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VOLIVIII. NO, 25.
TIONESTA, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1885.
$1.50 PER ANNUM.
THE SCARECROW,
In yonder Mold lio stands eroct,
No matter what tlio weather,
And keeps a watch 10 circumspect
On foes of every fontlier,
Bo faithful is he to the trust
Committed to his keeping
That all tho Mnls mspoct ho must
Dispense Willi any sleeping.
Sometimes his hnt tips down so low
It seems a cause for eeusuro,
For then some old, courageous crow
Believes it safe to venture;
But catching sight of cither arm
Outstretcliod in solemn warning,
The crow decides to leave this farm
Until another morning.
Although his dress is Incomplete,
H really does not matter;
Porchanre the truoHt heart may beat
Benrath a patch or tatter.
And it is wrong to baso our love
On wealth and name and station,
For he who may will rise above
nil daily occupation.
We should not look with eyes of scorn,
And And in him no beauty
Who stands and guards our fields of corn,
And does the whole world duty,
But honor him for native worth,
For rustic independence,
And send a hearty greeting forth
For him and his descendants.
Martha C. Cook; in Young People.
A QUAINT PROPOSAL
- The lilac bush beneath tho south win
dow of Willow Brook Farm's wninscot
tod purlor nodded gracefully ns a tiny
tcphyr swept gayly by, wafting far and
near its incense of now mown hay. In
its wako fluttered a purplo and golden
butterfly, to poiso a moment upon tho
window's ledge, then to sour boldly for
ward until it lit upon a curious old vnso
beside an organ, whoso yellowed keys
gleamed softly in tho half darkened
room. Tho butterfly and tho vnso mir
rored themselves in tho polished oak
floor, and if tho range had been right
they could have repeated tho picturo in
the shining surface of each articlo of
furniture.
A young girl was tho sole occupant of
tho room, with the exception, of course,
of tho butterfly, who had winged his
way to a small oval mirror and was busily
making his toilet, as his companion,
humming a merry tunc, dusted carefully
ft squatty teapot, whose fat little spout
and comic tout ensemble at once inspired
t longing for tea brewed in such novel
quarters. At that moment a voice, call
ing "Marthy I Marthyl" echoed through
tho house, .followed by: "Hun quick
old Tim's in the corn field, and my hands
are all over dough!"
Hastily replacing the ancient heirloom
on a spindle-legged table, the young
girl darted from the room, while the
Butterfly, startled at its toilet, spread its
brilliant wings and floated swiftly out
Into the sunshine again. Snatching a
snowy sun bonnet from its peg in tho
hall, Martha flew down the garden path
across to an adjacent meadow. In her
hurry she failed to notice a gentleman
slowly advancing in her direction, until
two masculine handB stayed her progress.
With an exclamation of surprise, Mar
tha raised her pretty blue ejes nnd met a
pair of decidedly good-looking brown
ones, gazing with evident appreciation
at the dimpled, blushing face, from off
which the sun-bonnet had slipped, dis
closing a crop of reddish golden rings
.'ying close to the finely -shaped littlo head.
"I beg your pardon," murmured Mar
tha, the blushes and dimples waxing
deeper, "but I didn't sco you, I was in
such a hurry."
"Don't mention it. Wouldn't have
missed the the pleasure for anything.
1 I like to bo run into," averred the
centlcmnn with considerable emphasis.
Such a rippling laugh as bubbled over
the lips of Martha at this speech, which
she hastily apologized for with:
"I didn't mean to, really; but what
you said sounded so odd."
"You couldn't do it again, could you?
I assure you I never appreciated being a
odd until to-day. I"
"Oh, the cowl" exclaimed Martha,
suddenly recollecting her errand. "I
forgot all about him, "and away the sped,
the gentleman hurrying after, repeating:
'Cow! Ilira! Let me help you. I I
really am very clever with cows. In fact
I would like to make them a study."
However, when the Hold was reached
do cow was to be seen, and remarkiug
that doubtless some of the hands had
ousted old Tim, Martha turned her steps
toward the house, thinking the gentle
man would proceed on his way. To her
astonishment, however, ho kept along by
her side, observing:
"Are you acquainted at Willow Brook
farm?" j
"Why, yes; it's my hono. I was
born there," answered A'd'tha, sur
prised ly.
