North Carolina Newspapers is powered by Chronam.
3I)C l)at1)am Ikcorb.
II. A- IOIVJ"OIV,
KDITolt AND FltoPHIKToU.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION,
llliie Knimrc. one inortioti- Ifl.Ou
Vine fiiimrc, two instTtiiitis - 1.00
.One square, one month - 2.M
TM OH i ''""r m,Lr"'1' iidvertWinoirts liberal 0011
INv. tracts will I mnde.
One copy, inn' yosir
One copy, six months .
Oim rri)v, throe iii'intlii
PITTSBORO', OH ATI I AM CO., N. C, MARCH 26, 1885.
W'lint llmu;'i tlm v li' lie lilleil with flowers,
KiiiIiiihi'M'iI in living (jiopii;
1'Iiu linj,'i!iiit licnntj wonlil lie uniif;ht,
If they wn-o never wen.
Wlmt tlimiL'li tlii" hints in pliimnK0 bright
Sinn hwcetly tliio iuli til" Jbit;
l'llfil' MMIIIIKT Wlllllll Im nil in Vilill,
If tlii'ic wore nunc to Inrnr,
Wlmt llioMfjIi the Invint; linn Is or fiictila
Willi Mosings ovcr-inni'li,
Id' laid on n, tlii'ir tj.'iieo xvi'io lost
'onld wn nut foil their touch.
1 1:1 1 III nigh our liviM xith noo.l intent
llu moved ns ( 11 storm,
X wlmt nviiil, to tliosti who ni'Oii,
L'ulfm wo kivu tlii'in from?
H'lll J. Ltmplo-, in Current.
A LUCKY LETTER.
'Tea is ready, girls," said Saba Thorn.
It was no luxurious repast of but
tered toast, fragrant Oolong, honey
and preserves; no comfortable repast
if fold fowl, tongue, putted meats and
biscuit Imt from the oven!
When Saba Thorn railed it "tea,"
die merely used a convent ionalisiu. It
was only a srmty meal of Laker's
bread, witli a pot of cheap butter, a
Utile, smoked beef, which bad been
brought from the corner grocer's in a
brown-paper cover, and some milk nnd
water, blue and tasteless; fur Saba
and her two cousins found it necessary
to economize very strictly indeed.
Saba worked for an upholstery. All
lay long she stitched pillow-ticks and
tufted mattressiM in a dark little room,
xx here there was a prevailing stni'll ot
rancid gee e-f cat hers.
Her coudn, Helen, stood behind the
counter of a milliner's shop on the
Uowery: mid lit t to Kate tho young
eat of the three was "packer'- in a
fancy store, and could do up r.iore neat
paper parcels in a given time than
you would believe possible.
They were all three pallid and col
orless, like plants that had grown in a
cellar. They all three had u certain
languor of manner, and spoke in low,
They lived together in this one room
vxitha little alcove running out of it,
because it was the cheapest mode ol
existence, mid because their scant earn
ings, e ubbed together, could ho laid
out to better advantage than if ex
pended singly. Moreover, to these
poor, homeless girls, there was a home
feeling in being together.
"1 don't feel hungry," said Helen,
with a grimace.
"I am so tired of bread and butter;"
sighed little Kate. "Oh, if I could only
h ivo some of the stewed grapes that
mother used to make!"
"Oh, that reminds me," said Saba,
taking a letter off tho mantle. "I've
heard from old Mrs. i'iukney. She
wants ns to buy a fashionable bonnet
lor her garnet velvet, with a lung
I'l'ime if we can get it for a dollar
and a half; and to look out for a bar
gain in crimson merino for Louisa
.Line's winter frock. Shti wants the
very best ipiality. and she. can't go
higher than thirty-seven cents a yatd.
And she wishts to know if wo are ac
quainted with anybody in the business
who wiil dye over her pea-green silk
idiirt at half-price.
Helen shrugged her shoulders.
