THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER
VOL, 111. NO. 8
THE
Charlotte Messenger
IS PUBLISHED
Every Saturday,
AT
CHARLOTTE, N. C.
In the Interests of the Colored People
of the Country.
Able ami well-known writers will contrib
ute to its columns from different, parts of the
country, and it will contain the latest Gen
e»*l News of the day.
The Messenger is a first-class newspaper
and will not allow personal abuse in its col
umns. It is not sectarian or partisan, but
'independent—dealing fairly by all. It re
serves the righ tto criticise the shortcomings
•of nil public officials—commending the
-worth}', and recommending for election such
wen as in its opinion are best suited to serve
the interests of the people.
It is intended to supply the long felt need
of a newspaper to advocate the rights and
defend the inter sts of the Negro-American,
especially in the Piedmont section of the
•Carolines.
SUBSCRIPTIONS:
(Always in Advance.)
. 1 year - - - $1 50
8 months - - - 100
8 months ... 75
4 months - - */)
3 months - - 40
Address,
W.C. SMITH, Charlotte, N. C.
The Western papers are again circu
lating the ancient rumors concerning the
dearth of marriageable women in the
newer States. The St. Louis Post-Dis
patch alleges that in portions of Minne
sota men are offering from $lO to S2O for
wives, and further out, in Dakota and
IMoiitana, they even go so far as to officr
a hor9c or a mule in exchange for one of
the gentler sex.
she Boston Herald says the boarding
house women of Washington are num
bered by thousands. There are two
classes of these. 'Hie first merely rent
100 ms, and the second give board as
well. It is a great business at Washing
ton for women to take large houses, pay
ing from $75 to S3OO per month for them,
and then to sublet the rooms to single
gentlemen or to families, as the case may
be. They receive, as a rule, as much for
their ground floor rooms as they pay for
the whole house, and there have been in
stances in which women have made
themselves independent by room-renting.
One hundred dollars and more is not an
uncommon rent there for a couple of
furnished room in a good location, and
SSO to $75 are often gotten for two
rooms on the second floor. A good
third floor front room will bring $25, and
a house that rents for SIOO a month, un
furnished, will often bring in S2OO or
$250 if furnished and sublet, beside giv
ing a room for the landlady. A number
of landladies make money there keeping
boarding-houses, and the one who enter
tained W. D. Howells during his last so
journ in Washington has been able to
buy the house in which she lives, which
is worth about $40,000, and is now start
ing a new hotel near the Treasury.
Not much is generally known, or re
membered at least, of the early bistorj
of our leading colleges. Yale was named
after Elihu Yale, a native cf New Haven,
who afterward settled in London and
became weilthy by trading in India. H<
gave it £2OO, regarded in the early pari
Os the last century aa a large sum. The
college was begun at Say 1 rook in 1701,
but removed, sixteen years later, to the
present place. The College of New
Jersey, founded by the Presbyterian
Synod of New York Ftate, which then
comprised New Jersey, was opened in
1747, at Elizabethtown, having bceu
chartered the year previous. It was re
moved to Newark in 1848 and then tc
Princeton Harvard, the oldest cduca
tional institution in the United States,
dates from 1630, having been founded
by Massachusetts. An earnest similai
attempt had been made at Williamsbug,
Virginia, even before that. The 6pol
chosen was Henrico, near what is now
Richmond, in 1619, an endowment ol
£1,500 and 10,000 acres of laud having
1 been obta ; ned for the proposed college;
but those who came from England tc
undertake the work were slain by the In
dians, and the project was abandoned.
Seventy-three years later William an'i
Mary was instituted. Brotvn University
owes ifg nnnv to Nicholas Brown, one o!
its benefactors. It whs founded in 1764
at Warror. Rhode Island.and transferre l
six year* later to Providence. Nine col
•leges were established before the Revo
lotion, end nineteen before this century.
Now there ares everal hundred, distiib
titod through every B a‘e and Teiritort
In the Republic. One of the first thingi
a new Territory does, after clearing
away the trees, is to establish what i
rail** aun veraitv. No lefg soundini
Bam' would lie -•tiife; tory.
CHARLOTTE, N. C. SATURDAY, AUGUST 28, 1886.
THE LYRIC OF ACTION.
