Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 October 1883 — Page 2

TWK KENTUCKY RACE. TOU> AT THS OLD-SETTLERS’ MEETING. Wot yon fq-ard about that famous race o’forty 'Way downin Oil Kentucky? Twas a rattler—don’t you knew? From Piketon to Paducah, not a feller see that Butewhat laid richt down an Uughfd—ha, na, ha, ha, ha-a-w!—till he cried. Twas give’ out round in Lexin’ton the race was free an’ fa'r ... , , Tur ehy beast that hed four legs an grew a An’ every chap that hed * nag fur tw “ nt y towns wuz thar’. The day it jist wuz gorg es, an’ the track it wusntalow; .. ... The bosses they win anxious for the tnssle—don’t you know?- , ~ When up tear come a-ridin, right afore the race-course full, Ole Athaliar Jeffer<on, a-sfraddle on a hull! He hed a tin horn in his hand a.i spurs upon his boots; , , ' An' si. h a yellTfiever heard ez come from them galoots. „ . , , , . ... The fellers on the horses flunked, an claimed it wnxn't squat’. , . The jedgbS Handled to split ther sides, but said the race was fa'r “Fur any beast that hed four legs an grew a crop o' faa’i.” .... So the jedges they got readv, and’ they giv' the word to go. An’ bull an’ bosses started all together—don t you know? — ‘When sudden Athaliar giv’ a toot ujion his horn. An’ stuck his spurs imo the bull. Ez sure ez you were bom. The bull began to biller an the bosses flew the track; He took the lead, a-totin’Athaliar on his l a k. An’ round he come a-iushin’, wi.h his tail up in - 7 The jedges said the pot wuz his—that he hed won it fa’r; “He wuz a critter on four legs that, grew a crop o’ ha'r. filch a laughin’, sich a hootin’, sich a ha, ha, ha-a-aw!— .. The State o' Ole Kentucky never known, or heard, onsawOle Atb-liar took the pot—the bull an’ he had won. The crowd it sided with the bull, an' hollered *t the fun. w The owneis o’ the bosses they began to cnss an’ Bwa*r* They said that Athaliar hedh’t won upon the sqnar’— •That horn o* his'n hedn’t legs nor eny crop o’ ha'r. . ■v-.'__L_. Then up spoke Athaliar: “Boys, I’ll lay the ole horn by; *F you've got a bundled dollars, you kin hev anethertry; Bl put the i>ot agin it, for I'm willin’—don't you know — To give you satisfaction, if you'll give me eny show.” They up an’ raised the money in a jiffy then an' thar'— Each owner o' an anlmile a-chipi in' in a shar' So beat old Athaliar an'his beast with legs an’ ha'r. ‘ Away agin’ they started with a w hoop an'big halloo! That bull o' Athaliar’s, how he bellered—don’t you know? ; _ Ther wasn't a boss among ’em all that Showed a speck o’ sense? Jehial thoro’bred jist threw him thro' the fence; Borne stood the’r riders on the'r heads, some scampered from the track. An’ half-a-dozen turned the’r tails an’ come ascootin’ back; * While right ahead that critter tore, an' jist • sure ez sin V He won, an’Athaliar scooped another humlnfl | o in. An’ when afore tho Judges’ stand the bull come sailin’ by. With tail a-stickin’ out behind, I tho't that crowd would die. The yell it gave—ha, ha, ha, ha-a-w! it fa’rly shook the a'r. The bosses left, an’ never sence hez race been free and fa'r “Fur eny beast that hed four legs an' grew a crop o' ha'r.” —From "Away Out West," bw Eugene J. Ball

RUTH’S BRAVERY.

BY MISS LILLIAN E. WALKER.