"Happy farml I incan 't must be
lovely place. You ce,0(Jjllij,fact is
that is, I have a note for A ' ancan, of
Willow Brook Farm." .jalpoln,
"My mother!" cjacu Martha,
opening wide her blue ey -g - 'sreupon
the gentleman scanned " newly
awakened interest a squ ope he
had extracted from hi ' Vet, as
he added : .iur in
"I am an old I sho
is an old friend of Mrr cpini re
ing a rough calculati DniULLO,
time it might take, i..
to place him on equa'
with the Idaughte
thoughts ?an very nQ GOODS.
"Would be nice 1
so sallow. Wouiler
him to make us a vij .
her speak of an old i-JCAN, only
on."
l!y this time they
the path that led t
lother
roak-
h of
ible,
vnc
ilia's
A,,
.. a
rose garlanded porch, and having ushered
tho gentleman into the parlor wo have
alrcadv been introduced to, with a de
mure littlo courtesy nnd tho words "I
will send mother," Martha left him.
In a few moments a comely, rosy
checked woman came hurrying into tho
parlor with:
"Good afternoon, sir, Martha tells mo
you have a letter for mo from an old
friend."
"Yes, from my mother," and tho
gentleman held toward her tho letter.
Having read it through, interrupted
with exclamations such ns "Bless me!
Who'd have thought it!" Mrs. Dun
can, her pleasant luce deepening into a
smile ejaculated :
"So you aro littlo Pnul Dorsey. Myl
how time flies. When I last saw you,
you were only a littlo shaver. It must
bo nigh onto fifteen years ago. And to
think of Lucindy's remembering me all
those years and sending her son to see
me. Not that I have forgotten her not
a bit. Only with cne thing and another
one hasn't timo to think much of old
days. You see your ma and I went to
the same nendemy, and we thought ft
sight of each other; only somehow after
both of us married we sort of drifted
apart. Y'our ma sho married a wealthy
city man, while I got wedded to a well
to do fanner, nnd to gradually we each
went our own way. Not to forget euch
other though, as you see, nnd now, my
dear, excuse tho liberty, but it comes
natural like, being your Lucindy's son,
I'll send ono of the men down to tho vil
lage ufter your trunk, and you'll just
stop along with us and bo ns welcome as
my own son, if I had one, nnd Marthy
and I will do our best to make you com
fortable," and motherly Mrs. Duncan
laid her hand with nn approving pat upon
Paul Dorsey's slightly stooping should
ers, while ho, coloring somewhat, en
deavored to thank her for her warm hos
pitality, but was cut shoit with:
"Bless you, it's no put out, we have
lots of room, tnd it wil be a real pleasure
to mo to see lucindy's son making him
self to homo in my house."
And thus it was that Paul Dorsey be
came a guest at Willow Brook Farm.
That evening after her visitor had re
tired Mrs. Duncan observing to her
diuigther:
"Poor young man, he hasn't a bit of
appetite. I don't wonder Lucicdy Is
fretted about him, She writes that he
is always that taken up with books, that
sho can hardly ever coax him to go
about a bit with young folks and enjoy
himself. I've been thinking Marthy, if
you was just to kind of make believe
you need his help now and again about
the garden and such, it would do him a
sight of good, and he'd never suspect it
was for tho sake of his health," and Mrs.
Duncan laughed, a low, pleased laugh,
at tho thought of the deception, while
Martha exclaimed :
"Why, mother! you aro getting to be
a regular conspirator. But I am afraid
it won't work, he's so so odd."
Paul Dorsey had been told to make
himself perfectly at homo; so the morn
ing after his arrival he withdrew from
the breakfast table to his own room, and
forthwith commenced to unpack his
books preparatory to a good day's study.
Everything was at last arranged to his
satisfaction, but somehow his thoughts
were strangely wandering this day, al
though not a souud disturbed tho cool
quietness of his surroundings. A pair
of blue eyes seemed to glance mockingly
from tho musty page ho fain would mas
ter, and he caught himself repeating
aloud tho old-fashioned name of
"Marthy," which took unto itself the
sweetest of sounds by reason of its con
nection with so pretty an owner. Sud
denly, with a thud, the book fell from
his hand, as, exclaiming: "By Jove!
that's her voice," Paul Dorsey, with one
stride, was at the window making sud
havoc of the dainty dimity curtains with
clumsy hands.
