Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, June 10, 1886, Image 1

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    The Millkeim Journal,
PUBLTSfIEI) EVERY THURSDAY BY
I\. K. BU^TIiLE^.
Office in the New .Journal Building,
Peun St.,near Hartnian's foundry.
SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,
OR $1.26 IF NOT PA|D IN ADVANCE.
Aceestable Correspondence Solicited
Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL.
B USTJVB S S D
HARTER,
Auctioneer,
MILLHKIM, PA.
B. STOVER, "
Auctioneer,
Madisonburg, Pa.
•yyr II.REIFSNYDKR.
Auctioneer,
MILLIIEIM, PA.
JYT. J. W. ST AM,
- Physician & Surgeon
Office on i'enu Street.
MILLIIEIM, PA.
JQR. JOHN F. H ARTELL,
Practical Dentist,
Office opposite Ithe Methodist Church.
MAIN STREET, MILLIIEIM PA.
GEO. L. LEE,
Physician & Surgeon,
MADISONBURG, PA.
Office opposite the Public School House.
p. ARD, M. D.,
WOODWARD, PA
O. DEININGEK,
Notary-Public,
Journal office, Penn st., Millheim, Pa.
AS"Deeds and other legal papers written and
acknowledged at moderate charges.
TjTT J- SPRINGER,
Fashionable Barber,
Havinq had many years 1 of experiencee
the public can expect the best work and
most modern accommodations.
Shop opposite Millheim Banking House
MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA.
L. SPRINGER,
Fashionable Barber,
Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor,
Millheim, Pa.
Shaving, Haircutting, Sharapooning,
Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac
tory manner.
Jno.H. Orris. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orvis
QRVIS, BOWER & OR VIS,
AUorneys-al-Law.
BELLEFONTE, PA.,
Office In Woodings Building.
D. H. Hastings. W. F. Reeder.
JJASTIN6S & REEDER,
Attorney s-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of
the office ocupiod by the late firm of Yocum &
Hastings.
J C. MEYER,
AMorney-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE PA.
At the Office of Ex-Judge Hov.
C. HEINLE,
Attorney-at-law
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Practices in all the courts of Centre county
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
i n German or English. %
J A.Beaver. J.W.Gephart.
JgEAVER & GEPHART,
Attorneys-at-Law,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street
JGROCKERHOFF HOUSE,
ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA.
C. G. McMILLEN,
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free
Buss to and from all trains. Special rates to
witnesses and jurors.
QUMMINS HOUSE,
BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA.,
EMANUEL BROWN,
PROPRIETOR
House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev
erything done to make guests comfortable.
Ratesiuodera'" trouage respectfully solici
ted 5-h
■JRVIN HOUSE,
(MostCeutral Hotel in tbe city.)
CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS
LOCK HAVEN, PA.
S.WOODS"CALDWELL
PROPRIETOR.
Good sameple rooms for commercial Travel
ers.on first floor.
R A. BUMILLER, Editor.
VOL. 00.
81 [OUT OF C.VSII.
[Luke Sharp in Detroit Free Press.]
Pnilip Gilbert 11 immortot. says :
'Let me observe, to begin with, that
although the puisuit of wealth is not
favoralilo to the i tolled ml life, the
nnconvenienc.es of poverty are ev\ n
less favorable to it '
Let mc obsarve to liegin with, right
you aie P. G.; light you are.
One Sunday in Lmdon, it sliuck me
that it wouldn't be a bad idea to go
down to the office on the Strand and
finish up some c.oi respondence that was
long oyer due. I would be assisted by
the quiet and freedom from interrup
tion that I was certain of on that day,
so about 11 o'clock I went to the I lam
mersmith railway station and found it
closed. The London railways are in
the habit of closingdown during church
time, although they run enough trains
the rest of the day to make up for this
spasm of Sunday observance. I bad
forgotten this freak on the part of the
railway people, and so took a 'bus in
stead.
If that railway station had been open
ed this would not have been written,
for the price of a return ticket was
more than the amount I had in my
pocket. I would have remembered
that I had left my purse in the pocket
I wore on week days, and would have
gone back for it.
