Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 June 1891 — Page 6

MEMORIAL DAY.

tingle all over the Union. The first bloodshed in the streets of Baltimore quickened the patriotic pulse of the nation, and inspired the grand uprising of •the North. The first call for _ 75,000 'troops that followed the evacuation of •Sumpter,” and the alarming Confederate ■cry of “On to Washington” that moved President Lincoln to a second call for 83,000 troops, indicated to the world that the greatest conflict of modern times was imminent. The battle of Bull Run •and the defeat of the Union forces *added -much to' the enthusiasm of the Confederates and the belief in their military prowess. Disheartening as its’ tf-esu't was to the Pederals, it iiredthe .Northern circle with fre-li fuel for the ■cause of- liberty The results of the campaigns of 1802 in the region of Virginia were not encouraging, hut along the Atlantic coast lino and the Mississippi, Kentucky, Tennessee and Mis'alssippUFederal arms had been crowned with many ’successes. The war was n being- waged on an enormous scale;" of thousands of men were in tho field; both sides had long -since discovered that secession was no 'trifling matter. The tide of b’attle, tho trod waves of war surged over tho South for five long years; it detloured her youth, it freed her slaves, her cause was lost, but tho flag of the Union was sustained, and the integrity of tho'sister? /hood of States preserved at frightful ‘cost of human life and suffering. Thousands of the brave boys w ho" marched '•way under tho flaunting flags to the music of war returned not from the (bloody fields of battle in the Southland Every home felt the stress of suffering; while 'the enthusiasm of victory filled every loyal breast, the death-rolls were depressing. Fathers, brothers, lovers had passed away; the widows,'The sisters and the sweethearts were loft to walk -alone and in the shadow. Years have'

’•passed, the children of war-time have .frown to manhood and womanhood, but -the green graves of the soldiers are a perpetual reminder of the men who gave .their lives that the Nation might live. Long before 1 the war had ended the -soldiers’ graves became marked ob'ects es interest from the famous cities of the dead to the little groups in the hamlet, ®r the single ones on the lonely farm, °«nd had been decorated with flowers at each returning spring. The observance ■hf decorating the soldiers’ graves came <*s a patriotic impulse, and while it did -«ot have immediate authoritative recognition as a national ceremony, it was -carried on with patriotic •bowed how nearly it touched the great heart of the people. IThe second national encampment of <the Grand Army of the Republic met in Philadelphia on Jan. 15, 1868. The order •had gained amazing strength in the meantime, and the roster showed the ■existence of 2,5C0 posts, with a memberchip believed to exceed 250,000 of the best men of the war. General John A. Logan was elected Commander-in-chief, and to that gallant and typical volunteer soldier belongs the honor of issuing the first order for the observance of Memorial Day. To whom *the credit should be given of originally the beautiful ceremony of decorating the graves of dead comrades is not fully settled. It is thought, however, that the first suggestion came from ,m former private of the army, who addressed a letter on the subject to Col. N. iP. Chipman, General Logan’s adjutant •general. The letter came from Cipcin‘•att. 'and the writer, a native of Geronany, spoke of the custom prevailing in ■the fatherland of assembling in the 4pring-time and scattering flowers upon 'the graves of the dead. He advised that ■the Grand Army inaugurate such an observance in memory of their dead. It Is much to be regretted that Adjutant General Chipman failed to preserve the •Istier and was unable to remember the

HEN the cadets at Charleston fired tho first gun on fated Sumter early ou that beautiful April morning in 18(31, its roverber a t i n% echoes sent a

The nation's dead are buried in seven-ty-three national cemeteries, only twelve of which are in the Northern States. Tho principal ones in tho North are Cypress Hill, with its 3,78(3 dead; Finn’s Point, N. J., with 2,(544 unknown dead; Gettysburg, Pa., with 1,967 % kn0wn and 17(308 unknown dead; Mound City, 111., with 2,505 known and 2,721 unknown graves; .and 'Woodlawn, Elmira, N. Y., with its 3,900 dead. In'the South, near the scenes of the fearful conflicts, are located the largest resting places of the nation's heroic dead. Arlington, Va., 1(3,264, of which 4,311) are unknown; Chalmette, La., 12:511, of'twhich 5,674 are unknown ; Chattanooga, Tcnn., 12,982, of which 4,963 are unknown; Fredericksburg, Va., 15,257. oi which 12,770 are unknown; Jefferson Barracks, Mo, 11,490, of which 2,900 are unknown; Little Rock, Ark., 5,602, of which 2,317 are unknown; City Point, Va., 5,122, of which 1,374 are unknown;