"She must think we have plenty of
time to execute her commissions,"
"Merino for thirty-seven cents n
yard!" cried little Kate. "And a hat
of velvet, for a dollar and a half. Does
the woman expect impossibilities?"
"Hut that isn't all," said Saba.
"I'ncle John is very poor. She thinks
- his relations ought to look after him."
"I'ncle John!" said Kate.
"Poor!" echo3d Helen.
"Hut what has become of all his
money?" said little Kate, intently knit
ting her brows.
"I'm sure 1 don't know," said Saba
'Mrs. I'iukney doesn't go into particu
lars. All the rest of the letter is about
the sewing society, and tho chicken
cholera, which has carried off so many
of her fowls."
"He must have been persuaded into
nvesting in some of those dreadful
mining Btocks!" said little Kate.
"But, 'girls,'" said Saba, "what ate
we to do?"
"Precisely what he ha1 always done
to us," said Helen. "Let him alone."
"No, no, Helen!" pleaded little Kate.
Don't talk so. Kemember, he is the
only uncle we have got. He was our
"And what has he ever done for
.?" retorted Helen, bitterly.
"That don't signify," reasoned Saba.
"He is old and feeble. He needs our
care. That is enough."
"Saba ia right," urged little Kate.
"I'ncle John mustn't be left to dio
"Hut what can we do?" said Helen.
. 'We can't bring htm hue'"
"No," said Saba. "It would break
his heart to take him away from the
pine V' must to him."
"And all starve together?" said Hel
en. "I don't see that that would bo
much of an improvement on the pres
ent state of things."
"Listen," said Saba, lifting no au
thoritative, fore-linger. From a tri
lling seniority in years, and a somewhat
greater experience in the world of
work, Sahuhad become finite an oracle
in the trio. "1'vo been considering it.
I can do the housework for I'nclo
"Yes," said Helen.
"Ofi our.se,'' said little Kate. "And
if lu hasn't been obliged to sell the
cow, wo can perhaps have real creamy
milk, and now and then a little cottage-cheese.
Oh, wouldn't that be
"Helen could make bonnets for tho
farmers' wives," suggested Saba. "Th
women out there know what a pretty
bonnet is as well as any one, only
they ctin't get it."
"Hravo!" cried Helen, clapping her
hands. "I do think 1 have rather a
genius for tho business!"
"And little Kate could go out to
plain sewing by the day, among the
neighbors," added Sab:. "Or help
around in soap-making and preserving
limes. There are a good many who
would pay fifty cents a day and board
for good, intelligent help. And that
is a deal more than she earns here."
Little Kate looked rather sober.
"1 have my doubts about that plan
working," said she. "Hut I cou'.dn't
stay here, away from you. If you all
if i, why, so will I."
"Then," went on Saba, "I've laid up
.ix dollars toward a winter cloak. L'n.
lo John wants it more than I do. I'll
keep it lor hi in."
"There is my ten dollars in tho savings-bank,"
added Helen. "I (
want a pair of thick boots and a warm
winter shawl. Hut if I'nclo John is
really in need "
"1 haven't saved any moty," said
little Kate, sorrowfully. "How could
I, with my wages of two dollars a week ?
Hut 1 will do all that I can to help."
"Yon arc dear, generous girls, both
if you," said Saba. "It may be a little
hard, just at first, but it is clearly our
duty to go to ('nolo John. And I will
write and tell him so this very night."
"Do," said Helen. "I'll burrow Miss
Clitch's ink-bottle, and there area pen
and two sheets of paper in tho wash
stand drawer. 1 can buy a postagi-
stamp at the druggist's on the corner."
"Wouldn't a postal card be cheap
er?" said wise little Kate.
Hut Saba shook her head.
"Would you put I'nclo John's pov
erty on a postal-card, for all tho world
to read?" said she.
