortunate as to re
quire them."
First Amateur (after a soprano tor
nado); "Thank goodness! That's over!
Regular screech owl, isn't she?" Se
cond amateur: "You idiot? That's
just all you know alwut it. Why her
father's worth trillions!"
"When I marry." said a budding
school f/irl " I'll want a tall, fine-look
ing man. "" There's where you're
wrong, sis. "said her more practical
mother. " You'll have less trouble
watching an ugly man and enjoy
more of his company."
"I shan't begone Ion;/," remarked
J uuiper as he left the house the other
evening. "Not going anywhere in
particular: only going out to take the
air." "Be careful that you dont come
in air-tight," was the injunction of
Mrs. J., whose knowledge of Juniper's
failing had not begotten confidence.
Mamma (soothingly) : "Well, my
dear, I wouldn't feel so badly about it,
I'm sure. " Daughter :" Oh, but to
think of all the trouble we've had
sending to that milliner in Paris, and
having a fight with papa over the bill,
and then to have that horrid girl come
out with one twice as stylish ! Oh, it's
enough to make one go into a con
vent 1"
One night a woman was trying
hard to get her drunken husband home,
and as she pulled him along the street
her words and actions were so tender
that a by-stander said, Well, all
drunkards' wives haven't your dispo
sition. " " S-h-h ? don't say anything,
she replied in a whisper, " I've got to
call him pet names to get him home;
but wait till he drops in the front—
passage—be there then!'
'Judge, don't be hard on an old vet.,'
pleaded a drunken loafer, who was ar
raigned at the Central Station Court,
Monday morning. 'Were you in the
war?' 'I was, your honor.' 'What regi
ment?' .No regiment. I sloshed around
myself.' 'What army were you attach
ed to?' 'None of 'em."Were you in
any battles?' 'Heaps of 'em, your hon
or.' 'Give me the name of any one
battle.' 'Bunker Ilill,' was the prompt
reply. 'Bunker Hill? Why that bat
tle was fought over a hundred years
ago!' exclaimed the court. 'Of course
she was, your honor—of course she was.
Do you think I'd be mean enough to
ask you to go light on me for having
sloshed around in any of these riots of
the last fifty years?'— Detroit Free
Press.
MRS. TICKLE.
Mr. Ilarry Erskine, who succeeded
Mr. Ilenry Dundas, afterwards Lord
Melville, as Lord Advocate of Scotland,
happening to have a female client of
the name of Tickle defendant in an ac
tion, commenced his speech in the fol
lowing humorous strain: "Tickle, my
client, the defendant, my lord." The
auditors, amused with the oddity of
the speech, were almost driven into
hysterics by the Jute replyiug,'Tickle
her yourself, Harry; you are as able to
do it as I."
The cellars under Philadelphia's
new City Hall are the largest in A
merica, their area being acres.
The first cellar is thirteen feet deep,
and the cellar under that is of like
depth.