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IBY W. BLUR.
ttn APART. •
:Beneath the qUaint old bridge you hear
___The,wavearnake_zausic_as.they_pas • •
.And winding to the elm tree near,
Yon see the pathway through the grass
Where We were want to walk, alasl
The river wanders asof old •
Beneath , the shades of widow trees;
The sunlight waters gleam like gold,
And ripple in the gentle breeze ;.
But I ath.farkom thee Mid thesel
'The sky bends comer broad and blue, •
And, in the soft and mellow light,
You tread the lane our footstePs knew
In forner days, when days were bright;
Doihese,days.bring such sweet delight?
And still that lane with. grasSis green ;
With fragrant:flowers the banks are.fair ;
In golden•gloss and silver sheen
The bees still :daunt the balmy air;
But you will 4.111 to.find me there.
' Agsiin,•perehance, rinay not see
The rustling rows of willow trees
When we strolled underneath at ease:;)
For I am far from thee and these!
, Our joys forsake os. Soon floes spring
Pass by for the summer call:;
:Soon do the birds lose heart to sing,
When - fading leaves in autumn-fall;,-
And winter is,the end of all.
The Way to Rise.
When Hannibal Hamlin was installed
As Collector at Boston, he found, as col
lectors had found in all times betbre him '
:an avalanche of applications for office in
the Custom House. The hardest thing
for Han. Hamlin to do is to say "No" to
a friend—a genial, fun-loving, big-heart
.ed man, he is never so well contented as
when able to make all happy and con
tented about• him—and when he found
,scores of applications for every place he
had to give, ho was excessively fretted.
One day, John Pullman, a quiet, unob
trusive young man, with a bang-up re
.commendation, and who had done his
:share of work at ,primary political meet
ings, ventured to call upon the Collector
to know if his application for an office
.could not be favorably considered. He
vas a good accountant, a ready penman,
.cleared-headed in business,And numerous
responsible men had vouched for his hon..
.or and integrity.
"The only place possibly ,vacant," said
the Collector, "is not a first-class ()flea—,
If you thought that worth your . accept.'
:ante, I might give it to you. .
Pullman thankfully nodded, and signi-'
lied that he would Accept.
"But," said Hamlin, with a comical'
Ler, "I don't like to be making frequent
.cbanges. If you take this place, do you
thin k . you will stick ?"
"If the duty is .within the 'scope of my
Hamlin wrote the oft repeated note to
the store-keeper, and flip youth took it
And went his way.
Now John Pullman had expected a
.clerkship worth at least twelve hundred
.dollars -per annum, and he was not a lit
tle taken aback when he discovered that
,he had only been appointed a "Light
'Weight Mover," at a salary of seven-hun
-Aired and fifty dollars. In.short his posi
tion was among those unkempt sons of
toil who trundle barrows, and are yclep
But John Pullman '.was net to be so
onsily. mashed Out.:-.He'scratched his head
and meditated. lielittw'the,point at once.
"Has this place lieen tendered to any
body_ before?" he staked.
"Yes," answered the Colonel. "A doz
en, at least, have looked at it, and let it
.drop within two weeks."
"Very well," said Pullman, shutting his
mouth hard, we'll see ! I told the Collec
tor I'd stick, and I will. He wont get rid
of me in that way.
"Then you'll go to work ?"
~ye , ./ •
The Colonel liked the young man's grit,
.and was inclined to favor hint ; yet J ohn
Pullman pulled off his coat of broadcloth
.and went at work. He took a barrow,
and made a turn mound the store-room.
During the remainder of that day he
made himself generally useful., and on the
following morning he Was at his post in
At the expiration of about a mouth, as
Jack Pullman stood at the window of the
office of the Delivery Clerk, he saw the
Collector coming across the street, from
the Custom House.
"Good morning, Mr. Hamlin."
Hamlin stopped and beheld a young
man in his shirt sleeves, with a barrow,
and on the barrow a bale of goods; and
the young man was nodding and smiling
in a friendly, cheerful way.
