Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, March 24, 1887, Image 1

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    The Millheim .Journal,
Office in the New Journal Building,
Penn Sfc .BearHartman's foundry.
I I T r * I *
tejtaße Comspflence Solicited
Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL.
. U V
Madisonburg, Pa.
Practical Dentist,
Office opposite the Methodist Church.
Physician & Surgeon,
Office opposite the Public School House.
P. ARD, M. D.,
Journal office, Penn at., Millheim, Pa.
other legal papers written aud
acknowledged at moderate charges.
Fashionable Barber,
Shop opposite Millheim Banking House.
Shaving, Haircuttiug, Shampooning,
Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac
tory manner.
Jno.H. Orvis. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orvls
Office in Woodings Building.
D. H. Hastings. W. F. Keeder.
Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of
the office ocupied by the late firm of Yocum A
At the Office of Ex-Judge Hoy.
Practices in all the courts of Centre county
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
J A.Beaver. J. W. Gephart.
Attorneys- at- La w,
Office on Alleghany Street. North of Hieh Street
Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free
Buss to and from all traius. Special rates to
witnesses and jurors-
| • \ *
House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev
erything done to make guests comfortable.
Ratesmodera" tronage respectfully solici
ted #, ikijf - v s-iy
(Most Central Hotel in the city.)
Good sameple rooms forjoomnxerclal Travel
ers on first door.
R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
VOL. 61.
t R' (,rr pr tMe in mouth:
$ I I*ll I U ITIO a toujnie coatc<l white or covered
with a Lrowrn fur; \vin m the tack, udct, or joints—often
mistaken for Kheu-'utum ; tour toineh ; lowa of ap
petite! sometime* nausea and waterl>ra\h. or indigestion;
lander cv and a. id eructations; bowels alternately i ustive
and las . headache I loss of memory, with a painful sen
sation of having failed to do something whiih wight to
have lieen done : debility I low spirits; a thick, yellow
appearance of the skin and eyes; a dry .ougti; lever; rest
lessness ; the urine is scanty and high-coiurcd, and, if
allowed to stand, deposits a sediment.
Malaria, Dyxpepsla,
Constipation, Biliousness,
Wek Heartache, Janndlce,
Nausea, Colic,
Mental Depression, Bowel Complaints,
Etc., Etc., Etc.,
Is generally used in the South to arouse the Tor
pid Liver to a healthy action.
It acts without disturbance to the system, diet
or occupation. It regulates the Liver, and
causes tne bile to act as the purge. The excess of
bile being removed, a tonic effect is produced
and health is perfectly restored.
The Regulator is given with safety and the
happiest results to the most delicate infant.
For all diseases in which a laxative, altera
tive or purgative is needed it will give the
most perfect satisfaction. The Cheapest, Purest
and Best Family Medicine in the World !
See that you get the genuine, with the red Z
on front of Wrapper, prepared only by
'I don't think I should have taken
this house if I had known there was a
marble-yard so near,' said Mrs. Graf
ton fretfully. 'lt almost drives me
frantic to hear that man chip, chip,
chipping all day.'
'You can hardly call that a marble
yard, mamma,' Laura answered sooth
ingly, as she glanced across the way at
the solitary workman under a small
shed, where perhaps half-a-dozen blocks
of due white marble stood ready for
the chisel.
'I call it an aggravation. They said
it was a nice neighborhood. Well, it
may be, but I don't fancy watching a
man making tombstones all day.'
'ls that what he does V' asked Laura,
looking pensiyely at the workman over
the way.
He displayed a fine set of muscles,
a9 he stood with his flannel shirt open
and his sleeves rolled up, looking about
for a place to put a large new block of
marble. He was a tall man, close-hnit
and supple, with a good head and eyes
of great power.
Laura stood watching him, and won
dering how many times that little chis
el he held had chippe i out 'Sacred to
the Memory.' etc. The little shtd was
an aunex to a small one-story struc
*1 suppose he lives in there, poor
man !' she mused ; 'all alone, cutting
tombstones from one week's end to the
other. Oh, mamma !'
Her cry of dismay came from the
fact that the stonecutter over the way
had attempted to lirt a large block of
marble on to a small truck, and it was
too heavy foi him.
There was a great crashing thud,and
then he dropped to the ground, white
and insensible as the marble beside
'Oh, mamma,mamma !'cried Laura,
springing up, 'be has killed himself !'
She dashed downstairs and out at the
front door, over to the marble-yard,
where Mrs. Giaftou followed her at a
more leisurely pace.
