Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 May 1895 — Page 6

SHARE IN THE PROFIT

HOW NEGRO FARMERS TILL THE SOUTHERN SOIL Old Plantations Cat Up Into Small Parma, Each Worked by a Tenant Who Pays the Landlord a Portion of the Crops. Measured by Mules. Macon, Ga., correspondence: The tenant system in the cotton belt is unique. Before the war the agricultural sections of the State were divided into extensive plantations—3,ooo, 4,000, 5,000 and sometimes 10,000 acres, owned by one man, under a single management, and worked by gangs of slaves, male and female, directed by overseers, with a “field hand” for every thirty or forty acres, according to the wealth or the generosity of the master. Sometimes they would work fifty acres to a hand, but that was excessive cruelty, and such planters were universally condemned. That system meant 100 slaves for a 3,000-acre plantation, 150 or 160 for a 5,000-acre plantation, and 300 or 400 slaves for 10,000 acres. Nowadays much of the land is allowed to lie idle. The owner retains 200 or 300 acres around his residence

for his own use, and farms the rest of the place, or as much of it as he can, on shares; and the extent of its cultivation is usually governed by the character of the land and the character of the landlord. To a large extent the tenants to-day are the same men and women who lived upon the place as slaves; and they cultivate the same soil as freemen that they did in bondage, some of them being the better and others the worse for the change. And to a remarkable degree the same relations exist between the employer and the employed—the patriarchal system of communism and dependence which is often admirable, but sometimes degrading and oppressive. The uneducated negro is a thoroughly domestic animal, and when he once forms an attachment for a place it is difficult to drive him away. Sometimes the restless, wayward ones wander off from the old plantation and are gone for years, but they will invariably claim a residence there and usually come back sooner or later, and expect to be taken on and given work again. This rule applies only to those plantations where the people were well treated in slave times and since, and where the property has been retained by the same owners. Often when a place is sold, if the negroes do not like the appearance or the behavior of the purchaser, tlfey will evacuate in a bod.v and build cabiqs upon the land of some kindlier man in the neighborhood whom they know, or who may be related to their old master. When the ties of personal attachment ■re cut it does not take them long to move. A couple of men can build a cabin in three or four days with no tools but an ax to hew and trim the wood and a trowel to handle the mortar in building the chimney. It was also the rule for plantations upon which there were hard masters to be entirely abandoned during the war, and when emancipation came, and many of them have never been depopulated. There are many farms in the South upon which po negro is willing to work for any wages or under any conditions. Those farms were the scenes of cruelties during slavery and are cursed—tabooed forever. And there are certain men who can never hire negro labor. If a negro should consent to work for them he would be boycotted by his race; he would be turned out of the church and ostracized in every way. . The prejudices and the vindictiveness of the colored people are as deepo » IS*

A PRIMITIVE COTTON PRESS.

rooted as their attachments and their loyalty. But after emancipation a large majority of the slave population in the cotton belt remained in the old cabins or built new ones upon the old plantation, and. their children are now working the lands their fathers and grandfathers tilled, receiving a share of the crop for their labor, or rather, in the way they are pleased to consider it, paying a share of their harvest to the landlord annually for ground rent. Some of the frugal and industrious ones have purchased little farms from their

old misters an<f are constantly adding to their real estate. Some have shown such ability and sagacity that they now own the property on which they worked as slaves—the entire plantation—and now and U»en you hear of an instance where one of these fortunate freemen has given financial aid or a hbtae to his old master er nflstreks or some member of their family wteo ate not too proud to accept charity fronftheir former chattels. i have been told of a colored planter in

the southern part of this State who maintains his former master and mistress in their old mansion just as they lived, although perhaps not so luxuriously, when he was thelr 'slare, while he resides in a more modest structure on another part of the place. They are childless and feebleminded, and one of their delusions, which he permits them to enjoy and impose upon their friends, is that they still own the old plantation, and that he is their overseer or agent tn charge. Farms are not rented by acres and very rarely for cash, and there is seldom any lease or contract or memorandum. Between white and black men such papers are unknown. The unwritten laws of leasehold are the same all over this section, and have been unchanged since the war. Business follows a universal custom and is conducted entirely upon faith and the knowledge of the habits of men. There are one-mule farms and two-mule farms and four-mule farms. Area is not measured by acres nor by the labor of men, but by the number of mules employed. A negro rents from his old master or his landlord as much land as he can cultivate with one mule, and the annual rental is one bale of cotton. If he has two mules he takes as much land as he can cultivate with them, and the rental is two bales of cotton, and so on. A one-mule farm is usually about forty acres, and a twomule farm from eighty to a hundred acres.

