North Carolina Newspapers

THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER. VOL. 111. NO. 11 - : - ■ - ~ THE Charlotte Messenger IS rUBT ISHEIT Every Saturday, AT CHARLOTTE, N. C. In the Interests of the Colored People of the Country. Able and well-known writers will contrih ute to its columns from different parte of the country, and it will contain the latest Ctai oral News of the day. Tnn Messenger is a first- class newspaper nnd will not allow personal abuse in its col limns It is not sectarian or partisan, but independent—dealing fairly by all. It re serves the righ tto criticiso the shortcomings • # )f all public officials—commending the worthy, and recommending for election such men as in its opinion are liest 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 Carolina*. SUBSCRIPTIONS: {Always in Advance.) l year - - $1 r, o x months - - - 1 (K) nionths - - - 7;, l months - - ;,<> months - - . 40 Ad Iress, W.C. SMITH, Charlotte) N. C. Faulk County, Dakota, has no bonded indebtedness; the District Court has never had any criminal cases from that county, and the Judge has never had occasion to hold a session of court there. The reason is this: Faulk County has never had a licensed saloon within its borders. But it lias twenty-four Sunday schools, with a thousand members. Some correspondents have made in quiries about the water towers used by the New York Fire Department, and the letters show that there is much curiosity in distant places concerning those con trivance3 which enable the firemen to extinguish flames in lofty buildings in this city without danger. A water tower is a large iron tube, supported on a truck by a turn-table. The big end of the tube is fastened to the table by means of a hinge and cog wheels, which are moved by a crank. By turning the crank two men can elevate the tube from a hori zontal to a vertical position. The tube is in sections, and these sections are un screwed and packed on the truck except when the tower is brought into play at a fire. When the tower is raised in front of a burning building the hose from two or three tire engines can be connected with the lower end of the tube and the water pumped by all the engines goes up through the tube and out of a big nozzel at the top. A wire cable enables the firemen to raise or depress the end of the nozzel, while the motion of the turn table works the nozzel in another direc tion. The tower is used to throw large streams of water directly into the upper stories of high buildings when flames in the lower stories prevent the firemen from entering, or when the front walls are too unsafe to permit the firemen to reach the upper windows by means of ladders. The New York Fire Depart ment Ims three water towers at present, but only two of them arc kept in active service. Newport has a phenomenal Mayor, whose characteristics are set down by a correspondent as follows: “This Mayor Powel is probably unique among the Mayors of American cities. An aristocrat by bi.th and life, a man of wealth and almost secluded habits,he is held in equal esteem by swells and common people. When he was induced to run for Mayor only twenty-five men out of 1,700 voters could be found to vote against him, and these votes were all scattering. The local politicians knew that his choice was their temporary death, but not one ven tured to stand for the office. His eon duct since he was elected has been with out example. If he wants a thing done and there is no appropriation handy to take care of it, lie draws his own cheek for the amount and won't be reimbursed. There was an old man on the police whose efficiency was gone. Mayor Powel could not conscientiously reappoint him, and so he dropped him from the force— with a generous gift from his own pocket to compensate him for the loss of his position. Tin re was no money with which to bring the burglar Ingle back from the West, and Mayor Powel drew his own cheek for the entire sum needed. He is spending a considerable share of h : s income, by all accounts, on the city of Newport. It is easy to see how inval uable such a Mayor must be to a city where there is not only a strong objec tlon to spending the public money, but also a masterly predisposition against.en ergetic action of any sort. Probably if ’obn Hare Powel were willing to be Mayor of Newport for the remainder of his life, th" people would be glad to have him. But the chances are that he will not accept another term.” CHARLOTTE, N. C. