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The Millheim Journal,
PUBLISHED EVERY THURBDAY BY
R. A. BUMILLER.
Office in the New Journal Building,
Penn St., near Hartman's foundry.
SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,
OR $1.25 IF NOT PAID IN ADVANCE.
Acceptable Correspondence Solicited
Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL.
# MILLHEIM, PA.
Y ~8. STOVER,
JJR. JOHN F. HAUTER,
Office opposite the Methodist Church.
MAIN STREET, MILLIIEIM PA.
jyt D. 11. MINGLE,
Physician & Surgeon
Offilco on Mailt Street.
JTJR. GEO. L. LEE,
Physician & Surgeon,
Offlce opposite the Public School House.
GEO. S. FRANK,
Physician & Surgeon,
Office opposite the hotel. Professional calls
promptly answered at all hours.
J)R. W. P. ARD,
Physician & Surgeon,
Journal office, Penn st., Millheim, Pa.
Deeds and other legal papers written and
acknowledged at moderate charges.
Havinq had many yean' of experience.
the public can expect the best work <ind
most modern accommodations.
Shop 2 doors west Millheim Banking House,
MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA.
Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor,
Shaving, Haircutting, Sbampooning,
Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac
Jno.H. Orvis. C. M. Bower. EllislL.Orvts.
QRVIS, BOWER & ORVIS,
Office in Wood in gs Bnildlng.
D: H. Hastings. W. F. Reeder
jjASTINGS & REEDER,
Offlce on Allegheny Btreet, two doors east of
the offlce ocupied by tbe late Arm of Yocum A
At the Offlce of Ex-Judge Hoy.
Practices in all the courts of Centre county
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
in German or English.
k A. Bearer. 1 " 7 "" J. W. Gepbart.
"JGEAVER & GEPRART,
Office on Alleghany Street. North of HighStree
ALLEGHENY ST., BELLKFONTE, PA.
0, G. McMILLEN,
Good Samu'e Room on First Floor. Free
Buss to and from all traius. Bpecial rates to
witnesses and jurors.
BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA.,
House newly refitted and
ervthing done to make guests Mmfortabie.
Rates moderate. Patronage respectfully solic^
R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
That is what I always call her to this
day, and in spite of all that's come and
gone, it's her true title, for I do believe
she was the prettiest creature I evor
laid eyes on.
And she was dressed with such ex.
quisite taste, too, it set off her dark
bright beauty so well, and sho was a
dainty, childlike little thing—why,even
Dick couldn't help acknowledging her
beauty though he didn't take to her
from the first.
But I thought him wrong in that,
much as I trusted to his judgment, for
you see, Dick—well, Dick Fraser and
my humble self have been betrothed
for several years, and next spring,after
Bessie marries, why, I am going to keep
house with Dick.
But that isn't my story.
When our dear parents died they left
Bessie and me this fine old-fashioned
home, a good supply of solid, old-fash
ioned furniture and silver and house
hold linen, a good old-fashioned ser
vant who had lived with us since Bess
was a baby, eighteen years ago, and
very littlj ready money.
So, as we could uot give up our
home, or be parted, we looked about us
for two or thiee good old-fashioned
boarders who would stay with us all
the year round and be able to pay well
for a good home.
i Well, we foand two, just what we
wanted ; Miss Burtou, an elderly
maiden lady, and Mrs. Wootton,a wid
ow lady, who were glad to escape from
the dust and noise of the city, and who
were well able to pay good prices for
our best rooms.
And this they did, only stipulating
that we should not take other board
ers, but all have a quiet home togeth
So we were just a houseful of women,
you see—not a man on the place, un
less we except Tom, the half grown boy
who milked the cow and teuded the
garden and drove our little carriage for
We had plenty of applications from
summer boarders but we never took
any until pretty Mrs. Graham came.