The man was lying on the ground,
and a small stream of blood was ebbiug
from his lips.
Laura lifted his head and bade her
mother bring salt and water, while sho
summoned a little boy, who ran for the
doctor. ~ r < ■—-
'Stefano I' exclaimed the physician,
as he beut anxiously over the injured
man. 'This is too bad ! I was afiaid
it would come some day. How did it
happen ?'
'He was lifting one of those horrid
tombstones,' said Mrs. Grafton resent
fully, 'I should think those working
men would learn to be careful, when
they know that so much depends on
the preservation of their health. I
suppose'he has a wife and four or five
children to support 1'
"No, madame,' said the doctor with
a peculiar glance at the patient ; 'he is
a single man. That will do, miss,' he
said to Laura, who was helping two
volunteer aids to lift the injured man
on to an improvised litter. 'Take him
right into the house, please.'
Tbe.'house' proved to be one large
room, furnished for the most part with
pieces of marble, wrapped in drapery of
brown muslin. The floor was littered
with chips of marble and dust, while
the bare white walls were rudely mark
ed with charcoal outlines aud certain
abigious drawings, which Laura fan
cied were the beginnings of monuments
and other funeral stone-work.
There were, besides, a couch and
sotne chairs, a table and an extinct fire
The injured man was laid down on
the couch, and made comfortable with
pillows and covers, which Laura
brought over for him.
The doctor worked with him anx
iously till he opened his eyes and be
trayed signs of consciousness.
'You must not speak,' said the doc
tor waruiugly. 'Lie perfectly still and
put your hand on the place where the
pain is. Ah, is it there ? Not here ?
Are you sure there is no pain here ?
Good !'
He made a careful estimate of the
extent of the injury, and then called
Laura aside.
'lt is not so bad as 1 feared,' he said
confidentially ; 'but he must not be
moved on any account. Everything
depeuds on his being kept quiet. And
yet,' he added doubtfully, 'I don't see
how we can manage here.'
'I will take care of him,doctor,' Lau
ra said quickly, 'if that is what you
mean '
'Laura, my dear,' Interposed Mrs.
'Well mamma, we can't leave him
here to die !'
He must have friends somewhere.
They ought to be sent for.'
'I happen to know, madame,' observ
ed the doctor, 'that he is quite alone.
He is a foreigner—an Italian, I believe.
They call him Stefano.'
'I will stay with him,' Laura reiter
And stay she did, though Mrs. Graf
ton was scandalized by her uncalled
lor devotion.
As the man began to recover she
made him all manner of dainties,which
were set forth ou tempting china.
When she found that he cared to
read she scoured the library for books
that would please him, but failed to
tind what he liked, uutil on day he ask
ed for Petrarch, and Dante, and
'What are you thinking, signonna ?'
he asked one day, as she sat with one
of the great poets in her hand, after an
hour's readimr.
T was wondering,' she said hesita
tingly, 'why you ever chose to be a
marble-cutter ? 1 should have thought
some other trade would have suited
you better.'
'How, signoriua ?' he asked with a
peculiar smile.
'There is not much scope in tomb
stones or a love ef he beauti
ful. What are you laughing at ?' she
demanded, as he iudulged himself in a
merry outburst.
'I was laughing at the idea,' he said,
striving to regain his gravity. 'Yea.
it is a mean business, cutting tomb
'And I don't suppose it pays very
well ?' said Laura, doubtfully.
'No, not very well. When one is
sick and can't cut tombstones, he
might as well give up aud get one of
his own.'
This was uttered with such a sudden
accession of gloom, that Laura hasten
ed to say :
•Dou't get deßpondent,Stefano. You
will have some work just as soon as
you are well. My mother wants a
tombstone for my grandfathei's grave
—indeed, lam not quilej sure but it
will be a monument—and she has
promised to let you have the work.'
Tam much obliged, signorina,' he
said in a smothered yoice that, came
from behind his hand.
He coughed yigorously for several
minutes, and then he managed to say :
'How can I ever repay you for all
your kindness, Signoiitm Laura V Will
you let me teach you Italian when lam
well ? I should like that.'
When I/aura proposed this to her
mother. Mrs.Graiton was up in arms,
but Luuru hail Luir way. tuiL withstand
ing. and the lessons began.
T saw you out in the shed this morn
ing,' said Laura reproachfully, one day
when Stefan J had goue against the doc
or's orders.
'True ; but one must liye !' he an
swered with a fchrug. 'And there is
your grandfather's tombstone.'
