Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 August 1877 — Page 4

THURSDAY, AUGUST 16,1877.

SUGAR

is tumbling in price, and the

laborers of the land are glad that the ten per cent, cul business is not confined to them.

TURKEY is going into greenback extensively. Now that our discontented Greenbackers know where the land of liberty and lots of papei money is, it is to be hoped they will feast their eyes on Turkey and grow fat.

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TOM. SCOTT.

In another column of this issue of the GAZETTE will be found a circular letter addressed by Col. Thomas A. Scott, President of the Pennsylvania Central railroad to those of his femployes who did not engage in the late strike. In his letter he reviews the condition of the rail road business daring the past few years and the position of the Pennsylvania road towards its employes. He states that his company was among the last to reduce wages and that it was not done until the dividends on 6tock had been reduced several times. He further states that the reduction in dividends on stockshave been more than twice as much as the diminishment of wages, and that the stockholders have more reason to complain than the employes of the hardness of the times. But it was not our purpose to review his letter. We on ly wished to call the attention of the reader to it as the presentation of anoth. er side of a controversy which has attracted such universal attention. Whether the statrtnents he makes cover the exact facts or not, we do not know, but it is certainly presumable that he would not make any assertions which could be easily refuted bv a thousand men.

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CHAUNCEY ROSE.

The death at twentv minutes past sev en last evening of Chauncy Rote was

not unexpected. For months he has been in precariouR health, calling for the constant solicitude of his friends and the

community which has learned to look on him as a father. For sixty years he has been the leading citizen here. His life

has been so bound up in the interests ot the place that, the story of his acts constitute the annals of the town.

His life, though, perhaps, lacking in some of the gentler virtues found in men

of less educated opinions, has been a shining light. 'It is a lesson of industry honesty, generosity—of all the manlier

virtues which will live with ever recurring freshness in the memories of Terre Hauteans for generations to come. *A careful sketch of such a

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life requires the experienced. pen of a historian ar.d it is with regret that a daily paper, printed alike with the hurry

of events, must relinquish that task. In our local columns will be found a modest notice of his life, together with other particulars of absorbiryj interest re­

specting the sad event.

A NEW VIEW OF THE STRIKES. Rev. Joseph Cook ot Boston seems to be the sky rocket of orthodoxoy, as Pope Bob Ingersoll is of heterodoxy. Bob requires an impossible mathematical demonstration before he will believe any positive statement, concerning an ethical question, settled. He thus becomes the most skeptical of men, with a creed all made up of negations. He undertakes to build up nothing, his whole attention being directed* to the •'^destruction of existing beliefs. But, to our thinking, Pope Bob's method is not less likely to lead him into error than that of his clerical antithesis Rev. Joseph Cook. He has been delivering a series of lectures at the Fair Point meetings. His latest was on skepticism, and in it he makes the very remarkable assertion that the cause of the railroad strikes is the habitual violation of the sanctity of Sunday by running passenger trains on that day. This is really a refreshing exhibition of credulity. If the logic of the reverend gentleman holds good, we may look out for squalls on street car lines, which, after feeble mutterings from the elect, have persevered, and now run extra cars on Sunday, to the great relief of that large class which is rich enough to afford a five cent ride but cannot keep a carriage. We may also expect some trouble among managers of blast furnaces, and a thousand and one different institutions which are operated seven days in the week. Rev. Cook, lectured at Fair Point on Monday. It is altogether prob able that his lecture on that day was heard by several hundred persons who traveled on Sunday, and who would not have been able to hear him but for the fact that the roads run such trains. When the Revk Gentleman has satisfactory established the position that the strikes -were due to Sabbath breaking and not to insufficient wages, it is to be hoped that he will give a clerical notion of the origin and cause of the Chicago fire. He ought to be able to establish the fact beyond all peradventure, that that tremenduous misfortune was altogether and entirely owing to the wickedness of the people the city by the Jake. .. ....

VICTUALING PITTSBURG.

A BRAKEMAN V/UO BECAME GENERAL MANAGER OF THE FORT WAYNE ROAD, ASSISTING TO RAISE THE *IFT BLOCKADE AND PROVISION Y.

