Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 May 1885 — Page 2

~ —* —-I »' TUf TRIBUTE TO THE “MINOTAUR.” ...."’Twin thus I dreamed,” said my friend to me. ■"More girte for Muotaur!” Said ho. But whore. Mid I, is the g«lley fair. With gilded oar, the wave d.Tiding, And mast onwroathe,l with ro.-ea rare Tween banks of blossomed myrtio gliding?.... Its hapless freight their Md eyes hiding—"By «lfferent routes," sajd my Ifriend to me, **Xt>ey travel—all Wide-awakol" said ho. But. where, said I. Is the high-walled town, its cruel gates behind them closing. Its deaf, white tenlples looking down On the pale victims, somi> reposing. In terror’s death like stupor dozing? **Hie cities (Jkeg leave,” said my friend to me, "Are built in a different style,” said he. And where, said E, is the monster's own All-hideous den? with black steps leading Op 'neath the gloomy arch of stone? With foul an i flapping vultures feeding— Where is that horrib.e place exo.'oding? "In a brown-stone front." said my friend to me, ■“M. Taur, E quire, lives now," said he. What, said I, is the man-beast’s guise? Joins he to glorious form celestial Hot bellowing mouth, and mad brute eyes, And curled ferocious forehead bestla,?— ’ Loath lies t of all on globe terrestrial I “Poole makes his coats,” said my friend to me, "And Sanders and Johnson his hats,” said he. And oh I said I. yon de'icate maidß, In happy homes long fondly tended. So fair beneath their glinting brads. So young, so meek all undefended— Must they in merciless maw be rended? ""You’re behind the times,” said my friend to me; "He doesn't eat ’em now,” said he, "As did the original old M. T. He'll mnrry one of the lot —'twill bo THie match of the season, decidedly. , . „ .The rest?—they'll be picked up, don’t you ree. By friends of Taury, presently; And they’ll all have out trousseaux from Worth,” said he — -Editor's Drawer, in Harper’s Magazine.

A NEAT JOB.

A Burglar’s Story,* My profession isn’t a popular one. There’s considerable prejudice against it. I don’t myself think it’s much worse than a good many ‘ others. However, that’s nothing to do with my story. Some years ago, me and the gentleman who was at that time connected with me in business —he's met with reverses since then, and at present isn’t able to get out —was looking around for a job, being at that time rather hard up, as you might say. We struck a small country town —I ain’t a goin’ to give it away by telling where it was, or what the name of it was. There was one bank there; the President was a rich old duffer; owned the mills, owned the bank, owned most of the town. There wasn’t no other officer but the Cashier, and they had a boy who used to sweep out and run of errands. The bank was on the main street, pretty Well up one end of it—nice, snug place.on the corner of a cross street,with nothing very near it. We took our observations, and there was no trouble at all abont it. There was an old Stoughton bottle of a watchman that wa.ked up and down the street nights, when he didn’t fall asleep and forget it. The vault had two doors; tho outside one was chilled iron and had a three-wheel combination lock; the inner door wasn’t no door at all; you could kick it open. It didn’t pretend tp be nothing but fireproof, and wasn’t even that. The first thing we done, of course, was to fit a key to the outside door. A s the lock on the outside door was an old-fashioned "Bacon lock, “any gentleman in my profession who chanoes to read that article will know just how easy that job was, and how we down it. I may say here that the gentlemen in my line of business, having at times a good doal of leisure on their hands, do considerable reading, and are particularly fond of a ceat bit of writing. In fact, in this way of literature I have found among ’em—--however, this being a digression I drop it and go on with the main job again. This was onr plan: After the key was fitted I was to go into the bank, and Jim—that wasn’t his name, of oourse, but let it pass —was to keep watch on the outside. When any one passed he was to tip me a whistle, and then I doused the glim and laid low. After they got by I goes on again. Simple and easy, yon see. Well, the night we selected the President happened to be out of town—gone down to the city, as he often did. I got inside all right, with a slide lantern, a breast drill, a small jimmy, a bunch of skeleton keys, and a green baize bag to stow tho swag. I fixed my light and rigged my breast drill, and got to work on the door right over the lock. Probably a great many of your readers is not so well posted as me about bank locks, and, I may say for them, that a three-wheel combination lock bas three wheels in it and a slot in each wheel. In order to unlock the door you bave to get the three slots opposite to each other at the top of the lock. Of course if yon know the number the lock is set on you can do this, but if you don’t yon have to depend on yonr . ingenuity. There is in each of these a small hole, through which you put a wire through the back of the lock when you change the combination. Now, if you can bore a hole through the door and pick up those wheels by running a wire through those holes, why yon can open the door. I hope I make myself clear. I was boring that hole. The door was chilled iron, about the neatest stuff I ever worked on. I went on steady enough;only stopped when Jim —which, as I said, wasn’t his real name —whistled outside, and the watchman toddled by. By and by, when I’d got pretty nearly through, Jim, so to speak, whistled again. I stopped, and pretty soon I heard footsteps outside, and I’m d—l mean blowed—if they •didn’t come right up to the bank steps, and I heard a key in the lock. I was ao dnmfounded when I heard that, that you could have slipped the bracelets right on me. I picked up my lantern, and 111 be banged if I didn’t let the ' , slide slip down and throw the light right onto the door, and there was the President Instead of calling for help, as I supposed he would, he took a step inside the door, and shaded his eyes with his hand and looked at me. ] knowed I ought to knook him down and cut out, but I’m blest if I could, 1 was that surprised. “Who are you?" says he. “Who are you?" says I, thinking that was an innocent remark, os he com- ... V .

