THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER
VOL. 111. NO. 23
THE
Charlotte Messenger
18 PUBLISHED
Every Saturday,
AT
CHARLOTTE, N, C.
In the Interests of the Colored People
of the Country.
Able and well-known writers will eontrih
me to its columns from different ,ini-t> of the
country, and it will contain th* Mest Gen
-ml News of the day.
Tun Messenger fa n first- clam newspaper
uiel will not allow personal abuse in its col
- nnns It is tint sectarian or partisan, but
independent—dealing fairly by all. It re
serves the rich tto criticise the shortcomings
•of oil public officials— commending the
•worthy, and recommending for election such
men .as m its opinion are best suited to serve
the interests of the people.
It is intended to supply the long felt need
of a newspaper to advocate the rights and
defend the in jer trts v,f the Negi-o-Ameriean,
especially in tie Piedmont section of the
Caroluias.
SUBSCRIPTIONS:
(Always in Advance.) .
I year - . . „ M
N months - - - 100
0 months ...
4 months - - kq
o months , - - «. 40
Address,
W. C. SMITH, Charlotte, N C
Last year 10:1,000 persons signed the
pledge in Pennsylvania and Ohio at meet
ings ee relucted.by Francis Murphy and
his sot.
Curious Facts of Dentistry.
There is said to be a remarkable change
in the condition of their teeth among
the nejrroes at the South since the aboli
tion of slavery. This is attributed largely
to changes in food, whereby more line
wheat flour and more sweets are eaten
than were eaten formerly. I i addition
lo the injurious effects upon one’s teeth
from improper food, the Popular Science
,\cim adds: “Another important case of
dental decay is the undue demand upon
nervous energy, probably often combined
with insufficient or improper ailment.
Ilecent observations have shown that
carious teeth are common in modern
schools in proportion to the educational
standard adopted, and that the children
in the higher grades have lout of all pro
portion to their more advanced ago)
worse teeth than those below them; while
cories have not infrequently been ob
served to begin suddenly, or to extend
rapidly,during the period of examination
strain.”
One of the famous women’s rights
women of the West is the Lev. Miss
Atmie Shaw, and good stories are told
of her pluck and smartness. Once wheD
she was riding through the lumber
region of Michigan the driver began to
talk insultingly. Miss Shaw stood it for
half an hour, and then suddenly drew a
Derringer from the folds of her gar
ments, and said very quietly : “You
low, contemptible brute; utter anothei
word of that sort, and I'll shoot you like
a dog.” The threat was sufficient. The
mau did not utter a syllabic the rest of
the trip. He helped to get a large con
gregation for her at the settlement, “be
cause,” he said, “lie liked her grit.”
Once at a public meeting a speaker who
had been discoursing on the traits of
strong-minded women, among others
that of wearing short hair, suddenly
turned to Miss Shaw and asked: “By
the w-ay, did you acquire that habit,
Miss Shaw;” “Sir, I was born so,” was
the answer.”
In spite of the dull times for business
during the last three years the mileage
cf new railways laid during 1886 wit
surpass that of any previous year in the
country’s history save 1881 and 1882.
The Iluiluay Age, which has kept the re
cord of advancement in this kind of cn
terprise, predicted in July last that the
total new railway mileage of 1880 would
not fall short of 6,000 miles, and in its
last isaue it says: “Track laying has beer
in progress this year in thirty-nine of the
forty seven State* and Territories on 2I(
lines, and no less than 6,180 miles of new
main truck, not counting Bidings anc
additional tracks, have been added t<
the railway sja'.em of the United State*
since January 1. Hemembcringtbat the
total new mileage of 1885 was only 0,181
miles, and that of 1885 only 8,825 miles,
the record for the first ten montha of the
present year will be accn to indicate an •
astonishing increase of activity. A large
additional mileage will be ready for the
track before the end of the year. We
are now certain that the new railway
mileage of 1886 will prove to lie not leat
than 7.000 miles, while if the weathoi
continues favorable it may coneidernbly
exceed that figure. ’ The activity thui
far has been confined chiefly to the
Northwestern and Missouri lliver States
but the railway enterprises which are
projected now in the South make the
outlook for 1987 sxceptionally bright, J
X LIFE.