THE CITY. AND A PROBABLE FAILURE. .. iProm the Pittsburg Post, July 28. An important action of a sub-commit-tee on public safety, yesterday, was a conference with Mr. Robert Aumond, a brakeman for the past year on the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne and Chicago Railwav, who rejoices in the honor of having, for three days, taken from the hands of General Manager Laying the sold control and management of the road and its branches. On Saturday evening he was an humble brakeman on Sunday morning he was a great railroad manager and magnate, dispatching trains, receiving all dispatches from employes, officials stockholders, even from Manager Laying himself on Tuesday evening he had resigned his high office and sat in the door of his little cottage, with his blooming wife and child, a simple brakeman again, happy that the burdensome responsibili ty had been shifted from his mind. Of course, it was usurpation, but it was power all the same, and while in office he bore his honors with becoming dignity-

WHAT THE CONFERENCE MEANT. Knowing his influence with the trainmen the Sub-Committee requested the conference for the purpose of inducing him to use his power to eftect the raising of the freight blockade upon the ad, so far, at least, as was necessary for provisioning the city. The Committee see that a serious if not dangerous, lack of provision is imminent, and the Fort Wayne Road presents the most promising inlet for supplying this want. The result of the conference was that Mr. Ammond promised his influence to this limited extent, and the Committee of seven members of the Committee of Safety was appointed to meet jointly with Committees of Conference previously appointed by the trainmen, and the officials of the road respectively. Subsequently, Mr. Ammond called upon Mr. Laying to plead with him fUrther to restore the ten per cent, subtracted from the wages of the employes, and thus secure at once two blessings —the provisioning of the city and the raising of the disasterous blockade. This consultation was not at all satisfactory to citizens or trainmen.

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AT DIETRICH'S HALL.

Late yesterday afternoon a meeting of trainmen was held at Dietrich's Hall, corner otfBever and Washington avenues, Allegheny. The Committee of Seven, from the Committee of Public Safety, were present, with Mavor Phillips and Mr. Ammond I he meeting lagged. Speeches were made by members of the Committee, friendlv and pacificatory in character, All went quietly until Ammond arose and offered a resolution in effect that one engine be steamed up, a train of fourteen freight cars manneu, and taken out in the interest of dealers who should use the train, provis ion it, take thirteen cars and give the fourteenth to the train-men in remuneration for their services, they to distribute the contents of the car to the strikers and their families. It was a strange, a very Communistic proposition, ignoring all claim of the Pennsylvania Company to remuneration for the use of their property, but that was not the thing at stake. But the objector was there—the "boss kicker," as those who favored the resolution dubbed him. He arose and made a yiolent speech, the burden of which wab that not a wheel of a box-car should turn. A hubbub was raised, and the promising resolution scattered to the winds. The meeting soon adjourned, the only subsequent action of importance being the passage of a resolution which provides that the trainmen will furnish men to run a passenger train to Chicago and return each day one to Erie and return one to Enon and return, and one through mail train per day each way, and concluding with a cynical clause permitting the Pennsylvania Company to run any other trains they wish, "providing they can get the men." The meeting was a pattern of good order, the speeches by the train men well-spo-ken and sensible,. and the conduct was surprisingly parliamentary. But the tenor of every speech favored a vigorous and persistent maintenance of the demand for a restoration of the ten per cent reduction.

ARTEMUS WARD TO A LITTLE

r*

GIRL-

A recently discovered letter.] 1 Salem, Mass., June IS. 1864. My Dear Amelia—I can not tell you how much I miss you,

It seems as though I had lost all my relatives, including my grandmother and the cooking-stove.

Why didn't I put you in a bottle and bring you down here with me? But I am always forgetting something. The other day I went off and forgot my Aunt Sarah, and she'r a good deal bigger than you are. Mr. Ramsey is also a very forgetful man. He frequently goes off and forgets his washerwoman. Mr. Ramsey is a very fine lpoking man. He reminds me of Mr. Green, the Maiden murderer. When Mr. Ramsey goes to the penetentiary, which will be very soon, we must6end him doughnuts, magazines and other literary documents. Mr. Ramsey can read print very well

I like you very much. I should like you just as well if you were twelve years oldei. I am very singular about some things.

