Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 January 1885 — Page 2

low lay ncftu, #Hv“r tno poron« Hr klmr.L-m •• here, h.h' vs :::.v ■vi Hr own dear love, sit down by me; Psr^wis".™,-»;'s. 1 ■ W' We are not rich; onr vast estates W Comprise this oot beside theses, 9 And what few fish bv tide or fate Get in nr nets, Gille Machree. We are not poor; no, no, my aweet! For wealth nntold I stain with thee; Gold cannot buy the glance I meet In thy shy eyes, Gliie Machree 1 This hearth's onr own, my loyal wife, Our fruitful Tine, onr own fijt tree; Onr hearts are one; one peaoeful life, One death, be ours, Gille Machree. And side by side shall onr two graves Be sheltered by one willow tree; And breezes blow the scattered leaves From thine to mine, Gille Machree 1 - Clara If Dalgardune, in the Currant

A PARADOX. I recollect how grieved I was When Consln Amy married. I thought her very crnol because For me she had not tarried. She gave to my affection green Encouragement in plenty. For I wan under seventeen And she was flve-and-twonty. Fair Amy is a widow now, her sorrow fast outgrowing; Tis very singular, I vow. The way the years are going, With fne, at allegro rate; With her a graceful, lent? — Now Tam nearing thirty-eight And she is slx-and-twenty. I should be gratified to know How others, like my cousin, A twelvemonth older only grow. One year in a half a dozen. Oh, Chronosl teH the secret me. The power superhuman That causes time with man to flee. But bids it wait with woman. — Life.

ATTEMPTING THE HISTRIONIC.

BY STANLEY HUNTLEY. “My dear," said Mrs. Spoopendyke, contemplating herself in the glass as she removed her hat and gloves, “My dear, wasn’t the theatre just too sweet for anything I Do you know, I think I would like toge on the stage?” “Like to drive, perhaps,”' suggested Mr. Spoopendyke. “I mean act," replied his wife. “I think I could do it as well as any of those women to-night. Do yon know mnoh about theatres? Is it hard?” “No," grunted Mr. Spoopendyke, tagging at his boots, “it would be very easy for you. All you have to do Is to stand around and 'talk, and you won’t want any rehearsals for that" “But I would have to practice twisting around so as to fall in that man’s arms like she did,” mused Mrs. Spoopendyke. “I don’t think I could do it as gracefully as she did without trying several times.” “That’s the part yon want to play, is it?" growled Mr. Spoopendyke, with a shade of green in his eye. “You let me see you fall on any man’s shoulder like.that, and you’ll find no trouble in getting twisted around a few times. What’s yonr idea in going oh the stage ? Have you got a stomach full of devotion to art like the rest of the dod gtuited women of this generation? Qot a sort of notion that yon can go on the boards and show the old stagers how it’s done, haven’t ye? Feel the fires of histrionic genius climbing up yonr spine, don’t ye ? Well, yon don’t! It’s nothing but yonr measley vanity. Yon want to get np high somewhere and be looked at!” “Don’t yotf think I would know how to act?” she asked, polling her erimps over her forehead, assuming a stern expression of visage, and stretching her arms down rigidly by her sides. “This is the way I wonld foil the villain.” “Is.that what yon call it?” inquired Mr. Spoopendyke, nursing his knee and glowering upon her. “It looks more as if you were bidding against another woman for a second-hand hair doth sofa at an auction. If that sort of thing is calculated to foil the villain, he most be pretty light in the waist” “I don’t know,” smiled Mrs. Spoopendyke, robbing her ohiu. “In all the plays I have ever seen, they always drive the bad man off with a haughty look. Say, dear, isn’t this the way to welcome a husband ’ after a long absence?” and she parted her lips, gazed eagerly into spaoe, and extended her arms. “That’s the way to hail a street-car!” grunted Mr. Spoopendyke. “If you want to make the welcome of the husband perfectly natural, yon ought to have a smell of onions in the hall and your back hair in yonr month. That’s the kind of a welcome I always get” “No yon don’t, either!” protested Mrs. Spoopendyke. “I always run right np to you, and kiss you!” “Well, there’s a smell of onions about it somewhere " persisted Mr. Spoopendyke. “What makes yon stick yonr arms oat like andirons ?” he demanded. “You look as if yon were trying to keep off a dog!” “Anyhow, that’s the' way they do it,” argued Mrs. Spoopendyke, a trifle abashed. “Then, when they get the letters telling them that their uncle has speculated away all their property, they do like this," and Mrs. Spoopendyke threw her hand to lier forehead, staggered back, and caught hold of a chair. “Which does like that, the uncle or the property?” asked Mr. Spoopendyke, eyeing the petformance with high disfavor. “It looks something like the property at the tail end of the speculation, but it resembles more accurately the uncle haying a lower berth for Canada.” “I meant it for the orphan who had been despoiled,” murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke, straightening np and looking rather downcast, “It was intended for an attitnde of dispair. How would yon do it, this way ?” and she sank into the chair, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed vio“III wanted to give the impression of a tight boot and corn, I should do it jiwt that way,” growled Mr. Spoopen- ’ “Should I throw my arms foreward listlessly, and let my heaA faUstf?” she inquired, suiting the gesture to the '' . ' wjp> hadn’t seen-the play before might tlihk you were counting the pieces for ’ '”■■■ ‘5 \.V > •

