fbe 31 rfit Itmtdi Democrat
m v SICKXiQCn, Proprietor
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flusiitfsjs Duties.
W fc W EIJTTLE, ATTORNEYS AT
LAW Offict on Tioga street, TunkhannockPa.
~S. COOPER, PHYSICIAN & SURGEON
• Newton Centre, Luzerne County Pa.
GEO. S. TUTTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW
Tunkhonnock, Pa. Office' n Stark's Brick
eck, Ttoga street. ______
WM. M. PIATT, ATTORNEY AT LAW, O
fice in Stark's Brick Block Tioga St., Tuuk
hennock. Pa.
Sifl fUfpfC IflUSf,
HARRISHUIIG> PENNA.
The undersigned having lately purchased the
ii BCEHLER HOUSE " property, has already com
menced such alterations and improvements as will
render this old and popular House equal, if not supe
rier to any Hotel in the City of Harrisburg.
A*continuance of the public patronage is refpect
wlicited. cEo } BOITOS .
"WALL'S HOTEL,
LATE AMERICAN HOUSE,
TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA
THIS establishment has recently been refitted an
furnished in the latest style Every attention
will he given to the comfort and convenience of those
wk* pntroniie the Houe.
T. B. WALL, Owner and Proprietor ;
Tuakhanneck, September 11, 1861.
NORTH BRANCH HOTEL,
MESUOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA
Win. H. COKTRIGHT, Prop'r
HAVING resumed the proprietorship of the above
Hotel, the undersigned will spare no effort to
reader the house an agreeable place ot sojourn for
all who may favor it with their custom.
3 Win. H CORTRIGHT.
fate, 3rd, 1863
~ SJfaits ftatel,
TOWANDA, PA.
D- B. BARTLET,
(Late of t. HOCSE, ELMIRA, N. X
PROPRIETOR.
The MEANS HOTEL, i- one of the LARGEST
wad BEST ARRANGED Houses in the country—lt
is fitted up in the most modern and improved style,
aad no pains are spared to make it a pleasant and
agreeable stopping-place for all,
T 3, n2l, ly-
CLARKE,KEENEY, &0 0.,
MANUFACTURERS AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IW
LADIES', MISSES' & GENTS'
& ilk aiti) Cassimere f|ats
AND JOBBERS IN
HITS, CAPS, FURS, STRAW GOODS,
PARASOLS AND UMBRELLAS.
BUFFALO AND FANCY ROBES,
R49 BROADWAY,
CORNER OP LEONARD STREET,
as w
. r. CLARE, J
A. E EBBNET, >
a. LEEENEY. J
M. GILMAiN,
MOlLMAN,kaspeTanently located in Tonk
• hanaock Borough, and respectfully tenderhi
professional services to the citizens of this placeand
■arro undine country.
ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIT
110N.
Office over Tutton'c Law Office near the Post
Office
NEW
TAILORING SHOP
The Subscriber having bad a sixteen years prae
%iea! experience in cutting and making clotaiog,
aew effers his services in this line to the citiiensof
NTCBOLSON aad vicinity.
Them wishing to get Fiu will find his shop the
ptaoe to get them.
JOEL, R. Sinew.
-SMMto '
Select
His^vvrrs^Son^
I,
I certainly thought he was "out of his
head," He had such peculiar ways, and
said such peculiar things ; and he went
about as if he was in a somnambulic state
almost; that is, I don't quite mean that;
but he never seemed to take the same no
tice of what happened about him that other
men do. And as to his ever being surpris
ed at any thing, I never knew him to show
surprise on but one occasion in his life. —
What that occasion was, I shall naturally
mention before I am done.
His name was Joseph Harrison, and he
was a student at the Academy in Sandford
—one of the style of academies that seem
to have nearly gone out of date now,where
both sexes were taught under the same
roof. I attended the Sandford School. The
Principal's house was on the corner across
the way from the academy, ana he board
ed a dozen or so of tba stuJents. 1 was one
of these boarders.
I shall never forget the day Mr. Harrison
came to the house to board. I was sitting
on the second-floor piazza, studying. It
was late in a summer afternoon. As he
entered the gate I leaned over to k)pk at
him, and when he was just undern&uh, 1
chanced to drop my book. It struck him
on the shoulder, and fell thence to the
ground. He turned and looked at it
quietly, and then poked it aside with his
big cane.
What does he carry that big cane for ?
thought I; and why don't he pick up my
book, or look up at me, or do any other
thing that a rational being would !
