THE REPORTER AND POST.
VOLUME VI.
THE VLOIY or oon IN CKEATION.
Thero is, perhaps, BO better time to
consider the beauties and blessings which
surround us ; and though the lines of
Moore, given below, arc so well known,
they will boar repeating :
Thou art, O (iod, the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Il't glow by day, its smile by night.
Are but reflections caught from thee!
Where'er we turn thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.
When day with farewell l>eam delays,
Among the opening clouds of even,
Anil we can almoot think we gaie
Through golden vistas into Heaven;
Those hues tliat mark tlie sun's decline,
So sort, so radiant, Lord, are thine.
When night, with wings of stormy gloom,
O'ersluulows all tlie earth and skies,
I. ike some dark iwaiitcous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with a thousand dyes;
That sacred gloom, those flres divine,
So grand, so countless, lord, are thine.
When youthful Spring around i>s lireatlies,
Thy spirit warms lier fragrant sigh ;
And every flower the Summer wreathes,
Is born lieneath that kindling eye;
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.
Jealousy.
"1 don't belong to you yet, Mr. Heme
and you shall not select my acquaint
ances "
Bessie Ware's black eyes flashed very
wickedly as she added :
"I cannot allow you to dictate to
inc."
"I don'l wish to dictate to you, Bes
sie, but Warren Mann ii not a lit asso
ciate for you, and if you value iny opi
nion, you will forbid his visits. He is a
gambler, and—"
"You need not enumerate his faults.
He is a nice fellow, and I will go with
IIIIU when I choose," cried liessie, get
ting angrier every moment.
"I nevor thought you were a flirt,
llgstie, or that you would have trifled
with me as you liaye done. lam sor
ry."
"Ypi» needn't be sorry Mr. llc«ne.
We are uot suited to each other, and I
am glad we have found it out ia time.
You are jealoas aud exactiug."
"And you are a heartless coquette,"
cried Torn, getting angry in turn. "I
once hoped to be all to you, but that
hope is past. May Mr. Mann be more
fortunate than I. Good-bye !"
And with these words lie left the
room.
•'(), what have I done •" cried poor,
willful Bessie, sinking on the floor and
sobbing at if her heart would break.
She was aroused by a hand placed on
liar shoulder, and, looking up, she saw
the smiling face of Floy H.iyden, who,
seeing the flushed face and tear-stained
cheeks, exclaimed ;
"What it the matter with you, child?"
"Ob, Floy, I have driven hiui away,
and he will never come back, and I love
hiin so much," said Beskie, throwing
herself in her friend's arm.
"Who't gone ' Who will never come
back !" asked Kloy, slightly bewildered
at saeh an outburst froiu one who was
usual gay and happy.
"Tom," said Bessie. "And it wat
all uiy fault."
"Oh!" said Floy, beginning to un
derstand. "There, darling, don't cry ;
tell me all about it," he said soothingly.
Bessie managed to tell her story to
her friend, who said :
"It may not be so bad as y»u think,
dear . lie will be back in the morning to
beg forgiveness , he is as sorry as you
are."
Bessie was eomforted by this, al
though she passed a sleepless night.
Morniug came, then evening, but no
Thomas llerns Mr. Warren Manu
came, though, and made himself as fac
iaating as possible. But he found Bes
sie listless, and the very opposite of tlie
bright, talkative girl of the evening be
fore. He had nover appeared to her so
shallow as he did that night, or his oon
versation so nonsensical and silly.
"Hy the way, have you heard tlie
Dews, Mist Bessie'" be asked.
"No," said Bessie.
"About Mr. Heme?"
"What of biui ?" said Bestie, beooni
ing very much interested.
"I lb, nothing, only he is going
abroad; and, from what 1 hear, he ne
ver intends to eome back. Very .sud
den, isn't it? Heavens! are you ill,
Mill Bessie!" he aaked, as her face
grew desthly pale, nnd she looked as if
the wan gohig to Hwoon."
"Nothing," ilie answered, recovering
her sclt-coatrol by n great effort.
It would never do for Warren Mann
to know how inuoh Tom's departure af-
fee ted lier, and she commenced talking
of something else, striving to appear in
different, though it WAR hard to keep
bnek the tears. Soon after her visitor
took his leave, and Bessie gave vent to
her foelings. In a moment of anger
she had driven the man she almost wor
shipped from her, and for the sake of
ouo who hadn't three ideas in his head.