It was a melting hot day, when a car
liage brought her to ray front door,
with a lively, black eyed little maid,
aud she begged so hard to be taken for
just a month or two of the hottest
weather, ssying we looked so cool and
delightful out there, and she dreaded
the hotel so much, that it was hard to
Miss Burton was in the parlor when
she called, and she was so fascinated by
the little widow's loveliness and liveli
ness that she gave consent to her com
ing at once.
So then we consulted Mrs. Woottou
—you remember our agreement with
them made it necessary—and she, too,
was quite wou over* and so the result
was that we made pretty Mrs. Graham
an exception, and took her and her
lively little maid, Jeannette, into our
She took possession that very day,
coming down with three large trunks
from town. She professed herself de
lighted with our fine old home and
plentiful country fare, and she certain
ly delighted us with her beauty, and
her bewitching ways, and her lovely
toilettes, and her wonderful music.
For she made the keys of Bessie's piano
almost talk and as Bessie herself was
the only player among us, and she but
an indifferent one, such a musician
was a great treat.
Dick came down to take tea on Sun
day, as be generally did, (and then he
met our new boarder.•
After supper I asked him'if be did
not think her loyely.
"Yes, she is pretty—that can't be
denied," be said slowlv
"Well, what fault can you find ?" I
said, seeing be kept something back.
"None, perhaps ; but I don't like
her, and I wish you hadn't taken her,
Mary. I believe she is a little adven
turess, that's all."
"Why, Dick, her references were
unexceptionable, and she is a member
of St. John's church, and a teacher in
tbe Sabbath school."
"Is she ? Well I hope she is a good
0D6," said Dick dryly, and there the
*Sbe bad been with us about six
weeks, when one Saturday afternoon I
received from our business agent eight
hundred dollars, the proceed of the in
terest in a coal mine belonging to Bes
sie and me.
It wa3 too late to take it to the bank,
where our cash was deposited, and I,
being half unwilling to keep so much
money two nights in a lonely house full
of women, felt strongly inclined to go
over to the village and deposit it there
till Monday morning.
But, on second thought, I made up
my mind that was nonsense—the after
noon was warm, I was busy, and the
money would be safe enough in my own
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 11., 1885.
So 1 counted the notes to Le sure
they were right, locked them in a little j
casket, and locked them in my desk.
As I opened the door of my room to go
down-stairs, 1 met Jeannette, who said
she was just going to knock. Mr 9.
(1 rah am was going to walk over to the
village-could alio serve mo in any '
way V I thanked her, Slid I would bo
glad if she would call at the post-ofllee,
and went my way to see about tea.
The next morning wo all went to
church except our servant Emma, who
remaiusd at home to haye the dinuer
In the afternoon, Emma wished to
go out, and as I did not like the house
to remain quite alone, I remained at
home myself. Having a slight head
ache 1 lay down upon the sofa in the
cool pari ir and took a quiet nap. I
sprang up as soon as I was awakened,
and went up stairs to arrange my hair
meeting pretty Mrs. Graham coming
"I did noi kuow you were at home,"
"I have this moment come in and
taken off my hat," she said with a
sweet smile, "and I was comiug down
for a drink of ice water."
I heard her go into the parlor, where
she sat for a long time playing grand,
old church music, aud singing softly in
tones so sweet that it made me think
of heaveu aud angels' music.
Next morning as we were gathering
at the break fast-table. Miss Bui ton
came in, pale and frightened, saying
her room had been eu tered during the
night by a burglar, and her watch and
chain and all the valuable jewelry ta
We all sprang up in consternation,
and went to her room, where we found
the window which opened upon the
roof of a veranda partly raised and the
shutters pushed open as if surely indi
cating the way the burglar bad enter
Miss Burton had slept soundly and
heard nothing she said, but bad noticed
her window when she first woke, and
upon searching, found all her jewels
"We might all have been murdered '
in our beds 1" cried Mrs. Wootton,pale
and trembling, while pretty Mrs. Gra
ham fell to crying like a child, declar
ing she would not dare to stay another
night under a roof where there was no
man in the house.