A GEORGIA COTTON GIN.

A man can cultivate more than twice as much land with two mules as with one, because he has two or three “hands” to help him, and their combined effort can accomplish more than if they are working independently. Men, women, boys and girls work in the fields together, aud they plow also with steers, cows and heifers; but in estimating the rental nothing but a mule or a horse counts. In addition to the land the tenant receives credit from his landlord, or from some supply store upon the latter’s indorsement, to the extent of $4 a month, or S4B a year, for every mule he works. That buys his seed, his fertilizer, his implements and tools and necessaries of life, such as sugar, tea, coffee and tobacco for his family. The rest of his food he is supposed to raise himself, and he

wants little more than cornmeal, bacon, eggs, chickens and the vegetables of his garden. At the end of the season all the crop is taken to the gin house—there is one upon almost every plantation—where, after the cotton is ginned, the landlord first takes out enough to settle the store account and his own bale or bales for rental. Then the tenant has what is left to dispose of as he pleases. It may be five bales or two or half a bale, or there may be nothing whatever coming to him for the whole season’s labor. With a good crop he ought to harvest from six to ten bales on a one-mule farm, with an ordinary crop from four to six, but sometimes there is a failure and he finds himself in debt both to his landlord and at the store. But if there is any cotton the landlord gets it. A bale of cotton averages 500 pounds and the price at the gin house varies from 5 to 7 cents a pound. Usually the colored tenant lets his cotton go with the rest, and receives his pay when the landlord sells his own. It may be in the winter, or perhaps in the spring; but it is a matter of faith. Sometimes he sells out to his landlord at current rates as soon as the cotton is weighed, and sometimes he hauls his bales to town one after another and gets what he can for them. All the family usually go to town together when the cotton money is due and units in the pleasure of its disbursement. They do not expect or intend to save anything. They will not go home as long as a penny remains. The old woman and the girls want new dresses, shoes, hats and bright ribbons. The old man wants cloth for some new shirts or a pair of shoes. He seldom buys a hat or a coat. He gets those garments from his old master or his landlord, and as they are worn on Sundays and holidays only they last for years. When the necessaries are purchased.

A LOAD OF GEORGIA PRODUCE.

and they are very few, the esthetic fancies of the family run riot. Confectionery and cologne are bought first. They may properly be included with the necessaries of life. Then they invest in tinsel jewelry and bright-colored fans, photograph albums, for which they have no photographs; books, with showy bindings’ which they cannot read; clocks, from which they cannot tell the time, and piaster images, pillow shams, embroidered counterpanes and fancy table cloths;

bright-colored pictures in gilt or silver frames and every variety of article that please the eye and the palate. Then, when the cotton money is expended, the entire resources of the family are exhausted, and the remainder of the year they live upon credit or upon little things they

can sell. Perhaps the old man will cut a load of wood and trade it for dry goods or groceries, or the old woman will save up her eggs and chickens and take them to town, but such sources of supply are meager and unreliable.

We handy men who can do carpentering, painting and all manner of work are often asked to take suspicious and unpleasant jobs, said a handy man. I believe that shady people think wo live from hand to mouth, and are ready for any queer job. Not long since a very gentlemanly sort of man called on me with drawings and asked me to make a sort of telescopic ladder, which he said was for a fire-escape. I happened to mention the matter to an expert t,hief-catcher, a detective of Bow street, and sure enough, my customer was a burglar and ex-conviet. He was arrested on another charge. As for the tradesmen who wanted to steal from the gas companies, they have often offered me jobs in a careful sort of way. I have made several secret panels in offices; and I made one not a year ago for an employer of labor who can now both hear all the words and see all the actions of a dozen clerks. One of the last jobs I had was to knock a door out from one house into another, and then to cover over with very dark' paper the door on both sides so that the pattern exactly fitted. I did not ask questions—l had no grounds for doing so—but I am pretty certain that one of the houses was a gambling place, and that some article of furniture would be placed against the door on each side. You see, we get a lot of our business by mixing about at public

A GEORGIA FAMILY AT HOME.

bouses, and so on—and that is why we meet strange customers.

