VOLUME XIII.
Reporterr and Post.
PL'BLHHED WEEKLY AT
DANBURY. N. C.
PICPPER A SON 3, Pubs. £,' Props
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u «i—ru* .»TO« Do iur.
P«1 latum.
. PROFESSIONAL CjjdoS.
A. J. BOTD, J - W ' lIEID *
BO YI) RE ID,
Attorneyß-at»Law
WKNTWORTII, N. C.
Practice in the Superior court of
Stokes county.
ROBERT D. GILMER,
Attorney and Counsellor,
MT. AIRY, N. C.
Practices in the eourls of Surry, Stokes,
Tadkia »nd Alleghany.
ffT F. OARTER,
II TTO FTRY/F r- * r- LC $ jr.
MT. AIBY, BLISBV CO., N. C
Practical whereve. hisserrieesare warned
R. L. 11A YAW III *
ATTORNEY-AT LA W
Mt. Airy N. C-
Special attention given to it.e co'!-.•!ion oi
claims. 1 ->- m
B. F. KING,
WITH
JOHNSOX, SUTI'OMY ,J- CO.,
DRV GOODS,
V—. fT *at & fcaul'a Sharp. Street,
r. w. jonr.*ox, * SCTCON
J. I. K. ORABBE, O. J. JOHNSON.
j. iimi join.
Say & Joassn
!uanuf*ctin*ra ot
»ABULE*T,MARNRSa.«'.n i-Al!'«.T... "K
Me. Ui W. B»lti«iore »treel, Italtimore. .Vd.
W. A. Tucker, H. C. Smith. U.S. Bpraiglu*
Tucker. Smitli Co-
M»i»«l'»fturhr» A whole*»ie I»e»ler» in
*O#TS, SUOKS, HATS A.VU CAPS.
X. w Baft.Bit. Street. Daltimort, *l.
* J. * ti. E. REST,
WITH
Htnry Sunneborn s' Co.,
WHOLESALE CLOTHIERS.
H gt., (betwpenOrrwVn Htal
BALTIMORE Ml).
■ . gOH«EBOK!«, B. BLIMUNB
«- VITKISS W. S. ROBERTSOS
S. L.COTTRELL, A. 8. WATKINS.
Watkins. Cottrell * Co..
aid Jobberi* of
HAKOWAHE.
1807 Main Street,
KICUUOXD, VA.
AI«U f*r r»lrh»Bk. «it»nd»rd Sc«lo», an
Anktr Brsn4t B«lllna Clolh.
a ley he* Putney, L. If Blair
W. H. till.US,
WIT n
STEPHEXPUTXE Y§ CO.
Wholesale dealer* in
Boots, Shoes, and Trunks,
1219 Main Street,
Sept. 8-81-6 in. J UCIIMOXI), VA.
J B ABBOTT, Or N O ,
with
HIFICO, EI.LETT k CRUMP,
RICHMOND, VA.,
Wholesale Dealers ia
BOOTS, SHOES, TRUNKS, 4iC.
Prompt aitaation paid to orders, and satis
faction iiauranleed.
pm~ riryinia S(«(« Priion Ooodi a
March, «. 01
seassr w. rowsus. >#««« N. TAYUJ .
R W POWERS FI CO.,
VMIOLKSA LE DRUGGISTS,
Dealers in
PAINTS, 011.8, DYKS, VARNISHKS,
French acd Amorican
WINDOW OI.AsS, PUTTY, &C
SJIOKINQ AND UUBWING
010 AHS, TOB ACOO A 81 , GOIAI.T\
1806 Main St., Uiohmond, Vu.
J . LTC. B l XiD,
WITH
W. D. KYLE & Co.,
IBPCUTKIia AND JODUEIKi OK
HARDWARE. Cutlery.
IRON, NAILS and CARRIAGE GOODS
No. 9 Governor Street,
RICNUOND.VA.
- it *. TT N'H Warm, Pk
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OK TIIK PKOPLE ! t'oli THE PKOPI.K !