And little Kate answered, some
'1 didn't think of that. I only
Ihoi ght ot economizing a cent. J
wonder if the time will ever come
when we don't have to think of sav
And little Kato put on lu-r bonnet
and tripped around to the druggist's
where one particular clerk put him."
self out to wait upon her.
"She has got. a face like a daisy,"
said the druggist's clerk. "It ever I
marry, I should like a wife like that!
No, she's not much of a customer of
ours, but 1 have seen her at church
meetings, and I walk home w ith her
sometimes of an evening. She lives
in Timin's tenement-house with her
sister and cousin, and works in (int.
cey's store. That's all I know about
her. Hut she always makes one think
of a wild-llower."
I'ncle John Jaycox was sitting by
his fireside when his niece's letter
came. The lire of birch logs blazed
gloriously up the chimney; a pair ol
fat, honie-ruu candles glittered on tin
table. In all the room there was an
evidence of griping poverty.
"Yes," said I'ncle John to a tall
young man who sat opposite, "I guess
1 11 have you here to run the farm for
me, Israel Penlield. It's gettin' too
much for me to manage alone. Hut as
for some woman to keep house for me,
now that Anasti'sia (iriou has been
fool enough to marry old Simpson
Eh? what? a letter? I'm obleegod
to you, Mrs. Pinkney! Stop and take a
warm while I read it, and I'll git you
a basket of gilliflower apples to carry
home afterward. They're jest spilin'
to be eaten, them gillitlowers is."
Hut as he perused his letter, a cuil
ous expression stole over his rugged
"Sakes alive!" said he, stamping one
foot on tho Moor. "What in creation
does all this mean? I guess we'll have
enough housekeepers, Israel. Here's
my three nieces from New York a
comin' to live with me, because Mrs.
Pinkney here has writ 'em that I've
lost my property. And thty're goiir
to take care of me. Well, I swan!"
"I didn't write no sich!" whined
Mrs. Pia'iney, with rather an alarmed
air. "I only said you was dreadful
poor In health. I meant the lumbago
' and lheumatiz. "1 didn't say a thin'
"Well, no matter w hat you said, nor
! what you didn't say," declared l'n lo
John, crumpling up tho letter in his
j hand and staring at tho lire. "Tho
gals think 1 in poor, ami they recomin
hero to support me, and make a homo
for me in my old age-bless their
hearts! I don't know why they should
do it," he added, with a conscience
stricken face. "I never did nothin'
Ur ii in. And Kate and Helen are
my sister Jane's darters, ami Saba is
Hepsy's only child. And they're
workin' for a livin,' and I've got,
more'n I know what to do with. It's
a shame, now ain't it, that things is so
"Just exactly what I've always
said," quietly remarked Isiael Penlield.
I'ncle John Jaycox looked at him
with a queer twinkle in his opaquo
"I declare," said he, "them gills has
tacght me a lesson! I don't need to bo
took care of in my old age; but I swan
to goodness! it would bo a" kind of
pleasant to have three gals around,
look in' artcrthe. old man. I'm a mind
to try it."
"I would if 1 was you," said Israel
So, when Saba, Helen and little Kate
arrived, I'nclo John received them
with a warm welcome.
"Nieces," said he, "1 mu'I poor, nor
I ain't likely to be; but I'm glad to
see you. I'm glad to know that there's
any one in the world cares enough tor
tho old man to come and look arter
him, without no expectation of bein'
paid for it. It sort o' shores up my
confidence in human natur'. Come in
come in! There's plenty of room
or you all in the old farm-house.
Come in and welcome!"
Th" three girls looked at each other.
"Ought we to stay?" they asked
"Yes," whispered little Kate. "There
are t wo red cows in the field. I saw
"And the air smells so sweet!" said
"And I'liclo John spoke asif ho was
really, really glad to see us," said Saba.
"Oh, yes, let us stay!"
