Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 December 1885 — Page 6

THE ELF-CHILD. BY tAMSM WHITCOMB RIT. IST. tittle Oruhon Annie’s come to onr home to stay, An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush th e crumbs away, Ax.’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an' sweep. An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an-keop; An' all us other children, when the supper things is done. We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest tun A-list'nln' to the witch tales 'at Annie tells about, the gobble-uns ’at gits you Es you ‘ ' Don’t Watch _ Out! .» < Ono't they was a little boy wouldn’t say his pray'rs— An* when he went to bed ait night, away upstairs, His mamma heerd him holler, an' his daddy heerd him bawl, An* when they tura't the kivvers down he wasn't there at all I An* they seoked him in the rafter-room an' cu’> by-hole an’ press, An' seeked him up the chimney-flue, an’ everywhere, I guess. But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout ! An’ the gobble-uns ’ll git you Es you Don’t Watch Out 1 An’ one time a little girl 'ud alius laugh an’ grin. An’ moke fun of ever’ one an’ all her blood-an'-kin. f ;,.. An’ onc't, when they was "company, * an’ ole folks was there, She mocked 'em, an' shocked ’em, an’ said she didn’t care 1 An’ thist as 9he kicked her heels, an’ tnrn’t to run an’ hide. They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side, An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ’fore she k nowed what she's about 1 An’ the gobble-uns ’ill git you Es you Don’t Watch Out! An’ little Orphan Annie says, when the blaze is Blue, An’ the lampwick sputters’ an’ the wind goes woo-oo 1 An’ you near the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray, •An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched away— You better mind yer parents, an’ yer teachers fond an’ dear. An’ cherish them ’at love you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear, An’ he’p the po’ an’ needy ones ’at clusters all about, Kr the gobble-uns ’ll git you Es you Don't Watch Out!

THE DEADLY TIMEPIECE.

BY MORRIS REDWING.

It was while journeying through Wales on business of a nature that I need not here explain, that I met with the adventure I am about to relate. One windy, gloomy day in the month of March, I found myself riding on horseback through a hilly country in the south of ‘Wales. Not many houses were to be met wrth in this region, and I was now willing to accept the assertion that the road between Ballenock and Glenwall was as gloomy and disagreeable a stretch as it had over been my lot to encounter, and I have traveled a great deal in the years that are gone. Shadows qf approaching night were falling in the valleys, and I began to look anxiously for a wayside inn, where I could find shelter for the night. In vain I strained my eyes. Naught but gloomy hills, barren and rock-ribbed, met my gaze on either hand.

While meditating on the loneliness of the situation, I was startled by a lond scream, coming, apparently, from a little gulch that cut the hills in twain, just in advance and on the left of my path. I urged my tired beast forward, and gained a spot opposite the opening, when a female form dashed out and gained the road, running with all speed, I caught a glimpse of a face white with mortal terror, as well it might be, for directly behind the female, and not many paces in the rear, dashed a mongrel cur, his jaws dropping spume, his eyes flaming red and terrifying. Instantly I took in the situation. The dog was mad! At every bound he gained on the panting, frightened female, and it seemed a question of but a few seconds when the fangs of the mad brute would be fastened in her flesh. With the quickness of thought I drew my revolver and leveled it at the side of the mad cur. Instantly after the flash and report, I looked over at the dog.who had just crossed the road. My aim had been true, the brute was there, writhing in the agonies of death. The female saw the work I had wrought and instantly fell on her knees, crossed herself, and' offered some sort of a prayer of thankfulness ere she ventured to approach the spot where I had drawn rein. She was not an uncomely lass of, I judged, 20 years. She was not profuse in thanks, but she pressed my hand and' 1 expressed herself as very grateful. I realized that toy opportune shot had saved her from a horrible fate, a fact of which she was fully aware, and when I asked if a tavern was near, she said in fair English: “No public house, sir, but my brother keeps travelers Sometimes.” Then she glanced up at the sky. “It will soon be dark; will you come to our house?” “How for is it from here?”

