Demorealic lata
Friday Morning, Sept. 27, 1889.
THAT WONDROUS ELIXIR.
The years of her life numbered four score and
ten,
Her memory long ago failed her,
Her health Rs hh that medical men,
Could not guess what the thing was that
ailed her.
She was blind as a bat, as deaf as a post,
And everything seemed to confuse her;
We daily expected she'd give up the ghost,
And yet we all dreaded to lose her.
A short time ago, as a dernier resort,
In hopes that it somehow might fix her,
We gave her in moderate doses a quart
of Pr Brown-Sequard’s elixir.
It acted like magic ; much younger she grew,
Her hair showed no silvery shade in,
Aud then in the course of a fortnight or two!
She changed to a charming young maiden.
Yet still the elixir continued to act ;
To childhood we saw her returning,
And fiction was not half so wondrous as fact,
For dolis she was found to be yearning!
She shortly became her great-grandchildren,s
pide,
With playthings and innocent prattie,
Until as a Baby of ninety she died,
oh to death, having swallowed
rattle.
her
—F. H. CURTISS,
ER ————————
THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER.
Mrs Denza was the prettiest woman
in all Sydenham, and her villa was the
best kept and most artistically decor-
ated house in the town. Michael Danza
was a wine merchant, in partnership
with his elder brother Joseph, and had
a large connection in the city. The
brothers Denza were good-looking men.
Michael especially so. They had Ital-
ian blood in their veins, and something
of the Italian warmth of feeling in their
natures. They were well off, too, with-
out being wealthy.
Michael Danza was leaning back in
his office chair one afternoon in No-
vember, picking his teeth with a quill
~—a look of perplexity, upon his hand-
some features. Notwithstanding the
time of year, a yellow rosebud bloomed
in his buttonhole, and his dress was
that of a man of fashion.
“I can’t imagine,” he said, as he re-
garded a newly-received telegram on
the table before him, “where the money
goes to! Ella is so very simple in her
tastes. She scarcely ever seems to
spend any money on herself, and yet
this is the second demand she has made
for 20 pounds within a fortnight. I
don’t grudge it her, Joseph, mind thal;
2 I can’t think what she does with
1 er)
“Why don’t you ask her ?"’ observed
the practical elder brother. Joseph
Denza might have been as good-look-
ing as Michael had he not been so fat,
but he was ten years older—a man
verging on forty, and he was of a hard-
er and more suspicious nature than his
younger brother. He had no love for
women either. He had been cruelly
deceived by one of the sex in the days
af his youth.
“Why don’t you ask her?’ he said.
“She won't tell you the truth,of course,
but it may prevent such exorbitant de-
mands for the future.”
“Ella never told me a lie yet,” cried
Michael, firing up. “I am sure of it.
She is as clear and open as the day.”
“Clear and open!” sneered Joseph.
“My dear Michael you are a fool! A
divorced woman clear and open!”
“She is not a divorced woman’ re-
turned the other, hotly. “You know
that perfectly well. She divorced her
first husband on account of his cruelty
and infidelity to her.”
“Bunt where can the money go to ?"
“Oh, I don’t care,” cried Michael,im-
patiently, as he pushed the paper away
from him. “I wish I had never raised
the question. I am not going to sus-
pect my wife of using it for an unlaw-
ful purpose. She can do as she likes
with it. It is all the same to me!”
“But that is rather a dangerous way
of tampering with fortune. If Mrs.
Michael does not spend it she must
give itaway.”
“But to whom. could she give it?
She has no relations dependent on her?”
“Can any one have a hold upon her,
Michael 2” demanded Joseph, suspici-
ously.
“What do you mean?”
“Can Ella have been so imprudent as
to encourage some young fellow far
enough—I am only alluding to a flir-
tation, you know—to embolden him to
apply to her for money on pain of dis-
closure? We have heard of such
things with married ladies before, you
know, you and L.”
Michael Denza’s face flushed with
passion as he started from his chair
with a clutched hand.
“If you were not my brother, Joseph,”
he began, but broke off with a harsh
laugh. “What folly I am talking, and
you, too,” he continued. “Ella flirt?