Making silhouettes of the faces of prominent men has become quite a fad in France. Below are given a few which may be produced after little practice:

MR. GLADSTONE. BISMARCK.

A practical innovation has been Introduced in a Berlin restaurant, where the clothes hooks are arranged in such a way that, after hanging a coat on them, they can be locked by means of a snap lock in the upper hook or hat rack. Regular guests receive a key, while transient guests have to ask the waiter to return to them their overcoats. Since the Introduction of this patent hook not an overcoat has been stolen in the place, while previous to that time considerable trouble arose both to the proprietor and guests because of sneak thieves. The new hook is very simple; the lowest part of It is on a hinge, and the lock is attached to the upper arm, being out of harm’s way.

Fish ought to be very plentiful and cheap, and most of them grow and increase without any care from man. It is said that each flounder, for instance, produces many millions of eggs. The sole produces 1,000,000 of eggs, a plaice not less than 3,000,000, while a large turbot has been credited with die deposition of II.OOOjOOO or 12,000,000 eggs.

Every one who has been seasick will appreciate this request of a child: A passenger on board of a steamer from Sydney to Melbourne overheard a seasick little four-year-old girl say to her mother: “O, mamma, please, do let ihe ship walk.” ■ ——« A man isn’t made manager of a; railroad or president of a bank because he dan dance the german.

A COTTOS PICKER.

A Handy Man’s Queer Jobs.

Shadow Pictures.

GAMBETTA. CZAR ALEXANDER III.

LORD SALISBURY. M. THIERS.

Coat Thieves Baffled.

Fish.

“Let the Ship Walk.”

GERMANY AND CREMATION.

The Crematory in Gotha the Only One in the Empire. In Germany the authorities and the church both refuse to countenance the establishment of a crematory or to allow the friends of cremation to place urns with the ashes of their dead in any part of the cemeteries. Hence the fact that the crematory in Gotha has remained the only one in Germany to this day. It is but a few weeks ago that a Mecklenburg pastor, having delivered a funeral oration over the body of a Mecklenburg leader in liberal thought, the delegate to the Reichstag, Witte, preparatory to the incineration of the remains, was tried by the Lutheran consistory of that grand duchy and deprived of his clerical honors and functions.

The furnace at Gotha was ready in 1876, and in the spring of 1878 building operations began, after plans furnished by Dr. Reclam, on a new cemetery in Ostfelde, a suburb of Gotha. Meanwhile one of the members of the cremation society died, a civil engineer named Stier, and as he had remained a firm believer in cremation until the last, his body was the first consigned to the flames in the crematory just finished. This was on Nov. 10,1878. Since then, until Jan. 15, this year, 1,278 bodies have been cremated in Gotha. This is by far the largest number of any crematory in the world, the one in Long Island showing a list of less than 100, and the one in Western Penn-

TRANSFERRING COFFIN INTO ORATE.

sylvania but about 250, when last.heard from. Next to Gotha it is Milan whose crematory is put most largely to use. Women there were but 117 out of the total 1,278—a proof that woman, even in death, keeps her dread of fire. The crematory proper lies below the ground and thirty steps lead to it. There is a furnace in which the gas necessary for incinerating is generated. Adjoining is the small chamber, built of brick, in which the coffin, with the body, rests on a grate. There is a pipe conducting the gas into the crematory and a regulating apparatus permits the increasing or the decreasing of the rate at whicli the corpse is reduced to ashes. The usual time required for the purpose is hours.