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, IBBG. COMPENSATION. The sun when setting in the Its daily course has run; The rising moon has only then Its journey vast begun. And thus, when one bowed down with years, Finks gladly to his rest, Another soul app?ars on earth— A heaven sent bequest. —Mrs. Mamma, in Good Housekeeping. GAY FEATHER. It was nightfall of a November day. The dull red disk of the setting sun was slowly sinking behind the peak of a dis tant “divide.” It dropped from the sharp point,and instantly a flool of mel low light poured along the 9ky, bringing out in bolu relief the long, jagged out line of the range, tinting the white capped pe iks wdth soft rose color, and, by vivid contrast, making still blacker the wide expanse of the plains with their herbage burnt by recent fires. To the left was a small creek whose winding course was marked by a fringe of scrubby willows, and w hose waters flowing down from the rocky lit art of the mountain, were chilled by the eternal snows. Suddenly, far to the eastward, there appeared amid the purple and brown shadows, a strange, lurid glow, and be hind it, a writhing, serpentine length— like the trailing body of a huge dragon with a single gleaming eye. It swept along, the light grew larger, there was a prolonged whistle whose shrill echoes were repeated from the distant rocky re cesses, and then the express with its long lino of cars steamed into the little station at Amcriila and stopped short with many a snort and sizzle. As usual, a crowd had assembled to greet it 3 arrival. A score of miners “from up the gulch,” several officers from the garrison, two or three Mexicans with clanking sp irs and gay-striped blankets, together with sundry women and children—ail laughing aud chatting. To the left of the station, a party of In dians formed a picturesque group. All xv re mounted on shaggy ponies. Among them was a young girl with a smooth, well shaped face, bright eye* and lithe form. :he was dress d more gayly than the two eldeily squaws who were her companions. A bright blanket was thrown o erhor slender shoulders, and beneath it was a dress of red and blue striped calico. Her feet were incased in neat moccasins, trimmed with colored porcupine quills; a string of beads was around her neck, and in her ’oag black hair were braided vari-hued feathers. Her face wore neither the heavy stolidity nor the half-repressed erocity of her race its expression was gentle, almost mel ancholy. I here was a pathetic droop to the sensitive lips, and a mild, pleading look in her s..lt, dark eyes. As the train stopped* she leaned for ward 0:1 hj r pony, an eager, expectant look overspreading her face. Among the first to alight from the cars was a tall, handsome man, wearing an officers uni form ; and closely foliowing him came the trim, dainty figure of a pretty young lady, who, amid the motley crowd, seemed lik»; some delicate blossom dropped down in a tangle of weeds. The women at the station stared at her with unaffected admiration, not un« mingled with a little envy. “Hcigli! But she's a rare one!” ex claimed Jenny, the Scotch sergeant’s wife. “She’s as dainty as a bit of heather!” “Humph! A stuck-up baggage. I’ll warrant; though, for the matter o’that, her gowr.d isn't silk even!” said Mrs. Grosse, the wife of the “agent,” who, rich in her husband's spoils, gloried in the possession of the only satin dress at Amcriila. “Weel, she’s a bonny bride, anyhow,” persisted Jenny, “an’ I don't wonder •hat the Lieutenant feels proud of her.” “And I wonder what Gay Feather ’ll uy,” said Mrs. Grosse, with* a disagree able laugh and a knowing look at the In dian giil we have mentioned. 'I he latter caught both glance and re mark. A faint, red g’ow overspread her dusky cheeks. She drew herself up proudly, uttered p brief word of com mand to her pony and dashed away thro igh the crowd, ihe mud from her horse’s heels plentifully bespattering Mrs. Grasse’s gown. “Drat these redskins!’’ muttered the agent’s wife. But Gay Feather heeded not this be nign remark She kept steadily on her way toward where the rose-tinged sky bent down and touched the gloom of the earth. Her lithe form, gracefully erect, stood out in fine relief against the l&st fading light. 