Nor did any of the contracting par
tics ever regret the misunderstanding
which had brought them so curiously
Little Kale went back to the city,
after a year or two, to marry the drug
gist's clerk, who was now setting up
in a small way for himself, and had
comedown to tho country after the
daisy-faced girl who had once attract
ed his attention.
Helen is engaged to Israel Penfn ld,
ami they are to have a regular oh'.
fashioned wedding when the diessis
And Saba quiet Saba is to stay
with I'ncle John, to rea l the paper to
him and cheer up tho long, lonely
"For 1 couldn't get along without
the girl, nohow!" says I'ncle John, jo-
-( -'ii'W itinri
Chimes and llnw Tlicy Are I'liicr.
Hells may be rung in two ways;
first, by swinging them with rop;- and
wheel; and secondly, by striking them
either upon the outside or inside with
hammers, the bell its-lf being station
ary. In England the former method
of rope an 1 wheel was almost univer
sally adopted, requiring a man forcaeh
bell. From this method we get tha
interesting and peculiarly English
kind of chime music known as the
"changes." which gave England the
name of tho Hinging Island. In Hel
giuiu, however, the stationary method
was used. Chimes played in this man.
ner were rung by one person and called
carillons, beeaus the Italian iiiifii
;'(, or quadrille, "a dreary kind of
dance music," was the first ever played
upon them. To play upon carillons
the performers used an instrument
known as tho "tlavecin," a kind of
rough key-board arranged in semi- j
tones. Each key was connected by
wire or rope with a hammer, which j
struck the bell when a sharp blow was .
given the key with a gloved list. This
machine was necessarily extremely
crude at first; and, since chimes have
never been played half so well as in
(he days of this invention, it is all the
greater wonder that tho art ever pro
gressed at all. Recently somo great
masterpieces in chime music have been
found, which were composed and
played at Louvain in the latter half ol
tho last century by the most skilful and
wonderful chimer who ever lived
Matthias van den (iheyn. No one in
Europe or America can now bo found
who is able to play this music, w hich
rivals in tho depth and subtlety of its
composition some of the liuest works
of Hach, Moart or Heethoven. Henc
the inference is that the trt of pluyinp
carillons has sadly declined, with
small prospect of ever recovering thi
I st ground.
NKW YORK'S CREMATORY.
A Buiblmri Used "TxHnsi vcly
for Burning tlioDcntl.
Moro than Thirty Human Bolim Al
io i'ly Awaiting Incineration.
"Now York will soon have a flrst--lass
crematory in operation," said tho
president, of a crematory company
while in conversation with a represen
tative of the Muil till' K.rirrM.
"How do you propose to ceb-brate
the completion of the crematory?"
"l!y immediately putting to a prac
tical test, its usefulness. At least
thirty bodies are deposited in vaults in
tho cemeteries awaiting incineration.
Simo of them belonged to very promi
nent tamilies, but 1 am not yet at lib
Hrty to disclose their names. The in
cineration will be a triumph over pre
vious records. The furnace will be
heated to 'J,.Ml degrees Farenheit.
The body place I on the catafalque will
lescend to the furnace in the base
ment, and in :!.'i minutes several
pounds of ashes in beautiful terra
cotta vases will ri..o where the corpse
once rested. The audience will not be
aware that the incineration has taken
place, as the catafalque i.) covered and
the body descends unnoticed. 'The
funeral services can still proceed and
not be interrupted. The relatives can
wait and get the ashes. Any religious
service in the world can bo conducted,
for the crematory will not be orthodox.
Incense, myrrh and high-llavored
spices will not be u -ed. There is no
iiecissit.v, as no odor whatever exhales
Irom the furnace. Alieady two pot
tery manufacturers have put in bids
for the terra cotta vases. Of course,
rich people can furnish their own
vases it they desire. The crematory
will only furnish the terra cotta vases.
Two rare specimens of Etruscan vases
called a'dicill.e, over 2,1 "Ml years old,
will ho placed in the crematory ollice
as specimens of antique art ami tate.