Marietta, Ga., 10,151, of which 2,693 are unknown; Memphis. Tenn., 13,997, of which 8,817 are unknown; Nashville, Tenn., 16,526, of whlch p 4,700 are unknown; Poplar Grove, Va., 6,190, of which 4,031 are unknown; Richmond, Va., 6,542, of which 5,700 are unknown; Salisbury, N. C., of which 12,032 are unknown; Stone River, Tenn., 5,602, of which 288 are unknown; Vicksburg, Miss., 16,600, of which 12,704 are unknown; Antietam, Md., 4,671, of which 1,818 are unknown; Winchester, Va., 4,559, of which 3,365 are unknown. The dust of 300.000 men who iought for the Union find guarded graves in our national cemeteries. Two cemeteries* are devoted to the heroic souls who passed’ away in the prison pens, those festering fields of death of the same name. Andersonville, Ga , harbors 13,741, and Salisbury, N. C., 12,126. Of the Grand Army whoso legions are dust 275,000 slfcep in the blood-stained ground of the sunny South, and 145,000 of them fill unknown graves. The total Confederate loss will never be known," but estimates place it at 220,003, out of the 1,000,000 men enlisted in the Southern service. They fought the war on the defensive" plan, and were acclimated, which gave enormous advantages.

To God, thy country and thy friend be true. — Vaugfran. I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country .—lfhthan Hale. The air is full of farewells to the dying and mourning for the dead.—-Lonsr-fellow. Whether in chains or in laurels, liberty knows nothing but victory.— Wendell Phillips. Where society is powerless to create government, government must create society. —TalleyrawL Prince Von Bismarck wrote to Von Sehleinitz: “Napoleon healed through fire and iron the sick nation. *

writer’s name. General Logan, however, warmly approved of the suggestion and issued the now famous general order to the Grand Army of the Republic commanding that the day be properly observed.

I’m Not Here for Fan.

I was wandering up, one of the principal streets of Indianapolis one Decoration Day when I met a rugged old farmer from the interior who seemed to have lost his way. As he wandered aimlessly along I approached him, and asked: “Do you enjoy tho exercises of the day?” “Wall, so-so,” ho answered; “but I ain't hero for fun. 1 come up to go to the buryin’ ground up there on the hill. My jt?oy’s buried up there. Ho was in the

tho army, you know. He had to lie about his age to get in, but tho angels 11 forgive that one lie. Lord, how he* did; fight! I’vehearnthe | other soldiers xell' about it. Wall, ho! went Into the battle' of the Wiidcuess and got wounded awful. They telegraphed 1o me, an’ I went right down.* Ho wanted to bo took home, an’ I fetched him. On the

way up ho grew worse, an’ ho said to me if ho could only live to get home an’ seo his ma, he wou d bo satisfied. Ha kep’ getting weaker, an’ weakor, but ha held on till I got him home. His ma tried to nu'se him back to life, but ha Ivop’ on running down. Ho called mo up to liis bed ouo night ’bout sundown, an’ said, sez ho: ‘Pa, I wanter be buried up in town’(meanin’ hero in Ingianoplis), ‘an’ I want you to keep my grave green.’" Here the eld farmer wiped the tears from his cheeks with his big brown hand, and then brought it down on my.shoulder in a determined manner, and exclaimed. “Ah, mister. I’m a-goin’to keep that grave green if I have to’ paint it!” — J. Whitcomb Riley.

The Nation's Dead.

Sentiments for the Day.

CRADLE OF MORMONISM.

The Original “Zion" Where, the Foundation of the Saints Was Laid. The old Mormon temple, which has looked down from its commanding height for nearly sixty years upon Kirtland, one of the quaintest and most historical villages in Northern Ohio, will not be carted away to form one of the attractions at the World’s Fair, as has been proposed, if the people of the Buckeye town are not altogether powerless in the matter. It is a landmark they will not willingly part with, although but a few of them have anything in common with the strange people who built it. The temple is a great point of attraction. It stands on a high hill a little to the west of the liver, and is built of stone. It is about eighty feet long and sixty broad. The walls are fifty feet high and are of a yellowish tinge. On the front of the building one sees this inscription: “House of the Lord, Built by the Church of Christ in 1834.” The interior of the teiqple is unlike that of any ofher place of worship in the country, and probably its like has no existence outside of Mormon cities. Leading from the vestibule are two doors that open into separate aisles, one for the men and the other for the women. Two Latin inscriptions are still plainly visible, but these attract less attention than the odd arrangement of pews. At either end of the assembly room is a pulpit, built up in four tiers, where the twelve priests sat. On the front of the pulpit are letters denoting