Messed* •* “I don’t care," remonstrated Mrs. Spoopendyke; “I knew I could act if I could get a chance. Now see me scorn lay lover when I find ont that he loves me nbfc, and has been paying his- addresses to the heiress;” and she threw her head back, stretched ont one arm, and oovered her face with a pale cast of loathing. “That might do,” said Mr. Spoopendyke slowly. “It looks to me like an attempt to 1 borrow $2.50. Stick ont the other hand and make it $5.00. I don't know, though,” he continued, ‘both arms would look like ‘bring me me che-ildl” I guess you’d better stick to the original amount. You’ll bemore apt to collect." “Perhaps you think Pd do better in comedy,” faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke, her spirits dashed by adverse criticism. “Now we will suppose that I am the cook who boiled the watermelon, and yon, as.the master of the house, are enraged with me. How will this do for the cook's attitnde of bewilderment and penitence?" She struck a comical attitude and gazed at him aghast “Don’t! don’t! exolaimed Mr. Spoopendyke, burying his face in his hands and pretending to be overcome with emotion. “It is beantiful, but it reminds me so much of mother’s death! Please let up! I can’t bear it!” and Mr. Spoopendyke sobbed alond. “I didn’t intend it that way, dear,” sighed Mrs. Spoopendyke, embracing him tenderly.” “Forgive me, but I thought I was acting funny.” “That’s all right,” snorted * Mr. Spoopendyke, recovering himself with a jerk. “But the next time you act ’comedy, leave out the draughts and the chances for a cold in the head. You take about acting! You don’t know any more about it than a pig knows about the contribution box. Look here, now; I’ll jnst give yon one passage and let that be the end of the whole business.” Mr. Spoopendyke arose, thrust one hand in the breast of his coat, set his teeth tight and growled. Then he rolled his eyes around and roared, “Aha!” Advancing one foot with the stamp of an eleplant, he swung his arm around and —crash! The mantle ornaments lay in a profused heap on the floor. “Oh. dear!” murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke, trembling from head to foot. “Got enough!” demanded Mr. Spoopendyke, surveying the wreck with distended eyes. “Want the rest of4his scene, or will you have the play withdrawn on aooount of sickness in the family ? Want to act some more, don’t ye?” he howled, his gorge rising. “Got some kind of a notion fastened to yonr head with hairpins that the whole dramatic business depends upon yon, and that you only want a wig and a curtain to be a whole dod gasted theater with , speculators out in front and a bar next door. Oh, go right on and act 1” he yelled, and then striking a high falsetto, he squeaked, “Henrico, me own Henrico—ah!—pardon these tears. Oh, God! How can I tell him! Concealment is useless! Henrico !—ah!—me own Henrico! The carriage waits,” and Mr. Spoopendyke fell over backwards on the bed and fired his feet up in the air. On with the dance!” be roared, springing to a perpendicular again. “Bring on the ballet?” and spinning around like a top in the excitement of his wrath, he lost his balance, came down hard on the smashed china, and then went speechless to his conch. “I don’t care,” murmnred Mrs. Spoopendyke, brushing away the debris so she conld safely sit on the floor to take off her shoes. “I think I could act as well as most of them, though, of course, I couldn’t play the villain parts as well &i he can, and I don’t think I should mash as many things. When he gives me another lesson, I think I’ll take him ont in the field where he can’t break anything but his back.” And with this thrifty resolution, Mrs. Spoopendyke fell upon a microscopic hole in the heel of her sock, and lost sight of the stage in the interest the abrasion excited.— Drake's Traveler's Magazine.