“Of course Ruth, you will go with Ned?” A rosy flush suffused Ruth Dalton’s lovely face at her friend’s question. Before she could answer, ’Fan Stewart continued with a good-natured la.ugh. “You needn’t blush, you little goose, we all know Ned’s in love with you!” A large ball was to be given at the hotel in Preston, and Fan had ridden over from her father’s ranch to talk over their toilette for the occasion. Mr. Dalton owned an extensive sheep ranch, about eight miles from Preston, a thriving little town on the frontier. Ruth was his only child, a fair, sweet girl as ever you saw, with great, brown eyes, and a quantity of beautiful chestnut hair that waved about her lovely face in a way that made the other girls wild with envy. She was the pride of Mr. Dalton’s heart, and when ‘Ned Ralston came wooing he could not bear the idea of losing his darling, but when he came to know Ned’s true, manly worth, end strict integrity of character, his prejudice vanished, and for once the course of true love seemed to run smooth, “but man proposes and God disposes. ” Ned had come out the evening before our story opens and invited Ruth to attend the ball with him. He was a handsome young man, tall, well-formed, with a kind word for all, that won him a host of friends. Ned had come to Preston with the intention of investing his small capital to the best advantage, and, while looking around, lived in a little cottage near the outskirts of the town with his mother. Preston was no exception to other towns on the frontier, and lynching had been tried in a number of instances. In the daytime the place was quite orderly, but when night came the saloons and gambling places were in full blast.

Ned had one fierce enemy in Preston, however, in the shape of a rival for Buth’s hand. His name was Dan Rider, a speculator, who had fallen in love with her, and was determined to make her his wife. He had received a decided refusal before Ned came to Preston, a but he thought Ruth was timi<j, and he would surely win herintheend. When he heard of her engagement to Ned, his sallow face grew livid with fury and his beady black eyes looked murderous, as he ground out a curse between his set teeth. The evening before the ball Ruth sat in the “best room,” where a great pile of logs in the fireplace crackled and blazed. The wind moaned and wailed, and the snow blew against the window pane. She shivered and drew near the genial warmth of the fire. The door opened, and a man entered the room covered with snow. “Good evening, Mr. Rider,” she said, greatly startled; “take a seat here by “No,” he answered, abruptly. “I can say what I want to standing. Ruth,” he continued, in a pleading voice, “they gay you are engaged to Ralston, and I have come out here through the storm do ask you once more to be my wife.

“Stop I” Ruth said, coldly, “it is utterly impossible. ” A look oMptense pain flitted over his face, but was .quickly yeplac&l by one of hatred, as he said, slowly and clearly, working his thin, claw-likeflngers nervj qndy together: “Then Ralston shall I never wed you, for I will kill him first! ’ “It. is a threat truly worthy of you, Dan Rider, but Ned is amply able to® take cure of himself," Ruth answered, as she left the room. She told Ned the next evening, when he called for her, what had occurred. “Ned, you must promise not to be drawn into a quarrel with b in,” she said, in a pleading voice, just as Ned's natty little ’ cutter drew up in front of the hotel, ' which was lighted fiom top to bottom, life di<l not promise, for he was very angry with Rider, and made up his mind to teach him a lesson, if oppoytur nity occurred. There whs a teTowd of loungers around the door, watching the arrivals. Nedsprangoutofthe-cutter,and went to assist Ruth to alight. A fall, lank fellow, called Long Jake, one of the worst characters in that fiart of the country.. stepped airily forward, and, pushing Ned aside, said, with a drunken leer: “Stan’ back, Ralston, lem’me help the gal down,” and reaching up he tried to clasp Ruth in his arms. ... ...... She shrank back in alarm. Like a flash it came to Ned that Long Jake liad been hired to provoke a quarrel with him, and in, the melee that was sure to follow, give Rider a chance to fulfill his threat. In less time than it takes to write it, Ned raised h.s good right hand and with a blow that would have felled au ox, struck Jake square in Che face. The blow was unexpected, and the villain with an bath on his lips fell’backward into the snow. The fracas had been witnessed by a large crowd, who gave a hearty cheer at the neat manner in which Ned had laid out the biggest bully in Preston. Ned did not appear to notice them, but carefully assisted Ruth to alight. She was nearly dead wit h fright, and clung convulsively to his arm. Long Jake rose to his feet cursing horribly. —Ned stopped as they reached the doorway, and said in a calm, clear