Han. Hamlin never forgets a face, nor
is he apt to forget a name which he has
once heard. .He recognized the youth, and
"Pullman is this you ?"
"Yes, sir," said the light 'weight mov
er, dropping the barrow, and taking the
Collector's extended hand. "You didn't
expect to finch' mehere ?"
"Well—no—l hardly thought you would
"But I have, sir ; and I hope, if I stick
.3ong enough, I may take root and grow,''
Hamlin laughed heartily, and a ,fen;
elements later he was in close conflab
with the store-keeper.
'That was on Wednesday. On 'the fol
lowing Monday morning John Pullman
received a note from the Collector inform
ing him that he had 'been appoirited to a
responsible and important clerkship.
'The Widow's Son.
In a ?little brown, one-story, wooden
.house, nestled among the trees at the foot
of a hill, lived the Widow Wood. She
ive. alraloue, save Wattle oy, I , er
only child, Johnny. Her husband was a
poor, bard-working man, who had con
trived to pay for their little home,having..
one cow, and kept hie garden in good 'or
der, when he was suddenly : removed by
death. Johnny was too young to remem
ber his father, and his •neighbors lived at
a distance, and so he and his widowed
The school-house was far off, toe, but as
soon as his little legs had got long
enough, Johnny was_found at school.—
Early in the morning, washed and comb
ed, he would kiss his mother for a long
day, with his little dinnei basket hung
on his arm, while she, charging him to be
"a good boy," would turn back to her
lonely home, to spin or to weave, or to do
something by which to earn a pittance
toward their support. Sometimes she
would go out to meet him toward night
when she thought it time for him to come
home, and then, hand in hand, little
how the boys called him a `babyil and.`a
"milksop,' because he stoutly defended'
his:mother, and then how Miss Pierson
praised him as her model little boy.'
don't think they ought to laugh at
us if we are poor, do you mother?'
'Why, no, not if we does well as am
'And it's no disgrace to eat rye pies, is
`Cartainly net, if we cannot afford to
"They throw and pull me around, they
do, because•l am little and feeble. I.
can't fight them ; but I tell you what,
mother, I'll grow, and I'll be a good
scholar, and be it doctor or a lawyer, and
then we will live in a big house, and you
shall dress like a lady,and I'll have good
clothes, and we'll eat wheat, and see if
they will laugh any more!'
`Well, Johnny, you be a good boy, and
learn to love your books, and I will do
all I can fir you.
The widow wiped a tear silently from
her face, and felt that this little confiding
boy was dearer to her than all the wealth
is the world.
So she silently toiled and denied her
self everything possible,. and kept her
child at school. When he had learned
all they could teach him in the little red
school- house,she sent hiin to an academy.
He was the poorest boy in the school,and
poorest dressed and fed. People wonder
ed why Widow Wood should 'kill herself
with work, just to keep that great boy at
school.' They said, 'he had better be
earning something for his mother.' But
the widow kept silent, and toiled on. At
length the time came when Johnny was
ready to go to college. Could she ever
meet the expense? She had earned and
saved something every year by her loom,,
in view of this possibility.
After he had entered college, she milk
ed and drove her own cow to pastare,cut
her own wood all winter, and one day in
the week, sometimes two, went out wash
ing. Soon it began to be whispered
around that 'the widow's boy was doing
well;' and then 'that he was a fine scholar,
and the day he graduated, the first
scholar in his class, the poor mother took
his arm after the exercises of the day
were over, and with tears and smiles
walked with .him through the streets of
the city, the happiest mother in all that
A few years after, she saw him taking
a commanding position in his profession
—one of the most honored and distingu
ished men in our country. She did see
him in his elegant house, surrounded by
a great library, and a most gifted family
of children, and she did live with him,
and lean upon him as a strong staff, but
I am not sure that she was really hap
pier than when chopping .at the ,wood
pile, that she might save a little to help
her boy through college. They are both
dead now; but Ilnew him well, and his
invaluable writings are now on my table
before me. Such is the simple but trite
story of 'The Widow's Son.'—Rev. John
Todd., D. D.