After a time she went to her room but
not to sleep.
"lie will find some. one else to love,
and forget in«," she said, to herself, and
the thought was almost maddening.
Meanwhile, while Thomas Heme was
sitting ia his room with his friend and
chuui Charley Graham, ho was moody
and sullen and Charley, noticing liis
dejected look, said :
"What's troubling you, old fellow
You look as if you were under son lencc.
Have you aud Bessie been quarreling J"
"Yc§," growled Tom.
"What about ?" asked Charley.
"I asked her to cease walking and
dancing with that confounded Maun,
and she said she would dance with whom
she pleased ; that I shouldn't dictate to
her, and that we were not suited to each
other, and broke her engagement. 1
am gifing abroad or somewhere ; I can't
stay here and sec her the wife of that
fellow."
' Tom," said Charlie, "you're a fool.
You know Bessie Ware loves you, aud
yet you turned jealous mid made an
idiot of yourself. You deserve to be
horsewhipped. As for going abroad,
you will do no such thing: you will stay
here and go to Bessie in the morning
and become reconciled to her."
'•I won't," cried Tom.
"Yet you will. You have made her
cry her pretty eyes nearly out."
"That will do, Charley," said Tom.
"Will it? Then go to bed, and sleep
if you can, after bohaving in such an in
sane manner."
"I will go just to get rid of you,"
growled Torn.
And then he tumbled into bed in a
bad humor with himself aud everybody.
All through the long night he lay think
ing of his lost IScssie, as he called her.
When moraiug cam# lie arose, looking
worn and haggard. Ho had made up
his mind to go somewhere, anywhere to
got away from the place where ho had
been so happy, but which now held no
oue who eared for hiui. He thought of
Bessie's charming ways and sweet face,
aud it seemed lo him that he loved her
all the inorc because he had lost her.
He took up a book, but before he had
read half a page, lie found himself spe
culating as to how soon the marriage
would take place. He opened his truuk,
and the first thing that met his eyes was
a gold locket. In it was portrayed tin
face of Bessie. Ho gazed at it for a
long while, and then, with a sigh, he
threw it down and left the house. He
walked on, not caring where lie wont,
aud soon found himself iu a small grove
of bushes, thickly covered in places by
climbing vines. 11l one of these places
ho sat down on a ruitic bench to think.
He now remembered that this was one
of Bessie's favorite retreats, it being on
her father's place. He had not been
there long when he heard voices, and,
uot wishing to be observed, lie drew
back oyt of sight iu the bushes. He
knew whose voices they were. The
speakers came up close to where he was,
and lie beard Warren Mann say :
"So you will not uiarry me, Miss
Ware. May I ask your reason !"
"1 do not love you, Mr. Mann. I
have no other feeling for you than that
of friendship."
"You love another, then!" said Mann.
And as Bessie made no answer, lie
turned and left the grovo. Bessie snt
still after he had gone, and Tom was
near enough to sec that she was unhap
py. While he watched her he saw tears
roll down her checks, and he heard her
murmcr something in which his own
nauic was mentioned. He crept nearer,
and she was saying :
j "Oh; Tom! Come back—l love you!"
Toai could control himself no longer,
and going nearer, le called, softly :
"Bessie!"
She sprang to her feet at the sound
of the voioe of one she loved so well,
and Tout clasped her to his breast and
kissed her passionately.
"I thought 1 had lost you darling,"
was all she could say as she hid her faoo
on his bosom aud wept for joy.
"\Vhen are y )u going abroad, Tom ?"
said Charley Graham, some time after
at they met in the street.
"Never," answered Tom, laughing.
Bessie and Tom were married, and on
tho same day Mr. Warren Mann was ar
rested for r bbery. Now there is no
happier eouple to be found thou Tom
and Bessie Heme.
DANBURY, N. C„ THURSDAY, JANUARY 12, 1882.
Farming In Dakota.
"Yes, sir," resumed the Dakota man,
as the crowd of agriculturists drew back
from the bar aud seated themselves
around a little table, "yes, sir, we do
things on rather a sizable scale. I've
seen a man on one of our big farms
start out in the spring and plough 1
straight furrows until fall. Then he 1
turned round and harvested back."