Now, a seat beside the driver on a
Hammersmith 'bus o.i a fine morning
is something not to be despised. You
go along through Kensington and past
Hyde Park and into Piccadilly, and so
to Charing Cross and the city. It is a
bout as interesting an hour's ride as
you can wish to have.
'Where for, sir ¥'
•Charing Cross.'
'Sixpence, please.'
'Sixpence it is,' and I dived down in
to my pocket and up came the nimble
sixpence. That reticent coin,however,
never told me that all that it left there
was just two pennies ana one half-Den
ny. After.the silver piece had passed
into the hands of the 'bus conductor
we rolled merrily along and I had no
idea that I would soon be called to face
the pangs of direst poverty.
I wrote away io the office until the
bells tolled 2, and feeling the necessity
for a square meal, I went into a cafe
that was generally crowded on week
days,but was almost empty on Sunday.
I don't know why I ordered such a
sumptuous dinner— probably because I
felt a certain satisfaction at having c
--complished some work that should
have been done long before —but, be
that as it may—l ordered a "blow-tlie
expense" dinner, aud only felt sorry I
had no genial friend with me to share
it.
When the waiter brought me the bill
I glanced at it and put my h'and down
the trouser pocket, on the right. Net
result, 2£p. 1 searched all my pockets
in the vain hope that they might yield
the unexpected cash that a careless
man leaves around his clothes. Net
result—same old tuppence ha'penny.
'Waiter,would you have the kindness
to ask the proprietor to step this way?'
'Proprietor, sir V Yes sir, certainly,
sir. Nothing wrong I 'ope, sir ?'
'Nothing whatever. Merely wish to
express my gratification.'
The proprietor came up smiling and
rubbing his hands one over the other.
Now I puticulaily distrust a man who
smiles and rubs his hands, and I said
to myself 'l'm going to have trouble
with this man.'
'Good alternoon. I wanted to say to
you that rarely have I enjoyed a dinner
as well as the one I have just finished.'
'I am very glad you are satisfied, sir.
We try to please our customers, sir.
Hope you will come again, sir.'
'As things look at present I rather
think I'll hare to. But what I wanted
to see you particularly for was—l hope
I'm not detaining you too long ?'
'Oh, not at all, sir—not ac all. Sun
day's a yery light day with us, sir.'
'Then that's all right. WeM, as I
was saying, I thought I'd try a chest
nut on you if you had the time.'
'A chestnut, sir ?'
'Yes,in Ameiici we call an old story
or an old joke a chestnut. Whenever
an enemy gets off what he thinks is a
good joke, we simply remark 'chestnut,'
and that crushes him.'
'Ah, I see sir ; very good sit.*
'Well, this chestnut you've perhaps
heard before. Everybody lias in Amer
ica. A fellow put up at a first-class
hotel, ordered a fine dinner and the
best of wine. Having dined exceeding
ly well he called for tin landlord.
'Landlord,'he said, 'I suppose lots of
dead beats come to your house ?'
'Well, a few.'
'What do you d) when a man Iras no
money—is a deat beat, in fact V
'Do ¥ Why I k'ck him out.'
'At this the guest rose, went to the
door, and looking over his shoulder at
the landlord, said :
'Kick.'
MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 10., 1880.
'lt was a few moments befoie the
landlord eom|ueheiuled that the fellow
had no money, hut when the fact, was
clear he vig<mu!-l> kicked him into the
middle f the street.'
'Very good,' ciirdthe isfeproptic
tor. 'Very irood i: deed. I never beard
thiil stoiy before.'
•t)., that's not all the story,
month.* after the folio .v appeared at the
s.iiiu hotel.'
'D-m't you remember kicking me
out V'tie said to the lan Hud. 'Well,
that's all right. 1 don't bear any
giudge. Made SIOO,O X) since then.
Come,yon shall dine with me this time.
I dined at your expense last time.'
'So they hud a grand dinner nud the
best champagne in Iho house The
landlord apologized several times for
his lormer rudeness, but the trayeler
insisted he did just right—would have
done the same himself under the cir
cumstances. Finally, as the last bottle
was drained, he said to the landlord :
'Hope you enjoyed your dinner.'