EXHORTIN’ DOWN IN GEORGIA

Colored Preachers Description of the Trip to the Land of Promise. Straying into a darky church in the “low country” of Georgia, says a writer in the New York Tribune, I happened upon a real “exhortin’,” which is a very different affair from an every-day “meetin’.” A toothless, white-haired old preacher had reached the red-hot stage of “his disco’se;” singing and swaying he was shouting out a protest against “de trials ob de present life, breddern,” and picturing with lusty roars the contrasting joys “ob de life ebberlastin’.” He used his text—which seemed to have nothing in common with his remarks—to fill up the waste places, ringing it in whenever he ended one thought and before he started on the devious paths of another. He segmed to use it on the same principle that a stuttering man swears or whistles, to launch himself successfully upon a sentence. “An’ blow ye de trumpet all aroun’ about de camp! What is you niggahs good fo’, anyhow, down in dis vale ob teahs? Yo’ ain’t no ’count in de persiderashun ob de white fo’ks, onless it’s de votin’ time in ie city! An’, breddern, takin’ in de sistern, don’ yo’ know dat down on de yearth yo’ ain’t got no holt nowhar longside ob de white fo’ks? Yo’ hyear a po’ ole niggah now, an’ yo’ know hits de turf he’s a tellin’ yer, an’ yo’ jes’ better done come dis day to de Lawd. When yo’ go to make a little jant on de railroad train, yo’ can’t go in de white fo’ks’ waitin’-room in de cyar-shed, an’ yo’ can’t go in de white fo’ks’ cyar on de train, yo’ done gotter go in de place fo’ de black fo’ks. In de schools yo’ can’t run up agin dem white fo’ks, yo’ mus’ allers stay wid de cullud peoples—(an’ a heap sight better comp’ny dey is, too!) Yo’ can’t eben go to de white fo’ks’ chu’ch to hear de word of de Lawd ob us all, onless yo’ set In de spesheral seats fo’ de cullud fo’ks” —voice very loud and sing-song here) — “but when we git a ready—for to lace up—dem a wings—bress-de-Lawd!—an’ to cross ober—dat Ribber Jordan—an’ go thu’ —them a pearly gates—into Canaan up there—we won’t find no black fo’ks’ waitin’-room! De gospel train’ll take us right into the presence of the great white frone. An’ de black man shall be dere, and de yaller man shall be dere an’—an’ de red man an’— an’ de blue man! an’ blow ye de trumpet all ’roun* ’bout de camp!”

DIED TO SAVE OTHERS.

A Chicago Dog and His Self-Sacri-ficing Act of Heroism. Jack, a Scotch terrier, saved several lives Monday morning, but he perished. He died the death of a self-sacri-ficing hero, and his master, John Camus, buried him with honors near the scene of his exploit The Camus family live in a two-story

THE DEAD HERO.

frame house. Jack’s bunk was in a corner of the kitchen. Sunday night a lamp was left burning on the kitchen table. While everyone in the house was asleep the lamp exploded. Burning oil was scattered in every direction and in a few moments the house was filled with smoke. “Jack’s” bark-

Ing did not seem to awaken anybody, so he ran upstairs. He jumped on his master’s bed and awakened Mr. Camus. who was partially overcome by smoke, but at once realized his danger. By that time the smoke had become so dense that it was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. Camus got his wife and children outdoors. In the excitement of the moment Jack was forgotten. It was supposed that he had got out, but, when the blaze had been extinguished, his scorched body was found near the kitchen door. He had been suffocated. Jack had been the p«i of the family several years. His master feels that, but for the dog’s remarkable intelligence. the family would have perished. —Chicago Tribune.

Why Opera Is Expensive.

People sometimes complain that the opera is expensive. Why should It not be? Paintings by Daubigny, Rousseau, Vibert, Cazin, Jean Beraud, Detti, etc., are expensive, because they are excellent, and the possessors of the techniquerequiredtoproduce them are few in number and know their own value. There are very few composers who are able to produce really great operas, and they must be well paid. Then how many vocal artists are there in the known world who are competent to interpret the music? Do we appreciate the enormous expenditure of time and effort, the long, laborious, uninterrupted training which the singers must go through with, before audiences will listen to them? This species of training, too, demands the sternest and most conscientious personal sacrifices. There must be often a Spartan regimen, great forfeitures of social pleasures, daily and unceasing study and practice, no matter at what cost of weariness, and often irksome labor. All this must be accomplished while the golden hours of youth are fleeting, and without the sure promise of ultimate success as an incentive. The attainment of renown as a singer is like the high prize in a lottery, and after all the aspirant may draw a blank. Even when fame is achieved, and in the great cities of both, hemispheres the brow of the singer is crowned with laurels, and opulent managers outbid each other in order to secure engagements, some unforeseen accident may atonce destroy the entire fabric of availability so carefully constructed, of genius, muscal skill and capacity, dramatic fervor, and conscientious devotion to art. Then the voice is silenced forever, and the singer lives only in memory, while the income stops. Even at the best the career of the vocalist is brief. The great lawyer or physician often touches his zenith at threescore, or perhaps threescore and ten; a Gladstone retires only from choice at 85; a Bismarck is never greater than in old age; but what of the singer when inexorable time attacks the vocal organs?—Mme. Melba, in Lippincott’s Monthly.

