6
ByTha Ad ran c 9 Publishing Company
'LET ALU THE ENDS THOU AIM ST AT, BE THY COUNTRY'S, THY GOD'S, AND TRUTH'S.''
Josephui Dtnlilt Uintgftt
i ii i i j -
VOL. 11.-XO. 45
WJDLSON, N. C, FRIDAY, DECEMBER, 3, 188K
Six 5Imh tl.OH. J
if. . ..---
The Wilson Advance.
Wilson", Friday, December, 2, 1881.
POETRY.
TO SAM.
To Sam I King this humble lay,
Vho in my boyhood's joyous day,
Was ready at my every wish
To romp, to hunt, to swim, or fish;
Or down our deep wild btream to tow
Oftnnes to arm with the water's now,
And sing the while some echoing song
Then re.-ted pull the old boat along.
Or if I had Home job to do,
He'd find the time to help me through:
t' Of should the-"old folks" go away
Hut I forbear. Jvst haply they,
' Should in my hynest verses sep
The germ of many a mystery,
And lo! forsooth they, might forget :
That we are not wet skaters yet.
In driving cows, or hunting hogs,
Ju raking pine-straw, hauling logs,
In mending fonces, feeding pig,
lu gathering peaches, apples,;figs,
If anything should wrong betide, .
The blame be'd put all on his side.
Of all the friends I ever had.
The warmest heart beat in this lad,
Who always would his will restrain.
To please my wild and changing brain.
In joy the days of youth were past,
But the bitter ctip has come at last.
And bitterer still it tastes to me
When thoughts come back of child
hood's glee.
And Sam does cruel life to him
Hold out her cup full to the brim?
Have cares, which fall to each man's
lot,
Kntered his soul? disturbed his cot?
Ah! no; his is a happier sphere
Than -mine. He's richer far than peer
To whom chance gave an humble
birth, -
Tree from the strifes and aims of earth.
Why then are some born in wealth to
live,
And lose the sweets which lowliness
tfives?
And why are we lead to strive for fame?
Which won,gains for us but its name?
' Ha happier Jar to live, if you can,
An-humble, honest, peaceable, man,
With faith in God and the pledge He
hath given:
"Believe and ye shall be blest in
Heaven." ""
o: who could ask a greater reward
Than the praise of man and promise
of ;.d?
Now, Sam, I advise, make these thy
in earth's vain
awn,
Ami little you'll lose
fame,
Hut when you come to ripe old age,
Your feeble hand turns life' last, dim,
page i v
A happy thought will steal: through
vour mind
Of joys we've had in '-days; o' lang
iyne."
the payment exacted is the surrender
of my own manhood. From thU hour
I leave your home never to return?"
It was on the night of the same day,
while on hi travels to seek his for
tune, that Austin Douglas perilled his
life, not then particularly precious in
his sight, to save that of an unknown
stranger.
We shall not delay to speculate
about the motive that led to direct
his travels teward a little country
town, with a visit to which, a few
months before, some warmly cherish
ed memories were associated. It was
there he had first seen Constance War
ing, and that first light had settled his
fate. In short, he fell desperately in
love; and when he whispered the se
cret to Constance, and asked her to
promise to b hi, she had not said
nay.
Constance Waring, her farther ha
imr married a second time, and she
and her stepmother not getting on
well together, had gone to live with
a maiden aunt, hor deceased mother's
sister, in the town where she and Aus
tin first met.
To pay a parting visit to his sweet
heart, and altered prospects, he es
teemed a simple act of justice. When
their love-making began he was ac
knowledged heir prospective to his
uncle's wealth. Now, he had nothing
but his own exertions to count upon,
and Constance might be of the mind
that that w as a circumstance which
materially altered the case. At any
ratn if itno Knf foil tr lair tta Truth I
itVVC) ii nets UUl jmjt .lit. "
before her and leave it to herself to
decide.