'I he young bride turned to look at her. “Isn’t that one of your Indian b Ilea?” she asked, “isn’t she pretty, Ellis' 1 wonder if 1 could ever learn to ride like that! Do look at her.” “Hush!’ said Lieutenant Armand. “Don't stop here.” His voice sounded strangely har-h. and, half frightened at its tone, the pretty bride looked up int» his face It was white and stern, but relaxed a little at her appealing glance. “1 didn't mean to be severe, Amy,” he said, pressing the small hand resting on his urin. “But I want to get into our cabin as quickly as possible There's a rough set here, and 1 can’t b< ar to have you stared at.” Young Mr*. Armand soon realized that she was indeed among a “rough act.” True, sin- found novelties, but there was little poetry. Instead, the plain proaeof human nature, degraded beyond anything she had ever sen 1. Amerilla was not a pleasant place for a refined woman. But Lieutenant Armand had not thought much about that when he took h a bride from her Eastern home It was not in his selfish nature to b very cons derate of others. Though not bad at heart, hia early training had been void of those in fluences which tend to mold character aright, and his after-life had been wild and irregular. But l:« had dctrrminrd to reform row, for he loved this fair maiden with no fleeting passion, hut a strong abiding affeetion. There were times, though, when ha wna sent on duty to the fort or to various trading-stations that she could not help feeling lonely and homeless. I’pon a certain day.durinz oneof these instance*, as sho sat in ner cabin, striving to interest herself in a hook, she heard the voice of Mrs, Grosse, who lived ueat to her, raised in shrill anger. "You go ’long, you impudent bag gage? We don’t want none o' your kind here! What if your young one is sick an’ like to die - it'll he good riddance to had rubbish! Go home to some of your Big Medicine Men an’ let them chatter their gibberish over him! You shan't get noth : n’here, so go ’long! Leave, I say, or I’ll set the dog on ye!” Amy Armand opened the door and looked out. A few rods away, crouching amid the knotted buffalo-grass, was the Indian girl she had noticed on the night of her arrival—Gay Feather. She had a liitic papoose with her -not strapyed on her back as was the custom—but carried tenderly in her arms. Its small face was wa-ted and pain-drawn. I’oor Gay leather’s own face was haggard with anxiety. She sprang to her feet as Amy ap pvoachcd her, and, uttering a brief cx* eiane.tion in ber native tongue, was about to move swiftly away. But thf young wife laid her white, restraining hand on the dusky shoulder. "Don’t be afraid of me." she said, gently. "Tell me what you want, and perhaps, I can help you.” Vis. Gros e regarded the two from her doorstep. She gave a shrill, unpleasant laugh: "To think o’ you s talkin' tt her!" she muttered, with a srgnittcancr that was quite lost on Amy. And with that she went in, banging the door after her. "Is the baby s'ek?" continued Amy. Gay Feather seemed to hesitate before answering. Y"ct somehow, Amy’s aym pathetic face and voice exerted a magic influence. "Yes. papoose very sick—him die!’’ she said, at last, with a pathetic brev iiy. •‘Oh, maybe not! He has a fever, I sec. You went medicine for him?” Gay Feather's face brigtened. "Yes," she said. “But agent’s squaw say Xu! She drove poor Indian away! Me be lieve Great Father at Washington not know what devil agent’s wife is!" and there was an angry flash from the dark eyes. Amy Armand was the eldest of a large family. She was used to children nud chi.(lren’s diseases. He practiced eyes saw- at once what the baby needed, and, alter asking a few questions, she ran iuto th cabin, and going to her incdiciuc chest. drew from it the required drugs. These, together with a few simple direc tions, she gave to Gay Feather, and with a softened, grateful look, the Indian girl departed. ****** Winter with its drifting snows and iry blizzards swept over the plains, burying the little station at Amentia in tempor ary oblivion. But even the dreariest season comes to an end, and presently Amy Armand awoke to a consciousness that, after all. nature had garments of beauty with which to clothe this barren dcs dation. With the coining of the spring sunshine, the scrabhy grass m died into a thick carpet, dotted here and there with the gorgeous blue, scar let and yellow of Western blossoms. The pale green of the willows stood out against the datker color of the hills, and the creek, warm now and limpid, swept on atu’d flowery banks. But in the midst of this freshness and beauty was a horror greater than that of storm - and isolation—a honor that daily in reused. Humors ramo that the In dians on th • neighboring reservation, rebellious after