HOW TO Rise IN THE WORLD. —ln
1855 a young gentleman registered his
name in the largest hotel in the city of
Louisville, Kentucky. Ho had a pretty
good wardrnbe,sueh as young men usually
have, including a gold watch' and chain.
He was in search of an occupation. At
the expiration of two weeks he took an
inventory of his personal effects: "Out
of money and no business." He had a
brief interview with the proprietor of the
hotel. His trunk of clothing was left as
security for his board bill ; he hypothec
ated his watch for the loan of ten dollars,
and having kissed the tip ends of his
choral fingers to a kind and sympathetic
landlord, he 'went diving for the bottom.'
He found 'bottom' on Water street,where
a steainer was being discharged of cotton
by Dutchmen, negroes, and yankees.—
Having purchased a heavy pair of boots,
a blue shirt and overalls, he commenced
rolling and piling cotton at the rate of
five cents per bale. In three weeks he
was promoted to the position of 'marker'
with a salary of $45 per month, and at
the expiration of nine mouths he had a
right to grow mellow over a salary of
$125 per month. To-day this gentleman
is one of the largest business operators in
Bay street. No moral need be given.—
The story speaks its own.
';kis vs • 1 I DI, :7, >II" 2 C
WA.YNESBORO, FRANKM t'OUNTY, PA., THURSDAY., JUNE 11, 1874.
Provestbs of 'Sbakspeare. .
There is no virtue like necessity.
Courage mounteth with occasion.
ale tires betimes, that,epurs too fastrbe•
Small showers last s laug, but sudden
steins are short.
With cager .feeding, food doth choke
Though death be poor, it ends a motel
woe. . -
The ri est fruit falls first.
, Out of this nettle danger we pluck the
No word like 'pardon,' for kings mouths
Tell truth and shame the devil.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a
A tem can die but once, we owe God
The first bringer of unwelcome mews
_bath_but a losing office.
Grief is proud and makes his owner
When law, can do no . ri,
lawful that lays b
/awful t at law bar no wrong. •
Oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
makes ill deeds done. -
Most any subject is the fattest for soil
Wise hearing or ignorant carriage is
caught, as men take diseases, one of an
other; therefore let men take heed of their
_ _ -
How ill—white hairs become a fool and
There is some sou/ of goodness in things
evil, would men observing distil it out.
Nice customs caresey to great kings.
A crafty knave does need no broker.
Thrice is he armed that has his quarrel
It is a great sin to swear unto a sin,
but greater sin to keep a sinful oath:
The thief cloth fear each bush an offi
The bird that bath been limed in a
bush,, with trembling wings misdoubteth
Small herbs have grace, great weeds.do
Two may keep counsel, putting one a
What must be shall be.
He that is robbed, not. wanting what is
stolen, let him not know't, and he's not
robbed at all.
They laugh that win.
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prow
A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish
Who covers faults, at last with shame
Anger bath a license.
Love reasons without reason.
You cannot make gross sins look clear.
To revenge is no valor, but to bear.
He's truly valiant that can wisely
The learned pate ducks to the golden
When beggars die there are no comets
Cowards die teeny times before their
deaths;- the valiant never taste of death
As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity.
The evil that men do, lives after them,
the good is oft interred with their bones.
Some that smile have in their hearts
millions of mischief.
There are no tricks in plain and simple
There's beggary in the love that can
be reCkon ed.
Every time serves for the matter that
is then born in it.
Some innocents escape not the thun
'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
than with an old one dying.
He that will have a cake out of the
wheat, must needs tarry the grinding.
In the reproof of chance lies the true
proof of men.
'Tis mad idolatry to make the service
greater than the God.
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly
may easily untie.
He that is proud eats up himself.
Fear makes devils of cherubim.
To fear the worst oft cares the worst.
To be wise and love exceeds man's
Perseverance keeps honor bright.
One touch of nature makes the whole
Those wounds heal ill that men do
The end crowns all.