Why, she is the quietest little woman
in the wor'd.”
“Well, yes. She certainly has not
got on very well in Sydenham. I sup-
pose this divorce business has to an-
swer for that ?”
“I suppose so,” said Michael, gloom-
ily. “People will talk, if it is only to
hear their own confounded tonenes. I
should have thought it would have
died a natural death long ago.”
“So should I. That is what makes
me think there must be a ‘fresh cause
for scandal. Anyway Ishould find out
where the money goes to.”
“I shall do no such thing!” exclaim.
ed Michael, angrily; but at the same
time he knew that he should.
He quitted the office earlier than
usual that afternoon. He entered
a smoking compartment of the train,as
usual, at London bridge, and, laying
his head back on the cushions. tried to
compose himself to sleep. But the
chatter of two young men in the same
carriage arrested his attention.
were discussing some woman, after the
manner of their kind.
“She's awfally jolly,” said one of
them.
and slim, with gray eyes and brown
hair. Quiet little woman to look
but knows a deal, my boy.”
“Married, Dick ? Eh I”
“Married! TI should think so. I
don’t care a hang for them till they're
They |
|
“Just my style, you know—tall |
at, |
married. No bread-and-butter misses
for me,” continued the creature, who
had not a hair upon his face. “I like
a woman with some nous about her
and who knows a thing or two.”
Michael Denza listened to the bald-
erdash with a fast-beating pulse. It re-
called so painfully the unpleasaut con-
versation he held with his brother
Joseph. He took a hatred to the
speaker, although he had never looked
at him before, and the instant his train
reach the Sydenham station he leaped
out and walked rapidly to his own
house. Hisfirst inquiry was for the
mistress of it. The servant replied that
she was out.
“Out at this time ?”” he said with a
frown, as he consulted his watch.
“Why, it is nearly dark. Are the chil-
dren with her ?”
“No, sir; they are in the nursery.
My mistress wouldn’t take them out to-
day. She said it was too cold.”
Michael Denza began to pace the
room in a fury. He was naturally pas-
sionate and jealous, like the race he
sprung from, but he had never had his
feelings roused in a like manner before.
The words he had exchanged with his
brother Joseph and those to which he
had listened to in the train, all seemed
to rush back upon his mind like so
many flashes of electric light to dis-
perse the mist which had blinded him
—perhaps to his own dishonor. In a
moment the twin demons—doubt and
suspicion—caught hold of him and
worked him up into a state bordering
on madness. Was it possible, he asked
himself, that the words of that vain-
glorious, blatant fool in the railway
carriage pointed to his wife ? Ile had
always believed his wife to have heen a
most injured woman, but the devil
of doubt had been raised in his breast,
and he was ready to believe the very
worst. And if, as he said to himself
with clenched teeth, his brother's sus-
picions proved to be correct, and he
found that Ella had deceived him,
there would be murder in that house
before the night was over. He had
been pacing the floor of the dining-
room for perhaps a couple of hours be-
fore his wife's step sounded in the hall.
She came in hurriedly and nervously :
and, when she heard that her husband
had returned home, it seemed to him
that her voice indicated more than sur-
prise.
“Already !” she exclaimed faltering
ly, “surely it is not 7 yet! Where is
he, in the dining-room ?” She opened
the door then, and stood on the thres-
hold, a lovely picture by the firelight,
in her velvets and furs.
“What has brought you home so
soon Michael ?”” she inquired.
“Have I arrived too early for your
convenience, Mrs. Denza ?” he answer-
ed in a strange tone. “Have I cut your
engagements short 2”
“I don’t understand you,” she said,
closing the door and advancing toward
him, but he could hear that her voice
trembled.
“Then I will explain myself. Where
have you been? Who do you come
fro |”
Mrs. Denza flushed scarlet. She
was a pale woman by nature, but now
her eyes filled with tears under the
pain of her burning complexion.
“Why should you speak to me like
that ?”” she half whispered; “why do
you want to know where I have been?”
Her evident timidity looked so like
guilt that Michael Denza felt sure that
his doubts would prove to be realities.
“Because I suspect your errand, Ella
—more, | know it, and I am resolved
to hear the truth.”