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iu Stokes and adjoining counties a li-
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Now go to work, and aid an enterprise
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The REPORTER AND POST is sound in t
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till support. — Neidaville Weeknj. i
tiro J IV.:. J j
begins its thirteenth year. It is a good
pupcr and deserves to live long aud live
well.— Daily Workman '
The D*N bury REPORTER AND POST
celebiates its twelfth anniversary, and a
with pardonable pride refers to its suc
cess, which it deserves.—.Vcu'S andUb- '
server.
The Danbury REPORTER AND POST 1
is twelve years old. It is a good paper t
and should be well patronized by the (
people of Stokes. It certainly deserves
it.- Salem Press.
For twelve long years the Danbury '
REPORTER AND I'OST has been roughing T
it, and still manages to ride the waves (
of the journalistic sea. We hope that
it wi'.l Imve plain sailing after awhile.
Lexington Dispatch.
The Danbury REPORTER AND POST |
has just passed its l'ith anniversary aud ,
under the efficient management of broth- ,
er Duggins cannot fail to increase in
popularity with the people of Stokes and
adjoining counties.— Winston Sentinel. '
The editorials on political topics are ;
timely aud to the point, and the general
make up of every page shows plainly (
the exercise of much care and pains
taking. Loug may it live and flourish
under the prcseut management. — .Motin- 1
tain Voice. I
The Danbury REPORTER AND POST i
has entered the thirteenth year of its ex
istence, and we congratulate it upon the
prosperity that is manifested through its
columns.* To us it is more than an ac- '
quaintance, aud we regard it almost as a
kiusmau. — Leaksville Gazette.
The Danbury REPORTER AND POST
last week celebrated its twelfth anniver
sary. It is a strong aud reliable paper
editorially, it is a good local and gcuer
al nowspaper and in all respects a credit
to its town and section. It ought to be
well patronised.— Stalesvillf Landmark.
The Danbury REPORTER AND POST
has just entered its lath year. We were
one of the crew lliat launched the RE- |
PORTER, aud feel a djep interest in its ;
welfare, and hope that she may drift on- j
ward with u clear sky and a smooth sm
face for as uiauy moro year.l. — Caswell
jYcw.
The Danbuiy REPORTER AND POST j
has celebrated its 12th anniversary. The i
paper is sound iu policy and politics,
and deserves the hearty support of the i
people of Stokes. It is an excellent
weekly and we hope to see it flourish iu
tho future as never bclore.— W initon
Leader.
Tho Danbury REPORTER AND POST
cauio out last week with a long editorial,
entitled, "Our Twclth Anniversary"
and reviews its past history in a very
entertaining way. Go on Bro, Pepper
in your good work; you got up one of if
, not the best country paper in North
Carolina. — Kcrnersville Jfttet.
That valued exchange, published in
Danbury, N. C,, tho REPORTER AND
POST, has entered upon its 12th anni
versary. Long may it live to call tho
attention of the outside world to a coun
ty which is as rich, we supp.wo, in min
erals as any in tho State of North Car
olina, and to battle for correct pclitiotl j
measures. -Danville Times.
"NOTHING HUCCEEDS 1 >IKE SITCCICSS."
4)ANBURY, N. THURSDAY, APRIL 9, 1885.
UK A WOMAN.
Oft I've heard a gentle mother,
As the twilight hours began,
riaading with a son on duty,
I'rgiii'j him to be a man.
Hut unto her blue-eyed daughter,
Though with love's words quite as ready,
Points she out the other duty—
"Strive, my dear, to be a lady."
What's a hedv? Is it something.
Made of hoops am!silks and airs,
Used to decorate the parlor,
Like the fancy rings and chairs ?
Is it one that wastes on novels
Every feeling thit Is human ?
It lis this to be a lady,
'l is not this to lie a woman.
U
Mother, then, u.itoyour daughter
Sp; 1 k o' sori>4thing Hijlwr far
Thau to be mere fast.ion's lady—
"Woman" is the brightest star.