Thanks, to men of noble minds, is
The raven cloth not hatch a lark.
Few love to hear the sins they love to
'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to
Home-keeping,youths have ever home
They do not love that do not show
Trutivhath better deeds than words to
Timid is the nurse and breeder .of all
Use loth breed a habit in a man.
Sometimes we are devils to ourselves
GOLDEN SALVE RECIPE.--Two quarts
raw linseed oil, three pounds beeswax.—
Melt thoroughly together and turn into
tin boxes. This is the best salve known
for burns, scalds, flesh wounds, old sores,
piles, ect. To make small quantities the
same proportion as above is required.
Knowledge is a comfortable and neces
sary retreat and shelter for us in an ad
vanced age; audit* we do not plant it while
young, it will give us no shade when we
They tin who tell us Love avn die,
With life all other passions fly ;
All others are but vanity.
In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell,
Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell.
Earthly these passions of low earth,
They perish where they have their birth;
Its holy•flame forever burneth :
Too often earth a troubled guest,
At times•deceived, at times opprest ;
It here is tried ant purified,
.And hath in Heaven its perfect rest:
It soweth here with toil and care, •
But the harvest time of Love is there.
Oh! when a mother meets on high
The babe she lost in infancy,
Bath she not then for all her fears,
FTIR. -- da — y — dfwW . the watchffliNnight,
For all her sorrows, all her tears,
Aig overpayment of delight ?
uiet Lor the
Where Does Water Come From.
ht, let it be
Row natural for a child, standing by
the banks of a river, to inquire where all
the ;water comes from? To inquire why
grass is green.? what makes it grow ? luAv
is it that birds can fly ? why fishes are
not drowned in the sea? or where all the
sand comes from they see on the shore?
They will ask also,where the rain or snow
elouds2 or is it that the=grass _ is=so.
wet , with--dew ?---Thousands of questions
like these are asked by thoughtful chil
dren, and what-parent would not wish to
be able to give them satisfactory answers.
But to answer these questions satisfactorily
requires a knowledge of natural phenom
ena, and the causes producing them. If
any one of whom the.child asked, while
standing by a river's bank, "Where does
all the water come from ?" were to take
him to his home, however humble, and
show him the vapor rising from the water
boiling for tea, and ask him to put a cool
plate or glass in the path of the vapor for
a few* moments, end then look at it and
notice the drops of water condensed upon
it, and make him understand that these
drops were formed by the vapor.
Then explain to him that a great part
of' the earth was covered with water from
which vapor was always rising, and that,
when it rose into the utmost regions of the
air, it was condensed into drops of water,
just as the vapor had been by the cold
plate, and that when thus condensed it
fell in rain. That a great part of this
rain inn on the surface of the ground,
forming little streams and brooks, which
were gradually joined by others, till those
united streams formed rivers which by
the ceaseless flow, which has ]ed to his
question, gave back to the ocean the wa
ters which had been raised from them in
vapor by the heat of the sun, just as the
vapor had been raised from the water
boiling for tea, by the heat of the fire.—
What 'child would readily forget such a
lesson ?' Or what child, constantly so re
plied to, could fail to grow up an intelli
gent observer of all the natural vvents oc
curring around him.
Maxims for Working Men.
A good advertisement for a'working
man is a seat in church.
The savings bank is a safe debtor.
Fifty cents for a good lecture is better
than half that sum for a circus.
. Dress neatly. A well clothed
commands favor and respect, while one
in slovenly attire can hardly borrow his
neighbor's saw horse.
If you wish to porsonallji6compsehe.nd
the completest meaning of the old adage
••-a fool and his money are soon parted
—buy a lottery ticket.
Never sacrifice money for What people
will say: It is better to buy a fair piece
of beef for fifteen cents a pound and leave
the sirloin for some other man,who would
buy year kind except for tfie name.
Be honest; a stove cold is better than
a stove hot with stolen fuel.