Martha, accompanied by a tall stalwart
fellow, was passing down the garden
path, her infectious laughter floating
merrily upon the balmy air as she
chatted away to tho young man at her
side, who appeared to be enjoying the
subject under discussion us much as her
self. As they disappeared from view
Paul, with rather a blauk look, resumed
his seat nnd sought to apply himself to
his interrupted task, but not with the
old ardor did ho work, and for the first
time that ho could remember, he lis
tened anxiously for the bell to summon
him to luncheon.
The days slipped into weeks, and still
Paul Dorsey remained a guest ut Willow
BrooK Farm, nnd it became no unusual
sight to see him obediently following
Martha's directions concerning the up
rooting of certain weeds, or the fasten
ing of some vine more securely about its
support. An honest, bronze tinge had
replaced Paul's onco sallow complexion,
and tho books well, they had become
secondary, a more potent charm having
outrivaled them. Mrs. Duncan con
gratulates herself upon her happy fore
thought that was working such a change
in her friend's son, and Martha admitted
with a slight blush, that Mr. Dorsey
was getting to be almost as handsome us
her cousin Joe her beau ideal of manly
beauty heretofore.
The sun burned scorching hot upon
the broad gravel path just outside of
the farm's pretty purlor, but within that
quaint room a restful coolness held sway.
Louuging idly in tho depths of a willow
chair, was Paul, while Martha, suited at
the old organ, drew from its aged keys a
low, plaintive melody. As the last aote
died softly away, whirling round upon
her seat, Martha exclaimed:
"Do you know, Mr. Dorsey, vou
have been wasting the whole morning? I
don't believe you have looked at a book
for two days" this last, it must bj
owned, with a blight air of triumph no
she continued, penitently: "I am afraid
1 Kave been to blume, but tomorrow I
will leave you free to spend tho whole
day with your books, for Cousin Joe ho
promised to drive me over to Daploston
to do gome shopping."
"Hang cousin Joe"
"Mr. Dorsey 1" from Martha's aston
ished lips.
"I beg pardon, I really I hope you
will have a delightful time, Miss Dun
can. I assure you I shall a enjoy it im.
meiiscly being left to my books and
confound itl Kxcusemel "
And beforo Martha could reply, Paul
Dorsey had left the room.
"How queer it is," soliloquized Mar.
tha, as Paul's departing footsteps echoed
through tho hall) "I don't see why ho
should dislike Joe so; Joe is always such
a favorite with every one. Ihono I haven't
offended him. I am sure I didn't mean
to." And with rather a puzzled look
upon tho fair young face, Martha closed
the organ.
That evening as Martha stood down by
the meadow gato caressing oil Doxey,
the mare, her quick ears caught the
sound of a familiar tread advancing to
ward her, and a moment after a voice
exclaimed;
"I am an idiot, Miss Martha, but I I
hope you will forgive me. I couldn't
bear tho idea of his monopolizing you
all day. I know you could never think
of an old bookworm like myself still I
I have been very happy, and I forget
sometimes that that there is such a dif
ference between us."
Martha's cheeks had been growing
rosier and rosier, while a strange, wild
joy surged through her veins, as she an
swered, her tones trembling slightly.
"Since I can remember Consin Joe and
I have been playmates, and since father
died he has been so good and kind to
mother, helping her about the farm and
in every way, that he has become like n
son to her, and as dear as a brother to
mc. Dear Joe! I don't know what we
should have dono without him." She
paused, the tears gathering in her pretty
eyes. Paul drew nearer, then hesitated,
as Martha continued:
"Joo is engaged to my dearest friend,
and they are to be married in just six
weeks."
"I am awfully glad I mean I wish
them joy, and all that sort of thing,"
and Paul Dorsey advanced still nearer
the little figure into whose eyes a sweet
shyness had stolen.
"Martha, do you think there is a
ghost of a chance for me? As it's my
first attempt at anything of the kind,
perhaps you will sum it up leniently, and
make my sentence as easy ns you can,"
then gathering courage from Martha's
half averted face, and the extreme pink
ncss of the one visible ear, he laid his
hnnd caressingly upon hers, adding:
"Martha, do you think you can forgive
me fur for loving you?"
"Why should I forgive yon for what I
have done myself?" came the low answer,
followed naively by, "But I did not
know it until to-day, when I thought I
had offended you."
"And and you don't mind my being
odd or anything?" stammered Paul, in
his excessive joy.