"Carry his grub with hiui !" asked a
Brooklyn farmer, who raises cabbages
on the outskirts.
"No, sir. They follow htm with a
steam hotel and have relays of men to
change plows for hiin. We have lug
farms up there, gentlemen. A friend
of mine owned one on which he had
given a mortgage, and I pledge yDU my
word, the mortgage was duo on one end (
before they could f.et it recorded at the
other. You see it was laid off in coun
ties."
There was a murmur of astonishment
and the Dakota man continued :
"I got a letter from a man who lives
in my orchard just before I left home, 1
and it had been three weeks getting to
the dwelling-house, although it had
travelled day and night."
"Distances are pretty wide up there, !
ain't they f" inquired a Now L'treeht !
agriculturist.
"Reasonably, reasonably," replied j
the Dakota man. "And the worst of it I
is, it breaks up families so. Two years |
ago I saw a whole family prostrated with
grief. Women yelling, children howl- !
ing, and dogs barking. One of the !
men had his camp truck packed on seven j
four mule teams and lie was around bid. 1
ding everybody good-bye.'
"Where WHS he going?" asked a'
Graves-end man.
"lie was going half-way across the I
farm to feed the pigs," replied the Da. j
kota man.
" I >id lie eve* got back to his fami- '
"It isn't time for liiin yet," returned
the Dakota gentleman. "Up there we
send young married couples to milk the
cows, and their children bring home the
milk."
"1 understand that you have fine
mines up that way," veulured a Jamai
ca turnip planter.
"Yes, but we only use the quarts for
fencing," said the Dakota man, testing
the blade of his knife, preparatory to
whetting it on his boot. "It won't pay
to crush it, because we cau tuako more
on wheat. 1 putin eighty-nine hundred
townships of wheat last spring."
"How many acres would that be f"
"Wo don't count by acres. We
count by townsships and counties. I made
$68,000,000 on wheat alone, aud 1
am thinking of breaking up from eighty
to a hundred more counties next sea
son.'
"Ilow do you get the help for such
extensive operations ?" asked the Mew
Utrecht man.
"Oh, labor is cheap," roplied the Da
kota man. "You can get all you want
at $27 to sl7 a day. Iu fact, 1 have
never paid over S2B.
"Is land cheap ?'
"No, land is high. Not that it costs
anything, for it don't; but under the
laws of the Territory, you have got to
take so much ijr none. I was in luck.
I had a friend at Yankton who got a hill
through the Legislature, allowing me to
take 250,000 square miles, which is the
smallest farm there, though it is—"
"Look here," said the barkeeper, as
the Eastern husbandmen strolled out in
a bunch to consider the last statement,
"is all this you've been telling true !"
"Certainly," responded the Western
man : "at least it is a modification of
what I saw in a Dnknta paper that was
wrapped around a pair of shoes last
night. I didn't care lo put it as strong
as the paper did, for no oue would be
lieve it. You can state that last round
of drinks and I'll pay in the morning-
I live right here on Myrtle avcuuo."—
Brooklyn Eagle.
Aldcruian Ellin, tho newly elected
lord mayor of l-ol.don owes liin success
says KII English paper, to a ciretnustanoo
highly creditable to his habits of indus
try. lie commenced bin business ca
reer as an apprentioc to the late Alder
man Musgrovo, a fish-monger. One day
hii empolyer left a banket of 6ih at his
office to be forwarded to the railway sta
tion. When he arrived at the station
he found Ellis instead of tho porter.
" Did 1 ask you to bring tho basket ?"
questioned tho aldcruian. "No, sir;
but tho porter did uot arriva in time, so
I brought it myself." His master was
so pleased with Kllis's sharpness that he
took the lad into his favor and ultimate
ly uiade him a partner.
Subscribe for the REPORTKB AND POST.
Only $1.50 a year.
rnliapp> Mnrr'aget.
TTlie truth is that those too frequrnt
"unhappy marriages" are he offspring
of ignorance quite as much as of actual
sin or wrongs. Fools, and especially
vicious fools, have no right to get pos.
session of an honest woman's life and
soul which they cannot comprehend,
and the elevating influence of which
they throw away even mor." by stupidity
than by willfulness. A woman, by her
sex and character, has a cUm to many
things beside shelter, food and clothing.