When Austin made his call, he
found Constance in even greater
trouble than himself. Her father had
come a few days before to apprise her
of an otter of marriage made hor by
un old friend of his on behalf of a
young kinsman of the latter an offer
which Mr. Waring j had ; already ac
cepted, counting his daughter's in
clinations of as little consequence as
Ant-el Bourne had those of his nephew.
When Constance tried to expostu
late against this summary disposal of
herself at least to beg a brief respite
her father's imperious item per lost
all bounds. He gave her five minutes
to decide between his permanent dls-
plcivniro and yielding to his com.
maud.
"riurely you would not- force mo to
marrv a man I cannot love." she
pleaded piteously.
"How do you know you can't till
ucklly, I'm in time to put a stop to
It!"
Before Ansel Bourne had time to
answer or:the other pass on, a hand
some young man with a beautiful
younsr lady on his arm, followed by
the clergyman and a small group of
friends, came out of the church door.
Constance Waring started and
shrank back at the sight of her father,
before he had time to give vent to the
angry speech that was rising to his
lips, his eyes fell on his daughter's
enmnanion. It was his turn to start.
The handsome youth teas the young man
to tchom he otced his life! tor the little
old man whom Austin Douglas had
carried down the burning staircase,
w rapped in so many blankets, was no
other than Stephen Waring.
"Why didn't you tell me, you dog,"
cried Ansel Bourne t his nephew
"that you had already picked out a wife
for yourself, or at least wait till I told
you whom I had chosen? But no
you must needs go bolting of at a few
hasty words from a silly old uncle,
and leave him to track you all over
the country? You don't deserve to be
forgiven, even if you have obeyed my
wishes without intending it."
It was hard to tell Which of the two
old gentlemen was the merriest- at
the cosy little wedding breakfast to
which Uncle Ansel invited the party
at the village inn.
TSic Uiglit Time Co Kiss.
A Western Phenomenon.
IwTtejalliariMrWay.
It was a daring act of the young
man to dash up the blazing staircase,
and make his way through tire and
omoke to the fourth story of the burn
ing hotel, where the excited host sud
denly remembered one of the guests
the only one who had not effected a
timely escape was quartered.
A loud cheer greeted Austin Doug
las, as with singed hair, and face and
hands scorched and blistered, he re
appeared bearing in his arms a closely
wrapped burden." As blanket after
blanket was reuiovod, the spectators
urn.pl fnruanl. oatrer to catch a
jdimpie of the beantiful young lady
enrol v it was lor 'nothing less for
whom the gallant stranger had risked
his life.
There was a mutter of surprise, t
not of di?ar.pontment, w hen the re
moval of the last wrap revealed net
a faintinsr beauty looking up grate-
full vTn hor deliverer's face, still hand
some in spite of the traces left upon it
bv Hia ncent. rU-rv ordeal but the
form of a littlOi snrivoled old man,
puiling like a porpoise to regain his
brcatn. Before lie could do so sulii-
cientlv to thank his preserver, the
latter had disabooared in the crowd
It would be unfair to detract from
th me.rit of Austin Doutrlas's exploit.
Though itj lacked the touch of romance
a prettv ladv in the case would have
given it, it was none.'the less heroic;
still candor compels the confession
to that particular time Austin set uo
especial value on his life.
His uncle, Ansel Bourne, who had
been a father to -him .since his own
father died, bad called him into the
Horary that morning, and witheut
' -much preface signified that Austin
should accept for a wife the daughter,
- ff a very old irier.d of the mule's
whom he w as about to name when
the young man interrupted with a flat
retusal j
Mr.Uouroo had been a kind benefac
s tor to Austin, Whom he had reared
?nd educated unsparing of expense,
and considering all ho had done for
the young man, and the handsome
fortune he would one day leave him,
the old gentleman, not unnaturally,
felt entitled to exercised a certain- de
gree of authority, now for the first
time disputed. 1
Oneword led to another, till at last
Mr. Bourne grew angry, and to some
hitter accusations of ingratitude acl-
dtnl a very distinct threat of altering
his will in rase bis Tienhew Persisted
j s - -
in his disobedience. -
At this- Austin's temper roso in
turn.