"You nro not a bit odd," was the in
dignant reply ; "I wouldn't have you any
different," and Martha touched shyly the
coat-sleeve in close proximity to her
waist, whereupon she immediately dis
appeared from view, and from some
where in the region of Paul's waistcoat
Cocket a muffled little voice might have
cen heard ejaculating:
"Oh, Paul! suppose somebody is look
ing?" "I hope they are," was the audacious
reply, succeeded by a second disappear
ance on Martha's part.
A week or so later a stylishly-dressed,
middle-aged lady was sitting tetn-a-teto
with Mrs. Duncan, who was observing:
"Dear me, Luciudy. you've no call to
thank me. I had nothing to do with it.
Not but what I am real pleased that your
sou and my daughter should come to
gether; but I had no more thought of it
than yourself."
A slight smile stirred the lips of Mrs.
Dorsey as sho remarked :
"You are just tho same as ever. Mary.
Well, if Martha only turns out half as
good a woman ns yourself, 1 am satisfied
that Paul has won a treasure."
"And he'll never forget, mother, that
ho owes that treasure to you, for if you
had not sent him to seek out your old
friend he'd have remained a bachelor to
the end of his days," interrupted a mas
culino voice, whilo a girlish treble ex
claimed, "Oh, Paul!" the rest ot the sen
tence being forever lost by Paul daringly
scaling his betrothed's lips with his own.
A Chilian Hero.
There have never been but two "hand-to-hand"
fights between iron-clads ia
the history of naval warfare. One took
place in Hampton Roads, between the
'Monitor and the Merrimac, as we all
know. The other was at Iquique, Peru,
between tho Peruvian ram Huescar and
the Chilian iron clad Esmeralda. Ad
miral Gran, a Peruvian of German
uucestry, commanded the former, and
Arthur Pratt, a Chilian of English
ancestry, the latter. The Huescar was
the swifter and more powerful vessel,
and struck the other amidships. As she
was sinking Grau struck her again, and
as the two vessels came together, Pratt
sprang on board the Huescar, with two
revolvers, and killed seven or eight men
before he was shct down. His vessel,
tho Esmeralda, with all on board, went
to the bottom of the ocean, and he lay
alone on the deck of the victor, sur
rounded by the bodies of the men he
killed. For this desperate act tho
Chillunos have made him their ideal
hero, and there is monument to his
memory in nearly every town. Streets
and rhops, saloons, mines, opera houses
and even lotteries are named in his
honor, and the greatest national tribute
is to destroy the custom house in order
to erect his monument in the most con
spicuous place in the principal city.
A CUINESEJIACE COURSE.
BEUIXEABLS BCEBE3 AMOVO THH
iLHOVD-ETES OBIE3TTALS.
Going- to the Races In Qnerr Vehicles
The (nolle Carrier Queer
Horses and Jockeys.
The Hong Kong race week is one of
thoso rare occasions when the Chincso
come out of their swarming ant hills,
habit lally so difficult of penetration to
strangers. On the afternoon of the cup
day tiia broad, handsomo main road is
taken possession of for miles by a swiftly
circulating mass of chattering, pig
tailed and most uncanny looking Chi
ncso, with their equally strange looking
vehicles the light covqred crmchair,
carried by bamboo poles on the should
ers of two coolies, and the rickshaw, a
two-wheeled vehicle with a pair of
shafts, between which is placed not a
horse, a mule, a pony, or even a donkey,
but one of those uncensingly toiling
Chinese. "Lickshaw, lickshaw!" they
cannot manage our "r" shout half a
dozen eager competitors to the English
man. The rows of rickshaws, about
three deep, every ono at a brisk trot,
with not an inch interval in front, behind,
or on one side, aro kept rigidly in their
places by tall, stalwart policemen, Eng
lish or Sikhs, stationed along the route;
and if any driver or horse one and the
same in the present case dares to de
viate from tho prescribed line, the
policeman, with great tact and sagacity,
instantly steps forward and whacks him
not taps him. but showers down heavy
whacks on the offender's hollow-sounding,
shaven skull.
But we must not lose sight altogether
of a very important element in the
throng, the sedan chairs. These arc
more suitable for the staid elderly ladies.
1 he bearers, two, or if tho weight of
the lovely burden should try tho sup
porting bamboo poles four in number,
shufllo rapidly and unweariedly along,
and tho occupants, perched high in the
air, endeavor to look dignified, but only
succeed in appearing supremely absurd.