“Oh, God,” she cried, involuntarily,
and there stopped. Her hushand
stalked up to her and grasped her
wrist.
“I married you because I thought
you were a true woman, and would
stick to me,” he said, “and tiil this day
I never suspected you of donble dealing.
But I have found you out at last, and
you shall suffer for it. Tell me the
truth or I will kill you. You have
been with that man.” ’
Her eyelids fell before his angry
glance.
“Oh, Michael, for God's sake for-
give me,” she cried.
“Forgive you !” heexclaimed. “Yes,
I will forgive you, madam; and I will
tell you how. 1 will turn you out of
the house you have dishonored this
very hour; you shall never see me nor
your children again, uor have another
opportunity of deceiving me, as doubt-
less you did the unfortunate devil whose
name you bore before mine.
“It is a lie,” she cried, goaded into
resentment. “I never deceived him. I
was only too patient. He has said so
himself.”
“Then you reserved the honor for
me. I am infinitely obliged to you.
But it is for the last time. You shall
not live to deceive me again.”
He advanced upon her with such a
threatening air that the woman really
thought her last hour had come.
“Mercy, mercy !”” she shrieked. “Oh,
Michael! spare me, and I will tell you
everything.”
“Tell me the truth then, if you can.
Have you come from meeting another
man ?”’
“Yes! yes! 1 have,
“My God! and you can own it. What
is his name?”
Nhe hesitatetl, and he returned to the
attack.
“Giive me his name, or I will strike
you to the ground.”
But a sudden courage seemed to have
come to Mrs. Denza’s aid. She drew
up her slight figure to its full height,
and looked her husband straight in the
eyes.
“Strike me if you will,” she answer-
ed, “and you will learn nothing. But
be patient, and I will take you to him,
dhen you can revenge yourself upon
him as you will.”
“You will take me to him!" he stam-
mered.
“I will take you to him,” she repeat-
ed. “Dut come at once, or it may be
too late.”
She ran swiftly from the house as
she spoke, and Miehael Denza, clap
ping his hat upon his head, followed
her as in a dream. Ile could not be-
lieve it possible she would introduce
him to the very presence of her lover.
Mrs. Denza walked quickly down sev-
eral streets, until she reached a poorer
quarter of the town, formed of small
houses. Knocking quietly at the door
of one of these, she merely said to the
landlady : “I wish to go up-stairs
again.” Then to her husband, “follow
me,” and in another minute they had
ascended the narrow staircase together
and entered a bed-chamber.
Mrs. Denza seemed strangely alter-
ed. Her step had grown majestic, and
her manner almost defiant, as she ad-
vanced to the bedside, and, pulling
down the sheet, disclosed the pallid
face of an attenuated corpse.
“There,” she exclaimed proudly, as
she turned to Michael, “there is the
man I came from.”
“Dead !” he said, falling backward,
“you are fooling me, Ella. This issome
trick of yours. What had you to do
with this corpse 2°
“Iwill tell you, Michael Denza,”
she replied. “That is the corpse of the
man who beat and insulted me, until
for my own safety I was compelled to
separate from him. He has killed him-
self by drink and debauchery, but he
was none the less’ the man whom once
I swore to cherish. When his land-
lady appealed to me some weeks ago
for money to buy him the actual ne-
cessaries of life I did not feel justified
in refusing it. How could I have lived
in luxury and content, knowing that
this wretched creature was dying with-
out one comfort to smooth his passage
tothe grave? Yesterday he passed
away, and the money I asked you for
this afternoon was to pay for his funeral
expenses. [ was wrong, perhaps, not
to confide in you before, but I was
afraid the subject might worry you,
and cause dissension between us. That
has been all my fault. I leave you to
judge whether I deserve the imputa-
tion you have put upon my absence.”
She passed proudly down the stairs
again as she spoke, but Micheal Denza
had caught her before she opened the
hall door.
“Ella, forgive me,” he whispered.
“I was mad. I don’t know what pos-
sessed me, but evil thoughts had been
put into my head, and the idea of los-
ing your confidence and affection was
unbearable.”