Tis tho part of a coward to brood
O'er the past that is withered and dead;
What though the heart’s roses are ashes and
dust?
What though the heart's music be fled!
Still sbino the grand heavens o'erhead.
Whence the voice of an angel thrills clear en
the soul,
“Girl about thee thine armor, press on to the
goal!”
If £he faults or the crimes of thy youth
Are a burden too heavy to bear,
What hope can rebloom on the desolate waste
Os a jealous and craven despair?
Down, down with the fetters of fearl
In the strength of thy valor and manhood
arise,
With the faith that illumes and the will that
defies.
“Too late!” through God’s infinite world,
From His throne to life's nethermost fires—
“ Too late!” is a fantom that flies at tte daw®
Os the soul that repents and aspires.
If pure thou hast made thy desires,
There’s no hight tho strong wings of im
mortals may gain
Which in striving to reach thou shalt strive
for in vain.
Then up to the contest with Fate,
Unbound by the post which is dead!
What though the heart's roses are ashes and
dust!
What though the heart's music be fled!
Still shine the fair heavens o'erhead;
And sublimo as the angel who rules in the
sun
Beams the promise of peace when the conflict
is won!
—Paul H. Hay no,
HUCKLEBERRIES.
BY ESTHER SKRLE KENNETH.
‘‘Well, it’s out now!” As Miss Amelia
WyJie spoke she entered her sister's
chamber and shut the door hard. Pretty
little Vesta, who was reading at a win
dow, looked up from her hook.
“What, Amelia?
“Our destination this summer.” -
Vesta waited, while Amelia excitedly
knocked about the toilet-bottles on the
dressing-case.
“After all the dresses we’ve made, and
my spending my private allowance for
that peach-colored evening silk that
mamma refused to get me, we are going
—guess where, Vcs!”
“To Newport?”
“No.”
“To l ong Branch?”
“No.”
“I understand that we are not going to
Saratoga.” 8
“We are not.”
“Well, what makes you look so dis
mal! Are we goiDg into the Mammoth
Cave?”
“We might as well. We are going to
Starville.”
“Starville!”
“Yes. That little village in the back
woods where there’s nothing but cows
and huckleberries!”
Amelia's look was tragic! Vesta sank
back in her little rocker and laughed.
“Is mamma crazy?”
Mrs. Wylie entered.
“No, my dears. I have a good and
sufficient reason—as for everything I
do.”
She sat down and smoothed her black
satin lap with her jeweled hands.
“I might say we are short of money this
summer. ”
She paused.
“I might say Amelia’s health will not
bear the wear and tear of another fash
ionable season.”
She paused again.
“They would both be true. But they
would not be the main—the principle rea
son.” r
Vesta listened brightly—Amelia sul
lenly.
“John St. Rose is to be at Star
rille.”
Amelia started up—Vesta sat quiet,
but a littleconscious color crept into her
cheek.
“What in the world is he there for,
mother?’’ cried the former,
“He is making some geological ex
aminations with his father—who is such
a brilliant scientist, you know—among
the hills. And now that you know this,
It would be idle to vail my motive ia
sending you to Starville. He is a very
social young man, and he will have very
little society. Under these circum
stances, you have every advantage of se
curing the most brilliant match.”
“Which one of us?” asked Vesta, mis
chievously.
“Either; it is immatcihl to qm. Only .
I should prefer to see Amelia married ,
first—and with her superior knowledge
of society, St. Rose is more likely ”
“Mamma,” interrupted Vesta, “1 !
should really like to go to Starville. 1 |
never was on a farm in my life, and I am
tired of so much excitement as we hsvt
had the past year. But as to making any
advances to John St. Rose, I can nevei ,
do it.”
“You know I dt i’t bid you do any- ,
thing out of character, Vesta—of course
I despise bold girls. Amelia knows what i
I mean.”
“Trust me, mamma ”
Amelia rose snd waltzed twice artund
the apartment. \
“lie's worth two hundred thousand ,
dollars. H« drives the handsomest span ,
I ever saw. He is a irtvfect'r elegant . ,
fellow " ' ,
“And has absolutely no sires.” inter- |
ftipted msmma. “When you have seen {
I more of the world, you will tppreciats
this fact. John St. Rose is really a very i
| eligible match. Somebody's daughtei |
j will secure him- -why not mine?”