A Remarkable Recovery.

One of the most remarkable recoveries from awful injury that is on record was that of Mr. D. J. Starbuck, then of this city, who was freight conductor on the Davenport & Brooklyn division of the Chicago, Bock Island & Pacific, He went down with a bridge in his caboose in lowa City, and nearly the whole of the left side of his head was crashed in. Dr. Peck removed the broken pieces of sknll, trimmed the jagged edges of what remained even, and left an exposure of the brain in a space three and a half by four inches in extent, and then the skin was induced to form over the opening and a silver plate was made to cover and protect the thin membrane. Mr. Starbuck regained his health fully, but he had to, be very careful with the left side of his head, as an accident to the film which covered his brain would have been disastrous. All this occurred some fourteen years ago, and after three or fonr years residence here and in Moscow, Mr. Starbuck went Away, no one knew whither. Now it turns out that he is in Boston, alive, well, and prospering, and a curiosity to the medical profession.—Davenport ( Iowa ) Democrat

The Iron Currency of Lycurgus.

First he stopped the currency of the gold and silver coin, and ordered that they should make use of iron money only; then to a great quantity of -weight of this he assigned but a very small value;'so that to layup ten minse (about sl6) a whole room was required, and to remove it nothing less than a yoke of oxen. When this became current many kinds of injustice ceased in Laced umon. Who would steal or take a bribe, who would defraud or rob when he cduld not conceal the booty—when he could neither be dignified by the possession of it, nor, if cut in pieces, be served by its use ? For we are told that, when hot, they quenched it in vinegar to make it brittle and unmalleable, and consequently unfit for other use.— Plutarch's Lives. Miss Kate Field definitely declares that women primarily dress fro please themselves, and the additional adornment is sometimes put on lor male admiration.

GEMS OF THE ORIENT.