BCTlfftUIIl.
Down In tiro galdta meadow,
Golden with buttercups spread
€>he stands with tho sunset glory
Full on her golden head,
She is the one fair maiden
In all of this world for me,
She whom through life I’ll cherisi;
With love and true constancy.
winter.
Softly the light of the sunset *
Falls on hor ?now white hair,
Years upon years we havo wandered,
Hand-clasped through this world*?!
care.
The sunset of life is upon us.
But baok through the dim mist of
years
I look with a prayer of thanksgiving,
To tho vows kept in sunshine—or
tears, *
—1). J. Caught an, in the Current.
IN A TRANCE.
BY FRANCES E. WADLEIOII.
The first sound that I can remember
hearing was the slam of a door; I pre
sume it roused me from my stupor, or
whatever my previous state might have
been; then I heard my brother-in-law
tsy:
‘‘Shut those windows, please; there’s
draught enough to kill a do/en well peo
ple! And, lvitty, have one of the ser
vants bring that little air tight stove
down from the trunkFoom, and then see
that there is a gentle fire kept up here at
least until midday to morrow. I will be
back in a few moments.”
1 had been trying to open my lips to
say something, to ask why I was lying in
my bed at this hour of the day, or to re
quest my sister Kitty to put another
blanket on the bed; but I could not utter
a word. While I was wondering what
ailed me and why I felt so queer, one of
the servants, who had entered with the
little stove, said to her companion:
“Sure an’ the masher's that quare!
Niver before did I hearofanny one want
in’ to kape a dead man warrum; begorra,
some o’ thira gets warrum enough where
they’ve gone, but not the likes o’Masther
Fred.”
Why has Norah such a sound of tears
iu her voice?
“An’ why, I wonder, didn't some o’
thim miserable spalpeens round in the
back street git runned over an’ kilt, in
stead o’him!” Norah continued. “It
will about kill his sister.”
A cold chill came over me; who were
they talking about? Sure no one could
believe that I was dead? A score of
weird tales which 1 had read came rush
ing through my mind -how people had
been buried alive; how dear ones had
permitted husband, brother, father, even
mother or chi’d, to bo neglected as past
hope; and how, after infinite suffering,
the supposed corpse had struggled free
from the coffin and winding-sheet and
come home again; and I thought, too,
of tho many who had never been able to
free themselves, and I would have shud
dered if I could have moved a muscle or
even an eyelash; but I was as immovable
as any corpse.
In what seemed a century I again
heard my sister’s voice. Considering
that her only brother was supposed to be
dead before her very eyes, I thought she
scenvd very blithe.
“Oh, Otto.” she said to her husband,
“then you do not think Fred is really
dead ?”
“No more dead than I am, my dear;
he has evidently received a severe blow
upon his head which rendered him sense
less and has thrown him into a sort of
trance or cataleptic state. I have just
been to see Dr. Burke, and he says it is
very probable. Anyway, Kitty, I insist
that the room be kept warm, quiet and
comfortable; if alive, he is weak, and
this place, when I came into it, was cold
enough to have frozen any invulid; and
then, on the other hand, if he is not
alive, it will do no harm to have the
temperature a little high, for any sign of
decay will settle his condition beyond
a doubt—and until I am quite positive
he ;s dead I will give him the benefit of
the doubt.”
I had always liked and respected my
grave brother in-law; now I loved hint.
Howl blessed him for his words! That
he would stick to them I had no doubt,
lor he was a mule for obstinacy—no, no,
never again wuuld I call him obstinate,
'out firm!
I certainly wa* weak, for I either dozed
■ow or had a faint turn, for the next
thing I knew the room was warm, a soft
■carlct shawl was spread over my feet, as
I could see through my half-closed eyes,
the curtains were drawn down, and the
houve was delightfully still. My sister
seemed to have been persuading her hus
band into a grudging consent to some
thing. for he was saying:
“Well; have your own way, Kitty; I
can’t pretend lo fathom the minds of you
women, and you may be right; Ido uot
like the girl myself, and I think our Fred
is thrown away on her. Hut then, you
see, there never was but one womon in
the world to me.”
“You are the bed m in in the universe,
Otto! Ido hope you arc right, aud that
dear Fred can hear w hat we say,” an
swered my sister, kissing me tenderly.