They came from Capua, Italy, and
were purchastd by the company at a
round sum of money."
"Will a common-sized vaso hold the
"Easily. There arc only four pounds
of ashes to every hundred pounds of
llesh. 'The ashes will he bleached to a
pearly whiteness by the process of a
superior heat regenerator."
"How will the prices range?"
"They will be quite low, and as pat
ronage increases they will be reduced.
The scale of prices established at pres
ent are j;J."i for first; class and half that
price for children and poor people.
To this may bo added, if desired, $5
for an uin and $10 for a niche in the
Columbarium, where the urn may bo
kept, and for an inscribed taMet to be
placed in tho wall below the niche
commemorative of decease I, making
the entire expense A burial in a
cemetery will cost three times that
"Are you gaining many adherents
to this mode of burial?"
"Yes, every day. It i.s only a ques
tion of time when th" old and un
healthy im thod will become unpopular.
Why, even the president of Evergreen
Cemetery predicts that in twenty-five
years incineration will be the prevail
ing method of disposing of the dead,
A great many people secretly advocate
cremation, but because some prejudice
exists against it they do not declare it
openly. The time will come when
cremation will be as popular as ground
burial now. Perhaps in I'nion square
someday in the near luture, a large
crematory will be erected and do a
good business. There w ill be public,
private and charitable crematories
erected, and the chances of epidemics
will bo decreased a million fold. New
York must take the lead in such a
great movement, being the chief city
pi the I'nited States. The general
tendency of education is toward im
proved sanitary measures, and neces
sarily the crematory must be recog
nized as ono of the gteatest agents in
that direction. Popular prejudice lasts
very long, but when a revulsion takes
place it amounts to a complete revolu
tion. Science, common senso and the
laws of health are in favor of crema
tion." The Kind of a Man He Was.
Mr. Closelist called at a neighbor's
not long ago, and the little angel of
the house was very attentive- and in
quisitiva After inspecting him
pretty closely, she said:
"Mr. Closelist, your foot isn't very
little, is it?"
"No. Maggie," responded the visitor.
"Your baud ain't, either?" she con
tinued. "I think not."
"Your head aint, cither?"
"No. my dear, but why do you ask?"
inquired the puzzled gentleman.
"Hecause, jiapa said you w ere the
smallest man, in some things, he ever
met. I guess papa has seen more of
you than I have." Mtihant Truahr.
A;i Obi New Eiurbinil Tavern.
Oliver Wendell Holmes describes in
the Mluntir an old New England tav
ern, us follows: Midway between the
two extremities, on the eastern shore
of the lake, is a valley between, two
hills, which come down to the veiy
edge of tho lake, leaving only room
enough for a road between their base
and tho water. This valley, half a
mile in width, litis been long settled,
and here for a century or moro has
stood the old Anchor Tavern. A
famous place it was so long as its sign
swung at the side of the road; famous
for its landlord, portly, paternal, whose
wi-icomo to a guest that looked worthy
of tho attention was like that of a par
ent to a returning prodigal, and whose
parting words were almost as good as
a marriage benediction; famous for its
landlady, ample in person, motherly,
seeing to the whole household with her
own eyes, mistress of all culinary
secrets that Northern kitchens are most
proud of ; famous also for it ancient
servant, as city people w ill call her,
help, ms she was called in the tavern
and would have called herself,- tho iin
chinging, seemingly immortal Miran
da, who cared for the guests as if sho
were their nursing mo' iier, and pressed
the specially favorite delicacies; on
their atto'itioii as a connoisseur calls
the wandering eyes of an amateur to
the beauties of a picture. Who that
has ever been at the old Anchor Tav
ern forgets Miranda's
"A liltlf of lid- liiciis ee'' it i- vi r-v nil
"iiie ot thi'o c
er v jood.
la's? You will liii'l thcin
Nor would it be just to memory to
forget that other notable and noted
member of the household, the
unsleeping, unresting, omnipresent
Piishee, ready fur everybody and every
thing, everywhere within the limits of
the establishment at all hours of the
day and night. He fed, nobody could
say accurately when or where. There
were rumors of a "bunk," in which
belay down with his clothes on, but he
seemed to be always wide awake, and
at the service of as many guests at
once as if there had been half a dozen
The Xew .calami .Mothcr-iii-I.aw.