She is not less a woman for being wed
ded ; aud tlie man who is ft to be trust
ed with a good wife rceolkjts all which
this implies, and shows himself perpetu
ally chivalrous, swoet-spekrn, consider
ate aud deferential. Mb fools tui 
brutes who abound among may think
such demands hard ; buiAiey are not
nearly as bad as fo live tho cat-and-dog
life, missing the de irest possibilities of
human intercourse.
What right lias a man to expect hap
piness iu a household who brings no
sunshino into it ? What right, has he to
look for the graces anil refinements of
early love when he violates them by
rough speech, ill manner* and the disrc- |
gard of those little things upon which
the self-respect of a wife is built and
maintained ? The cynic who rails at
marriage is generally one and the same
with the thoughtless egotist who files
into the presence of bis wife careless,
stubborn and sour tempered, though lie i
never went to his mistress except on his j
best behavior. The fate is horrible ;
which a poor and faithful jirl may en- j
dure by encountering in him whom she
weds not mere actual cruelty or injury, i
but stupid incoiupetonee to understand ,
a woman's needs, dull tVrgetfuluess of [
the daily graces of life, and oblivious of ;
the fact that while men lave the world, j
women have only their home* Those
grossnesses of masculine ingratitude do
not, indeed, often lead td visibio catas
trophe, nor grow into absolute tyranny ;
but they equally tend that way. Tboy
drag down a wife's »oul to the point
where she must despair? they change
the sublime ineauirg of marriage to vul- ;
garity and weariness; they spoil the;
chance of that best unijLjn».->t of all cd- I
ucation which each nAu obtains who >
wins a '•easonably good woman for his
companion, aud thoy cost more to a mil
lion households than nuney or repent
ance can ever pay back
"When the Tide Conic* In "
There is a sadly romantic slofy con
nected with Far Kockaway, which any j
one can verify, as the pool sufferer is !
yet alive. Years and years ago a wo- }
man watched with agonjiiug dread the
fate of a vessel tossed upou the break- 1
ers, aud which depended u|>on the turn
of the tide for its chauec of safety.—
ller husband was on borrd, and the tide !
did turn, and the sehooiier came safely
into port; but the honor of suspense !
and anxiety were too uii'ch for the faith
ful wife, and she died io giving birth to j
a little girl, even as its, father clasped;
it ill his arms. The child, however, 1
now md for many yearns a woman, has
always lived in a state jbf half idiocy,
half insanity, her sufferings frightfully
auguie-'tcd by each recurring flowing in
of the tide. There aro / times when she
is comparatively quiet, Lid only moans,
like the sound of the sea. but the tidal
change wakes in her tliq intensest ago.
ny. Then she paces thai-beach wringing
her hnnds, and jan hardly bo restrained
from throwing herself iito the waves,
until the is past, aid she subsides
into sad, ftiltful, weary tjialhy again.
Ferctelllai IkeMt cnther
A. J. Pc Voo, the weather prophet of
llackcnsack, N. J.. sayi sometime ago
a gentleman of Chicago sent hint this
question : "flow can a [person foretell
ohangos in the weather Without the aid
of the telegraph or sfcntific instru
ments ?'* to which he re{ lies :
First —When you see n bank of thin,
hazy clouds along the n( pthwest, and it
is clear over the rest >f the heavens,
then the wind will be fro l the southeast
on the morrow, the t nperaturc will
rain in less than forty-el )tt hours.
Second —When ther« jls a dark ring
around the sun, there i a storm form
ing to the south of you j ind on the uior
row the wind will be urn the north
east with snow.
Third —When the i r looks vory
black and the stars ine unusually
bright, a storm will al KIHV suddenly
from the southeast, beg ling with auow
followed by rain.
If a person living i| (any section of
1 our country can cite ai instance when
I these rules did not op rate as I have
stated, 1 sbull bo pleas d to laar f.om
him. i
The Value of Scrap*
Few people appreciate the value of
little and apparently insignificant things.
! in some foreign countries tlio litter of
| domestic animals is carefnlly collected
and sold lo farmers. Not a few people
make a living gathering fertilizers in tliif
way. In the shops of jewelers and oth
ers where articls are manufactured of
gold and silver great caro is taken to pr«-
i Vent the waste of the preci >ua metals.