If yon, in your strong affection,
XTrgi your soi. to be a true man,
Urge your daughter no less strongly.
To arise and be a woman.
Yes, n woman ! Brightest model
Of that high and perfect beauty,
Where tlie tr.ind and souland body
Blei.d to work out life's great duty,
lie a woman; naught is higher
On the gilded crest of time;
On the catalogue of virtue
There's no brighter, holier name.
Montajii.' Marks.
At The JVlines.
As tho adveutmous traveler turns
from tho narrow strip of prairie laud,
and follows the Old Bolton Shaft road,
where it winds in and out among the
snow-decked cedars of tho mountains,
he will coiuo unexpectedly upon a small
white wooden cross, standing, as if on
guard, over a grave close beside the
trail, its only surroundings being the
moaning pine trees aud tho endless wasto
of snow.
Of that simple cross, rudely caived
by a kuifo in some friendly hand, is the
name and date :
PHILLIP It'OINX,
April "tli, 1883.
A little above, certainly not many
hundred yards, but out of sight arouud
the sharp spur of the mountains, arc
situated the great Bolton coal mines,
their tall woodea shafts rising up iu the
tmt*r or rue w.-.-
halting machinery, and surrouuded by
marks of never-ending toil.
Here and there, along tho gulches
and the canons, which are crossed in
every direction by black-ash paths, can
bo seen tho little wreaths of smoke cur
ling up into the blue sky, showing where
the dark-browned dclvers in tho depths
below make their humble homes.
The snow lies trampled and dirty
fiom the pit-houso in overy dircotion,
and the great heaps of slack show the
employment of a large foiee of work
ers.
Not one of them all to-day but as he
passes that lonely grave beside the trail,
will reverently bend his head and feci
that, standing thero, ho is very clo9e to
God. If you have time to listen, I will
tell the simple little story again foi
you.
I was acting as foremon over the night
shift at the "Mohawk" miucs all that
winter ; a hard, rough job enough it was,
but was all I could get to do ; and this
boy, McGinn, was a' helper" in Shaft
No. 3.
1 remember well tho night ho first
cauio to us. it was m December, rough
and blustering outside, so that even tho
thiu boards of the little shaft-house af
forded small protection from the wind.
; 1 was huddled close to a roaring fire,
trying to study out sorno plan for mak
ing the Snake river dam safer before
spring floods should come. Close as 1
kept, tho red flames roaring up the chim
ney, yet, I would shiver, as a heavier
blast would come sweeping arouud the
edge of the mountain aud shake the cabin
! us if it were in air.
Just then some one knocked at the low
, door, aud without even glancing up I
bade whoever it was to come in,
A burst of icy wind swept oyer me, a
, foot shuffled along the floor, and I turn
| ed—to 6co a strange boy standing bo
j fore me, his ragged patched clothes cov
ered with snow, his faco red from the
wiud, and a pair of big blue eyes looking
up anxiously into my face.
"What is it, my lad 1" I asked gently
for something about his forclouc ap
pearance had touched my heart wit!
piy- .
His eyes fell to the floor, and he stjoc
there for an instant twirling his raggoc
hat in his cold hands without saying i
word. Then lie gulped out, as if man'
1 tully trying to keep back the team :
"Please, sir, 1 want somo wotk I''
His voice was houest, his face earnest
' his words true.
I "Sit down, my little man," I said
I kindly. "Where aieyou from !"
lie put his well-worn boots out toward j
tho heat of tho firo and looked straight
into my face as ho made ausw. r
"From Trinidad, sir.. I left there t
this morning."
"Trinidad I echoed, Tn surprise,
glancing at the snow against
the windows almost like hail. "Why,
that is fifteen miles from lu iC !"
"1 know it, sir." Ho shivered a lit- '
tie. "It ivas very csld, but they said 1
could get work hero."
"You are rather young fn t! e mines.'