"I thall never forget," he replied,
"my m icy obligations to you; but I
cannot permit them to be added to i
. a, I '
vou've seen him: unless mueeu,
there's another "
Mr. Waring did net finish. A tell
ale blush mantled Constance's cheeks,
at sight of which her father's face grew
mrple.
"Uive me your answer instantly?"
ie demanded with vehemence "do
you accept the husband I offer your or
not?"
"I I cannot, father" she faltered,
besochinclv throucrh her
r
tears.
Henceforth, then you are no daugh
ter of mine! Go starve or beg with
whatever vagabond adventurer you
have chosen to bestow your heart upon
if. indeed," he added tauntingly,
"ho care, now, to accept so profitless a
trift."
With these cruel and bitter word,
Steohon Waring turned his back upon
H!j M.nurJ.tpr-and she knew too well
there was little hope of his relenting.
Such was the substance of the recital
Austin heard from Constance's lips;
and strange to say, instead of looking
sorrowful, his face actually seemed toi
brighten. j
"I have already had an: offer of em
ployment in the counting-house of one
of in v farther' old friends to whom
I telegraphed this morning," ho said,
"the salary is not large, but 1 tninK
two might live on it."
Rising he' took Constance's hand,
and looked earnestly into the deep
blue eyes in which the tears were be
ginning to gather.
"Shall we be married to-morrow,
dearest?" hew hispered; ? we are left
to be our own masters now."
It was like the offer of a friendly
haven to the tempest-tossed mariner.
Constance did not speak, but the
timid pressure with which she return
ed the warm grasp of her lover's hand,
gave back no uncertain answer.
I was on a bright spring morning
that two elderly gentlemen were seen
hurrying by separate paths toward a
little church in the outskirts of a
country village.
"Is that you, Waring?" cried Ansel
Bourne, as they neared each other.
"I trust that it's a pleasanter errand
than mine that has brought you to
this out-of-the-way place,"
t "I don't know what you call a
pleasant enand," grow led the other,
"my jade of a daughter whom I prom
ised you a wife for 1 nephew
nnd whom- for disobedience, I told to
go her ways and wed wbem she liked
it seems that she has taken me at 1117
irnni and is to bft married to some
An observant and evidently dis
criminating young reader of the Times
writes to say that he ha read with
ively satisiaction the occasional ex
positions of kissing m j us uriuu
moods and tenses that adorn these
columns. But he declares tnai ne js
in doubt as to the right time to begin
kissing. He retails at some length
the embarrassments that this, uncer-
. . I . ,1 L -
tainty has brought upon mm auu uea
the publication of his letter in full,
that others who are similarly situated
mav contribute t the discussion and
thi. inrtk the matter clear to those
who are willing but timid.
His own experience is not without
certain unique interest. 110 im
known the "sweetest girl in all the
world" ever since he left school. She
belongs to'a family that considers it a
first duty to "live up to the . dining
room dado and the blue china" that
garnishes the sideboard and table.
The mother holds kissing in abomi
nation and is fond of remarking that
the ''intellect is not fed through' the
lips;" that'a kiss is a purely neshly
pvrvertydii of tho sweet inti
macy of esthetic love. Under
such frowning providence the young
irirl he adores displays an aversion to
kissimr him good-night, in welcoming
' . V . ... a mJ 11 -b f 1
him witn tms lover p pcivuwKv v
he comes of an e vening to take her to
church, the theatre or whiit not.