“And was it all about money?” she
said, “was it because I never accounted
for how I had spent the last checks?”
“ Tam afraid it was,” he answered,
with a shamed look.—Florance Mar-
ryat.
’
Pit Schweffelbrenner.
SCHLIFFELTOWN, Sept. der 3t, 1889.
Mister Drooker:—Geshter ben ich
ob g'shtart for nivver uf der Hawsa
Barrick tza foos. We ich about ’n far-
tle mile galaffa bin is der olt Dan
Dushter aw cooma in seim buck-hoard,
un hut mer 'n ride aw gabutta, und ich *
war's aw agreed, un we mer about 'n
holwy mile g'fawra sin hut ar mich
g'froked wass des ding is mit dem life- |
lixer ?
Ich hob 'm g'sawt os ich net mainer
derfu wase os wass ols in der tzeitung
shtait.
“Well,” secht ar, “ich du mich for
common net feel boddera weaga so
conventions, awer desmohl hob ich ga-
denkt ich wet amohl ous finna for mich
selwer wass ’s is, un ich bin now uf ’m
waigh tza'm Hawsa Barricker duckter,
for ’s amohl proweera.”
“Well,” hob ich g'sawt, “’s con si
os's dich ordlich goot uf toon’d.”
“Un sell is wass ich denk;” secht ar.
“De gous letsht naucht hob ich der-
weaga gadenkt. Ich bin now dri-un-
sivvatzich yohr olt, and wann des lixer
mich widder tzurick setx’d un maucht
mich widder fartzich, don goolk amohl
ons,’
Un wass hasht don im sin tzu da ?
“Sell will ich der don sawga. My
Sohn, derhame, der Bill, ar fulg’d mer
nimmy un du’t ‘about we ar
will, un ich bin awfongs tzu olt for een.
Now wann sell lixer mich widder frish
un yung maucht, don gook amohl ous,
ich will een wissa lussa os ich selwer
der boss bin uf der olt bauerei. Ei, yusht
de gadonka maucht mich bally goot
feela.”
“Un ich will aw huffa 6s ’s dich ail
recht bring'd,” hob ich g'sawt.
“Yaw, un sell ’s net alles,” secht ar,
“shun for yohra long du’t de fraw mich
yusht der olt grose-dawdy haisa, un dua
os wann ich olsfordt im _eck hucha set,
un ’s mowl halta, so os se du con was
se will. Se is evvy my tzwetty fraw un
yusht dri un fartzich yohr olt. Awer
now ward yusht bis ich amohl ferlixerd
bin un don look out—don luss ich se
wissa os ich aw um der waig bin, un
der maishter im house. Un ich hob aw
'n dochter-mon, der Sam Shumacher,
un forram your hut ar mich ous dreis-
ich dawler b'shissa, un ar main’d aw
ich waer tzu olt for mer selwer helfa.
Un now coasht sana we ’s is—der Bill,
de fraw un der dochter-mon du’'n we se
wella. Awer now wiil ich mich amohl
uf-lixera lussa, und don gebt ’s amohl
shmoke in der kich—wann’s net dut
don is my nawma net Dan Dushter.
Ei de gadonka derfu maucht mich
shunt ordlich goot feela. Yah, ich feel
allaweil shun first rate. ’S coom’d all
recht—teel allaweil 0s wann ich any-
how tooitzae yohr yinger waer, un
wann’s lixer mer now yvusht noch tzain
yohr mainer gebt, ei don bin ich ready
for bisuness, ferluss dich drut.”
We mer uf 'n Hawsa Barrick aw
galand sin hen mer om waertz-house y'-
shtupp’d un ebbas mitnonner g'numma.
Weil der Dan so ivver ous goots moots
war hut ar’s beer uf g'setzd. Don is ar
tzu ‘m duckter, awer ar war net der-
hame, un der Dan hut shtoonda long
warda missa,un weil's mer tzu long war
bin ich ob g'shtart un hame galutta.
We ar ous gamaucht hut mit 'm lixer
duckter wase ich evva uow net, awer
ich fin’s ous in a pawr dawg, un es
coom’d uf umshtenda aw eb ich selwer
ni gae for mich uf lixera.
a ——
Don’t let the fruit rot on the ground.