,«\ 1 1 ' Three Bethels of Diamonds Found Inside an Idol. The history of the gems in the East is the.history of the governing Prinoes, i for so often has the course of history in the Orient been affected by intrigues about preoions stones that they assume a state important. The traditional diamond in the East is the Great Mogul. The original weight of this stone was 787 carats, but by cutting it was reduced to 297 carats. The stone disappeared at the last Tartar invasion, whenfltreasnres to the value of $350,000,000 were captured by the Nadir Shah. It is believed to be at present hidden away in some obsenre fortress in Asia Minor, and it may be recovered at some fntnre time. Some idea of the abundance of precious stones in the East may be gained from the faot that when Mahmoud, in the eleventh centnry, captured Sumnat, an idol statue was broken open and found to contain three bushels of diamonds, rabies, and emeralds. Ala-ud-deen obtained from the Bajah of Mahrattas fifty ponnds of diamonds and rubies, and 175 pounds of pearls. Shah Jehan, the greatest of the Mogul sovereigns, left a treasure of incalculable value at his death, a throne valued at $30,000,000, and a crown worth $12,000,000. The throne was the celebrated peacock throne, so called from the images of two peacocks which stood before it s each made of precious stones so matched in color and in position as to resemble tho natural colors of the bird. The throne was six feet long and four feet wide, of solid gold and ernsted with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Steps of silver led up to it, While a canopy of gold fringed with pearls, supported by twelve pillars emblazoned with gems, surmounted the whole. On each side was a saored umbrella made of velvet, embroidered with pearls, the handle being of solid gold inlaid with diamonds. It was the most costly Work of art ever made. Its only rival was the cerulean throne of the house of Bahmeuee in the Nisam. This was built in the* 1 seventeenth century, was nine feet long by three feet wide, was made of ebony covered with plates of gold crusted with gems, and was valued at $20,000,000. A late traveler in the East, Mr. Eastwick, has recently given a graphic account of the magnificence of the Persian Crown jewels. In the jewel room he found treasures valued at $35,000,000, among them the crown, a mass of diamonds surmounted by a ruby as big as a hen’s egg. The King’s belt is a wonder of barbaric magnificence, weighing about twenty pounds, and composed of a solid mass of diamonds, rabies, and emeralds. As Persia is the native land of the turqnois, it is but natural that the finest stones of this description is to be found in its collection. This royal specimen is fonr inches long, perfect in color, and without a flaw. When the Shah was in Europe, some years ago, he wore a variety of diamonds and other precious stones that kept the detectives in a constant fever of fear lest he should be robbed of some of them, for one, even of the smallest, would have been a fortune for a half dozen thieves. The buttons of his coat were five in number, and each button was a diamond larger than the Kohinoor, while every part of his clothing seemed to be useful, not as a covering for his body, but as places to hang diamonds on. —Auqastus Hamiin, in “Leisure Hours Among the Gems."

What Do the Chinese Eat?

When I was at Lake View in August last, at the New England Assembly, and having a “real nice time” telling the children about China in the headquarters of the C. Y. F. R. U., one day I was accosted by a bright little girl who wished to “know what people ate in China, and whether those dreadful stories about eating rats were true.” I answered as well as a few words would serve me, but did not satisfy the curiosity of the eager inquirer. Later I devoted a half hour to talking about the “Daily Food of the Chinese” to some forty boys and girls, and here I repeat the matter for the sake of others curious to learn the truth—trusting a little natural indignation and plain speaking may be excused me. Americans are fond of wonderful stories. Nothing pleases them more than to hear something revolting or strange about other people. Nations and races who resemble themselves are not worth attention. Hence travelers —knowing fellows, all of them—possibly find it profitable to startle them with accounts as marvelous as they are salsa Not that these accounts are always wholly untrue, but that solitary instances and occurrences are magnified to represent habits and customs of a whole people. Belonging to this class of accounts are those relative to the use as food in China of certmn animals. I find that Americans believe that dog soup, cat fricassee, and rat a la mode are dishes to be found daily on every table in the Empire. Tha fact is that there are some peculiar people in China as elsewhere, credulous, superstitious, and some of those believe that the flesh of those animals I have mentioned possess medical properties. For instance, some silly women believe that the flesh of rats restores the hair. Some believe that dog-meat and also cat-meat renews the blood, and quacks often prescribe it. Then it is also that there are very poor neople who have no money to buy proper food, and therefore subsist on what they can get, rather than starve. But I have lived fifteen years of my life in China, and have had experience at public banquets, social dinners, and ordinary meals, and in company with all classes of people; but I have never seen cat, dog, or rats in any form whatever. “ What, then, do the Chinese eat ?” Our gardens are prodigal with vegetables; out ponds, rivers, and lakes swarm with fish; our farm-yards are crowded with pigs, land fowls, ducks, and geese ; our fields are gilded three times a year with ripen ng rice. In some sections of the Empire wheat and barley are produced; but rice is our usual substitute foj* bread. These articles make up the every-day food of the people. But there are certain thihgs unknown to our young people that are considered great delicacies by everybody, one of which I have told you about already—edible" bird’s-nests. . *■ •

Another is sharks’ fin*. The Chinese keep very few cows, and It is true tbit beef is not esteemed as good as pork, and that many trill not eat beef on account of religious scruples. Milk, butter, and cheese are almost unknown articles of diet. The Chinese think it is robbing the calves to take the milk from the cows.— The Wide Awake.

