THE REPORTER AND POST.
| v '
VOLUME VI.
THE I'RIZM or ARC.
A youth I'apt out from childhood's thrall,
His onward course to run,
Y'ltli stern resolve to rise or fall,
By duties bravely done.
He reck'd not ways that led to pain,
Nor thought he of the past;
II is only hope was hence lo gain
The student's prize at lust.
The INXIH was gained, while yet the spring
" • Was iu its golden j rime ;
Ere birds hail tuned tlrou t'iroats to aui£
The joys of summer time.
Tho*' days now gone, the strife aud din
Of commerce bind liini fast;
The youth lius yet a prize to win—
' A home through lU'e to last.
The same proud zeal that lent him power
The boy's bright go.il to reach,
Still leads him forth, in stemci hour,
To do what parents teach.
No more he heeds the coldly wise,
Who round him dangers east;
For now he holds life's golden prize—
A trusting heart at last.
'Tis thus ambition leads us on,
From childhood unto age;
No price so high but may lie won.
At nil sitic ediug ttage.
Let youth be warn'd, .hough tatr seem hard,
And hope lie overcast,
llow oft in life i ur first reward
onward to the last !
The Little Pauper.
A Hketcli or Heal Lire.
-* merry party of young people were
assembled one wiuter evening at a large
old fashioned farm-house. They chose
the great kitcheu as the scone of their
sj orts, and very pleasant it looked with
the huge fire roaring and crackling up
on the hearth, sending volumes of flaiuc
up tho wide nnutii of tho chimney and
lighting up the wholo room with a ruddy
fclow.
In a corner sat Farmer Green aud his |
»\fe,siuiliiTgly watching the happy group.
I >ne gauie quickly followed another,
while merry voices aud peals of laughter
clioed over the house.
Half hidden in shadow far away from !
the rest,, sat a small boy, resting his pale |
check upon his hand, and gazing with
melancholy eyes upon tho scene. He
was very poorly dressed; there woro
great patches upon his knees aud holes j
in his shoos; his jacket was too short, j
und bis old vest was too long ; but his
face and hands were scrupulously clean, !
mid the soft brown hair was carefully j
curbed from his high forehead. To an '
earnest observer liters was something at- !
tractive aud noble in his countenance : [
no one appeared to notice hiui, uutil the
farmer spoke,
"Eiward," said he in a commanding
tone, "bring iu some inore| wood and
tlum see if tho water pails are filled,
&nd don't slay uiopiug as you usually
do."
The boy arose aud left the room.
He went out into the frosty air; tie
Mars wero shining brightly above him ;
lie looked upward, while a tear rolled
over his cheek.
"O, mother, mother!" he murmured
softly, "can you sec yonr poor Eddio ?
arc you in heaven, mother, above tho
stars ? 0,1 am sad—so very sad to
night !*'
Wiping his eyes on his tattered sleeve,
lie piled the wood upon his slender arui
und thou staggering under his burden '
re-entered the kitchen. Shouting and
laughiug the ] arty were in the midst of i
'blind man's buff,' each trying to elude !
tho grasp of William Green who with i
outstretched arms was determined to on- j
sure a speedy capture. In the confu- '
some one ran against Edward, who fell,
scattering the sticks of wood in every
diroctioo and causing also the fall of j
William. Springing from his scat the
former seized Edward by the collat aud
jerked him to the floor.
"You careless follow !" be exclaimed
angrily, "yen deserve flogging ! 1 won
der if I ever set you to do anything that '
was done as it ought to be !"
'I couldn't help tl, sir,'sobbed Edward, j
"Hash ! none of your falsehoods, make
baste, and piok up the wood, quick, or
1 will box your ears soundly."
The child obeyed and order was soon
restored. His face was sadder than ev
er, when a short tiiuo afterwards he sat
in the corner craoking nuts for the coiu
pany.
••Poor fellow ! how pitiful he looks !"
whispered a gentle girl to Emma Green,
••I am sorry for him."
"Pshaw" replied Emma, "he's only
a little pauper —father took him frotu tho
aims bouse!"