“Why not, mamma?” echoed Amelia, ! i
jubilantly. |
There was only one place for summei
boarders at Starville—The Tamaracks— I '
| a farmhouse mansion surrountUd with |
fruits and Hewer /; the pleasantest place In
the world, Vest. thought, as sho reached
the door and sr.w the cool porches, the
lawns and shade trees, and a big black
cat snoozing in a cushioned chair in the
hall.
“How sweet the air is herd Smell
the strawberries, Amelia, and seo the
pinks. How comfortable! I shall just
wear a gingham dress all day, and grow
fat."
“Hush!” said Amelia. “There he is!”
The gentleman in question came briskly
across the lawn—a handsome, graceful
fellow, with English whiskers—and
shook har i r with the ••oung ladies.
“Welcome, welcome!” he said, gayly.
“I began to think I should hate no
society this summer. Mohammed could
not go to the mountain, and so tho
mountain has come to Mohammed. But
this is a very nice place to be exiled to.
It is a world in itself.”
Amelia at once began chatting viva
ciously', while Vesta quickly thought
John St. Rose handsomer than when
she saw him in the last German. But
(tie would not let him have known it for
the world; and so she seemed quieter
than usual; St. Rose thought it owing
to her father’s d; ath, which had occurred
since he saw her last. He had always
fancied tba dainty, brown-eyed girl, but
■t (Zieeeet he had his p n Jds full men tee
black-eyed one.
She was all spirits, life and animation.
She mu«t see the falls and Goldwing
Mountain. She was interested in geo
logical strata, and charmed with his
specimens. He must find a spot to
swing her hammock. Her health was
delicate and his constant attendance in
numerous walks, for its benefit, would
he gratefully received. Vesta was taken
along in these strolls, though she priv
ately rebelled.
There were other boarders—a family
of Greys and a Miss Catherwood, who
openly rebelled at Amelia's appropriation
of the only beau.
“Umph! is she engaged to him?” she
isked, spitefully, of Vesta, one day. as
Bt. Rose and Amelia marched awajron a
Tern expedition. Vesta absolutely refusing
to go.
“Certainly not. But we have known
Mr. St. Rose for a long time,” replied
Vesta, wishing to defend her sister.
“I should think so,” returned Miss
Catherwood, significantly.
“Our mothers were friends.”
“Umph!”
Vesta turned away with a burning
eheek. Others then noticed what a dead
let Amelia was making at the heir of the
St. llose3. Her cheeks burned, and with
an impatient breath she sat down on a
rustic seat outside the door. Well, she
could not help Amelia’s cause, but she
would die before she would thus openly
seek a young man’s attentions! She
would live and die an old maid, or die
poor, rather.
Now, Miss Catherwood did not covet
Mr. St. Rose's attentions on account of
his money—she was herself rich, and
drove the most elegant little pleasure
carriage at The Tameracks. By and-by
she came walking her ponies down the
lawn, and seeing Vesta’s sober face, she
turned her stately head. Honestly, she
liked the sweet faced girl, and her tone
was quite sincere and cordial as she
called:
“Won’t you get your shade hat and
drive with me? lam going to the vil
lage and want company.”
Miss Catherwood could be as agreeable
as she could be disagreeable, and Vesta
longed for a change from her unpleasant
thoughts, so she rose and went for her
hat.
A few rods from tho house they met
Bt. Rose and Amelia returning, and Miss
Catherwood drew r in.
“I have a seat for one of you,” she said,
brightly.
“Thanks,” said St. Rose; “I have an
engagement at noon—but Miss Wylie
would like to go to town, I presume.”
Now, Amelia cordially haled Miss
Catherwood, because she dressed better
than she did, but she assiduously culti
vated her, because the lady moved in the
best society. She readily accepted the
invitation to step into the elegant little
phaeton, and so unconsciously, made a
misstep; for at Starville Centre the car
riage was run into by a heavy team, and,
as the wheelwright could not satisfac
torily repair it until the next day, the
ladies were forced to spend the night at
the village hotel, whioh, fortunately, was
very comfortable.