'Oh, immensely.'
'All right, then. Kick again.'
'That's the end. Beat him twice,
you see. Now,that's where ho had lhe
advantage of me. I have merely got
ahead of you to the extent of one din
ner.'
'How's that, sir.'
'What do you do with a fellow who
can't pay V
'Give him in charge of the police,'
said-the proprietor, eying me severely.
The chestnut was beginning to work
on him.
'Then he has to do any kicking that's
done himself. Well, I haven't the
money lo pay for this meal. Will you
trust me until this time to morrow ¥'
I expected there would bo a fus.*, but
there wasn't. 1 presume the native
honesty stamped indelibly on my face
told him lie would lose nothing. I felt
veiy grateful to him and we had a glass
of champagne on it on Monday.
I went back to the oflice and worked
till nightfall. I had dined so well that
I thought I would never be hungry a
gain, but when I got out into the cool
night air I found that I needed a lunch.
I wanted to keep a pem.y so that if the
railway clerk refused me credit for a
Hammersmith ticket I could buy a
third-class ticket—and at least get on
the train. So my available resources
were three half-pence. It surprised me
lo learn that I could make a good meal
on that sum. There was a shop in the
window of which sizzled a great num
ber of sausages over a gas stove. I
went in and made inquiries. I found
that for three half-pence I could have
sausage and mashed potatoes or fried
fish and mashed potatoes. I was not
hungry enough to risk my precious life
on cheap sausages,so I took the fish in
stead. Both fish and potatoes were ex
cellent.
The next thing was to 'beat' my way
back to Hammersmith. I asked for
credit at the ticket window, and was
politely and with reasonable firmness
refused. I somehow received the im
pression that it was not by giving
credit the District Railway paid its div
idends. I stepped back, and waited a
few moments, joined the procession at
the window, and when once more in
front of the clerk I slammed down my
penny, saying :
'Westminster. Third. Single.'
With equal promptness the ticket
was thrust me and with it I passed the
barrier, and so got on the Hammer
smith train.
I entered a first-class carriage with a
third-class penny ticket in my pocket.
I had three fellow-passengers. As it
was Sunday night the chances were
that no ticket inspector would trouble
us. If he did, I felt that I was lost.
There was a white card in my pocket.
First-class tickets on the underground
are white. I resolved to take another
step in crime, so I tore a bit of the
white card to about the siz-i of a return
half of a ticket. This I put in my vest
pocket—for emergencies.
Sure enough, at Victoria Station a
polite inspector swung himself into our
compartment.
'Tickets, gentlemen, if you please.'
Four thumbs and four fingers went
indolently down into four yest-pockets
and brought up four bits of white pa
per.
'Thank you, gentlemen.'
The door banged shut. The country
was saved. I would here like to call
the attention of any young man desir
ous of getting on and prospering in a
career of villiauy and decej tion, to the
advisability of acting as near as possi
ble like the honest act under similar
circumstances. I pulled out the bit of
bogus pasteboard in just tho same man
ner I had hundreds of times showed
genuine tickets—neither delaying or
hurrying. If I had pretended to be
asleep or to have lost my ticket or tiled
any such ruse I would at once have a
roused the man's suspicion*, and once
that was done the game would he up.
Until a false move was made on my
part, the inspector performed his duties
A l'AI'IOl! FOR TUB IIO.MB CIRC LB.
with u cert ii i utibvivptones*, it' 1nnt)i t)
so term it. Tii LSO of you who expect
to reach Newgate -to pl.igi.uiz* my
fi iei.d Ait em ll* Waul —will son the
phi It is >}ihy tf l bin.
To the ticket taker at Hammersmith
I said :
'I have travt led from Charing Grow*
here. I have no ticket exc pi Mm pen
ny one that let roe on the train. Mow
much do I owe you
lie named the sum—nine pence, 1
think.
'I have no money. If you send a
porter with me to my rooms I will pay
the fare and also make it rquare with
him.'
The porter came along wi'h mc, and
so ended my day of poverty.
Thus it ia that I agree with Mr.