ttie long winter of de privation. anil conscious that they had been shamelully cheated hy the dishonest agent, were now. like hungry wolves, getting ready to spring forth upon their oppressors. As yet they were sit nt— but it was that sullen, ominous silence which precedes a storm lint hero and there council-fires lighted up the evening shadows, and now and then an Indian dashed by, and a glimpse at hia face re rev,-aled it dabbled in ochre and ver milion. But this did not seem to trouble the agent. Job Grosso was a fit companion lor his coarse spouse, lie was an igno rant, rough fellow, wholly unprincipled in his dealings with the Indians. To him they were as so many dogs, to bo kicked and cursed, lie laughed con temptunnsly when some of ‘ his more timid companions hinted of war paint tind “pow wows,’’ and begged that he would have the feeble garrison rein forced. The faet was, the station at Amerilla Imd never been so poorly gusided as now. Lieutenant Armand. together with u dozen men. had gone ten miles west ward to a trailing station It was not without misgivings that he left Amy behind. Well - trained soldier that he wa«. he sniffed danger from afar. "Good by. sweetheart." he said, at parting. "Take go«sl rare of yourralf. 1 swear somehow I dread to leave you! But cheer up! When I come hack, I will see if I can't get stationed at s 'me larger post; it will be far safer and more pleasant for you." A night or two after Ilia departure, Amy was awakened from a sound -loop She sat up in bed gating about her with a benildeied air. For a minute every thing w» quirt. The soft moonlight of a May evening streamed in at the ou t small window, and away in the dletanre sounded the rippling waters of the creek. But suddenly demon,seal yells broke the serene silence. Then came pistol shots and wild commotion. Trembling in every limb. Amy sprang from her lied nnrl hurriedly dressed herself. Flinging n shawl aro tnd her, see opened the door j am- cautiously peered out. It was ns she had feared. The Indians were attacking the station. Already the air rang with the shrieks of the dying. Sick with horror, Amy turned to flee, she scarcely knew whither, when sud denly from out the shadow of a tall cot tonwood tree near by, there sprang a lithe figure- -it, was Gay Feather. “Gome, paleface lady, come with me -quick!" sho panted, seizing Amy by the arm. For an instant the young wife hesita ted. Was this treachery? she asked her self. One glance at the ledian girl’s sin cere though anxious face reassured her. "Where are we going?" she asked, as they sptd ulong in the darkness. "Me not tell now—no time talk! Hurry!’’ Down among the willows by the creek was found the shaggy pony, tied, as Gay Feather had evidently left him. "Him little, but st'ong," slic said. Ho carry us both.” They mo inted the animal, and guided hy the Indian gir's careful band, sho stepped on briskly. Behind them the sky was all ablaze with the burning sta tion. Before them the dark expanse of the plains stretched away till it met the i silver tipped gray of the horizon. "You are very kind, Gay Feather,” . said Amy, patting the dusky arm thrown ! around her. “How came you to think i of saving me?" "Me know Indians kill um at station. Me no care for ageat nor agents’s squaw; ! and all the rest bad, too. But you you 1 give medicine for little papoose, lie get well—laugh, crow, kick he’s little foots. Me not want you killed, so me come— Hist! what is” that!" Suddenly, like a dark wind cloud, a band of warriors dashed by them, in mad pursuit of a fugitive soldier. The sav ages were too intent on overtaking their victim to perceive the horse and its riders, all of which were in the shadows of the willows. Instinctively, Gay Feather leaned forward to screen Amy from random shots, aud as she did so a s:r. y butler pierced her own side. Without a groan, she slipped from the saddle and sank upon the grass. The pony, as if conscious that sonic accident had taken place, stood still. Amy alighted and knelt beside the Indian girl. "Gay Feather, my poor Iricnd! Are you much hurt?" she whispered. Gay Feather looked up and smiled. "Me hurt bad—think. But never mind, pretty paleface! You take pony and go on. Follow creek. Keep in shadow—be careful—let no Indians get you. Hurry!" “Xo! no! I can’t leave you so! Do you hear, good girl?” But the faithful Indian woman made no response; she had sunk into a state of unconsciousness. Amy sat beside her and drearily waited. As long is she lives she will