They returned in good spirits, and
somewhat elated with their adventure;
had a late dinner; and looked about
them. It was a cool, bright afteruoon,
but the tennis-groUDd and the croquet
lawn were deserted—there were no ladies
in the parlor, no gentlemen on the porch;
only a solitary invalid lady sewing in the
wide hall. All the people had gone
“huckleberrying”’ she said—“gone to
Dewings’ Pasture.”
“I know where it is! It is lovely and
cool down there. Let us go!” cried
Vesta.
“Hucklcbcrrying!” cried Amelia, dis
dainfully. “Shall you go?"she inquired
of Miss Catherwood, who was kirtling
up her carriage-drc-s.
“Certainly,” replied the lady, who
thought John St. Rose might be there.
“When I ain in Rome, I always do as the
Romans do.”
Vesta, tripping along, came first into
the Pasture, it was a pretty spot. Great
oaks stood about, and the river nearly
circled it, like a ribbon of blue steel. It
was full of boskv knolls and some kind
of a fragrant bush, honey sweet with
blossoms: and all about rauie the (light
and song of birds.
“Oh.” screamed Vesta, “this is the
prettiest place we have been yet. This
is real country!”
A gray dress and shaker-bonnet rose
op from behind a huge huckleberry
bush. .
“Do you enjoy it so much, my dear!
Well so do I. I have not been hackle
berrying before for forty years. ”
Such a pleasant, aged face, and such a
soft, old voice! Vesta stepped nearer to
the big bush and the little woman.
“I haven't any pail,” she said. “Let
; me help you fill yjurs.”
She had grown quite familiar with the
old lady in the shaker-bonnet in half an
, hour, and the two-quart pail was nearly I
full of the ripe purple fruit when voices
drew near.
“Huckleberries, indeed! I wouldn’t
touch the dirty things for the world
staining one's fingers and getting bugs on I
your clothes! Ugh! Where is Vesta?
Oh, there she is, hard at it, with some i
hideous old woman she has picked up.”
Amelia and Miss Catherwood ap
proached, and John St. Rose was with 1
’ them.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked,
1 cheerily, of the old lady; and then he
; added: “Allow me to present you to my
mother, ladies.”
Mrs. St. Rose took off the shaker-bon
net, and showed her lovely old face
flushed softly with the exercise and ex
-1 ertion.
“It has been a most novel and delight
■ ful afternoon, John,” she said. “And
It is an unusual experience for you, too,
; is it not?” turning to the others, with a
1 look of gentle inquiry. But there was
; something in the keen blue eyes which
mane amelia understand that she had
i been overheard by the hideous old woman.
The latter took her son's arm, while he
took the pail of huckleberries, and tho
party walked slowly out of ths Pasture.
That evening, young St. Rose said:
i “Well, mother, those are the Misses
i Wylie I wrote you of. How do you like
i them?” ,
i ‘ ‘The youngest is a dear little thing.
I I should like her for a daughter.”
“I was not prepossessed in her favor.”
Now, as there was nobody in the world
John St. Rose thought 90 much of as his
beautiful little old mother, it is not to
, be wondered at that these remarks made
, the deepest impression upon him. He
had always thought Vesta pretty. Now,
, as he looked at her brown eyes and mod
est brow, he loved her. And there and
then- fresh from hucklcberrying—he re- |
solved to win her.
Vesta is the young mistress of the ele
gant St. Rose mansion in the city now. •
She is her husband's pride—his old
mother’s darling. The latter tells how
John met her at the station ; how she
was seized with a fancy to join the ber
rying party who started from the hotel
the next day; and what an enchanting
little creaturo she found Vesta from the
first. So some people were very happy,
while others were disappointed, but Mrs.
Wylie congratulates hers< If on the stroke
of policy which has married one of her
daughters “well”—overlooking Vesta's
personal merits as inconsiderable. Ame
lia is still on her hands. —Frank LeiliJs. (
!’" ; I
Inventor Edison's Latest Idea. |
“There Is but one idea I am thinking : ,
>f that I care to talk about,” said 1 j
Thomai Edison. “As soon as I can find (
;imc to go to Florida lam going to make (
tome experiments with earth errrents.
[ cannot do it here, because there is too i
nuch mineral in the soil. In Florida it j j
s all sand. There arc currents of elec
iricity passing all the time through the j
tarth ; their directions, however, are un- ■
mown. I propose to arrange eight cur- j j
cats, radiating in as many directions (
rum a central point. I will place a man : ,
it each circuit t test the power of the j ,
rents. It is well known that if an
sarth current crosses a wire at right |
mglis there is but little if any apprecia- .