This, it will be seen, is a rather try
ing plight for a young lover for a
L-i..i . tha viibl sism and token ol
an inner sentiment which no words
can express. Tho eyes and the
tongue do a good deal of appreciable
work of love-making, butt-he meeting
of the lips is the sign and seal, the
chrism, so to speak, which transforms
the earthly into the divine. Love
without a kiss would be like tho harp
without the hand, the raiubo w With
out its hue; the brook without its bab
ble; the landscape without its colors;
the tea rose sweetest flo wer for scent
that blows without its odor, the
boreaiis without its variations; poetry
without rhyhm; spring without sun-
light.a garden without foliage or mar
riage without love. The young
woman w hoso ideas teach her to re
coil from a kiss cheats the lover of the
joys of loving and does not doserve
the devotion of a manly heart. She
may live up to the dining-room dado
and the sideboard bric-a-brac,, but she
will never prove a congenial wife, and
our correspondent will sa-ve his heart
strings many a future wrench leaving
ber to her dado and bric-a-brac. rhil
adelphia Times.
While some drillers, near 8am ia,
Ont., were boring for oil recently ,they
wcro. astonished to find that a huge
volume of gas was excaping from the
well. The gas was accidentally ig
nigted by the torch of a man twenty
five feet from the well, according to" a
local paper, and the flames, which
are described as "vivid and silvery,"
leaped to the height of thirty feet.
Every fifteen minutes "by the watch"
there is a grand erruption of water,
which, instead of putting out tho
flames, drives them in sheets above
the highest tree, and falls in showers,
for a considerable distance around the
well." The scene at night is a bril
liant one. and Is thus discribed by the
barn la Observer:
"The mixing of the water, which,
by the way, is said to be strongly
impregnated with sulphur, With the
flames produces effects in color which
are dazzling in their brilliancy and
beauty, various shades of yellow and
purple predominating. The spectacle
especially, if witnessed at night, is
indescribably beautiful, and its effect
is heightened by a slight dash of
weirdness caused by the unusual color
of tho flames and the corresponding
reflection which it throws on the
foliage of the trees. The birds soem
to bo paralyzed by the unwonted il
lumination. AH night long, so the
drillers say, they skim around the
flames, uttering shrill cries of alarm;
and become either so frightened or so
bold that they alight alongside the
men, by whom they are frequently
caught." All efforts to stop the flow
or to quench the flames have thus far
proved of no avail.
Baldwin's Gold.
It was after a concert, and a w ell
known German cautratrice asked a
gentleman to whom she had been in
troduced, how he liked her duet. You
sang charmingly madamc. But why
did you select such a horrid piece of
music?" "Sir, that was written by
my late husband!" "Ah yes, of course,
I did not mean- . But, why did
you select such a cow to sing with?"
"Ach Ilimmel, that's my present hus
band!" i
A man who does not live in the
present and who persists in doing busi
ness as it was done fifty years ago,
will be pretty apt to get left. A fort
night ago Mr. Jesse Baldwin, who
lived near Youngstown, Ohio, present
ed himself at the Treasury Depart
ment at Washington, and demand
ed $17,000 in gold for some bonds. The
other Ohio men in the department,
where a thousand or so of them have
found comfortable quarters, endeavor
ed to persuade him not to take tho
gold, but to have a government check
which was as good as gold. But the
old man know his buincss better and
insisted on tugging his gold all the
way to Youngstown. To be sure, the
matter got iu the papers and the burg
lars were duly notified of Mr. Bald
Win's habit of keeping a large sum of
specie in his house. And they have
lost but little time in relieving him of
it
- The following is the account given of
the robbory: Under the stairway in
the hall of the house is a closet in
which a small safe is kept. The burg
lars must have reached the premises
soon after midnight.for they went first
to Baldwin's stables, where they In
spected the horses, and selecting a bay
horse and a roan mare hitched them
to a carriage. The house was entered
bv forcing open one of the windows
Once inside the houso it is evident the
bunrlars intended to remain. They
first barred the stair door. Wherever
they, went they locked the doors be
hind them. Reaching the closet
where the safe, was drilled a small
hoiinthe lock, and filled It with
powder.