He rung the bell, and 1 saw no more of
him till tea time, lie sat directly opposite
me at the table. Would you believe it, he
never looked at me once —nor, indeed, at
any one else,it seemed—which was the rea
son, perhaps, why 1 looked at him more
than ever I did at any other young mail in
my life —in the same length of time.
After tea, we gatli red in the parlor, as
we were in the habit of doing, and lie was
introduced to me. lie bowed, and then, for
the first time, looked at me—or rather, he
looked through me—as if he saw something
behind me, and I were as transparent as
glass. Then he smiled, and turned away.
I confess I was provoked at the manner
of the young man. What amused him, I
should like to know. When Belle Harrison
asked me,afterward,how I liked her cousin,
I said I didn't like him at all. She only
laughed, and said she believed nobody ev
er oid like him at fiist.
Somebody asked me to sing. I seated
myself at the piano, and give a song in my
best manner —which I had been taught to
believe was not an inferior manner, by any
means. My voice is good, and I bad re
ceived the best musical culture. What
mysterious influence was at work upon me
I did not know ; for, if ever I disliked a
person in mv life, I certainly disliked this
Mr. Harrison ; but, it is true,notwithstand
ing, thatT sunn for him ; and when I turn
ed away from the piano, it was with some
special curiosity I anticipated his comments,
if he chose to make any, or his manner
and its meaning, if he chose to hold his
tongue.
If you will believe t, the man was look
ing at a painting on the wall—looking at it
standing up, with his hands clasped behind
him, and his back to the company. Was
there ever such a clown ?
"What is the name of that beautiful
song >' asked Orville Redway, a young
man from the village.who had been invited
to tea, and now sat with us iu the parlor.
I told it him.
"I must have it," said he : it is exqui
site." And he took out his lead-pencil to
write on a card the name of the piecec. He
broke his pencil-lead. "Will some one
lend me a knife If" he asked. have left
mine."
Mr. Harrison heard the question, though
he was still looking at the painting, and
produced a large pocket knife, which h e
handed to Mr Redway.
"It's very sharp," said be ; "be careful*"
The first thing Bed way did was to cut
his hand. The blood spirted out in jets. He
turned pretty white, but just gathered his
hand in his handkerchief, and said it was
"a mere scratch, of no consequence."
"Beg your pardon, sir," Mr. Harrison
spoke; "its of some consequence. You'll
lose yonr life, if you don't look out. I'll
fix you."
He took his own handkerchief and tied
it loosely around Redwav's arm. Then be
took his knife, shut it carefully, put it un -
der the handkerchief next to the arm, and
began to twist it about. As the handker
chief tightened on the arm, the blood ceas
ed to flow."
"Send for a doctor," said Mr, Harrison.
"A doctor!" ottered Redway. "Isn't
this a good deal of fuss over a little cut ?"
"A little cut," said Mr. Harrison, "when
you cut an artery, it is a big cut."
Dr. Miner was three doors off*, and he
came in a few minutes. Ho expressed
great approbation of young Harrison's
conduct.
Young Harrison, as unconcerned as a
post, had returned to his inspection of the
painting he seemed to admire so much.
M\ Redway soon went off with the doctor.
The knife lay on the table. Out of pure
impi.dedce, or some simitar feeling, I took
up this terrible knife, and accidently cnt
the end of one of my fingers nearly off. I
screamed loudly,for it was a Hon id wound,
and the blood flowed copiously.
"TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RIGHT. *' —Thomas Jefferson.
TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 11, 1866.
"Well, upon my word !" remarked Mr.
Harrison. "Here's another!"
Auother ! How contemptuous the word
sounded to me ! I,Margaret Baily Monroe,
confessedly a belle, a beauty, and a lady of
rare accomplishments, besides being heir
ess to a hundred thousand dollars—l was
just "another !" Why didn't he call me a
person, and done with it ?" * • * *
Well, what would he do with my frightful
wound ?
"Mix a little flour and salt and put on
it," said he ; "that will stop the bleeding.
It 19 a mere trifle
It may have been a trifle, but it was
enough to males me swoon. Or perhaps I
swooned out of downright vexation at the
man.
When I recovered, he wa gone. By
and-by, when Belle and I were alone—we
roomed together—l asked her what Mr.
Harrison said when I fainted.
"He said," Bell answered, " 'lay her on
her back, and leave her alone ?' "
"Is that all lie said ?"