“Not a mile that way,” and she pointed to the west. This would take me somewhat out of my course, yet I resolved on accepting the girl’s invitation and accompany her Lome. See seemed to recover from her fright most suddenly, and refused to ride when I proffered my horse for her use. "No, I am used to walking.” That was all, and I did not urge the matter. During the way she scarcely spoke, and I soon discovered that she preferred to remain silent, being of a morose disposition naturally I thought. -tThe girl’s home was a gloomy-looking ■tone cottage built against the side of a rocky hill. A narrow road passed in front of it and a little distance from the house was a stable in which my horse found shelter. A middled-aged. low-browed man met me at the door, and expressed a willingness to furnish me shelter for the night. “We hain't the best of accommodation,” •aid the man, “but you won’t starve, nor lose any sleep on account of a leaky roof. Everybody sleeps sound atthis house, sir.” “I did not like the appearance of this man. Like his sister he had a somber cast of countenance, but he seemed more willing to talk, and once inside he drew a benoh to the fire for me, occupying one end himself, and entered at once into an animated conversation, inquiring about the object of my journey, exhibiting a curiosity that would have done credit to a Yankee woman. This garrulity I felt sure was foreign to the man's nature And I was puzzled to know the cause. Only once did I see the girl, Olma, during the evening, and that was when she brought in my supper, for which I had created an appetite during a longer jaunt than ushal between meals. When the hour for retiring came, a key and candle were placed in. my hands, and a door opened that revealed a stairs leading to the room above, a ~which the house contained bat one.

"You will lock your door and bolt it,” said the man with a forced smile, that sat unpleasantly on his face. "Sometimes robbers have been known to enter houses in this vicinity. I want you to feel safe." Audi could not feel otherwise when I came to examine the room above. One window alone admitted light through the foot of a stone wall, and as the door below was the only means of entrance to the chamber, which I had locked and bolted, it seemed to me thnt I had an impregnable fortress all to myself. There was one object thnt attracted my attention when I first entered the chamber, and that was the enormous crock that stood at the far end. It was imbedded in the wall, and was like unto the clocks of the early New Englanders, only of greater proportions. It was nearly ten by the clock, high time that I was in dreamland, for I was greatly fatigued. The old clock ticked loudly, its honest face seeming to smile out at me from behind its hands'. i I smiled when I regarded it, for the feeling of gloominess vanished under the soothing influence of the old clock’s ticking. There is company in a clock as well as in a pipe, and I felt almost as peaceful and, nappy as I would in my own far-away American home. Removing my clothing, I crept into bee, placing my small leather valise on the floor near the head. Then 4 1 lay for; Some minutes listening to the so “emu ticking of (he clock. It was soothing ill its effects. I had not yet extinguished the light, but lay so that I could watch the old clock's face and dream of home and friends across the wide Atlantic. Of a sudden a strange thing occurred. A queer feeling took-possession of me. Some invisible power seemed drawing me toward that monster clock in the corner. In vain I attempted to throw off the feeling. At length, when powerless to resist the impulse longer, I sprang up, and seizing the light, approached the queer old timepiece. When within a few feet of the old clock I saw a strip of white paper hanging down over the glass covering to the face. It was this then that looked so queer from my position on the bed. I lifted the paper, a narrow slip, turned it over, and, to my surprise beheld writing in an irregular hand, and in English. “You saved my life. I am not, ungrateful. Watch the clock if you would not died' The communication was a startling one. Undoubtedly the girl, Olma, had penned the words for my benefit. "What reason had she to suppose that I would examine the clock and find this warning. Doubtless she reckoned on my curiosity, since so large a time-piece would naturally attract attention.

A queer sensation, perhaps it was feay, passed through me as 1 tried the door of the old clock. It refused to yield, and after a little time lost in vain speculation I went back to the bed, but not to sleep. I was now thoroughly awake and as thoroughly alarmed. Putting on my clothing I drew forth my revolver, a weapon I always carried W-hile traveling, and extinguished the light. Then I crawled behind the bed, and with weapon cocked for instant use, awaited developments. Tick-tock went the clock, and the monotonous sound once more lulled my senses, and I was fast dropping into a doze, when a sound startled me and sent the blood bounding through my veins. Instantly I was on the alert. I listened intently, every nerve strained to its utmost tension. What was it that had so aroused my halfdormant senses. Ha! I have it now 1 . The clock had stopped! „ - A moment later I heard the creak of a door, folknved soon after by the sound of a stealthy tread. Whatever danger threatened was imminent now. The step moved forward, the stealthy tread of a human foot! Nearer and nearer it came, and paused at length beside the bed. A moment of suspense, then came a cling! Unit shook the bed. An instant later a low cry, a hiss of rage and disappointment, and then a bright light illuminated the scene. To my dying day I shall not forget what that light revealed —a man bending over the couch clutching the hilt of a large knife, the point of which he had driven through the bed, and which had been intended for my heart. The look that rested on the man’s face was fiendish in the extreme. I rose and confronted the demon with cocked revolver. Behind him stqod Olma with a dark lantern, whose light she had Hashed over the scene. An instant the man glared at me, and then, with an oath of savage rage, he ierked his knife free and dashed madly into tfie face of my deadly six-shooter. I pressed the trigger. A flash and report- followed, and the would-be murderer lay a bleeding corpse at my feet. Then I turned my weapon upon Olma, for I knew not if she were friend or foe. s'* < “Wait,” she commanded, quickly, and coollv. “You found my warning?” “I did.”