' >le effect made upon it. The greatest (
-owe: is felt where the wire and currents j
■ 'un in parallel directions. In Boston I j
i lave run a wire 6ix hours with the au
ora borealis without a battery. If I had (
lad a rod at that time running from New .
Fork to Boston I would have had electric (
lower enough on it to run all the ma- )
1 ihinery in Boston.”
“After you understand the currents, (
shat then
“Well, a know'cdge of them may rev- ]
ilutionize telegraphy. It may revolu- i
lionize the meteorological bureau system
ind make it possible to forecast the j
weather exactly. I have an idea that it
nay do something still greater, but Ido 1
lot care to talk about it at present. Tel- j
igraphiz wires sooner or later will be a
.hing of the past. I believe. They are
•x pensive and cumbersome, and why tuc
;liem if you can make an instrument that
will be sensitive to the natural earth cur- I
•ents?” —Philadelphia Tim s.
Washington's Headquarters in France.
After the surrend r of Yorktown and
;he departure of the French, Washing
on established his headquarters at New
imrgk on the Hudson. The house in
which he lived is carefully preserved and
drown as an historical museum.
There is a pleasant story of La Fay
site’s affectionate remembrance of the
life there. Just before his death, which
occurred in 1834, he gave a dinner party
In Paris to the American minister and
lomc friends who hud been old asso
ciates. Later in the evening, when it j
•atne time for supper, the guests were |
ushered into a room which was in strange
lontrast with the elegance of the apart- ;
nents they had been in. The celling was
low, with large beams crossing it; there
! was a single small, uncurtained window,
imt several small doors. It looked moro 1
i like an old fashioned Dutch kitchen than i
s room in a French house. A long, i
rough table was meagrely set. A dish of |
| meat stood on it. some uncouth looking ,
pastry, and wine in decanters and bottles, ‘ i
i ready to be poured out into glasses and j i
camp-megs. ! 1
“bo you know where sre are now ?” <
taked La Fayette as his c m pinion* ; i
looked about puzzled, and as if in a <
dream. “Au! tho seven doors and one j -
■vindow! and the silver camp goblets! I ]
IVe nre at Washington’s head lUarters on j i
: the Hudson, fifty years ago!" He hud (
i icproduced the room as a surprise to his j 1
i ft lends. -- HI. SichvUn.
Elephantine Tricks nnd Manners.
They were pariug the elephants’ toe
nails when I d oppsd into the circus yes
terday morning. At a motion of Profea
, sor Newman one of the huge brutes
would be loosened and come forward.
| At a word of command it would roll
I over on its side. Then a keeper would
1 straddle one of its tout and begin opera
-1 tious with a draw-shave. The gharp
j edge cut through tho tough, callous sub
stance r.s it would through cheese. The
j chip; i how a light yellow color, with
| pinkish tints. It is three or four inches
thick on some parts of the foot. The
| animals seemed to enjoy the operation.
| It has to be performed tw o or three times
1 a year, Newman raid, in osder that nails
and piece; of glass which may have be
came lodged there may not work up into
the foot. The best elephants for circus
purposes are those from Ceylon. They
nave little or no tusks, and are much
more docile nnd intelligent than the.
highland elephant of India or even
Africa. The Indian highland or “tusker”
elephant is very intractable, and after
he arrives at u certain age, is apt to be
treacheious and ugly. “After they ar
rive at the ago of twenty-five,” said
Newman, “look out for them. Albert,
who was one of tho finest we ever had,
killed a man in one of his fits of rage,and
had to be slain himself. I regard the
elephant as the most intelligent animal
there is. They are remarkably easy to
handle, have great intelligence, and pos
sess great affections and, I sometimes be
lieve. sensibilities. Even the dullest
will astonish us sometimes. I will labor
witli one of them for weeks, till lam
nearly discouraged, trying to teach him
a trick; suddenly, when you least ex
pect it, tic will turn in and do exactly
is you desired. Tom Thumb, the dwarf
clown elephant, lias only been under his
I trainer for a little over two years, and you
see what has been doge with him.
f.'olumbin, over on the other side, is the
' first elephant born in this country. He
won't drink water out of his trough in
] the winter quarters, but turns the laucet
j and takes It fresh from the pipes. Pal
| las, the big animal near the door, can
undo the snap-catch by which the chain
about the foot is secured, so we have to
j use additional means. Alice, Jumbo’s
widow, is an African animal. See how
raw-boued and long-legged she is! And
what large ears. She was very poor
when first brought over, but is now rap
idly fleshing up. Besides her 200 pounds
of hay (which each of our elephants eats)
she takes regularly every day forty
pounds of bread, which is very fattening
food for elephants. ” Chicago Utict.