"Did any of the rest lose any
thing ?" asked Bessie.
"I haven't noticed in my room,"
said Mrs. Wooton : "let us all go and
And to our rooms we went, I open
ing my bureau with a sinking heart.
It was as I feared—my casket, which
had only contained the money, was re
ally gone !
Some unaccountable impulse prompt
ed me to couceal my loss from the rest
when I joined them again, and I hard
ly noticed that Mrs. Graham stopped
crying and looked queerly at me when
I reported that my tilings were all
And then she fell to crying again,
saying hers were all right, too, but stie
never doubted that it would be her
turn next, and she dared uot stay there
Mrs. Wootton reported that every ar
ticle of jewelry and all the money she
had in her purse were gone, and Bessie
said the same.
Tliis was a serious case, and we were
at a loss what to do. I said I should
inform the village inspector and then
go up to town and consult Mr. Fraser
and a lawyer, and I begged them to do
nothing till I came back.
They all promised, but pretty Mrs.
Graham said I must come back before
night, for she knew she was a dreadful
little coward, but she must go over to
the village and stay at the hotel for a
few nights. She would only take Jean
nette and a little satchel, and when we
got all quiet once again she would come
I was not willing she should go, but
I thought she would get over her fright
by evening aud stay, so I only asked
her if I could do any errands In the
city for her.
She said no—then yes, if I would be
so kind I might stop at Welling's and
match a piece of lace for her—she
wanted five yards more and she gave
me the money to pay for it.
It seemed to me that trains went at
snails' paces that morniog, but at last
I was in Dick's office.
"Um—um-yes, to be sure J" said
Dick, stroking his mustache with a
thoughtful air. "Very bad, Mary !
Very bad indeed 1 And your pretty
little widow is the only one person who
wants to leave you say ?' ;
"Yes. And I don't want any one to
leave with such a stain on our house,
"You must by all means keep your
pretty little widow till I come down
with an officer and search her trunks."
I sprang to my feet.
"Why, Dick are you mad ?" I cried.
A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE.
"Neither mad nor deluded my dear
little woman," said Dick, coolly. "But
I have a little theory about this tiling,
Mary, and if you will let me work it
out. I may help you. Got errands to do
this morning ?"
I was too worried to attend to any
shopping for myself, but I remembered
Mrs. Graham's lace and answered
"Well, go and do it, and then come
back bore, will you ? I think I'll have
a plan perfected by that time."
I went to Welling's stopped at the
last counter, and held out the scrap
pretty Mrs. Graham had given me.
"Can you match this V" I asked of
the polite shopman who stepped up.
"I wish to purchase some more of it."
lie took the bit of lace, and I notic
ed a queer look come over his face. I
also saw two or three of the young men
draw near and eye me curiously, and I
began to feel embarrassed.
"I don't know," said the shopman,
slowly. "Mr. Jones, a3k Mr. Welling
to step this way."
The young man addressed hurried a
way, and in a moment the gentleman
named came up, which was a relief to
me, for I saw something was wrong,
and I knew him well, as he was au old
Iriend ot my father's.
"This is a had business, and requires
explanation.Miss Mary," he said. "A
week ago a lady exactly answering the
description you give of Mrs. Graham,
came here and bought twenty yards of
this same lace. After she was gone it
was discovered that the money she
paid was bad. We have been trying to
trace this lady ever since, but had not
the least clew till now. What do you
"I think," I tremblingly said, "that
I must tell you tbe bad business at our
house la9t night, which brought me to
So I told him my story, and then he
went with me to Dick's office. And
when I went home I knew all I had to
I told Mrs. Graham that I could not
find her any more of the lace, and re
turned her money.