Every particle of filing, scraping or griud
; ing is preserved for the assayer. The
: wheels upon which gold aud silver have
been polished, when worm oat are burnt
and the fire develops particles of the pre
cious metals which could not be seen
by the naked eye. Even the swoepings
' after great care has been takcu to pick
up every bit of metal that may have fall
en on the floor, are preserved, and in
i New York city sell for S7O a barrel.
It is calculated that when a jeweler's
shop floor is to be renewed the dirt ac
-1 cumulated in the crevices will more than
pay the eosts of the new floor.
It is said that the receipts from the
sale of the refuse of slareh mills, which
is used by farmers as feed for hogs and
other stock, constitute a large part of
the profits, and if this refuse oould not
be sold some mills would be compelled
to stop or be run at a loss. The paper
"trimmings'' of a_largc printing ofticc
like tho Hapers or the Applctous arc
worth thousands of dollars a year. Lum
bermen have found uses for nearly ev
ery part of a tree, aud scraps that a few
years ago accumulated so rapidly as to be
a source of inconvenience and consequent
ly expense, nro now sold for a price and
arc in groat demand. There are in near
ly every branch of business "scraps" of
various kinds that, if carefully collected
could be sold at a pecuniary advantage
but this is particular)- so in the tobacco
business. Tho value of the tobacco
scraps it more highly appreciated in
Europe than in America, but even here
in the manufacture of cigars very little
it allowed to go to waste. Tobacco
cost* too rnueb to be wasted by the man
ufacturer.
The stems and ribs of tobacco leaves,
which are rejected by tlic cigarmaker
J arc sold to to far'"crs for manure. The
UIJ.I nirr. J-3 j -Oiit to TLIU
cigarette manufacturer,. or to Europe
for pipe smoking. Even the floor dust
has its price, aud is used as an insect de
stroyer in out houses and gardens. The
great waste iu tobacco is with the con
sumer. It is estimated that about one
third of the tobacco made into cigars
is thrown away in stumps, and that the
smokers of the best cigars throw away
the biggest stumps. This enormous
waste in this country is attributed large
ly to the Tory limited use of cigarhold
ers, which are more popular in Europe,
In Paris the gathering of cigar stumps
is a recognized industry, and in the Place
Maubert there is a regular market for
them. The stumps arc collected by boys
and girls and beggars, and are bought
iu large lots by wholesale dealers who
manufacture them into a low grade of
smoking tobacco which is either .sol 1 to
the poorer classes or exported. .Scores
of New York bootblacks and Italian rag
pickers may be seen  very morning gath
ering form the gutters, for their private
consumption, a harvest of cigar stumps
which have been swept into them.—
Cincinnati Commercial.
Jolui Wetlcj'iDream
John Wesley, the eminent theologian
onco was troubled in regard to the dis
position of the various sects, aud the
chances of each in reference to future
happiness or punishment. A dream one
night transported hiui in its uncertain
wanderings to the gates of boll.
♦'Are there any Koumn Catholics here?"
asked thoughtful Wesley.
" Yos was the reply.
"Any Presbyterians?"
"Yes," was again the answer.
"Any Congregationalisms !"
"Yes."
"Any Methodists !" byway of a clinch
er, asked the pious Wesley.
"Yes," was answered to his great in
dignation.
In the mystic way of dreams, a sudden
i transition, and lie stood at the gates of
heaven. Improving his opportunity, he
again inquired :
"Are there any Roman Catholics
here !"
"No," was replied.
"Any Presbyterians ?"
"No."
"Any Congregationalistsf"
"No."
I "Any Methodists?"
' "No."
I "Well then,' he asked, lost in won
der, who arc tlicy inside !"
I "CArw/mn*was the jubilant an
| swer. •
A Few ( old Spell*.
Old Rcnson Jones, of New Light
township, and Uncle Touuuie Hender
son. from the 'dark corner,' are in at
tendance upon the court. They met
this morning in front of the market for
the first time iu twenty years.
It made ns feel good to hear them
talk about old times, and especially the
weather.
"It begins to feel like winter time,"
said Benson.
"Yes, it does that," Uncle Tointnic
answered. "But this is nothing. You
remember the fall of 18&1 ? It com
moueed ill the fore part of November,
and froze stiff till March. That was a
stiff winter. It was so cold in my neigh
borhood that boiling water froze over a
hot fire. It's » faot."
