Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1885 — Page 2

' ' , . u VASTNESS. Many ft hearth upon our dark glqbo sighs after many ax ajiiahixl face, Hnuv ft Vianet by many a, sun may roll with the dust of a vanished race. *< Raving politics, never at rest -as this poor earth’s pale history ruins— 7 Whatis it ail but a trouble of ants in the, gleam of a million million of auns ? Ides upon this side, lies upon that side, truthless violence mourn’d by the wise, Thousands of voices drowning his own in a popular torrent of lies upon lies; Stately purposes, valor in battle, glorious annals of army aud fleet, Death for the right cause, death for the wrong cause, trumpets of victory, groans of defeat; Innocence seethed in her mother’s milk, and Charity setting the martyr aflame; Thraldom who walks with the banner of Freedom, aad recks not to ruin a realm in her name; Faith at her zenith, or all but lost in the gloom of dqnbts that darken the schools; Craft with a bunch of all-heiil in her hand, follow'd up by her vassal legion of fools; Pain, that has crawl’d from the corpse of pleasure, a worm which writhes all day, and at night Stirs up again in tho heart of the sleej>er, and stings him back to the curse of the light; “ Wealth with hi s winesandhis wedded harlots Flattery gilding the rift of a. throne; Opulent Avarice, lean as Poverty 1 ; honest Poverty bare to the bone; Dove for the maiden crown'd with marriage', no, regrets for aught that lias been, ... Household happiness, gracious children, debtless competence, golden mean; National hatreds of whole generations, and pigmy spites of the vtlliage spire; Vows that will last to the last death-ruckle, and vows that are snapt in a moment of fire; He that has lived for the lust of the minute, and died in the doing it, fl*sh without mind; He that has nftil'd all flesh to the cross, till self died out in the love of his kind; Spring and summer and auturim and winter, and all these old revolutions of earth; All new-old revolutions of empire—change of . tide—what is all of it worth? What the philosophies, all the sciences, poesy, varying voices of prayer? All that is noblest, all that is basest, all that is filthy, with all that is fair? What is it all, if we all es us end but in being our own corpse-coffins at last, Swallowed in vastness, 10-t in silence, drown’d in the deeps of a meaningless past? . What but a murmur of gnats in the gloom, or a moment’s auger of boes in their hive?— * * * * * * # ♦ * Peace, let it be' for I loved him, and love him forever; the dead are not dead, but alive. —Alfred Tennyson, in Macmillan’s Magazine.

FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES.

BY CHAD.

VOLUME FIRST. They were going to have a grand ball and masquerade at the Higginses’, and among the large number of invited guests w&swour friend “Dal” Wrinkle. “Let me see, soliloquized Dal, after reading the invitation. “What in thunder shall I be, an Italian organ-grinder, Malay Prince, Queen of May, or a Cannibal King? No, I’ve been all those as the former ball masques given by the Higgenses. 1 might rig up as an aiderman or politician, but I could never stand it. It would require too much stuffing and padding to give me the proper sized stomach. Oh, bang it all, anyway! I would’nt go to this ball, if it wasn’t for the fact that Miss Nellie Brightsmile would be present. I must get a new ‘make up,’ too, and that’s what puzzles me. “Within the last six months,at the various masquerades, I’ve been everything, from a masculine fairy, to a wild, untortored Comanche Indian,” and Dal sighed wearily, as he raised the window and glanced thoughtfully down the street. Suddenly his face brightened as a seraphic smile chased its way across his beardless visage. “Eureka!” he yelled, “I’ll be a policeman,” and jumping to his feet, he executed a break-down on the floor, which brought the landlady up-stairs, in great haste, to find out whether the house was on fire, or if one of the boarders had committed suicide, through melancholia, brought on by eating the galvanized fire-proof biscuit, which served as the “staff of life,” in that cheerless household. Dal was standing with his back to the door (having concluded his dance), looking into a large mirror which hung on the side wall, adjusting his cravat, when the landlady opened the door with surprising force, striking Dal in the small of the back and precipitating him through the mirror head-foremost where he nearly had his brains knocked out on the wall be - yond. v “Oh, Mr. Wrinkle! Just see what you’ve done!” exclaimed the landlady in a grievous voice, as soon as Dal had extricated himself from the debris of broken glass. “Better say, what you’ve done,” bitterly replied Dal, as he wiped the blood from a ent pn his nose, and spit out half- a dozen teeth from his mouth. “Mr. Wrinkle! how dare you talk so? What I’ve done. Just as if I were to blame for your intoxicated actions.” This last hit was too much for Dal. “Intoxicated, do you say, madame? Why! I never was more sober in my life, and do you think, madam, that when I am intoxicated I’m such a blamed fool as to go gallopping around, running- my head through two inches of plate-glass, and also using it as a battering ram with which to overthrow boarding-houses? No, madam! It is one of our proudest and most distinguished boasts that a Wrinkle never yet lost his head through drink. No madame! a Wrinkle never yet tried to decapitate himself by plunging through a six 1 by four mirror, and” —the sudden bang of the door informed him that the irate land-lady had withdrawn, so, seating himself on the bed, Dal resumed his soliloquy. “Yes, I’ll rig up as a “cop;” besides. I’ve always noticed that the girls were rather partial to these brass-buttoned members of society, so for one night I will be a policeman bold. Hurrah! ‘My soul’s in arms and eager for the fray.’ Let her feme."