As I had planned, Dick came by tbe
six o'clock train, and we wers all at tea
when Emma came in with the quiet
"Mr. Fraser is in the parlor,
I excused myself a moment, and has
tening to the parlor found Dick and a
We hurried quietly up-stairs—l was
so glad Jeannette was out of the way—
and into pretty Mrs. Graham's room.
One of her trunks was gone, but her
hat and shawl lay upon the bed, and
UDder the pillow we found her Russian
Mr. Detective made short work of
opening that bag, and lo ! he had no
need to look farther ! There we found
all Miss Burton's jewelry, all that be
longed to Bessie and Mrs. Wootton,
and my lost money, besides a bunch of
skeleton keys. And then his course
was plain, and before I hardly knew
what had happened, we had astonished
the group at the supper-table, and
pretty Mrs. Graham was a prisoner.
Afterward we found proof enough
that her work was done on Sunday af
ternoon, while I lay asleep in the par
lor, and tbe window opened at night by
her lively maid Jeanette, to throw sus
But we never heard any more eith
er of pretty Mrs. Graham or Jeannet
Both, no doubt, got their deserts, for
Mr. Welling presecuted, though I re
fused to do so.
btole the Corner Stone.
Passing through New Brunswick, a
few days ago on the Pennsylvania rail
road, a member of tbe assembly, gaziDg
off to a red clay bluff high oyer the ca
nal along the river bank, a mile or so
from tbe town, remarked: "Do you
see that big building, the Rutger theo
logical seminary, up there back of tbe
town ? Well, the corner stone of that
building is in the canal just under that
high bluff—at least it was tbe last time
I knew anything about it. It was back
in 1856 or 1857 and I was a graceless
young scamp, at Rutgers college.
There was lots of us g. y. s.'s in Rut
gers that year. The Theological semin
ary building foundations were just fin
ished,and they had made grand prepar
ations for laying the cornet stone, with
no end of speeches by big guns from
everywhere. The night before a lot of
us got an old pair of wheels, went up
there in the dark, mounted the corner
stone on the wheels and dragged it a
cross the country to the bluff, where
we dumped it over into the canal aud
went back to bed. There was a ruc
tion next morning, but it was of no use;
they bad to go on with their corner
stoue laying without any corner stone.
I They never found out what had be
| come of it, and the fun of it was they
j all laid it to "those rascally town
He Had Seen Mermaids.
'About mermaids,' said tbe captain,
as ho stood upon the unfinished end of
♦ lie seawall and surveyed the landlub
ber repoiter of the San Francisco Ca 11
with mi expression of pitiful condescen
sion. 'Why, I've see'd the most won
derful tilings in that line: Well, we
were over in the China sea. One night,
just after we'd past the Formosa group,
I was aroused out of my bunk by tbe
mate,who sings out 'Mermaids aboard!'
Out I jumps and gets on deck in a turn
of a helm. You can splice my mains'
if there wasn't 'bout twenty of the big
gest mermaids a floppin' around the
deck I ever seed. Two of 'em had got
the fellows on watch cornered and was
a kissen' 'em.
'The mate had took to the riggin' af
ter hailing me. I was a little s'prised,
though I had seen mermaids afore, but
never more'n one at a time. 'Ladies,'
said I, 'make yourselves at home,' and
you bet your hawsers they did. They
quit floppin,' and all got on tbe rail,side
by side, a Jioldin' their tails in their
hands and commenced to sing, and I
jest tell you they whooped things up.
They skipped through the 'Sweet By
and By'and took several ieefs in the
'Red, White aud Blue' and slewed to
port on a 'Life on the Ocean Wave' in
'Didn't see tliera again, did you ?'
asked a landlubber.
Well, yes. The next day we was be
calmed. There wasn't a smell of a
breeze, and whistlin' tor it didn't do
any good. I was madder'u a stuck
whale, for I wanted to make a quick
passage. Suddenly I sees a commotion
in the water, and, sliiyer my binnacle
lights, if them mermaids warn't swim
min' around us. One of 'em boarded
us as slick as could be and ses, 'Give
us a rope.' Well, I throwed 'em one*
and I'll lay to on a lee shore if they
didn't tow us till we struck a breeze.