THE FIRST MORMON TEMPLE.

the titles of the high priests. The second story is practically a repetition of the first, and above this is the old Morinan school loom. Here are to be seen the very blackboards upon which Prophet Smith is said to have traced letters for the children of new converts. It is proper to state, however, that no writing of the prophet’s is now visible. The teipple tower rises far above the massive walls, and is visible for miles around in all directions. From the shapely dome a magnificent view of a grand country is obtained. Farm bouses to the west, south and east appear in numbers, while to the north Lake Erie stretches in vast expanse to the hoiizon. It is yet early, spring in this section of the country, but already the white sails, some scarcely visible from the dome of the temple, show that lake commerce has begun. The Latter Day Saints are confident that Ivirtland will again become the Zion it was a half century ago. The ground upon which the temple stands is to them as holy as earth ever gets to be, even in the eyes of people of stranger belief. It is still in the hands of the Mormon church, or rather in the hands of a descendant of Joseph Smith.- It is emphatically a product of the “first Zion,” for the very stones in the walls, the timbers and the shingles, were obtained in Kirtland. Mormon converts quarried the rock from the ledge along the river, and Mormon hands hewed the timber and mixed the mortal' that went into the building.

A Remarkable Showing.

At the present moment the Salvation Army has no less than 9,349 regular officers, 13,000 voluntary officers, 30 training homes, with 400 cadets, and 2,8(54 corps scattered over 32 different countries. In England alone it has 1,377 corps, and has held some 100,000 open-air meetings. This represents a part of its religious work. Besides this it has in social work 30 rescue homes, 5 shelters, 3 food depots, arid many other agencies for good. It began in the labors of a siDgle friendless dissenting minister, without name, without fame, without rank, without influence, without eloquence; a man poor and penniless, in weak health, burdened with delicate children, and disowned by his own connection; it now numbers multitudes of earnest evangelists. It began in an East End rookery, and in less than twenty years it has gone “from New Zealand right round to San Francisco, and from Cape Town to Nordkoping.” It has shelters, refuges, penitentiaries, food depots, sisterhoods, and brotherhoods already established in the slums. It has elevated thousands of degraded lives. It has given'hope and help to myriads of hopeless and helpless outcasts. It has proposed a scheme which, in spite of square miles of damp blanket and oceans of cold water, has received the sympathy of some of the best and highest men both in church and state. I think that even the bitterest, the most unjust, the most cynical, and the most finical of the laymen and clerics who have written to traduce and execrate it might wish to God that in the life work of any one of them they had done one-thousandth fraction of good comparable in any one visible direction to that which has been wrought by “General” Booth.— Harper’s Magazine.

Wandering Jews.

From the time of Abraham to the present, the migratory instinct has been strong among Jews. Mesopotamia, Canaan, Egypt. Canaan once more, Assyria, Babylonia, Persia, Canaan a third time, and then the whole world, is the route of migration, the itinerary, as it were, of the Hebrew race. The Jews ate indeed the “tribe of the wandering foot.” The existence of Jews in onc-of the-way corners of the earth—the and Beai-

Israel and the Cochin Jews—is only accounted for by their wandering instincts. No doubt that instinct has been strengthened by persecution, b itnow when peace prevails, the Jew still retains his fondness for traveling.

BASE-BALL CURVES.

A Device for Olivine the Ball an Effective Curve. The “delivery* 1 of a base-ball so that the batsman shall be deceived into

“striking out” lias been made the subject of much study by expert pi'chers, and a device is here illustrated for giving to the ball the “curve” which is especially effective. It consists of an elastic strap having a thumb loop at one end and connected at its opposite end to a segment of a sphere, the latter being shaped to receive a section of %ke ball.

A Boy Life Saver.