"No ; not quite. Some one brought the
flour and salt, and he put it on your finger,
and said, 'there, tie a rag around it.'"
A rag !
I should certainly hate this young man.
• * After that he became such an object
of interest to me tbat I could scarcely keep
my mind off him an hour at a time.
1 was not long in learning something of
his history. It seems that a love of adven
ture had sent him on a cruise around the
world, when he was a boy, of about sixteen,
both his parents being dead. He had been
absent from his native country four year
without interruption, and on his return had
decided to go to the academy a short lime
to correct certain lacks in his education.—
I This explained why a man of his advanced
age should be attending school—for he was
twenty one if he was a day. Belle assured
me. I myself was about seventeen, I was
the only female student of German at the
academy, and it was on that account that
Mr. Harrison manifested some degree of
interest in me, I suppose, for he was al
most enthusiastic in his admiration of that
scholastic tongue. So I saw a good deal
of him after all. ~
The following winter, at a party at Mrs.
Sand's, in Sandford, one bitter cold night,l
chanced to be alone with Nellie Wells one
moment in an upper chamber which wa9
used as a cloak-room for the lady guests.
There was a furious fire in the stove, and
its sides were red hot Nellie was a very
pretty g : rl, but rather dull. She wore a
dress of some grazy fabric, and going too
near the stove, it took fire. I ran out ot
the room, screaming at the top of- mv
voice .*
"Mr. Harrison ! Mr. Harrison ! Oh, Mr
Harrison !"
He came quickly to the hall ; saw nie ;
was up the stairway in a hound; and as I
was running back into the room, he went
past ine, pushing me aside rathei rndelv, i
and took in all with a cool glance. Nellie
had hauled a quilt from a bed that was in
the room, and was tn ing to stifle the flames
He threw heron the floor, rolled her over
and over in the quilt, like a mummy, and
extinguished the flames at once—hugged
her, too. She was not verv badly burned,
after all ; and her face was not touched by
the flames ; so that she remained as pretty
as ever.
"Remarkably sensible girl," said Mr
Harrison afterward, to a group tbat c'ns
tered about him in the parlor. "Most
girls would have rushed headlong into
the hall, screaming like"—he looked at
me—"like mad." he added, with a quiet
smile, "If I ever marry," said he, "which
I probab'y never shall, I shall marry a
sensible woman—a woman who would not
set up a scream if our youngest should
fall into a tub of hot water, but would pull
the child out as quickly as possible, and
send for a doctor."
' Somehow, I was vain enough to think
this sarcastic speech was intended solely to
rebuke me. I knew I should certainly
scream in such a case. It was my nature
to scream, and how could I help my na
ture?
As for that poor little Nellie Wells, I
hated her, and almost wished it had been
my own dress that had caught fire—only I
should certainly have burned to death be
fore Mr. Harrison would have come and
wrapped me in a quilt and bugged me.
From that day forward, some powerful
influence was at work upon me. I strug
gled hard after that cool manner in danger
which Mr. Harrison possessed in so emi
nent a degree. I even ventured, In the
pursuit of perfection, to ask him how he
could do it.
"I suppose," said he, "it is because I
naturally have such an extreme terror ot
danger in every shape—such a lively sym
pathy with those in peril - that I feel very
Strongly the necessity for being oalm when
others are excited, I think that whatever
excuse a lady may have for losing her wits
—and that is, at the best, very little—a
MAN has no excuse whatever. I always
trv to keep my wits about me."
"To be calm, then," said I, with the
withering irony common to girls of from
fourteen to eighteen, "one only needs to
have his wilsabout liira."
"Exactly," said he; "or, to change the
the sex, her wit 3 about her."
"Just as,'' I added, "the secret of wealth
is to get money."
"And to keep it," said be.
On one thing I was fully determined—?
he never should hear me scream again.
However, be left the school soon after;
and I did likewise in abont six months.
I bad effected a great change in myself
before I met him again.
11
It was in the summer of the year which
saw me pass my twentieth birthday, that
we met at Niagara Falls. He was there
with his cousin, my dear fjiend Belle Har
rison, and I with my sister and mother.
On a certain day we were all taking a
walk on Goat Island, when mother dropped
her parasol, and it slid down the bank
some fifteen or twenty feet, and out of
reach. Mr. Harrison descended the bank
after it, but though he used proper caution,
his foot slipped on the treacherous soil, as
he was returning, and he slid rapidly down
to the very verge ot the precipice. I ex
pected nothing else than to sec him go
over, and be dashed to pieces on the rocks
a hundred feet below; but though the
three other ladies screamed loudly, I did
not. You see, I was pretty thoroughly
drilled by this time. However, as Mr.