.The laboring man holds the same rela
tion ,to the merchant, manufacturer, at
torney, physician, and minister, that the
locomotive does to ( !). tmin of elegant and
well filled cars; they would stand still
forever if the engine did not move them.
There is many an bonest,hard working
poor man, who rises himself and calls his
family before sunrise, three hundred and
sixty-five days in a year. In nine cases
out of ten,when his children arrive at his
age they will be called up by servants.
A meerschaum pipe and bank book al
ways quarrel, and the upshot of the en
counter generally 'one puts the
other out of doors.
Work harder at drilling rocks, for in
stance, if your employer never visits you
than if he frequently does. Re will know
of your faithfulness when he pays for
The poverty of childhood is more fre
quently than otherwise the stepping stone
JUSTICE AND MERCY-NO obligation
cf justice does force a man to be cruel or
to use the sharpest sentence. A just man
does justice to everything, and then, jibe
be also wise, he knows there is a doubt
of mercy and compassion due to the in
firmaties of man's nature,; and that it is
to be paid, and he that is cruel and un
gentle to a single ,person.' and does the
worst to him dies in his debt and is un
just. pity and forbearance, and long suf
ferinz and fair interpretation, and excus
ing our brother, and talking in the best
sense, and passing the gentlest sentence,
are as certainly our duty, and owing to
every duty that does offend and can re
pent, as calling to account can bo owing
to the law, and are first to be paid, and
he that does not is an unjust person. '
The Land of Palestine
Palestine sits in sackcloth and .ashes.
Over it broods the spell of a curse that
has withered its .fields and fettered its en
ergies. Where Sodom and Gomorrah rear
ed their doomes and towers, that solemn
.sea now floods the plain, in whose .bitter
waters no living thing exists—over .whose
waveless surface the blistering air hangs
Motionless and .dead—about whose bor
ders nothing grows but weeds and scatter
ed tufts of eaneargLthat treacherous_
fruit that promises refreshment to parch
lips, but turns to ashes at the touch.
Nazareth is forlorn. About the ford of
Jordan, where the hosts of.lsrael mitered
the Promised Land with songs of rejoic
ing, one finds only a squalid.camp of fan
tastic Bedouins of the desert; Jericho,
the accursed, lies a mouldering ruin to
day, even as Joshua's miracle left it more,
than three thousand years ago ; Bethle
their humiliation, . have nothing about
theta now to remind one that they once
knew the high honor of the Saviour's
presence ; the hallowed, spot where the
shepherds watched their flocks,and where
the_angel's sang "Peace on earth, good
will to men," is untenanted by any liv
ing creature, and unblessed by 'any fett.
ture that is pleasant to the eye. Renown
ed Jerusalem itself, the stateliest name iu
history, has lost all its ancient grandeur,
and is become a- pauper village; the rich.
es of Solomon are no longer there to cont
+the aclintration of orients queens; t e
, Avon - derful-temple, -which was the pride
and glory of Israel, is gone, and the Ot
toman crescent is lifted above the spot
where, on that most memorable day in
the annals of the world, they reared the
The noted Sea of Galilee, -where Roman
fleets once rode at anchor i and disciples of
the Savicur sailed in their ship, was long
deserted by the devotees of war and com
merce, and its borders are silent wilderness;
Capernaum is a shapeless ruin; Margdala
is the home of beggared Arabs; Bethsaida
and Chorazin have vanished from the
earth, and thedesert places" round about
them, where thousands of men once glist
ened to the Saviour's voice and ate the
miraculous bread, sleep in the hush of a
solitude that is inhabited only by birds of
prey and 'skulking times.
Palestine is desolate and unlovely. And
why shotild it be' otherwise ? Can the
curse of a Deity beautify a land? •
Ax Otno GI/um—A Cleveland paper
relates a number of anecdotes illustrative
of the strength and size of Abner Mal
rath, whom it dubs a giant. It appears
that Mcllrath is sixty-one years of age,
and is six feet seven and a half inches
standing in his hoots, fairly proportioned
in form, without a pound of waste flesh.