“Then wo are even. I wanted to save your life, but dared not let him know of my intention,” _ ~ She pointed at the dead outlaw as she spoke. “I will tell my story briefly," she continued. “I have been connected with this man for years, in acts of murder and robbery. Yes, it is true, my hands , are red with hpman blood. Many travelers have been lured here to their doom by toe; their bodies are buried under the house, and we have thrived from their gold. You, also, would have formed one of them down there but for what you did to-day. I did not wish you to die. This man was my husband, and lam not sorry he is dead —I hated him! One favor, Task of you, only; do not set the officers on my track until morning, and I am content.” / I made the required promise add-she departed, not by the door, but into the clock. I was deeply curious. Lighting my candle I went to the now open clock, and found that a narrow opening in the wall led to an underground room by means of a rope ladder. This was the mystery" of the clock. From below, the assassin passed up through the huge clock to the chamber above and easily disposed of the unsuspecting traveler. I left the the horrible den at once, regaining the main road, and continued my journey, reaching Glenwall I.by the middle of the forenoon. Here, to the authorities I told my story, and a posse was at once dispatched to the old house. I was detained in Glenwall some time to appear as a witness against the fiend-woman whose hands were red with many self-confessed murders. She was not found, however, and it was afterward surmised that she hadcommitted suicide in some lonely spot to escape the vengeance' of outraged law. Many years have passed since my night experience in the room of the mysterious clock, but even now, when I think of that time, a cold shudder comes over toe, and I am truly thankful that I have not to experience again another night of such horror. London milliners ire making a specialty of colo ed caps in velvet and other materials to -Correspond with costumes for autumn wear. The foot of the owner ft the best manure for his land. -

MANNERS FOR MEN.

A I‘arlttlan Chat us to the Little Civilities Due to Miss and Madam. A very witty and intelligent Parisienne, of high social rank, has recently declared as follows: “Gentlemen should always bow first to ladies, nurses, and priests. A true gentleman will salute the host, religious funerals, the flag of a parting regiment Nuns and priests should be saluted everywhere, hut in the case of a lady the place wpere she is met with decides whether she is to bo saluted or not Whenever a gentleman meets a lady of his acquaintance in a public place he should uncover completely in saluting her; if he speaks to her he should remain uncovered until she requests him to replace his hat. If ihe lady is riding in a carriage he should always salute her, if she is on foot he should wait until she has manifested by a glance of recognition that she desires Iris salutation. At the races, in the B»ie, in the public promenades,gentlemen should salute 4 without waiting for recognition, but they should not return the salute every time they meet the lady in the same place during the same day. When a man meets a woman in a stairway, no» matter to what class of society she may belong, he should pause, remove his hat, and wait until she has passed. Louis XIY. saluted all women, without making any distinction, and uncovered himself on the stairways of his palace, even when the woman who passed him was one of the maid-servants. “A deplorable custom has been recently introduced into the theaters; it is that of gentlemen keeping their hats on while they are talking to a lady at the door of her box. At the theater a man should never be the first to salute a lady, but wait until, by her recognition, shq has authorized it. If she speaks to him he should not, no matter how much she insists, replace his hat on his head until he leaypii her. It is not obligatory to call in at the boxes of all the ladies you may know. For a man who gpes out a great deal this would be impossible; besides, you should not enter a ladies’ box at the theatqruntil you have satisfied your J self that it is not already overcrowded with visitors; it is also the correct thing to enter a box only when you are acquainted with all the ladies in it. "A man should salute ladies as they are coming out of church, but never inside it, unless he is encouraged by a glance of recognition, for a woman should never be disturbed in her religious meditations. If a gentleman meets a lady on the arm of another with whom lie is not acquainted he should not salute unless her manner encourages him to do so, and then he should confine hi* salute to a profound bow and pass on without stopping. If the lady speaks the gentleman on whose arm she is leaning should make a slight movement as though to hold himself to one side, and it is the place of the lady to introduce the two men; although she need not do so unless she wishes. If two gentlemen are together and one bows to a lady the other should never bow; to do so is to show a lack of tact and an impertinent desire to be presented. A well-bred man makes no distinction among women when saluting them, no matter to what class of society she may beloiqg. When he is with a lady he should not bow to any but those whom that lady know#’ excepting, of course, members of his