Century Breathing.

One hundred deep breaths before breakfast every morning is the very latest order of physical culture teachers to pupils who are flat-chested and scrawuey-necked. Anybody can try it, and it does work -wonders if religiously adhered to day in day out. For girls whose dresses require padding across the bust it is especially advised because a high chest produces much of the effect of very full development. As soon as you jump out of bed throw back the shoulders, stand in a correct position, hold the head straight, draw a deep, long breath and hold it just as long as you can. It will first raise and Inflate the chest, draw the portion of the body below the belt line, and distend the lower part of the throat, while the mere holding of the breath will exercise the unused muscles of the throat and increase the throat measure just as singing does. Take these deep breaths at first slowly in groups of five.’ The morning toilet can be performed without interrupting the century breathing exercise, so that no time is waisted. About the fiftieth deep breath try five rapid and deep inflations. By this means, even if you are not blessed with the desired flesh, you need not mourn for scrawny throats or flat chests. Also it will give you the prettiest nape of the neck, which is always a desirable possession.

An Antiquarian Banquet.

This unique and select feast was given more than twenty years ago at Brussels by a resident of that city, himself an antiquarian, says Harper’s Bazar. Only six guests were invited, one of them an American, from whom, as then published, is derived this brief account So dainty a bill of fare can never be repeated. There were apples grown more than 1,800 years ago, and for this modern entertainment taken from an earthen jar rescued from the ruins of Pompeii. Bread was offered made from wheat found in a chamber of one of the pyramids, and raised before the children of Israel passed through the Red Sea; butter, churned when Queen Bess occupied England’s throne-chair, was taken from an earthen crock found on a stone shelf, where for centuries it had been preserved in icy water in one of the wonderful deep wells of Scotland; and wine, “long mellowing through the lapse of years” in a secret vault in the city of Corinth, as far back, so it is affirmed, as the fifteenth century. At this unparalleled array of dainties each guest had a bit of bread, a sip if wine, of butter as much as desired, and the jar of canned apple was freely circulated.

A Church on Wheels.

The gospel “push-cart” is coming into use in Australia. It Is eight feet long, four feet wide, six feet high with the canvas top down, and eight feet high with it up. It is carpeted, has an organ, chairs, and, one side being let down, a platform is made for the speaker and the singers. It is a little portable chapel, lighted by electricity, oiid moved about by three men ar one horse. The small wheels behind act as a sort of rudder, by which it can be turned around the sharpest corner in the narrowest alley. “Excuse me, madame,” said the pay-ing-teller, “but you have not endorsed this check. If you will write your name on the back of it,' it will be all right” “Oh, of course,” said the little woman. “I had forgotten.” Then she endorsed the check: “Sincerely yours, Janette Hicksworthy.”—Harper’s Bazar. Wipe the picture off with a soft wet cloth, no soap, and then rub them gently with a raw potato. Potato does not remove the varnish: it simply cleansea.

MAN OF GREAT POWER.

Joseph B, Gree*h>at, Ex-President o 4 the Whisky Trust, Recent events In the financial world have brought Joseph B. Greenhut into a prominent, if not an enviable, posi-

tlon. A remarkable man in many ways is the ex-President and ex-recelver of the whisky trust. He barely missed being a great man, as greatness goes in Wall street At one time he seemed destined to become the successor of

J. B. GREENHUT.

Jay Gould in the boldness and daring of stock operations. A word or a nod from him made or lost fortunes for traders in whisky securities. .Always active, the stock was obedient to his dictates. When he talked of prosper* ity the quotations soared. When he told of lean earnings they tumbled. Intoxication with his power in the market finally made him dizzy, and at the critical moment traders with whose capital he had juggled for years combined and overthrew him. He is now about to be retired from the property he managed so ably at first, and finally so recklessly. Mr. Greenhut Is a Bohemian Jew. When a mere lad he came to America. His parents setled in Chicago. Few persons who knew him as a boy, when he attended a small Jewish school, would have ventured to predict a successful career for the lad. He was regarded as the blockhead of the school. He took one position in his classes and held it throughout his entire coarse. It was at the bottom. Nobody took enough interest in the stupid young fellow to inquire what became of him after he dropped from school. That was back in the fifties. Astonishment