VOLUME SECOND The night of that great social event, Higginses’ grand ball ma«qpe, at last arrived, and Mr. Dalrymple Lorenzo Wrinkle (that being the full, unabridged name of our hero), arrayed in the uniform of “one of the finest,” shone forth as one of the bright and leadinglights of the assemblage. Besides completely capturing the heart of the ■captivating Nellie Brightsmile, he had •nearly shattered the hearts of a score of other attractive damsels, and even the three Misses Squeakum, who were also damsels, but of a more remote period,-had been observed casting blank smiles, and» shy glances at the flying coat-tails, and blazing brass “buttons, as Mr. Dalrymple Lorenzo Wrinkle led his happy partner through the cnazv waltz. It is needless to add that Mr. "Wrinkle was happy. For who would not be happy with the angelic Nellie Brightsmile monopolizing the whole of one arm, and a good share of the other one. with her beautiful liquid eyes gazing softly into your own optic, while her breath, the soft perfume of a thousand flowers, gently fanned your cheek— mortal would not cry out Unto his soul, as did Mr. Dalrymple Wrinkle: •' -Oh joy I Ob rapturpj Bliss divine, How I wish that she were mine !* , But, alas! time even will not pause one precious second, for such scenes of exquisite bliss, but ruthlessly hurries on, speeding us on through both scenes of joy

and sorrow. It will not prolong our joys, but does shorten our sorrow's, for each fleeting second brings us nearertmhbtab, where all men are nt last equalr For who can distinguish the dust of the beggar from that or the millionaire, or the bones of the peasant from those of the king? Truly, indeed, is “Death the «great leveler of all” (a la Bulwer Lytton, has nothing to do with the story). So with Dnl; the evening quickly passed, and after escorting the charming Miss Brightsmile to her palatial resident's, he proceeded joyfully, with a light heart, on his way homeward, for Miss Brightsmile had, in her sweetest, company voice, invited him toriill on her some evening. He was plodding along, deeply wrapped in his own pleasant, high-castle thoughts, when suddenly his attention was attracted to a large crowd gathered in front of a saloon about two blocks away. His curiosity aroused, he quickened his pace and as he drew near he observed that the crowd scattered in all directions leaving two of their number pounding each other viciously. “A fight.” said Dal to himself; “I wonder Where are the police.” By this time he reached the place where the men were rolling together on the ground clinched like bull-dogs. “Hi! there,” shouted a voice in his ear, “Hadn’t we better be after taken them to the stashun now, seein’ the crowd’s gone?” Turning around Dal beheld the herculean form of a policeman. “I don't care what you do with them, ” he answered.