own fa’mily. “ Well-bred men never enter a salon Sifter G o’clock p. m. with their hat in their hand, although it is the correct thing to do so earlier in the afternoon. In a salon ladies should be bowed to as profoundly as possible, no matter how intimate you may be with them —the politeness is not intended for them, but for the mistress of the house. You should always wait for a lady to offer you her hand before taking it: if she is elderly you may carry it respectfully to yom lips. It is generally the fashion when a lady salutes a princess with the ‘grand salut de cour’ for the latter to raise her up and kiss her on the forehead. A lady should be bowed to from the day she takes her first communion ; before that you treat her according to your degree of intimacy with her family. Between men the only rule in these matters is that the younger should always be the first to bow, and that the elder should return the salute in the same way that it is given. “You can enter your club with your hat on your head, and you should not remove it on entering a restaurant or case; you can also keep it on in a theater until you reach your seat, provided the piece has not commenced, in order that you may be able to remove it when you pass in front of a lady. ” Pai'is Letter in New Orleans Picayune.

The Reed Bird.

The reed bird ft the same as the rice bird of the Southern marshes. It feeds there upon rice and takes its local name from that fact. The description of the habits of the bird as given by Mr. Robert Redgway is an interesting one. It appears at different places at different seasons, and receives a different name at each place. It occurs in equal abundance, whenever a suitable food supply is to be found, throughout the country east of the Rocky Mountains, and is therefore not, as many suppose, confined to the Atlantic seacoast The reed bird appears among the Delaware marshes about the middle of August; a week or so later they visit the Potpma cflats, where they linger from about the 20th of August to the last of September or beginning of October, gradually diminishing in numbers toward the last Long before the last- have left the wild rice marshes of the Potomac, others which have gone before have invaded the rice plantations of South Carolina, where they are known as “rice birds.” and in tobe r they move still further southward to their winter home within the tropics. In Jamaica, where they pass th.e winter in large numbers, they feed upon the seeds of the Guinea grass, and become so excessively lat that they are there known as “butter birds.” The greater portion of Sputh America is prpbably included in their winter range, since tile national collection contains, a specimen from Paraguay, while numerous other South American localities have been recorded, the most

remarkable of which, perhaps, is the far off Galapagos Islands, which lie 600 miles from the nearest mainland of Ecuador. Although reed birds remain for several weeks id a given locality, it is by no mean's the same birds which are seen every day. The same individuals do not, ns a rule, remain over a day or two, and those which leave for the South during the one night are replaced next day by fresh ar, ivals from the North, these latter becoming fewer until no more are left to come. It migrates to the North in the summer, and breeds in the northern tier of the United States. It appears here in May, stopping on its way north, but it is not then a reed bird, that is it does not live in the marshes. As there are no seeds to feed upon then it lakes to the fields and meadows, and subsists chiefly, if not exclusively, upon insects. The plumage of the male is ranch gayer, and makes the bird quite conspicuous. On account of its colors the male bird is sometimes known in tho North as the skunk blackbird. It has a white and black plumage. But its most common name is the bobolink. It belongs to the same family as the oriole and red-wing blackbird, and resembles those birds very much.—Boston Cultivator.

He’d Rather Be Hung.