You can feed it to the stock if there is
no other use tor it. All stock will eat
apples.
The Farmer's Burdens.
Enormous Shrinkage in the Value of
His Property.
To the Editor of the Evening Post.
Sir: Certain family reasons prompted
me a few months ago to buy a farm for
anephew of mine in Western Pennsyl-
vania, and as it was intended as a gift it
was natural that he should have the
choice of location. Tt was not expected
or intended that this should be a paying
investment ; but he was a good farmer,
and never had been trained in any other
line of industry. His choice was to lo-
cate in the southern part of Alleghany
county or the northern part of Washing-
ton county, the very heart of the territo-
ry that for more than halfa century had
supplied the woolen-mills of this coun-
try with the greater share of the fine
wools consumed by them. When I was
a boy every hillside in that region was
covered with sheep, but now, in a day’s
travel, not a single flock is to be seen.
As a means of reaching such a farm as
we wanted, I advertised in a weekly and
a daily paper in Pittsburg, decribing
what we were in search of, and the ap-
plications began to pour in upon me till
they increased to an avalanche, and they
are still coming, although the farm was
found and bought several weeks ago.
The applications, with maps,deseriptions,
ete., now number 128, to say nothing of
many personal solicitations. Everybody
seemed to be clamorous to sell, but I
could not hear of a single sale that had
been made in many months.
EMBARRASSED WITH MORTGAGES
JUDGMENTS,
Such farms as seemed to be eligible
were then subjected to an examination
of how they stood on the records of the
county, in order to determine whether
they were really on the market. Some of
them were in the hands of executors for
the purpose of dividing and closing es-
tates of deceased persons, and some of
them were in the hands of the assigned to
pay creditors their just claims. Indeed,
a large portion of them~—perhaps a maj-
ority—seemed to be embarrassed either
with mortgages or judgments, as shown
by the county records. Many of the old
men wanted to sell because the boys had
gone to town to live, and they were not
able to db the work alone, and many of
the young men wanted to sell because
they thought they could do better by
going to town. In short, everybody
wanted to get clear of their farms, and
the general demoralization among the
agriculturists seemed to be widespread, if
not complete.
ENORMOUS SHRINKAGE IN VALUES.
As a test of prices IT will take a few in-
stances of desirable farmsin the hands of
assignees, One farm was appraised by
order of Court at $62 per acre, and when
offered at public sale there was not a
single bid upon it. Another very valua-
ble farm, beautifully located, was ap-
praised at $100. The assignee offered it
to meat $90, and I was afterward infor-
med that IT could buy it at $80. Still
another was appraised at $75, and the
assignee begged of me to buy it at$60;
OR
. probably $50 would have bought it.
Without going further into details I
think it is sate to say that in this rich
and hitherto prosperous region farms
have shurnk in value from 20 to 33 per
cent. in the past ten years, and whether
this is the beginning of the decadence
and desertion of the old homesteads like
the New England experiences, n» mortal
man can tell. This cannot be accounted
for on the grounds of any temporary or
transient disaster or failure of crops, for
that region has been steadily productive
and the crops of the present year have
been uncommonly abundant. We must,
therefore, look in some other direction
for the cause or causes that have led to
this fully developed depression and de-
cadence.
BEFOGGED BY THE WORD “PROTECTION,”
‘When Jacob called his sons together
to pronounce his prophetic blessing and
to tell them what should befall them in
the last days, he so tully and completely
described the condition at present of the
farmers of Western Pennsylvania that
we cannot refrain from quoting what he’
said of one of his sons :
‘“Issachar is a strong ass couching
down between two burdens ; and he saw
that rest was good, and the land that it
was pleasant ; and he bowed his shoulder
to bear, and become a servant under tri.
bute.”
