Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 July 1884 — Page 6

A uin&K-sui'cuman. H ® r^ od - 116 waa waa aidlr Tb*» women prized only • T!et If’esl devotion he i-ou®^^— a ma jj nC^UmentaL ®B23S£,??S7 U& ™. ™l—* ' eould never compete With hU mala andaome and witty. **WhetTml* 1 K* fearscrnel warfare lon?waged, n. t „™ n eve. In the conr-ie of hla wooing, Sett to bo frightened, proposed, was engaged. Ere either knew what they were doing. Two hoars swiftly passed, a dream without Ik- ak. In soft words that won't bear repeating. And as ho arose his deimrtnre to take. Both were atrstok with the “sense of the meeting." He turned In pretense of inspecting some toy, Bat twinged with a sharp melancholy; To Imagine my life could be crowned with such Joy; Oh, worse than a fool In my follv! Tit my w- alch that she nets, while my heart she begmlies; Such a jewel demands a rich setting. And her raptmous smiles are but feminine wiles, As I’ll find when too late for regretting." And meanwhile she stood there adoring his back. And felt her poor heart beating faster, At thought of her freedom now gone all to rack. At the touch of her destiny's master. A quick flash of fooling gave warning of tears, But to weep would, she thought, be atrocious; 80 she doubled her fists to light town her tears, Assuming a frown quite ferocious. Her kittenish caper he plainly beheld. In the pier glass eside him reflected; Staking laces at him 1 So his lost hopes were foiled. Thank heaven her deceit I’ve detected!" Tbo hurt for reproach, he hnrriedly lett. And a letter availed to discover, That an accident, hapless, her life had bereft Of her super-sensitive lover. Bne answered the idiot whose heart she had “wrecked," That since he had failed to believe her, 80 suspicious a man she could never respect. Then took to her bed with a fever. He sailed with a spirit so heavy it near Sunk the ship in mid-ocean; Bat returned; they were married early last year, And forgot is their courtship's commotion. — tit. Louis Republican.

At the Cream-Colored Cottage.

BY SARA B BOSE.

“How do you do, Mary ? I have had it in my mind all the spring, ever since you had bought a place in the country, to come down and stay all summer with you. 1 knew you would want some one to advise you about furnishing, and so on, and I knew I was just the one to do that, so here I am.” Mrs. Holmes welcomed her effusive epusin cordially, although she secretly felt able to furnish her house herself, with no advice but that of her daughters, but Cousin Martha had, ever since she had been a widow, been in the habit of living around among her relatives, and, indeed, levying her tax upon every one who had ever invited her to their house, when the pleasure of her company became burdensome to her relations.

True, some women would have preferred taking up some branch of industry to sponging around upon relatives and friends; but, happily or unhappily for herself, Martha Mason was not one of this kind. She felt that the world owed her a living, and until some unlucky man chose her again for a wife, she meant that the world should pay its debt- “ What a queer-looking house this is, isn’t it? One of the old, old-fashioned gothics; it would have been quite a gem for its antiquity, if some one had not attempted to rejuvenate it by painting it such a sickly cream color. ” “I like it pretty well,” returned Mrs. Holmes, who had the house painted herself. “And Belle and Clara think when the leaves of the ivy come out, the house will look very picturesque. ” “As if their taste was anything. I should have it painted again this very spring, if I were you." “Would you 'not like to go to vour room now, Martha?” asked Mrs. Holmes, who rather dreaded her cousin’s sarcastice tongue, and wanted to be the first to tell the girls of the dread arrival, and to talk them over a little before they met their cousin face to lace. “Perhaps I bad better, but you must 'call me an hour before dinner, for I wish to give the girls some directions, for I cannot say that I exactly fancy siheit cooking. And with a little derisive laugh the lady followed her large Saratoga trunk to her room, and Mrs. Holmes descended to the kitchen in the basement. “Girls,” said she, in a little fear of their reply, “Cousin Martha has come to spend the summer with us. ” “Without an invitation; that is just like her!” cried Clara, in dismay. “I shall not wait on her; if she stays here this summer she will make up her hed for all me, ” was Belle’s comment. “Girls,” said Mrß. Holmes, in dismay, ■“remember your cousin is a widow and has no home.” “And so are you a widow, mother, «nd it would be just as much right for Jen to expect her to support you as for er to expect you to support her.” “Well, girls, I thought I would tell you beforehand, and I expect you to treat her with respect, at least. I must see about the table now. ” “If mother was not so kind to her «he would not dare come around so,” said Clara, when her mother had left ’them. “We would not mind it so much if *he were not continually meddling with 'us,” replied Belle. “She will have a grand time with the boarders now. ” “She will be after Mr. Jewett, won’t -she? I wonder how mamma will like that." And Clara laughed slyly. J* the meantime Mrs. Mason crimped *ll the front of her rather carroty hair, and pulled out the blue ribbon bows of her rather youthful gray dinner dress, and laid herself down for a little nap before donning it; for dress well Martha Mason would, if all the cousins and Imfl-cousins in the world donned sackufofch and ashes, while they toiled for l^lyapport. she dinner was already on the table vrhyp Mrs. Mason came down, for Mrs. Holfoes by some oversight had iorgotQfipp call her until the last minute. fi|e was in her element when she al boarders, engineers from the railroad building near by, at the tattffipe of whom, Mr. Jewett, a man of about 45 years, she began to make eyes it, notwithstanding she had heard that there was an engagement of marriage between him and her corns in,