You spoke to me about a boy who is my rival. I should feel very sorry to kill that boy, but he may drive me to it. I am in hopes that he will take himself into a premature tomb—that he may choke himself with a large slice of pudding, but if he does neither I shall feel forced to load him with chains and read all my lectures to hup. That will finish him. His boots may remain, but the rest of him will have perished miserably long ere I haue got through.

You must be a good little girl, and always mind your mother. Never let your excellent mother feel sorry that she is acquainted with you. If it hadn't been for her you might have got drowned in a soup-plate long ago. And if you hadn't ever had any mother you might now be in Turkey with the other Turkeys. In fact, my dear Amelia, so conduct yourself that even on dark and rainy days the bright sun may shine wherever you are, and that the stars (which are next to the sun in brightness) may never flash so brilliantly but that you can always look steadily and hopefully towards them. Faithfully, your friend,

A.WARD.

CHOKER'S GHOST:

A SECRET WELL KEPT.

The only true ghost story I know is the story of Choker's ghost. That is a positive fact well attested. All the neighbors know what, happened. All the neighbors saw how it began, and as it is the story of Choker's ghost it could not have begun until Choker died.

Old Choker had been called so for a good many years—before he was actually old, I should suppose but he was a very queer fellow, a man without relatives or friends, and who seemed to want none,

He was a mysterious man, too. He had a wooden leg, and no one knew how he came by it.

He had a black patch over one eye, and no one could tell why he wore it. He had a rusty brown wig, and there was n« man intimate enough to know whether he adopted it because he was bald, or because he was gray.

He had a deposit in the bank, and no one knew how he earned the money. He came a stranger to Grabtown, and bought a house and a little farm there, giving his name as Guy Choker.

That was all that anvbodv knew about him, except that he had the best crops to be seen for miles around.

He never went to chuich, and never chatted to a neighbor. No one knew anything against him as they knew nothing, they suspected a great deal and when at last he was found dead^ one morning,, all the bottled-up curiosity popped out as champagne does when it is uncorked.

Everybody went to see him where he lay. Everybody attended the inquest, and everybody went to the funeral.

It was decided that he died of apoplexy. There was no relative to see him, but there would probably be plenty left to pay for his funeral, so there was no difficulty about that.

The clergyman said a doubtful sort of a good word for hiin, and as he was dead, no one contradicted it.

And Peggy Kinder, who said 6he wasn't afraid of anything, was put into the house to take care of it.

She knew old Choker very well, having done washing for him for five years. That night, the weather being chilly spring weather, she made up a good fire in the kitchen and slept on an old lounge there. Once in the night she woke up and thought she heard the clump, clump, clump of a wooden leg overhead, but though she felt a chill run up her backbone at the thought, 6he made up her mind that it was all nonsense, and went to sleep again.

At six she was up and had put more coal on the fire, and was filling the kettle, when positiyely—no fancy about it this time—she did hear that clump, clump again across the room up stairs, half a dozen times, then down the stairs.

The sound of Choker's wooden leg and nothing else, and as she turned about, shaking and trembling, she saw Choker himself at the door in his bigflowered dressing-gown, with the black patch over his eye, and the brown wig on.

Then as Choker nodded cheerfully, and said: "Breakfast ready yet?" she grew bewildered. "I've been having a horrid dream, sir," she said, getting away lrom the figure, though, as she spoke, "and it's as natural as life. 1 dreamed you were dead, sir, but it was so natural that you skeer me." "Do 1?" said old Choker. "Why, bless me, we must all die," "Yes, 6ir!" said Peggy.

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"And all be buried, too," said Choker, "I know that," said Peggy. "Only all of us won't stay buried," said Choker, putting his finger to his nose.

And at that Peggy, never waiting even for her bonnel, boited out of the house, and came tumbling into her daughter's half an hour after, shaking with I right, and vowing that she had seen Choker's ghost.

The daughter was nearly as much frightened as the mother, and the news spread, but nobody believed it.