However just it might be to speak of
the farmers of Western Pennsylvania as
“strong asses,” it would not be a reflec-
tion on my own ancestors, who flourished
there. Still there is something intensely
asin ne in a far ver struggling under the
grinding weight of a mortgage on his
homestead, and still voting and shout-
ing for whatever measure will prot ote
the financial prosperity of the Iron King
Andrew Carnegie. These sons of Issac-
har, whether we call them asses or not,
do not lack in selfishness, but they aie
so completely befogeged with the word
‘protection’ that they never raise a
murmur in continuing to®paw war taxes
on all they buy. When the Sheriff is
waiting to sell theroof from over the fur-
mer’s head he still supposes that the doc-
trine that has brought him to poverty and
has made Andrew Carnegie a millionaire
many times over is the true doctrine of
government. As Jacob said of Issach-
ar. ‘He has bowed his shoulder to bear
and become a servant to tribute.”
THE FARMER'S TWO BURDENS,
The two burdens between which these
descendants of Issachar are ‘“couching
down’ are the products of cheaper Wes-
tern lands, with which they arc brought
into competition, and the taxes on ever-
thing they buy, so ingeniously collected
from them that they don’t know they are
paying them. In the nature of things the
former burden cannot be removed. The
competition must be met by better hus-
bandry and lower prices of land. Re-
move the other burden—the taxes collec
ted from the farmer for the benefit and
support of other industries—and the far-
mer will be able to take care ot himself.
When he wants to build a fence or a
barn, don’t compel him to pay two dol-
lars a thousand feet on his lumber for
the special benefit of a ew lumber bar-
ons ; let him buy his lumber where he
can buy it the cheapest. When he
comes to build his fence orhis barn don’t
tax him on the bandsaw, the hamnier,
and on every vail he drives, for the ben-
efit of the iron lords. When he goes
out to salt his stock, don’t tax him on
every ounce of it for the benefit of a few
great and very wealthy combinations.
When he puts a teaspoonful of sugar in
his coffee, don’t tax him on that tea-
spoonful for the benefi* of a few hundred
sugar-growers in Louisiana.” Put your
taxes on the luxuries, but take them off
the necessaries of the farmer's life.
SHALL FARMING BE ABANDONED ?
That this enormous shrinkage in the
value of farming property should have
taken place right in the midst of a series
of years of continuous manufacturing
prosperity is a very significant indication
that the industrial interests are out of
balance and that the manufacturer is
eating up the farmer. No wonder that
the young men are leaving for the towns
where they will be the beneficiaries and
not the victims of what is called a “pro-
tective’” tariff. If ever there was a
time in the history of this country when
manufacturing prosperity should secure
agricultural prosperity, now is the time
for that result to develop itself; but
instead of this we see colossal fortunes
growing up on the one hand, and shrink-
age, decay and abandonmenton the oth-
er. Shall the experiences of New Eng-
land be repeated in Western Pennsylva-
nia, and shall the next generation see
farm after tarm and township after town-
ship abandoned and forsaken?
IGNORANCE AS TO THE VALUE OF FARM
LANDS.
In the early part of my correspond-
ence, and before the applications became
so numerous as to be unanswerable, I
asked some questions about prices, ete.,
and I was astonished at the complete ig-
norance that seemed to prevail almost
everywhere as to the price of farms. In
one case a lawyer in Pittsburg said.
{We are not aware here that there has
been any drop in the price of farms, but
rather a rise.” Another lawyer in Pitts-
burg, who had an excellent farm for sale
could not accept a remark from me that
farms were down in value, but insisted
that “as Pittsburg was a great manufac-
turing and business centre, it was not
possible for farms to fall in value in all
that region.” Still another Pittsburger
had a valuable farm for sale at $125 per
acre, and his method of reasoning to con-
vince me that it was very cheap was en-
tirely unique. He said: ¢I put that
price on that farm ten years ago; I
thought it was not too high then, and it
certainly must haveadvanced materially
since then.”” This was the kind of rea-
soning we met with, all based upon that
miserable fallacy that if you legislate so
as to keep up the price of iron, you ben-
efit the man who has to buy it.
NO PURCHASERS.