never forget that night! The distant yells died away; tlic lurid gleams from the burning station faded out of the sky; all was silent, save the moan of the night-wind and the murmur of the waters, sharply broken now ai;d then by the vclp of a prowling coyote. After hours of agonizing sus pense, a faint light began to tinge the eastern sky. Fleecy clouds of rose and told floated towards the zenith; the dingy brown of the plains took on a soft amethyst, deepened here and there pv purple shadows; the white cones of Jar away peaks teemed bathed in floating, misty glory Thank God! The morn ing had come! With the rising of the Min tens seen in the distance a party of horsemen, and it was with feelings of in tense relief that Amy recognized thu familiar dark bln: uniffirms of array ollircrs; and that, relief was changed into great joy when she beheld, riding at the head of the band, to r own husband, Lieutenant Armand. Mounting the pony and waving her shawl to attract atten tion, she dashed forward to meet i.im. "Amv! you here? Thunk Gr,d! We heard that an attack was to be made, and I have been riding hard ever since midnight. But how come you here, and aaved. “It was dear, kind Gay Feather, who saved me," said Amy. “Gay Feather!” stammered her hus band. hia faee turning red and then deathly pale. In a« few words as possible, Amy re lated the circumstances, at the same time leading him to the place where lay the Indian girl. She was till breathing, but it was with much difficulty. As they drew near, -he opened her eyes and smiled. “Me save your palefaced squaw, Lieu tenant Armand," she said, in her low, musical voice, “.''he good squaw ; you must be kind to herallyour life!'’ litre she paused, *nd beckoned him to draw nearer. Be.irhing up two slender, brown arms, she drew his head down to her face, and whispered; “Don't cry— hravc never cry—only squaw do that! Me forgive— The sentence was never finished, for th* dsrk eyes closed, and poor Gay Feather was gone!— Mary K ttruth. Tenacity of Vegetable Life. A gentleman living in this city re reived a few weeks eg > a small twig in an envelope, taken from his mother’s grave in l’osen, Germany. The twig was all but quite faded. The leaves fell off immediately. One small portion of the stem alone preserved its green color and appeared tr lie 1 lightly moist. Giv ing it to his wife, lie thought nothing more about it until the othri day she brought to him a little flowerpot con taining a small tdant looking like a fuehaia and standing four inches high. It bears a number of small leaves on its slender atom and shows every evidence of life. Thia twig had traveled 7,010 mile* in a common envelope, in which it had lain about three week*. The lady who nurted it ba k In life rut the stem open at tho bottom, inserted a grain of wheat and planted it in n flowerpot with the if markable result stated. —Sin f'ran cit e Cimuds GIANTS OF THE FOREST, \ SOMETHING ABOUT THE 810 TREES OF CALIFORNIA. A Passageway in One Tree Trunk Through Which a Hix - Horso Team was Driven. Erastus Brooks describes in the New York Mail and Express an interesting trip which he has just made to the fa mous big trees of California. Mr. Brooks says: The big trees, so famous in the coun try aud the world over, where they are known, were tlie object of our last visit after leaving the Yoscmite Valley. It cost a ride from fi o’clock in the morn ing to 0 in tho evening, with a rest of little more than an hour. One-half of the ride, first from tho valley and then to the big trees, made a double climb of about 2,040 feet from a level of 4,0 )0 fret above the sea. These high climbs, even with six horses, mean but about two in! lea an hour, and the descent is less than five niHes. Our special errand was to visit the big trees of California, one of the objects of our long journey from home. From San Francisco and back the cost was about fifty dollars for each passenger, the distance being both ways, rail and coach, about 450 miles. The extras, for extra trips, etc., are not included in this charge. The best hotels cu route charge you $4 each day, and in the valley, except for food and bods, arc not comfortable. But to the big trees. Tho land granted by the State covers four sections, and the whole is under the control of a so-called “guardian,” or caretaker, who knows how to profit by his place in the safe of cones, seeds, works in wood, canes, etc., cut from the mouaiohs of the forest,dead and living. There are several hundred of these