menced it, and a-trying all the dime to colleot myself. * “I’m the President of tho bank,” says he, kinder short. “Something the matter with the lock?” “By George!" The idba cpme to me then. “Yes, sir,” says I, touching my cap. .“Mr. Jennings, he telegraphed this morning the lock was out of order and ho couldn't get in, and I’m come on to open it for him.” “I told Jennings a week ago,” ho, “that he ought to get that fixed. Whore is he?” . J “He’s been a-writing letters, and{liVs gone up to'his house to get another letter he wanted to answer.” “Well, why don’t you go right on?” says he. “I’ve got almost through,” says I, “and I didn’t want to finish up and open the vault till there was somebody here.” “That’s very creditable to you,” says he. “A very proper sentiment, my man. You can’t,” he goes on, coming round by the dopr, “be too particular about avoiding the very of evil.” “No, sir,” says I, kinder modest like. “Wliatdo you suppose is the matter with the lock?” 'says he. “I don’t rightly know yet,” says I; “but I rather think it’s a little wore on account of not being oiled enough. These ’ere locks ought to be oiled about once a year.” “Well,” says he, “you might as well go right on, now I am here; I will stay till Jennings conies. Can’t I help you? Hold your lantern, or something of that sort?" The thought came to me like a flash, aDd I turned around and says: “How do I know you’re the President? I ain’t e ver seen you afore, and you may be a-trying to crack the bank for all I know.” “That’s a very proper inquiry, my man,” says he, “and shows a most remarkable degree of direction. I confess that I should have thought of tho position in which I. was placing you. However, I can easily convince you that it's all right. Do you know what the President's name is?” „ “No, I don't,” says I, sorter surly. “Well, you'll find it on that bill,” said he, taking a bill out of his pocket, “and you see the same name on these letters,” and he took some letters from his coat. I suppose I ought to have gone right on then, but I was beginning to leel interested in making him prove who he was, so I says: “You might have got them letters to ppt up a job on me.” “You’re a very honest man,” says he, “one among a thousand. Don’t think I’m at all offended at your persistence. No my good fellow. I like it, I like it,” and he laid his hand on my shoulder. “Now, here,” says he, taking a bundle out of his pocket, “is a package of $lO,000 in bonds, A burglar wouldn't be apt to carry those around With him, would he? I bought them in the city yesterday, and I stopped here to-night on my way home.to place them in the vault, and, I may add, that your simple and manly honesty has so touched me that I would willingly leave them in your hands for safe keeping. You needn’t blush at my praise.” I suppose I did turn sorter red when I see them bonds. “Are you satisfied now?” said hq, I told him I was thoroughly, and so I was. So I picked up my drill again and give him the lantern to hold, so that I cbuld see the door. I heard Jim, as I call him. ontside once or twice, and I like to have burst out laughing, thinking how he must be wondering what was going on inside. I worked away and kept explaining to him what I was a-trying to do. He was very much interested in mechanics, he said, and he knowed as I was a man up in my business by the way I went to work. He asked me about what wages I got, and how I liked my business, and said he’d took quite a fancy to me. I turned around once in a while and looked at him a-setting up there as solemn as a biled owl, with a dark lantern in his blessed hand, and I’m blamed if I didn’t think I should have to holler right out. I got through the lock pretty soon, and put in my wire and opened it. Then he took hold of the door and opened the vault. “I’ll put my bonds in,” says he, “and go home. You can lock up .and wait till Mr. Jennings comes. I don’t suppose you will try to fix the lock tonight?” I told him I shouldn’t do anything more with it now, as we could get in before morning. “Well, I’ll bid you good night, my man,” says he, as I swung the door to again. Just then I heard Jim, by name, whistle, and I guessed the watchman was a-coming up the street. . “Ah,” says I, “you might speak to the watchman, if you see him, and tell him to keep an extra lookout tonight.” “I will,” says he, and we both went to the front door. “There comes the watchman up the street,” says I. “Watchman, this man has been fixing the bank lock, and I want you to keep a sharp lookout to-night. He will stay here until Mr. Jennings’ return.” “Good night, again,” says he, and we shook hands, and he went up the street. I saw Jim, so-called, in the shadow on the other side of the street, as I stood on the step with the watchman. “Well,” says I to the watchman, “I’ll go and pick up my tools and get ready to go.” I went back into the bank, and it didn’t take long to throw the door open and staff them bonds into the bag. There was some boxes lying aronnd and a safe, I should rather have liked to tackie, but it seemed like tempting Providence after the luck we’d had. I looked at my watch and see it was just 12:15. There was an expre-s went through at 12:30. I tucked my tools with the bag on top of the- bonds and walked out to the front door. The watchman was on the steps. “I don’t believe I’ll waik for Mr. Jennings.” says I “I suppose it will be all right if I give you this key." “That’s says the watchman. “I won’t go away very far from the bank,” says L. “No, I wouldn’t,” says* he, "I’ll stay right abont here all night."

