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gtoshifss Ifotirs.
R" R. &W. E LITTLE, ATTORNEYS AT
LAW Office on Tioga street, Tunkhannock! a
ft. COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON
• Newton Centre, Luxerne County Pa.
GEO S.TUTTOV, ATTORNEY AT LAW
Tunkhonnock, Pa. Office- n Stark's Brick
eek, Ttoga street.
WM. M. PIATT, ATTORNEY AT I.AW, 0
fice in Stark's Brick Block Tioga St., Tunk <
hinnock, Pa.
&{jf Bufhler fjousf,
HAHKISIU'IIG, PKNNA.
The undersigned having lately purchased the
•1 BUEHLER HOUSE " property, has already com
menced such alterations and improvements as will
render this old and popular House equal, if not supe
rior, to any Hotel in the City of HarrisWrg.
A*continuance of the public patronage is refpect
fuilv solicited.
' GEO. J. BOLTON
WALL'S HOTEL,
LATE AMERICAN HOUSE,
TUNKHANNOCK, W YOMINCi CO., PA.
THIS establishment has recently been refitted an
furnished in the latest style Every attention
snll be given to the comfort and convenience of those
•be patronixe the House.
T. B. WALL, Owner and Proprietor.;
Tunkhannock, September 11, 1861.
NORTH BRANCH HOTEL,
MESHOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA
Wm. H. CORTRIGHT, Prop'r
HAVING resumed the proprietorship of the above
Hotel, the undersigned will spare no effort to
fender the house an agreeable place ot sojourn for
•11 who may favor it with their custom.
Win II CORTRIGHT.
f nne, 3rd, 1563
fjtas lotfl,
TOWANDA, 3FA.
p. B- BART LET,
((Late eft. w BFAINARD HOUSE, EI.MIRA, N. Y.
PROPRIETOR.
The MEANS HOTEL, is one of tbe LARGEST
*ad BEST ARRANGED Houses in the country—lt
(a lifted up in the most modern and improved style,
•nd no pains are spared to make it a pleasant and
agreeable stopping-place for all,
r v 3, n2l, ly.
CLARKE,KEENEY, &£O.,
MAHUVACTORKRS AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IN
LADIES*, MISSES' & GENTS'
filkaMassimcre flats
AND JOBBERS IN
HATS, CAPS, FURS, STRAW GOODS,
PARASOLS AND UMBRELLAS.
BUFFALO AND FANCY ROBES,
849 BTIOADWAY,
CORNER OK LEONARD STREET,
B. r. CLARK, i
A. e KKKNEY-, V
-•. LCKENKY. )
• M7 OILMAN;
DENTIST,
ffi C OILMAN, has permanently loeated in Tunk
lL hannock Borough, and respectfully tenderhi
professional services to the citixens of this placeand
surrounding country.
ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIT
IION.
Office over Tattoo's Law Office near the Post
Office
NEW
TAILORING SHOP
Th Subscriber having had a sixteen years prac
tical experience in cutting and making clothing,
now offers his services in this line to the citizeneof
NmoiaoN and vicinity.
"""""" sndhi ' "<"> "•
HOMn J °"' E '
f elect ftatg.
TKETHIED Im&WEk
A FRENCH WILL STORY.
"Is she dead, then ?"
"Yes, madam," replied the gentleman in
brown coat and short breeches,
"And her will ?"
"Is going to be opeqed here immediate
ly by her solicit or."
"Shall we inherit anything ?"
*lt must be supposed so ; we have a
claim."
"Who is that miserably dressed person
age who intrudes herself here !"
"Oh, she," said the little man sneeringly,
"she wont have much in the will. She is
sister to the deceased.
"What that Anne, who wedded a man
of nothing—an officer !"
"Precisely so."
"She must have no small amount of im
pudence to present herself here before a
respectable family.
"The more so, as sister Egerie, of noble
birth, has never forgiven her that mexul-
Anne iu°ved this time across the room
in which the famu'y of the deceased were
assembled. She was pait, her tine black
eyes were filled with precocious wrinkles,
"What do you come here for V Si *id,
with great haughtiness, Madame deVille
boys, the lady who, a moment before, had
been interrogating the little man who in
herited with her.