nionarchs, and cutting or main ing them in any way is forbidden by law. But the law has not been respected, and where the curious thousands and more come each year the law is not likely to be obeyed. We visited the largest of the number, first “the Grizzly Giant,” at Mariposa Grove, half burnt up years gone by, by the fire fiends who, as herders of sheep, campers or trampers, set fire to the woods. Three fourths of all the big trees have been thus scorched or burned. Many of them, which seem wholly dead in their lower trunks, flour ish at their majestic tops. Tho Grizzly Giant is thirty-three ieet in diameter, and the next in size is the “Watnona,” measuring twenty-eight feet in diameter. The circumference of the first was, by our hasty measurement, ninety-five feet, and the Wamona, under the limbs of whit li we rode with our six-horse team and twelve people, the tree covering the four seated stage and more than the height and length of two of the horses aud the long and high stage. This pas sageway had been cut from the body of the tree. Many of these mammoths of the forest have honored names. One is called the Washington, and one, the Lincoln, is close at hand; Longfellow, Whittier, Tennyson, Bryant. Brewster, Bowles, Gray, Harva d, and I know not how many others have a tree set apart by their friends in memory of their moral worth or bodily presence. The burning of these trees as far ns the fire fiend has con sumed them, is not all a work or record of modem times. The fires of some of the number were too long ago, and the untutored Indian is charged with being their first and greatest destroyer. Yet no one can fail to sec just how they look and what they are. The trunk of the big tree we visited at Puebla, on our way to the Pacific, had before being rut down the modest age of 380 years, and a circumference of only twenty-eight feet, but it cost $250 to cut it down in June, 18815. It was and is the oldest landmark of the country, and to add to Its elevation wc are assured that •fourteen men hung upon one limb and thirty-six persons were massacred while camping near it. Buffalo Bill, Kit (.'ar son, Wild Bill and other Indian scouts are among those who were familiar with the past history of this monarch of the forest at Puebla; but the Puebla tree was as a pigmy compared with the great giants in the l nited States Park at Mari posa. Some Big Watermelons. “How big was the largest watermelon I ever saw Well, now, let mo see I have been in the busiuess since 1850,” said Mr. Hanson i\ Barnes, the commis sion merchant, ‘ and I have seen melons >n this wharf which weighed as high as seventy live pounds, but there lipvc been authentic reports of some which went as high as eighty pounds. The largest melons are not always the best. “There are various ways of judging a watermelon. 'I hose who have to linn ilc them are educat'd by experience to known rile melon on sight, *ut if the skin breaks crisply when rut into with the thumb nail, or a peculiar hollow sound is emitted when tapped with the knuckle, or if th? meat is heard to break with a brittle so md when tho fruit is suuf zed, the un ion is generally ripe. The ‘scaly bark’ docs not respond k aoiy to the squeezing or rapping t.?st, as a two hundr* d-pound man mi/ht sit upon one without crushing the meat; yet when cut the melon might prove a prime one hy its dark red meat and black *ced. “The general tendency in ..nproving th" melon is to get round fruit and thin rinds, thus obtaining a greater amount of meat in Ihe space handled and obvi nt ng crumpled fruit, whi**h may be npc at on end while the long thin ends are uscl s 4. Th • ‘ice rincs* fill tho bill in this respect, bit Uugh rinds are culti vate 1 tor shipping purposes!”—Balti more. 8 an. ft is estimated that about 100.001 Species of flowering plants arc now auown to Ixilnuists, but a more complete exploration of the globe may largely in* crease or.evim doable the number. Terms. $1,50 per Annum. Single Copy 5 cents. THEY NEVER COME BACK AGAIN. Oh, the days, the days in the dear old past, With their kisses, their blisses and paint My heart droops sad ’neath the overcast, For they never come back again. Oh, my cup was brimmed with pleasure's delight, And my sky was sunny and clear, But the morrow’s blank as I look to-nfgh* Through the glim’ring veil of a tear. Come back, come back, dear days agons With your kisses, your blisses and pain. For my heart droops sad as I wait o’erlong For the days that ne’er come again. Swept off