“Good night,” says I,’ and 1 shook hands,with him, and me and Jim—which wasn't fhis right you understand—toojk the 12:30 express, and the host part of that job vtas. \i g. ■never heard nothing of it. *. It never got ifito the papers. —lnter Ocean.

A Young Man, Attention.

13oys, let us have a sensible talk about life. Why is it that Society insists that woman shall be pure, and does not care iPman. as a rule, stifles his moral nature and,- as the world terms it, “sows a few wild oats ?’’ When will the hell of progress ring out the false notion that our boys shall have liberty and license and our girls hardly have a chance to earn their daily bread and be respected. The harvest time is sure to* come and with it the fruit of our doing. Young map, when you get ready to settle down in life and have a home of your own, son will choose a companion. If you have led a pure life you are worthy of a good woman’s love If not, how dare you ask a pure-minded woman to share yonr lot, to be the mother of your children, who will, perhaps, bring her trouble and sorrow through inherited vices and the evil consequences of your life, that may sadden the home hearth for generations to come.

Then consequences of onr acts are too lightly regarded by many, but it is of the most vital importance that our influence should be pure and elevating, else life is a failure. Boys, begin when you are young to do right from principle, as soon as you really understand right from wrong. Don’t wait until you are men, to be true to the best that lies in you. When you have reached thoughtful boyhood, take an inventory of yoiirselves; then count up and see how much you are worth, Bemember that only sterling virtues count. Then try to decrease the evil and encourage and build up all that is true, noble, and and useful in your character. To-day is your opportunity. The present, whicn will soon be your past, will bring its happy or painlnl memories. Don’t wade through folly and vice until satiated, and'in very disgust you give them up and choose the right way. “Better late than never,” I grant; but oh! the scars we have take with us if we sin, and they are always making us think of “what might have been.” Boys, don’t wade through the mire and slough of sin, only to find it does not pay in any sense. You will do well to aim to have every thought pure. We cannot see good things if our thoughts are evil. God’s gifts are for us to use, not abuse. You should feel ashamed to do anything you would dislike to have your sister do. Every true mother delights in a trueminded, conscientious boy. He is the promise of a noble manhood and an honor to her. Yqur'mu3t preach the true gospel of savingyourself, and help others to the right way by the elevating influence of your life, and thus show to every one that the right way is the best and most pleasant for boys and men. —Phrenological Journal.

How Dickens was Euchred.

Charles Dickens was addicted to the habit of not enriching anybody with anything, unless he got full value for it, with a liberal bonus for his loss of time, and 50 per cent, profit on the original investment Queen Victoria is the only person, who can claim to have gotten ahead of him. In a moment of vanity, he allowed himself to be interviewed in 1876 by Her Britanic Majesty—John Brown having graciously given his consent, we suppose—and it is pleasing to note that she fairly euchred Mr. Boz at his own game. It will be remembered that the Queen, without any assistance from anybody, once perpetrated a book called her journal, which is described by the few who read it to be a horrible jumble of inanities, being in fact nothing but royal dishwater. Its principal readers are the inmates of English charity hospitals, to whose sufferings an additional pang is thus added. We think, however, that tho patient who was compelled to read the book would be most certain to recover—damages from an honest jury, for the sufferings he underwent. When Victoria interviewed Dickens, she graciously remarked, pre-‘ senting him with an entirely new copy of her journal, that she wpuld like very much to have a set of his works. Instead of Dickens asking her Majesty to shell out the usual pTice, he said it would afford him much bliss to make the swap, without asking anything to boot, but the sadness that came over his features justified the fear that he was suffering from a tooth with an exposed nerVe. He thougllt, no doubt, that she might, at least, have thrown in an Indian shawl, or a ducal coronet or so, for good weight. She inadvertantly forgot to do so; those princely gifts being only held out as lures to prospective sons-in-law, and as Dickens was not eligible, he got nothing except the journal in exchange for a set of works, which had a real market value. Whenever anybody obtains any advantages over Queen Victoria, the day will be marked by an extremely low temperature.—Texas. Siftings.

Cholera.

Cholera cannot make a sea voyage of twenty days. If we could not cross the ocean from Europe in less time cholera would never reach uiß, There are unfavorable land routes. Cholera never gets over deserts which require more than twenty days for caravans to cross. South America enjoyed exemjy-t-ion from cholera until 1854, when fast sailing vessels carried it from Philadelphia to Bio Janeiro, and a terrible epidemic was the result. Cholera makes the most remarkable jumps. The soil and its moisture play a principal part in starting epidemics. Clay soil in relatively dry conditions is most likely to assist outbreaks of cholera,—Fax - '

Texas Society.

“And old Judge Smith?” inquired the .visitor of the Texas man. “He occupies a pominent place among our best people,* replied the Texan. “Isn’t he in the grave-yard yet ?” • “Yes, that’s were most of our best people are.”— Puck. Preston Countv, West Virginia, boasts of a five-legged two-tailed horse.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

Reminiscences of His Life in the Town Which Bears His Name. This little city, writes a Lincoln, IIi*1Tno"&, correspondent to thei St Louis Globe-Democrat, which bears Lincoln’s na:no< was not laid off until the year 1853,- but the county sea,t of this (Logan) county was established and located at Postville as early as 1837, and there it was that Lincoln became Yuownsto the Indents of this county. Postville’ was about one mile west of where the court-house now stands, and now is a part of the city of Lincoln, and is generally known as the Fourth ward.