For was not she, herself, better dressed than her cousin, and a lady? While Mrs Holmes toiled for the bread she ate, besides being two years older than he self? Reason told Mrs. Mason she would win, if she but showed herself willing to engage in a second matrimonial scheme. “How did you leave your brother’s people?” inquired Mrs. Holmes, when her guest was seated amid a great flutter of ribbons and laces. “Very nicely, indeed; it is one of the pleasantest places I know. Sister Lucy has two servants, and they set the most luxurious table one could think of. Have the girls improved any in cooking since I was with you, Cousin Mary ?” “Oh, I don’t know; my daughters are both very good cooks. I can not think what I should have done if my girls had not helped me as they have done.” “A mother’s partiality.” returned the pleasing Mrs. Mason, glancing with a smile at Mr. Jewett. “I can speak of the girls’ proficiency in cooking myself,” said Mr. Jewett, smiling. “Having been here so long, I know what experts in the art they ___ _ 99 &r 6 Mrs. Mason smiled rather uneasily, one of her studied points being the art of making other people feel small, and she had hoped Mr. Jewett would agree with her sentiments in regard to the girls. When the dinner was finished, Mr. Jewett followed the ladies into the parlor, saying: “I cm going to drive five miles this afternoon to inspect a bridge, and I would like the company of you ladies, if agreeable to you both.” Mrs. Holmes gave him a reassuring smile and bow, and Mrs. Mason made him a very polite reply, in a very grandiloquent manner, and the gentleman then departed, after informing them that he would drive around for them at about 5 o’clock. Before the time appointed, Mrs. Mason had made another ostentatious toilet, and joined Mrs. Holmes and her daughters in the sitting room. “What an elegant man Mr. Jewett is, and how kind of him to plan that drive on the very first day of my visit, for, of course, he saw that I would be very lonely here. ” “Mr. Jewett is a very kind man,” replied Mrs. Holmes, while the girls winked at each other behind their elders' backs.

“And lie thinks of all the proprieties, too,” sighed their visitor, “for he thought, of course, that I would not accompany him alone at this very early stage of our acquaintance, and so invited you to act the part of chaperon for me.” Mrs. Holmes found that her thimble wa3 missing at this moment, and Clara attempted to turn the subject by asking. “How do you like our new house, Cousin Martha?” “Quite well, if it was not where it is, and of such a hideous color, and eo very, very old.” “Now, I think the color is very nice,” was Clara’s reply, “a very delicate color for this old gothio stone house. I should feel very proud of it, if it was only a little more out of the way of obnoxious visitors.” Mrs. Holmes gave her daughter a look, but their cousin went on calmly. “I have been overlooking the upper part of the house, but I could not find the third-story stairs, or isn’t there any?” “I believe not,” replied Clara, who was at that moment thinking over a place for her meddling visitor’s benefit. “How odd,” said Cousin Martha, but at that moment the elderly beau drove up, and the middle-aged three departed on their pleasure drive. After they were well gone the girls looked at each other and laughed heartily. “I decl re, Clara, she is worse than ever,”said Belle. “And she thinks Mr. Jewett is after her,” cried Clara, with tears of laughter in her eyes. “1 thought I should die when she told mamma that Mr. Jewett asked her for a chaperon for herself.” “Do you know what I should have done had I been in mamma’s place then ?” asked Clara. “Something awful, I suppose; what would you?” “I should have told her distinctly to pack her trunk and I would send her to the depot in the morning.” “It would be the very best thing to do; but mamma won’t say a thing, so we shall have to put up with her the whole livmg summer.” “She’ll try her best to cut mamma out.”