'Never mind that. lie has waited
eighteen years for it, and he can wait
a little longer. You must take care of
yourself, Stofauo. It is not fair to me
for youlto overtax yourself.'
His face suddenly lighted with joy.
4 ls it possible that you care, siguori
na ?' he cried eagerly.
'I—I want to see you well. If you
get sick again, it will throw discredit
on me as a nurse. Ido wish you would
give up marble-cutting altogether.'
'One might if he had some inspira
tion,' he said in a low tone 'I could
giye up anything for you. If I thought
some day you would love me one-half
so well as 1 love you, I would do any
thing-make any sacrifice.'
'Stefano !' she cried indignantly.
'You forget yourself. You must not
talk like that to me.'
'Forgive me. I did not mean to of
fend you. One cannot help loying
what is good and beautiful, if one does
cut tombstones.'
'Oh, 1 never dreamed of this ?' cried
Laura, bursting into tears. 'You must
go away, and never come here agaiu.'
The next day he was out in the shed,
chipping marble again. Laura went
by and saw him.
'You ought not to do that, Stefano,'
she said reproachfully. 'You aie not
able '
'lt matters very little to me now
whether I live or die,' he said sadly.
'lf I did not hate cowards,l would soon
settle it.'
She went'home, and for some time
he did not even see her face.
Meauwhile lie went uu working, and
one twilight he threw himself down on
the couch in his work-room, tired out
in mind and body.
A9 tie lay there with his face in his
hands, a voice that,sounded to him like
the voice of an angel called :
'Stefano !'
It was Laura who came towards
him, holding other hands.
'Stefano,' she said, 'I did not know
that 1 loved you, but I have found it
out, aud I have come to tell you.'
He uttered a low cry and fell at her
"My angel !' he said, kissing the
hand she held out to him. 'Can it be
that you love me well enongii to be *
come the wife of a marble-cutter ?
'1 have,made up ray mind not to cure
about the tombstomes,' said Laura,
And Stefano caught her in his arms,
laughing gaily, radiant witli jov.
'My love,' he said, *the tombstones
existed only in youi fancy. Lan not a
mere marble-cutter, If you please !
My name is Stefano Michetti.'
'Michetti 1' Laura echoed. 'Stefano,
it cannot be that yon are the sculptor
of the famous has reliefs iu the Hall of .
Justice ?'
'Even so, signorina,' he sai l, laugh
ing. 'They who know me call me gen
erally nothing but Stefano.but my fam
ily uarae is Michetti. I rejoice that its
fame has reached you.'
'Oh, how could you deceive me ?'
she cried reproachfully.
'I never tried to. You jumped at a
conclusion, and I let you alone ;* first
because it amused me, and then be
cause I hoped to win your love, even in
the capacity of a pooi stone-cutter.
Laura am, the sculptor would not have
cared for the heart that was too proud
to bestow its treasures on the statuary.'
'1 could not resist you,' she murmur
ed, 'in any capacity.'
lie kissed her fondly, and then, glan
cing afouud the room, he said :
'This is my studio-my ateher— but
elsewhere I have a beautiful home,
where you shall reign as a queen I See,
my darling, here is my work !'
He drew aside the brown drapery,
and reveak'd the most exquisite panels
and fret-work,beautiful sculptured has.
reliefs iu Carrara maible, about which
the art-world was raving.
'But you need not cancel the order
for your grandfather's tombstone,'
said Stefano mischievously. 'I will ex
ecute that as I promised to.'
What Mrs. Grafton said when she
heard it all is a matter of small conse
sequence as long as she yielded her an
tipathies gracefully.
Laura was married very soon after
wards, and Stefano's fame still rises.
He has just mads a splendid stone
capital, embodying a frolic of cupids,
f<r which their own beautiful boy did
the posing.
A Bank Scene from Which the
Reader Can Draw a Whole
some Lesson.
Yesterday forenoon as two men who
had lived neighbors to eacii other on
High street for a year and walked down
town together a hand red times, met on
Gnswold street, one of thm remarked:
'Say, Green, drop into the bank with
me for a minute. I want to be identi
'Certainly, certainly,' replied Green,
and they entered the bank and walked
to the teller's window.
'You identify this man as Baker, do
you ?'
'Baker? Baker? Yes, I belieye that
is his name.'
'Do you know it to be ?'
'No—o, but I've heard it was. lie
lives next door to me.'
'How much of a family has he ?'
'lie's got a wife, anyhow, and I see
some children around.'