Some Views on Flirtation and Platonic Lore.

If a fellow felt quite sure that he would be deolined when he proposed, what a lot of innocent fun we might have. But that is not the nature ot things. But between the danger of being grabbed np and the danger ol being nut ont, the present young gentleman’s position is altogether a profoundly uncomfortable one. I was once on the most delightful of terms, with a young lady. We laid down a basis of neutrality. Flirtation, freedom, and friendship were the mottoes. We got along swimmingly. She flirted with other fellows, and I —well —I was supposed to be free to flirt with other girls. I nevor kicked, but she objected to my paying somebody else attention, and—well—l had to give in. Having thoroughly conquered me, she went ofl and married somebody else, and everybody condoled with me on {getting left. I make no more compacts. Then there’s that confounded arrangement known as platonio love. Platonic love is a relation in which both parties are on the defensive. It is a condition intermediary between happiness and misery. When you are platonically related to a girl you are in a constant worry in case she is in love with somebody else, while you hope to goodness she is not so far gone on you as to expect you to marry her. The plantonic relation is one created to minister to the emotional, as distinct from the matrimonial wants of human nature. It satisfies the craving all men and women have to hug one another without responsibility and without prejudice. It is eternally selfish. It really allows nothing to the other party. It serves to fill up the gaps between the fits of grand passion. Of course, I know that people who believe in platonic love will say it is nothing of the kind; that if is based on liking and respect, and all sorts of pure things. All the same, if you will excuse me, I and not going to confide my future happiness to a young lady who has a platonio affection for any other young man. There is nothing in which theory and practice are so widely different as platonic love. I know it.—“Understone,” in San Francisco Chronicle .

Mrs. Adam’s Good Luck.

A lady writer furnishes some of the reasons why Eve did not keep a hired girl. She says there has been a great deal said about the faults of women and why they need so much waiting on. Some one (a man of course) has the presumption to ask why, when Eve was manufactured out of a spare rib, a servant was not made at the same time to wait on her. She didn’t need any. A bright writer has said: Adam never came whining to Eve with a ragged stocking to be darned, buttons to be sewed on, gloves to be mended “right away—quick, now.” He never read the newspapers till the sun went down behind the palm trees and then, stretching himself, yawned out: “Is supper ready yet, my dear?” Wot he. He made the fire and hung the kettle over it himself, we’ll venture, and pulled the radishes, peeled the potatoes, and did everything else he ought to do. He milked the cows and fed the chickens, and looked after the pigs himself, and never brought home half a dozen friends to dinner when Eve hadn’t any fresh pomegranates. He never stayed out till 11 oclock at night, and then scolded because Eve was sitting up and crying inside the gates. He never called Eve up from the cellar to put away his slippers. Not he. When he took them off he put them under the fig tree beside his Sunday boots. In short, he did not think that she was especially created for the purpose of waiting upon him, and he wasn’t under the impression that it disgraced a man to lighten a wife’s cares a little. That’s the reason Eve did not need a hired girl, and with it is the reason that many of her descendants do.—Exchange. 9 '

Crossing the Pasture.