The court-house and the hotel opposite, built in 1837, are still standing, the former in a good state of repair, used as a residence, while athe latter is a tenement-house in the full sense of the word, containing a number of families, some of which turn an honest penny occasionally by pointing out to visitors “Lincoln’s room.” For it was in this house that Lincoln often stopped when practicing in this county. Postville was then a small village, and the attorneys came here from Bloomington and Springfield by stage coach, or on horseback. Many of the men who were then young attorneys are still living and occupying high positions in their profession and in the politics of the country, while many have died after acquiring state and national reputations. Among those livings and who is fond of telling a-“ Lincoln story,” is Hon. S. O. Parks, of this city. He is now one of the associate justices of the Supreme Court of Wyoming. He .relates the following story characteristic of the acts that won for Lincoln the sobriquet of “Honest Abe At one term of court in Postville a man named Hoblit had brought suit against a man named Farmer. The suit had been appealed from a justice of (he peace, and Lincoln knew nothing of it until he was retained by Hoblit to try the case in the circuit court. G. A. Gridky, then of Bloomington, appeared for the defendent. Judge Treat, now on the United States bench, was the presiding judge at the trial. Lincoln’s client went upon the witness-stand and testified to the account he had against the defendant, gave the amount due after allowing all credits and set-offs, and swore positively that it had not been paid. The attorney for the defendant simply produced a receipt in full, signed by Hoblit, prior to the beginning of the case. Hoblit had to admit the signing of the receipt, but told Lincoln he supposed the man had lost it. Lincoln at once arose and left tho court-room. The judge told them to proceed with the case, and, Lincoln not appearing, Judge Treat told a bailiff to go to the hotel and call him. The bailiff ran across the street to< the hotel and found Lincoln sitting in the office with his feet on the stove, apparently in a deep study, when he interrupted him with: “Mr. Lincoln, the judge wants you.” “Oh, does he?” replied Lincqln. “Well, you go back and tell the judge I cannot come. Tell him I have to wash my hands,” The bailiff returned with the message, and Lincoln’s client suffered a nonsuit.

Lincoln came to this county a few times after the removal of the county seat to Lincoln, and for one case be tried here he received as a fee a deed to a lot on the south side of the square. The lot he never sold, but it is leased to a man who hais a wagon factory on it. Secretary Lincoln collects the rent through an agent here, and has never expressed a desire to sell it, although it would now bring a good price. During tno campaign last fall when the train bearing Gen. Logan and party passed through here Secretary Lincoln spoke briefly at the depot, and said he would always kindly remember the little city that bore his father’s name.

How the Crofters Live.