Harrison neared the edge of the precipice,
he threw out his right hand—still holding
the parasol in his left—and seized the up
turned roots of a tree which leaned out
over the chasm. The tree shook violently
under the sudden shock, and tho roots be
gan to tear themselves out of the thin soil
slowly and steadily, under the influence of
this snp"radded weight* In a few minutes
more it would give way, and then Mr.
Harrison would be killed. I know my
face was pale, and I was terribly frighten
ed ; but I leaned forward and spoke to
him :
"Tell we what to do."
"Take all the ladies' shawls, skirts, and
an}* other articles of dress that you car
spare, and which are strong; cut them in
wide, strong strips; tie them firmly to
gether and make a rope."
I obeyed as calmly as I knew he would
have done, but none the l.ss expeditious
ly on that account, be very sure, lie con
tinued speaking to me at intervals while I
was doing his bidding, and he spoke as de
liberately as if he stood in safety by my
side.
"Your calmness is quite charming, Miss
Monroe," said he. "Be sure and make the
knot tight. I judge that this tree may be
relied on with perfect confidence for ten
or fifteen minutes yet. Your rope is long
enough now, I think. Tie a stone to the
end, and let that end down to me. That's
it. All right now. Do nothing but hold
fast and stand still, ladies, and I will come
up to you."
He drew himself up, hand over band,
with extreme caution, and was saved. My
mother's parasol was restored to her with
acourtlvbow; and he brushed the dii9t
from his clothes and walked away with us.
1 walked by his side; but he made no ref
erence to the peril just passed.
That evening, however, as we sat on the
piazza of of our hotel, where it overlooks
the river—how well I remember the rush
ing sound of the waters down below !
he said :
"We are alone now, Misa Monroe, and
I can thank you for saving my life, without
offence to the other ladies."
It was too dark, out there, for him to
see the blush of delight that went over my
face at these works. How much they
meant, to me!
"I know T was as good as saved," said
he, "when I saw you standing wi h tightly
clasped hands and your under-lip pressed
bv your shining teeth, while Belle and the
other ladies were trying to drown the roar
of old Niagara with their shrieks. I nev
er saw one of your sex before who had the
control over herself which you manifested
to day. If I had seen such an exhibition
anywhere it would naturally have awaken
ed my admiration ; but when it happened
to be an exhibition in which my own life
or death was concerned, you may imagine
my feelings "
The tone in which he uttered these
words was se tender and true !—it said so
plainly that he would gladly devote all his
future life to me ! But, though tone and
manner said this, his words did not say it;
and I knew the reason. He believed me
already betrothed.
William Willis was the son of a New
York merchant who had been a school
mate with my father. It was my father's
wish that we should be married. I loved
my father, and was anx ous to be pleased
with his friend's son. Young Willis had
been a frequent gue9t with us, and many
considered us already befhrothed. He
was an agreeable companion in the parlor,
a good dancer, and all that; but 1 cared
more for one look of Joseph Harrison's
earnest, honest grey eyes than I did for
William Willis's whole composition.
According to a previous appointment,
Mr. Willis ca.ne to the Falls during our
stay. He arrived on the evening of the
day that witnessed Mr. Harrison's narrow
escape frcm death. He came out upon
tho piazza where we sat, that evening ;
and we shook hands. The gentlemen were
slightly acquainted, but it was plain Mr.
Harrison did not like Mr. Willis much;
and with a playful "Ich muss xseygehem,"
to me, he rose and went into the ball-room,
politely offering his seat to Mr. Willis.
Several days passed. While actually in
the position of a rival toward Mr. Willis,
Mr. Harrison by no means permitted him
self to act as if he were such. He was ve
ry courteous to Mr. Willis, and quietly
yielded all preference relating to me and
my society. lie seemed, however, to be
studying us—weighing the evidence of re
gard between ns—trying to form a conclu
sion as to the probable extent of onr rela
tions matrimony-ward. Oh, it did seem
to me as if he might, so brave a man as he
was—plainly put a few questions to me on
the subject! I would quickly have as
TBRMO, M.OO PSRAmniaff
sured hira how little Mr. Willis was to me.