on the ebbing tide afar, My barque that was light and gay; And I waited long at the harbor bar For its sails to return this way. Ah, nevermore'll come back to me The kisses and blisses of yore; For I see ’yond the posts of eternity The rain and the shadows pour. The sweet, sweet past, with its fond delight, Is lost in the darkness drear, And the morrow’s blank as I gaze to-night Through the glim’ring veil of a tear. The world’s as bright as of yester-e’en And hearts are light and gay, But my soul’s a drear as I gaze on the scene, And dream of a long-gone day— The pressure of lips and clasp of hands, Like phantoms adrift in the rain, Like spirits afar in the shadow lands— But tho days they ne’er come again. — H. S. Keller , in New York Clipper. HUMOR OF THE DAY. Straws show which way the cobbler goes. —Boston Post. There is nothing that makes a man so warm as talking conlinually about the heat. An enthusiastic meeting—two girls who haven’t seen each other for an hour. —Burlington Free Fress. Fourhunters‘(who have just fired simul taneously at a rabbit and failed to hit it) —“Well, I wonder who missed that time.” —Fliegmde Blactter. Keely, the motor man, U3cd to be head waiter in a hotel. That is where he got the wonderful patience with which he waits for his motor to mote.— New Haven News. The claims of the Anarchists that their aim was to elevate their fellow-men is all right. What we object to is the stuff they wanted to elevate them with.— Lowell Citizen. “What is wanted in this country.” said the bride, as she examined the wed ding presents, “is not civil service re form, but silver service reform. This set is plated.”— Bost n Courier. Tidbits tells the story of a conductor on a slow railroad who to cl one passen ger that he had been on the road for nine years. “Then,” said the passenger, “this must be your second trip.” , “A barrel wouldn’t be sufficient to carry you over Niagary,*’ said the con ductor to a man who was trying to sprawl himself over four seats in a crowded pas senger car. “You would need a hogs head.”—Texas S/cings. If you have an enemy do not buy his boy a drum. Your enemy w ould proba bly kick through the sheepskin within twenty-four hours Buy his next door neighbor’s boy a drum. It will work just as well and he can’t get at it.— Somerville Journal. AN ENGAGEMENT BROKEN. The maiden took her chewing gum And placed it on a chair. For she had heard her lover come With swift feet up the stair. Upon the chewing gum he sat— The joyous hours Hew i>aat-~ But when he rose to take his hat He found himself stuck fast. “Oh! worse disaster never .was,” She cried as out she ran: *1 ne’er can marry yon because You aro a fast young man.” —Boston Courier, Alligators ns Pets. Alligators as pets arc getting to be more and more the thing, aud the trade in these queer reptiles has grown to be quite an important industry among North William street dealers in zoological curios. When the young alligators are born in Southern swamps in the spring the natives go and gather them in. Tin* warm months find them in New York, where an alligator eight inches long and probably five months old may be pur chased if you go to the proper place—* for from $1 to if 2. The increased demand began about two years ago. The World’s Fair in New Orleans taught Northern visitors to the Fren h quarters to look w ith kindly eyes upon the lizard's big brother. There is a little old bird store in the Rue Hoyale where they were sold bv dozens at fifty and seventy-five cents each, ami a neat little l>ox furnished, so that the pets could be carried away. Os course, some of them came to New York and aroused the interest of that growing class of peo pie who arc always on the lookout for something new to caress or to talk about. The inevitable result was a brisk trade in infant amphibians by the William street folk. A Lexington avenue giil enjoys pat ting the expansive brow of a fourteen inch alligator that is over two years old. Bhe has a silver collar around its throat ami a chain attached to it. sed the well bred *au*iun follow* her like a pet dog. The baby alligator is usually k- pt in a large globe acquarium with a gravel bank rising out of the water on w hich it rests. Its food is taw meat, and it requires only a small quantity. One meal every two days is enough. It develops slowly and is very easily tam'd.— New York World. A new industry has been started along the line of the Bangor and Pisca.aqub railroad. It is the shipping of fir boughs for pillows.