In New Zealand it is customary to
have a mock sciulle after the mat r'age.
Yates gives it good example in describ
ing a wedding he witnessed : There
wr.s a little opposition to the wedding,
but not till it was over, as is the cus
tom here. The bride's mother came
to mo the preceding afternoon and said
she was well pleased that her daughter
was going to be married to I'ehaii,
but that she must bo angry about it
with her mouth in the presence of
strangers, lest the natives come ,vul
take away all her possessions and de
stroy her crops. To prevent this the
mother acted with policy. As I was
returning from tho church with the
bride and bridegroom, sho met the
procession and began to assail us all
It is said that she put on a most
terrific countenance, threw her gar
ments about and tore her hair like
fury, then said to tiw : "Hah, you
white missionary; you are worse than
the devil. You first make a slave lad
your son by redeeming him from his
master, and then marry him to in v
daughter, who is a lady, I will tear
your eyes out."
The old woman, suiting the action
I o the word, feigned a scratch at his
face, at tho same time saying in an
undertone that it was all mouth, and
that she did not intend what sho said.
"I will stop your mouth with a
blanket," said the missionary.
"That is all I wanted," was the
reply. "I wanted a blanket, and so I
made all the noise."
The whole affair went off remark
ably well after this; all seemed tn
enjoy themselves, and every one was
How to Dress Warmly.
A person with nrich less weight or
costliness of clothes piovided he or
she was dressed coirectly for the
cold could face tho stiil, frosty air
without either red face or benumbed
hands, and yet neither bo dressed in
f nr. carry a muff, nor wear a veil. It
Is so important to know where to put
the warmth of clothes, that a sugges
tion just here may save some suffering
especially among children. There ar
three outposts of the body that need tr
be guarded from the cold. These ar
tho knees, the wrists and the neck,
well up to the ears. If these art
thickly and warmly covered, the rest
of the clothing does not need to be so
heavy as is supposed. Tho most
important of all to be protected are the
knees, and especially for the very yourifi
and elderly. It is astonishing what
lomfort is given by those knittcc
knee caps that fit 'nti the stocking
which can be drawn over them i1
A mountain explorer, just returned
from Asia, states that during a four
months' residence at a height or more
than 1.1,11:111 Vct above tho sea hU
pulse, normally only sixty-three beats
per minute, seldom fell below l'JJ
beats per minute, and his respirations
were oft"n twice as numerous as at
An astronomical observation of an
earthquake was lately made,
by the il' rector of tho
observatory at Nice, Franco.
He was watching one of Saturn's
moons at the moment of the shock,
and the motion imparted 4to his tele
scope caused the celestial object to
move some fifteen or twenty seconds
to the right,
Speaking of Dr. Ilb-hardson's process
for the painless killing of animals, the
London l.'tif'l says that science
scorns in it a m igniii.'cut sueee's; it
gives inferior creation a blessing it
dare not give to man painless death.
The agen1, which h i s been used suc
cessfully with iii io' i dogs, is carbonic
oxide pas-eil at summer heat over a
mist ure of chloroform an I bisulphide
of carbon in a lethal chamber. The
method hat been used successfully
with sheep, and will be applied to
Science destroys some ol tho most
e'lerished popular delusions. Catgut
is derived from sheep; Ccriuan sih er
was not invented in (ietniany. and it
contains no silxer; Cleopatra's needle
was not erected by her, nor in her
honor; Pompey's pillar had no histori
c l connection xvitli that personage;
sealing wax docs not contain a particle
of wax; the tuberose is not a rose, but
a pohanth; the strawberry is not a
berry; Turkish baths did not originate
in Turkey, and are not baths at all;
whalebone is not bone, and contains
not any of its properties.