Here we have an object-lesson in the
facts as we have stated them, and it
cannot be reasoned away eitherby ignor-
ance or prejudice. The records of the
Courts and the unavailing efforts of as-
signees to make sales, to say nothing of
my own personal experiences, all go to
show that there are absolutely no pur-
chasers for the great numbers of farms
that are pressing upon the market. And
what is to become of poor Issachar,
couching down between his two burdens
of Western competition and unjust taxa-
‘ion? Heis a “strong ass,” and he has
the power to free himself from the latter
burden and strength enough to fight his
way against the former. Will he do it,
or will he continue “to bow his shoul-
der to bear, and remain a servant to
tribute 7”
New York, Sept. 5.
wr eo———
J HW.
Things a Women Can Do.
List of Accomplishments Peculiar to
Members of the Fair Sea.
Boston Times.
She can come to a conclusion without
the slightest trouble of reasoning on it,
and no sane man can do that.
Six of them can talk at once and get
along first rate, and no two men can do
that.
She can safely stick fifty pins in her
dress while he ig getting one under his
thumb nail.
She is cool as a cucumber in a half
dozen tight dresses and skirts, while a
man will sweat and fume and growl in
one loose shirt.
She can talk as sweet as peaches and
cream to the woman she hates, while
two men would be punching each other’s
head before they had exchanged ten
words.
She can throw a stone with a curve
that would be a fortune to a base ball
pitcher.
She can say “no” in such a low voice
that it means “yes.”
She can sharpen a lead pencil if you
give her plenty of time and plenty of
pencils.
She can dance all night in a pair of
shoes two sizes too small for her and en-
joy every minute of the time.
She can appreciate a kiss from her hus-
band seventy-five years after the mar-
riage ceremony was performed.
She can go to church and afterward
tell you what every woman in the con-
gregation had on, and in some rare in-
stances can give you some faint idea of
what the text was.
She can walk half the night with a
colicky baby in her arms without one
expressing the desire of murdering the
infant.
She can do more in a minute than a
man can do in an hour, and do it bet-
ter.
She can drive a man crazy in twenty-
four hours and then bring him to para-
dise in two seconds by simply tickiing
him under the chin, and there does not
live that mortal son of Adum’s misery
who can do it.
“What do you do when people
come in and hore you?” a warm, person-
al friend asked of a merchant. “When
they stay too long, the office bov. who
is very bright and knows just when to |
interfere, tells me that a gentleman is
in the counting-house walling to see tie
on important ® business.” “Ha, ha!
That's a capital way to get rid of bores | ! |
: i i and the “load” consists of 20 cartridges.
who don’t know”— Just then the hoy
opened the door and sang out: * Gent
in the counting house, sir, waitin’ to
see you on important business,"
——('itizen (poking his head our ot
back window)—=See here, Uncle Ras
tus, what are you doing around my hen
coop at this hour ot thenicht?
Uncle Rastus (promptiv)--I
gwine to ast yo', Mister Smit, ef von
don’ wan’ ter git dat hen coop white-
washed, It needs it bad, "deed it do.
was
{Orow
All Sorts of Paragraphs.
—A Maine man has raised a blue pig,
which he will exhibit at the State Fair.
—Mr. Edison is said to receive no less
than 1,200 letters daily since his arrival
in Paris.
—John Brown, a negro of Macon
county, Ga., in a few days canght 554
rats in a pot of water.
—The mouth of Calumetriver, empty-
ing into Lake Michigan, has moved east
2,800 feet since 1836.
—A Swiss cheese which was received
by an Atchison grocery firm the other
day weighed 700 pounds.
—There is a sunflowerstalk at Hanni-
bal, Mo., which is 16 feet high and
which contains 150 blossoms.
--A potato weighing two pounds and
ten ounces is one of the curiosities exhibi-
ted in Aroostook county, Me.
— While examining a bunch of bana-
nas, a Boston dealer found a snake two
feet long concealed under the fruit.
—A. M. Britten, of Bancroft, Mich.,
is the owner of a pear tree which is now
ripening its second crop for this season.
—A rare and fine violin of the great
master, Nicolaus Amati, made in 1674,
is owned by A. H. Pitkin, of Hart-
ford, Conn.
—dJohn Praugh, of Goshen, Ind., ag-
ed 64, has become the father of a bounc-
ing baby boy, presented to him by his
wife, aged 76.