At last, I had nearly made up my mind
to a desperate thing; nothing less indeed,
than to seek the intercession of his cousin,
my friend Belle. I would tell her how
much I loved Mr. Harrison, and beg her to
inform him in some sly feminine way. that
I should never marry Mr. Willis, and
that we were not "engaged." However,
I neglected to do this, just one day too
long.
It was a Monday—the last day of our
intended stay at the Falls. Mr. Willis in
vited me to ride. I had no courteous re*
fusal at band, and I consented to go with
him. Indeed, I had half promised him,
some days before. There was a New York
friend of his staying at the Falls, who had
with him a favorite horse—a fiery, hand
some animal—and Mr. Willis had repeat
edly invited me to ride behind hira. I
could put off the ride no longer, of course.
I did not much like the vicious manner
which the horse, at starting, laid back his
cars and bounded away; but I said noth
ing. We had not been riding many min
utes, eie the animal chose to take fright at
the flapping of a line full of newly washed
clothingjia the door-yard of a house near
the river bank ; and, taking the bit in his
teeth, he ran away. Our road lay along
tbc bank —safe enough, certainly, for a
ride with a horse under control; but de
cidedly not the best place for a runaway,
b' cause there was a spot, not over half a
mile distant, where the chances were
frightfully great that wc should be thrown
over the precipice and killed. At the rate
we were now going, we should reach that
dangerous place very soon,. William
Willis looking ahead, comprehended the
danger, and his face blanched.
"Good God !" he crien, "it'sdeath!"
With that he threw up the reins, and
jumped out of the buggy, striking a rock,
and breaking his collar-bone —as 1 found
afterward.
A9 for me, I kept my scat. If it should
become neceesary for me to jump, then I
would jump, but I was determined not to
take that venture till it was imperatively
demanded, by the imminewcy of the dan
ger at hand. So long as there was a pos
sibility that the horse's progress might be
held to that hope; because
when a horse is running furiously down a
smooth road, there is no choice between
jumping spots, till the crisis is at band.
While I at, clinging firmly to the seat,
and looking out sharply ahead, for the dan
gerous place must now be drawing near,
a man—it was Mr. Harrison—sprung with
astonishing agility at the horse,s head,
from among some trees at the roadside,
caught the bit. jerked it back, and actually
tore the animal's lips, so that blood flowed,
so energetic was the action. There was
no resisting the iion will, backed by the
iron nerve. The runaway came to a stop.
Mr. Harrison drew him to the side of the
road, and examined the harness and bug
gy carefully.
"Nothing broken," said he. "A very
narrow escape, Miss Monroe. I saw you
coming, and bad just time to get my wits
in order There, don't thank roe ; I didn't
know it was you, and should have done
just the same for any one else."
"But you aie hurt?" said I, noticing
that he limped.
"Yes, the horse trod on my foot."
"Oh. how unfortunate! Shall I get
out ?"
"No." said he ; "that is, it is unneces
sary that you should. Sit still and get rest
ed. He will run no more to day,l promise
you." He came around, and placed his
lamed foot carelessly on a wheel of the
buggy and spoke in his usual calm tone. —
"When a horse hws bad a fine, lively run
like that, he is inclined to be quiet for the
rest of the day. You can drive him back
in pet feet safety. But,l did not know you
were fond of taking drives alone by your
self, Miss Monroe ?'
"I wa9 not riding alone," said I, "my
driver jumped out"
"And left you f* said he, astonished.
"Yes."
"He ought to be horsewhipped ! May I
ask the coward's name ?"
"His name," said I. "is William Willis.
Mr. Harrison 6tared, amazed.
"Willis! I beg your pardon, Miss Mon
roe," This very coldly. "1 should not
have spoken in those terms, if I had known
that your companion was your-—" He
stopped, and bit his lip.
"My fiance, you would say," I made
quick response. "But he is not my Ji ince
Mr. Harrison. I would sooner marry a
woman than such a coward."
I spoke with some heat, and he looked
up at my excited face with bis dry smile.
"Will you marry me , Miss Monroe ?'
"Yes," said I.
And I did.
It was & queer place for a proposal, was
it not? But my husband is not like other
men. He always has his wits about him.
Here I bad finished ; but my husband,
reading what 1 had written, made this com
ment : "Which few men do when they
pop the question, my dear, nicht whar !**
fg" A poor Irishman, who applied for a
license to sell ardent spirits, being ques
tioned as to his moral fitness for the trust,
replied : "Ah shure, it's not much of a
character tk at a man needs to sell rum."
fjg' What is the difference between a
church deaoon and a ragamaffin 1 ■ One
passes the saaser and tba other aasses the
passer.