In the middle ages there were two chances of life at the last moment accorded to a malefactor condemned to death, besides a free pardon from the sovereign. One of those was the accidental meeting"of a Cardinal w r ith the procession to execution; the other was the offer of a maiden to marry the condemned man, or, in the case of a woman sentenced to death, the offer of a man to make her his wife. The claim of the Cardinals was a curious one. They pretended to have inherited the privileges with which the vestal virgins of old Home were invested. In 1309 a man was condemned to be hanged in Paris for some offense. As he was being led to execution down the street of Aubryle-Boucher he met the Cardinal of Eusebius, named liochette, who was going np the street. The Cardinal immediately took oath that the meetingwas accidental, and demanded the release of the criminal. It was granted. In 1376 Charles V. was appealed to in a case of a man who was*about to be hanged, when a girl in the crowd cried out that she would take him as her husband. Charles decreed that the man was to be given up to her. In 1382 a similar case came before Charles’ which we shall quote verbatim from the royal pardon. “Henrequin Dontart was condemned by the judges of our court in Peronne to be drawn to execution on a hurdle, and then hung by the neck till dead. In accordance witli which decree he was drawn and carried by the hangman to the gibbet, and when he had the rope around his neck, then one Jeannette Marchon, a maiden of the town of Hammancourt, presented herself before the Provost and his Lieutenant- and supplicated and required of the aforesaid Provost and his Lieutenant to deliver over to her the said Dontart, to be her husband. Wherefore the execution was interrupted, and he was led back to prison * * * and, by the tenor of these letters, it is our will that the said Dontart shall be pardoned and released.” Another instance we quote from the diary of a Parisian citizen of the year 1430. He wrote: “On January 10, 1430, eleven men were taken to the Halles to be executed, and the heads of ten were cut off. The eleventh was a handsome young man of 24; he was having his eyes bandaged when a young girl born at the Halles came boldly forward and asked for him. And she stood to her point, and maintained her right so resolutely, that he was taken back to prison in the Chatelet, where they were married* and then he was discharged.” The custom ha 3so stamped itself on the traditions of the pheasantry that all over France it is the subject of popular tales and anecdotes; with one of the latter we will conclude. In Normandy a man was at the foot of the gibbet, the rope was round his heck, when a sharp-featured woman came up and demanded him. The criminal looked hard at her, and turning to the hangman, sfiid: — A pointed nose, a bitter tongne ! ‘ Proceed! I’d i ather far be bung. —From Belgravia.

A Telegrapher's Romance.

“I will tell you an incident connected with telegraphing by sound,” said the telegraph operator. “After I came to New Yefik I lived in a quiet street, which is now a noisy thoroughfare. I spent most of my time when away from the office in my room. One evening; while sitting in my window, I happened to look across to the opposite house, where I saw a pretty girl at one of the windows. She was leaning against the casement tapping on the glass with a pencil. After this I saw her at the same place many times. We had got as far as a nodding acquaintance, but I had no opportunity of speaking to her. One afternoon, having come home somewhat early, I was seated at my window thinkiiig of my pretty friend opposite. I almost unconsciously tapped a salute to her on the windowpaue with my pencil, using the telegraphic sights. I was very much surprised when a reply came from her in the same way. She . understood the signs and could use them. After that we had long talks across the street,and as our interest in each other deepened into a warmer feeling, many a tender message was sent by the air line. You may not believe it, but we were engaged to be married before we had ever exchanged a word or before either had heard the other speak a word. Afterward 1 was introduced properly, and married the young lady the following Christmas, and that is what I call getting a wife ’on tick.”— New York Sun. ■

A Useful Man.

Humanity owes at least one little debt of gratitude to Ejnil Zola. When he was poor he used tO catch English sparrows and eat them. Now any man who will come to America and eat English sparrows cad secure steady employment atgood wages and will be hailed as a public benefactor.— Bqb Burdette. The joys of heaven are like the stars, which by reason of our remoteness .appear extremely* little. — Boyle . - . , ’ ’

How He Learned It.

Tho famous novelist started in life as a reporter. He learned short-hand by the old clumsy methods that were the fashion in his time. It was as serious a business as learning Greek and committing to memory the whole of the “Iliad.” But Dickens worked at it and stuck to it through thick and thin, till finally he mastered it In later years he became very wealthy, and the most renowned story writer of his time' But he never would have done if he had not worked jnst as hard at writing as he did at learning short-hand. Have some of our boys and girls thought thev would like to become stenographers’? Here is how Charles Dickens learned it. He says: “I bought an approved scheme of the art and ihystery of stenography, (which cost me ten-and-sixpence;, and plunged into a sea of perplexity that brought me in a lew weeks to the confines of distraction. f “The changes that were hung upon dots, which in one position meant one thing, and in another position something else; the wonderful vagaries that were played by circles; the unaccountable consequences that resulted from marks like fly’s legs; the tremendous effect from a curve in a wrong place, not only troubled my waking hours, but reappeared before me in my sleep. “When I had groped my way blindly through those difficulties and had mastered the ‘alphabet,’ which was an Egyptian temple itself, then there appeared a possession of new horrors called ‘arbitrary characters’—the most despotic characters I have ever known —which insisted, for instance, that the thing like the beginning of a cobweb meant ‘expectation,’ and that a pen-and-ink sky-rccket meant ‘disadvantageous.’