'What does he do ?'
'Let's see. He's got an office of some
sort down town here, but I can't say
what he does.'
'Will you positively as
Baker ?'
'Well—well—no, I guess not, I think
he is but lie may be Barker or Barkum,
or he may not be the one I think 1
know. Excuse me, Mr. Baker ; I'd be
glad to oblige you, you know, hut I
don't know you, you know.'— Detroit
Free Press.
One of the most forcible stump or
ators that ever took the field is the far
mer whose plow strikes a snag.
Bill Nye and Big Hats.
He Adds His Anathema to the
General Chorus.
Tolling How His View of a Dramat
ic Performance Waa Obscured
by Elongated Millinery.
The 'ate William Shakespeare once
wrote in an autograph album these
words :
All the world's a stage.
Sincerely your triend,
Perhaps he meant that there were
Ilies on it —but wo will not undertake
to enter this field of thought. However,
to speak in a more serious way, and
treating the subject in a more dignified
way, 1 will state that atter a number of
years' scrutiny of the world, I am con
yinced that the great bard used this ex
pression in a figurative sense only.
Could he pick up his pen to-day, he
would either erase the above line, or
add to it so that it would read :
'•All the world's a stage, end nobody
but the woman in the high hat can see
what is going ou upon it. Yours bit
terly, BILL."
It is not a new field, perhaps, this
discussion of the tall hat, but I desire
in my poor, weak way to add my testi
mony to the testimony of those who
have sat down on said hat. I feel of a
truth—occasionally—that this high hat
is making an old man out of me, and
drawing lines of care heie and there
over my fair, young face. Here at a
time of life when I ought to be in the
full fiusli and pride'.of manhood, I find
myself 110 longer able to build the fire
111 the morning, and my breath, which
was once as robust as the upas tree,now
comes in short pants.
The tall hat with a wad of timothy,
or a five-pound pompon at the apex
thereof, has brought this about. How
would a man look,wno might sit in the
bald headed row, wearing a joint of
stovepipe on his head, trimmed with
hay ? Has it not been the custom for
years to place bald-headed men on the
front row, because they offer no ob-,
struction to the vision.
And now, what do we see ?
We do not see anything 1
I will leave it to any disinterested
person to say whether I do not love and
admire women, whether aggregated or
sergregated. but sho does do some
tilings which as her friend and admirer
I deeply regret."
Not long ago I had the pleasure of
attending one of Mr. Booth's peiform
ances in which lie took the part of
Hamlet with great credit to himself, as
I afterward learned from a member of
the orchestra who saw the whole per
I paid a laige price a week before
hand for a seat at the Ilamlet perform
ance, because 1 had met Mr. Booth
once in the llockv Mountains and had
made a deep impression on him. I had
also told him that if lie ever happened
to be in a town where I was lecturing I
would dismiss my audience to come
and hear him, and lie might do as he
thought best about shutting up on the
following night to come and hear me.
Well, I noticed at first, when I went
in, that the row before me was unoccu
pied, and I gathered myself up iu a
strong manly embrace and hugged my
self with joy. The curtain humped it
self, and the first act was about in the
act of producing itself, when a meek
little gentleman, with an air of con
scious gui't, came'down the aisle in ad
vance of a woman's excursion, consist
ing of four female members of his fam
ily, I judged. lie looked about over
the house, timidly took off his coat and
seemed to be preparing himself for the
vigilance committee. Then hesatdcwn
to see whether exesutive clemency
could do anything for him.
The first woman of the four was prob
ably over forty, and yet with her al
most beardless face she looked scarcely
thirty-eight. She wore a tall,erect hat,
with u eimrt uluine in it., made by pull
ing the paint-brush tail out of an iron
gray mule and dying it a deep crimson,
She wore other clothing, but that did
not incense me so much as this hat,which
I had to examine critically all the even
She moved her head also, and kept
time to the music, and breathed hard
iu places, and shuddered once or twice.
Sue also spoke to the miserable man
who brought her. Her voice was a
rich baritone, with a low xylophone ac
tion, and she breathed like the passion
ate exhaust of an overworked freight
engine. When she spoke to her escort
I noticed that he shortened up about
four inches and seemed to wish|he had
never entered society.
The other three women had broad
hats with domes to them, and the one
who sat on ray right also sat on her
foot. This gave her a fine opportunity
to look out through the skylight of the
opera house now and then. The next
one to her wore her deceased Plymouth
Hock rooster in her hat. The fourth
one sat in front of an oldish gentleman
who went out between the acts and
came in with a pickled olive iu his
mouth each time. He could not see
anything on the stage, but he crawled
up under the brim of this woman's hat,
with nis nose iu the meshes of her hair,
and his hot, local option breath in her
neck, patiently trying to see.