••Only apMpar!" Edward beard
these words, s*d his hesrt swelled as
though it would burst. Great tears
« filled his eyes and rolled slowly over his
I wan cheeks.
"What are you snivelling about now,
" 1 wonder!" tatd the farmer, succr
ingly, "if you've finished cracking the
nuts, you'd bcttei be off to bed, and
mind that you jet up in the morning
without being called a dozen times."
Gladly the lonely boy sought his rude
couch, but he could not sleep. He
heard ttie merry voices and laughter be
low and contrasted his eituation with that
of the others.
"All happy butnie," be sobbed, they
have parents and pleasant homes
but 1 have none, nobody loves or cares
for n>e, lam a pauper! O, 1 wish I
was dead!',
He wept until lie was exhausted ; then
he lay quietly gazing through the un
curtained window at the bcatiful stars,
and thinking of his mother, lie won
dered if heaven was very far off, and if
God would not pity him and take him
there soon.
"O mother, dear mother!'' he moan
ed, "why did you die aud leave me alone
—alone ?"
The old clock in the kitel.en struck
twelve, one and two, and still the un
happy boy sobbed faintly At last he
fell asleep and dreamed of the pleasant
home which once was his.
The sun was shining into the windows
when lie was awakened by the voice of
the farmer calling him loudly. With
trembling haste lie dressed and descend
ed the stairs.
"This is line!" cried the farmer,"did
I not toll you to get up early ! will you
ever learn to obey me, you ungrateful
boy ! now eat your breakfast if you think
you deserve any, aud theo make haste
auJ do your chores; 'mind, you'll
not stir a step to school until they arc
all finished!"
With light steps aud happy hearts,
Willie aud Kmiiia hastened to the school
i room, but it was long past the hour of |
) nine when poor Edward took his accus
-1 touted scat. Discouraged aud heart
l broken, he cared little about study : to
him the future looked hopeless. At
noon the children went upon the ice to
play, only two or three lingered at the
| school room. Kdward laid his aching
; head upon a desk and buried his face in
j h :  hands. Suddenly he felt a soft
I touch upon his brow, and locking up, he
I met the gaze of two beautiful eyes,
while a gentle voice said pityingly :
"What makes you so sad to-day
"I have nothing to make me happy,"
j he replied.
"I'm sorry for you, Eddie—very sor
| ry," said the little girl earnestly, "don't
| cry any more; here take some of uiy
! dinner, you didu't bring any; I have
more than i want. See, I'll spread a
little table here, aud we'll have a nice
feast, Eddio"
The boy shook bis head.
"No, no, Mary," he said, "I can't
eat, I am tired of living aud want to
die!"
"O, don't—don't say that!" she
cried, bursting into teats.
"I can't help it, Mary, I feel so. I
have nothing to livu for—l am only a
pauper, and nobody cares for me, nobody
butyou.
"O, yes they do, there arc some who
j love yeu Edddie; I heard our teacher
say you were a good boy—the best
j iu school ; aud he said you could learn
! very fast if you only tried. There now,
; have I uot comforted you a little bit*"
"Yes, Mary, 1 believe you are an an
! Pi"'
"O, Eddio ! what an idea!"
"I have beard my mother tell about
the angels," said the boy with sudden
enthusiasm, '-she said they were good
, and lovely beings who were sometimes
j sent to comfort people in their sorrow ;
I am sure you are an augc. to me, Ma
, r y
"One of these days, you'll be a man,
you know, a good man, and everybody
; will love you then ; don't cry anymore,
Eddie, don't mind if the wicked boys
do call you nauics ; you can beat theiu
all."
j With a happier heart, the little pau-
Iper belt over his books that afternoon.
"My teacher is my friend, and Mary
loves me too," he thought.
With untiring energy he applied
Ins mind to study ; difficulties vanished ;
his thirsty soul drank in the streams of
knowledge; his schoolmates wondered
and his teacher rejoiced. Years fled.
I God raised up kind friends to the. or
phan boy ; he became learned, respected
and beloved. In the beautiful home
I
which is now his own, aits bis lovely
' wife, tho gentle Mary of bis school-boy
day*.