Hewes and is a giant in mascular strength
as well as physically. He has lifted 1,700
pounds of iron, and a blow with his mas
sive fist and long arm was so powerful
that on 'one occasion, when some twelve
or fifteen sailors went out to his place to
"raise a muss," he thrashed .the whole lot
and threw them one• by - one out of the
door just as one could throw so many ba
bies, and during. that operation he dared
not double his fist for fear his blows might
prove fatal to some of the rowdies. "Abe'
formerly carriedon the business of a coop
er, and used to come to townNvith his load
of barrels. On one occasion, while at the
"Red Tavern," lately known as the "Jack
son House," and which" is now torn down,
a snob front town who was out there with
his turnout in the shape of a livery horse
and buggy, got into a difficulty with Abe,
and, having insulted him in some way or
another, Abe resented it by lifting the
buggy right up and straddling it across
the fence, and then got on his wagon and
drove off to town, whistling as though
nothing was the matter, and 'caving the
luckless dandy to get his buggy off the
fence •as best he was able.
OYSTERS. GROWING ON TRESS.-A cor
respondent writing of Cuba, says ; "For
several years I resided in that island, and
traveled there more than the ordinary
run of foreigners, and have several times
come across scenes which many people
would consider curiosities- 7 one in partic
ular. No doubt the reader will open his
eyes at oysters growing on trees. Often
have I seen the sneer of unbelief by the
ignorant when the fact had been mention
ed ; but grow they'do, and in immense
quantities, especially in the southern part
of the island. I have seen miles of trees,
the lower stems and branches of which
were literally covered with them,and ma
ny a good meal have I enjoyed with very
little trouble of procuring. 1 simply plac
ed the branches over the fire, and, when
opened, I picked them out with a fork or
pointed stick. The peculiar shellfish are
indigenous in-lagoons and swamps on the
ooast, and as far as the tide will rise and
the spray fly, will they .cling to the low
er parts of the mangrove trees, sometimes
four or five deep, the mangrove being one
of . the very few trees that flourish in salt
. AmsrrroN.—That is the bravest ambi
tion which is vigorous enough to overleip
the little life here. The highest aspira
tions seeks not fame. Whatever we can
.do of good in this world, with our facul
ties or our affections, rises to God as ha
:inanity's going of praise. Amid the mil
lion tongues ever joining to swell the holy
music of that song, are those which sound
loudest and grandest here,the tones which
travel sweetest zindpurest up the eternal
throne, which mingle in the most perfect
harmony with the anthem of the angel
choir! May not the most obscure life bo
dignified by a lasting aspiration, and de
(heated to a noble aim ?
In travelling from this wor . hitothe nest
the road is no wider for thqrriinee than
Made to "See It
'I can't see it,' said Buffer. 'Nobody
reads all these little advertisements. it':
preposterous to think it.
4 But,' said the editor, 'you read mr , at
'And if there's anything that you par
ticularly want you look for it?'
'Well, among the thousands _upon_
thousands 'who help to make up this busy
world of ours everything that is, printed
is read. Sneer as you please, I assure
you that printer's ink is the true open
sesame to all the business'success,'
And still Buffer couldn't see it. Ho
didn't believe that one-half of those little
crowded advertisements were ever read.
`Suppose you try the experiment,' said
the editor. lust slip in an advertise
mon things in the world. For the sake
of the test .1 will give ,it two insertions
free. Two will be enough ; and you, may
have it jammed into any out of the way
nook of my p a p e r you shall 'select: Two
insertions of on ly' two lines. Will you
Buffer said of course :he would try it.
And he selected the plaCe where he would
have it published—crowded in under the
head of 'Wants.' And he waited and- saw
a proof of his advertisement, which ap
peared as follows :
an e.— goo. ouse + og. •ppy to
Buffer, 575 Towser st. between_6_ and
Buffer went away smiling and nodding.
On the following -morning he opened his
paper, and after a deal of hunting he
fbund his advertisement. At first it did
not seem at all conspicuous. Certainly
so insignificant a paragraph, buried .in
such a wilderness of paragraphs, could
not attract notice. After a time, however,
it began to look more noticeable to him.