“Don’t ye? Well faith an’ that’s cool. Sure an’ what are ye paid for, I'd like to know, but to haul in all the drunks, you come across, pervidin’they’re harmless.” Suddenly it oecui red to Dal that the officer had mistaken him for a brother policeman, for he still wore his masquerade attire. So pulling his hat down over his eyes he answered, “All right, I will help you run them in, but I am not on duty at present.” “Come, now,” he shouted to one of the ruffians, as he grasped him by the arm, “I Want you.” “I ain't doin. nuthin,” whined the man. “No, I persume ye call that nothing.” chimed in the policeman, “a-punching of that duffer’s head. But ye must come along all the same,” and, raising the men by their coat collars, the officer and Dal strolled for the station with their prisoners, where they arrived after a short walk. Entering the station they cast the two wretches into a cell, and after entering the offense, started to leave the station, when the sergeant exclaimed, to Dal, “Officer, where is your star?”“l,I —lost it.sii,” he answered. “What was the number?” “6,471,” replied Dal, in desperation. “6,471,” exclaimed the amazed sergeant, “jvhy there is no l such number. What is your name?” he asked, taking down a big volume from a bookcase, near by. “Kelly, sir, is the name,” replied Dal.* “There" must be plenty of Kellys on the force,” thought'he. “Ah, yes,” continued the sergeant, “Kelly, here it is—Kelly, W. J. Kelly, T. W. Kelly. Patrick William; what is your full name please?” “Michael Kelly; sir,” “Michael Kelly? Here is Kelly, John H. Kelly, P. D. and plenty of other KeHys, but I must inform you that Michael Kelly does not belong to the force, and I think, sir, that you are an imposter. Officer, place this man in a cell, please; we’ll investigate his casein the morning.” And in spite of Dal’s protestation he was placed behind the grates and the door locked on him.

“Well, here’s a nice fix, Mr. Dalrymple. Lorenzo, Wrinkle,” said he to hunsglf; “this is what you get for impersonating an officer;” but still he could not suppress a smile to think of how but a few hours before he had been one of the merriest of mortals. “Surely; this is quite a change,” he remarked to himself, “from the gilded ballroom to the cold stone walls of a cell in the station-house.” He looked at his watch, lacked but a few minutes to 5 o’clock. “Two whole hours" yet,” he said, with a. yawn, “before I can get out of this confounded place, -Well, I might as well make the best of it,” and, taking a cigar from his pocket, he proceeded to enjoy a smoke. The time passed slowly enough, and when at last he was released from the cell, and marched into the court-room, it seemed as if he had spent a week, instead of a few hours, behind the bars. “What is the offense?” asked the Justice, a man with a very small head, .and a mammothbody. ; ' ' “ ————-

“Impersonating an officer, yer Honor,” replied the policeman who had accompanied Dal to the station. “Your Honor,” said Dal, appealing to the court, “let me explain.” “Shut up!” roared the court. “I wouldn’t believe you. sir, under oath.” The policeman then told the court all the particulars of the prisoner’s arrest, and a great deal more, showing how he had, single-handed, escorted the 'two “drunks,” and their desperate companion (pointing at Dal), to the station, winding up his long harangue by remarking: “He’s a bad ’un, yer Honor. Sure an’ I ve had me-eye on him for some time.” “What a cold-blooded liar!” inwardly remarked Dal. “Young man.” said the couit, “I fine you S2O and costs.” “Twenty dollars.” gasped Dal. “How much are the costs?” “The costs are $10.” “Why, this is robbery, ” “Shut up!” roared the court. “I raise your fine to S3O and costs, which will make $40.” - t “Thank you, sir,” replied Dal. “Here is SSO. I will take the change out in cursing. You’re a d—-n scoundrel (to the court), and you,” turning to the policeman, “are: a cowardly rascal, and if I ever run across you on the street, I will break your neck.” Hold on, you've had your $lO worth,” interrupted the court. “You can go.” With an empty pocket-book, and a bosom swelling with righteous indignation. Mr. Dalrymple Lorenzo Wrinkle left the courtroom. Since then whenever he happens to meet a policeman oq the street he clinches his hands convulsively, and mutters: “I’ll not be responsible- for my actions when I meet him.” Them, with the step of an avenging Nemesis, he hurries on. Should he ever meet the object of his search we will not fail to give the readers of the Ledger the particulars of what will be a “bloody tragedy, the like of which will make even John L. Sullivan- shake in his boots. The Chicago Ledger.

Business is Business.