The mosquito is a much abused crea
i tuio because every body has a slap at
i him.
DANBURY, N. C., THURSDAY, APRIL li, 1882
Ilapplncn and Humility.
Some time since, I .ook up a little
work purporting to be the lives of sun
dry characters as related by themselves.
Two of these characters agreed in re
marking they were never happy till they
ceased striving to be great uicu. This
remark struck me, as you know the most
simple remarks will strike us when heav
en pleases. It occurred to mo at once
that the most of my sufferings and sor
rows were occasioned by my unwilling
ness to be nothing, which 1 am, and by
consequent struggles to be something. I
saw if I.could but cease struggling and
consent to be anything or nothing, just
as God pleased, I might be happy.
You will think it strange that 1 mention
that as a new discovery. In one scuso
it is not uew : I had known it for years ;
but 1 uow saw it in a new light. My
heart saw it, and consented to it; 1 uui
comparatively happy. My dear brother,
if you can give up all desire to bo great,
and feel heartily williug to be nothing,
you will be happy too.— Dr. Payson.
l-eaf from the Czar's Diary.
Got up at 7 A. M. and ordered my
bath. Found for gallons vitriol iu it
and did not take it. Went to break
fast. The Nihilists had placed two tor
pedoes on tho stairs, but 1 did not step
on them. The coffee saiullcd so strong
ly of prussic acid that I was afraid to
drink it Found a scorpion in my left
slippor, but luckily shook it out before
putting it on. Just before stopping in
to the carriage to go for my luorning
drive it was blown iuto the air, killing
the coachman aud the horses instantly.
1 did not drive Took a light lunch oft
hcrinetically-scalcd American canued
goods. They can't fool mo there.
I'ouud a poisoned dagger in my favorite
chair, with tho poiut sticking out. Did
not sit down on it. Had dinner at 0 I
I*. M. and inado Burou Laischouuowons- '
ki taste every dish, lie died before
tho soup was cleared away. Consumed
some Baltimore oy.iters and some Lou
don stout that 1 have locked up for five
years. Went to the theatre aud was
shot at three times iu the first act. Had
the ontire audience hanged. Went
home to bed and slept all night on the
roof of the palace.
Mrs. Uurttcld,
Mrs Garfield's venerable father, Mr.
lludolph, writes thus to a friend oon
ceruiug his daughter aud her husband :
"She has boruo up wonderfully un
der the great affliction through which
she has passed the last year. First,
siek herself awhile, and yet very weak
when her husband was stricken down by
the band of the assassin ; then the tedi
ous illuess until death closed the terri
ble scene liut we have great rcasou
to bo thankful to GoU she is uow appar
ently well and says sho feels well, and
she is as cheerful as any one could ex
pect ber to be. Hers was umre than
au ordinary loss ; he was always so affec- j
donate. I never kucw a husband and j
father more so. In all the tlironir of
business, public aud private, be never
seemed to lose sight of his family. Some,
you know, have been anxious to know
how the general was exercised in mind
in the immediate viow of death. He
was a wonderful exhibition of patience
in affliction—no murmuring, no com
plaining. My daughter tells mo that
she heard him say nothing about the
miserable assassin, only that he did not
know why he should shoot hiiu. 1 rath
er incline to ask how a mau lived than
how ho died "
TIME. —In all the actions whioh a
man performs, some part of his life pass
es. We die while doing that for which
alone our sliding life was granted. Nay,
though we do nothing, time keeps his
constant place, and flies as fast in idle
ness as in employment. Whether we
play, or labor, or sleep, or dance, or
study, the sun post on, and sand ruus.
An hour of vice is as long as an hour
of virtue. liut the difference between
good aud bad actions is infinite. Good
actions though they dimiuish our time
here as well as bad actions, yet they lay
for us happiness in eternity, and will
rcoonipcuse what they tako away by the
plentiful return at last. Wlicu wo trade
with virtue, wo do but buy pleasure at
the expense of tune. So it is not so
uiuoh a consuming of time as an ex
change. As a man sows his com, he
is oontcnt to wait awhile, that he may,
at the harvest roceivo with advantage.