Ilammerton—that the inconveniences
of poverty are not exactly favorable to
intellectual life.
A Peninsula
The remnants of ha'f-forgotten stud
ies are sometimes brought to light in a
strangely dilapidated condition. St) it
proved in the following dialogue over
heard at a country railway station. The
speakers were father and son, tho hit
ter a middle-aged man.
It seems that the father had been vis
iting an adjoining town, and, having
there heard loud praises of Florida as a
residence, was wildly enthusiastic over
the advantages to be gained in moving
South. The son, more cautious than
the older man, was inclined to scoff at
the credulity of the latter.
'Why, the circulars say there ain't
no sich place anywhere !' declared the
father, his words almost stumbling
over one another in their eagerness to
escape.
•Circulars! a pissle o' lies !' said the
son, deftly piling milk-cans in his wa
gon, 'you don't mean to swaller every
thing that's printed, do you ?'
'Well, but they say if you buy a lot
of orange trees that's pooty well aloi.g,
you can set right down side of 'em an'
fold your arms, an' they'll make your
fortune quicker'n no time.'
'A heap they will ! Look here, dad,
you clear the stones out o' the four
acre lot, and plant 'lnters there, an'
you'll be belter on't than if you had a
million orange trees 1'
'An' the climate! the air's as clear—'
'Clear where 'taint all thick with
skeeters big as your thumb, an' grass
hoppers like wharf- rats !'
'The sea-coast ain't many miles a
way from any p'int,as I take it, an' the
mountains—'
Th's was too much. The young
man's long-unused knowledge of geog
raphy came to his rescue; he had found
a flaw which could not fail in proving
the vaunted circulars false.
'Mountains !' he cried,triumphantly.
'Mountains I Why, man, Florida's a
peninsula !'
The father said no more, but it was
evident that his disappointment in find
ing his castle shattered was tempered
by his pride in his son's superior knowl
edge.
Eating Before Sleeping.
Among the novelties suggested by
certain physicians is a recommendation
to eat before retiring at night. At
first the sleep will be heavy and the
dreams disturbed ; but eventually, it is
claimed, a full stomach will cause
drowsiness and the food will digest bet
ter. The blood, it is argued, being
drawn to the stomach, incites to slum
ber, because the pressure upon the
brain is thereby relieved. Actors, it
is said, eat heartily after a performance
and find it advantageous to do so. Our
English progenitors, in a past genera
tion, partook of late and hearty sup
pers, and lived quite as long as their
descendants. Lite dinners are still the
custom in England, and then in hot
countries it is always the custom to
tske a siesta after a heavy midday meal.
Animals generally sleep after eating.
It is doubtful, howyer, if these
theories will succeed in changing the
habits of the American people. Out
sids of the large cities, the midday
meal is the principal one, aud the sup
per, or tea,is partaken of several hours
before retiring. Man is a creature of
habit,and he had better follow the ens
toms of a lifetime. Still, it is probably
true that persons suffering from indi
gestion would advantage themselves if
they could take a nap after a heavy
meal.
'You ought to have your baby bap
tized 'Rastus,' said a member of the
church to a colored father.'
'Yes, sail, but I can not afford de
cost.'
'lt doesen't cost anything.'
'I know it doesn't cost nuthin' fo'
de mere act of baptism, sah ; but yo'
see I owe de minister two dollars for
perfo'min' de weddin' cer'mony a
yeah ago, an' he mought object, sah,
to baptizin' a baby that hadn't been
paid fo\'
BOX OR COX.
The Brunswick Hotel is no more
the Water Olli-e than the High
School building is the City Hull, but
there are people who are determined
not to understand this. An average
of half a dozen par day walk into the
ofiieo of the hotel, plank their uioney
down on the counter and call out :
'] want to pay tho water tax on
No. 254 Blank street.'
When the affable clerks inform
them that they have made a mistake,
which is enly what an affable clerk
should do there is a feeling on the
part of these people that they have
somehow been abused,and they go off
mad.
Two or three weeks ago a very
stem-faced man,carrying himself very
rigidly, entered the hotel, rapped on
the counter with his knuckles, and
icily observed :
'l'll never pay it—never !'