I began, but he leaned for I .W"J eag-jr- '
'>•
"Oh, sir, don't sav that! iath.r is
2*ad, nnd 1 in Jit work. , •^y4^Liig—
indeed I am, and I muswhat !
will beooino of Mary ?"
I felt tho tears in my own f.ycs in sym
pathy wi ih his.
"Mary!" I said. "And «fio is Ma
ry ?"
"She is uiy sister, sir. -lie is out
there now waiting to hear:" and he
pointed over his shoulders to the door.
"Your sister out there in tho storm"'
aud in surprise I started to my foot.
"Yes, sir. Sho is peculiar. Mary i 3 :
and she would wait there till I cane
back."
'•Then for heaven's sake, hiitijr her in;. I
she shall share my fire anyway."
Without answering, ho tnened the
door aivl wmit out into the *:i >w. In a
j few moments lie came back ag:iin with i
I the sister, a slight-built, brown-haired
girl of fifteen, as poorly dressed as him
self, and shivering >vith the cold.
1 took her small, chill hand in my
own, aud drew closer to tho warm firo.
For a moment uone of us spofeo ; then
sho looked up anxiously int i my face.
"I>id you give Phil something to do,
sir !" she asked.
To resist the pleading hope in her soft
voice was more than I coul 1 do. Swept '
j by a sudden thought of my own siitcrs, !
! tar off in an Eastern city, I bent down j
and kissed her white cheek.
"lie shall have work," I slid gravely,
"if I liavo to make a place for liiui."
Aud the sudden li-'.it fl happiness
f ' , ■' v ——»
grand reward. Q
Rut thi9 is McGinn's *i».Ty and not
! mine, and I must hurry on to its sad and
! tragic ending. I found the boy odd
jobs to do about the shaft at fiist, aud
as he proved always able and willing, 1
advanced him in a few days and placed (
him upon the night shift as a "hclpft" I
at the foot of the shaft.
Tho girl and boy—for she was the !
elder of the two, and quite a woman—
took possession of an old, tumble-down
shanty close to the trail. 1 helped them
fit it up as best we might to keep out
the cold wiuter wind, and iliero she kept
house for hor brother, and cs the weeks ,
passed by I used often to drop in there
afternoons just to cheer her up a bit.
She made tho lonely odd plaoe very
pleasant in so many simple ways, and,
indeed, they seemed quite happy togeth
er, as the flush of health came back on
her clear cheeks and the light of hope
, and comfort brighleued her eyes again,
i Often as I passed up the road to iny
work, just in the edge of evening, I us
ed to stop before the cabin aud listen,
wlulo all unoonscious of anyone outside
i she sang sonic old melody, the cloar, I
i sweet voice floating up the mountains j
across the snow like the notes of a lost
j bird,and making the work of the long
, night plcasanter, as 1 remembered.
The cold months of the winter rolled \
i on into the dangerous spring—danger
. oils iu all mines, but doubtly so iuours, j
■ because tho rising riv- j
• | er were only kept from fbodiug our gal- j
! | lenes by an artificial batricr of earth
i and rocks. Wo with anxious
| eyes as, luch by inch, tin waters, fed by j
r | tho mountain snow, steadily crept up
| higher , the owners had pronounced it '
| safe, and we had to believo thciu.
L | Such was the unchanged situation of
- 1 thiugs, when ono night, early in April,
- j I pushed up tho rocky path to tuy work,
- and, turning tho edge of the pines, saw
; Mary McGinn otanduii* iu the door of
5 hor poor shanty, shading hci eyes with
| her bands and watching Phil's study 1
, I little figure trudging away in tlieaftcr
- glow.