At least every one said it was ridiculous, and that Peggy must have been drinking

She did drink more than was good for her now and then and at last the undertaker himself, accompanied by the coro--net—the two men nervous on the subject of ghost6, and besides who had a thorough knowledge of Choker's death and burial—went to the house together, accompanied by a train of admirers, ^ho kept at a respectful distance as they knocked at the door

There was no answer to the first knock, but having knocked again, clump, clump came a wooden leg across the passage, and there in the door stood old Choker:

Every one knew him. He wore his old dressing gown, he had tne biar patch over his eye, his wig set a little back on one side as usual. "Walk in, walk in, gentlemen," he said "I believe, Mr. Undertaker, I owe you a small bill. You are prompt in calling for it but never mind, never mind. Let me see the amount, and I'll settle it if not to-day, some other day."

The iwo men drew bac*. "I have no bill, tir," said the undertaker "but hearing a report that— that 7* i- -"i "That Peggy'had seen my ghost,' I suppose," said Choker. "Very well, sir, draw your own conclusions but you deserve to be paid. You buried me very respectably, very respectably, indeed and your jury gave acoriect verdict, Mr. Coroner. It was apoplexy. Ah, well, .don't go: don't be in a hurry." •'It is Choker," said the undertaker to ihe coroner "yet I buried him, and he was a dead man then." "It's Choker, but he was dead when I held as inquest over him," said the coroner.

They hurried away and the crowd hurried av«ay too. That day thegiave was examined.

It was empty! even Choker's coffin was gone. Atter that every one believed the story but the clergyman and a scientific gentleman.

The former declared that it was wicked to believe in ghosts, that there was no such things as gtiosts. "Choker is not at the house at all," he said, "and his body is in the grave, but your imaginations have been so worked upon that you laneied you saw him in the house, and you believed you did not 8ee him in the grave. When a man is dead and buried that's an end of him." "But go to the house and see for yourself" said some onei%$"Alire er dead, Choker is there." "Sir," said the scientific gentleman, 'neither alive nor dead, can he be there.

body can not burst its coffin lid, arise through the turf, and walk about the town as before. Nor can a spirit exist without a body. It I should see Mr. Choker I should not believe him. My common sense tells me that I can not see him, and I nevei allow nay senses to contradict my common sense. The house is empty. There is no one there. It is all imagination."

However that may have been, every one else in Grabtown saw him sooner or later.

The lamp burned bright- in the window at night The garden prospered under his ghostly tutilage. He drew money at the bank as usual.

As a ghost, his silent,reserved conduct seemed very suitable to his condition. As a ghost, it seemed very proper that he should have no friend and no kindred.

People avoided his house of nights, and boys ran scampering away when they saw him plodding along lonely lanes by moonlight. The old folks shook their heads and said it was curious but there was Choker, a tact to everyone but the scientific gentleman, who, when he passed him, muttered to himself, "Optical illusion," and whether he was a ghost or a man endowed with the power of defying death and the undertaker no one jfelt prepared to answer.

He was known sometimes as "Choker's ghost," and sometimes as "Choker that came to," but no one doubted for a moment that somehow he was Choker, and the very Choker that had been dead, subjected to an inquest, and buried and all this went on for ten good years, and people had grown used to it, when, one cold winter naming, a small note was brought,to tlje doctor, bearing these words: "Come to me. I'm ill. CHOKER." "Don't go, dear," said the doctor's wife. "I must,'' said the doctor and went accordingly.

He found the door of Choker's house open, and the popular ghost himself wrapped in a blanket by the fireside. "Come in," he said gasping for breath "I wasn't sure you'd come. I've been feeling the inconvenience of being supernatural since I've been too ill to make myself a cup of tea. Just see what is the matter with me, will you! I think it's serious whatever it is."

The doctor did his best. His private opinion was that Choker, whoever he might be, had not long to live.