Got the rope right in their mouths —
about fifty of 'em—and pulled us along.
I was so 'bleeged to 'em that I threw
'em a mass of looking-glasses, clocks
and shoe blacking out of the cargo.
'Next day we struck another calm
and I 'spected the mermaids would pull
us out again. They were all around a
dounin'their moinin' uniform in the
glasses. Hey !' says I, 'tow us along,
will you ?' Well, no sooner had I hail
ed 'em than every one of 'em looked at
the clocks which they bad slung around
their necks. 'Scuse us, cap,' they said,
•we see it's just time to keep our ap
pointment at the bottom,' and cuss me
if they didn't all disappear.'
The Biter Bit.
Gilhooly was'in a somewhat intoxi
cated condition. He came out of the
bar room at a late hour. He had suffi
cient intelligence, however, to know
what his condition was, so he conclud
ed to take a hack. As soon as he was
inside of the hack and was being driv
en towards his home it occurred to him
that be bad only five dollars in the
world, and that the sum had to last
him until the end of the month, there
fore, he could not afford to pay hack
hire. Slyly opening the door of the
back he jumped out without the coach
man haying observed liirn. lie wander
ed about $n foot for half an hour until
be found that be had lost his way. lie
was then compelled to hire a second
hack. As he had succeeded so well in
swindling the first hack driver, he con
cluded to try the same trick over again.
It succeeded,but unfortunately in jump
ing from the back he landed in a pile of
fresh mortar,out of which he had much
difficulty in extricating himself. After
wandering around for several hours in
the rain he at last found his way home.
On the floor he saw his fine black suit
utterly rained by the lime and water.
He seized his pants and got out his
pocketbook. lie counted his money,
and discovered that precisely two fares
'Now I understand how it happened,'
he exclaimed, 'I paid these two hack
drivers their money when 1 first got in
to their hacks, but I was too drunk to
remember. So in swindling two fares
out of the hack driyers I have swindled
myself out of that amount, and walked
home besides. The ruined clothes are
worth at least forty dollars.'
An American Fireside,
An American woman is lecturing
in England on marriage, domestic hab
its and kindred subjects. Her idea of
fireside bliss is illustrated by an ideal
picture of a cozy room with pretty
children and a cat and a dog playing a
bout. Enter to these the husband, tir
ed but happy. He throws himself into
an easy chair, in attitude of careless re
pose, which he completes by placing
his feet in his wife's lap. With their
usual guilelessness and faith in what
they are told concerning American af
fairs, the English who unfortunately
hear this lecture will henceforth stub-
DDrnly believe that all American hus
bands are in the habit of resting them#
selves with their feet in their wives'
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
Sugar by Eleotrioity.
An entirely new process for refining
sugar, electricity being the agent em
ployed,is one of the latest discoveries.
If the half that is claimed for it be
true, it i. also one of the most import
ant that lias been made in the lust
half of this century. The process is
said to be a dry one throughout, dis
pensing altogether with boiling and
the use of boneblack. It is claimed
that no syrup whatever is produced,
the wtole product being bard sugar of
nearly, if not quite, absolutely purity
—namely, 100 per cent, cane sugar,
per analysis. This result has been
obtained lrom the lowest grades, the
parcels treated'ranging all the way
from ten pounds to over a ton in
weight. The refined sugar is obtain
ed witbm four Lours from the time the
machinery* i set in motion, and the
process is continuous, the output of
fine sugar being kept up so long as
the raw material is fed in and the ma
chinery kept in motion. The cost of
the process is almost ridiculously low,
being set at not more than eighty cts,
per ton, with a guarantee that the loss
will not be greater than about one-half
of one per cent. The cost of the re
quisite machinery, including power
and aparatus needed to put the sugar
into barrels and the buildings requir
ed to inclose the works, is estimated to
he about $100,000; in England, for an
output of four thousand barrels every
Paid by the Private.