Last week a nun uaincd C. D. Owens
was hung by a mob in Tampa, Ala.,
just across the street from the jail in
board daylight, while the United Slates
Disiriot Court was in session. He bad
attempted lo commit a rape, and, fail
ing, had tried to kill his victim.
I How Daniel WebatcnLoobed.
* \vk *
I have recently seen dif-
J ferent papers, pieces hcadeiß" Reminis
cences of Daniel Webster,"-}id the im
pressions produced upon 11 mind* of
the writers by their first ft of that
great man. They are HO dinlreut from
j mine, that I have been induced to tell
| you what 1 thought of liitn toe first time
I ever saw him. In the Spjngof 1837,
about the time of the awurnmeiit of
Congress, 1 passed through Washington
on my way to New York. Most of the
trip at that time wan made from Balti
more by steamboats. V\ i .Ist traveling
I frequently noticed a man (sacking the
deck of the Loat alone aif" "seemingly
desirous to hold himself alJw from all
intercourse with every one on board the
boat. lie wore a plaid cloak buttoned
around his throat, of green ground,
checked with black, reaching the tops
of his shoes, the cloak apparently much
the worse for wear, and a low crowned
hat with more breadth of briui than was
common iu that day and time.—The
style iu which he was clad, and his whole
appearance, reminded me so much of an
old shoemaker who used tv inako shoes
for me wheu I was a boy, that 1 at once
set it down iu my mind that he must be
one of that class seeking a market for
his goods.
On uiy arrival at New York it was
annouueed that Mr. Webster would
speak at Niblo's (iardeu the next night.
Of course 1 went to hear him. Vul
can Judge of my surprise when I saw
that my shoemaker was Daniel Webster.
And now to save myself from the accus
ation of being so stupid as not at once
to be struck with the appearance of so
great a man as Mr. Webster, let uio say
that there were two other eminent men
along who ut once commanded my at
tention, aud uot to know who they were !
kept me iu a constant slate of anxiety '
l until luy curiosity was satisfied ; Abbot
i Lawrence, af Massachusetts, and John
iJ. Crittenden, of Kentucky. Lawrence
was one of the tiucst looking aud most
finished men I ever saw, in his appcar
ujoc.—Crittenden was ugly,
but still you couldn't* help wishing to
know who he was.
The i'resli Alr llaltlt.
Early impressions are very enduring,
and eau make useful habits as well as
evil ones a sort of second nature. In
order to forestall the chief danger of in
door-life make your children love-sick
after fresh air : make them associate the
idea of dusty rooms with prison-life,
punishment, and sickness. Open a win
dow whenever they complain of head
ache or nausea ; promise thcu a wand
land excursion as a reward of exception
ally good behavior. Save your best
sweetmeats for ont-door festivals. Uy
the witchery of associated ii'eas a boy
can come to regard the lonely shade-tree
as a primary requisite to the enjoymeut
of a good story-book. Says Rousseau :
"Only the movement of my ifcot seems
to sot my brains a-goiug," aud it is just
as easy to think, debate, refieurse, etc.,
walking as sitting ; the peripatet : c phil
osophers derived their name from their
pedestrian proclivities, and the Stoic
sect from their master's predilection for
an open porch. Children who have
been brought up in hygienic homes not
raro "feel as if they were going to be
choked" in unventilated rooms, aud I
would take good care not to cure them
of such salutary idiosyncrasies.
Every observant tcacherAmust have
noticed the innate hardiness)of young
boys, their unaeffcted indifference to
wiud and weather. They seem to take
a delight iu braving the extremes of tem
perature, and, by simply indulging this
penchant of their ohildren ean be made
weather-proof to an almost unlimited
degree; and in nothing else can they be
more safely trusted to the guidanco of
their protective instincts. Dou't be
afraid that an active boy will hurt him
self by voluutary exposure, unless his
chances for out-door play are so rare as
to tempt him to abuse the first oppor
tunity. Weather-proof people are al
most sickness-proof. A merry hunting
excursion to the highlands
wall rarely fail to counteract the con
sequences of repeated surfeits ; even
girls who have learned to brave the
Winter storms of our North-western
prairies, will afterward laugh at
"draughts" aud "raw March winds."