"Yes," said Benson, "I recollect it
well. That's the fall that the milk froze
m the cows. But the cold season was
in 1827. It commenced in the middle
of October and ran through jo April.
All the oil froze in the lamps, and we
didn't have a light until Spring set in.
It is so."
'•Yes, I recollect that, too. But that
was uot as cold as the winter of 1821.
That season commenced in September,
and the mercury did not rise a degree
until May. Don't you recollect how we
used to breathe hard, let it freeze, cut a
hole in it, and crawl in for shelter ? You
have not forgotten all that ?"
We were getting interested, and ven
tured to ask if all the whiskey froze up
during that s;>oll.
"Not I," continued Uncle Tomuiic,
not noticing tit; "that is the winter we
had to give the horses lead to drink,
and then keep a hot fire under them so
it would not harden until they got it
down. But tho cold spell of 1817 beat
t«at, I lived in an ice house during the
whole time. It was too cold to go out
doors and I just camped there until July.
Why, we had to wear undershirts made
of sand piper, to keep up a friction !"
"Why," said Mr. Joner, "tlatis the
winter it took a steam grind stone four
days to light a match. But do you
know," continued Benson, "that I was
uncomfortably warm in that winter ?"
•'llowso demanded Uuclp Tomniie.
"Wliy, I k«pt warm In running nrolimr
your ics house to find out whore you got
ill. It was an awful spell, and lasted
from Auguit until tbe tenth of Jonu, if
you remember. But the snap of 1813
was cold, sure enough. It commenced
on the first of July and laatnd until the
sixth of July following. In this year
the smoke froze in the chimneys, and we
hnd to blast it out with powder. All
the clocks froze up and we did not know
the time for a year. There was a lot of
•offering that winter. We lived on al
cohol and phosphorus, till the aloohol
froze, and then we cat the brimstone ends
of matches and jumped around uutil
they caught fire. Hut—"
Hy this time quite a crowd had ga'h
ored. One little boy had froze fast to
the sidewalk and had to be prizod off.
Several were shaking with chills, and wc
shivered off to a place where we took a
drink of warm water, &c. We were
saved.
Making a Kew«|iii|icr.
'•There is nothing iu th# paper," said
i a young friend ilashiag it to the floor.
"No news at all: it's miserably, stupid."
Look again, ni) dear friend at tho care
fully printed columns, the diffcreut head
ings. foreign, home and domestic news,
the wit and humor. Thiuk for a moment
when you gaze at it how tho editor has
tried to please you. There is probably
no class of muu more overworked than
these, no labor more wearing than mcu
| tal labor. It is so easy to cry out, "Noth
! ing in the paper," for those who know
: little of the drudgery, the painstaking,
1 the hours of mental weariness, the tedi
i ioua compositions. It is a oommon
| thing for a person, when not exactly sutt
! od, to exclaim : "Tliore is nothing in the
: paper." In a railroad car 1 once observ
| ed two gentlemen purchase copies of the
; s:iiuo cditou of a paper. One •. oon Itand
j ed it to a neighbor exclaiming : "Here
Sam, have the morning paper. There
is nothing in it to-day ; it is hardly worth
reading." The other gentleman contin
ued to be absorbed. Presently the man
by Ins side asked him what interested
him so much. "Kvoiy thing: tho paper
is well gotten up this morning ; tliecd-
I itonals arc Mpccially fine." 1 his proves
that what pleases one docs suit the other,
lie assuted it is no child's (day to edit
and conduct a newspaper, it is a very
tedious. rcs|Hinsiblc position, and the man
who manages a well circulated satisfacto
ry nowspaper lias almost the wisdom of
a Solomon, Lot those who doubt take
the editor's place for a while, nothing
more is needed of a grumbler. Our
I friend, when she is tempted to make such
; silly remarks, had better pause to consid
er the fault be in the paper or her silly
| head.— Exchange.
NO. 29.
KM.41.1, RITEft.
Flattery ia like colone water; to bo
Kindled of riot swallowed.
Kinduess is the golden chain by which
society is bound together.
A failure in a good sause is better
than a tridmph in a bad one.
Girls of fourteen are Bent by Mormon
missionaries from Sweden to Utah.