The Baltimore Sun revives the fol
lowing siory of Elias Howe,the invent
or of sewing machines :
At the outbreak of the war, when he
was a millionaire he enlisted as a pri
vate to show his patriotism and inde
pendence. Money grew scarce, and his
regiment,'which was sent South, was
left unpaid for three months. At the
end of that time Howe, in his private's
uniform, one day entered the office of
the quartermaster and asked when the
soldiers of the regiment were to be paid.
'I don't know,' replied the quarter
'Well, how much is owed them ?'
bland! v asked the private.
'What is that to you?' said the stored
keeper, with a look of surprise.
'Oh, nothing,' said Hove, noncha
lantly; 'if you'll figure out the amount
I'll give you my check for the whole
'Who are you ?' gasped the quarter
'Elias Howe, and my check is good
pay of the entire army.'
The quartermaster made out his bills
and Howe gave him the check for three
months' pay for his regiment. The
government afterward reimbursed him.
The Politest of Military Clerks.
•'When Grant was in Chicago, three
or four years ago," said an army offici
al, "he lounged about Sheridan's head
quarters a good deal. His son fc'red
was at that time on Sheridan's staff,
but was absent one day, and Grant
took his place at Fred's desk and look
ed after the business. A nervous,fidg
ety, irritable old fellow came in to in
quire for some paper that he had left
with Fred. When he stated his case
Graut took up the matter in a sympa
thetic way, and proceeded after the
manner of an oyer-aoxious clerk to
look the paper up. The document
could not be found, aud Grant, apolo
gizing, walked with the old gentleman
to the door. As I walked down the
stairs with the mollified visitor be
turned and asked : 'Who is that old
codger ? He is the politest clerk I ev
er saw at military headquarters. I
hope Sheridan will keep him.'l answer
ed quietly, 'That is Gen. Grant.' The
fidgety old gentleman, after staring at
me for a full minute, said, with con
siderable fervor, 'I will give you 50
cents if you will kick me down stairs."
His Love was Chilled.
'Love you 1' echoed the young man ;
why, I'd walk through fire to sit by
your side for ten minutes !'
'That's awfully nice. 1 wish pa lov
ed ma that way.'
'Doesn't he ?'
*Oh,no. She asked him at dinner for
a SSIOO camel's-hair shawl, and he made
'Why,he said tnat.with wheat touch
ing a dollar, and he a half million bush
els short on a delivery at eighty-seven
cents, she'd better be thinking of calico
at six cents a yard. Why, what ails
you, Augustus ?'
♦l—l—that is, I'ye got to meet a man
at sharp 3.Half a million bushels short,
eli ? Good-day, Miss Fairbanks.'
And he went off kicking himself for
not being in love with an ice dealer's
If subscribers order tlie disconttuuation of
newspapers, the punllshers may continue to
send ihein until H arrearages are paid.
if subscribers refuse or tieflect totake their
newspapers froln the ofhoeto w hidbtliey arc sent
they are held responsible until they hftvesettled
the bills at.d ordered them discontinued.
If subscribers move toother places without In
forming the publisher, and the newspapers are
sent to the former place, they are ros|>onblble.
C eaagg—. .1. .i i.
1 wk. 1 mo. I .linos. Bmos. 1 yea
I square # 2 (JO *4 W $5 00 $# 00 1800
U " 700 10 00 15 00 80 00 40 00
1 1000 15 00 | 2500 4500 7500
One inch makes a square. Administrators
and Executors' Notices #2JSO. Transient adver
tlsements and locals 10 cents per line for first
insertion and 5 cents per line tor each addition
A STRUGGLE WITH A OOW.
Unexpected Result of Sam's
Twisting the Calf's Tail.