Ii | As I caino up, unnoticed, 1 spoke to 1
I her and marked the light of welcome in
il ; hot eyes as she hold out her hand to
J mo.
a "Oh, sit," she said, looking, up into
- ' my face, as if reading every thought, "1
I have wanted to see you all day. 1 hoard
j some of tho meu saying, at the store
, l»st night that the iniues were unsafe
while the river was so high. I asked
. Phil, and he laughed at mo. liut oh,
sir, is is true !"
i It was hard for mo oveu to altempt
a lie to her, yet could I tell the truth
| just then !
j "Bolton and the engineer both pro
j nounco thorn safe," I said gravely ; "and
they should know belter than tho rest
i of us."
i She read my face while listening to
| iho words.
1 "Rut you ! you do uot J" she cri
ed.
j I struck iny tin pail against the post
and drew a long breath.
| "Mary,'l said, with a tenderness now
jto me, "I am not satisfied, but I hope
j for tho best."
j She stood thero as if the nows had
I touched her very life, i
I "Poor Phil!" almost in a whisper,)
I "and all 1 can do is IO pray for him." j
I bent lower and closer to hear the
J words.
"Aud will you forget all the others!"
I asked, lovingly. "It makes men j
stronger to think souio one remembers \
them at home."
She luoked up into iny rough face a i
moment with tear-dimmcd eyes, then
placud both her little hand - in mine.
"1 have always remembered you," she
said, aud, as a shrill whistle came down
the frosty air, recalling me to duly, 1
I followed the impulse of tny heart and
; kissed her choek, now flushed with red.
What I saw in the blue eyes is hard to
ell, but I turned away happier—wit!.- I
| "ut knowing why —than 1 had be;n in
| many years.
Twenty of us went down iu the cage '
that night together, and 1 remember |
yet the last grand scene as we sank
slowly into the shaft. The sun was |
just going down behind the ridge, and '
the distant snow-crowned peaks stood
out like cathedral spires against the rosy |
sky, while across iho valley a bridge of
golden wire seemed suspended iu tho
air; and then we dropped away iuto the
[ black damp depths b«iow.
! After sceiug that the men were well
at work, I led a email party up iuto one
of tho side tunnels to fix some props
which had fallen down.
It was liatd work, pressed together
nij we were in that narrow spaeo and
hi e ithing the hot "rtamp air, r«m *w*n 
lit hy tho small oil lamps flickering on
each miner's cap. They took turns with
the limbers, aud for over au hour noth
ing was to be heard savo the heavy
breathing of the men, aud occasionally
a low spoken order.
j I thought over my little talk with
| Mary as I stood thero leaning against
| ihe rocky side, and was building air
castles and making her their queen,
when suddenly we were startled at hear
ing swift footsteps echoing along the
tunne!, and the noxt moment, with Ihe
face ghastly white, under the glare of
his hat-lauip, McGinu burst iu among!
us.
"Run!" he ciied. "Run, lads, for
tho stables! Snake river has broken
out!"
With pale faces and cries of the
men dropped everything to plunge into (
the darkness, and wo stood there alone. I
I needed to ask no questions. I was mi- i
ner enough to understand it all.
"Come, Phil," I said, for tho boy j
stood there panting for breath; "we must |
1 get out of this !"
lie looked up, startled at hearing my !
voice.
| "You here!" he cried, "why didn't
' you go with them * Don't wait, sir, I
j must out the barricade."
Like a flash tho whole situation burst
! upon uio, and my check paled at tho
j thought. Every life in the mine depend
ed upon that. Impulsively 1 stepped
j forward and clapped my hands on his
should is.
j "I had forgotten," I said. "\\c will I
j go together, luy lad."
Hand-in-hand to steady our steps
! over the wet rocks, wc went down into ,
| the main gallery; feeling our way in the
intense blackness, hearing the gurgle '■
'of the water, alroady sweeping to my ;
waist.
We could distinguish some cries far
off iu the mine, and hear the frighten
ed bats flitting about our heads, as we
1 finally struggled to the heavy timbers,
and I hacked at them with an ax.
j They would not start! Tl.o lives of
! every man ill the stables hung with that
barrioade. yet still it clung t r?, and
as wo toiled, (he water kept creeping
up, until it had icached the boy's throat.