“If he can,” answered Otto, laying hi*
firm, cool hand on my forehead, “he
knows that he is to he cared for, and
that no harm shall come to him if Otto
Kramer tan defend him.”
Alas! my tear ducts too were para
lyzed, and the tears which I felt rise in
them could go no further.
Kitty now spresd a large white quilt
over me, letting it hang straight and
smooth, and then she aud Otto left the
room. I had faith in them, and again
I allowed myself to lapse into a state of
unconsciousness, from which I was
aroused by a voice which I knew right
well—the voice of Feroline Palmer, my
betrothed; the was saying, calmly; *
CHARLOTTE, N. C. SATURDAY* DECEMBER ll* 1886.
“I will be glad, Mrs. Kramer, if you
’ffill leave me quite alone with —with
Fred for a few moments; give me just
five minutes! I know you have nover
liked me, but surely you will not refuse
the last request I will ever make of you.”
What could she mean? Could Kitty
have been so heartless as not to tell her
that Otto knew that I was still alive?
Kitty aud she were not good friends, for
my sister showed plainly that she did
not think Lina (whom she always spoke
of by her full name, Feroline) half good
enough for me; but I was of a different
opinion. In my eyes Lina was not cold,
but only full of’pure madienly reticence;
that she was at all mercenary was, to me,
disproved by the fact that Harold Carter,
the matrimonial prize of our town, had
not been able to win her from me, though
everybody could see that he was hend
ovcr-heols in love with her.
“Very well,” answered my sister, in
the tone of a woman convinced against
her will, “I will leave you now, and re
turn in live minutes.”
As Kitty shut the door behind her. I
felt a glow of pleasurable anticipation
come over me; I said to myself that
surely the warm kiss which Lina would
give her dead lover would break this
strange thrall that held me as in a vise,
and that I would seem to come back to
the life I had never left. Fancy my
surprise, then, to find that when she
drew near my bed it was not to give me
any kiss, but to gaze calmly upon me
and say, in a quite audible whisper:
“Free at last! Now, if I can only get
those idiotic letters of mine, I can easily
convince Harold and the world that I
never, even at first, returned any of tho
wild fancy Fred bothered me with. 1
wonder if, had I nover seen Harold, I
could havo ever brought myself to care
two straws for Fred Montieth? But time
passes.”
So saying, she drew from her pocket a
little key which I at once recognized. In
the earlier days of my courtship, when
Linn was as yet not quite won, 1 had had
two aaken boxes made and fitted with
very peculiar looks; one of these I had
given to Lina for her to keep her treas
ures (my letters, a lock ot my hair, etc.,)
in, and had used the other myself for a
similar purpose, as well she knew. She
only could unlock my box, for no other
key but my own would have any effect
on it. She quickly went to my table
where the box was placed, and opening
it, she lmstily snatched from it the thick
packet of her own letters, a bow of blue
ribbon, an old glove, and one or two pic
tures, and thrust them in hsr pocket.
Then she came to me, and taking my
hand in hers, drew from it a ring she had.
once given me, and in its place put the
ane like it which I had given her; the
only difference in the two was in the in
scriptions within them.
I was so astonished, so curious, that I
forgot my disappointment in regard to
the kiss, but listenod with eagerness to
what she should say now that Kitty came
back to tho rpom.
“I suppose you have wondered, Mrs.
Kramer, to see me so calm about your
brother’s death; but the truth is that we
came to the conclusion, only this very
morning, that we were unsuited to one
another—you knew that he was coming
away from my house when he was run
over, did you not? Yes, I thought so.
Well, he had just returned my letters to
me, and in his presence I had burned his
to me. He had been pleased for some
time to be jealous of the attentions Mr.
t arter paid me, and I had at last owned
, that if I were free I should accept Mr.
Carter. Os course, under these circum
stances you cannot expect me to bewail
Fred’s death nor wear mourning for him;
indeed, I don’t sec why I need go to his
funeral. I believe I’ll go and visit my
cousins in Albany until it is all over. I
.peak thus plainly to you because I know
there has ucver been any love lost be
tween us two.”
Now, there was not one word of truth
in what Lina had said! And you may
imagiue how her story surprised me.