"Madam," the poor lady replied with
humility, "1 do not come hero to claim a
part of what does not belong to me ; I
come solely to see M Dubois, my sister's
solicitor, to enquire if she spoke of me in
her last hours.'
"What, do you think people Lusy them
selves about you ?" arrogantly observed
Madame de Tillcboys ; 'llie disgrace of a
gn at house —you wedded a man of nothing
a soldier of Bonaparte's.*'
"Madam, my husband, though a child of
the people, was a brave soldier, and what
isbetter.au honest man," observed Anne.
At this moment a venerable personage,
the notary, Dubois made bis appearance.
' Cease," said he, "to reproach Anne
with a union which her sister has lonr for
given her. Anne loved a brave, generous
and good man, who had no other crime to
reproach himself with than his poverty and
the obscurity of his name. Nevertheless,
had he lived, if his family bad known him
as well as I knew him—l, his old friend—
mine would be at this time happy and re
spected."
"But why is this woman lu re ?"
"Because it is her place to be here," said
the notary gravely ; "I, myself requested
her to attend.
M. Dubois then proceeded to open the
will.
"I, being sound in mind and heart, Eg
erie de Damening, retired as a boarder in
the Convent of the Sacred Heart of Jesus,
dictate the following wishes as the expres
sion of my formal desire and principal
clause of my testament ;
•'After my decease there will be found
two hundred thousand francs in money
at my notary's, besides jewelry clothes and
furniture, as also a chateau worth two hun
dred thousand francs.
"In the convent, where 1 have been re
siding, there will only be found my book,
"Ileures de la Vierge," holy volume,which
remains as it was when I took it with me
at the time of the emigration. I desire
that these objects be divided into three
lots.
"The first lot, the two hundred thousand
francs."
"The second lot, the chateau, furniture
and jewels."
"The third lot, my book, Heures de
Tf 1)
Vlerge.
"I have pardoned my sister Anne, the
grief she has caused to us, and I would
have comforted in r in her sorrows if 1 had
known sooner of her return to France. 1
compromise her in my will.
"Madame de Yilleboys, my beloved cous
in shall have the first choice,
"M. Yatry, my brother in law, shall
have the second choice."
"Anne will take the remaining lot.
"Ah !ah !" said Yatry, "sister Egerie
was a good one ; that is rather clever on
her part"
"Annie will only have the prayer book,"
exclaimed Madame de Villeboys laughing.
The notary interrupted he- jocularly.
"Madame," be said, which lot do you
choose ?"
"The two hundred tin rsnrd francs in
money.''
"Have you fully made up your mind?"
"Perfectly so."
The man ot law, addressing himself to
the good feelings of the lady, said : "Mad
ame, you are rich, and Anne fas nothing.
Could you not leave this lot, and take the
book ot prayers, which the eccentricity of
the deceased has placed on a par with the
other lots.
"You must be joking, M. Dubeis !" ex
claimed Madame de V illeboys, "yoq must
really be very dull not to see the intention
of sister Egerie in all this. Our honored
cousin foresaw full well that her book of
prayers would fall to the lot of Anne, who
has the last choice.
"And what do you conclude from that ?'
said the notary,
"I conclude that she means to intimate
to her sister that repentence and prayer
were the ODly help she had to expect in
"TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RIGHT. "—Thomas Jefferson.
TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13, 1866.
this world."
As she finished these words, Madame
de Villeboys made a definite selection of
the ready money for her share. Monsieur
Vatry, as may be easily imagined, selected
the chateau, furniture and jewels as his
lot
" Monsieur Vatry," said M. Dubois to
that gentleman, " Even suppose it had been
the intention of the deceas d to punish her
sister, it would he noble on your part, mil
lionaire as you are, to give up at least a
portion of yours to Anue, who wants it so
much."
" Thanks for your advice, dear sir," re
plied Vatry. "The mansion is situated on
the very confines of my wocds and suits me
admirably, all the more so that it is ready
furnished. As to the jewels of sister Ege
rie, they are reminiscences which she ought
never to part with ."
" Since it is so," said the notary, "my
poor Madame Anna, here's a prayer book
that remains to you."
Anne, attended by her son, a handsome
boy, with blue eyes, took her sister's old
prayer-hook, and making him kiss it after
her, she said :
" Hector, kiss this book, which belonged
to your poor aunt, who is dead, but wiio
would have loved you well had she known
you. When'you have learned to read you
will pray to Ileaven to make you wise and
good ; and happier than your unfortunate
mother.