Their coolies, if in private employment,
aro habitually clad in light, bright cot
ton liveries barefooted of course and
the effect is thoroughly Oriental and
rather pretty. There, I see, is the chair
belonging to the establishment of the
governor of tho colony. It is born by
four coolies in our brilliant national
scarlet uniform, and this dazzling color,
in the midst of the Chinese green, yel
low, and blue, really looks very impos
ing. There is a different sort of a
chair, carefully covered and closed
around with Btraw lattice work. It veils
from public view some Chinese beauty
of high degree. Soldiers under the
rank of sergeant are forbidden by garri
son order to travel in rickshaws.
The Europeans are only as units
among thousands. True, the natives,
high and low, rich and poor, afoot or
transported, will instantly shrink nside
at the incessant warning. "Hyah," of
the running coolie, who thus intimates
that he is conveying an Englishman, but
the enormous majority of the streaming
throng is, of course Asiatic Chinese. The
route is lined with palms, with banyan
trees, and with bamboos, and the red,
fever-causing, disintegrated granite dust
flics up into our faces. Up go tho
umbrellas. Up hill, and my
trotting coolie never flags; down
hill, and his speed becomes so breakneck
that every moment I expect an upset, a
collision, or a smash, irrespective of the
contingency of broken bones to ft few
English foot travelers, who would scorn
to move out of the way for any number
of Chinese cries of "Hyah."
Here we aro at the entrance to the
grand stand. A payment of about $5
procures admission to the lawn, and
once more the strangeness of the scene
seems for a time to baffle any systematic
observation, however painstaking. In
lieu of stands are some seven or eight
large mat houses, light, picturesque
structures, supported on bamboo poles,
with sides and roofs of rushes, and deco
rated with tropical evergreens and bright
cloth or calico, the effect of which is ex
cessively pretty. Each mat house is the
property of some one private individual
or of an association, and tho refresh
ments provided aro so costly and abund
nnt that the imputation of excessive eat
ing and immoderate drinking can scarce
ly be resented.
Tho race crowd, without which a race
meeting is as dull as a German steeple
chase, is of largo proportions, with rep
resentatives of nearly every Asiutic state,
but, of course, Chiueso enormously pre
ponderate. Nearly all ure chattering,
and quite all are in high good humor,
enjoying the general senso of holiday.
Not a singlu case of drunkenness did I
see no bickeiing, no rowdyism, and yet
no lack of fun.
The saddling bell rings, tho numbers
are hoisted, a i.hud of hoofs announces
the preliminary canter. Well, w hat of
the racing? Beneath criticism, almost
beneath contempt. The ponies aro from
Australia, Japan or Chefoo doubtless
serviceable for the work of their respec
tive countries, but as racers, wretched,
weedy, groggy, undersized brutes; while
the jockeys are the paraphernalia of
their business, the preposterous length of
their legs, their heuvy weights, their
horse coping idiosyncrasies, and their
indifferent riding.
1 bought a very average type of racer
for I'll 103. In fact, the sport is merely
a peg on which to hang the love of
gambling, which, like the love of drink,
runs very high in this part of tho world.
Innumerable and high prize lotteries are
started, and three legged screws are
merely bought and entered on the off
chance of winning tho 6takes, which, in
addition, are very considerable.
. While ponderiug on the scene, my at
tention is suddenly aroused by au un
wonted hum, bustle and excitement
among the Chinese mob. A race is in
course of being run, but to this incident
they are habitually very iodirltreut.
Something unusual is certainly arousing
them. Here comes the horses. How
queer the jockeys look, how strangely
they are hunched up, how wildly they
throw theiar arms about, how fiercely
they flog, what diabolical faces and,
bless my heart, why, they have got pig
tails streaming in the wind! The puz
zle is explained. It is a race ridden
under special arrangements by Chinese
"inafoos" or grooms tho best race of the
meeting, the only ono which has caused
any real enthusiasm. Roused by tho half
laughter, half -cheers, of their white mas
ters, stimulated by tho cries of their fel
low countrymen "Go it, Fordhnm!" I
once heard on encouraging Chinese lad
shout the mafoos, as they "finish" up
their Walpurgis rido, wild with excite
ment, seem to have lost still further their
semblanco to humanity, and to bo trans
formed' into distorted-visaged, hoiribly
frenzied demons. The race over, how
they strutted about in all tho pride of
jockey caps and jackets, and how they
clung to their costume to the last possi
ble moment?