Dogs That Get Drunk.
Dogs that stay about saloons much of
the time very often acquire a taste tor
beer by drinking water into which a lit
tle beer is poured. The appetite for it
grows until they relish pure beer. They
often become very fat from drinking it.
The most famous of the dog tipplers ever
in the city was Jack, a big mastiff,
owned by John Btougb. He long ago
sunk into a drunkard's grave. The Cir
cle House saloon was his favorite loafing
place, and he was a sort of hail fellow
among the human drinkers who congre
gated there. He would wag his tail and
beg for beer when he saw any one drink
ing, and if his prayer was not answered
he would go behind the counter and lap
from thp drippings in the bucket. He
would sometimes get so drunk that he
would walk on both sides of the pave
ment when he got out. His feet would
he put out slowly and fumhlingly, the
four of them being pushed fa:'out to
four points of the compass to ke p him
from falling. He would often “not go
home till morning.” Early risers have
many a time seen him staggering along
the street, getting home ns best he could.
He was always ill when in his cups, and
those who knew him gave him plenty of 1
room at such times. A local sportsman 1
is said to own a pointer which is of a
rather lazy temperament. The dog keeps 1
his eye out, and whenever he sees his !
master getting his gun ready and fixing
up his wagon to go hunting, hurries to a 1
neighboring saloon and drinks until he 1
is too drunk to move.— lndianapolis 1
Journal. '
The Sea-Water Treatment.
Some of the Paris physicians warmly 1
recommend the treatment of obesity by
the administration of sea water, combined :
with a residence at the seaside. It is '
urged that sea water, taken internally, I
acts like diuretic and purgativg salts, a <
remarkable fact being that tbe diuretic <
effect increases when the purgative di- ]
minishes. The water is to be obtained, ■
when possible, from some depth, nnd far I
from tne shore—being then left to settle ’
for six to twelve hours, and filtered. It <
is to be taken three times a day. in doses '
of a small tumblerful, or in half that ’
quantity at a time with fresh water oi 1
milk. The claim is that sea water thus :
used facilitates the oxygenation of the I
blood, and that it hastens the elimina- ! 1
tion of the effete materials. In combina- ’
tion with this treatment, sca-water baths 1
are to be taken, free exercise is to be 1
carried out, and at the some time fatten- < ]
ing foods are, of course, to be avoided.
In Cose of Sunstroke.
The patient's face, head nnd body aro i
burning hot when sun-truck. The only
thing to do before tbe doctor comes is to i
reduce the temperature of the patient. !
Strip him naked and « rap him in a sheet j i
»et with the coldest water to bo had. If !
this is not practicable, pack the head, !
neck and shoulders in wet cloths, haud
kerchiefs or towels, or whatever is most
convenient, and change the cloths as fast
as they get warm, until the patient re- i
covert consciousness. But ih some cases
work in a warm room produces beat ex
haustion. Tbe face is but slightly
flushed, while tho skin may be moist and
cool. The pulse will then be feeble and
frequent. Rest in a cool room is needed,
with some light stimulant.
Terms. $1.50 per Aim. Single Cop? 5 ceils.
THE LITTLE BANANA PEEL.
Like a bar of the beaten gold
1 I fleam in the summer's sun;
lam little, I know, but I think I can thr*. •
A man that will weigh a ton.
I send out no challenges bold,
I blow me no vaunting horn,
But foolish is he who treadeth on me;
! He’ll wish he had ne’er been born.
Like the flower of the field, vain man
Goeth forth at the break of day;
But when he shall feel my grip on his heel.
Like the stubble he fadeth away;
For I lift him high up in the air,
With his heels where his head ought to be;
With a down-coming crash he maketh hi i
mash,
And I know he’s clear gone upon me.