• -4 —
A lady in Raleigh, North Carolina,
lost a gold watch, locket and chain on
June VtO, 1860, supposing it at the time
to have boen stolen, A few days ago a
servent, in raking under the barn for
eggs, pulled out the missing articles in
almost a* good oondition as when last
seen, the morocco case containing them,
though, having been rotted away on the
side next to the ground.
The PhliONOphcr's .Stone.
The cccontric but Orilliaut John Ran
dolph once arose suddenly in his seat in
the House of Representatives, and
screamed out at the tup of his shrill
voice :
"Mr. Speaker! I have discovered the
philosopher's stone. It is—pay as you
8'
John Randolph dropped many rich
gems from his mouth, but never aj-ich
cr one than that.
"Pay as you go," and you need not
dodge sheriffs and constables.
" Pay as you go," and you can walk
the streets with an erect back and man
ly front, and you have no fear of those
' you meet. Y'ou can look any one in the
eye without flinching. You won't have
to cross the highway to avoid a dun, or
look intently into the shop windows to
avoid seeing a creditor.
"Pay as you go," and you can snap
your fingers at the world, aud when you
laugh it will be au honest, hearty one.
I It sccuis to >is sometimes, that we can
tell the laugh of a poor debtor. He
looks as though he was in doubt whether
the laugh was not tho property of his
creditors, and was not included in arti
cles "exempt from attachment." When
he does succeed iu getting out an abor
tion—he appears frightened sud looks
as though he would be pounced u|ion by
a constable.
"Pay as you jjo," and you wi'l meet j
smiling faces at home—happy, cherry j
checked children—a contented wife j
—cheerful hearthstone.
John Randolph was right. It is the
philosopher's stone.
Punctuation.
Punctuation is an art, and one that
has been learned in comparatively mod
ern times. The Greeks did not know
the meaning of it, aud left no space lie
iwccn the words. The Romans put up
a kind of division without any apparent
method. Up to the end of the four
teenth ceutury only the colon aud comma
were introduced, and the latter at that
time only as a perpendicular figure.
We arc indebted to Aldus Manutius, an
eminent printer, fur the comma as we
have it now, and in 17!'0 ho introduced
the semicolon into printing and publish,
ed a set of rules for the guidance of !
writers. It is not known by whom notes
of interrogation or exclamation were
first used, but inverted commas (•) were
brought into common use by a French
printer to supersede the use of italics, j
but the English adopted tliein to specify
quotation.
Kept Right On
A certain circuit judge was always
sure of uieetiug some cutting or sneer- j
ing remark from a self-conceited lawyer
when he came to a certain town in his
rounds. This was repeated one day at
dinner, when a gentleman present said /
"Judge why don't you squelch that fel- j
low The Judge dropped his knife and
fork, and placing his chin upon his bunds,
and his elbows ou the table, remarked :
"Up in our town a widow woman has a
yallur dog that, wheuever the moon
shines, goes out upon the stoop and
barks, aud barks away at it all night."
Stopping short, ho quietly resumed eat
ing. After waiting some time, he was
asked; "Well judge, what of the dog
and the moon ?"—"Oh, tbe uioon kept
right ou," he said.
A MYBTF.nr CLEARED Up.-Jacob
Beble was murdered in a Wisconsin for
est last January. He wa? a lum
berman, and worked with a single com.
patiion. This pcrsom disappeared im
mediately after the deed, and was re
garded as guilty of it, but could nowhere
be found. Not even a trace of the fu
gitive was discovered, and the search
was at length given up. A few days ago
the widow of Beble fell dangerously ill
at Neilsville, tbe nearest village to the
place where he had been shot, and, in
expectation of death, she confess
ed that she was the slayer. He had
compelled her to dress as a man and
work with him in the woods. Woru out
by tho heavy labor, aud driven deiper
ate by his cruel'y, she murdered him.
Then she hurried home, put on her own
clothing, and nobody identintified her
as the fellow who had been hor husband's
assistant.
