1881-04-09; Clare County Press

              ~;k-,V-i»J.4^^tti!ifc;.i7/^^ ^i. -
.1*7 i
*_^    se M-
|1.50 per Year, Always in Advance,
YOLUME ill.
A WewspsipeF f#i\ -.'Ssre COTLmtjo
D. 1. ALWARD, MMer.
CLARE, MICHIGAN, SATC 3D AY, APRIL 9, 1881.
o®!iPAmir isiEniMiiSQ.
A MiSe lovo,
A BtHa glove,
A V&&3 rosebud foe a toJsoa;
A little sigh.
Sot days gone fay—
A little girl fiaart-bK&cB.
«==£soj!BS Courier.
Another maa
Woos Sarah. Ann,
With, bank-book "well esfemfiej*
"A social crown,
A house in town,
Asjfl Sarah's heart is msaflcSs
—JSr^i York'Oottimesreial.
z     %     -
' AHttleboot,
ATitQa foot,
A liftSe tagging cloesr;
.  ' A Httle tap,
A thundfering rap—
Boirn -ths states lie goes, ste.
**-pjs&2iai_"]Seju;o.
A Httte eiond.
An oath alotJd, '.
A broomeiicli'a flight, aszlcl; .-.'
■  Another swear.
A dutch athair— -^ '
The sestrls—-im-mateiifll.
Ar?
She was bo quisfra&d; gentle ia voice
cax& manner tlwi^lsei * *aniily called her
™ douce" (sweet), and Bono* was her
name to all lier neighbors.
She had bejn christened Helen, but
-to all intents and purposes the nickname
was the only one hy which she was
known. Bhe was not -a pretty girl po
- fear as features and complexion went
but "with nothing mawkish or insipid
about he -, as might be inferred from her
■acme. ...
The tones of her voice were so even,
her movements go quietand deliberate,
that you coidd not 'understand how
Douce was? the ruling mind in a family
oS sis children, five of them boys, and
unruly ones at that. But tbe truth was
■zhe was the most daring of all of them,
' though she would climb the tidiest tree
end ride the most dangerous horse with
"&e same calm composure of manner.
Her mother had been aU invalid for
saany years, and her father, a prosperous merchant at the little town of Oak-
port, about two mfles from bis residence,
^£3 too busy a man to do more thaa
^ass his nights at home, generally too
feed when he reached there to spend
s&ach time in social intercourse with his
_ 'family.
Mr. Turean's  residence-"-" as'1 have
'■ daid/was about  two  miles from town,
"but one  mile was  through  a  thick,
swampy, forest,   very • bad  walking in
sdny weather,   and  dark  and  dismal
enough even on a summer's morning.
" ,7".",-fcb]xy. l^lj^i^'^i^ts^oai^^^
CL,o country people iu the neighborhood,
_ss Sftsen years before & peddler had
ibasB. robbed and killed there, and his
laooly had been found near an old rotten
log by the roadside.   On a large beech
feee which overhung the spot had been
<earved by  some boy,    "Here  Amos
., Crowe was murdered."
Of course, the ghost of the peddler
vas presumed tovhaunt the spot, and,
ss the murderer had not been discovered,*
the ignorant, superstitious people of the
neighborhood all ^believed the spirit
would never rest in its grave until the
criminal who did the deed was brought
lb justice^
Ta the little Tureaus, these woods
were a perpetual delight. Such nutting,
such berries, such persimmon^ were
$ound there, that, in spite of a thrill of
l&rror when they passed the spot of the
..sad tragedy, nothing short of a visible
apparition would have kept them from
* &&e woods.       '   •
Douce, who feared neither man- nor
ghost, was always their leader in these
expeditions. At IG she was as fond of
swinging on grapevines and mounting
te the top of tali trees as when she was
10. This sounds as if Miss Douce Tu-
-xeau was rather tomboyish; but she
"did these things so gravely and quietly
that somehow no one thought of reproving her for her gymnastic feats.
"XiefBouce alone, " said her father.
" Shd has a wary eye, and a firm, strong
grasp, and she'll never come to harm.
Mi% not a ladylike amusement for a
joung g'rl to climb trees, but she is not
a tomboy, and does not climb them be-
-eause she is of a rough, masculine nature. It is, perhaps, an eccentricity,
aad iu her case I accept it when I should
not in some other children. Besides, it
strengtnens her muscles and makes her
hardy."
One fine September morning, Mrs.
'Tureau astonished them all by insisting
upon walking to town with her husband.
"The walk is too long for you, Mary,"
lie remonstrated.