“When 1 had fixed these wretches in my mind, I found that they had driven everything else out of it. Then, beginning again, I forgot them. Then, while I was picking! them up, I dropped the other fragments of the system. In short, it was almost heartbreaking.” He was very yonng at this time to be so persevering. He was a mere bov reporter when at last he got the thing learned. He continues: “I went into the gallery of the House of Commons as a parliamentary reporter when I was a boy not eighteen, and I left it—l can hardly believe the inexorable truth —nigh thirty years ago; and I have pursued tho calling of a reporter under circumstances T>f whiefi many of my brethren here, and my brethren’s successors, can form no adequate conception. “I have often transcribed for the printer from my short-hand notes important public speeche-s in which the strictest accuracy was required, and a mistake in which would have been to a young man severely compromising, writing on the palip of my hand by the light of dark lantern, in a post-chaise and four, galloping through a wild country through the dead of night, at the then surprising rate of fifteen miles an hour. “The very lasi time I was at Exeter \ I strolled into the castle-yard there to ) identify, for the amusement of a friend, the spot on which I ‘took’ an election speech of my noble friend, Lord Bussell. It was in the midst of a livelY fight kept up by all the vagabonds in the vicinity, and under such pelting rain that I remember two good-natared colleagues, who chanced to be at leisure, held a pocket handkerchief over my note-book, after the manner of a state canopy in an ecclesiastical procession. “I have worn my knees by writing on them on the old back row of the House of Commons, and I have worn my feet by standing to write in a preposterous pen in the old House of Lords, where we used to be huddled like so many sheep.— Exchange. I 1

Produelive of Profanity.

“Look here, Squildig,” said Fangle, “I thought this Indian school at Carlisle was to aid in making moral men of the Indians.” “You thought aright,” responded Squildig. “But I find that instead of that it is engaged in the work that will surely be productive of profanity.” “How is that?” “It has just made three car-loads of stovepipe and sent it to the different Indian agencies. Just wait till the big chiefs begin to put up these stovepipes, and see how the school will make moral Indians of them. ” —Pitts burg h Chronicle.

A Popular Business.

He: Young Webster, who has been Out of employment so long, has finally persuaded his father to set him up in business. has he gone into? He: Firing China. He tells me its quite a business, and he’s going to make lots of money. She: Yes, it seems to be quite popular. Mr. and Mrs. Shying, across the street, occupy most of their spare time at it, and they make quite a business of it, too. They ordered their fourteenth dinner set yesterday.

Equal to Fire Clay.

You can’t destroy a false set of teeth in the retort pf a crematory. This I deem one victory of art over nature. Our own teeth we can reduce to ashes with the rest of the body, but false teeth and gold plate hold their own. Silver plates or any other substance Used by dentists will disappear, but 4,QOO degrees of heat have been, turned on artificial teeth without destroying them, and the gold rivets in the teeth after that heat has been applied will also be found intact .—Crematory expert.

Two Ways of Looking at It.

Fond Father—“ How is your boy getting on at college, Smith?” Smith—“ First-rate; I believe.” Fond Father “Strange; boy doesn't stapd well in his class, at all, and yet I believe he is a very hard student. What do you suppose can be the matter?” 4 ' Smith—“ Maybe he’s too hard.”— New York Mail and Fxpress. Genteel poverty means no carriages, no horses, no box at the opera, one silk dress in the year, no society, and gloves made by any one else in the world except Jouvin. f ,

PITH AND POINT.

■■ j. £ A discarded apple core has & gnawed •> look. A”' Money is quite plentiful now —in bank vaults. Boarding house butter is not like Samson. It does not lose its strength when robbed of its hair.— Texas Siftings. African lions are worth from SI,OOO to $5,000. Society lions are quoted “steady at 10 cents.”— Brooklyn Times. •A correspondent asks: *Do poets ever commit'Snicide ?” If they do, it doesn’t kill them—judging from the overstocked market. Norristown Herald. We have long wondered what language it was which the mule speaks so melodiously, and after much study we are forced to the conclusion that it is He-bra-ic.— Texas Siftings. “The large cow,” says an agricultural contemporary, “is going to be the coming cow.” If that is the case we will gracefully retire over the fence when we see one.— Texas Siftings A South Carolina woman recently rode twenty miles through the rain to be married. When a woman manes up her mind to do anything it takes heaps of inconvenience to stop her.— Chicago Ledger. man’s a fool. As a rule man’s a fßol. When it’s hot ho wants It cool. When it’s cool he wants it hot, Always wanting what it’s not, Never liking what he’s got. '< I maintain, as a rule, Man’s a tool. * — St. Paul Globe.