I will describe a typical Idrigil bouse, which is occupied by the aged daughter and three grown-up grandchildren of a fisherman named John Macdonald, who has been dead for many years. The croft upon which it stands slopes southward toward the bay of Uig, and is one of some 350 that belong to Maj. Fraser, of Ivilmur. It is about two and a half acres in extent,and pays a nominal rental of rather more than $5; a temporary reduction of 25 per cent, oft' that sum having, however, been oonceded during the last two or three years by the proprietor. Near the center of the croft is a sea of sticky mud; and amid the slough are two very small stacks of corn, each about nine feet high by six in diameter, carefully thatched, and covered with old nests to prevent their being scattered to the winds. Close at hand is the house —a building of rough, unmortared stone, measuring perhaps ten feet by twenty, and very thickly robfed; first with “divits” of turf, then with a close thatch of heather, and finally with fragments of coarse netting weighted witn lumps of gray trap. The doer is broken and wili not shut properly ; there is no chimney ; and the sole window, consisting of a single pane of glass, has an area of not more than three square feet. From the doorway, and from a small hole in the low roof, volumes of peat smoke escape; and when 1 entered the hut I could not for several minutes distinguish anything within, owing to,, the dense fumes that rose from a scanty smoldering on the floor in" the middle of the gloomy room. At last my eyes Became accustomed to the semi-dark-ness, and I was able to make out the forms of the inmates of the hovel. They sat huddled together on a low black settle, warming themselves, and greedily watching a battered pot that, suspended from an improvised tripod above the fire, contained a quantity of thin broth; the main ingredients of which were, as I afterwards discovered, potatoes, and fish. I shared the poor people’s meal of broth and oaten cake, while the smoke curled upward and hung beneath the roof in an impenetrable cloud; the whole making with the festooned fishing nets and tattered oilskins on the walls, an interior which Teniers would have delighted to paint, if there had been any jollity in the scene. There was no table; but at one end of the room there was a shaky dresser on which was arranged a poo* display of cracked crockory rusty tin«. The inside of the house was

divided by means of rotten partitions about six < feet in height, into three small chambers; one being the livingroom, a second a bed-room and the third a lumber and store-room. In the bed-room the clothes were simply old rags and sacking, barely sufficient to cover poor humanity; and the floor throughout vat formed, so fa/as I could see, of the hard earth. Yet this house of the Macdonalds was a palace •in comparison with .some of the hnts I yisited elsewhere. , One had neither door nor window. I crawled into it through an irregular aperture less than three feet high, and found myself among some ducks that were picking np scraps from amid the garbage with which the damp floor was littered. The sole tenant of this hovel was an old woman who had a hacking cough. In another hut, the rain-water dripped from the broken roof and flooded the only room in whioh seven people sat coughing. ! One might reasonably expect to find that the people who live in such wretchedness are stunted and evillooking. But they are not. They