ME. GREENHUT’S HOME IN PEORIA.

wasexpressed when reports came back from the war that Greenhut was at the front, fighting like a tiger. Those who thought they knew him never dreamed of his being stirred by patriotic impulses. Greenhut disappointed them. He was one of the bravest soldiers of the war. After the war. Mr. Greenhut returned to Chicago and got in the distilling business. The fortunes that others had made in the whisky business while he was fighting seemed to attract his attention. He operated a plant in Chicago for some time. Afterward he went to Pekin, continuing in the same business. Then he moved on to Peoria. He was one of the organizers of the trust After the death of Adolph Woolner, Mr. .Greenhut became the controlling spirit of the trust. He was the absolute dictator of its policy and its methods. The strength of the man was never, better illustrated than on those occasions when directors of the trust met in Peoria with their minds made up to check Greenhut’s autocratic ways and assert themselves. He dealt with tile board firmly. One of the directors recently said Mr. Greenhut seemed to hypnotize them. He got everything he wanted, and always ended by having things his own way. Mr. Greenhut’s home is one of the most hospitable and artistic in Peoria. His domestic life is exemplary. It Is said that he puts no limit whatever on the charitable work of Mrs. Greenhut. She gives away thousands of ils money every year, though in sucl} an unostentatious way that few know who the objects of her charity are. Touching stories are told in Peoria of her generosity.

Ten Cents Weekly for Pleasure.

Thrift is not an extinct trait in the original home of the thrifty, New England. A young woman writes to a Boston paper to tell how a family of three can live on $lO a week. “My mother,” she says, “is an invalid. My father is foreman in a factory and earns s2l a week, and I stay at home and do the work. Every week we put sl2 away. I dress well and can play the piano. I attend the theater twice a week, but the 25-cent seats are good enough for me. Saturday I cook a quart of beans and buy a loaf of brown bread and one-half pound of salmon, and that does until Tuesday. Tuesday a pint of oysters is sufficient for dinner. Wednesday I buy a chicken or a small piece of lamb, which does until Saturday with a little fish. We use a small quantity of pastry and bread and cake and vegetables. We run two fires, burn gas; we use matches and pepper. My father only spends 10 cents a week for pleasure. When my company stays to tea Sunday we have a few extras. I do all my dressmaking and average four dresses a year.”

Where They Drink No Cold Water.

The Chinese are hardly ever seen to drink cold water. Not that they drink it on the sly, but that they prefer it boiling hot and mixed with a little tea. There is a good and sufficient reason for this preference, for the cities, towns and villages in the Flowery Band are kept in such a dirty state that the wells, rivers and other sources of supply cannot escape being more or less spoiled. It is only fair to the “heathen Chinee” to add that, as a rule, he drinks little intoxicating liquor.

On Steamers.

A new self-recording indicator, marking mechanically every order signaled from the bridge of a steamer to the engine-room, consists of a drum, which revolves once in twelve hours, around which is placed a chart, containing a column for each word of command on the indicator in use, and ruled to show the fraction of a minute. When the order is given, it is marked at one on the chart The instrument does away with the possibility of conflicting evidence between the captain and engineer in case of accidents.

HUMOR OF THE WEEK

STORIES TOLD BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Odd, Curious and Laughable Phases of Human Nature Graphically Portrayed by Eminent Word Artists of Onr Own Day—A Budget of Fun. Sprinkles of Spice. “Don’t you think the man who marries for money is a fool?” “He is, unless he gets it in advance.”—lndianapolis Journal. Fuddy—The villain! But you made him swallow his words?” Duddy— How could I, when they were so bitter?—Boston Transcript “Want any mouse traps? Come buy one, do!” “No, thanks; we have no mice.” “Ach, I’ll throw ’em in with pleasure!”—Humoristiscbes. In the Gloaming.—She (pointing at at a star) —Ah, there is Orion. Voice (from the darkness) —Yez are mistaken, mum, it’s O’Reilly.—Life. Wool—l don’t see how a dealer can afford to iron all the silk hats he sells Van Pelt —Has to do it; they’d last too long if he didn’t—Harlem Life. “Beg pardon, but what did you say was the name of your Kentucky friend?” “Col. Vandewater.” “Col. Vande—what?”—Cincinnati Tribune. Jaggers (weakly facetious) Th—think I was a burglar, m’ dear? Mrs. Jaggers—No! A burglar wouldn’t have taken half the time to get in!—Life. Blobbs—What’s the difference between gloves and policemen? Slobbs —Give it up. Blobbs—Well, gloves are usually on hand.—Philadelphia Record. Miss McFlirter—l have refused seven offers of marriage since last season. Miss C. Vere—Quite a sleight-of-hand performer, aren’t you?—New York Ledger. Wife—Mrs. Aller has gone abroad to be treated by a Parisian physician. Husband—So? She always had a predilection for French heels.—Boston Transcript “Why do you punch that hole in my ticket?” asked a little man of the railroad conductor. “So you can pass through,” was the reply.—Boston Commercial Bulletin.