The Cow Resents the Act with Dis
astrous Consequences to Her
There is nothing that demands states,
manship of a high order as much as the
driving of a cow with a young calf to
any particular place. Two Dallas col
ored men took a job of this character
yesterday,and although they gave the
matter their careful attention, the re
sult was very far from satisfactory to
anybody but the cow, who seemed to
enjoy it very much. Sam ana Bill were
to get a dollar to take the cow and calf
and put tbem in the yard of the owner,
Mr. Thomas Carlyle, who liyes at the
south end of Elm street. After trying
in vain to get the cow to understand in
which direction they preferred she
should go, Sam aud Bill called a cabi
net meeting, the following
campaign plan was agreed upon : Sam
was to take up the calf in bis arms and
go ahead, while Bill was to hold the
cow back by the rope which was fasten
ed to her horns.
'Ef she goes too fast,' said Bill, •I'll
jest hold her back.'
'And ef she don't follow fast enough,
I'll jest twist de calf's tail, and den she
will come right along,' said Sam.
Sam took up the calf and went ahead,
while Bill, in order to get a real good
hold, tied the rope around his wrist.
The procession proceeded slowly in the
desired direction,and would have reach
ed its destination in safety had not Sat
an tempted Bill to get off a joke
so he called out:
'Sam, jest twist dat ca'f's tail.'
Sam did so, and the calf bleated as if
itlwas opposed to an encore to the per
The old cow began to trot. So did
Sam, holding on to the calf as if he had
stolen it. Then the fan began. For
every once in a while the cow would
polish her horns m the ceiling of Sam's
pants. Bill could not get his hands oat
of the rope, and, as he had short legs,
he had hard work keeping up with the
procession, or rather in not letting go.
He ran so fast that the kinks in his
wool straightened out. Finally he
'Sam, ontwist dat calf's tail.'
Sam's legs moved so rapidly that they
looked like spokes of a buggy, bat he
'Look out dar, don't let go dat rope,
de cow's a gainin' on me.'
•Drap de calf, Sam,\ called poor Bill,
whose arm was coming out of its sock
et. 'Drap de calf, for I can't keep up
widdeeow. Go slow, or I'll turn de
cow loose on you,' which, however, was
more than he was able to do.
Bill made the next fifty yards on his
back, be still most unwillingly retained
his hold on the rope. Fortunately, the
cow overtook Sam, and in return for
his kindness in picking np the calf, she
picked him up on her horns and threw
him over into Mr. Carlyle's yard. Bill,
who was rather tired of chasing the
cow, thought he would climb over and
see what Sam was doing. She appear -
ed to understand his wishes in that di
rection, so she started on a run to lelp
him out, or rather in. She was a little
late, but he went about ten feet further
into the field than be would have done
without her assistance. There was
neither of them so badly hurt as they
were when old C&rlyle came and told
them that the contract was that they
should put the cow in the yard. In
stead of that, the cow had put them in
the yard, so the dollar belonged to him
self as the owner of the cow.
It is thought a lawsuit will grow out
of the matter.
A Man of Honor.
Colonel Griggleson, by the unhesitat
ing manner by which he has purchased
goods on credit, and by the hesitating
manner in which he has paid for them,
fails to occupy a place among the for
tunate class of men known as "good
The other day, just after the colonel
had ordered several articles to be sent
up to his house, the merchant of whom
he had just ordered the articles, said :
•Colonel, I would like the best in the
world to favor you, but I really can't
carry you any longer.'
'By the way, that reminds me of a
joke I heard in Washington last—'
•Never mind about Washington. I
can't afford to let you have the goods.
You owfr me a hundred and fifty dollar*—.
'My dear friend,' said the colonel,
lighting a cigar, 'do you suppose I can,
in justice to my honor, afford to pay a
man who refuses to trust me ? I may
be peculiar, but I can't help it. My
father was very much the same way.
Don't remember the old gentleman, do
you ? You would have liked him.
Wish you would send these things up
as soon as you can. Good morning I'
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