The eyes of those who were present were
filled with tears, notwithstanding their ef
forts to preserve an appearance of indiffer
ence.
The child embraced the old prayer-book
with boyish fervor, aud opening it, exclaim
ed :
"Oh ! mamma," look "what pretty pic
tures !"
" Indeed !" said the mother, happy in
gladness of her boy.
"Yes. The good Virgin in a red dress,
holding the Infant in her arms. But why,
mamma, has silk paper been put upon the
picture?"
"Sothattlicymightno.be injured, my
dear."
" But, mamma, why are there ten silk
papers to each engraving ?"
The mother looked, and uttering a sud
den shriek, she fell into the arms of M.Du
bois, the notary, who addressed those pres
ent. said :
" Leave her alone; it won't be much ;
people don't die of these shocks. As for
you, little one,"addressing Hector, "give
me that prayer hook, you will tear the en
gravings."
The inheritors withdrew, making vari
ous conjectures as to the cause of Anne's
sudden ill 1103s, and the interest which the
notary took in her. A month afterwards
they met Anne and her son exceedingly
well, but not extravagantly dressed, taking
an airing in a two-horse chariot This
led them to make inquiries, and they
learned that Madame Aune had recently
purchased a mansion for one hundred
francs, and was giving a first-rate educa
tion to her son. The news came like a
thunder-holt upon them. Madame de
Villeboys and M. Vatry hastened to the
notary for explanations. The good Du
bois was working at his desk.
"Perhaps we are disturbing you," said
the arrogant lady.
"No matter, I was in the act of settling
a purchase in the state funds for Madame
Anne."
"What, after purchasing house and
equipage has she still money to invest?"
"Undoubtedly so."
"But where did the money come from ?
"What! not see ?
"When ?"
' When she shrieked on seeing what the
prayer book contained which she inherit
ed."
"We observed nothing."
"Oh ! I thought you saw it," said the
sarcastic notary "That prayer book con
tained sixty engravings, and each engrav
ing was covered with ten notes of a thou
sand francs each.''
"Good . Heavens! exclaimed Vatry,
thunder struck.
"If I had only known it! shouted Mad
ame de Yilleboys.
"You had your choice," added the no
tary, "I myself urged you to take the
prayerbook, but you refused."
"But who could expect to find a fortune
ia a breviary ?"
The two baffled egotists withdrew, their
hearts swollen with passionate envy.
Madame Anne is still in Paris. If you
pass by the Rue Lafitte on a fine summer
evening, you will sec a charming picture
on the first floor, illuminated by the reflec
tion of wax lights.
A lady who has joined the two hands
of her son, a fair child of scarce six years
of age, in prayer before an old book of
"Heures de la Vierge," and for which a
case of gold has been made.
"Pray for me," said the mother.
"And for who else," enquired the child,
"For your father your dear father, who
perished without knowing you, without be
ing able to love you,
"Must I pray to the saints, my moth
er ?
"Yes, m y child, and do not forget a saint
who watches from heaven, and smiles up
on us from above the clouds,"
''What is the name of that saint mam
ma?"
The woman, then watering the child's
bead with her tears, answered :
"Her name is—Sister Eyerie-"
THE LOST CHILD.
All alone the beautiful German . rivers
yon can see, scattered on the overhanging
hills, graly, ivy-covered castles. Some of
them are crumbling into ruins, and some
are as steady and as grand as ever.—
Dreary enough they look to us, as places
to live in, but they have all been pleasant
homes once, for love can make any home
pleasant. In one of these castles, some
years ago, there lived a beautiful lady and
a little giil. This lady's husband was a
soldier, and bad gone away to fight in a
foreign war, and so she was all alone, ex
cept her servants and her child, little
Gretchen; this is the same as Margaret, it
means a pearl, you know, and she was
more precious to her mother than many
pearls, for Lady Gertrude, as the people
called her, loved that li tie girl more than
her own life. Gretchen had a sweet voice
as many of the German children have, and
it made the old castle glad as she ran
about in tbe lonely rooms, singing the
ballads which her mother used to teach
her. .