Like rain I showered my heavy blows,
' scaiccly able to keep 'my own feet iti tho
sweep of the current.
! "For God's sake, lad !" igr 'anod
iu despair and agony, "what can we
do »"
"I know, sir," ho cried out, for 1 could
not see bim in the darkness, "and may
God help nic to do it!" And catch
ing the lower timbers he clammercd j
up.
What lie succeeded iu cutting I can
only guess, but 1 beard a cry and a
crash, then down come that great mass, •
completely blocking the passage and
sending an imuieuse black wave over j
my head, aud clear to the top of the
tunnel.
Oh, heaven what a night of horror
that was! 1 have wondered siucc that
it did not turn my hair to snow. Back
of mc Ihe blauk, gloomy, silent mine
yawning like a grave ; before me the
barricado and on every side the eddying
currents of water.
In vain I called for Phil, and felt my
j way back and torlh along the wet rocks.
Nothing answered but the flitting of
i the bats and the gurgling of tho waves.
I Sobbing, crying, praying, half craned
the long night wore away , sometimes
j dreaming that 1 saw the boy's face in i
I tho darkness—calling to him only to
j have the echoes of my own voice come ■
| back iu mockery. 1 think 1 was truly ,
mad when the pmty of rescuers came |
j at last, guided down the tunnel by my
cries.
In the flickering rays of their lights, j
j the first tiling my eyes saw was poor '
Phil, lying crushed under Ihe timbers.
At the sight, and before they could 1
reach inc. I faiu'ed dead away.
It was up iu the pit-liou«e, with a
crowd of rough, sympathetic faces about i
; me, that 1 came back to life once mure i
and looked eagerly around.
"The girl ?" 1 asked, for she wis Iho ;
first thought, "where is the girl
They drew back silently, and thcu I j
saw her kneeling over a shrouded body
in tho corner. For her own sake she
i must be taken away, while the men did
all they could with the poor battorcd
figure. The lads helped mc to her ton
, derly.
"Mary," I whispered, taking her
cold baud in mine, "you cannot help
Phil auy more, now. Come, let us go
home."
Sho looked up at me, her lacc like
■ death, but without a tear in the clear
i j eyes
I *'ll i. .o to fMvw htm hmr~, mil.
i said, pitcously ; "is it right ?"
"Yes, my girl," toy own voice tremb
ling. "I think so and you must trust
mc, Mary."
"Yes."
I led hci out of the sad place, down
the hill toward thoi'r little cabin. At the
bottom she stopped and looked wistfully
back, and as she did so, tho tears broke
forth at last.
"Oh, Phil,' she sobbed, "you were
all I had iu the world !"
The heart camo up into my throat at
tho pitiful loneliness ot that cry, aud 1
J knew 1 loved her.
| "Not all, Mary," I whispered, ten
derly, "uot all, if you will turu to mo."
She looked up into my face bending
over her, and I think read there my
| earnestness.
I "You were good to him," she said,
i simply, "and I love you !"
| The early morning ;un came out above
| the crags, and showered a gleam of gold
across tho brown hair, as I led her iuto
| tho little house alone.
j
That is Phil's grave out yonder, by
Ihe trail, willi tho white cross and the
! snow-covered cedars standing silent
guard above it, and somewhere in tho
years, 1 think, God has wiped away the
trouble, has covered up the roughened
hauds of toil, mil tewarded the boy
according to his deeds.—Gcoige 11.
Parrish.
A Wotuan With llrittle llunra.