voice: “I’ll settle with.you later.” Fatal words destined to bring Ned to the very verge of the grave. Ruth pleaded with him not to return, but, leaving her with Fan Stewart, he went back down staits. i - The men were standing in groups talking over the oecurence. “Pretty wqll do nd, Ralston, give us a shake, you won’t have the pleasure again to-night, for he has taken himself off.” Long Jake was a herder, and was looked down upon with contempt by every honest man in Preston, for it was well-known that he could be hired to do anything with a quart of whisky. As soon as Ned could get away he went bach to Ruth, who could scarcely believe he had returned safe. The first set formed on just then, and Nel had no time to tell her of his suspicions, and in the pleasures of the dance, the unpleasant episode was nearly forgotten, except by those interested. J' '- ' .. ■. ■■ / That the affair was not ended, all who are familiar with the customs of the ‘Western frontier, was well aware, and when Ned took Ruth up in his arms and wading through the deep snow, placed her once more on her father’s door-step, she said in a pleading voice: “Be careful, Ned, for my sake. I feel as though something awful was going to happen; ” Ned laughed at her fears, and, straightening himself to his full height, answered: “Don’t I look as if I could take care of myself ?” “Yes,” she answered proudly, "but Long Jake is so treacherous dear.” He kissed the sweet lips tenderly, sprang into the cutter and was gone. Ruth knew it was a ruse to keep her from talking about the quarrel, and, with a sigh, she opened the door and entered the house. All night she tossed about the bed unable to sleep. Nearly a week passed, and Ruth began to think the affair was really ended. Ned did not know what tn think, as Long Jake had utterly disappeared, but he knew by the look of hatred Dan Rider gave him ■‘whenever they chanced to meet, that he might look out for something desperate. Nearly a week passed,, and one morning news was brought to Mr. Dalton’s that Long Jake had been found near Mr. Stewart’s ranch with a bullet in his brain. ~ Popular feeling ran high, and the road between Preston and Stewart’s was lined with vehicles of all kinds, full of people anxious to view the remains of the murdered man. In life, poor Jake had few friends and many enemies; but it was astonishing to see how rapidly his friends multiplied when it was learned that he had been most foully murdered. Threats loud and deep were made against the miscreant who had committed the deed.

Preston had not had a murder for some time, and work was practically suspended, and the search vigorously prosecute;. As night descended the crowds of men became louder in their threats, and one man was heard to.say, “Jake’s dead, and somebody’s got ter hang.” This was very poor reasoning, but the whisky hud circulated freely to keen out the cold, and it is only justice to say that half of them did not know what they were about, each one suggesting some plan to capture the murderer. Finally one man broke out in indignant voice: “Dan Rider, you had better keep still; there is no use in yer trying to lay it onto Ned, it won’t go down;” Rider knew by the black Looks of the men that it was no use to try and arouse their suspicions, and, with a look of determination on his sinistercounteuance, he cr£ft>t away. ; ; . o At Mr. Dalton’s it was oppressively quiet, for the men had, all gone to Stewart’s. About 10 o’clock Ned rode up, and said his mother was not feeling well when he left, and, as there was nothing he could do, made up his mind to go home. . • • “Have they found any trace of the murderer yet?” Ruth asked. 1