"Bo* indeed," she answered, "I feel
^ual to it. and I prefer the walk to rid-
, ing. 1 wiH spencTthe Hay wl?h Cousin
Jan§, and be quite rested when you return in the evening. Ths cook (Bora),
too, wants to go to town to spend the
day and night with her sister."
■ "As you please; but if Bora is going,
who will stay at home with the children? We shall not get back until after
dusk, you know." '
"You're 110$ afraid to .stay here with
the children, Bouce, are-you?" asked'
. her mother.
"Afraid? Why, mamma, I did not suppose you thought me such a foolish eow-
ard!   What can harm us?"
Of course it did not seem" as if there
could be anything to harm them in that
*quiet place"; so, after an early break-
-iast, the children walked part of the
■way to town with their parents* Douce
«tob& and looked after them as they left,
<with' a strange heart-sinking, she afterward s^id.
"I thought ife was because mamma
•was always at home," she said. " The
3iouse would seem so lonely without her..
Bat then, I -^as so glad to see her able
to walk again that I could not understand my depressed f eeliug.
There was a deal of work to be done
that day. The house was to be cleaned,
churning doj», and Douee thought she
would surprise her father eaid mother by
a nica tea when they returned. Assisted by her sister Alice, a girl of 12, she
was still hard at^rork when the clock
struck 12.
"Is it possibleT* she cried, "-noon already, and not a thing cooked for dinner ! Well, children, there's bread and
cold meat and some jam in the safe, and
we'll make a cup of tea and haye a
picked-up dinner.'!'
Picked-up din&prs, with tea and jam,
are things not to be despised by children. They sat flown, a merry, noisy
party, to the tabled v.
" Hush, children!" cried Alice,
" don't you hear somebody knocking at
the hall door?"
" One of this neighbors, I suppose,"
said Douce.    ** Go, Arthur, and see who
it is."
In a few minutes the boy returned,
breathless.
"It's a horrid old man," he cried,
trwith a gray beferd, and such a red
face, and sueh'dirty hands! and he
asked for the master tot the house, and I
told him pjt was in town, and he said he
must see you, Douce, or somebody."
. 'Douee felt hey heart beat a little
quicker when she reached the hall door
and. saw a repulsive, gnmy-looking ahan,
who had seated himself on the gallery.
'•Well, sissy,"'he said, with an ih-
solent grin, "I'm desperate hungry, and
I reckon you've got to come across some
meat and*bread fior me. Better fetch it
quick lest I take '% bite at you."
The tone was one of command, and,
after a little pause, Douce saw that she
must obey. -• - .
" Better not be too scared to bring my
vittles 1" he ealled out, " pr maybe 111
foller you in spite of locks!"
Bouce felt that the locks would be of
little avail ii the man chose to enter the
house. She hurriedly filled a plate and
serried it to liim.
"This is all we have in the house,"'
she said, quietly.
Without" a word he seised it, and
Bouce watched him ravenously devouring the food like some wild animaL
" Got any whisky or wine ?" he
growled.
"So; nothing but milk," and she
brought him a pitcher full. She tried to
appear unconcerned, snipping the dead
leaves off of hfar geraniums, and whstling
to the mocking-bird in the cage;-but
she knew the faafdgray eyes were watching her every movement.
" Aint you scared, gal, to be left here
alone?" the tram]»said, as he rose and
slung his dirty bundle over his shoulder.
' with a faint .-laugh. ':" My parents will
soon be back."
The man then went boldly into the
hall, and Bouce saw him lotik up stairs
and into the rooms on the lower floor,
She tried to appear cool and indifferent j
but when he marched out of the house
without a word of farewell or thanks she
felt like uttering a cry of relief. She
watched him disappear in the woods,
and then returned to the frightened
children.
This unexpected incident cast a gloom
over her spirits that she eould not throw
off. A sudden shower of rain came up
late in the afternoon, and she began to
fear her parents would remain at Oak-
port all night. The rain, however, held
up before sunset, and her mind was made
up that she and the children must not
remain alone in the house that night.
She felt assured that the tramp would
return.
Without expressing her suspicions,
she said to Alipe, " I must run to Oak-
port, if you don't mind staying a little
while alone with the cMldren."
"But what do you-mean by going at
this hour?" cried Alice. "Pa and ma
will be on their  way back, I reckon."
"It's a great secret!" and Douce
laughed, or tried to laugh. "You'll
know all about it when I get back."
She left the house and walked rapidly
until she got to the woods, but then,
turning from the path, she moved cautiously, looking on every side, and with
the stealthy step of an Indian.