The largest liquor bar in the world is
the one at the Astor House New York.
It is a btd day's business when over its
counter is not sold S7OO worth of
••liquid hardware."
Double-barreled metaphor.—Law
yer to witness : "You've bras* enoguh
iu your face to make a forty-gallon ket
tle." Witness to lawyer ; "And you're
i sap enough in your heard to fill it."
What the Wires Maid.
"Baby is dead !" Three little words
passed along the line: copied somewhere
and soon forgotten. But after all was
quiet again I leaned my hand upon my
head and fell in a deep reverie of all
that those words mean.
Somewhere— a dainty form still and
cold, unclasped by mother's arms to
night; eyes that yesterday were bright
and blue as skies of June drooped to
night beneath while lids that no voice
can ever raise again.
Two soft hands, whose rose leaf fin
gers were won* to wander lovingly around
mother's neck and face loosely holding
white buds, quietly folded in confine
rest.
Soft lips, yesterday rippling with
laughter, sweet as woodlauk break falls,
gay as the trill of forest birds : to-night
unresponsive to kiss or call of love.
A silent home—the patter of baby
feet forever hushed—a cradle impress
ed, little shoes half worn—dainty gar
ments, shoulderknots to match those
eyes of yesterday, folded with aching
heart awuy.
A tiny mound snow covered in some
quiet garvcyard.
A mother's groping touch in uncasy
slumber for the fair head that shall nev
er again rest upon her bosom. The low
sob, the bitter tear, as broken dreams
awake to sad reality. The hope of
future years wrecked, like fair ships,
that suddenly go down in sight of land.
The wathing of other babies, dimpled,
strong and this one gone. The present
agony of grief, the future emptiness of
heart all held in these three little words :
"Baby is dead."
A Sensible Mother.
It is really pitiful to see a good, con
scientious little mother resolutely shut
ting herself away froin so luuch that is
best and sweetest in her children's lives,
for tho sake of tucking their dresses mid
ruffling their petticoats. How snrpris
ed and grieved she will be to find that
her boys and girls, at 1(1, regard "moth
er" chiefly a* a most excellent person
to keep shirts in order aud to make now
dresess and not as one lo whom tlicy
care lo go for social companionship.
"Yet, not before they arc snubbed out
of it, by repeated rebuffs, such as "Run
away, I am too busy to listen to your
nonsense," children naturally go to
their mothers with all their sorrows and
pleasures ; and if "mother" can only ou
ter into all their little plaus, bow pleas
ed they are! Such a shout of delight as
1 heard last summer from Mrs. Friendv's
croquet ground, where her two little
girls were playing. "O, goody, goody,
mama is coming to play with us !" She
was a busy mother, too, and I know
would have much preferred to use what
few tnoiuents of recreation she could
snatch, for something more intcrestiug
than playing croquet with little children
not mucb taller than mallets. She has
often said to IUO . "I must keep right
along with them all the time : and wheth
er it is croquet with the little ones, or
I.iitiu grammar and base ball with the
boys, or French dictation and sash rib
bons with the girls, I must be "in it,"
as fur as I ean."
Geographical.
A scholar in one of Binghampton's
public schools, who had been over the
map of Asia was reviewed by his teach
er with the following result:
"What is geography !"
"A big book."
"What is the eurth composed of?"
"Mud."
"No ; land and water."
"Well, that makes mud, don't it'"
"What is the shape of the earth ?',
"Flat."
"You know better. If I should dig
a hole through the earth, where would 1
com* out 1"
"Out of the hole."
THE BEGINNING.— New i'ork Republi
cans were startled a few days since at
the result of a special elootion in tho Dsth
Senatorial District of that State. It
was an election to fill the place of Sen
ator Wngnor, a Republican, who was
killed in tbe recent disastrous railroad
collision at Spuyten Tevful. Tho 18th
is a strong Bepubliean district, but the
Democratic nominee was elected over
i his stalwart opponent to the pleasant sur
prise of the Democracy. — Kurth State.