What with being considered dend when
I was keenly alive to all that was going
on around me, and with hearing such a
remarkable tale, I had no chance to be
broken-hearted over the defection of my
lady-love.
So 1 had been run over! Well, it was
something to huve learned that much. I
had a faint memory of starting to cross: a
street, mid then of a siiout, a rush, a
blow—and then nothing until I hoard
my brother-in-law utter the words al
ready quoted.
But ray surprises were not at an end.
The statement thus calmly given by
l.ina was scarcely out other mouth when
Imy door was again opened and Theresa
| Ainsleigh entered. My sister welcomed
j her cordially; she and Kitty were very
! intimate, and she was as much at home
|ln our house as any one of us were. The
: greetings exchanged between her and
| l.ina were, however, of an icy character.
I While Kitty and Lina were saying a few
parting nothings, Theresa drew near my
j bed, and I saw, to my surprise, that her
; eyes were full of tears, which would not
be stayed, but welled up until they
J iropped upon my unresponsive hand;
| yet Lina had not showed a trace of feel
jing! I had a queer sensation, as if I
were assisting at some spectacle, and
were an invisible auditor at that,
j As the d**or closed behind Lina,
I There a threw herself on her knees and
! sobbed a!oud:
"Oh, Fred, why were you taken? My
darling, my darling!”
fieri! was a revelation! Theresa loved
me! So it was for my sake she had re
fused more thun one capital offer, and
I hud simply set her down ss cold and
; old maidish! She was a dear little thing,
anyway.
Kitty has since said that she, too, was !
-o astonished, she did not know what to '
say lirat; suddenly she remembered that |
perhaps I could hear all that was going
on. and, if so, maybe 1 would at Inst up- '
predate Theresa as she deserved, ;o she 1
would not, just now. undeceive her. '
Then again, if ahe told Theresa that it I
was not a cadaver to whom she was tell
ing her love, the poor girl would be too
much mortified to ever look us in the
face; by-nnd-bv, if Otto was correct in
his opinion about my condition, it should
be easy to tell her that I hud been re
stored, but not to let her know that I
had never been given up by my own
family.
Theresa confirmed Kitty in this inten
tion by rising and pressing a long, warm
kiss on my stony lips, and then hastening
from the room.
In the intervals of consciousness which
came to me I had leisure to meditate
upon the two girls. I blamed myself
for being hard-hearted because I could
not feel the sorrow at Lina’s loss which
it seemed to me that I ought to experi
ence; and Theresa’s bright eyes and
sweet mouth would rise before my men
tal vision in a most unaccustomed way.
I really felt quite grateful to Kitty for
what I was sure was a little artifice on
her part to convince me how little Lina
had actually cared for me, although her
scheme had succeeded beyond her wild
est hopes.
A few hours convinced all my physi
cians that the Angci of Death bad not
yet been set for me me, and, though i
was ill for several weeks, I was at last
restored to my usual health. In the
days of my convalescence Theresa fre
quently came to read or sing to me, and
my eyes now being open to her virtues,
I found myself getting seriously in love
with her.
One day I surprised her by saying:
“By-tlie-way, Theresa, when is my old
sweetheart, Feroline Palmer, going to be
married ?”
“Why, hasn't Kitty told you ? Her
engagement to Harold Carter was broken
off in less than a fortnight; it turned
out he was already married, though sep
arated from his wife, aud her father
made such a talk about it that Harold
disappeared.”
Ana left Lina in the lurch, eh ? Well,
she got her pay for jilting me much
sooner than I fancied she would. Why
do you look so surprired * Did you be
lieve the story she told Kitty ? There
was not a wold of truth it. ”
“But yon hail your own ring on, and
the box whore you kept her letters was
unlocked and empty. Kitty said: she
looked into things to Bee if she was mis
judging Feroline in disbelieving what
she had said.”
“Oh, Lina was cute; she took her let
ters and changed the rings when she was
left alone with her so-called dead lover,”
I replied, incautiously.
“Oh, Fred, you must not be so unjust,
so bitter! Probably that blow on your
head made you forget what had hap
pened that morning; she is free now,”
and Theresa gave a faint sigh, and I saw
the corners ot her mouth droop.