No charge should be advanced except
upon proof sufficient to sustain it.
The best penance for envying anoth
er's merit is to endeavor to surpass it.
Let us always bo cheerful ; if life is
a burden, let it be u burden of a song
A houfo without newspapers and
books is like a house without windows.
Why is a schoolmistress like the letter
C I Because she forms lasses into class
es.
Thare is ono thing in this world that
money cant buy, and that is the wag of
a dog's tail.
It takes just throe persons to keep a
seeret properly, but two of the three
must be dead.
Never bo angry with a uaan who
threatens to blow your brains out.
lie flatters you.
*TI« an excellent world tliat we live in ;
To lend, to itpciid, or to give in ;
Hut to borrow or bog, or get a man's own,
'Tittjunt the very worxt world that ever WR* known.
The difference between a hill and a
pill is that oue is hard to' get up and
the other is hard to get down.
When a fellow gets a wife he exclaims
'won at last." When he gets the di.
voroe it is still 'one at last.'
"What is the worst thing about rich
es ?" asked the Sunday-school superin
tendent. And the new boy said "Not
having any."
Judge—Have you anything to offer
to the court before sentence is passed on
you i Prisoner—No, Judge, 1 had $lO,
but my lawyers took that.
The young wouiau who usod to sing
so divinely, «Ob, had I the wings of a
dove," is satisfied with a chicken leg
now. She is married now.
The word "boirn," so commonly used
now in the papers, is a western expres
sion applied to streams swollen by the
rains. When the water is running high
ihey say tho river or ereek is "boom
ing."
There were two eat* In Kilkenny,
Kadi thought Ihure wan one cat too many,
No they cln«ed and they lit,
Ami tliey HcraU-hedand they bit,
t'ntll, axi eptlng their nalli
And the tip* of their tail*,
I iintcad of two cat* there waxn't any.
The country is beginng to think that
while Arthur ia nominally l'rosident
Grant is the power behind the throne.
The New York Tribune, a Republican
pallor warns Arthur that the ooutry will
not again submit to the rule of Grantisui
either in person *r by proxy.
liitcrary : Wanted—A story of a
burglary or ghosts in which the nfght is
uot very dark without, and the wind does
not blow in fitful gusts and the old oak
in trout of the house does not groan
dismally. On receipt of such we agree
to return the manuscript.
A father, fearing an earthquake in
the region of his home, sent his two
boys to a distant friend's, until the peril
should be over. A few weeks after the
father reeeived this lcttcrfroiu his friend :
"Please take yojr two boys liouie, and
scud down the earthquake."
Twas 1 young printer's devil who ask
ed fn- a kits, but she replied, did this
pert little Miss; "You look inky and
black, though your head may be level,
and I'll never consent to be kissed by
the devil." Years passed aid the Miss
became an old maid with frizios and
curls false teeth and pomade. Thon
sadly she sought to recall the old issue;
but the printer replied . "The devil
won't kiss you."
A fair and buxoin widow, who had
burid 'hree husbands, recently went
with a gentleman, who, in bis younger
days, had paid her marked attcution, to
inspect the graves of her dear departed.
After contemplating them in painful si
lence, she murmured to her companion :
"Ah, James, you might have been in
that row now if you had only had a little
uioro courage."
A little Idaho tlircc-ycar old fell into
a well recently, where tbo wator was
only six inches deep, and remained there
some time before he was discovered.
When he was finally rescued his pentup
love knew no bounds. There was ory
ing about it, and such a volley of invec
tives upon the heads of neglectful par
ents never before fell froiu childish lips.
Here is a sample : "You fink I kin tay
in a well wifout no/Tn to eat like a fog*
'Ky wasn't no better fadcr'n mudder'a
'oud I'd do wifout children!"
Mrs. Sooville, Guiteau's sister, is a
rather pretty, middle-aged woman, with
a real good expression, eyea darkish,
hair of a snowy grav, and HUM and fore
head a little Uko the prisoner's. She
looked very much like the substantial
farmers' wives ol' Central New York.—
A little boy sat her, in a white cap with
blue ribbons, probably her obild. Mr.
Scoville also ia a perfectly respectable
well attired man, his voioe kind, as bia
eyes are. 'J lie prisoner scarcely seems
to have any relevancy to tho family
around him.