Tho beech, according to Mons. Ilan-sen-Hlang-ted,
is supplanting other
trees in the forests of Denmark. Its
readiest, conquests aro made in its
struggle xxith the birch, which is
rapidly disappearing before it, and
which now forms forests only where
the soil is too poor to support the
beech. The earliest, forests of the
country were mainly composed of as
pens, with wlkieh the birch was ap
parently associated; but as the soil
and climate improved the lir appeared
in great, numbers, and ruled for cen
turies. The first place was then gained
by the holm oak, which is now--like
the birch and the lir, but moro slowly
being replace ! by the beech. The su
periority of tho beech seems to lie in its
power of growing in the shade of any
trees, xv hi le other trees are unable to
develop in the shadows of itsoxx n dense
A Pen Picture of (oinlou.
II. S. Prout. one; a colonel in the
Egyptian service, thus describes the
hero of Khartoum in the New York
H'o7': (ieiieral llordon was unmar
ried, and at the time of his death xvas
lifiy-txvo years old. In person he xvas
about 5 feet S inches tall, of light but
athletic figure. He was a line horse
man, a poxx erf ul swimmer, a go ed shot
and has given evidence known to the
world of extraordinary physical endur
ance. When 1 first saxv him, in Jan
uary, 1.-71, bis complexion was rresh
and his hair brown and curling lo-ely.
When 1 saw bun last, in April, 17S his
face had becomelhin and sallow and his
hair quite gray, lie had a noble hoai
nnd his blue eyes were Mngubi U clear
j'.nd piercing. Ilisopen and direct gaze
seemed to look through and through
one. His mouth was resolute, but his
whole expression was very animated
and mobile. His manner and spceih
xx ere quick and abrupt, often brusque,
and often gentle, and even tender. I lo
dre sed plainly, but was scrupulously
neat. In the heart of Africa he con
trived to shave every morning.
He was a great, smoker, but abstemi
ous in eating and drinking, stores of
food and drink, elaborate mess equip
age, cooks and their paraphernalia
were never alloxved to impede his
flights over the land. lie complained
llrstof the rapacity of Englishmen and
next of their worship of dinner. A
relative told me a trilling but charac
teristic incident which took place dur.
his service on the Danube Commission.
A distinguished personage called on
him. Oord'in's servant, a devoted old
woman, told the caller that the Colonel
xvas just at dinner, but tho door was
hardly closeil when she heard Cordon's
stern voice bidding her call the gentle
man back, as he xvas not, at ilium ,
The visitor returned and after he ha i
gone the trembling domestic ventured
to look for the dinner which she had
carefully served, but of which not a
sicn xvas to be seen on the table, sh,.
finally found dinner, service, cloth and
all in a bundle in a locker. Affairs
were not to be hindered by a trille like
dinner. His horror of formal dinneis
gave him much trouble after he le--'iiuie
a lion in England.
iii '.mo mil s.
S OK Mtl'4 In lot" itli'V 'tin f
' 1 etc no ImiI thin:;
Mio;lll "'M lilin I'l-f-olM ihc
lielore llie -Hi;;.
The s;ck is an appropria'c coat ft r
"(iood bye. sweet tart," said the
tramp as be sx alloxved it.
A lightning ml agent is tho chap
who likes to give points to 'he people.
The girl xvho calls a man by bis
first name upon early acquaintance is
not likely to be called by his last.
What is the difference between a
watchmaker and a jailer? line sells
iXiitches and the other xv at dies cells.
Inquirer a-ks: "Is th" lenvling of
l dog at night a sign of death?" "Yes,
unless it's too dark to get a good aim."