'What ?' asked Clerk Brown
'That infernal water tax ! You can
sue and be hanged !'
'This is uot tho Water Office.'
'lt isn't ?'
'No, sir; you'll have to go down
four doors*'
'But if this is not the Water Office
what do you have the sign up for V
'Wo have no such sign.'
'Well, it looks like the place.*'
• 'Not at all, sir. Please call four
doors below.'
'l'll be durned if I do ! Why didn't
you tell me when I first came in that
this was a hotel ?'
'I supposed you knew it.'
'Oh, well, perhaps you will make
some thing by this and perhaps you
Won't.'
A week later tho stern faced man
entered the Water Office one morning,
reached his hand through the window
to one of tho clerks, and said :
'Shako, old boy, I was out of tem
per that moruing, aud have been very
sorry for it. Odd wasn't it, that I
came into this hotel instead of the
Water Office ? You treated mc like
a gentleman, aud I beg your par
don !'
'I—I don't understand,' replied the
clerk.
'Why, I came into this hotel one
morning not long ago, aud '
'But this is no hotel. This is the
Water Office.'
'But why don't you put up a
sign ?'
'There's one at the door, sir ?'
'And where's the hotel ?'
'Please call four doors above.'
'I won' do it! No, sir—never.
Sec you hung first! Good morning
sir—neyer will I pay that infernal
tax if I die for it!'— Detroit Free
Press.
Gold from a Kitchen Stove.
'I know a man,' said a cable car pas
senger, 'who came to Chicago three
years ago when he was just of age,with
out a dollar. lie hired out tu a butch
er and deliyered meat from a basket
which he carried on his shoulder. It
was hard work, ard the young country
man didn't get fat on it. but he kept
his eyes open and resolved to improve
tbe first opportunity to better his con
dition. As butcher boy ho went much
into alleys and back yards, and there
noticed that the ash piles which came
from the house stoves had a good deal
of coal in them. lie bought a hand
cart with his savings, resigned from
the butcher shop, and went around and
made arrangements with house holders
to draw their ashes away. Ilis charges
were surprisingly low, and by hard
work he managed to earn a dollar and
a half in this way. But this was only
half his earnings. lie rigged up a
sieve through which he screened all the
ashes lie hauled, and the coal thus se
cured was worth about a dollar and a
half more. He then went into the bus
iness on a larger scale, hiring laborers
and furnishing tliern carls and ligging
up a large screen where load after load
could be dumped. He has boys to pick
out the cinders and clinkers aud wag
ons to haul the coal away and sell it.
He now hauls unsifted ashes away for
nothing, but charges for removing sift
ed ashes. A good many people who
used to sift their ashes don't do it now,
saving themselves the trouble and get
ting the refnse hauled away for noth
ing. That butcher boy is making a
! bout $3,000 a year.'
A Western man applied for a pension
on the ground that he was badly injur
ed by a Confederate "ram" during the
war. Investigation showed that lie
was a sutler in tbe army, and while out
on a foraging expedition with some of
the boys, was painfully butted through
a fence uy an old sheep of the male per
suasion, the property of a Confederate
officer.
Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance.
M irryitig Under Difflsulti J3.
James Sp-toney, vulgtrly c tiled ly
his neighboring S;o toy Jim, wis the
sou of a well-to-do farm's* in the s'ate
of P . At the limn he is intro
duced to the reader he is in his twenty
eighth year. lie had never .been very
far from home, eon: t queitlly had seen
very little of the wot Id. lie was an in
dustrious, haimlefs young man. whose
fortune could never Is* in ule by his
beauty. lie was very tall, thin, and
remarkably awkward, with small, dull
looking blue eyes of so p tie a hue that
they looked as if the color was faded
out, abundant red hair. Hoi id compltx
ion,and large, course features.
lloweyer, there is no accounting for
taste, for Jemima Jenkins, the daugh
ter of an adjoining farmer, declared he
was 'jist the handsumist man she ever
cast eyes upon.'