are a thick-set intelligent race, and some of the girls are models of buxomness, although before middle-age all the women become withered. They are longlived, too. Their faults are that they are idle and saturated with superstition and prejudice. In only one out of at least a score of crofters’‘ houses which I entered, did I see any sign that the inmates regularly devoted themselves to remunerative home employment In that one, two women were weaving home-spun tweed, and capital cloth they made on their awkward loom. I am glad to he able to say that most of the Skye landlords wean this tweed when they are able to get it; but if there were a wider demand there would be a larger supply, and the islanders would be proportionately benefited. Until quite recently there were weavers in almost every township, and the art might be easily revived. The crofters now get cheaper material for themselves from Manchester, and it is almost exclusively the richer class who use tweed of the island.— St, James Gazette.

Human Ostriches.

What is my opinion of the ostrich which thinks it hides itself by sticking its head in the sand? I think it isn’t half as big an idiot as are its imitators among the human species. The ostrich acts from instinct, and is, of course, not a responsible being, while the human head-hider is quite the reverse. What’s that? Yon didn’t know there were human ostriches? Well, that’s funny! Let me point out a few. Did you ever see a nice, pious man, who carried about with him for daily use among his superiors a let-brotherly-love-continue smile, a missionary-box liberality, a see-me-all-ye-people charity? Well, he’s a human ostrich, and that is the sand he hides his head in, and thinks the world doesn’t see his body, feathered all over with hypocrisy, tyranny to family and employes, stinginess to those dependent upon him and dozens of other meannesses, so hear to dishonesty that the law lets him go by giving him the benefit of the doubt. l)id you ever see a minister of the Gospel in his white neck-tie and broadcloth suit bowing before the throne of grace on Sunday, and during the week mixing with the world in the most worldly way? He’s another human ostrich, and his tie and cloth fire the sand he is hiding his head in, while the people seehisworldly plumes dancing in every earthly breeze. Did you ever see a scoundrel in the hands of the law showing up his family record, his good old mother, his rich father, his respectable brothers and sisters? He’s another, and he has a sand pile he sticks his head in, but everybody can see his villainy hanging around him like feathers soaked in pitch. Did you ever see a woman clothed in purple and fine linen holding her head high and sneering at her humbler acquaintances? She’s another human ostrich, and she bobs her frizzled head into the sand, leaving a body sticking out with feet, which have carried buttey and eggs to nJhrket, and feathers yet stiff' with laundry soap. I think you have seen not only these human ostriches, but others of the same b»ood. The fact of the business is, that very few of us indeed have pot a sand pile, a very little one, possibly, which we at times feel is a refuge. I know I have, and I don’t believe I am very much more of a hypocrite than the average woman or man. I know one thing; I have never stuck my head in the sand pile of belief, that I hadn’t more or less of the ostrich characteristic? in my make-up.—Mer-chant Traveler. .