The explosion awakened the sleep
ing family overhead, but they thought
it was an earthquake. Baldwin's son
had been up with a sick child, and af
ter the explosion he listened, and was
soon convinced, from the noise below,
that the house was full of robbers.
Arming himself, he started to go
downs stair, when he heard the porch
door open, and hastening to an over
looking window he saw the men, four
in number, moving away under the
weight of heavy burdens, supposed to
be the contents of the safe. He fired
three times at the retreating burglars,
who in return sent a volley toward
the window, the only damage result
nrr heini' tho wood w ork around the
window. The cracksmen w ith their
plunder were soon in the carriage, and
The Newspaper.
Mr. Groesbeck agrees with Dr. Talr
niage. "The Press is a great institu
tion," say both these gentlemen; "It
Is taking the place of political orato
ry," eay s the former.
Most people will endorse these ex
pressions. How great and growing a
power the newspaper press of the
United States is to-day the casual read"
er may decide for himself. What
would he do. without hl.4 paper? Sup
posing himself , cut off from "the
news," and yet compelled to continue
his dally avocation, how would ho fill
the gap? How long would it be be
fore he would gladly offer to pay dol
lars for a copy of the dally journal for
which he had formerly grudged a few
cepts? It is as asy as sleeping to
skim through the paper placed by
your breakfast plate, and decide that
it contains "no news" for you having
the paper; but in case tho reassuring
conclusion could not be reached the
data, the paper not being available
how would it be then? A deal of hard
work is done by the mind when the
mind is in suspense. t
The newspaper is ubiquitous. It
appeals to all classes of society and
has points of interest for all Individu
al atoms. The statesman, the lawyer,
the scholar, the clergyman, the soldier,
the businoss man, the actor, the me
chanic, the laboring man, the house
wife, the society belle and the servant
eirl all must know what the world has
done in a day touching them and their
weal. They find much that does not
concern the m In tho reading; but
something, always, that they would
have been sorry to miss.
Mr. Groesbeck touches one note in
the scale. "The days of 'stump speak
ing' are passing away," ho thinks!
"the newsnaoera are doing the work
of public orators." This is probably
true. And why? The newspapor is
the most effective agent. Between
the few who have valuable ideas to
give out and the many w ho have need
to receive them, it is a perfect mes
senger. It brings more facts in a sin
gle issue than a man could narrate in
a week, supposing him capable of re
membering; and it never tires of tell
ing its tale. It is faithful and punctu
al, unprejudiced on the whole and as
accurate as may be. It instructs while
it entertains, so. that he who runs it
through may gather knowledge un
consciously. It Is truly a great thing
the newspaper; and it presents in
its highest development, the greatest
wnrk- of the nineteenth century. Life
would be strange, indeed, without it.
national Tmkglvlng.
Thnnidav. the 24th instant, was! ob
served as usual throughout the coun
try as a national holiday ana lestivai,
in which devout and grateful ac
lrnnwljtffirmntit u-ir nn"ard tn an
overuling Providence, mingled with
charity ami oenevoience to manKinu,
nd Invful re-unions in tho family cir
cle. On this hallowed fesiive occasion,
tne aeep sense ox grniuuae 01 me na
tion was expressed in icTvent prayer
to the Supreme ltuler of the Universe
for the Divine benignity. This en-
Hgntenoa spirit 01 piety, inspirea uy
the occasion, elevates, refines, and
purifies the thoughts and minds of
men, and presents the Humitne spec
tacle of a zreat people naving homage
in grateful paans and solemn anthems
to tne JJlvine in. -vjou moves in u
mysterious way." Things felt at the
time to be dire calamities are found to
the good, and the wise, w ho have j ish litigation would seem to be almost
nuvxmliMl h hand of l)Iviue Provl- OA oxoensivo a liuurv ilh nurowni
uence iu uirecuus un iua
WIT AND HUMOR.