“And she will talk so about the cooking that all the boarders will leave.” “Now, Belle,” said Clara, solemnly, “if you will promise not to say one word to mamma I have a plan by which I think we can make Madame Martha betake herself to her brother’s, where they have everything so luxurious, and who is indeed three times as able to take care of her as mamma is.” “But you will have to look out what you do, or mamma will be very angry at us both, for she always lays half the misohief to me. ” “Very unjustly, too; but she won’t find us out this time. Let’s make Martha believe the cottage is haunted.” “How could we do that ?” “Easy enough; you know she said she had been searching around for the third-story stair-case, and could not find it. Well, you know as well as I do that there are two, one opening into our room with a curious sliding panel, and the other opening, into hers with another. Now she wi 1 never find out that those panels are doorways.” “I don’t know as she would but mother will tell her. ” “No, she will not, for I told her not to; because we have all our dresses and everything in the attio, and we did not want her inspecting them.” “Very well, but still I do not see the point.” “The point is just this, I am going to appear to her.” “Clara Holmes!” “I’ll see if she will make ns all uncomfortable all summer, without saying as much as by your leave.” “But she will demand another room.” “Then we will exchange with her.” “Capital! it will be lots of fun.” Mrs. Mason was in ecstasies over her

drive, telling the girls how many agreeable thongs Mr. Jewett had said to her during the afternoon, and, as soon as tea was over, she followed him into the boarders’ parlor, where he sat reading by the shaded lamp. “What a fool she is!” said Clara, impatiently. “She is not very far-seeing,” replied Mrs. Holmes. “But I hope you girls will always treat her with the most unvarying courtesy.” Mrs. Holmes had alwiys given the parlor up to the boarders during the evening, but to-niglit, out of courtesy to her guest, she sat down near her while she chatted and talked in a way j that was very embarrassing to her host- ! ess. The girls came to her relief at last, inviting their sociable cousin to see an aquarinm in another apartment. She soon made a move to return. “We never sit with the gentlemen evenings,” said Clara. “You don’t; why what do they think ?” she exclaimed. “Not a thing, Cousin Martha; they are not guests you know, only boarders, and we have to be very particular because they are all strangers, with the exception of Mr. Jewett.” “But I do not think it is treating them well.” “You would find they would soon be laughing at us if they thought we desired their attentions.” “What girls you are,” sighed their visitor, who would have liked nothing better than a flirtation with the whole six. That night Martha Mason was lying awake in Mrs. Holmes’ best bed-room, congratulating herself that she had come just at the right time. “The girls do not care for my company, I know,” she ruminated. “But Mary will not allow them to say a word against my staying here, although I don’t believe she wants me very bad herself. But go back and go to work in James’ kitchen I won’t, especially as Mr. Jewett is here. I shouldn’t wonder at all if I could get him away from Mary; that is, if they will allow me to say a word to him alone. It certainly was a promising move his inviting me to drive the first day. How queer Mary is, and what old maids those girls are. ” The clock here slowly chimed out the midnight hour and close upon it came a long-drawn sorrowful moan. Martha Mason’s blood fairly chilled in her veins, for she was the greatest of cowards, but at length she looked fearfully around her, and there in the middle of the room was a ghastly white figure with a long,slender finger pointed directly at her. “Heavens!” she shrieked, and buried her head in the depths of the bed clothes, not daring to speak or look around her. She remained perfectly quiet until nearly morning, and when she dared to look the terrible thing was no more to be seen. She was one of the earliest risers in the cream-colored cottage, and she would have departed instantly had it not been for the glorious chances for flirtation there. But for fear of the girls’ ridicule she said not a word of her visitant, but during the day she said to Mrs. Holmes:

“Mary, that room you gave me is fearfully damp.” “My other rooms are all full,” faltered Mrs. Holmes. “You could exchange with us,” said Clara, trying her best to control her risibles. “That will be much better,” said Martha, who cared not a whit for the effect of the ghost upon her young cousins’ nerves. Accordingly, that evening, after she had received a quiet snubbing from Mr. Jewett, who persistently read his paper during her most brilliant flights of conversation, the exchange was made. But poor Martha fared no better, for at midnight, when she was quietly sleeping, feeling secure, now that she was not in the haunted room, a cold hand was passed over her brow, and she sprang up to see the same fearful figure standing near her, and to hear a fearful, gurgling sound as of some one choking to death. More frightened than before, she escaped from the room and ran into Mrs. Holmes’, crying: “Mary, did you know this house was haunted?” “Why, what is the matter?” asked her cousin. “I should not like such 4 report as that to get out among mi boarders.” - “It is true; I have Been the ghost both nights.” “Martha, be careful what you say. such a story as that would drive every boarder from the house.” “I can’t help it; it is true, and I shall tell it.” “But you will break up my business.”

“I don’t care; it’s true. I shall tell it.” Clara and Belle had just entered the room, and seeing how angry her mother looked, Clara ventured: “Perhaps it would be better, if you believe such a thing as that, for you to go away quietly, and not attempt to break up mother’s business by telling your silly story.” “Yes, that would be much better,” Baid Mrs. Holmes, who believed it a sham of her cousin’s to attract the boarders’ attention; and was very much displeased. Martha had not expected such a denouement as this, but she was obliged to acquiesce, especially as Clara gave her no chance to tell her story to any of the gentlemen, by keeping constantly by her side, and helping her about, her packing, and even ae'ompanying her to the depot, where Martha gave her a parting shot by saying: “I b. lit'Ve it was all your work, young j lady, just to get rid of me because you I was jealous of me; but you need not be ! so rejoiced; no man in his senses would ' look at such a red-headed,®freckle-faced thing as you are. ” But she believed in the ghost all the same, for she would not attend Mr. and Mrs. Jewett’s wedding, for fear she would have to spend a night under the roof of the Cream-Colored Cottage.

Indignant eater to waiter: “Do you call that a mutton-chop to bring to a gentlemen?” Waited, apologetically: “Beg pardon, sir. Chops is chops with us. Gentlemen and others gets exactly the same. It would be ’ard to make a distinction. ” — Bouton Gazette.

A Remarkable Case.

A rather peculiar case of murder in the first degree was tried by a Justice of the Peace whose jurisdiction lies along the river below Little Bock. A wellknown planter named Milton became invok ed in a quarrel with a halfSpaniard, half-negro man, known as Bad Jim. Words of uncomplimentary definition were exchanged, and Bad Jim, drawing a knife, rushed at Milton, who, expecting an attack, jumped backward, drew his pistol, and fired, just having time enough to level the weapon between himself and the assailant. The ball struck Bad Jim in the forehead, just above the eye, and so close was he th*t the flash of the powder burned his face. The planter surrendered himself, telling the negro officer that he had killed a m n, and related in detail an account of the affair. The day for trial was appointed, and when Milton appeared before the negro Justice of the Peace he learned that he was charged with murder in the first degree. “This case is beyond your jurisdiction,” he said to the magistrate. “You can only bind me over to appear before the Grand Jury.” “De cou’t ain’t axed fur yer ’pinion in de case, prisoner at de bar. De ’dictment says murder in de fust degree, and dat’s de way I’se gwine ter try yer.” Just then Bad Jim entered the courtroom. The ball had flat! ened against his skiill, passed under the skin over the top of the head, and come out at the back of the neck. “Come right in,” said the Judge. “I’se glad ter see yer, fur yer’s a mighty ’portant witness in dis heali case. Go on wid de testimony, gennermen." “Your Honor,” remarked Milton, arising, “the appearance of this man shows conclusively that I did not commit murder of any kind, and, after all, you can only arraign .me for assault with intent to kill.” “I tells yer dat I neber axes de prisoner at de bar whut his ’pinion ’o de law is. De ’ditement says murder in de fust degree, an’ dat’s de way we’se boun’ ter try yer. Go on wid de testimony, gennermen.” “Judge, I never heard of such a case,” said a lawyer. “A man to testify that he has been murdered in the first degree, is something which finds no parallel in history.” “Whut’s dat? Parallel. Mr. Clerk, enter up er fine o’ ten dollars agin de gennermaa. fur contempt o’ dis cou’t. We’ll rule out Had Jim’s statement. Go on wid de testimony, gennermen. ” After a close examination of the witnesses and elaborate arguments by the lawyers, the jury rendered a verdict of guilty.