Bereaved Widow (to undertaker)— “Have you not made a slight mistake in your bill. Mr. Mould?” Mr. Mpuld—“l think not, ihadam.” Bereaved Widow —“1 see yon have charged for fit teen carriages. I am quite sure there were only fourteen. I counted them on leaving the ohurch, and also at the graveyard.”— -New York limes.

A soft putty can ba made, which will, not require sand-papexing, Ijy taking one part of whiting to three of lampblack, mixed in oik A putty of this kind is useful at times in puttying irons that do not fit closelv to the body or gear of a carriage, and serves to keep pumice-stone and water from entering, thus saving time and labor, and probably the spoiling of the job. I xJ **•'

ECCENTRICITY IN LUNCH.

BY BILL NYE.

Over at Kasota Junction, the other day, 1 found a living curiosity. He was a man of about medium height, perhaps 45 years of age, of a quiet disposition,And not noticeable or peculiar in his general manner. He runs the railroad eating-house at that point, and the one odd characteristic which he has makes him well known through three or four States. I could not illustrate his eccentricity any better than by relating a circumstance that occurred to me at the Junction last week. I had just eaten breakfast there, and paid for it. I stepped up to the cigar case and asked this man if he had a “rattling good cigar.” Without knowing it Jyhad struck the very point upon which this man seems to be a crank, if you will allow me that expression, though it doesn’t fit very wqll id this place. He looked at me in a sad and subdued manner, and said: “No, sir; I haven’t a rattling good cigar in the house. I have some cigars there that I bought for Havana fillers, but they are mostly filled with pieces of Colorado Madur overalls. There’s a box over yonder that I bought for good, straight 10-eent cigars, but thy are only a chaos of hay and Flora, Fino and Damfino, all soaked irito a Wisconsin wrapper. Over in the o pther end of the case is a brand of cigars that were to knock the tar out of all other kinds of weeds, according to the urbane rustler who sold them to rhe, and then drew on me before I could light one of them. Well, instead of being a fine Colorado claro with a high-priced wrapper, they are common Mexicano stinkaros in a Mother Hubbard wrapper. The commercial tourist who sold me those cigars, and then drew on me at sight, was a good deal better on the draw than his cigars are. If you will notice, you will see thht each cigar hal a spinal column on it, and this outer debris is wrapped around it. One man bought a cigar out of that box last week. I told him, though, just as lam telling you, that they were no good, md if he bought one he would regret it But he took one and went out on '.he veranda to smoke it. Then he stepped on a melon rind and fell with great force on his side. When we picked him up he gasped oneo or twice ikfld expired. We opened his vest hurriedly, and found that, in falling, this bouquet de Gluefactoro cigar, with the spinal column, had been driven through his breast-bone, and had penetrated his heart. The wrapper of the cigar wasn’t so much as cracked.” “But doesn’t it impair your trade to run on in this wild, reckless way about your cigars?" “It may, at first, but not after awhile. I always tell people what my cigars are made of, and then then they can’t blame me; so, after awhile they get to believe what Isay about them. I often wonder that no cigar man ever tried this way before. Ido just the same way about my lunch counter. If a man steps up and wants a fresh ham sandwich, I give it to him if I’ve got it, and if I haven’t I tell him so. If you turn my sandwiches over you will find the date of publication on every one. If they are not fresh, and I have no fresh ones, I tell the customer that they are not so blamed fresh as the young man with the gauze mustache, but that I cari remember very well when they were fresh, and if his artificial teeth fit him pretty well, he can try one. “It’s just the same with boiled eggs. I have a rubber dating stamp, and as soon as the eggs are turned over to me by the hen, for inspection, I date them. Then they are boiled and another date in red, is stamped on them. If one of my clerks should date an egg ahead, I would fire him too quick. “On this account, people who know me will skip a meal at Missouri Junction, in order to come here and' eat things that are not clouded with mystery. Ido not keep any poor stuff when I can help it, but if I do, I don’t conceal the horrible fact. “Of course a new cook will sometimes smuggle a late date on to a mediaeval egg and sell it, bufc he has to change his name and flee. “I suppose that if every eating-house should date everything, and be square With the public, it would be an old story and wouldn’t pay; but as it is, no one trying^t©"’compete with me, I do well oiijr'of it, and people come here out-of furiosity a good deal. I try to do right and win the public esteem, is, that the general public never did me any harm, and the majority of people that travel are a kind that I may meet in a future state. I should hate to have a thousand traveling men holding nuggets of rancid ham sandwich under my nose through all eternity, and know that I had lied about it. It’s an honest fact, if I knew I’d got to stand up and apologize for my hand-made, all-around, seamless pies, and quarantined cigars, heaven would be no object.”— Boston Globe.