Mr. J. A. S. Monk’s etching, “Crossing the Pasture,” which is given to all subscribers to the Magazine of Art for 1885, is as tempting a bait as a publisher ever heild out to an art-loving publio. Mr. Monks’ water-color drawing, from which he made this etohing, was recently exhibited in the National Academy of Design, where it attracted a gret deal of attention and praise. In the etching the effect of color is wonderfully well given, and to a certain extent the work of the needle is more pleasing than that of the brush. The feeling of twilight is caught with more success in the etching, and the peculiar quality of the sheep’s wool is shown with great fidelity. There is a great deal of charming sentiment in this picture, which, when appropriately framed, will be an attraction to any wall, or in a portfolio, will honor any collection. —Cassell £ Company, New York. When Prof. Nordenskjold was in Japan, after he had made the northeast passage, his attention was drawn to the very rich literature of that country prior to European influence. He decided to collect and take home a Japanese library. He bought between 4,000 and 5,000 volumes, which are now in the Royal Library at Stockholm. M. Leon de Rosny, professor at the School of Oriental Languages in Paris, has Just catalogued the Nordenskjold collection, which he says contains nearly all the works of any prominence, and furnishes complete materials for-the study of Japanese literature and culture. The area of the British Empire is estimated at teh millions'of square miles, or one-fifth of the habitable globe,with a coast line of 28,500 miles The population in the countries directly or indirectly under British control was computed at 315,000,000, of all religions and nationalities. , . O. R. Talmage, of Savannah, has invented a machine that he is confident will navigate the air without any difficulty. He calls it a steam "bird.

I began to court Miranda Gray. Miranda had been eddicated at Vassar, and her sadly illiterate father was mtenslyqSroud of her. Alas, that Miranda did not always reciprocate this pride. No doubt education ia a fine thing, but it very often educates children to be ashamed of their less fortunate parents’ gaucheriesi Miranda had frequent reasons to blush at her parents’ —candor of expression—let us call it It was a custom, in the good old times—a custom more honored in the breach than the observance, aa all lovers of tender age will agree—for the young fellow who went sparking to “set up” and talk with the old folks for awhile, and then, at a certain hour, sheepishly retire to the parlor at the beck of his blushing inamorata. Father Gray was a true bine of the old school, who liked to see “what kind of a chap war a sparkin’ his darter Mirandy." So every night I visited Miranda I had to run the gauntlet of at least two hours’ talk with the old man. The talk was neither instructive, amusing, nor elevating. There is no doubt spavins, hogs, manures, and pumpkins are engrossing subjects to some, but scarcely to a lover burning with impatience to hug a blushing expectant maiden to his palpitating Chineselaundried bosom for all he is worth. And then when things are spoken of in a matter-of-fact way, which before school may have seemed perfectly right and natural, but which Yassar and Yale have taught them should be like Hades, never mentioned to ears polite, it becomes sometimes extremely embarrassing. For instance, Farmer Gray, like the ignorant boor that he was, could never

be brought by Miranda to speak of the tumor on the animal’s limb, but persisted in talking vulgarly of a spavin on the mare’s leg. Then when Miranda would begin to expatiate on the lovely appendix of the pea-fowl* the coarse old man would try to be witty, and ask, if “that air last war a new kind of bird.” He could never see how much more genteel and proper it was to speak of incubating eggs than hatohing, and thought manure just as good a word as fertilizer. And so it went. I remember once, it was about the time our riflemen went over to England, and kicked the spots out of the British, that Miranda was entertaining me with a sweet account of how much oftener our men had been able to shoot into the eyes of the gentleman cow than the English, when the old man broke in with one of his reminiscences. i “I don’t call that air shootin’ much ’count. I remember onct —old Muley had just come in with her fust calf—l saw a chap, one of them Injin doctors that could hit the bull’s eye every time he tuk aim. Ha! Ha! Ha! That war the same chap that old Towser got arter onct, and tuk Sway the whole seat of his pants, so ’the bed to skip through the town boldin’ on his coat-tails. It war a terrible windy day, an’ I tell ye it war a sight.” The old man was constantly making just such sad breaks as this into our refined and cultured conversation. On such occasions Miranda blushed rosy, I ditto. Neither of us wanted to catch the other’s eye, but both wanted to see how it affected the other, and our efforts to look one way and seem to look the other, made the scene more ridiculous than ever. And all the time the old fool would sit there as unconcerned as a graven image, with the placidly superior expression on his face of one who thinks he has said something smart, and “tuk down that air eddicated feller a peg.” I appeal to any intelligent man, woman, Or child if forbearance under such circnmstances would not cease to be a virtue. If it had only happened once there would have been no growling, but when it occurred every time, it became unbearable. Miranda was just as sweet as she could be, and I loved her with whole, unbleached, full-width, 18-karat affection, but, really, I could not go her father. So ended our love. Died of father-in-law. Miranda—peace to her ashes—is now the fat, freckled mother of three candidates for the penitentiary, and I am still on the lookout for a pretty girl with a pair of deaf and dumb parents. Shouldn’t care if the girl was dumb too.— -Peck’s Sun.