A curious case which is now puzzling
I Chicago physicians has been reported to
the medical society of that city. The
! patient is a young woman whoso bones
| arose brittle that they break at the
j sligtost jar. Sho has been undci trcat
| uiont for sixteen years, having been af
! dieted ever sinco her birth. Over 170
fractures have occurred in her life, and
' her ribs, legs and arms have been af
: fectod. Sho weighs about forty-five
pounds. Merely stepping from tho sofa
to the floor or stumbling on Iho carpet
i is sufficient to causa the breaking of a
I bone.
i 'l'lieso fractures heal siowU. I!er
r doctor has had splints bound about her
leg for two yea •at a time. Tho doc
tors think that her bones consist prinoi
' pall v of hollow shells. '• o broken
J bones have knit together in uncouth
shapes, and she is I adlv ih '
I uiUSCii - are well , -v, l, t
•*••• • oi ■ -
ntrv 1
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ROLL ECU
NO. 42
SMJktL BITES.
Homo is the raiubow of life.
A nod corner—The end of tbe pew.
A bad sign—Endorsing a man's note.
Mub love women ; women love a
: man.
Kgotism is an alphabet with one let
ter.
The old slipper ttrike* the hardest in
j the fall.
| Barbers should reside in an-Duxt dis
j (net*.
Queen Viotoiia has nineteen grand
' children.
! The Legislature of Tejcas has madf
gambling a felouy.
' Ciecro •To live long it is necessary
to live slowly.
The dime museum makes no bones of
• exhibiting live skeletons.
Beau—"Why do you prefer a wood
fire ?" Belle—"Because it pops !"
Hardly a dizen people who partiei
, puted iu the war of 1811J are still liv
| "1 must shake off this bad habit,"
said a tramp, ai he gazed at his tattered
j coat.
Although photographing is dull, new
! features are constantly being introduced
; in it.
Mrs. Partington says that it is not
! true that her son Ike has ulsters iu his
j tbroat.
The ice man may not be much of a
I skater, but he is able to make fancy fig
j ures on ico.
Man is mado out of the dust of the
I earth, and some of them are terias all
their lives.
'•My buw is all unstrung," warbles a
fair poetess. \\ ouder if her beau bad
been on a racket.
The camel is the only bird we yearn
e to heai after listening to a man learning
r I to pl»y on the violin.
I An exchange says that it makes a
- - mm*. -
has this been piovcd ?
In newspaper parlance the merchant
' who gets ahead of his fellows ia tbe ono
wbo has the "ad "vantage.
Massachusetts was tlio firet of the
, thirteen original colonies to introduce
slavery and Georgia was the last.
! It is well to roincniber that while tlio
worst of all critics sees only the good,
while the guod critic sees both good and
bad.
The inmost purpose of an author
ought always to be sharply looked into,
as carefully as were it a question of
sweet air or foul sewage.
, There's love on a railroad,
Love in a carriage ,
Lots of it in courtship,
Not much iu marriage.
| The London Times uses 2.250,000
■ j types for printing each daily edition,
I and the other daily papers of that city
i not quite 1,000,000 each.
An obituary sermon is a mild form of
perjury. No matter how mean a mau
j has been in life, the average clergyman
i send off in death.
j I
> ! Hoy (with feeling)—"l'm an orphan,
; and father's broke his legs and is in
. 'jail, and mother's in an insane asylum,
, j and if I go home without any mnucy
l they'll lick me."
| Tlio editing of a newspaper rightly
; appreciated and entered upon with con
; science, is a I igti and holy priesthood,
t j whose responsibilities are as vast as its
power for good is far-ieaching.
s "Where have you been, my pretty
3 maid V
"I ve been a-uiilking, sir," she said.
- And then they stopped so lung to talk
.) | That the weather froze her water and
1 chalk.
A Baptist minister was oneo asked
l * ; bow it was that he cousented to tbs
1 marriage of his daughter to a l'resby
( 1 terian. "Well, my dear friend," ho
! replied, "as far as I have been able to
discover, Cupid novor studied theology.
"Are you superstitious, Mr. Badger
asked Miss Do Silva.
ii "Nut in (he least," replied that gen
ii iltnntHi.
\V :' ! 1 v■: pv fur s ' i'if. irti'y 'if
» X 1 .w if htrfi *-t »
u i "An ' l knew you wore superstitious,
i- Why would you, Mr. Badger I"
| "Get more to cat!"