Vanity of Mothers.

“Mothers exhibit more vanity than judgment in their selection of shoes fortheir young children,” saida shoe dealer to a reporter. “One will bring her baby in here and try a pair of shoes that will look ‘real sweet,’ I know what that means, and am always sorry for the baby, who is- usually in its first short dress, and as skittish as any old maid about having its feet interfered with. I don’t say lam going to put a shoe on it a size larger than the foot seems to be, but I do; at least I get it on as well as any one could fit a foot operated by a perpetual mot ; on power. Then I trust to the mother’s, sense for results. If it’s her first, baby she will be indignant and say that she doesn't want the ‘treasure, to Took sloppy in its shoes’. They must fit exactly or she won’t take them. I insist that the child’s weight will push the foot out at least a fourth of an inch, md that the shoe is just right If she objects again 1 give up and find what she wants. The foot is squeezed into a tight shoe, and the baby objects by squalling. She says the sereph is teething or colicky, or hasn’t had its usual nap, and she shakes it up vigorously, while declaring the shoes are just lovely. “The chances are that when she wants another pair she will leave the baby at home and bring the old pair, literally burst out at the toes. She

•wants several pairs to take home lot trial, and I notice that the only ones I consider unsuitable are the very pair she prefers.” “Children would have better looking feet if they had syiser mothers, and the fault lies in the first shoes worn. One pair too short will ruin the feet, no matter how loose subsequent ones may be.” "Then some women learned your philosophy?” , “Yes; but after the little people have laid the foundation for corns and bunions. I know many children between the ages of two and three years who have both these afflictions because their mothers wanted them to look ‘cute,’ as they term this phase of feet-squeozing.” “Is there no change in the shape of children’s shoes?”

“None. There can t well be, because the sole must be sufficiently broad to stand the wear and tear. Square toes are preferred to found because they allow freer development to the toes. The spring heel, which was introduced nearly two years ago, is worn as early as two years of age, and has recently become fashionable for girls in their teens. It is nothing by a slip of leather inserted between the sole and that part of the shoe pressed by the wearer’s heel. It is seldom that a smaller than No. 8 is made with a regular heel, and that is onjthe common-sense plan—low and broad. These and the larger sizes have a higher top than has been usual for several years.” “Tell me something about babies’ shoes. How are they numbered?” “No. 4 is the first shoe out of babyhood. No. 0 has a soft sole of white kid and pasteboard, and is the successor of the knit wool boots that are sold for babies in long dresses. Nos. 1,2, and 3 have what is called the turn sole, sewed together on the wrong side and turned out. There are from four to five buttons on the side and a black tassel is now fastened at the top in front The latest is to have a bamp of French kid with calf uppers, or what is fetill better, a half-boxed round toe. tipped with patent leather.”— New York Mail.

Corns.