About half way through the woods she
paused and looked intently before her.
Then quickly she seized a vine and
swung herself into a magnolia tree that
was so draped by the gray Spanish moss
that even its leaves could hardly be discerned.
When seated on the tree she was completely hidden from view. Soon after
there was a crackling among the bushes,
and two men eame in view, one of them
her friend of the morning, and the other
quite as wicked looking. They were
lounging slowly along, pausing every
now and then, and their words came distinctly to her.
" Think he'll be back to-night ?" said
one.
"Of course. He's left his children all
alone, ana lie an3 llie t3e doman wSl be
sure to go back. Wish he'd left her at
home. Two 'stead of one, and one on
'em a squally ooman, is hard to manage."
"Did you see the money? Maybe
hell leave it in his store."
" Got it arter the bank shut up. CoL
Sparks, he counted it out, $300, and I
heerd Tureau say, ' Beckon I'd better
take it home to-night, as they say there's
tramps in town.' Didn't'know I was
hstenin' outside." .
Whar's the best place to wait for him T'
said Donee's acquaintance.
"Thebestplaee, where you kin see
furthest, is the peddler's tree. You take
your stand there, and I'll- watch near
town, and foller him behind. When he
eomes up, you ax for a dime, and I'll ba
ready if he kicks np a row when we
"eases him of a few more dimes."
"I don't want to do any killin' e£ it
can be helped," said the other ruffian.
"•We kin gag the ooman. But look
here, Dick, I don't like doin' the job on
that spot.   They say Amos is a-walkm'
round of a night, and maybs .Shs ghost"
mil appear."
"You're a blasted fool I". cried Bick..
"You.git to your post, and dob'tbea
sneak!" ,•.-.'-»«,
They separated, Dick going towftrd
town, and the other slouching sfcrtvly
along in the other direction.
Bonce's heart beat like a sled^e-hath'-
mer. She could not go to town, forthe
only path was blocked up by the ruffian.
She felt sure her parents would be murdered, for she knew' that her father
would resist to the death. By this time,
they must be on the way.
Thought^f ter thought surged through
her brain 'as she sat there, whehj suddenly remembering the tramp's terror of
ghosts, an inspiration eame to her.
She knew a short cut to the peddler's
•tree. In a few minutes, she had descended, and was glidin'g through the
bushes. No one was at the tree, and
she had hidden herself in it when the
tramp appeared, looking timidly around
him.
He stopped nearly under the branches
and looked down the road. Twilight
was passing into darkness whenBottee
heard steps approaching, aud her father's
voice.
She was dressed in white, and, taking
off her apron, she tied it around her
head. As the man was preparing to advance, she uttered aa unearthly groan,
and dropped at his feet.
He gave one look and a screech, and,
taking to his heels, flew like th© wind.
His companion, who was .behind, not
knowing what had happened, joined iu
the flight, and neither of them, were seen
again.
Bouce's explanations" were soon made,
and her father never wearies of telling
the story to every one. He firmly believes that her love of climbing led to
something useful after all, though
quickness ofgmind and <piet moyemeuts
should count for something in the story
of that evening.—Youth's Cwnpafafon.
"Bob'^Toamte Brass Band;-.;''
I suppose every one connected in any
way with the University of Georgia, says
a letter to the Atlanta CottsiUution,' has
heard of the famous oak hi front :of ■ the
chapel, and in connection "With it I will
relate an anecdote of Bob Tombs, allowing his impetuous, irresistible nature,'
which so characterized him in his after
life.
Toombs had been attending college
two vears, and was within & week of
-gradxiatixiis,^ :v?b»»!.^iu"'j*.v dlfFcuHy, ,.V>
' stabbed on<i of 0fe Students;; indicting a":
serious, but not f athl, wound. For this'
act he was expelled by the Faculty, who
soon after were petitioned by the graduating class to allow him to graduate
with them, as he had so nearly
completed his course, and had also
been given a speaker's place.
Toombs himself petitioned them, but
both were refused. He apparently submitted, but on ■commencement day, when
the chapel "was crowded with "Visitors,
and the Seniors vehemently orating preparatory to receiving their diplomas, he
stationed a brass band tinder the spreading limbs of the oak, whose music succeeded in bringing scores bf town people,
who were n$t then in the chapel, an4
also of clearing it of nearly all its auditors.
Then, in as cool a manner as possible,
he placed himself in a chair and made
an oration, such, it is said, as was never
spoken by a student here before or since.