| “No," he replied; “l>e has covered his I tracks extremely well. Keep up good | fires, Ruth, for your father will he ! honje soon, and it is the coldest night we nave, had. Ruth felt very lonely after Ned left; and, after wandering over the whole I house, made up her mind to go and sit ■ with the housekeeper, Mrs. Stevens. , Just as she was going to open the kitchen door, a man’s voice said: “Get a pail of cold wahr; I’ve frozen both my feet." “Have they found the murderer yet'?'’ Mrs. Stevens asked. “Might as well; they found Ralston’s revolver with his name on it, in the snow. ” “Who found it?” “Dan Rider, and the bo s sent me home to keep anybody from tcllin’ the gal.” ' . “Poor child! it will kill her. Can’t you go and warn Ned?” . A groan was her reply, and Ruth waited for no more. She had stood like a statue, all the life dying out of the fair, sweet face. “My God!” she whispered; “it cannot be true! I must save hini or die in the attempt!” She knew the man and woman in the kitchen would never allow her tp go; and with swift, noiseless steps she wrapped herself up warm, and, thrusting a pistol in her pocket, slipped softly out of the front door; and, going to the barn, saddled her own horse, and, springing lightly upon his back, a second later she was flying toward Preston. Ruth was very timid by nature, and a thousand fears beset her, but the thought of her lover’s danger made her brave as a lion. Lightfoot fairly flew over the ground, in her surprise at her mistress’ stern voice. The howl of wild animals made her fairly scream with terror. Every little while she fancied she could hear the shouts of the mob behind her, and made frantic appeals to the horse to tiw to urge her forward. Although reared on the frontier, she had been most ten-derly-eared for by her loving father, and knew nothing about defending herself against the bitter cold ftiat seemed to penetrate her very heart. She begau that her chilled singer s_ could scarcely hold the bridle. Lightfoot never slackened her pace, and when the whip dropped from Ruth’s icy fingers, she gave a little neigh of satisaction.

With her mind filled with the horrible danger of her love - , Ruth did not think of herself, until a sense of dreamy, delicious languor came over her,, -and lover, father, home seemed fading from her mind. With a low, despairing cry she fell forward on the faithful animal’s neck.. Lightfoot had been a present from Ned to Ruth, and she would never pass her former master’s door without stopping. To, this little peculiarity Ruth, doubtless, owed her life. Ned heard the familiar neigh and opened the door just as "Ruth fell under the horse’s feet. “Oh, mother! what does this mefin?" he asked, laying the unconscious girl down on the little lounge. “Poor dear, some terrible trouble has driven her to us.” Mrs. Ralston answered,chafing the the ’ey fingers. Ned was down upon his knees by her side, watching eagerly for returning consciousness “Give her another swallow of the brandy, Ned,* his mother whispered. In a second the, eye-lid fluttered, and she opened her eyes. “Ruth, mv darling, what is the matter?” “Ah, Ned! you must fly. Rider found your pistol in the snow. Father is trying to reason with them, but it is no use. You know what —I—mean-?”-Ned’s face blanched, but he said, calmly: “I know you are nearly frozen, my darling. Mother,” he continued, “put warm blankets on your bed. You must go to bed at once, or how will I ever dare look your father in the face, if I am the means of your catching your death of cold!” he said, turning to Ruth. “But. “You need not worry, for-1 can prove that Dan Rider entered my room while I-was absent, and stole my revolver; and I can prove that thenight Jake was “Thank God!” Ruth murmured. Mrs. Ralston came back just then, and Ruth, who was nearly dead with fatigue, arose and went into the next room, where both women laid down with their clothes on. “For we do not know what may happen,” Ruth said, when Mrs. Ralston reremonstrated. How’ long she slept, she did not know, bht was awakened by horrible cursing and swearing, and Rider’s hated voice above all the rest, shouting: “Drag him out, and string him up to this cottonwood tree!” Mrs. Ralston tried to rise from the bed, but, with a groan cf anguish, fell back unconscious. Rider’s voice brought Ruth to her feet, and, snatching up her revolver, she flung open the door, afid went into the midst of the maddened crowd. Her sudden appearance stilled the tumult somewhat, and she saw Ned lying on the floor, a gash on his forehead from w hich the blood was pouring in torrents. They had already placed the rope around his neck, and his white, insensible face seenjed not to arouse a particle of pity. Ruth’s eyes flashed with indignation, and lifting Ned’s blood-stained head said in a high, imperious voice, “Stand back all of you! How dare you attempt to hang a man without giving him a chance to vindicate himself? He is innocent and Can prove it!” “It’s a ——lie, boys; drag him along. Put the girl in the other room, and some one watch her.” Tire crowd' came nearer at these words from Rider. None of them liked the idea of laying hands on the “boss’ gal,” and they did not want to be cheated out of hanging sLong Jake’s murderer. Rising to her feet, she stretched out her hands and said pleadingly, “Dick, George, Tom, will you stand by and allow these men to touch me ? Remember what a friend my father has been to Iydu, and help me.” » . , They were all three men from Mr. Dalton’s ranch, and after a moment’s