“Prisoner at de bar,” said the magistrate in a voice of deep solemnity, “yerse’f hab been tried by a jury o’ yer countryman an’ hab been foun’ guilty o’ murder in de fust degree. I’se sorry fur yer. When a man starts out in dis wori’ wid good prospects, it am de might blow ter be cotch up by de law an hung. I’se sorry fur yer. Let us pray. Lawd, yer serbants hab met yer ter-day on er mighty solmn ’casion, an’ myse’f, whut am de jedge, an’ doan’ lose sight o’ dat sack, Lawd, am mighty sorry fur dis man. Amen. Prisoner at de bar, dis cou’t sentences yer ter be hung de fust Friday in naixt week. De cou’t is sorry fur yer, but dar kain nothin’ be dun ter sabe yer.” “Judge,” said the prisoner, “I am sorry, much more so than you can possibly be. I have always had great respect for you and hoped to live to see you on the supreme bench of the State. I was talking to the Governor some time ago, and we agreed that you should be our Chief Justice, and that we would work for that purpose. After I am dead, I am afraid that the Governor will have to battle alone. ” “HoT on, prisoner at de bar, an’ lemme ax de Lawd a ’portant question. Lawd, mus’l turn dis man er loose? De Lawd, say yas. Prisoner at de bar, dis cou’t changes its ’cision. Yerse’f is a free white man. Mr. Constable, arres’ Bad Jim on er charge er interferin’ wid dis cou’t. Good-ebenin’, gennermen. De cou’t’s gwine ter git suthin’ ter eat. ” —Arkansaw Traveler.

Taking Cold.

There is an old saying, “When the air comes through a hole, say your prayers to save your soul;” and I should think almost any one could get a cold with a “spoonful of water, or the wrist held to a key-hole.” Singular as it may seem, sudden warming when cold is more dangerous than the reverse; every one has noticed how soon the handkerchief is required on entering a heated room on a cold day. Frost-bite is an extreme illustration of this. As the Irishman said, on picking himself up, it was not the fall, but stopping so quickly that hurt him. It is not the lowering of the temperature to the freezing point, but its subsequent elevation, that devitalizes the tissue. This is why rubbing with snow or bathing in cold water is required to restore safely a frozen part; the arrested circulation must be gradually re-estab-lished, or inflammation, perhaps mortification, ensues. General precautions against taking cold are almost self-evident in this light. There is ordinarily little, if any, danger to be apprehended from wet olothes, so long as exercise is kept up, for the “glow” about compensates for the extra cooling by evaporation. Nor is a complete drenching more likely to be injurious than wetting of one part. But never sit still wet, and, in changing, rub the body dry. There is a general tendency, springing from fatigue, imfolence, or indifference, to neglect damp feet; that is to say, to dry them by the fire; but this process is tedious and Uncertain. I would say especially, off with the muddy boots and sodden socks at once—dry stockings after a hunt may .make just the d ffereoce of .your be.ng able to go on again or never. Take care never to check perspiration ; during this process the body is in a somewh .t critical condition, and a sudden arrest of the function may result disastrously—evqn fatally. Cue part of the business of perspiration is to e ualize bodily temperature, and it must not be interfered with. The

secret of much that is to be said about bathing, when heated, lies here. A person overheated, panting it may be, with throbbing temples and a dry skin, is in danger, partly because the natural cooling by evaporation from skin is denied, and the condition is sometimes not far from a “sunstroke.” Under these circumstances a person of fairly good constitution may plunge into the water with impunity—even with benefit. But if the body be already cooling by sweating, rapid abstraction of heat, from the surface may cause internal congestion, never unattended with danger.— Cones’ Field Ornithology.

The Great Epoch of Internal Improvements.