How Rover Saved the Cows.

A gentleman who lives among the Catskills owns a bright and powerful Newfoundland dog. called Hover. Of large and commanding stature, Rover has a kindly eye and is one of the most intelligent beasts in the country. One Sunday last winter, when the family returned from DeckertQwn, where they had been attending church, Bover did not greet them as was his invariable custom. The members of the family were quick to notice his absence. A f ter they had been but a short time in the house, they were startled by the low baying of Bover; and, on opening the door, the dog rushed in on them, and, going over to where Mr. Titsworth stood, he looked up appealingly in his face, and gave utterance to low sounds of distress and tugged at his master’s coat. At Mrs. Titsworth’s suggestion, a lantern was procured and Bover was followed to the stables, where five cows had been yoked together in their stalls. A heavy beam had fallen out of its sockets; and the cows, when found, were all prostrated with this beam over their necks. A few hours more, and the whole number would have perished. They were speedily liberated from their perilous condition.— Anon.

Chestnut Harvesting in China.

“Water chestnuts,” too (eaten by the" old lake-dwellers in Switzerland), are largely grown. Every canal is full of floating islands of them; and the gathering must look like that picture in this year's Grosvenor of “Athelney in Flood,” where young and old are going about after the apples in boats. Instead of boats; put tubs, each pushed with bamboo poles by a yellow man or woman, and paint two or three upsets, for John Chinaman is full of fun, and* those who have seen a water-chestnut harvesting say that everybody is on tho broad grin, and accepts a ducking with the same good humor with which be gives one.— All the Year Bound. A good thing to oil —Sardines. .

PTTH AND POINT.

Not a Bostonfamina , A new way to pay old debts —pay them. It requires two fools to make a successful newspaper paragraph—one to write and the other to laugh at it. Carl Pretzel’B Weekly. He—My dear, we must discharge the coachman. She —But we haven’t any daughter. He —Not yet, but we may have, and I’m not going to take any risk.—Progress. “How boES the milk get into the cocoanut?” asks a subscriber. It does not get in at aIL The cocoanut grows around the milk. Ask us a hard one. — Burlington Hawkeye. A Vermont man thinks he has at last found -the location of the Garden of Eden. It is in the Maniton Island, Miohigan, which are without saloon, doctor, or lawyer. — Burlington Free Press. The law can never make a man honest. But sometimes, however, it makes him deucedly uncomfortable when he is dishonest and gets caught in his thieving practices. — Carl Pretzel’s Weekly. “How are you coming out in your parish?” asked an Episcopal Bishop of one of his rectors. The rector who Was a speculator in cotton before he became converted, lifted up his eyes aud said: “I am long on slippers and book marks, but rather short on suspenders.”— Texas Siftings. WOMANCE AND WEAIiTX. He raised his eye to heaven. Said he: ‘‘What can I do To prove trne to you That 11l be twen , Forever, dear, with fihoda?" She raised her eyes to his’n. “Well, let me see,” said she, “You’re very kernel, If yon don’t meind, A glass of lemon soda.” —Life.