Tennis F. McCarthy, a sixteen-year-old Brookline lad, performed an act the other day which not oirly displayed courage but a rare presence of mind in saving the life of a two-year-old child of Joseph Cariere, says the Boston Herat . Young McCarthy was at work repairing the roof of his father’s barn off Boylston street, which abuts on the village brook. A platform leads from Mr. McCarthy’s house to the top of the barn. The child walked along this platform to the roof, and before he was noticed fell into the brook, a distance of about twenty feet. The water was about three feet deep, and the current was quite strong. The child’s cries attracted McCarthy’s attention, and, realizing the situation, he jumped from the building to the Boston aud Albany llailroad track. In order to save the child’s life he had to act promptly, for the arch, where the brook enters the tunnel, was only 100 yards away. McCarthv ran down the track and reached the culvert just in time to jump into the brook and grasp the little one, who was being carried along to certain death. By this time a large crowd had collected, and every one was loud in the praise of McCarthy’s courage and presence of mind.

Heard Elephants’ Ea r s Flap.

I lately made two shooting trips to tho_ jungles of lower Burmah, and each time in the midst of the greatest hardships. The forest scenery had the power to force itself upon the notice as seeming each day more and more impressive and magnificent, At^ such times both the silence and the strange rounds of the jungles, each in their different way, combine to affect tlie sjortsman; the occasional weird hootings of the monkeys in the treetops: the distant flap, flap of an elephant’s ears breaking in upon the periect stillness as you approach the herd, or perhaps, instead, the penuy-trumpet-like squeak which announces its proximity; and, a* the day wears on, the stillness is suddenly broken in upon by the whirring and soon almost deafening sound with which with one accord the insects revive after the heat of the afternoon. All these influences combine to produce an effect which those who have not experienced them will find difficult to imagine, and those who have experienced them must find hard to describe.

The Con[?]ederacy’s Vice President.

Alexander H. Stephens made the following prophetic utterance at Savannah, Ga.j ‘March 21, 186 J: “We are a young republic just entering upon the arena of nations: we will be the architects of ou:r own fortunes. Our destiny, under Providence, is in our own bands. With wisdom, prudence and statesmanship on the part of our public men, and. intelligence, virtue and patriotism on the- part of the people, success to the full measure of our most sanguine hopes may be looked for. But if unwise counsels prevail, if wo become divided, if schisms arise, if dissensions spring up. if factions are engendered, if party spirit, nourished by unholy personal ambition, shall rear its hydra head, I have no good to prophesy for you. Without intelligence, virtue, integrity and patriotism, on the part of the people, no republic or representative government can be durable or staple. ”■

Force of Habit.

Embarrassed youDg man (to> father of his adored) —I have come, Mr. Greement, to ask you for the baud of Miss Amy. Mr. Greement (proprietor of collection agency)—l have no objection, George. I think it will be all right. (Absent-mindedly)—You are prepared, of course, to make the regular cash deposit of $25 ?

Tales of Two Cities.

Omaha Man (proudly)—“Thousands of Nebraska cflws have to be milked twice a day to supply Omaha alone.” Chicago Man (loftily)—“Pooh! Thousands of Illinois cows have to be milked four times a day to supply Chicago. ” New York Weekly.

Which She Is Pretty Certain to Do.

When a woman wills, she will, and when she says she won’t, she won’t —unless she changes her mind.—Sommerville Journal. ’ ! * A little girl was sitting on the floor when the sun shone in her face. “Go ’way,” she cried, striking out at it. “You move, dear, and it won’t trouble yon.” “Isant. I dot here first,” said the little one. The Yale Museum has just received a skeleton of a saurian, a prehistoric monster of which but two complete skeletons are known.

IN MEMORY OF FALLEN BRAVES

BY SOL R. SMITH.

Bring flowers, sweet flowers, the fresh and fair; They.fiave'blossomed to shed their fragrance there. Bring hither garlands of sweet perfumes; They arp offerings meet for each herotomb. e Then come with your tributes of sweet spring flowers. And wreath them over these graves of ours, For every heart hojds a thought for you. Of some soldier who sleeps In his suit of blue.

Come, mothers, for you have a soldier-boy here! Come, maid, to the grave of the love who , was dear! Come, s'ster, and bend at the grave of the brother! For dear In life did you love one another. Come, wife of the soldier, so gallant and brave, ff With the laurel and ivy to twine on his grave. Come.*children, your father and brother sleeps here; Bring flowers lor them—the sweet aud the fair. Bring flowers, sweet flowers, oer the bier to shed.« A crown for the brow of the early dead; For thus througlr its leaves hath the white rose burst, % For thus in the woods was the violet nursed; No holler offering our hand can place there Thau the tribute of flowers and song, aud the tear That falls for the brave boys who fought In the blue, And who sleep ’ueath the flowers we this day strew. Bring flowers! yes, pluck them from every hill side, And twine-forthe heroes who nobly have died! Come, then, where they rest, and tread lightly around. For the grave of the hero la on holy ground. Come, then, with love’s tribute, these dear graves aro ours, For the soldier ‘'heroes” bring beautiful flowers! And strew them on the mound where'er they sleep. While the angels from above their vigils keep.