Whether he had ever been dead before or not, he was certainly going to die new. "It is as I thought," said Choker, looking into his face "I knew the malady was incurable years ago. But the end is at hand now, eh?" "In the case of any other man I should say yes," said the doctor "but I examined you once when you were certainly a dead man, and I can't judge for you. I don't ask your confidence, Mr. Choker, but that affair is a puzzle to me, though of course I have never taken you for a ghost." "I think I'll confide in you, doctor," said Choker, "only you must promise me to keep my *ecret while I live. The night before you held the inquest on old Choker I came into Grabtown. I'd been an actor once, then a soldier lost a leg, and came home to starve or beg. "The door of the house stood open, and in it stood a man, I went up to him. "Sir,' said I, 'they say that a fellow's feelings makes us wondrous kind. You have got a wooden leg, and perhaps, knoty it isn't just the thing to stump over the country all night with,' "It was old Choker I-spoke to, and what he said was: "I dor-'t understand about your poetry or scripture or whatever it is, but I do know about weoden legs. Come in. "I went in and he gave me supper and a bed in the garret. We both saw we looked considerably alike, and laughed over it. That night I slept in the garret, and when I awoke in the morning I found my host was dead, and the house full of neighbors. "I felt that the death was sudden. It might be best for me to keep out of sight. I was as sorry for it as a stranger could be, but my being there might be considered suspicious. I kept hidden up there in the garret^, in a great lumber closet, and heard poor Choker's affairs talked over, and learned his habits. "Some of his old clothes were up in thegirret, and an old wig and one of the patches he had worn over his right eye was there too and there was an old dressing-glass in the corner. I tried on the wig and the patch, and saw how like old Choker they made me look, only I was not so brown. Then I took some walnuts that lay on the floorand rubbed the juice'into my skin. It increased the resemblance so did whitening my eyebrows with a piece of chalk. And I sat down and looked at myself, and the plan that I afterward carried out came into my head. I would play old Choker, as I knew I could. "I studied his voice and movements well as I told you, I had once been an actoi, and so I should step into a decent home and comfortable means without hurting any one. The night after he was buried I came out of the garret and went to the graveyard, and 'not to enter into details you'll find Choker's coffin in the vault beyond his grave. Then I went back and tried the effect of my disguise on poor old Peggy Kinder. It satistied me. I haven't led a merry life, though I knew it would not be a long one. "But I've been very comfortable, and shan't die a dog's death out of doors, as I once expected. I've never been afraid that Choker really would haunt me, though I'm a trifle superstitious, for I think he couldn't find much fault with me, as iie had no relatives, never made a will, and couldn't take either his bankbook or his house and farm into the other world with him. "And now you have had the story, and you've promised to keep the secret until the last. You can see now, perhaps, that Choker and I was a good deal alike. I'm four inches taller than he was, for one thing, and my nose is higher. But there's a good deal in make-up."

These were almost the last words Choker's ghost ever spake, for his end was very near, and it was not until-

"Death had taught him more than this melancholy world uoth know,"

that the doctor let Grabtown know the sequel of its ghost story.

When the lightning struck Harriet Beecher Siowe's house the other day, it killed a cat and knocked the old man Stowe down. Its object was to have the world know that such a man as S.Uwe was on earth, 7/H.

THE FLY

HIS CHARACTER,HIS AVIDITY, HIS USEFULNESS, AND LOTS OF OTHER THIHGS ABOUT HIM.

FhlUadelphU Times,

The saying goes: "Flies come in cher-ly-time" And the saying is true. Cherries have been about for two or three weeks, and for two or three weeks, except in a few brief interregnums, caused by cold usurpations of weather, the flies have been about. Rule—they will now hold high carnival, in despite of boys, birds and fly-papfer until the cold north wind the late fall forces them away until another cherry time comes. Every body cries "alas!" that the sweet morning hours in which one's sleep is more sweet because, perhaps, of the dear malicious thought that so many others must then be awake and at work, are new divided into poor, impatient segments by the buzz and jjonr.ee and tickle of the assiduous enemy." Now is the time when one must choose between excluding the air, with the light which is indispensable to Mr. Fly's activity, or else ode must suffer his attacks until he has succeeded in accomplishing his diabolical purpose of awakening the sleeper. He will follow his victim to meals, and will taste in advance all the dainties of the table with that filthy proboscis of his, lately where, who knows? Nay, moreover, he will trample over them with feet never washed. He will seek his human prey when the sun has conspired with the task of man's everyday labor to lay upon the faces of men the salt moisture and excretory debris of perspiration, to gall his victim in the verv moments when mo6t sensitive. It will be no comfort to the average man to think that all the fly asks at such times is meat and drink, which he finds in such admirable intermixture upon the dripping human brow. Let him forage elsewhere no nobler scientific devotion or self-denial shall prevent the average man lrom slapping his life out if Mr. Fly can only be once hit—this "if is a tatal one— for the agility and elusiveness ot the fly is his most Satanic attribute. Could men but destroy all human arid animal and circumstantial that annoys them, they would be as happy as the accomplished violinist Nero. But to bear* and helplessly suffer is, together with much adverse else, what makes men all sad and gray before their time and the fly is no small part of the cause for this. Woe to the "small boy," or man, either, now, who has sacrificed his hair to the sgn in hope to win gifts from the god of coolness and ease. Long hair is a shelter from the fly, but great is his joy in lightly skipping over the polled stubble, and great is the suffering and pawing of hands and upstarting anger of the object ot his walks abroad.