Did you ever wake up in the night and muse upon what a nice eternal fitness there is about all things? Scissors came into use three centuries before the art of printing was invented. Progress understands her business. — Chicago Ledger. Wuat is the difference between a dog’sTvoice and the mist which rises from a swamp? The latter is the dark of a bog, while the former is the bark of the dog. And yet the sun rises once every day and doesn’t go down till sun- ' set.— Washington Hatchet. It is claimed that lovesickness checks the growth of young people. However this may 'be in a general sense, it is not true in special. In the case of people in that condition, it is well known that their lips frequently grow fast— Texas Siftings. An East Saginaw rooster recently hatched out a brood of chickens. Mrs. Booster was probably off attending a hen contention to send combs and feathers to the poor naked heathen pullets, and so was too busy to attend to her own.— St. Paul Herald. M. J. Wawrzywriazkowski has been appointed a census taker in Milwaukee. It was a bad selection. After Mr. Waw—and so forth—has written his own name and that of his family, he will be so exhausted that his physician will order him to spend a couple qt months at the seaside to recuperate.— Norristown Herald,. figurative astronomy. Astronomy is 1 rierful And interesting, 2; Tho ear 3 volves around the sun Which makes a year 4 you. The moon is, dead and calm, By law of i>hya (> groat; It’s 7 where the stars alive Do nightly scintil 8. If watchful Providence he 9 With good in 10 tions fraught Did not keep up its grand design We sood would come to 0. Astronomy is 1 derful, But its 2 80 4 1 man 2 grasp, and that is why I’d better say no more. — H. C. Dodge, in Chicago Suti. Mistress —“ What! you want your wages raised already ? Why, you have not been in this country a month; yon know nothing of American housekeeping, and 1 am now paying you as much as the most experienced servants get!” “Yes, mum; I know, mum. But you see times is very dull now.” “I should say they were.” “Yes, mum. Me brother Mickey is out on a strike; me cousin Jim’s out of work; me cousin Philip, and cousin John, and cousin George, they all had their wages reduced.” “Well, what has that, to do with it?” “Yon see, mum, I must take care of the whole family now, mum.”— Philadelphia Call.

The Reporter Could Stand It.

He sauntered into a first-class confectionery store, pays the Portland Argils, and casually took an innocentlooking gumdrop from a tray and proceeded tocrunch it. The e fleet was _ sudden and startling. It seemed as if his mouth was filled with molten lead, and the fumes of a powerful acid were pouring up the nostrills. It started the tears in the man’s eyes, and created a deep longing for a cooling drink. He said not a word, but his appealing look touched the heart of the proprietor, who remarked: “They are tilled with bell- . peppers and are manufactured in Boston for the sole purpose -of helping along the efforts of practical jokers.” The •victim said he was no practical joker, and didn’t think it right to joke a man so. Just then he espied a merchant ‘friend coming in, and, he was at once very anxious for the confectioner to play a trick on him, forgetting how mean he thought it was a moment before. The merchant accepted the proffered confection without hesitation. In an instant he gasped two or three, times, hurriedly removed his glasses and wiped the tears from his trembling eyes, and rushed toward the door to get the air. When he cape back he said he had never suffered so in so short a time, during his whole -life. He thought his tongue was burning off at the roots. The hard-hearted wretch who had been the first victim, stood there and floated over half a dozen friends wbo came in and were treated. Some of them swore roundly, ?but the majority took it as a huge joke, and begged a few of the candied bellpeppers to feed their friends, At length a nwspaper man entered, and the experiment was tried on him. He never flinched a particle, did not remove his glasses, didn't even wink, but devoured the confections as fast as they were given him. He said they were pretty warm, but he liked them because they Were sweet. He Would have kept on eating until the confectioner’s stock was exhausted if he had been permitted. : - The first printing press in the United States was introduced in 1729.,