VOL. 5 N0.47.
MISCEGENATION. — The Watertown
(Wis.) Republican says, that last Friday
the usual quietness of our main street was
suddenly disturbed by the arrival of two
colored gentlemen from Lake Mills, with
a white woman hanging on the arm of
each. One couple was married, and ac
companied the other for the jiurpose of
being present at their bridal. Judging
from the appearance of the unmarried
couple, as they marched np through the
streets, we should think on this occasion
at least, true lore really ran smooth. They
at once proceeded to the justice's office
followed by a crowd anxious to witness tho
ceremony, at which the woman seemed
surprised, and inquired the reason of it
saying that when she married her first
husband there were not so many present.
Squire Ducasse gave them a few words of
advice and declined the honor of tying the
knot, when the woman declared she would
not marry a white man if she had to travel
1,000 miles, at the same time tapping the
ebony cheek of her betrothed, and heap*
provingly uncovered his ivories. After
several fruitless attempts to procure the
services of some proper individual they
left, saying something about this being a
copperhead town,
DATES OF SACRED EVENTS.
We give the following dates of events
so sacred to Christians on the authority
of the late Rev. Samuel Farmer Jarvis, D.
D. L. L. D., an eminent scholar and divine
of the Episcopal Church, whose profound
learning and diligent researches into anti
quities would have distinguished him in
any age: .
Our Savior was born on Wednesday,
December 28, 4707, Julian perioo; 193 d
Olympiad (second yaar, sixth month:) A.
U. C. 737 (ninth month, fifth day;) Julian
year, 36.
He was baptized by St John in the riv
er Jordan on Sabbath (Saturday,) January
6, 4738
His public entry into Jerusalem was on
Palm Sunday, March 21, 4731, Julian pe
riod; 20th Olympiad (sixty fourth year,
ninth month ;) nineteenth year of the as
sociate reign of the Emperor Tiberius ; fif
teenth year of his sole reign,
He was betrayed by Judas Iscariot o
the following Wednesday evening, Marcb
24.
He celebrated the Passover and insti
tuted the Eucharist cn Thursday evening,
March 24.
On Friday morning, March 16, at the
third hour, or nine o'clock, he was nailed
to the cross —the hovr when the lamb of
the daily morning sacrifice was offered in
the Temple. At the seventh hour, or thret
P. M., when the lamb of the daily evening
sacrifice was offered in the Temple, he ex
pired. At five P. M , his body was taken
down and deposited in the tomb of Joseph
Arimathes,
On the first Easter Sunday, Mareh £B,
about the beginning of the morning watch,
or three o'clock A. M., he rose from the
dead. It was the morrow after the last
Jewish Sabbath, when according to the
law, the first sheaf ot the earliest ripe
grain waved in the temple, by which the
whole harvest was sacrificed, that Christ
•'the first fruits," rose from the dead, as a
type and pledge of the future resurrection
of his faithful followers.
On Thurday, May 6, he ascended inti
Heaven.
On Sunday, May 16, the days of peni
tence, the Holy Ghost descended upon
the apostles and disciples.
A PUZZLE. —Here is something worth
studying over. We found it in an old
paper. If any of our patrons can solve it
and "see the point," they are at perfect lib
erty to do so :
I
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WE F O
RYO UR
PA P E
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&W Parson Brownlow says: "I am not
afraid to endorse Sumner and Stephens On
my own dunghill." Of course not; and
that is a very happy instance ot "the right
man in the right place," says an exchange,
J3T "Did any of you ever see an ele
phant's skin ?" asked the master of an in
fant school "I have," shouted a six year
old at the foot of the class. " JFhere f'
inquired the teacher, amused by his ear
nsstness. 'On the eliphant,' was the reply
MEN ENTITLED TO SEATS IN RAILROAR
CAR*. —In Buffalo a railroad conductor has
just been fined SSOO for ejecting a tnan
from a car because hs refused to give up his
seat to a woman. In the decision the Court
held that women are entitled legally to no
more privileges in pnbiic conveyances than
men, and that when the latter pay for seats
they have a perfect right to occupy them
so long as they conduct themselves proper
ly-
-
An editor in California, lately ye- .
ceived a long document which he was re- .
quested to insert gratis nnder his editorial I
bead. He placed it under his pillow, that
night, add expressed his willingness to in
sert rimilar Rgouaunications in tho same
way and <*i*tier terms.