Of the loves of the fly it is not necessary to speak further than to hint that he isdiffusely polygamous and of a repetition most intemperate. And thus it is that the nameless larvse which are the infancies of all the teeming millions of these pe6ts are so innumerable. The fly does not support his family and so can afford to have it very large, indeed. But the fly is not an uninteresting animal by any means, if his disagreeable relation to mat} can be effaced from consideration. He is very energetic. The earliest dawn arouses him, and nothing abates his activity until dusk robs him of his dear light and puts him to roost on ceiling or wall. His movements are extremely quick and animated. He walks about with a rapidity to make one suppose he is engaged in the most vitally useful of tasks and has to get through to meet a sharp appointment. When he flies it is not the sustained dignity and directness of the bee, for example, but it is a series of zigzags, with corners very sharp, reminding one very much of an auctioneer darting hither and thither upon a bidder. Even when he seems to be taking his ease and shade in hot noons beneath the trees, his repose consists merely of retaining pretty much the same position all the time by squaring it or flying off and returning at tangents to it, so that you must wonder at the immense resources the animal expends in never getting on and never wishing to get on. Indeed, he is never quiet save when he is eating or asleep. Doubtless his quiet eating is only apparent, for, from the time he spends at it, he must be working very busily with his mouth. And as for his quiet when he is asleep, it is very clear to mortals that his legs would be much more at ease if he went regularly to bed on his back, instead of hanging by his feet in that rash trapeze-performer style. And then his acute sagacity in finding his meals. How readily he finds his human prey out as it lies asleep before the tables are pet and the groceries are open. How far-reaching his discernment of sugar and carrion! With what genius does he find the weak, unprotected places of the horse and the dog and the cow! What discriminating contempt has he for the cat, whom he rarely touches, and is apt to get caught if he does! How admirable his easy improvidence, which makes him live to eat and love and sleep, and his ardent faith which intrust his numerous brats to the fortuitous kindnesses of that ever-reliable guardian, Future! Take him altogether, men can learn a good lesson from him if they feel tike it this warm weather, albeit they can not learn it all until they see him die next fall in the first nipping adverse breath.

And lastly, for the usefulness of the fly —not a real apparent usefulness which, after all, might win this enemy some little esteem, but rather that usefulness which nature's God has beautifully arranged to come out even from the selfisness ot the creature as honey trom the dead Lion's jaw. It is hi6 voracity which makes him scavenger, and a most useful one, as any one who watches his feeding places may see. And further than this, his rapid and erratic and net-like flights upon his forays for food and diversions ot love and siestas in the shade are said to be most useful in clear ing the air of millions of tiny insects and germs, which he carries upon his glutinous cane as he goes uron his mazy way, and which he scrapes off with those forefeet of his into the dust of death for man's benefit. With this last a moral may be pointed by the reader unless prevented by—"there's that pesky fly again,"

Mehemet Ali, the successor of Abdul Kerim, according to a French paper (which is probably lying), is the son ot a French musician, who shipped him as a cabin boy to get rid of him. The boy ran away from his vessel at Constantinople, found a place in the kitchen of AH Pash3, the visier, recommending himself to his master by his sprightliness and received an education.apd a commission in the armv.

GAZETTELETS.

Nilssoh is not to sing in these United States next season. Whortleberry griddle-cakes are the atest epicurean novelty.

When you draw on a kid glove remember that to make it requires c.oSo stitches.

Now is the time to preserve brandy by putting peaches into it.

"He grabbed me hair and wallowed me in the dust," said a Western witness. Webb Hayes drinks his lemonade out of a tea cup to avoid even the appearance of evil.