Now, James had a great admiration
for the young damsel, who in her per
sonal appearance was as little favored
as himself. She was a stout, tow-head
ed girl, with a freckled skin, which
looked as if the flies had been sporting
with it. The ill natured in tiie neigh
borhood who knew of their courtship
earnestly hoped they might come to
gether in matrimony, arguing that it
would be a pity to spoil a good-looking
couple with either.
One bi iglit, sunny Sabbath afternoon
in mid summer, as Jim was lying upon
the grass in front of the door of his
father's house planning tor the future,
one of the flrst thing? that occurred to
him was that he should get married.
'Dad's sot on it,' he thought, 'and so
is mam, and I ort tu try and please 'era
—it's time. I could rent old Jake
Spangler's farm, and the money I've
got "niter the bank 'ill stock it, and
Mitnie's daddy he'll furnish the house
like he did fur Mat Bunn, who married
her sister Sally Ann. I think I'll jist
go over to old Jenkins' and ask her—
there's nothin' like stritcia' while the
iron's hot.'
Suiting the action to the word he
sprang up and started for the house,
and neatly attired himself, putting
some extra touches to his toilet before
starting on his important mission. lie
looked decidedly gay when he had at
tired himself in his long grey linen
coat, briglittred waistcoat, straw hat,
with a blue ribbon around it, short,
yery wide, linen pants, and large heavy
shoes. lie made fast time as he cross
ed his father's farm, jumping fences
and ditches until he found himself up
on 'Squire Jenkins' land. As he near
ed the house he beheld his divinity sit
ting upon a giassy mound, beneath a
large willow tree, so ne little distance
from the house.
fc 'o ! glorious opportunity,' thought
Jim. 'I kin jist settle the matter now,
makin' short work on it.'
As he approached he felt a slight
trembling of the limbs, a nervous sen
sation, but he made up his rniud that
he was not going to be frightened from
his purpose.
'A gal kin only no, to du her
wust, and there's pleuty on 'em if she
dus. They are jist as thick as black
berries—l kin git another if she's con
trary.',
Summoning up his courage he shout
ed *
'Hallo, Mimie I be it you ? How
does yer be ?'
'Fust rate, Jim ! how be yer ? lam
glad yer come, fur I'ye been lookin' for
yer.'
'The purtty crittur, she's jist a bust
in' with luv' fur me !' soliloquized the
lover.
'ls yer dog tied up, Mimie ?' asked
Jim,'fur I'm afeard uv that cuss,' look
ing nervously around. ' 'Tother night
as Bill Jones an' me was going home
from here, he takes arter us. Bill he's
purtty spry, he lias sich big feet he kin
git oyer ground very handy, but jist as
he went to jump over the horse-trough,
he tripped, and in he goos. He holler
ed tu me fur help, but, laws ! I jist
keeps clear out of his way, when the
tarnal critter leaves Bill and makes fur
me, aud hangs on tu my coat tail with
sich a grip that when I managed to
shake him off he had the whole uv my
new coat tail inter his big
jaws! Bill he jist stood and laughed
lit to split hisself. He wus mad cause
he got a duckin'.'
'Sakes alive! yer might haye bin
kilt,' said Jemima. 'l'll coax dad to
shoot him.'
'Mima,' said Jim, anxious to proceed
to business, whilst his face became as
red as a beet, 'I want tu ask yer some
thin' pertikilar. Yer kin either say
yes or no, but uv course I'd sooner it
was yes. Dad wants me tu git married
and so does mam, and I reckon you'd
do jist as well as any one else, so I [jist
thought I'd ask yer.'
Jemima simpered and hung her head
—at last she said :
'There's Lydia Ann Blinker yer
could git.'
'Won't have her—'cause she's lame.'
'Well, Sally Jane Grubb—how du yer
like her ?'
'She won't do,cause she talks through
her nose.'
There's lluthie Simpkins, won't she
suit yer ?'
'No, she won't now, cause she's Wind
in one eye.'