One time her mother had to go to a dis
tant city, and leave Gretchen with her
nurse. It was the first time in her life
that she had left her darling for so long a
time. Many were the commands which
she gave the servants to look after and care
for her child, hut they were careless, and
Gretchen was left to wander round at her
pleasure, even outside the gates of the
castle. It was nearly sunset one after
noon, when a band of strolling players,
who had been hanging around the castle,
were surprised at seeing Gretcben's pretty
childish figure among them.
Her love of their songs had led Ler to
follow these rovings players so far that
now it was nearly nightfall and she could
not find her way home and with tearful
eyes she begged the old woman who saw
her first to take her to her mamma. It
was growing cold, and her little dress of
thinnest lawn was but* poor protection.
She clasped her hands and cried bitterly :
"Take me home, please take rac home.
I am mamma's pearl, and if I get lost she
will die; see, that is my mamma." and she
drew from hot bosom a iittle miniature of
the Lady Gertrude. It was set with pearls
and brilliants; the old woman's hand
grasped it eagerly, hut Gretcben's look of
agony stopped her.
"We'll take you home," they said, but
your home is a great way from here."
So tliev dressed her like a gipsy child
and led her with them, far away from the
Lady Gertrude, far from the castle by the
shining river, and far from all the pleas
ant things which made up Gretcben's
home. And when she would beg them to
take her home, they would tell her that
she was going toward her home, but ii
was a great way off. They took the min
iature and broke off its exquisite setti/ig,
leaving only the painting that she bore
around her neck still, for the picture was
all she cared for.
The lady of the castle returned, and
there was mourning far ar.d wide for the
lost child, the darling of the castle. They
searched for her for many weeks, hut
their search was useless, and finally they
said she must have been drowned in the
river or lost in the forest, but no one
dared to whisper it to the lady of the cas
tle, for fear it would break her heart. And
so the .light of the castle went out for La
dy Gertrude, and all its beauty faded. —
The roses clustered over the lattice and
hung in crimson wreathes around her win
dow ; and they faded and the green pines
were heavy and white with the snows of
winter ; hut it was all alike to her ; the
light of her life had faded, and she faded,
too.
Her harp was untouched in the hall, for
the only music she could bear to hear was
the music of G'retchen's sweet childish
voice as it sung in her heart forever.—
Years went by, and her soldier lord oame
back fr>ni battle, and tried to comfort her
in her sorrow ; and she went wiih him to
Gretcben's room for the first time since her
loss. The moon shone clear and bright
that evening on the little bed and its snowy
covering and pillows where she had watch
ed her darling in her rosy sleep; ami the
mother knelt by the little bed, and prayed
earnestly that God would give her back
her darling in his own good time, and help
her to say, Thy will he done."
They went out together, the knight Sieg
fried and his lady. And all the land was
full of their deeds of kindne c s. The whole
hope of her life seemed to be that she might
comfort all who were in sorrow, even as
she hoped that God would one day comfort
her. But her sorrow took away her health
and strength, and they went at last, the
knight and his lady, to seek for both in sun
ny Italy. Iler sickness was such as no
change of climate could cure; not even the
sweet blue skies of Florence and the
breath of its thousand flowers. Yet there
was always in her a faint hope that one
day her darling would come back to her.—
It grew fainter every day, and she never
breathed it to any one. She was thinking
about it one pleasant afternoon in early
spring as she lay on a couch by an open
window. They had taken her there, for
she was scarcely able to walk through the
room. She lay watching the busy crowds
in the streets, for it was a feast day, qnd the
flower girls went in and out among the
crowd, bearing their fragrants burdens.
" Take these flowers, lady," said a sweet
voice by the window, and a fair-haired girl
in a festal dress, looked pityingly at her and
laid a spray of snowy japonicas upon the
window seat. She spoke Italian, but not
as the natives speak; and although very
sunburnt, yet her golden hair and blue
eyes looked strangely out of place aincng
the dark-eyed Florentines. Something in
her voice sounded strangely familiar to the
Lady Gertrude —something like the echoes
which had long lingered in her heart. The
flower girl had given the sweetest flowers
in her basket to the sick stranger, and has
tened away, trilling, as she went, a few
notes of a little song, the same that used
to echo through the halls in the old castle
bv tbe river. The lady called her back
and asked her all about her home. Was
she a florentine ? She could remember
but little about her early life. She had not
always lived in Florence. It was a long,
way off; when she lived far north, when
she had a mother. She had her mother's
picture with her, and she drew from % her
bosom tbe little broken miniature.