"We all knows," said a cockney
school committee man to the new teach
er he was examining fur her position,
j "that A, B and U is vowels : but wot
we want to know is vy they is BO."
I am an old maid, but my life is not
! altogether like nn empty house, where
I there's nothing to do but to put «ne's
head out of the window and wateh the
neighbors.— ld.
NO. 41.
SMALL. IIITES.
The greatest river in the world ia the
I Mississippi, which is 1,100 uiiles long.
The man who does pn» aet himself up
i too high will not get hurt when he falls.
The largest deposits of anthracite
coal in the world are iu Pennsylvania.
A erank would be all right if he could
be used to turn the grindstone of tndus
! try.
There is nothing that so refines the
face and mind as the presence of great
thoughts.
We carry all our neighbor's crimes in
sight and throw all our own over our
shoulder.
The largest lake in the world is Lake
Superior, being 480 miles long and 1,000
feet deep.
There arc no pumps where the coco
anut grows which, perhaps, accounts for
the uiilk in it.
Education begins the gentleman, but
reading, good company and reflection
must finish him.
lie that does good for good's sake
seeks neither praise nor reward, though
sure of both at last.
The largest valley in the world is the
Vally of the Mississippi. It eoutains
500,000 square miles.
Do not lose courage by considering
your own imperfections, but iustantly
set about remedying them.
The greatest cave in the world is the
Mammoth cave in Kentucky, which cou
taius a navigable lake abounding in eye
less ti.-li.
'Tis said the oyster frequently gets
into a stew ; but it has never been as
yet reported that he jumped out of the
i fryiog-pan into the fire.
"What is the difference between a
comma aud a cat V' Oivc has claws at
the end of paws, while the other lias the
paws at the end of the clause.
When a hen sits on an emp-'.y china
egg, you call it bliud instinct. What
do you call it when a girl sets her affec
tion on an empty headed noodle !
Mr. Swing says "that a uovel is the
world's truth, with a beautiful woman
walking through it." Generally, we
may add, with a mau after her.
A Western debating society is nerv
ing itself up to wrestle with the ques
tion : "When a woman aud a mouso
rnoct, which is the most frighteued 1"
In a bad way.—"Are jou dead, Tim ?"
said an Irish father to bis son, who had
fallen down a woll. "Not dead, but
spachelcss," came up froui the depths.
The greatest natural bridge in the
world is the uatural bridge over Cedar
Creek in Virginia. It extends across a
chasm 80 feet in width aud 250 feet iu
depth.
The law of the hnrvest is to reap more
than you sow. Sow an act and you reap
a habit; sow a habit and you reap a
character ; sow a character and you reap
a destiny.
There is alwaj s an irrepressible con
flict going on in one's mind when he
sees a small boy taking his first smoke,
| as to whether the boy is smoking the
| cigar, or the cigar smoking the boy.
Knocked down by a conundrum.—
i "11 is poor taste to laugh at your owu
Jokes," said Fenderson : "something I
never do, though Ido say it." "l>oe»
anybody else ever laugh ut tlioui I" asked
Fogg.
The meanest man on record sent
through a post office, presided over by
women a postal card on which waswrit
j ten : "Dear Jack ; Here are the deUila
1 of that soandal." Aud then the rest
1 was in Greek.
"Alas, we must part," as the coat
i tails said when the street car passenger
1 took liis seat, "llut we'll meet again,"
as the coat-tails said when three fat
women got aboard "United wo stand,"
as the coat-tails said "for the rest of the
1 ride."
.
He wasn't sayirig. anything.—"Man
. and wife are all one, are they 1" laid
she. "Yes ; what of it?*' said he suspi
ciously. "Why, in that case," said
his wife, "I came home awfully tipsy
last night and feel terribley ashamed of
myself this morning. He never Mid a
word.
A Memphis darkey who stole a rani*
triad to engage a lawyer who once saved
him from prison. The lawyer (aid he
| could not help him until he paid his fea
• in the former case. "Why, bona," re
claimed the disconsolate darkey, "I stole
dat mule 'specially to aell hiiu and pay
you." At last aeeounti he was still
| without a leg-tl adviser.