The more he looked at it the plainer it
grew. .Finally it glared at him from the
closely printed page. But that was be
cause he was the person particularly in
terested. Of course it would appear con
spicuous to him. But it could not be so
That evening Air. Buffer was just sit
ing°. down to tea (Buffer was a plain, old
'fashioned man, and took tea at six) when
his door bell was rung. The servant an
nounced that a man was at the door with
a dog to sell.
'Tell him I don't want one.'
Six times Buffer was interrupted while
taking tea by men with dogs to sell.—
Buffer was a man who would not lie. He
bad put his foot in, and he must take it
out manfully. The twenty-third appli
cant was a small boy with a small girl in
company, who had a ragged, dirty poodle
for sale. Buffer bought the poodle of the
boy, and immediately presented it to the
girl, and then sent them' off.
To the next applicant he was able
truthfully to answer—'don't want any
more. I've bought one.'
The stream of continued until
near ten o'clock, at shich hour Buffer
locked up and turned off the gas.
On the following evening, as Buffer
approached his house, he found a crowd
assembled. He counted thirty-nine men
and boys, each one of whom had a dog
in tow. There were dogs of every grade,
size, and color, and growl, and howl.—
Buffer addressed the motly multitude,
and informed them that he had purchas
ed a dog.
'Then what d'yer advertise for?'
And Buffer got his hat knocked over
his eyes before he reached the sanctuary
of his home.
Never mind about the trials and tribu
lations of that night. Butfer had no idea
that there were so many dogs in exist
ence. With the aid of three policemen
he got through alive. On the next mor
ning he visited his friend the editor and
acknowledged the corn. The advertise
ment of `wanted' was taken out, and in
the most conspicuous place, and in glar
ing type; he advertised that he didn't
want any more dogs. And for this ad
vertisement he paid. Then he went home
and posted over his door—'Gone into the
country: Then lie hired a special police
man to guard kg property, and then he
locked pp and went away with his fam
From—that day Josephus Buffer has
never been heard to express doubts con
cerning the efficacy of printer's ink ;
neither has he .asked: 'Who reads ad
THE MULLEN WEED.—The Westches
ter (Pa.) News 'comes to the defence of
this much abused weed, and testifies that
like all other creations in nature, it has
its uses :
It is something of a wonder to •find
:anybody saying a word in favor of this
much despised weed. We have found a
gentleman, however, who is willing and
:ready to testify to its virtues, and who
, has found in it a remedy for pulmonary
consumption. He says, had commenced
bleeding at the lungs,and the hectic flush
was already on the cheek. After trying
this remedy to my own satisfaction
I have thought that true philanthropy
required that•l"should let it be known to
the world. • It is the common =lien,
steeped strong and sweetened with coffee
sugar and drank freetyleine herb should
be gathered...Sfure tim"2sth of July if
convenient. Young or old plants are
good, if:dried in the shade and kept in
dean paper bags. ,
—They are ten million women in Amer
ica, and yet Tom. Hutton, of Georgia;
hung himself on account of a girl fifteen
years old, • • -
Prosperity is the thing in the world we
ought to trust ,the least.
The nick of time—a:wrinkle.
82.00 PER YEAR.
u t a IT as r.
Why . is grasslike.: ,ienknife?les.; - e)
the spring brings on • blades.
Why is a blush like a little girl? -Be--
, cause it becomes a woman. •
When does the chair dislike .yon . ?—
When it can't bear you.
- 4 wyers—generally—sleepr-wellTib '
makes but little difference to" them which
-side they lie on.
It is said the prettiest girl in Harris
burg is a newspaper carrier. She carries
'em in her bustle.
A TOAST.—Woman : the last and best
of the series—if we have her for a toast,
we won't ask for any but-her.
A — Maine 'woman has hair seven feet
and five inches:long— too long to be avail
able for use in butter.
Why are the ladiestbe biggest thieves
in existence? 'Because they steal their
petticoats, bone their stays, crib their ba
bies and hook their dressee.