A question put to ft debating socle,
ty. There were a hundred cars of com
in a barn. A greedy rat carried them
all off to hU nost, taking along three
ears oVry time he left the barn. HoW
many visits did be have to make to
get the hundred ears? The president
of the society answered, 'Thlrty-four
visits," but the secretary said thai In
asmuch a. two of the ears the rat took
away with him every visit were his
own oars, he must have made hun
dred visits. . ,
In the chief court of law in Grana
da, Spain, there used to be the pic
ture of a disrobed man with a large
bundle of papers under his arm, and
certain words proceeding out of his
mouth, of which these are a transla
tion. "I who won my suit am now
stripped to tho skin; what, then, must
l a a i a a. a
rn iiiH ixih f ii n i in wtici irmi iit" n ni n
of this
great nation to the high destiny that
awaits It lu the future.
Ilelpinff the Party.
Iu the days gone by a Detroit sheriff,
who had made a close shave of being
elected, had the ill luck to lose a pris
oner from the fail. The fellow made
good his escape to the caulitry, but
tho sheriff overtook him about eight
miles out and drove him under a barn.
The prisoner was captured and yet he
was not. If he could not get out the
sheriff could not get in, the threats
had no effect on him. In this emer
gency the officer called out:
"Say, Jim."
. "Yes." .
"You know" I had a mlgkty close
shave getting this office?"
"You did that." .
"Well, I'm laying my pipes for a
second term. If I lose you I-might as
well hang up. The. opposition will
hold it up in letters, fifteen feet high,
and hundreds of men In my own party
will slip my name. Do you near me.
"I do."
"Well, I ask you to come . out, not
exactly as a prisoner going back to
jail, but more as a ' patriot bound to
stand by his party, tome, Jim."
"imi hn tifliirori ii l aon't. remieu
the nrisoner.. The Judge was agin me,
nu' son tonre was uninst. and I hate
.ntiir laii hnt. ir ir.'.q froimr io iiem tnv
party and crush the hydraheaded op
position out i come."
Ansrv sportsman ( to his black ffef
vant, "ITague on you, you've shot the
dog! I thought you told mt you
could hold a gun!" Sambo c,Shuah,
an so I can, na.-m. Ise a holdin1 it
you see, now. Vfut it's de shot wat
hit do dog. I couldn't hole tie shot,
massa! A white man couldn't do dati
massa; but I'll hole de gun all day I
will, shuah."
"My graciom, child!" said an old la
dy to a boy who. offered to carry hor
satchel for five cents, "where did you
get those .hinds from?" The lad
gazed thoughtfully for a moment at
his "pair of flippers," that looked like
bunches of onions, and then answered
proudly "I btlloug b our base ball
club."
Ol Am Wotl"
Suspicions Symptoms.
A minister who M as perhaps not too
careful in his habits was induced by
his friends to take the teetotal pledge.
His health appeared to suffer, and his
. i
doctor ordered him to take one glass
of punch daily. !
"Oh!" said he, "I dare not. Peggy,
my old housekeeper, would tell the
whole parish."
"When do you shave?" the doctor
asked.
"la the morning."
"Then," said the doctor, "shave at
night; and when Peggy brings you up
your hot water, you can take your
glass of punch just before going to
bed."
The minister afterward appeared to
imnrnvp in 'health' and spirits. The
-
doctor met Peggy soon after, and
said:
"I'm irlad to hear Peggy, that your
master is better."
"Tnrfn; ir. he's better, but his
brain's affected; there's something
wrong'wi' his mind."
"How?" '
"Whv. doctor, he used to shave at
nizht before going to bed, but now ho
shaves in tho morn, he shaves before
dinner, ho shaves after dinner, he
shaves at night he's aye shavin'"
Tho symptoms were, indeed, very
suspicious.