—The force which a California pump-
kin exerts while growing is equal to the
strength ofa large horse attached to a
stick of timber.
—The London Omnibus Company
have only 26 coaches running, and yet
they carried over 50,000,000 passengers
during the year just past.
—A peddler, given a night's lodging
this week in a Cleveland police station,
said he was 92 years old, and that he
Tolead all the way from Williamsport,
8.
—A tin peddler who travels through
Canada can exhibit 41 sears where far-
mers’ dogs have taken hold of him to
see whether he was a dummy or a live
man.
—A Moorish gentleman rides at his
friends at a gallop, shoots his pistol and
fancies that he has done everything in
the line of courtesy which can be ex-
pected of him.
—A hen rt Madison, Neb., has adopt-
ed alitter of kittens. For the past week she
has sheltered them with her wings, tries
to feed them and shows fight when any-
one approaches.
—The largest bar of gold ever cast
was turned out at the United State As-
say Office in Helena, Mont., recently.
It weighed 500 pounds, and is worth
more than $100,000. :
—A young housekeeper of York
bought a chicken the other day, but re-
turned it to the dealer and got another
because it had a cancer. It was the
first gizzard she ever saw.
—Lord Brassey's London house is
lighted by electric lamps, inglosed in
seashells of the greatest beauty, whose
transparency sheds a glowing refulgence
over the whole apartment,
—Prof. Paul Wiegert,a distinguish-
ed German, figures that 7 cents worth of
food will keep a strong man in good
form from day to day, and that we would
all be healthier without underwear or
overcoats.
—Roy Leport, 12 years old, of Bur-
lington, Ta., was in apparent good health,
except fora boil on his neck. Friday
night the boil broke, and the little fellow
died within a few hours. Physicians
aremystified over the case.
—dJoaquin Miller, who gave to the in-
cipient State of Idaho its name, says that
it is written and spelled improperly.
The correct form in Idahoho, with the
accent on the third syllable. The
name means the light on the mountain.
—One of the objects of curiosity at
Kennebunkport, Me., is the stone house
of Rev. KE. L. Clarke, of New York, built
of rocks hauled out of the sea atlow tide
by oxen. Rev. Mr. Clarke put on his
overalls and steered the steers part of -
the time himself.
--A steer which seems destined to a
circus life is exhibited at Pimlico, Mad.
It is 4 years old, 14 feet in length, 17
hands high, and weighs 4,000 pounds.
Not content with being a curiosity as to
height, the steer has:dded the feature of
double joints in his legs.
— Miss Rebecca Fairbanks, the last of
a family that came over in 1635, is said
to be still living in a house at Dedham),
Mass., that was brought over in the
year raentioned and located on its pre-
sent site at that time. The Fairbanks
scale man came of this family.
— Hamilton Maffett, who resides north
of Lawrenceville, Ga., has been almost
at death’s door since campmeeting, caus-
ed from a spider bite inflicted on the left
shoulder a year or two ago. Mr. Maf-
fett is now in his 72d year, and the fam-
ily are fearful that should he recover he
will lose his eyesight.
— Mr. Jones, of Cisco Tex., got the
idea that there were too many rattle-
snakes on his farm. The other day he
quit his plo ing and went gunning for
them. Under theedge of a large rock
he discovered a nest and began firing at
the reptiles. He kept it up until he had
shot 21 larg: snakes. Scores of young
ones got away.
—The Emperor of Germany recently
sent a specimen rifle to the Emperor of
Austria, the varrel of which does not
hot. After 100 shots had been
tired the harrel was merely warm. The
Cmacazine” of this rifleis in the stock,
| It ean be reloaded in five seconds, and
discharge 60 shots a minute.
—The f llowing notice iz posted in a
conspicuoue place in the Cedar Springs,
Mich , postoffice: “Burchs mill Aug.
the 20-89. notis is given that A. H.
Nicholson at burchs Mill has a yoak of
oxen 7 years old to sell 1 first clas cow of
which he will sell for cash Down. the
above stock is orderly the cow comes at
cawling as fur as she can hear. A. H.
Nicholson, oner of said stock at burchs
rojll.re
©