THE DEAD HEROES.

Kobert G. inger-oll’s Famous Speech at Indianapolis. The past, as it were, rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sound of preparation—the music of boisterous drums—the silver voices of heroic bugles- Wo see thousands of assemblages and hear the appeals of orators; we see the pale cheeks of women and the flushed faces of men; and in these assemblages we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. W’e lose sight of them no more. W’e are with them when they enlist in the great army of freedom. We see them part with those they love. Some are walking for the last time in quiet woody ,places with the maidens they adore. W’e hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of eternal love as they lingeringly part forever. Others are bending over cradles kissing^babes that are asleep. Some are receiving the blessings of old men. Some are parting with mothers who hold them and press them to their hearts again and again, and say nothing; and. some are talking with wives and endeavoring, with brave words spoken in bold tones, tojdrive away the awful fear. We see them part. We see the wife standing in the door with the babe in her arms—standing in tho suniight sobbing. At the turn of the road a hand waves. She answers by holding high fn her loving hands tho child. He is gone, and forever.

We see them all as they march proudly away under the flaunting flags, keeping time to the grand wild music of war; marching down the streets of the great cities, through the towns and across the prairies; down to the fields of glory, to do and to die for the eternal right. We go with them one and all; we a-e by their side on all the gory fields, in all the hospitals of pain, in all the weary marches. We stand guard with them in the wild storm and under the quiet stars. Wo are with them in the ravines running with blood —in the furrows of old fields. We are with them between contending hosts, mihble to move, wild with thirst, the life-ebbing slowly away among the withered,leaves. We see them pierced by balls aM tbf'h' with” Shells ■'ln the trenches-of the ferts, and in the whirlwind oi the Charge, where men became iron with ne-ryes of steel, 'We are With them in the prisons of hatred aind famine, but human speech can never tell what'they endured. We are tU home when ’tfie m-ws'tttmes that they are dead. We see the-maiden in the shadow of her sorrow. We i-ee the silver head of the old man bowed with grief. The past rises before us and we see 4,000,000 human beings governed by the l'ash—we see -them bound hand and foot hear tho strokes of the cruel whip —we see the hounds tracking women through tangled swamps—we see the babes so’d from the breasts of' mothers. Cruelty unspeakable;*outrage infinite! Four million bodies in chains—4,ooo,ooo souls in fetters—all the sar-red relations of wife,' mother, father, and child trampled beneath the brutal feet of might—and all this done under our own beautiful banner of the free. The past ©rises before us. We hear the roar and shriek of the bursting shell. The broken fetters fall. Their heroes died. We look, and instead of slaves we see men, women, and children. The wand of progress touches the auction block, the slave pen, and the whipping post, and we see homes and, firesides, schoolhouses and books, and where all was ,want and crime and cruelty and fear, wo see the faces of the free. Those heroes aro dead. They died for liberty; they died for us. They are at rest. They sleep in tho land they made free, under the flag they rendered stainless, under the solemn pines, the sad hemlock, tbe tearful willows, the embracing vines. They sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, careless alike of sunshine or stonn, each in the windowless palace of rest. Earth may run red with other wars—they are at peace. In the midst of battle, in the roar of conflict they found the serenity of death. I have one sentiment for tho soldiers living and dead —cheers for the living, tears for the dead.

Ten Thousan I Tramps.

Queens County, Nbw York, allows thirty cents a night for each tramp lodged and -fed at the town hall, the money to be divided as follows: Ten cents to the town for lodging, five cent* to the ove/seer of the poor for recording the names, and fifteen cents to the janitor for furnishing the meals. It is now demonstrated that 10,000 tramps have teen lodged and fed in the town hall at Jamaica during the past ten months, an average of over thirty per night, What a snap Cor the tramps!

HUMOR.