Nautical: "You are on the wrong
tack," said the pilot's wife when the
hardy aon of the loud-sounding sea sat
down on it an arose with the asual ex
clamations.
a critical examination
right tack, but shoot me if I ahrt cm
wrong end of it"
A crusty looking old gentleman, ac
companied by the regulation welt-fed
consort and - a couple o f wel l-fa vow
daughters, entered tho dining room of
the Del Monte, and, as he tucked his
napkin beneath his generous chin,
turned round jmd fixed a fierce glance
upon the jw aiter behind his chair.
"Look here, my man," said the okl
party, sharply Vbefore I give.my or
der I want to ask you a question.
Are you an Italian count in disguise?',
....... . f i i
"Dlvfl a bit," repiieu ino. surprises
coffee splasher.
"Nor an English nobleman, the un
accountable delay of whose remittan
ces has temporarily compelled," Ac.
"XoTft graduate of Harvard, and
estranged from your father, a rich
Boston banker, whose haughty priae
is as unyielding as your own," Ac.
"Oiam not."
"All right. Here's a dollar, and you
onn hrinif In th( ETTUb. NOW that
vuu Mi r
know you are not the regular thing lu
waltera now-a-days; that you aro not
sn n fiSTu-lth on a of mv dUrh-
tsr or nick mv pockets. I can cat In
. j W M .
peace."
Fashionable young lady (to a friend
at Saratoga) "Where is your Jewelry
mytlear?" Other J-mhiotmbie Yotmff ,
J,ady "O, I left it with my uncle, in
New York." The "uncle'V alludtd to
furnished the young lady the funds td ''
go to Saratoga with. . "
Klntr James I. wiw once ont reited
by his old nurse to make her eon a gen
tleman. "N'ae, nae, nurse," was the
reply of the British Solomon; "I'll
mak' him a lord ana ye wuu, nut it is
beyond my .power to mak' him a gen
tleman."
It hon boen sutrircsted that thrt
Whito Ilnnsrt h)touli thuronirhlv
overhauld m to its plumbing, but thd
IVOrriHlOwn Jicrwt uiyecis. m vn
ground that "we cannot stand it td
have the national uebt uoubiea, jus
now." ' ' -
Tra ns m ogr i ficnt 1 (m A proof that
port wine, when aged, is no longer
port iv Jiaaetra uimae nearer;, ii
the Madeira wine of that Joke 1 a bail
as the pronunciation (made dearer) It
l xl ... S - I . . . . . 1 ,1 -
IS aDOul lim w Jinti in nuiiu
A college boy told his old aunt that'
when mythological pagans died they
were turned into rtars. as, fur exam
ple, Orlos, "Ah," sahl she,' "it must
have been a great consteHatlou to the
survivors." v
"Constant render f A contcmpori
ry says it had hardly published Its first
number when tho editor received a
lengthy communication frota "A con
stant reader."
Why is not 'thft Old Dog Tray Uie
faithful creature he was described Ui
be In the song? Because If ha is so
very faithful lie can't be Tray (be
tray). .. . -
An old teamster in Nevada say"
that ho think '?a mulo Is the mailt
knowin' anlmile In all creashun. Ile'4
immense on brayin', you know"
Two men, for a wager, tried to see
which could oat the greater number of
oyhters. One eat ulrlcty-nine; the
other eat a hundred and won.
It is said that icaUfed sllkff havi
been much, seen at the fashionablo re
sorts this season, on account of thd
clumsiness of waters
AdresHpay raid nsually 5comps-
nies the eemling out of a drossraa'ker'a
It bills. r
Ha wr.s a bachelor, had traveled ex -tensivcly,
and could speak any lan
guage, dead or alive, but when he re
turn tHl home the other day, and talked
to his sister's baby and when it cried
ivnil was Dacified by its mother saying:
went at break-neck speed on the road j "Did this naujrl-ty, wauty uncle, wun-
to Columbiana.They drove rectlessly, ; cle, come nomey uie., u ...
and while passing through Wood- warey . my littio putsey w apse . ne
worth, two and one-half miles south just leaned over the back of th Chair
of Boardman, the carriage brokedown and wept
.... . . i
and the rig had to be abandoned, l hey
subsequently stole five horses from
tho farmers in that vicinity, and,
mounting them, escaped. The amount
stolen is estimated at $40-000
Cited by the Washington (Id.)