NO. 23
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al insertion
'Yer jist tu i>ettiekaieer, Jim !' said
Mima, delighted to think P.c preferred
her to all others. 'I won't praise an
other gal tu yer. Yu don't want tu
get quarried anyhow. What'a the use
of yer foolin' V
'Did thecal mean to .my no ? Lor,
women wits so queer,' he soliloquized#
and hacked off, alarmed at Mimie's
manner, knocking, as he did so, against
and upsetting a hornet's ntst, which so
enraged the inmates that they made a
grand attack upon him.
'Oh, Jemima ! Jemima ! Jem ! take
'em off; oh, biases, oh !' and before she
could realize the situation, he rushed
by like a Hying machine, beating his
liinhs with his straw hat, his red hair
blazing iu the sunlight.
There was no time for love or ro
mance with poor Jim now—the situa
tion was practical.
'Bless my stars !' cried the terrified
Jemima, 'Jim Spooney has jist gone
mad. Stop, Jim,stop,for the land sake,
stop !'
Not knowing what course to pursue,
she stood looking in dismay after her
swiftly departing lover. As he at
tempted to cross a creek he fell in, and
some of his vicious enemies found a
watery grave. Others angrily clung to
him. As he mounted a fence, and was
about clearing it, an unmannerly bull
(doubtless attracted hv his red waist
coat), gaye him a toss with his horns
sending him far into the meadow be
yond. This last shot through the air,
rocket-like, was the fltial view .Jemima
had of her lover.
There poor Jamee lay for some time,
smarting with pain, anger and disap
pointment. When he reached home,
although rid of his enemies, they had
left their traces behind them. His
head was swelled to twice its size, one
eye was entirely closed, whilst his lips
were a sight to behold.
Til not let Miraie go. l'l' hang on
though if she should die 1 would'nt try
agin t3 git another gal. It's too much
bother, but I'll be spunky this yer time,
see if I don't.'
'Yer jist right, Jimmy,' said his fond
mother, to whom these confidential re
marks were made, looking woefully at
her spectacle of a son. 'Never give up.
Yer dad didn't when he came a court
iu' me, I tell yer. I jist had to marry
him to git shut uv him. The next time
you go to see Mimie, don't go ashame d
like through the back yard, but go to
the fron uv their house like a man, and
as fur the gal that's the way big folks
do.'
So the next time he took his mother's
advice, and arranged matteisso satis
factorily with Jemima that it is re
ported they are to be married in the au
lumu by 'Squire Bellows.
He took her to a neighboring town
to a circus a short time ago, and they
were seen indulging in spruce beer and
eating ice-cream out of the same dish
in a loving manner.
They looked very happy as they walk
ed through the main street hand in
hand—and in view of these extravagan
ces, the report of their approaching
bliss is probably correct, and Miss Jen
kins will be Mrs. Spooney.
Mr. Gould's Manner of Exer
cising.
They tell a story in his office about
Mr. Gould's resolving, on the advice
of his physician two years ago, to
exercise.
'I don't wish yon to exercise vio
lently," said the doctor ; all you
need to do is to practice mild calisth
enics an hour every day.'
•All right,' said Gould ; 'show me
exactly what to' do.'
Thereupon the medical man in
structed the millionaire in a variety of
movements, such as flexing and ex
tend the arms and legs, inflating the
lungs slowly excluding the air. beat
ing the chest with the hands, and
bending the body sideways and back
ward. Next day, when his brokerage
partners, Connor and Morosini, look
ed into his private office, where he
sat at his desk reading letters from
the morning's mail, they were as
tounded at the sight. Gould was go
ing through a series ot contortions
that indicated nothing less than rav
ing madness. His eyes were on the
manuscript of a long epistle, and he
seemed intently perus ing it; but his
puny physique was undergoing the
strangest motion—his arm 9 and legs
extending one after another in all di
rections, and his body doing more
genuflections than were ever conceiv
ed of a ritualist. Was he having a
fit ? No ; his calm face indicated no
agony or illness. Had he gone
crazy ? That was likely, the two
partners thought.
"What is the matter, Mr. Gould f'
said Conner, approaching rather cau
tiously.
'ls there something bad in that let
ter ?' said.Morosini.
•No, no,' replied Gould, setting au
arm revolving like a \frbeel with one
spoke and no rim ; 'l'm exercising
1 without loss of time.'