hesitation Dick answered, “Yes, miss, we’ll stand by yer.” Rider fairly shrieked with rage, but it was of no use, and after her three champions had quelled the .tumult somewhat. Ruth related what Ned hail told her of the'the;t of the revolver. Her words needed no better proof than Rider’s face. It was gray with fear. Hid trembling limbs refused to guppdrt him, and he sank to the floor begging p.teous'y. But it was of no use. and, after extracting a confessio iTofTiis having-shot Long Jake .n order to have Ned lynched, they literally pounced upon him, and in Spite of Luth’s prayers and entreaties, they dragged him away. Ruth knelt and prayed for the poor wretch launched into eternitywitnout a chance TonrepefltaTjce." 7 Huth’s three cavaliers spon brought Neil out of his" swoon, and in a few moments the house was filled with sympathizing- friends. .1 Mrs. Ralston could only weep and thank Ruth, for the brave part she had taken. Mr. Dalton arrived at daylight and said that the horses had been appropriated by the lynchers and a sick horse of Mr. Stewart was finally taken to bring him to Preston. He passed his hand tenderly over Ruth’s bright head, and whispered softlv, “God bless vou! my darling child.”

Ned was delirious when he was fully aroused, and long weeks followed in which his life was despaired of. Each one of the men who had been so anxious to lynch him, took turns watching by his bedside, and, when he finally recovered, a weight was lifted from their conscience. It was learned that the blow Ned received was struck by Rider, before he could speak. It was a lesson the men will never forget, and Rider was the last man ever lynched in Preston. When Ned had fully recovered, there was a wedding the like of which none of them had ever seen before. Fan Stewart was bridesmaid, and Ruth looked fair and sweet as an angel in her pure bridal robes; her hair had turned nearly white from the troubles of that hgrrible night. “To think of your wedding a grayhaired bride,” she said gayly to Ned. “Hush, darlingJ” he replied, “every gray hair is doubly precious to me. ” Although surrounded securely by her friends, the remembrance of that night will turn her sweet face white as marble, and Ned will clasp her in his armsand whisper, “my brave darling; but foi you I would now be lying in my grave.”— Chicatjo Ledger.

An Intelligent Servant.

A gentleman in Austin has a new servant, he undertook to coach him in regard to certain creditors, who invariably hounded him the first of each month with aggravating bills. “Ndw,” said he to his servant, “if a man calls for me to-day, you tell him I am not at home.” “Yis t sor,” replied the man. Fearing a misunderstanding in some way he again said: “Now’, Pat, what will you tell the man when he calls!'* “Till him I am not at home, sor.” “No, no, blockhead, fell him that if myself, am not at home.” “All roight, sor.” “Now, what will you say to him?” “I, mysilf, am not at home.” “Pshaw! Tell him your boss is not in. Understand that, donkey? Now, what will you say ?” “Your boss is not in. Understand that, donkey?” “Fool! That’s not right. Say to him, ‘I am out.’ Can you do that?” “Yis, sor.’’ “Well, let’s hear you.” \ “I am out.” “Thunderation! Can’t you understand? Tell him your master is out. Now, what will you say?” “Your master is out.” “No, you don’t say anything of the kind, you ignoramus. Tell the man that I have left the house.” “Certainly, I’ll till him I have left the house, but he won’t believe me w’hen lie sees me in the house. ” “Pshaw! Can’t you simply say I have gone out for a walk?” “Thin he’ll think I am lying, sor.” “How so?” “Why, whin I tell him I have gone out for a walk—” “Great Potipher! You are the stupidest fool I ever knew. See here, I don’t want to see any of the people .that will call to-day, aqd I want them to understand that there’s no use of them calling, as they won’t find me at home. Can you give them an ambiguous answer in your own words?” “Is it an ambiguous answer? I should say I could, if you jist lave it to me.” “Well, what will you say?” “I’ll say, when they ax me if you are in: ‘Yis, the boss is in, but he has committed bigamy, an’ gone off on a weddin’ tour wid a widdy womans an’ if they don’t arrest him for the ambiggity, yez ’ill niver see the color av his hair agin.’ That’ll fetch ’em.”— Texas Siftings.