I am scorned by the man who buys me:
I am modest and quiet and meek;
Though my talents are few, yet tho work
that I do
Has oft made the cellar doors creak.
I'm a blood-red Republican born,
And a Nihilist fearless I b 9;
Though the head wear a crown, I would
bring its pride down,
If it set its proud heel upon mr.
—li. J. Burdette,
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
Tho summer complaint:—lts hoi!—
Lynn Union.
Owners of real estate never build
castles in the air.— Boston Courier.
A rural guide says: “Cuttings root
easily now. 8o do pigs. Tid-Bits.
A tramp’s version—“ Half a loaf is
better than hard work all the time.”—
Life.
“You are trying to make game of me,”
said the buzzard to the sportsman who
tired at it— Merchant- Traveler.
“And so Ella is going to marry Mr.
Peters, hey? What’s his business?” “I
believe his father is a broker.”— TidL-
Bits.
Officer examining recruits—“ Why do
we sulute superior officers?” Recruit—
“ln order to keep out of the guard
house.” — S'. Louis Whip.
Every dog has its day, and the summer
boarder has found out that a country
dog’s day begins about 4 o’clock in* tho
morning.— Boston B '•.con.
An exchange says that ice two inches
thick will support a man. In midsum
mer it supports the ice man and iiis en
tire family.— Philadelphia Gull.
Cyclone insurance companies are being
organized in the West. The Western
cyclone is such a healthy affair that we
didn’t suppose it was necessary to insure
it. — Norristown Herald.
The pretty maiden fell overboard, and
her lover leaned over the side of the boat
aa she rose to tho surface, and said :
“Give me your hand.” “Please ask
papa,'’ she said as she sank for the sec
ond time.— Boston Courier.
“An Italian claiming the title of Count
has been proved an imposter.” lie proba
bly came to this country unaccompauiecl
by a monkey and a hrnd organ. The ab
sence of such aristocratic insignia would
immediately give him away.— Norristown
Herald.
TE GENTLE MAIDEN.
In a hammock idly swinging.
Swinging in the shade,
While the birds are round her singing*
Lies the gentle maid.
She is dreaming dreams delicious.
Though she knows full well
That her mother’s washiug dishes
In the kitchoD L.
—Boston Courier,
Washington at Yorktown.
One who was in the army at the time
relates an incident that came under his
notice:
“A considerable cannonading from the
enemy; one shot killed three men, and
mortally wounded another. While the
Rev. Mr. Evans, our chaplain, was
standing near the comm;\ndcr-in-chic f a
shot struck the ground so near a to
cover his hat with sand. Being much
agitated, he took off his hat, and said:
‘See here, General!’ ‘Mr. Javans, ’ re
plied his excellency, with hijmsual com
posure* ‘you'd better cany that home
and show it to your wife and children.”*
Indeed it seemed to many that Wash
ington bore a charmed life, nnd it was
often said that he was uuder the special
protection of God. He was (earless, and
constantly exposed to danger* but his
constant escapes made him cool and self
possessed and the admiration of liis men.
He was excited by the events which were
hurrying the war to the close, and he
watched with intent earnestness the sev
eral assaults which were made on tho
works. Once he bad dismounted and
was standing by Generals Knox and
Lincoln at the grand battery. It was
not a safe place, for, though they were
behind a fortification, it was quite possi
ble for shot to enter the opening through
which they were looking. One of his
aids, growing nervous, begged him to
leave, for the place was very much ex
posed.
“If you think so,” said Washington,
“you are at liberty to step back.” Pres
ently a ball did strike the cannon, and*
rolling off, fell at Washington's feet.
General Knox seized him by the arm.
“My dear General,” said he, “we can’t
spare you yet.”
“It’s a spent ball,” replied Washing
ton, coolly. “No harm is done.” Ho
watched the action until the redoubts
which his men had been assaulting were
taken; then he drew u long breath of rc
lief nnd turned to Knox.
“The work is done,” he said emphatic
ally; “and well done.”— St. Nicholas.
The scientific definition of “bright
sunlight” is the power of the sun s rays
through a circular burning glass to lea®a
their mark on the sensitive paper on
which they full. This piece of paper is
the record o( the day s sunshine.