During the Franco-Chinese war in 1860 there appeared a cartoon representing a number of Chinese soldiers arranged in single file, each bestowing a kick on the man in front. Appended were these words: “Tne Emperor of China establishing a line of communication which enables him to testify to his generals his august displeasure.”— Charivari. At a wine party of young men at one of the colleges, notes ol apology were handed in from two of the proposed guests, who were unable to attend, owing to the death of their father. A young gentleman, heir to a considerable property, who had been partaking freely of the hospitalities of the festive board, suddenly burst into tears. "Was this dear old gentleman a friend of yours ?” asked the sympathetic host. “No, no, it’s not that,” sobbed the guest; “only—l was just thinking—everybody’s father dies but mine 1” A Hoxbury lady recently employed a washerwoman who came well recommended, and who soon made herself very agreeable. Mrs. S ’s front name is Annie, while the washerwoman bears the name of Sarah. Monday Sarah reported for work, and during the forenoon Mrs. S., who happened to be in the kitchen, said: “I guess I shall have to oall you Sarah hereafter, Mrs. M., it is so much shorter." “All right, mam, do, and I may oall you Annie. It come natural I used to work with an Annie years ago." Tableau.—Roxbury Advocate. There are losses which people suffer unconsciously, like that sustained by the geologist who hired a Scotch gillie to carry his bag of specimens across the mountains. “It was a heavy load, and just nothing hut stone,” said Donald relating his experience to a friend, “and I was not fool enough to drag the pebbles a guid ten miles. I just emptied the bag before I started, and filled it at the cairn I last came to, aud the gentleman was just as pleased.” The unlucky geologist was doubtless puzzled by the contents of the bag when he came to examine it later. “Does the man rush ?” “Yes, he is a rusher." “Why does he hurry along the street in that fashion ? Perhaps his house is afire.” “Perhaps he never had one. That man is a lawyer, who probably makes $lO a week. When he leaves his office he puts up a sign: ‘Back in three minutes; please wait!’ ” “But why does he rush!” “To make people think he is carrying the Supreme Court under his hat.” “Wouldn’t some of his creditors tackle him on the street if he didn’t put on so much steam?” “K’rect, my boy! You might guess a thousand times and not hit the nail any closer!” — Detroit Free Press.

AN AWFUL WASHING. Though little William often heard, He would not heed his mother’s word And seemed to think It no disgraoe To have such dirty bands and fsoe; In vain his mother’s stern ormmands— He would not wash his face and hands, And oft his mother wept to see Her William could so dirty bb. v One bflght and genial autumn day. As little William was at play. A garbage wagon came that way. An awful man, with hoe and spade, Scraped up poor William where he played. *‘l am a boy,” poor William cried—“Oh, no, you’re not,” the man replied, “You are a mass of dirt and mud” — So, with a dull and sickening thud Into the cart he dumped the child, Despite his protestatlohs wild; And William’s dirty hands and faoo Were never aftcff a disgrace To William’s home and friends, I ween For William never more was seen I

A Lying Crowd.

“Where were you when the first Bhot was fired?” asked- an Austin lawyer of a female witness in a shooting scrape. • “I was lying down on the sofa.” . “And where was your husban^?" “He was lying down on the back gallery.” “And where were your children ?” “They were all lying on the bed fast asleep.” “Any other members of your family lying down?” “Not that I know of, but if my brother had been there he would have been lying down in the court house. He is a lawyer like you.”— Texas Siftings.

It Covers a Grest Deal of Ground.

Bev. Newman Hall has attained approximate idea of thd size of this country. He said in conversation, while op the Sagnenay; “I had no idea of the enormous extent of the country, until, after traveling westward 1,000 miles at least, I came to St Louis, when I was dumbfounded on being asked if I intended to ‘go west’ ” —Boston Globe.