Joshua’s Spoon.

Abraham and Jeshua had been invited to a splendid dinner. It Was imjrossible for Jushua not to make capital out of such an opportunity; accordingly he managed to slip a silver spoon into his boot. Abraham was green with envy at Joshua’s success, for he had not even manipulated a saltspoon. But an idea struck him. “My frents,” he cried, “I vill show you some dricks. ” Taking up a spoon, he said, “You zee dees spoon?, Veil, itees gone," he cried, passing it up his sleeve. “You vill'find it in Joshua’s bood.” ■ It was found.— Neic York Life. Rely on your own judgment as far as possible. A man who has no idea of his own, but is perpetually running to others for advice, has no self within him, and is a mere element of a human being, borne about the world an insignificant cypher, unless he chances to fasten, by accidental cohesion, to some other floating and supplementary element by which die forms a species resembling a man.

Second Battle of Shiloh.

For two days and nights a party ot ;hree of us from the North were quariei'e'd wjth a log-cabin farmer while we explored the battle-field of Shiloh. He ivas a good man, though rather shy at first, and h's wife'was an awful good woman, though she had her faults. Two of us slept in a room divided from the family bedroom only by a thin board partition, and on the second night, after we ought to have been sound asleep, the old woman suddenly began: T’-q “Now, Jabez Smith, you’n Til have a settlement!” +* “Why, mother, what is it ?” he asked. “What is it? Why, ever since them strangers showed up you’ve bin carrying a powerful high head! You claimed you were in this fight. ” “Y-e-s.” “Take it back! Take it back, Jabez Smith, or I’ll make a bald-head of 1 you!” liair, and he yelled out that he was a liar and wiis sorry for it. “And you’ve been taking pains to spe ik of your farm, and your team, and your this and that. Jabez, who owns this farm? Who bought them males? Out with it, or I’ll get the gouge on your eye!”

“I—l reckon you do!” he stammered. “You bet I do! I heard you telling how you lost eighty niggers by the war. Jabez, that was an infernal lie! Own it up, or PR shet yer breath off!” - 51—I own it, mother.” “And you was telling as how your father was a Judge in North Carolina. Jebez Smith, take it back?” “Well, wasn’t he?” “Never! He was nothing but a Tennessee! ’coon-hunter, and you know it! Oh! you need pounding!” He hadn’t any opinion to express on that point, and after an interval of silence she raised upon her elbow, and resumed: “Now, then, you hear me! I own that squat, and that mule team, and that cow and all else. I run the business. I run you. If I ever find you prancing around again like you have for she last two days, I’ll make dog’s meat of you ! Do you Jisten?” ■ He didn't say. “Oh, you don’t! Then take that! and that! and - At this juncture the bed broke down with an awful crash, followed by the howls of the dogs sleeping under it, and the groans and jaw words of man and wife, and he turned over and went to sleep with the conflict still raging.— M. QuacL——. .-. ■

Crimean Battlefields.