The four years’administration of John Quincy Adams is commonly spoken of as a very uninterestmg period, but it was in one respect more important than the twenty years that went before it or the ten years that followed. For the first time the inhabitants of the United States began to find out how very large a country they lived in. From occupying a mere strip of land on the Atlantic they had spread already through New York and Ohio; but it was by detached emigrat ons, of which the nation was hardly conscious, by great single waves of population sweeping here and there. After 1825 this development became a self-conscious and deliberate thing, recognized and legislated for, though never systematically organized by the nation. When, between 1820 and 1830, Michigan Territory increased 260 per cent., Illinois 180 per cent.. Arkansas Territory 142 per cent., and Indiana 133 per cent., it indicated not a mere impulse but a steady progress, not a wave but a tide. Now that we-are accustomed to the vast statistics of to-day, it may not seem exciting to know that the population of the whole nation rose from nearly ten millions (9,633,822) in 1820 to nearly thirteen (12,866,020) in 1830; but this gain of one-third was at the time the most astounding demonstration of national progress. It enables us to understand the immense importance attached in John Quincy Adams’ time to a phrase now commonplace and almost mean ingless—“internal improvements. ” It is true that under John Quincy Adams more commercial treaties were organized than under all his predecessors; but this, after all, was a minor benefit. The foreign commerce of the United States is now, itself, comparatively speaking, subordinate; it is our vast internal development that makes us a nation. It is as the great epoch of internal improvements that the four years from 1825 to 1829 will forever be momentous in the history of the United States.

In 1825 the nation was in the position of a young man who becomes aware that he owns a vast estate, but finds it to bo mostly unproductive, and hardly'even marketable. Such a person sometimes hits upon a very energetic agent, who convinces him that the essential thing is to build a few roads, bridge a few streams, and lay out some building lots. It was just in this capacity of courageous adviser that John Quincy Adams was quite ready to offer himself. On the day of his inauguration the greater p irt of Ohio was yet covered with forests, and Illinois was a wilderness. The vast size of the country was still a source rather of anxiety than of pride. Monroe had expressed the fear that no republican government could control a nation reaching as far as the Mississippi; and Livingston, after negotiating for the purchase of Louisiana, had comforted himself with the thought that a large part of it might be resold. At that time this enormous annexation was thought to endanger the very existence of the original thirteen States. We must remember that when John Quincy Adams became President the nation had been governed for a quarter of a century under a succession of Democratic administrations, acting more and more on Federalist principles. The tradition of States-rights had steadily receded, and the reality of a strong and expanding nation had taken its place. The very statesmen who had at first put into the most definite shape these States-rights opinions had, by their action, done most to overthrow them, Jefferson above all. By the purchase of Louisiana he had, perhaps unconsciously, done more to build up national feeling than any President before him. Having, by a happy impulse, ahd in spite of all his own theories, enormously enlarged the joint territory, he had recognized the need of opening and enlightening the new possession ; he had set the example of proposing national appropriations for roads, canals, and even education; and had given his sanction (March 24, 180 o) to building a national road from Maryland to Ohio, first obtaining the consent of the States through which it was to pass. To continue this policy would, he admitted, require constitutional amendments, but in his closing message he favored just these changes. It was but a step from favoring constitutional amendments for this purpose to doing without them. Jefferson, Madison, Monroe had done the one, John Quincy Adams did the other.— T. W. Higgin--Bon, in Harper’s Magazine.

Making a Railroad.

When the war closed one of the Georgia railroads hadn’t a depot or a freight house on its line, and i's rolling stock consisted of two old locomotives aud four flat-cars. These couldn’t roll until new ties and rails were laid, and the outlook was dubious enough. However, the President called a meeting of the board to see what could be done. When he had stated the condition of the track and equipment he added that the company hadn’t a dollar in cash and no collateral to borrow money on. He then asked what should be done. “I move we declare a divid nd of 10 per cent.,” boldly replied one of the Directors. It was a thunderclap which knocked ’em all down; but he followed it up by offering to loan the company $12,000 to make the dividend, and a dividend was declared. The stock at onde leaped from 04 to 90 cents, and in a year it was held at 108, and paying dividends on that. He has enough who ii content.

HUMOR.