Arranging for a Speedy Trip. Lecturer (to hackm&n) —Now you’re Bure your horses are in good condition? Hackman—Oh, yes, sir! Trust me for that. “It’s only proper for von to 4cnow that when I get through r my lecture I like to leave the hall in a hurry.” “What time shall I expect you, sir?” “Urn; ah—well—that will depend a good deal on the audience.”— Texas Siftings. Yankee Ingenuity. Spindle—Why do yon put such horribly perfumed stuff on your hair? It’s enough to knock any one over. Brindle—To keep from catching cold. “Huh! What good does that stuff do ?” “It has become the style now for gentlemen to remove their hats in all sorts of draughty places when there happen to be ladie3 present; but when I take off mine they always beg me to put it on again, so as not to take cold.” “Hum! How much is it a bottle? ” Street & Smith's Good News. Double Weight. Bullfinch—l asked for a pound of dried apples. Grocer—l know it. Bulfinch—-" Well, I don’t believe there’s a quarter of a pound here. Grocer—You don’t seem to understand about dried apples. When you come to put t hose in the water you will find I have given you double weight. Ketribution. Plumber—You’re one of those chaps that are always writing smart things about the size of plumbers’ bills, ain’t you? Squibbler—Why, I Plumber—l thought so. The bill for this job, sir, will be $324.65. Will Be Decided Eater. Mr. Maesnitor (to the fair one's sister)—“And how old are you, Flossie?” Flossie —“Oh, that hasn’t been decided yet.” “Not decided yet ?” “No; ma says itTI be time enough when Kate has landed you.”— Wave. Too Inquisitive. Wif®—“Such a dream as I had last night, dear!” Husband)—“May I hear about it ?" “Well—yes. I dreamed that I was in a great establishment where they sold husbands. There were beauties—some in glass cases and marked at fearful prices, and others were sold' at less figures. Girls were paying out fortunes and getting the handsomest men I ever saw. It was wonderful.” “Did you see anv like me there, dear?” “Yes. Just as I was leaving I saw a whole lot like you, lying on. the remnant counter.”— Pittsburg Bulletin.

That’s Different. Irene (taking a walk with her friend) —Laura, look! Who is that handsome gentleman on the other side of the street ? Miss Kajones (looking straight ahead)—l wouldn’t turn my head on the street to see the handsomest gentleman that ever drew breath. Aon ought to have more dignity. (A minute or two later, having met and passed an acquaintance)—Doesn’t Mollie Glizzard’s cloak fit horribly in the hack ? He Would Have Watered It. “That ain’t Jay Gould,” said a rawboned Kentuckian the other day as he saw the magnate through the car window at a small station siding. “’Tis, too,” contended his wife. “ ’Tain’t nuther, I tell von,” persisted the man, “caze I seen him take a drink of straight liquor.” “What’s that got to do with it?” argued the wornan. “Everything. Est ed been Jay Gould, he’d a put water in it, shore. I’ve read all about the kind of a man Jay Gould is.” And he strutted up and down the platform like a rooster iu a stable lot.— lndianapolis Journal. Shu Wasn't Particular. An old lady in Belleville was-dyiDg of a lingering illness, and her pastor called upon her to administer religious consolation. After some general conversation the minister brought forth his Bible, and, suggesting that she might feel consoled by hearing a chapter read, asked her what part she would prefer. “Well. I don’t much care,” was the reply, “but that story about Samson setting fire to the foxes” tails- is about as funny as any.”— Albany Argus. Unfaslilo able Canines Mrs, De- Style—Have you any fashionable dogs? Honest dealer—l ana sorry to sav I sold the last about an hour ago. Mrs. De Style—You appear to have hundreds of beautiful dogs of all sorts and kinds left. Are none of them fashionable? Deal®*'—No, madam. All of these are good' for something.— Street <£- Smith’s Good News. APi »l>lem i m Addition. Miss Apabrosia Passee (gigglingly) Do you. know I reached mv birthday to-day? Well, now, how old do you think I am ? Mr. Dillidallv (gallantly)— Seventeen and a bit. Mr. Sillibilly—About twenty-three. Miss A. Passee—And, Mr. Haysede, what do you think ? Mr. Haysede—Wal, takin* it- all t’gether I guess the gentlemen is right. Did Not Know It Revolved.. Mrs. Hayseed—Say, Joshua, what’s that light out there ? Farmer Hayseed (at Boston)—That’s the Boston light. Mrs. Hayseed—Wall, those sailors must be purty patient. I’ve seed it go out more’n twenty times, and they light up agin ev’ry time. Lanced the Dictor. Crump —Doctor, I thought you gentlemen of pills and powders had given up the practice of bleeding patients. Dr. Senna —So we have. Crump—l thought there must be some mistake u> your bill. Of course you will correct it.