If you will continue in your excellent
paper to sit down on the tall hats, I
will get vou a number of subscribers
here.— bill Nye, in New York World.
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
A Lesson With a Moral.
When Will Our Eyes be Opened to
this Great National Calamity ?
The year 1886 played sad havoc with
many prominent men of our country.
Many of them died without warning,
passing away apparently in the full
Hush of life.
Others were sick but a comparatively
short time. We turn to our dies and
are astonished to find that most of them
died ot apoplexy, of paralysis, of nerv
ous prostration, of malignant blood hu
mor, of Height's disease, of.heart dis
ease, of kidney disease, of rheumatism
or of pneumonia.
It is singular that most of our prom
inent men dio f these disorders. Any
journalist who watches the telegraph
rej>orts will be astonished at the num
ber of prominent yictims of these dis
Many statements have appeared in
our paper with others to the effect that
the diseases which carried off so many
prominent men in 1886 are really one
disease, taking different names accord
ing to the location of the fatal efftcts.
When a valuable horse perishes, it
becomes the nine days' talk of the
sporting world, and yet thousands of
ordinary horses are dying every day,
their aggregate loss is enormous, and
yet their death creates no comment.
So it is with individuals. The cause
of death of prominent com
ment, especially when it can be shown
that one unsuspected disease carries off
most of them, and yet "vast numbers
of ordinary men and women die before
their time every year from th 3 same
It is said if the blood is kept free
from uric acid, that heart disease, par
alysis, nervous prostration,pneumonia,
rheumatism, and many cases of con
sumption, would never be known. This
uric acid, we are told, is the waste of
the system, and it is the duty of the
kidneys to remove this waste.
We are told that if the kidneys are
maintained in perfect health, the uric,
kidney, acid is kept out of the blood,
and these sudden and universal diseas
es caused by uric acid will, in a large
measure, disappear.
But how shall this be done ? It is
folly to treat effects. If there is any
kuown way of getting at the cause,that
way should be known to the public.
We believe that Warner's safe cure of
which so much has been written, and
so much talked of by the public gener
ally,and which can be obtained of deal
ers everywhere, is now recognized by
impartial physicians and the public as
the one specific for such diseases.
Because public attention has been di
rected to this great remedy by means of
advertising, some persons have not be
lieved iu the remedy. We cannot see
how Mr. Warner could immediately
benefit the public in any other w r ay,and
his valuable specific should not be con
demned because some nostrums have
come before the public in the same way,
and more than that all doctors should
be condemned because so.many of them
are incompetent.
It is astonishing what good opinions
you hear on every side of that great
remedy, and public opinion thus based
upon'an actual experience, has all the
weight and importance of absolute
At this time of the year,the uric acid
in the blood pneumonia and
rheumatism, and there is not a man
who does not.'dread these monsters of
disease; but he need .have 110 fear of
them, we are told, if he rid the blood of
the uric acid cause.
These words are strong, and may
sound like r an advertisement, and be re
jected as such by; unthinking people,
but we believe they are the truth, and
as such should be spoken by. every
truth-loving newspaper.
The Judge Needed the Money.
I have just heard the following good
story on Chief Justice Bleckley. All
who know Judge Bleckley and recall
his long waiving hair and beard will
! appreciate the story. Judge Bleckley
: was on his way to the supreme court
| one morning, when he was accosted by
a little street gamin, witli an exceed
-1 ingly dirty face, with the customary
"Shine, sir
lie was quite' a importunate, and the
judge,' being impressed; with the op
pressive untidiness of the boy's face,
said : *1 don't want a shine, but if
you will|go aud washjyour face I'll giye
youja dime.'
'All right, sir.'
'Well, let me see you do it.'
The boy went over to the artesian hy
drant and made his ablution. Return
ing, he held out his hand for the dime.
The judge said: 'Well, sir, you've
earned your money; here it is.'
'The ooy said : 'I don't want your
money, old fellow; you take it and have
your hair cut.' Saying which he scam
pered off.
A boy was asked what meekness
was. He thought a moment and
said 'Meekness gives smooth answers
1 rough questions.'
NO. 12-
If subscribers order the discontinuation of
newspapers, the publishers may continue to
send thein until all arrearages are paid.