Tho tenants of the numerous mat-fashioned
grand stands belonging to the
higher class natives have become very
jubilant and vivacious in consequence of
the above-described race, and I avail
myself of an opportunity to enter one
tenanted chiefly by Chincso and Japan
ese ladies. I must confess that my bash
fulness compelled mo to retreat after a
very fow moments from the battery of
their half -wondering. half-scornful
glances at the European intruder, but not
before I had time to remark that their
faces were flushed all over with skilfully
applied pink tints, excepting in patches,
which revealed disagreeably even and in
tensely opaque whiteness. Theireyebrows
were penciled into narrow stiff arches;
their headdress, vests and trousers for
in China all the women wear large, loose
trousers were of variegated colors,
quite ingenious in their contrasts and
brightness; their black huir was dragged
back into lumpy, slimy rolls like jelly
fish; their stature was ugly and stunted,
and their feet, their extraordinary feet,
in many cases had been contracted since
childhood into mere deformed knobs,
hideous to look at, on which they pain
fully tottered for a few yards.
A wide detour round a ditch brings us
into the very thick of China race course
dregs. Gambling booths for large sums,
gambling booths for small sums, gam
bling booths for nick-nacks, gambling
booths for high-priced drinkables, gam
bling booths for low-priced carrion; each
booth with an eager throng of both sexes
and of all ares around it, which renders
circulation difficult.
What is this fragrant and yet some
what sickly smell, a mixture of burning
spills and sandal wood, emanating from
some of the closed chairs conveying home
the Chinese ladies? It is due to the joss
sticks, in consuming which they utilize
their leisure moments, an exercise which
they consider as equivalent to an act of
worship.
Rapidly, yet steadily, the pedestrian,
the sedan chair, nnd the rickshaw lines
of wayfarers stream into the ordinary,
quiet town, just beginning to glitter
with gas jets from the English lamp posts
those ubiquitous lamp posts which, in
common with the gallows, may now be
regarded as the symbol of advancing
civilization. London Cornhil',
A Story About Ferdinand Ward.
George P. Lathrop tells in the St. Louis
Pott-Dispatch the following story about
Ward, the notorious New York financier,
now an inmate of Ludlow street jail in
that city:
A wealthy resident of some prosperous
New England city called on Ward ono
day with a note of introduction from a
mutual friend. In tho course of conver
sation he remarked that he had some
money to invest, and abked Ward if he
couldn't tell him of some chance to put
it where it would bring a good margin
of profit.
AYard said that he didn't know of any
thing just then. He himself had more
money than he knew what to do with,
nnd beside, ho was too busy with some
big scheme of his own to go into any
outside speculation. Of courso, this only
whetted the New England man's nppo
tite for investment, and in the course of
half an hour ho induced the famous finan
cier to accept his check for $58,000, to
be used in ono of tho "blind pools" of
which Grant & Ward made a specialty.
Three or four mouths later the
New England man appeared again.
By that time Ward had entirely for
gotten him nnd his check and it was with
great difficulty that ho could recall his
name und tho amount of his investment.
"I believe there's something due
you?
ho said, ufter a brief converation. Tak
ing down a large ledger he made some
brief calculations, and then observed
with a pleasant smile: "The amount
credited to you on our books is $102,-70-1."
Then to the bookkeeper: "Mr.
Jones, will you kindly draw a check to
Mr. Perkins' order for $102,754?"
Ward calmly turned to his work again,
while his visitor sat gasping for breath,
in the language of the day tho visitor
was "paralyzed." It was some time be
fore he could control himself sutliciently
to usk if there wasn't any chance for him
to reinvest his money and double it
again; but Ward didn't seem anxious,
and at last the stranger took his depar
ture, got his check certified at the Marino
bank, and returned to his native town.
Three days after he walked into Ward's
ollice iu company with four of tho
wealthiest of his townsmen. He bad his
certified check tho samo one Ward had
given him in his pocket, aud his friends
were supplied with checks of their own.
They succeeded in inducing the finan
cier to accept about $3r0,000 for in
vestment in auother "blind pool." That
was exactly ono week beforo the failure
of Giant Ai Ward.
A kind word may often outweigh ia
real worth the wealth of the universe.
A POOR YOUNQ MAN TO HI3 OIUL.
A jewel rare are you, dear Anne,
But can you use a frying pan?
Or get a meal for a hungry moot
Oh, I will wed you if you can,
Sweet Annet
Tour dainty fingers wield a fan,
But can they wash a pot or pnnf
Sweep, bake and brew) Oh, if they can,
I am, in truth, the very man,
Sweet Anne
You work In Kensington, fair Anne,
Play, sing and dance, but If you can
Well mend my socks, none other than
Myself can worship like this man,
Sweet Anne!