“Yes, she’s free, and likely to remain
so; she can’t pipy her game for over. She
is a cold-hearted, mercenary flirt!”
Theresa thought my words were in
duced by wounded pride, so she tried to
console me.
“Feroline has been to inquire for you
ever so many times,and I told Kitty that
I thought she ought to bring her up to
see you.”
“No, no!” thought I; “Kitty knows
better; she knows by my silence about
her that I have lost my interest in her.”
These were my thoughts, but as I said
not a word, Theresa continued:
“She sent you those lovely roses which
you have been admiring.”
“Did she?” I exclaimed, eagerly.
“Please hand them to me.”
Theresa did so, fully expecting to see
me press them to my lips, and not at all
anticipating that I would take and fling
them into the bright fire which glowed
in the grate before me.
“Why, Fred!” she cried, in amaze
ment.
“There goes her gift, and there goes
my fancy for her, if there was any of it
left, that is. That blow on my thick
skull, Tressie, convinced my dull intel
lect that I had been mistaking pinch
beck for gold. What a fool I was to
have looked at Lina when you were still
nnmnrr ed, and therefore free to be
loved!”
“Fred!” gasped Theresa; but I
checked her How of words by the usual
means that lovers employ.
Tt'heii Kitty came into the room a little
later to see about my luncheon, the nvch
hypoerite pretended to be immensely sur
prised to see the close embrace in which
she found the two of us; but a glance
which we exchanged over Tressie s un
ronscious head told me that she was sat
isfied now that I had heard all that was
going on in the hours w hen I was left for
dead.
But she kept my secret, and it was not
until Theresa and I had been married
two years that the secret was ever re
vealed. Kitty, at that time, also told
Lina what her share in the matter had
been, and the two women have not
spoken since.— Frank I^ctli-'t.
The Antarctic Continent.
That mysterious, unknown land, the
Antarctic Continent, has hitherto at
tracted few explorers. While expedi
tions have penetrated tho arctic regions
every year, in tho hope of finding a
northwest passage, or of gaining vidua
bie material for science, the other end of
the giobe hns remained almost unvisited.
Almost nothing has been done there
since forty-five years ago, when Sir John
Boss discovered the huge volcano, Alt.
Krebus, (laming amid the everlasting
snow ami ice.
Expeditions toward the north pole are
not exactly pleasure excursions; but the
jouth pole presents still more terrible
difficulties. To reach it, the traveler
must leave his ship, and truver-e maybe
a thousand miles of land covered w ith
almost impassable masses of ice.
This arduous task will be attempted
next year by an expedition dispatched by
the government of Victoria, Australia,
who are to sail anuthward from Mel
bourne, and push on to reach the pole,
if they can manage it. —Golden Aryosy.
• SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL.
j In a lecture at the Royal Institute,
'London, Professor Oliver Lodge has en
deavored to show that electricity might
be employed to clear the uppet atmas
phere of great cities of the overhanging
clouds of dust and smoke.
An Australian has invented an electri
cal machine gun which ho claims is ca
pable of tiring 120 rounds “every few sec
ends” from any position and in any di
rection. Experienced officers have rec
ommended tiro apparatus.
Dr. de la Rue has concluded that the
height of the most brilliant display of
the aurora borealis is thirty-eight miles;
that a faint glow may possibly be pro
duced as high as eighty-t-.vo miles, but
that at a height of one hundred and
twenty-four miles no aurora discharge is
possible.
it was reported recently, in the Royai
Society of Tasmania, that a Mr. Vim
pany had captured a black snake four
feet three inches long, in which one
hundred and nine young ones were
found. Tho greatest number said to
have been before taken from a single
snake was seventy.
It is stated by the London Enyineenny
that a dirigible balloon of colossal di
mensions lias been for some time in
course of construction in Berlin. It is
500 feet in length, fifty feet in diameter,
and woighs 48,000 pounds. The pro
pelling power consists of two steam-en
gines of fifty horse-power each.
Mr. W. H. Precoii described in the
British Association bow he had extracted
a piece of needle from his daughter’s
hand by the aid of a suspended magne
tized neeale. Tbe needle was strongly
deflected, and invariably, when the hand
was moved about, pointed to one posi
tion, which was marked with a spot of
ink. Tho needle was afterward extracted
by cutting at this spot.