“I see you have a safe in your din-ing-room,” said Perkins, who was visiting Jarley. “Is that for your silver?” “No; that’s my wine-cellar,” said Jarley.—Harper’s Bazar. Mrs. Kicksey—Why do you suppose the high hat is making so much trouble? Kicksey—Because there’s a woman at the bottom of it, of course.— Philadelphia Inquirer. “Jinkins, I believe you have some of the elements of a success about you.” “Not a„dollar, old man. Honor bright. You’d be welcome to it if I hau.”—Chicago Tribune. “Will you have, the chicken dressed?” asked the poulterer. “No,” replied young Mrs. Hunnimune; “you may send it to me—er—in the altogether.”—Washington Star. First Actor—What, don’t you like this play? I know one man, now, who thinks it is simply great Second Actor—Who is that? First Actor—The author. —Somerville Journal. Prospective Tenant (to agent)—You say this house is just a stone's throw from the depot Well, all I have to say is I have great admiration for the man who threw the stone.—Life. “Yes,” remarked the telephone girl as she gazed out at the waves and wondered what their number was, “I am connected with the best families in our city.”—lndianapolis Sentinel--Bouncing lawyer—“ Then you are prepared to swear that the parties came to high words?” Coster witness—“ Nay. I didna say that. I should say they was particularly low words.” Sheffield Week.

“Don’t you think that a good many of these Easter bonnet jokes are overdrawn?” she inquired. “Yes,” replied her cheerless husband; “and a good many bank accounts.”—Washington Star. Johnny Smart—“ There’s a big difference between my teacher and a streak of lightning.” Mrs. Smart—“ How so, son?” Johnny Smart—“He strikes several times in the same place.”—Philadelphia Inquirer. She—“l think there is considerable room for improvement in ladies’ dresses nowadays.” He—“'Well, in the sleeves especially, I should say there was room enough for almost anything.”—Yonkers Statesman. Professor—“To what did Xenophon owe his reputation?”. Student—“ Principally to the fact that his name commenced with X, and came in so handy for headlines in alphabetical copy books.”—Pearson’s Weekly. Mrs. Gray (to friend who has been to the prayer meeting)—“Did you have a good meeting?” Mrs. White—“ Rather uninteresting. None of the men who spoke had ever done anything bad.”— Bostpn Transcript. Julia—“Do you consider Mr. Nippy a mean man?” , Nellie—“ Mean? Not only mean, but cowardly. Why, he never will take a seat in a street car for fear he will have to give it up to some woman.” —Boston Transcript. Hoax —“I see they have a new name for those high buildings which are being erected.” Joax—“lndeed? What is it?” Hoax—“ They are called serial buildings, because they are continued stories.”—Philadelphia Ledger. “My mother-in-law never understands a joke,” says a correspondent “So I was surprised to receive a letter from her a few weeks after my little boy had swallowed a farthing, in which the last words were, ‘Has Ernest gotten over his financial difficulties yet?’ •Tld-Blts.

A Millionaire Anarchist.

There was a millionaire among the anarchists recently expelled by the Federal Council of Switzerland. - He was an Italian, named Borghetfi, and a temporary resident at Lugano, the great anarchist center in Europe. Borghetti is only 25 years, old. He dresse°d very simply, but kept open house for his fellow-revolutionists, who frequently had recourse also to his purse. Borghettl’s father, who did not share the anti-patriotic and anarchistic ideas of his son, used to hoist the Italian flag on national occasions, but young Borghetti promptly replaced It with the”red banner of the revolutionists.