It was there, just as she herself had
clasped it on Gretcben's neck, so many
years ago; and as the lady looked at it,she
scarcely recognized it for her own picture.
That was so bright and beautiful, and she
herself was worn and faded with long
watching and sorrow. She spoke in Ger
man and called her by the endearing uames
that she used to at home, until at last the
flower girl became conscious of the truth,
and as it flashed on her mind, she sunk be
side the couch and buried her face in tbe
folds of her mother's dress ; and the two
wept together for the joy of their hearts
The sunset died over the river and the stars
came out in the sky while mother ahd child
sat together in happiness too deep for words.
And health and strength came back to the
mother, and before many weeks were pass
ed they went back to Germany,and Gretch
en, their own daughter, went with them to
be the light of the castle, the sunshine of
the Lady Gertrude's heart, as she had been
in years gone by. In that Italian city there
in a little church, a perfect gem of architec
tural beauty ; a grateful mother lavished
upon it all that wealth could procure or the
most perfect taste devise. The altar cloth
is of pure white velvet,and lady Gertrude's
bridal dress, and in its fringes are woven
with cunning artifice the richest of the jew
els which had long been the pride of Lord
Siegfried's family and her own. In the
floor ot the church there is set a little tablet
telling in a tew German words, in antique
characters, the story of Lady Gertrude's
life: " I have found my child."
Patent Love Letters,
DEAR MlSS —After long consideration
nml much meditation upon the great repu
tation you possess in the nation, I have
9trong inclination to become your relation.
If this oblation is worthy 01" observation and
can obtain commisseration, it will be an ag
gradizatiou beyond all calculation of the
joy and exultation of
PETER 11. PORTATION.
P. S.—l solicit the acceptation of the
love and approbation, and propose the an
nexation of the lives and destination of Pe
ter 11. Portation and Maria Moderation.
THE ANSWER.
DEAR PETER. —I Lave perused your ora
tion with "great deliberation, and a little
consideration at the great infatuation of
your weak imagination to show such vener
ation on so slight a foundation. After ma
ture deliberation and serious contemplation
I fear your proclamation is filled with adu
lation, or savings from ostentation to display
your education by an odd enumeration or
rather multiplication of words of like ter
mination, though different in signification.
But as I admire association and am in favor
of annexation I acknowledge mv approba
tion and indeed my inclination to accept
with gratification the love and adoration set
forth in your declaration, and will, with
preparation, love and animation, remain
with resignation and rejoice in the appcla
tion of
MRS. PETER H. PORTATION.
P. S.—l suggest the Information that
we meet in consultation and make some
preparation for the final consummation of
the intended annexation, when I wi.l bear
the same relation to yonrhomc and occupa
tion that Mr. F'eter H. Portation would
then hear to myself.
MARIA MODERATION.
Passage of Freedineu's Hureau Bill.
The House, by a vote of ninety-six to j
thirty two, passed a new Fieedmen's Bu
reu Bill, which provides for the continua
tion of the bureau for two years from the
approval of the act. Only six Republicans
(Messrs, Darling, Davis, Hale, Knykendall,
Marvin and Raymond) voted against it.—
If it should pass the Senate,it is very doubt
ful whether the President will sign it or
not. It is generally believed that he is
opposed to continuing the bureau beyond
the time already fixed for its expiration, be
ing May, 18G7.
t&T A little girl, four years old, was on
her way from church with her father when
they passed a boy splitting wood, and the
father remarked, "Mary do you see that
hoy breaking the sabbalh?" The child
made no reph, hut walked home very tho't
fully and meeting her mother, exclaimed,
"Oh! mother, I saw a boy breaking the
Sabbath with a big axe !"
Jp-W Some of the domestic evils of drunk"
tnness are houses without windows, gar*
dens without fences, fields without tillagei
barns without roofs, children without cloth
ing, principles, morals or manners.
Punch thinks that the last language
spoken 011 earth will probably be the Fin
msh.