Sebastopol is in ruins: but here and there houses of a better description are cropping up. There is a new admirality and a new church, the latter on the top of the ridge near the old ruined church of SS. Peter and Paul. It is built of Inkerman stone, and, with the new church of Vladimar and the great memorial edifice to the memory of those wlu> fell in the seige, situated on the north side of the harbor, forms three very conspicuous white objects, seen from the deck of the ship as one approaches Sebastopol. There is a good fish market at day-break each day, and the city has three good hotels. The newest, or Grand Hotel, is very comfortable. There are plenty of horses for riding and carriages for hire,so one disposed to revisit the fields of his earlier battles can easily do so, and without either much trouble or expense. The trenches are easily discerned by those who have any knowledge of them. Bits of sole-leather, heels of boots, buttons, the tin inside of pouches are about in all directions, and innumerable pieces of broken bottles. The monuments, from long exposure to the weather, are in many cases illegible. The sites Of camps are now greai meadows with fair crops. The windmill has its roof decayed and..gone. Our roads are our greatest monuments. There they are, unused and tiseless, as the Tartars never travel on macadamized roads if they can go on grass. The battlefield of Inkerman is now a forest of stunted trees. Not even the road up the redoubt is passable for a carriage. The two-gun battery cannot be seen until you are in it. The plains noy ■ underijett ltivation, and are covered with enormous fields of corn, vineyards and orchards. The town has some pleasant new houses, recently built, and a good hotel. It is recreation ground for those who like to get away from the dust‘and dirt of Sebastopol. There has been a good deal of property recovered from the wrecks in the harbor—money, wine, beer, etc. —and hopes are entertained that some of the £60.000 in gold known to be in the Captain’s cabin of the Prince may yet be recovered. I visited Alma then. It lies in solitary grandeur. The cattle and sheep avoid the deadly slopes. The few tombs covering the remains of the compatriots are ruined and neglected. The monument over the officers of the Twenty-third is in pieces. This is to be lamented as it is a beautiful memorial of white marble and conspicuous for many miles as you approach the battery where so many fell to rise no more.— Army and Navy Gazette.

What It May Cost Us.

We, as a people, came naturally by our. prodigality. Abundant resources will make any man careless if they have come to his hand without any effort of his own. We have been in much the same condition of mind as the savage who kills a buffalo merely that he may eat the tongue. But the, East, now that fish have deserted its rivers, the trees are gone from its hillsides, and much of its soil is worn out, is enough alarmed to attempt reformation. It seems too early for the • West to come to its senses; but, if the work of slaughtering game, destroying forests and overtaxing the land is continued at its present rate, “the granary of the world” may yet be unable to do more than care for the needs of itd own people.— The Hour. I-j is no disgrace not to be able to do" everything; but to undertake, or pretend to do, what you are not mndo for, is not only shameful, but extremely troublesome and vexatious.— Plutarch.

PITH AND POINT.