Hfe never received his diploma, though
after his celebrated Boston speech, it
was sent him, but was returned with
the answer: "B—n the diploma; when
it would haye been an honor to me I was
refused it; now, when I am an honor to
it, itisoffered me." He was afterward reconciled with the Faculty, and is now
one of the staunchest supporters of the
college. '   .
.„ Temporary Preachers.
In Boston there is a certain religious
publishing establishment, which is recognized as a headquarters for ministers
seeking temporary preaching places. It
is besieged by a run of preachers who
have a dash of the "carpet-bagger" element in their ecclesiastical and professional make-up. Some of them are men
of talent who are a little run down. Some
are men who have worn themselves out
in pastoral service, some are do-nothings,
and some are very excellent brethren,
who are worthy of steady employment,
but who somehow or other do not manage to be favored with "calls," as their
more lucky brethren are. Any church
wanting a supply for a Sunday is almost
sure to find it here in various grades of
quality, and at corresponding rates'of
pay. The more expensive ministers are
not to be found in thi* way, but rather
the low-priced ones. A few of these receive a3 high a fee as twenty dollars a
Sunday. Many are glad to go for ten,
and there are some whose efforts can be
secured for five dollars. These .five-dollar brethren are not esteemed, either the
most eloquent or the most original. They
generally have a faded manuscript or two
with them. Sometimes they are given
to what they call extemporaneous preaching, that is to say, they preach without
manuscripts, but they give their hearer?
a repetition of what they have preached
over and over again so often that they
have no need of a manuscript as an aid
to memory. This Boston headquarters
of ministerial supply is an informal
thi£g which attends to itself, and has
grown up from the mutual necessities of
churches and ministers. It regulates it-
, self, costs nobody anything, and is worth
a great deal to those who make use of it.
Its operation is qui$t, and few people
except those who are directly benefited
by it know of ita exi^tenca
/  It is no^ life to live for. one's Beli alone.
Let us help one another.
z-^a ,uwrae. IPIEAOEAIPII^
__ Vt?"' V®$ Eailroad company has paid
&passei'w"who lost an ear in an acci-
aenti?,r\"0. '   "    '. - ""
Ovists -iwenty-five thousand tourists
haye.vii 3d the Yosemite Yalley since
itscuW.- ;«yinl865.
FkeJL C railroads ,do onl^ one-third
the pa? -^iger business that is done by
Engfisli- fses.
The ; aau who comes about solely to
kill time should confine himself strictly
tohiso; a time.
St. .1 oxas girls object to rubbers,
'"theyc\ .ii"? the feet so." It must be an
awful It; '11$. even for India rubber;
Adsb- ttes are the millinery of literature, &tA 4&e the trimmings of a dress,
they sh« id' not be allowed to obscure
the'orig "ael fabric.
. If As zm&ns woidd sit longer at dinner-tab! , sad be happy while they eat,
they "W^ -(il have less dyspepsia and a
more clrOrful religion.
It is . &• great pity that some people
grow hi^Zzt as they grow old. It seems
as thot%,-': the more teeth they lose, the
more tit.A- want to bite.
JoAQ'e f .-r SfjEEEB thus describes a remi-
niscenc:)©! an old California friend:
"Bear I* -Ye Colton. I hear he is dead.
We fir.: got acquainted one night an
Y£eka v ile shooting at each other."
A *Mr. - aukee clergyman, asking a cor-
reetiqn i & published report of one of
•liis seri. -• as, remarks: "I do not mind
so snu- ' Iseing taken for a heretic, but
serious!, object to anything which trill
conderu'"» 3ae as a lunatic."
A Be" jE^obt carpenter, while in a fit
of angc threw a hammer at a<fellow-
workm^". and swallowed a ser6w lie had,
in his ml nth. It'was an unfortunate affair, htt-i. *'} was better than throwing the
Berewa. . swallowing the hammer.
• "Yf? remarked a musical critic recently -s s'M Kansas, "the fiddlin' was
bully, t ,:'} I tell yon, when the fat chap
with & ? % mustafch© laid hold of that
bas$ £■? "i and went for them low notes
in ths - '• I:n-eellar, I just felt as if a buzz
-saw wr ' playin' 'Yankee Doodle' on my
back-!  "  v' *
- A 'J' " ' ghi wouldn't cross & river to
reach; •■ mlj minister who -could marry
he2 ay . ? lover, aud the minister on
oxi'hil , ihe brink of swollen stream
xeivrit • '.'"033 to them. . They there-
upor ' 5> heaids and they shouted the
Siffvir - *s the river to- one another-.
Thai' ":inCL oi "high-toned" w6d-
■*-'<■ i___-\     •' ■• \-w,.->.  .