"The Poet's Craxe" is the title of
some lilies iu an exchange. That's
xx hat's the matter with the a vera;;"
poet. He's too grave.
If there is anxthiiig abo.-e ground
ni"ie thoroughly permeated with bliss
than a woman xxith a nexv goxvn it is
i boy xvho has just learned to whistle.
Jones You s.'.y there is a soft side
to every man ? smith --May be there
is: but xx hen the inevitable happens at
the skating rink it is always off on a
A London paper publishes the as
finishing information that the city
has "on" clergyman for every four bar
rooms." What a bar-room needs xxith
a clergyman wo cannot understand.
A Host. hi doctor, xvho has just re
tin-d xvitli a big fortune, says he drew
remedies for corns, and consumption
from the sain 1; 'g. an 1 most of his
patients g"i well. This is believed to
be the lir.-t physician xvho ever con
' Don't you think be is a lino speci
m n of green old age, daughter?" con
tinued the mother follow ing the old
gentleman with her eves. "Ye.:,
iinaiimia. I do; and about the greenest.
' oal age 1 I'xersaxv. Why. the old foo:
ja-k'd me last nigl t to n ai ry him'"
i " Whi r's the bar," a-ked a dirt -j
looking s' ranger of a waiter at a 1 it
jlh" other day. "What kind of a bar ?"
a-ked the latter. " Why. a liquor bar.
if course; what do you suppose 1
j mean ?" ' Well," draxvled the boy, " 1.
, lidii't know but you might mean a bar1
! "What na'iie does your husband call.
! vou by?" s;i I a bride to a friend xvho
I 'iad been marrie 1 several years: "does
j iie call you ducky or lovcy ? My darb
ng calls in' ducky." "Dies he'J
I Mine used to call me popsey wopsey,
! hut he doesn't use that term now."
; "What does ho call you then?" "Hd
j 'alls me, -av. there.' "
Mould Itiiibling ami lloli-'ioiis Ih licf.
; Among the earliest of religious be
liefs is Animism, or nature xvorshipj
i Next totliis io the rising seaiu is
tnimal wordiip, anil followng it, is
I sun wor-hip. Animism is the religion,
j, if the savage and hunter rates, xvho
l ire generally wanderers. Animal
, w orship is the religion of the sedentary
l:ibcsand is peculiar to a condition
, xx In re agriculture and permanent
village life appear. Mm xvorship is
Mho religion of village tribes and is
, pecii'iar to the stage which borders
iup'tithe civilized. It is a religion
'which belongs to the status of bar bar
i in, but oil en passes over into the
jiivihzed state. Now, judging from
' all circumstances and signs, we should
j sax that the emblematic mound builder.-
were in a transition state, between the
conditions of savagery and barbarism
, and that they had rea' hed the point
.where animal worship is very preva
lent. This habit of fixing upon the
' scenes of nature and transforming
them into animal divinities is evidence,
in our opinion, that the old superstition
that nature was possessed by a spirit
! bad given away to the idea that ani
mals vvrc tie: objects of worship and
were to be regarded as totems or divin
itits. The idea that loca'.iti 's were
' haunted by divinities w.is, however,
still retained, and there is no doubt
that many of the effigies which sur
; mounted the hill tops perpetuated
j their local traditions and were remind
i ers of these divinities to tho peoph
which inhabited the region. iiiui o ui,
j .1 nli'inil i-llt.
(lad to Accommodate.
Mrs. slimdiet "Will you please let
mo have that paper when ymi arc
through vvith it ?"
Thin 1'oanler "Certainly. Take it
now. I have another in my pocket."'
Mrs. Slimdiet "Oh, no! I do not
want to read it. I happened to pick it
up while you were at tea, and noticed
something I would like to cut out ol
the paper when you aro through w ill
it. It is a recipe for canned currant
Thin Hoarder "Oood ides. I have
often thought the best thing to do with
vurrant pies is to can them." L'alL