It has been supposed that a number of
the substances existing in the cochineal
insect are produced during the prepara
tion for commerce. Licbermann shows,
however, that the peculiar waxy sub
stance, which lie calls coccerine, is con
tained in the animal when alive. Empty
coccoons were found to contain somo
three-fourths of their weight of cncccr
ine, and the leaves of the cactus, on
which tho animals feed, were covered
with what appeared to be white mold,
but which on investigation proved to be
coccerine which had been exuded by the
insects.
The various kinds of ingenious con
trivances which have been brought for
ward from time to time for tho prompt
detection of fire damp in mines, are well
known, but most of them have been of a
somewhat complicated nature, aud on
this account failing of their purpose. The
latest of these brought to notice, how
ever, is described as so simple in princi
ple and construction as to excite wonder
at its not having b cn thought of before.
A child’s India-rubber hall with a hole
in it is squeezed flat in the hand and held
in the place suspected of fire damp while
released, and allowed to 6ttck in the sam
ple of the air; the ball is now directed
toward a safety lamp and again squeezed,
when the telltale blue flame will show if
it contains any inflammable vapor.
Accidents to Sleep Walkers.
It seems strange, oil the first blush of
the matter, that so very few accidents
befall sleep walkers. The proportion of
instances in which auy injury is sustained
by the subjects of this remarkable state
of semi sleep is very small. The expla
nation of the immunity is doubtless to be
round in the fact that it is a state of setnj
aleep in which the sleepwalker makes his
excursion. He is sleeping only so far as
part of his cerebrum is concerned. The
rest of his brain is awake, and, therefore,
it is really not a strange feat to walk
carefully and escape injury, doing all
the necessary acts of avoidance while
carrying out some dream purpose, just
as a walking purpo e is fulfilled. The
hypothesis obviously requires a very full
; explanation of such an accident as that
; by which a sleepwalker recently came by
her de ttli, namely, ial lingjput of an open
window. It is not likely to have been
part ol the dream to get out of a win
dow. There must have been some error
in the carrying out of the process; such,
for example, as turning to the right in
stead of to the left on leaving a room,
and thus walking through alow wiudow
instead of through a doorway. As a rule,
the senses are sufficiently on the alert to
enable the sleepwalker to take all precau
tions for safety aud when ho becomes
face to face with a difficulty involving
more than automatic or sub conscious
self-control, ho wakes. AVe should like
to know more of the case, which has just
ended fatally,from some competent med
ical observer who has studied the devel
opment of this interesting disorder in
this particuliar instance. Surely a prac
titioner was consulted. No case of sleep
walkiug should ever be left without med
ical scrutiny and counsel. In sleepwalk
ing there is the making of madness, and
in its inception this disorderly sleepless
ness ought to he stayed.— Lancet.
Clay's Neat Compliment.
During Mr. Clay’s service in Congress
. he paid a visit to an enthusiastic friend,
a pnyaician. in Virginia, who was anxious
for a neighbor, a furmcr, to become ac
quainted with the great statesman. II
was arranged for them to meet. The
physician introduced them thus: “Mr.
Clay, permit me to introduce you to Mr.
| Clay, the greatest lawyer in the United
States.” Mr. Clay, advancing, took the
hand of tbe farmer and said: "Permit
me to say, sir, we are introduced by the
greatest doctor in all the world.” ' The
I three gentlemen were then ready for de
lightful social intercourse.— lndevcndent.
Terms. $1,50 per Amim Single Copy 5 cents.
MY JEWELS.
From the teeming strand of mem’ry’s sea,
With its sparkling waves of golden mist,
Aud Ity priceless wealth of smiles and tears.
And visions of love ail pleasure kissed,
A precious waiflet drifta to me.
’Tis only a faded rose, once kissed
By a sweet June morning’s crystal tears;
But its fragrant heart enfolds for me
Tho passionate dream of life’s best years,
Evanished in the goldon mist.
And those perfect hours and wondrous year*
Are jewels lost in a restless sea—
By sparkling wavelets carelessly kissed.
Then tenderly wafted back to me,
All dripping with crystalline tears.
—Laura C\ Arnold, in Life.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
A favorite winter resort—before tbe
fire.