TERMS. 82,00 FVH A^TDIMi
THEY WON'T TROUBLE YOU LONG,
Children grow up—nothing on earth
grows so fast as children. It was but yes
terday, and that boy was playing with tops
a buoyant boy. He is a man and gone
now! There is no more childhood for
him. When a beginning is made, it is
like a raveling stocking, stitch by stitch
gives way till all are gone. The bonse
has not a child in it. There is no more
noise in the hall—boys rushing in pell
mell; it is very orderly now. There are
no more skates or sleds, bats, balls or
strings, left scattered about. Things are
neat enough now.
There is no delay of breakfast for sleepy
folks ; there is no longer any task before
you lie down of looking after anybody, and
tucking np the bed clothes. There is no
more dispute to settle, nobody to get off to
school, no complaints, no importunities for
impossible things, no rips to mend, no fin
gers to tie up, no faces to be washed, or
collars to be arrranged ! There was never
such peace in the house! It wculd sound
like music to have some feet clatter down
the front stairs! O, for some children's
noise !
\\ hat used to ail us that we were hush*
ing their loud laugh, checking their noisy
frolic, ami reproving their slamming and
banging doors ? We wish our neighbors
would only lend us a little urchin or two
to make a little noise in these premises.—
A home without children, is like a lantern
and no candle; a garden and no flowers ;
a vine and no grapes; a brook and no wa
ter gurgling and rushing in its channel.—
We want to be tried, to be vexed, to be
run over to hear child life at work with all
its varieties.
Dining the secular days, this is enough
marked. But it is Sunday that puts our
home to the proof. The intervals of pub
lic worship are long spaces of peace. Tbo
family seems made up on that day. The
children arc at home. You can lay vour
hand on their heads. They seem to recog
nize the greater and lesser love—to God
and to friend. The house is peaceful, but
not still. There is a low and melodious
thrill ot children in it. But Sunday comes
too still now. There is a silence that
aches in the ear, ihere is too much room
at the table, too much at the hearth. The
bedrooms are a world too orderly. Thero
is too mnch leisure and too little care.
Alas! what mean these things? Is some
body growing old ? Are these signs and
tokens? Is life waning?
THE T4X BILL,—For kissing a
pretty girl, one dollar.
For kissing a very homely one, two dol
lars the extra amount being added proba
bly for the man's folly.
F or ladies kissing one another, two dol
lars. Ihe tax is placed at this rate in or
der to break up the custom altogether, it
being regarded by our M. C.'s a piece of
inexcusable absurdity.
For every flirtation, ten cents.
Every young man who has more than
one girl is taxed five dollars, „ •
For courting in the kitchen twenty-five
cents.
Courting in the parlor, one dollar.
Courting in a romantic place, five dol
lars, and fifty cents for each offence here
after.
Seeing a lady home from church, twenty
five cents.
Seeing a lady home from the Dime So
ciety, five cents the proceeds to be devoted
to the relict of disabled army chaplains.]
For ladies who paint, fifty cents.
For wearing alow-necked dress,one dol
lar.
For each curl on a lady's head, above
ten, five cents.
For any unfair device for entrapping
young men into matrimony, five dollars.
For wearing hoops larger than eight
feet in circumference, eight cents for each
hoop.
Old Bachelors over thirty are taxed ten
dollars and sentenced to banishment to Utah
Each pretty lady to be taxed from twen
ty five cents to twenty-five dollars, she to
fix the estimate of her own beauty. It is
thought that a very large amount will be
realized from this provision.
Each boy baby, fifty cents.
Each girl baby, ten cents.
Families having more than eight babies,
are not to be taxed, and for twins a pre-:
mium of forty dollars will be paid out of
the funds accruing from the tax on old
bachelors.
Each Sunday loafer on the street corners
or about church doors to be taxed his val-r
ue, which is about two cents.
WHERE HIS HEART WAS.—AS a surgeon
in the army was going his rounds examin
ing patient", he came to a sergeant who
had been hit by a bullet in the left bieast,
right over the region of the heart. The'
doctor, surprised at the narrow escape of
the man; exclaimed, "where in the name
o f goodness could your heart have been ?"
"I guess it .mist have been in my mouth
just then, doctor," replied the poor fejlow,
with a faint and sickly smile,
"I have the best wife in the world,"
said a long suffering husband, "she always
strikes me with the soft end of the broom."
A dentist at work at his avocation al-.
ways looks down in the mouth.
Give your tongue more holidays,
than your hands or eyes.
VOL. 5 NO. 44