Much has been saidTand written concerning corns by eminent scientists and theologians, who have given the subject earnest and prayerful attention, but there is still left a broad field for thoughtful investigation. The writer of this paper has an unrivaled collection of these exotics, and has devoted much careful study to their growth and habits, watched them in repose, and felt the passionate throb of their mad pulses when the gentle, but firm, pressure of a too contiguous boot stirred all their dormant energies to action; cooled their fevered brows with lemon juice and cold cream, and with a fond and doting parentfs tender care have nightly wrapped their parched and pain-racked frames in the soothing folds of an oleaginous rag; bound eelskin and tobacco on the soft variety, and have rasped down those of the hard-shelled persuasion with a rat-tail file; have patiently watched the microscopic germ in the cuticle, that to the inexperienced eye gave no promise of its future greatness, until it blossomed into a mighty bunion, capable of exciting more remorse and Scriptural language than an out-door revival meeting. In short, there is nb phase of corn lite with which I am not as familiar as with the tenets of the Emersonian school of philosophy. It is not, however, the purpose of this brief article to enter into a lengthy disquisition upon the birth or origin of the corn, or the relation it bears to modern civilization. In our forthcoming work entitled, “The Bunion as a Means of Grace,” these questions are fully and fearlessly discussed. The present purpose is merely to imparta few words of wisdom that will awaken interest and curiosity, and create a desire to become better acquainted with the subject in hand, or, more properly speaking, on foot Dtd you ever reflect that the corn is an index of refinement and enlightenment? You may seek for it in vain in the miserable habitations of the native, of Terra del Fuego, or the bushmen of Australia, but in the gilded homes of statesmen and men of letters you will find them by the score. Gaze upon the generous feet of the King of the Cannibal Islands, who never had acorn in his life—unless it was appended to a roasted missionary—and then search the embossed bedal extremities of Mr. Gladstone; or Lord Tennyson, or Lily Langtry, or the writer of this article, and you will realize that it is not the shriek of the locomotive, or the gaudy uniform of the somnolent telegraph messenger, but the humble and unassuming corn that speaks loudest of the onward-strides of civilization. If you are not convinced look backward into the ' dim past—into the ages when had even the tongue of prophesy lisped of the printing press, the steam engine, or the dude, its words would have been scouted as the ravings of a disordered brain. History records that Cleopatra had freckles, but where upon its pages will you find a syllable to indicate that any of the ancients had corns? Can it be supposed for a moment that a writer who wouid take pains to describe a paltry assortment of polka dots, would, had they then existed, have omitted to mention those anatomic oricles that now fill the gaiters of the human race so full of vain regrets? Certainly not It ■is clear that only for a few centuries have even the civilized nations of the globe known the chastening influences of the contumacious corn.— Detroit Free Press.

True.

Policeman —“Come down out o' that, young feller.” Reporter—But I'm a reporter, and I want to get a description of the fire.” Policeman —“To the divil wid you. You can’t stay there. Yon kin foind out aH about the foire from the papers in the morning.”— Chicago Ram bier. Knowledge must be made vital in the heart befqre it can blossom into conduct, and the continual passing of right feeling into Tight action alone can form a worthy character. A new variety of honey bee has been discovered in California. It is said to be twice as large as the common*bee, and to produce twice as much honey.

The French Working-Classes.

The French industrial classes are unrivaled in Europe in the elements of application, thrift, and contentment. The French possess the happy faculty of mailing a a good ways. Though, the earnings of the workingpeople are meager, they contrive to live comfortably, dress neatly, and save a little money. In their economy nothing is wasted. Saving is a national characteristic,as much so as love of country. Who can forget how the little hoardings of the masses, small almost to in significance when viewed individally, came forth from their hiding-places when the milliards of indemnity to Germany had to be met? A Frenchman's love of county and patriotism are very great, almost amounting to sublimity. Iti his eyes no sacrifice is too great for him to make for his country, and while there is a chance for him to gain a living on his native, soil, there is little likelihood of his emigration to a foreign soil. The number of emigrants is small in comparison with other European nations. In a hasty survey of labor and wages in France, observations are made from a few of the important centers.

In the department of Gironde, of which Bordeaux is the principal city, there has been a perceptible improvement in the condition of the workingclasses since 1878. Wages have increased about 17 per cent, and parents are enabled to provide better homes for their families. Children, through the advantage of free schools, receive education, and are no longer compelled to earn their living at the age of 10 years. The working-man, when single, is improvident, but married men lead a generally steady life. The wife also works, and when there are no children the couple succeed, with frugality and care in establishing a little home and oftentimes a credit in some bank or mutual aid association. The steady married man having a family of three or four children can, with .the help of his wife, earn enough for their wants and save a few francs from the month’s earnings. They live in a small house or apartments of two rooms and a kitchen, for which they pay from $5 to $6 per mouth. Their food” consists of bread, wine, vegetables or vegetable soup, and at rare intervals meat of the cheapest quality, and clothing is of the cheapest quality, a suit being obtainable for $3 or $4- Some better their condition by forming societies and paying in a few francs each month; they thus manage to save something for old age or sickness.