A. French doctor. says that a vapor
bath, at a temperature of 144 degrees,
on seven consecutive dayi, will cure hy
drophobia. Why not boil the man at
Lawyer's fees—Bewing to a client, $5::
shaking hands with "him, $10; inquiring:
about Lis health, $2O; saying good-bye, i
$lO. Total for thirty seconds' nterview,
A Sunday-school scholar being asked
what became of men who deceive their
fellow-men, promptly exclaimed, "They
go to Europe."
A man may forget his business, his fa
mily, and all his sacred obligations of
life, but he always remembers where he
got that counterfeit bill.
• Another remedy has been discovered foi
rheumatism in London. It is a hot sand
bath. This makes 7,348 remedies—all in
Irishman, being asked in.court for
his certificate of marriage, showed a big
scar on his head about the site of a small
WHERE BID YOLT , •6ET'ZHAT CHICKEN?
—"Here's your nice roast chicken ," cried
an aged colored man, as' the cars . stopped
At a North Carolina railway station.
"Here's your nice roast chick's 'n taters,
all nice and hot," holding up his plate and. ,
walking the platform. '
" Where did you get that chicken,uncle?"
asked a passenger.
Uncle looked at the intruder sharply
and then turned away, crying,
"Here's yer nice roast ehick'n i gentrm'n„
all hot; needn't go in de house for dat." '
"Where did you get that chicken?" re
peated the inquisitive passenger.
"Look-a-yer," says uncle, speaking pri
vately, "Is you from de Ned?"
"Is you a friend ob de culled man?" •
"I hope I am." • . ,
"Den don't von nebber ask me were :1 1
got that chick'n agin. Here's yer nice.
mast chick'n,. all." . ,
The train started. - .
A few months since a man who called
himself a conjurer entered a tavern in a
country town, and asked the company as-,
eembled in the bar-room if they would•
like to witness one of his tricks.- The fel
low looked cold, and Unary, so the land-'
lord gave assent'and stated that he.knew
a few tricks hiniseif, and had seen•many
wonderful ones. The conjurer then re-.
quested the company to place three hats
upon the table, which being done, he de
sired the landlord to hring.a loaf of bread,,
and the stranger cut three pieces (nearly
half a pound each) and placed one upon
each hat. He then stated he could do the
trick much more comfortably if he liact ,
three pieces of cheese. The cheese being
brought, he cut three good-sized, pieces
and 'placed one by each piece of bread.
Now for the grand trick. The conjur-`
er turned up.the cuff of his writ, took 'nil'
his neckerchief and unbuttoned his shirt
collar, and stated that he would. now pro-.
teed to eat the three pieces of bread and
cheese, and afterward bring allsinder one
hat. He commenced the bread and cheese,
and after eating two pieces, declared he
could not proceed with the trick unless
he had something to drink.. The landlord
wishing the wonderful trick should be
proceeded with for the amusement, of his
customers, immediately gave the fellow a,
quart of ale, and the third piece of cheese
soon followed.the first two pieces.
Ncw the grand trick was to be disclos
ed, and the landlord and his :companions
waited to see it. The'conjurer'then said :
"Now., gentleman, which hat shall I •
bring the bread and cheese under.?'!
The landlord pointed out his own hat,
wishing it to take part in the trick as
,well as his bread and cheese. It being so
arranged the conjurer again said :
"Gentlemen, I have eaten the bread'
and cheese, and now I will Luring it tin
der the landlord's hat." And he imme
diately placed the hat upon his head, and,
continued: "Nowsou will s perceive it :is
under the hat without any deception.
There were shouts of laughter from alt
the company except the landlord, 'who
was minus three pieces of bread and cheese
and a quart of ale.
The fellow left the house without mak
ing a collection, he being well satisfied
vrith the landlo rd's generosity.
boy returning to his work afteedin-•
was asked by his employer if he bade,
no °tiler motion than that. "Yes,"
I the 'boy, "but its a slower ome."