No man ever made an ill figure wh< understood his own talents, nor a goo<j one who mistook them. Some one asks: “How long is a mar a bridegroom?” Not very long. Ini majority of cases he becomes “short* before the wedding tour ends.—Norristown Herald. “Is this a singing doll?” asked sh< of the clerk. “Yes, Mademoiselle. * “How do you make it sing?” “Just a* you would any other young ladv.* “How is that?” “By pressing it." “O !” “Do you paint yet?” asked an old friend of a feminine artist, whom she had not seen for many years. “Yes,” was the answer, “I sti lpa nt. I paint the children red and put it on with my slipper.” “So Miss Skimps and Mr. Limbs are to get married. Well, I declare! That aged couple. And she is old enough to be ha mother.” “Indeed she is. And as for him—why, he’s old enough to be her father.” THE SLAM OF LIFE. Tell me not in mournful numbers "Life is but an empy dre; m:“ If you eat, p-ay, two cu umbers, Things will be just what they seem. —Chattanooga People’s Paper. We wrote that “all the windows in a certain dusty village looked as if thCy needed washing.” The printers set it up “all the widows.” A sco.eormoreof letters came “in haste, ” “stop my paper. ” —Nashville World. An Arkansas Grand Jury has indicted a Justice of the Peace for attempting to play on a clarionet. This will for a time satisfy the country that the Grand Jury system is not an entire failure.—Arkansaw Traveler. PURE WOMAN’S LOVE. ■Woman’s greatest beauty is lore; ’Tis tested, oft-times shaken; If nourished, like a rose it b.ooms. But withers if forsaken. Then blest is he by wi.om ’tis nursed— By God ’twos made and given; There is no greater beauty than l use woman's love—\ia heaven. —Philadelphia Call. HER STRONGHOLD WAS TAFFY. She had no wealth of flowing tresses; She had no wondrous store of tin; Her hair and purse, tae bard confesses, Were rather thin. You wonder, then, what was her dower? Well, I will try to ted you briefly; It was her taffy-giving power, Foremost and chiefly. —Harvard Lampoon The hour was twilight, and as the luster of the stars grew brighter in the gathering darkness he pressed his lips to the forehead of the beautiful woman who stood beside him and said tenderly; “When will you consent to name the day of our union, darling—to let the wings of my imagination rest ?” She answered,nestling her cheek against his shoulder: “When you have had your life insured, dearest, and made me a present of the policy.” A merchant in Berlin, having fallen in love with an opera singer, purchased two dresses and sent them to her to make her choice, saying he would call to know her decision. Shortly, however, before the hour he had intended to set out on his errand, the merchant received from his beloved a biliet doux to the following effect: “Of the dresses you have sent I I ke one quite as well as the other. I will, in fact, keep both, so that you have no need to call.” Visitor “You should know the Simpkinses. They are such cultivated people and have no end of wealth. They winter every year in the south of Europe.” Hostess—“l must, indeed. They can tell me the most desirable places for us to spend the winters hereafter.” Visitor—“ And do you think of gofng abroad?” Hostess—“Oh, yes I You see, it don’t matter much where we live now, as my husband has retired from business, and I thought a few winters in Europe, varied by an occasional tour around the world, would —” Hostess’ Daughter (opening the door) — “Ma, here is the butcher’s boy again with that same horrid old bill. Shall I tell him yofi’re not in again, like the last time?”— Exchange.

A Withering Retort.

A group of gentlemen at the Carlton were pleasantly discussing the failings of a well-known minor politician who was gathered to his fathers. One of them, who during the deceased’s lifetime had apparently been his intimate friend, particularly distingu shed himself by the searching nature of his criticisms on the less pleasing qualities of the. departed. Just as he was concluding his remarks, Mr. Disraeli joined the group, and was at on9© deferentially asked by the post-mortem depreciator whether he (Mr. Disraeli) did not take the speaker’s rather unpleasing view of the defunct politician. “But,” objected Mr. Disraeli, "I always understood that you were a great ally of the gentleman we have lost.” “Oh, dear me, no,” said the depreciator, “only an acquaintance, I assure you.” “Ah,” said the Prime Minister, smiling, “I had thought the contrary. But though I did not observe all the failings in the late Mr. which you have just kindly enumerated, yet I agree with you so far as to acknowledge that I constantly found him guilty of one particular sin.” “Indeed,” said the depreciator, delighted, “and what was that, may I ask?” “A sin, sir,” replied Mr. Disraeli, “of which nobody can accuse you—sin-cerity.”— English Paper.

A New Use of the Phonograph.

While the phonograph has been justly regarded as a marvel, it has so far proved a mere scientific toy; but linguists have just discovered a use for it by employing it in recording sounds and dialeots of barbarous tribes so as to throw light upon the origin and growth of langunges. It will be remembered that the phonograph records with precision the actual utterances of the person who talks into it. The metal coil on which the impression is made can be kept a thousand years, and will then reproduce accurately the original speaker’s words and peculiarities. What interest it would create if we could reproduce with absolute precision the spoken words of Demosthenes, Cicero, the apostles, and all the great men and women of the past. Yet our descendants thousands of years from now will be able to hear an exact reproduction of the speech of the noted men and women of tais generation.—Bernorest’s Monthly.