As a rule they are healthy, have little ambition, are contented, and expect as a matter of course to work until they die. The farm laborers are economical, careful, and live frugally on small means, and it is not unusual to find that many out of their scant eari - ings have in a few years saved enough to buy a small house and a few acres of land, which is the satisfaction of their highest ambition. Manufacturing and railroad companies are compelled by law to compensate employes who are injured in their service, and to pension families of such who die. In the department of the Gironde there are about 13,000 women employed in manufacturing and mechanical industries, and 21,000 in agricultural. The maximum female wages per month is $19.30, the minimum $9.65. Women employed in factories and on farms are entirely aineflucated; those in stores know how to read and write a little. Now that free schools are established the people are making great sacrifices to enable their children to get education. The average wage? per week in Bordeaux in certain avocations are as follows: Bricklayers, $4.62; masons, $4.93; carpenters, $5.10; blacksmiths, $5.66; jewelers, $5.16; potters, $4.18; printers, $6.05; weavers, outside of mills, $4.42; machinists, $7.43; toolmakers, $6.41. The wages of glass blowers range from $3.96 Io sl2, the latter for colored-bottle blowers. In the mines men get from $3.56 to $3.72 per week. Agricultural wages are, for women, $75 a year with board and lodging; for men, $79.10 with board and $164.10 without. These rates are measurably representative of all the departments.

The ’Possum on Judgment Day.

A planter owned a slave named Mose, who was an inveterate ’possum hunter. Away back in 1833 there was a most remarkable meteoric shower, popularly known as “when ; the stars fell.” Uncle Mose was out in a hurricane track where the logs Igy thick, indulging in his favorite pass-time. His boy Jeff was with him, and they had caught a ’possum and inserted his tail in a cleft sapling, in the usual fashion, and Jeff was carrying the pole on his shoulder. Suddenly the whole earth was illuminated by the shower of falling meteors. Uncle Mose gazed up in mute astonishment as the blazing stars went shooting hither and thither, stretching their flaming tails across the horizon in an awe inspiring manner. Then he stampeded. He would run a short distance, fall over a log, and then get on his knees and pray. Then he would make another dash, trip over a decaying branch, and begin praying again. Jeff scrambled after him, still holding onto his ’possum. All of a sudden Mose remembered it was Sunday night, and then he prayed louder than ever. Jeff called out: “Daddy, wot mus’ I do wid dis ’possum?” “Great Lord o’ massy! Jeff, hab you got dat ’possum yit? Turn ’im loose! let’em go, yo’ fool nigger! De worl’ am cornin’ to an een’, an’ w’en de Load ax me wot I mean by huntin’ ’possum on Sunday night, doan yo’ know Idoan want dat ’possum to ’pear in judgment agin me?”—Macon Telegraph.

A Typical Texas Landlord.

On the Ist of the month Jim Murry, an Austin landlord, called on Hostetter McGinnis for rent. “Mr. Murry, I don’t think you ought to charge me S2O a month for the rent of this room. When it rains the water runs right into the room through the roof—it leaks so.” “What? There is water running on the premises? You will have to pay $5 extra for that How long have you been enjoying the water privilege at my expense?”— Texas Siftings. Men are like wagons—they rattle prodigiously when there it nothing in them.

PITH AND POINT.

The fisherman’s proverb, “It is easier to tell a lie than it is to catch a small fish.”- White Hall Times. If you stick a sword through a loaf of bread, you will have the staff of life on the point of death. - Carl Pretzel's Weekly. When Stiggins died from Cholera, brought on by eating rhubarb pie, the physicians solemnly decided that he died of too much pie-eat-he.— Texas Siftings. ' Some men whom the Almighty in-5 tended to be fools have to have the ih-J formation driven into them with tlie bung-starter of common sense.— Fall River Advance. If there is anything below the cjouds that will make an angel red around the eyes it is to see a nearsighted bachelor try to thread a needle. —Chicago Ledger. Miss Helen Gardner claims to be the only woman infidel lecturer in the world. Up to the hour of going to press this was enough—if not twice too many.— Norristown Herald: All doctors agree that to enjoy good health the mind must be kept in a cheerful condition; but no doctor can give a man points that will make him joyous when his collar don’t fit.—Chicago Ledger. Mary Hill, of California, is 22 years old, good looking, owns 400 acres of land, shoots a revolver, and advertises that she wants to marry; a newspaper man. Eh! boys—where are you?— Detroit Free Press.