Ten Thousand Dollars for a Drink.

“You may not believe it, hut I once paid SIO,OOO for a drink of whisky,” said a corporal on duty at the arsenal in the mens room the other day. The talk had turned to war prices and some pretty steep figures were mentioned. No one believed the corporal and all laughed. But the corporal braced up and said: “When I left Petersburg in 1865 I had $20,000 in Confederate scrip. It was as cold as blazes and a feller got warm thinking of whisky. I was hard up for a drink, and as I had been reading a paper on the delicious liquor, my mind wandered to it. Before I had gone far I met a traveling whisky saloon on wheels. Yes, a sutler, you know. That’s what we called them. I hadn’t a cent except the scrip, but I just went up and says: “ ‘Sutler, have you any good whisky ?’ ‘That I have.’ says he. ‘Well, if you will give me a good drink,’ says I, ‘l’ll give you $10,000.’ Well, you should have seen him smile. He knew it was a gag, but just to see the thing ont he filled me a enp fall of tanglefoot, which I drank with a relish, you bet. Then I gave him SIO,OOO. I offered him the other SIO,OOO, but he had been there.”— Washington Republican. Genius, having intuitively what talent has to gain by toil, is less likely to be pedantic—values not that which is natural to it—dreams not of the exaggerated price put on it by others. Flattery-—the hocus-pocus nonsense with which our ears are sometimes cajoled, in order that we may be more effectually bamboozled and deceived.

PITH AND POINT.

A Chinaman is like a billiard player, because he minds his cue. — Carl Pretzel’s Weekly. What is a luxury ? asks an exchange. A luxury is something you don’t want until yon see else with it.— Philadelphia Catl Every body does not have the same opinion of roller-skating. It depends principally upon their experience, the way it strikes them. It is a very easy thing, even for tho most ignorant man, to be an author of note if his name is worth anything.— Merchant Traveler. 1 One good combination dog, if. kept is an alley way between yards, can do the barking for two houses at night.— New Orleans Picayune. A couple of miners struck a vein of gas at a depth of six feet in Ohio. They bored into a book-agent’s grave. —Newman Independent. . Skating rinks are demoralizing. They incline one to base actions, and even the best of Christians are liable to become backsliders Texas Siftings. “So your son has gone abroad? Aren’t you afraid he’ll fall a victim to the cholera?” “No, indeed; he is a member of a base-ball club, and his friends inform me that he was never known to catch anything.”— Boston Transcript, A movement is on foot at Halley,ldaho, to remove the principal of the public schools. Among the serious charges preferred against him are tlje allegations that he pronounces “India” “Injun’* and plays billiards.— Virginia (Nev.) Enterprise. “Yes,” he said, dropping into a chair, “Clara loves me, lam sure. I tried to kiss her to-night at the hall door, but she got very indignant” “That doesn’t look as if she loved you.” said his chum. “Oh, yes it does. She called me a rascal.—The Ingleside. HE WANTS COURT-PLASTER. Gavly the rash young: man Puts on tho skates. Saying: ‘‘l think I can Astonish tho States.” Then he strikes wildly out — Pitster and faster; And with a bump and shout Yells for court plaster. —No'i'ristolen Herald. After the concert: Mrs. Amateur—- “ That last number was delicious. What a beautiful air!” Mrs. Tinsel—- “ Beautiful air 1- For my part, I thought it was extremely oppressive. It was fearfully warm, and there didn’t seem to be any ventilation at alL”— Boston Transcript.