Life.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
A big diamond The baseball field.-
Life.
"Stick to it," ns the fly-paper observed
to the fly. Graphic.
Guns are only human, after all. They
will kick when the load becomes too
heavy. Merchant-Traveler.
"I catch on," was probably what the
fish said when he took the baited hook.
"He weighed five pounds," was proba
bly the lie told by the fisherman. De
troit Free Press.
Dude "You love me then, Miss
Lydia?" Lydia "Love is perhaps some
what too much to say. At least I have
sympathy for you, becauso your face re
sembles so much that of my poor dead
Fido."
Some Eastern poetess asks the conun
drum: "Oh, where does beauty linger?"
Our office hours are from eight to six;
mornings, noons and evenings generally
at home, or out walking with the family.
Peck's Sun.
Little Bess to gentleman caller: "Y'ou
ain't black, are you, Mr. M ?" "Black,
child? why no, I should hope not.
What made you think I was?" "Oh,
nothin','cept pa said you was awful nig
gardly." 'Burlington Free Press.
Some one says "only one woman in a
thousand can whistle." Every once ia
a while during tho heated term, and
when the whole world looks dismal and
dreary, some bright ray of hope descends
to cheer tho hearts of men.
General Washington went fishing at
least once. And on that occasion he
caught a trout at least four inches long.
While down at the corner grocery in the
evening, after returning from his angling
tour, he was asked how much tho trout
weighed, when he uttered those memor
able words, viz. : "I cannot tell a lie. It
weighed seventeen and a half pounds."
Norristown llerald.
She'd a lovely little pug
With a very ugly mug;
And she nursed it, and she coddled it, and
kissed it;
She said it was so sweet
It was good enough to eat:
But, alas! one day it happened that the
missed it.
She hunted everywhere,
And she advertised, but ne'er
Did she more set eyes upon that canine
whiner;
But at lait she traced its fate,
And found, cruel to relate,
He'd been eaten by a laundry man of China.
Boston Gazette.
It is said of the Boston girl who got
lost up in the Catskills the other day
that she shouted in an intellectual tone
of voice: "I require assistance from tome
honorable man of culture and refine
ment." When the farmer who found
her was leading her back to tho hotel
she asked him if he was a regular sub
scriber to the Atlantic Monthly, and if
he had read "Natural Laws of the Spiri
tual world." And when he said "No,"
slio forgot to thank him for his assist
ance. New York Mail.
THE LOCUST'S FATE.
A low locust sat in a high locust tree,
And he sang to bis mate, "Zeezee, zeezee:
It's many a year sineo I've sue a tiie bright
sun;
It's many a year since I've had any fun;
And, my dour, U 1 don't paint everything
red,
It will be zee zee
Now you see, zee zee,
Because every green lout iu the country is
dead"
But a sparrow sat up in the same locust
t:'ee;
And much oftener cussed than the locust
was lie.
Aud h mid to his mate, "There's a bug over
there
Such a nice little irorsel for a fond loving
puir;
Just wait here a minute, and I'll take the
boy in.
Now don't slip chip-chip
Ain't he Hip chip-chip ?'
And wlion tboy wero through there was loft
but a skin.
Washington Star.
Greenbacks.
"Old Greenbacks," wns tho soubriquet
given to Secretary Chaso in the army,
from thu green ink with which the backs
of the United Stutes paper money was.
printed. This ink was invented by Stacy
J. Edson, und patented in 1857, us anti
photographic. It could not be photo
graphed on account of its color, and
could not be dislodged by alkalies by the
counterfeiter) to get a completo fac
simile of the bills, and as it was a secret
known only by the American BaukNota
company and the inventor, it was im
possible to counterfeit tho greenback
money. It wus used by many bunks be
fore the war, but was never a leading
feature in the bill; but even if the com
position of the ink had boon known, it
would have been of no use, as the work
could not be copied from tho genuine
bills with any kind of ink. The date of
the patent could be seen on all the bills,
in small print. Old General Spinuer
wanted to have Congress enact a law
making tho counterfeiting of national
notes a capital offence, us was once the
caso in Great Britain, and to huvo them
bear the legend which hud been on the
bills then issued by the Bank of Eng
land: "To Counterfeit is Death." lien;
PrUy Poort.