Nothing in it—a dude’s head. Even the best clock stores keep the second-hand timepieces. “No more reflections, please,” said, the looking-glass, after it tumbled down stairs. Toots wants to know why tho saloons don’t issue thousand-smile tickets. Is the man who delivers a declamation through the telephone a hellocutionist ? Why is death like the tag attached to a dog at the canine show ? Because they are both bound to a cur. When Carlyle said that everybody -Should have an aim in life he had no reference to the fair sex. He liad doubtless often seen a woman trying to throw a stone at a hen, “Dead broke, eh ?”, queried a Boston man of a seedy-looking individual, whom lie saw passing into a shop adorned with three golden balls. “No,” was the curt reply, “pawn-broke.” The editor of the Waco (Texas) 1 .Sentinel, having been blown up by the explosion of a saw-mill boiler, we suppose it will now be in order to allude to him as “our highly-steamed contemporary.” —Life. One of the most sanguinary puns of the season was perpetrated by the Boston Bulletin, as follows: “A blooded horse is of course a good gore.*' After such an effort as this life appears much brighter.— New York Advertiser. Railroads have ironed the country. So have laundry proprietors. Each have done considerable mangling, but as this is talking iron ically we will desist, as each have a polished way about them.—CarZ Pretzel’s Weekly. The Philadelphians are worrying over the fact that the coal supply will run short in less than 1,000 years. They need not borrow trouble on that score. The Philadelphian will be where he will need no coal in less than a 1,000 years.— Carl Pretzel’s Weekly. The President of an Insurance Company addressed the following note to one of his policy-holders: “It has come to our knowledge that you have written several spring poems with the intention of offering them for sale to the public p ess.” I write this to say if you persist in your purpose it will work a forfeiture of your policy. You only pay the oixlina-ry rates, and we always classify spring poets as ‘extra hazardous.’ ” A Trojan 2i.tye&-old was sitting on his mamma’s lap after having undergone the. preliminaries to retiring for the, night. His countenance assumed a deeply thoughtful expression. Suddenly, having apparently reached the solution of the puzzle exercising his brain, he looked up into his parent’s face and sagely asked: “Mamma, wasn’t I good not to be a girl?” Having received maternal approval of his forethought, he quietly and contentedly dropped asleep. POKING FUN AT POKES. See the women with the pokes— Horr.d j ikes— What a world of merriment their ugliness provokes! How they wobble, wobble, wobble. In the balmy air of June, While the French-heeled beauties hobble. And the envious turkeys Robbie In a hoarse, derisive tune. Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of jerky rhyme. To the hop and bobbing motion that the mincing ' gait invokes From the pokes, pokes, pokes, pokes, Pokes, pokes, pokes. From the bobbing and the wobbling of the pokes. —Burlington Free Press. “John,” said a farmer to an old negro, “if you don’t return that plow you stole froni me I’ll have you arrested and sent to jail. ” “Boss, yer must be outer yer head.” “No, I’m not. You thought that you were very sharp, but I have caught up with you. Bring that plow home.” “Boss, I insists dat yer must ..be wrong in yer mine.” “All right—■ have it your own way, but I’ll take immediate action, for I know very well that you stole my plow.” , “Didn’t do it. Now, what sorter plow did I steal, sah?” . “A plow with a blue stock.” “Will yer swear to it, sah?” “Yes, I will. ” “Well, de plow what I stole from yer is got a yaller stock. Jes’ go on an’ hab me ’rested fur stealin’, an’ I’ll hab yei-sef'rested fur swarin’ ter a lie, Talk ter me ’bout de hones’ness ob a vfLite mau.”—AYkansate Traveler.

Sore Throat.

“Mrs. Woodruff, is this you?” asked the court of a female about 40 years old who came out with her parasol raised above her head. “Yes, your Honor, this is me, I’m sorry to say. This is the last time that a doctor will ever fool me into gargling whisky to cure a sore throat.” “You had a sore throat?” “A bad one, sir. It has been two weeks since I have eaten solid food.” “And as you gargled and gurgled some of the whisky slipped down and produced intoxication?” “Exactly, sir.” “Mrs. Woodruff, my recipe for sore throat is thirty days in the workhouse, and I never knew it to fail of a cure. This is your first appearance here, and I shall let you go.” “Thanks, sir. I shall leave for Toledo to-day.” “And you’d better stick to that town. Sore throat is such a familiar ailment down there that everybody is expected to gargle. ” — Detroit Free Press.

Bed-Bugs.

Sunlight fluid is a first-rate bug and nit killer. Apply once a week while any signs of bugs remain. It does not injure bedsteads, varnish, paint or whitewashed walls. It is very Beaching, runs into the cracks and other hiding places of the bugs and routs them out and deadens them quickly. Be sure to drench them well. Keep all flame away while using the fluid, of course. Smoking, says a late Southern correspondent, is very general at the South. Mill-packing hands often carry matches which are liable to drop and be swept into the cotton. An old picker can tell of picking matches off his “feed,” especjaHy when Working waste and sampled cotton.