Gaiettr is the feet that the coifw in that
locality hive a sort of lamews in the
ioints. J. V. Mvers cured his bv aa-
1 J v MiMv w --' v ef
jackanapes here this morning unless ointing it "with St. Jacobs QSL
Tne original manuwript of the
"Boc k of Mormon,' is in the posses-
! sion of David Whitmer, of Richmond,
Mo. Mr. Whitmer, now seventy
eight, was a follower of Joseph Smith,
but left the Mormons when they took
to polygamy. He still professes faith
in Smith's claim to divine inpiration,
and will on no account paftt with the
MEDICAL.
Ii . ' w ' r
i ii i , . - . :
'o," he repUed, after J very prcttv and he wiU aU fld.
inatiwi, "I'm on tbe.i ith sUDerlttive cross-
hess? but let him eat broad and jam, vi- xvhieh h tfcam was copied bv
- I V,-V - -" . mt
and play with the contents of ft coal ; gj fron, the tablra of stone. His
scuttle for half sen hour, and be will j son Rhares lis -views, and says it is not
nestle his dear little dirty face close up ' flfcely, fherefoTe, that the volumes will
to your clean shirt front and be jost soonll into the hands of either de-
the lovingest, cunniugest Utile rascal generate Mormons or irreverent curi
in all the world. j o?ity hunters."
i
trtetly Temperate, Except
On the slespcr of an . F. and W
f r. t n wwan tlv. fl.trveller noticod an
xKitAK'i rrlml rpnllotnan trrln&r
n iiifwvi nt " - w
to get into a linen ouster, j ne ycrjr.pi
and pry tra-veller rushed to- his a-1
sistance, and in helping him w ith hisj
garment noticed a good-sited whiskoy
rliwk protruding from one of the inide
i?vh nature, he appropriated tle tot-
tie, cot the coat on the Stranser. and!
then pulling out the flask, said:
Vill vrni take a drink?"
The old man did not recognize the
bottle, and drawing himself up re
marked, rather severely: j
"Xo, sir; I never drink." i
"It won't hurt you,. insisted the -wag.
"It's the best." I
Y;oug man,'iaid the old gentle-;
man, intended for all the car to hear,
If you persist in drinking whiske.f
you'will be a ruined roan at forty.
Ls the curse of the land. Wlien I .war
abov mv mother died, and tho last;
j thing tdic did was to call me to her,
bedside ana say; -awn swrar m m . . L rLm. 0tkflA
that vou will ncAer touch a drop of Bdckath,3onittt Of tho Ches1,vcut,
liquor ' l Huinsf,3or9 inrvcx,wrwuinai
Here the old man clappea his nan( j
on III side pocket, found it empty,andM
recognizing the rxinie in in ranu.? o
k nthor. h( nMtinued . '
' "Except f my dear boyf an ocaion
al snifter while traveling." .
And reaching for the flask he press
ed it to his lips tmM a howl of laugh
ter which shook the whole car.
THE GREAT,
i!
roB
Many a man who thinks Ijimself a
I and not asmoothe one, cthcr.
Houratgfof Seatcd, Lunibegs,
Sprains, Bum d Zeakt,
Gmsrcl uoatij ran,
Tottih, Ear cjtd Hscdachs. frothd
vtd Ecn, and all other Paint
and Me hot.
tr .. Hit a Mfi)i mmuS Sr OrtM
" ' " " - - - . . - . -
mZi-vz hot ih cnrntmnMrtij trtftuir ooUf
t SS C-MtM. wul mrty ox ;fff
S0L3 2t 11L DXDGI8Tf 1ST tfZilXiS &
AV0O23l2Llt & CO.,
Jtml;imrr, 2l., f. 3. -f
4. -