How goes it with you now, my lad, How goes it with you now? Why this sad whehceness in your mien, This thinkness on your blow? Alas ! I am a funnv man, By Momue held in thrall. And I have just forgot a joke Which I cannot reeall. Washington “Tis love that makes the world go round,” warbles a poet. You’r right old boy. It does make a fellow dizzy, especially when he sees seventeen dishes of ice-cream stowed away in a little 3x4 stomach, at the cost of his whole week’s salary.— St. Paul Herald. James Porter, a Kentucky tavern keeper, was eight feet high. It is necessary for tavern keepers in that state to be giants. The Kentuckians run up such high scores for drinks that an ordinary sized man can’t reach the top of the slate without mounting a step-lad-der —and that’s rather inconvenient.— Norristown Herald.

Several gentlemen were standing about the door at a swell reception when a fine looking lady passed down the hall. “By Jove,” said one, “that’s a looking woman.” “Very imposing, indeed,” said another. “You bet she is,” said a third: “I know, for I’ve been her husband for ten years.” —Merchant Traveler. Many devices have been put in use by actors and lecturers to keep from smiling, but the simplest and most effective is to put a small wooden button in the mouth, and bite down on it every time the impulse to laugh makes itself manifest. Some grit their teeth or cringe their toes, and a famous minstrel for a long time resorted to the scheme of sticking a pin in his thigh.— Baltimore Herald. .

A minister at a recent wedding came very near being broke up right in the midst of the ceremony, and all by the bride, a pretty, fragile, young, little thing, and one of his favorite parishioners. She had insisted on the most rigid of the Episcopal Church forms, and her Unitarian minister had humored her. Imagine, then, his surprise as he dictated the lines: “Promising to love, honor, and obey,” to have her distinctly alter her. oath to; “Promising to love, honor, and be gay,” looking him directly in the face the while. He had some difficulty to control his inclination to laugh, and not being prepared for the contingency, let it slip.— Boston Home Journal.

THE BIRD’S ANSWER. Fair Katy stood at the cottage door: Sweet was the smile that her red lips wore, For Robin was coining down the lane, Driving homeward the lowing train. And well she knew, when his work was o’er, He would come around to the cottage door. She waited there and he came at last And held the maid to bis bosom fast A single moment, and in her ear He whispered low, “Wont you kiss me dear?” She sighed andtrambled, the maiden fair, Then pouted her lips and kissed him there. (Oh I the bee no sweeter nectar sips Than that which lies on a maiden’s lips.) But Katy ’s ma through the window pane Observed the meeting of the twain. And said, with alarm in tone and air, “I wonder if Katy kissed him there I” And a little bird in the thicket hid Promptly answered her, “Katydid.” —Boston Courier. - - .

Grant Said Nothing, but His Jaw Clicked.

Mr. Purvis made an interesting comparison of Cleveland and Grant. “I had two interviews with Grant,” he said. “Some years ago I went to see him about the proposed removal of Gen. Worthington from the collectorship of the port of Charleston. I talked along, and the General never said a word. He shut his mouth, and just looked at me. He had an awful heavy eye, and he never winked. Finally, I did move him. I said: ‘Mr. President, if you remove General Worthington, the class from whom the loudest expressions of joy will come will be the class opposed to you—the rebels.’ His jaw clicked like that,” bringing his hands together. “Worthington was waiting in the ante-room, qnd he asked the result. I did not know what it would ‘ be. ‘Didn’t he say anything?’ asked Worthington. ‘No,’I replied; ‘but when I said he wotrid please the Rebels by your removal. he clicked his jaw like a turtle.’ ‘Ry jove,’ said Worthington, ‘you’ve made an impression on him; I won’t be removed.’ And he wasn’t”— Philadelphia Special.

A Successful Physician.

“George, who is your, family physician?" “Dr. Smoothman.” “What, that, infernal How does it happen you employ him?” “Oh, it’s some of my wife’s doings. She went to see him about a cold in her head, and he recommended that she wear another style of bonnett. Since that she won’t have any other doctor." —Chicago News,