If subwrllxTS refute or neglect to take their
newspapers from the office to which they Are sent
they are held responsible until they have settled
the bills ai d ordered them discontinued.
If subscribers move toother places withoutln
forming the publisher, and the newspapers are
aent to the former tdace. they are responsible.
1 Wk. i mo. I 3 mos. 0 raos. 1 yeaj
1 square t2 uo 14 001 $a oo $ 6no *8 co
H " 700 10 00 15 00 30 00 40 00
1 " 10 00 15 00 1 25 00 45 00 75 00
One Inch makes a square. Adminlstratora
and Executors' Notices #2.50. Transient adver
tisements and locals 10 cents per line for first
insertion and 5 cents per line for each addltlou
al Insertion*
Divided Responsibility.
There are k three brothers in the Pat
rick family —ooe of the sisters is the
wife of Editor Medill, of the Chicago
Tribune— Abraham; James, aa ex-
Common Picas Judge, and Andrew,
a banker. Abraham (of New Philadel
phia, Ohio), who read law here, tells
this story himself:
When the three brothers were boys
their father purchased a litter of young
pigs of a particular breed quite uncom
mon in those days. During their in
fancy he watched those pigs with a
very jealous eye, and would have
missed bis supper at any time rather
than to have seen the porkers go to
their nests hungry. One day be took
Abraham aside and said;
"My son, I am called away on busi
ness and expect to be gone a week. I
want you to look after the pigs and see
that they get all they want "
"All right, father," said Abraham.
Going to James,the old gentleman
"I am going out of town for a week,
James, and while gone, you feed and
water those pigs, the same as I have
"I'll givejtbem my personal atten
tion,said James.
"Andrew," said old Mr. Patrick,
asking the young man aside, "1
charge you with the pigs. Don't
to feed them at least three times a day
while I am away."
"You may depend on me,father; I
shall see that the pigs do not suffer,"
6aid Andrew.
Having delivered his commands,the
old gentleman climbed into his carri~
age and took np his jonrney. Eight
days later he returned. When he en
tered the house he met Abraham.
"Did you feed the pigs?" he asked.
"No, James did," said Abraham.
"Meetiug James he asked: How are
the pigs?"
"I don't know," replied James; "An
drew took care of them."
Hunting up Andrew, he exclaimed:
''Well, Andrew, have the pigs pros
pered under your care?
"I haven't seen the pigs," said An
drew; "the other boys looked after
The old gentleman, with a horrible
suspicion under bis hat, rushed to the
pen. There, in death's cold embrace,
lay the young porkers stiff and stark
A few minutes later three young men
were being reasoned with in the wood
shed, and it is altogether likely that
they experienced a change of heart be
fore the old gentleman and his cowhide
left them.— Cleveland Leader.
The German-American Registers.
His German accent was undeniable,
and as be floated into the register's of
fice the boys all stood around to hear
the fun.
'Name and residence ?' asked the
clerk In a peremptory sl2sa-month tone
of voice.
( I live in dot same blaces where I live
for twendy years.'
•Well, where is that ?'
•Don't you found dot in dose gread
rechister V'
• Whatis'your name, anyhow ?'
'Varrom you ask so many iukivlsit
quesdions; ain't dot name mit de gread
rechister like the odder, eh ?'
•But unless you give me your name
and residence you cannot register.'
I Vy gaot I recnister ? I haf been a
citizen fourteen years, und my name is
Ludwig Auerhausen, don't it ?'
'Oh, Ludwig Auerhausen. Well, Mr.
Auerhausen, where do you reside ?'
•Der teufel I Don't I already haf told
you dot dree dimes? I von't talk some
more. I gome pack here again und
talk mit your employer. For vyyoa
be imbudent mit me V If you gome to
my house somedimes I don't tread you
like dot.'
•Where is 3 our house ?'
'On Lombard street, between Mason
aDd Powell, of gourse. I haf always
lived dere.'
•All right, here you are. Thirty
fourth district. Take this slip and go
over to that counter and give it to that
• Yot I go ofer dere for; don't I shust
half gone away from dot blace ? I
von't rechister some more at all. Ober
I'll haf you discharged mit incompe
tence, shust as soon as I gan 1' and he
went off in a rage, neither turning a
round nor stopping at the registration
A gentleman whose son is a grad
uate of the University of Texas, to
test the young man'sjknowledge.asked
him: "What's the difference between
ihe regular and irregular Greek
verbs?'' "We get more lickings trying
to learn the irregular ones," was the
reply. — Texas Siftings.