A hard thing to sharpen—the water’*
dge.
A sole stirring subject—a bail in your
shoe.
Japan boasts of a singing fish. It has
musical scales, we suppose.— Siftings.
Bluebeard’s trade evidently waa that
of a belle-hanger.— Uartford Snnday
Journal.
Money Is yet quite hard to collect, and
e7cn coffee frequently refuses to settle.—
Jjowdl Citizen.
The grocer never sings “My way is
dark and lonely.” His weigh is usually
light.— St. Paul Herald.
The royal family always wears it trous
ers turned up at the bottom, because it ia
reigning in England.— Life.
It is very mortifying for a young man
to ask for a girl’s hand and receive her
father’s foot.— Lowell Citizen.
Kate Field asks: “How many women
marry a good man?” One at a time,
Kate, except in Utah.— New Haven News.
The difference between a porous
piaster and a lottery ticket is that the
plaster dnws something.— Philadelphia
Call.
Another peaceful Indian has been dis
covered in Montana. He has been pet
rified for over 1,000 years.— New York
Graphic.
An advertiser wants “astrong boy for
bottling.” It occurs to us that it would
be easier to bottle a wchk boy.—Phila
delphia Call.
A clock should please both capital
and labor. It works twenty-four hours
a day and goes on a strike every hour.—
Lowell Citizen.
Why is a reddish horse like a horse
radish? Because we can’t test the speed
of one,nor the virtue of the other, with
out putting a bit in the mouth.
A fuss a husband will create
If dinner’s cold ’cause he’s too late;
But he’ll get just as mad and surly
If he should come an hour too early.
—Ti d-Bits.
A fashion note says that cloaks to be
worn this winter will be short. That's
what’s the matter with many of tho
wearers as well.— B-nton Post.
Tho single man doth now appear
With overcoat upon his back.
The married man looks sad and drear,
While his wife gets into her sealskin sacque.
— Merchant-Traveler.
Paper shoes are now manufactured in
Paris, and are quite fashionable. Just
imagine a dainty slipper made up of
spring poetry and old love letters.—
Chicago Tribune.
Beets and carrots have grown to such
| a si e in Brule county this year that
farmers are com pc led to use stump
pullers to pull them from the ground.—
Chamberlain ( D. T.) Democra*.
The dutv of ten per cent, recently es
tablished by the United states (govern
ment on Spanish imports, will not affect
the price of pure Havana cigars, so many
of them being made in this country, any
i how.— Siftings.
| Costing $500,000 to Humor a Child,
i Here is a good story that Lady Bras
icy got in Constantinople: “We went
I down as far as the French bridge, over
which the contractor lost an immense lot
! of money in the following manner: The
bridge was to have been finished by a
! particular day, but the contractor found
: that this would be impossible with Turk
! ish workmen unless he worked day and
aight. This he obtained leave to do,
and the nccessnry lights ond torches were
I supplied at the Sultan’s expense. All
i went well for a time till the unfortunate
' contractor was told that he must open
the bridge to let u ship from the dock
; yard pa y 8 through some time before the
i bridge was finished. He said it wasim
: possible, a* he would have to pull every
• thing down, and it would take two or
! three months to replace the pile driving
machines. Uc went to the Minister of
Marine and Finance. They said: ‘lf
the Sultan says it must be done it must,
or we thall lose our places, if not our
heads.’ Ho the Rhip came out at a cost
of a little over £IOO,OOO, and a delay of
three months in the completion of the
■ bridge, all because the Sultan found bi*
small son crying in the harem one day,
l the child’s grief being that, though he
I had been promised to be made an Ad
miral, ho could not see his flag hoisted
oa his particular ship from the nursery
windows. Ho a large iron clad waa
brought out from the dock yard and
moored in front of Dolmabagtcheh to
gratify his infant mind, tons causing
, enormous inconvenience to the whole
town for months, lo say nothing of the
wnbte of money, of which the Sultan
paid very little, and for the loeaof which,
1 imagine, he cared still less.”
Use of letters
A schoolmaster wrote to a hdy:
How conic* it th s delightful weather,
That U aud 1 can’t dine together#
She answered:
My worthy friend it cannot be,
U canuot ooupJ till after T.
—Carl Pretzdf.