Don't eat or talk too much this hot weather. Now is a good, time to let your mouth take a vacation,

Annie Louise Cary is suffering from an attack of hay fever, and has been confined to her bed for several days.

The disposition to swap spoons while eating ice cream is what often distinguishes young people from young pigs.

The New York World tells of "a new cure for women," and the Boston Globe is surprised to hear that there is any cure.

Twilight la»ts till the sun is iS degrees below the horizon, when the solar rays are reflected from a height of forty-four miles.

Judge Biddle of the Supreme Court of Indiana has over one hundred beautiful white rabbits at his inland home, near Logansport.

A lad in one of our poly technic institutes recently described the United States as "a country too much infested with railroads."

The German Cabinet takes the summer easily. A letter of July 14 states that the Minister of Worship is the only member of it in Berlin.

The colored Baptist Church at Florence, S. C„ has summarily dismissed those of its members who are implicated in late robberies in that section.

The way a Long Branch maid gets rid of an objectionable lover is to let him gaze upon her ugliness when in a wet bathing suit.

M. L. Denayrouse, the well-known French dramatist, sadl/ denies the rumor of his approaching marriage with the daughter of Alexander Dumas.

A German dairy maid in Jeffersott County fell head first into a tank of soft switzer cheese last week. Here it is again. A woman in the case us usual.

A woman was fore bly ejected from the session of the great Pan-Presbyterian Council. Her protest was: "I will not leave can I not listen to truth with men.

Last week a Newark manufactory re" ceived an order for ten thousand corkscrews. The camp-meeting season is the pleasantest of the year.—New York World.

Some fellow has written an essay entitled "How to Get Married without a Mastei." But a man, in nine cases out of ten, gets a master as soon as he gets married.

VA

Mississippi Granger is opposed to railroads. He says that when he goes to town they "bring him home so quick he hasn't time to get sober before he arrives."

Finding alter fifty years of married life that they still can not agree, a Massachusetts pair have divided their property and separated. Neither ot them is under seventy-five years of age.

Old-time wedding favors are again in vogue. They consist ot siittle spravs of white jessamine tied with while satin ribbon for ladies, and for gentlemen, a spray ofgak leaves, an$, acornswithout ribbon.

The Turin Courts have just condemned to death a woman for paying $60 to a man to kill her Jover «f fourteen years' standing, in order to prevent his falling into the hands of a young woman he was on the point of marrying.

"Why did you name that old horse Napoleon?" asked a gentleman of a negro, whose horse was almost reduced to a skeleton. Why, marse, you see it's caze the bony part is so strong in him."

A North Carolina boy up a tree tied a rope around his neck, told his sister he was going to hang himself, and jumped to the ground, supposing the rope was long enough to reach, but it was seven feet too short and he broke his neek.

A new song is entitled, "Darling, Kiss My Eye-lids down." And no young man is going to refuse to comply with such a delicious request as that. But the excuse that eyelids won't go shut without being kissed down, is rather gauzy. -A-

Somewhere in Wilbraham, Mass., lfves an honest man. Mr. Markham's cow lately camc home at night with a bit of paper fastened to her horn containing six cents and this note: "Enclosed find six cents for one quart milk taken this forenoon."

The oldest Jewish congregation America is the Sheriih Israel of New York, which was organized in 1684 the next in age is in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, organized in 1775 the third ism Philadelphia, organized in 1780.

A young mother in this city explaining christening to her five year-old bov, told him that when he was christened he •would be one of God's little Iambs." "And will I have hind legs and baa?" eagerly asked the boy.—[Wilmington Every Evening.

A Chinese minister in Washington went hear the Marine Band play. He was particularly impressed with the trombone player and offered him a handsome engagement in China, "for," he said, "I have never seen a juggler who could swallow as much brass as you, and spit it out again, and yet the people here seem to regard it as an everyday occurence."

The theatrical and operatic season of 1877-1878 at Paris is expected to be one of the most brilliant ever knotfn. The first new work to be given at the Italiens is already looked forward to with the keenest interest by all amateurs of opera, for its composer is the great Rubinstein, and its author the no less appreciated Jules Barbier. Its title is '•Ncron,'* and it is to be given witha splendor quite exceptional at the Italiens. The Grand Opera and Opera Lyqriue have bath a most,,attractive programme of, novelties.