A MOURNFUL CIRCUMSTANCE. An editor did work Like u Turk: * - A poet slow came in Wuha grin, And he said, “1 have some verses That I’d like t > you to sell: , And you may have them, sir, by yaiv! . Or, if you wish, by ell.” —=?The editor looked weak. And with a piercing shr'ek. Right down upon that office floor, He duly fell, and eke Of hope bereft The poet left, -Oh, miseree! Oh sad) alas! r J hat such events will come to v ass! —Chicago Sun. “Bub, are you looking for a place?” “Yes, boss.” “Where did you work last?” “It didn’t last—that was the trouble with it.” “I mean, who hired you? “The elevator—it highbred me and lowered me, too.” “Smart, ain’t you? Where were you raised?” “I was raisied last ’round to Jinks. He raised me out over the coal hole.” “Then you can’t give me a recommendation, cw you?” “Ob, yes, I kin! I kin give you a recommend fer Jinks. He’s a raiser from Baisersville, he is.” Yonker’s Gazette. ; THE BOY AN.> THE BEE. An hr.nble boy with shining- pail Went gladly singing town tho dale, To where the cow wl h the brind:e tail On clover her palate did regale. A bumble-bee did gaily sail Far over the soft and shadowy vale, To where the bay with shining pail Was milking the cow with a brindle tail. The bee sat down on,the cow's Icf < car. Her heels flew through the atmosphere, • And throu -h the leaves of the chestnut tree Tho boy soared into eternity. —Cleveland Herald. Giddy girl, with heart a-fluttor. Did you ever paimo to think What a pile of bread and butter Could be purchased with tho chink Thatyour beau spent lor that cutter? —New York Journal.

A SERIOUS CASE. He is tender and gentle and good to me always; I have loved him from girlhood, shall love him 111 death. The home ho has made me a true lover’s Eden, Except for a serpent that’s lurking beneath, Here I stand imbroid.r, paint plaques, aud~write poeiry, And wait for his coming—his fond little ," wife; Bqt when I rush to him and ask if he loves me. He kisses me, saying. “You bet your sweet life.” Oh, how can 1 bear It! For love is so serious, ' So s weet, and s i solemn, that or el the pang The true heart must feel its deepest outpouring Is met in such fashion with jesting and s ang. But Ihe end is approaching, and e’en though it kill me, I’ll leave him, since surely ho has t o regard For his wile—or to-day when I asked if he loved me He’d never have answered, “Why, cert, little pard.” —The Hatchet•

Charles Francis Adams’ Wit.

Did you ever hear that Charles Francis Adams was a wit? Well, when he went as Minister to England, and a dinner was given to him by the Premier, one of the speech-makers, alluding to various classes in Europe, said; “Our distinguished guest will tell urtbat all men are created equal—-I Buppose?” turning with the bantering question to Mr. Adams. “Yes,” said the latter promptly. “All men created equal?” repepted the orator, incredulously. "Yes, created equal,” explained Mr. Adams; “but shortly after that the fun begins!” —New York Work/.

Senator Bayard’s Terrapin.

Senator Bayard is famous among the epicures of the national capital for his skill in preparing terrapin for the table. The Senator always goes into tfie kitchen and prepares the terrapin with his own hands for the invited guests. He has the knack of imparting a peculiar- delicacy and flavor to the dijh which none of the professional cooks cap imitate. He flavors it so as to render the dish more than usually entrancing to the palate.— Washington Star. . ,* * ' :* " There is a vile audacity which knows fear only from a bodily' cause—none from the awe of shame.