"•£._ \:,-rri\-^<:^, utiii - ft esl» faWpj^su--iiv «.
farmer's woll to get a drink" of water.
The water v^as warm, and brackish, and
the wayfarer remarked to the farmer
that the weil was not a very good one.
"It's well enough -for me," replied the
granger, somewhat gruffly. "Then I
guess I. will let well enough alone here-
affer," was the traveler's rejoinder.
Mb. BEECnka says that one-half the
human family are eaters, not producers.
Speaking of immigration, he says' that
there-is no fear so long as our institutions
have the' assimilating power, and when
the lion eats the kid he does not turn
into kid, but the latter turns into lion.
When the children of immigrants get
through the public school they are all
Americans. The greatest needed revival
is, not of religion, of temperance, or of
, commerce, but of common schools.
These cotton mills near Augusta, Ga.,
have during the past four years, with a
capital of $1,600,000, paid their operatives in cash $1,560,000, and their stockholders §540,000 in dividends, besides
expending $5,673,000 forthe purchase of
cotton and other material for manufacturing purposes. Such substantial figures
as these ought to attract not clnly, capital
but intelligent laborers from points
where work is scarce.	
Pete's icicles.
Pete was a Kansas immigrant from the
South, in which climate he had neve^
seen weather sufficiently cold to form an
icicle. The farmer he hired out to gave
Pete instructions one day to go to the
wood-shed and tell Jake, a Northern
" nig," to remove the icicles from the
barn. The word icicles staggered Pete.
However, he kept muttering the sentence, " Be eye syoles in debarn," until,
when he reached the woodshed, the sentence wasiso inextricably mixed that he
stood for a few moments looking atifake,
expecting he might anticipate the message and relieve the old man of his difficulty. Finding no relief in Jake's stare
of inquiry he launched out with, "Look
a hyar, yon Jake, de mass'r tole me to
tole you, dat you wor to—to—ar—to remove de barnacles hide ice ; you hyar ?"
Jake^dropped his*ax, and, scratching his
woolly pate, queried, " De whaticles in
.de whar ?" " Didn't I tole yer as plain
as your underlip, de bicycles from the
yarn?" "Yousaid nutnn o' de kine;
you said de 'obstacles in de iqe house. "
" I tell you, nigger, wot .1 tole you was
de 'housieals from de barnacles.'"
"Look a hyar, you Southern galoot, you
is a whimsical and nonsensical fool, an'
you is gittin' too quizzical to suit dis
chile. I know wotyou's a diivin' at; de
mass'r tole you to tole me to chop de
wood darned quick, an' dat's wot I'm a
doin' an' don't you forget it." "Well,
Jake, I knew it" wor somefin like dat, but
bressmy soul if I could jist git de exac''
- vocabulary."
Eewarfi for Lost Property.
One P. lost a diamond pin and published in a city paper the following notice : "Loat, $25 reward—A diamond
pin. The finder will be paid the above
reward by leaviug. the same at this
office." The pin was found by C, who
.demanded the reward, which was refused. P. then demanded the return of
the pin, and, on being refused, brought
action in replevin for recovery. Mf Id
that the .finder, according to the com
mon law, becomes the proprietor in oas^r
the true owner does not appear, aud
meantime his right as findpr is apesfect
right against. all others. Andjhe1 is entitled to recompense from the owner for
his care and expense in its keeping and
preservation; but his status as finder
only does not give him a lien. Y*etj ^
sueh owner offers a reward to him who
will restore the property, a lien thereon
is thereby created to the extent of the
reward so offerecL—Wood vs. Pierson,
Supreme Court, Nebraska.
If we consider the regions in which
cyclones appear, the paths they follow,
and the direction in which the^r whirl,
we shall be able to form an opinion as
to-their origin. In the open -Pacific
ocean (as 'its name, indeed, implies)
storms are uncommon; they are infrequent also in the South Atlantic and
South Indian oceans." Around, Cape
Horn and the Cape of Good Hope heavy
storms prevail, but they are not cyclonic,
nor are they equal in fury and frequency, Maury tells us, to tne true tornado.
Along the equator, and for several degrees on either side ol it, cyclones are
also unknown. If we turn to a map iu
which ocean currents are laid down, we
shall see that in evesy "cyclone region''
there is a strongly-marked current, and
that each current follows closely the
track which we have denominated the
storm- ei« -^ ^ -E^rth Atlantic w*e
have the great Gulf Stream;4 whieh
sweeps from equatorial xegions into the
Gulf of Mexico, and thence across the
Atlantic to the shores of Western Europe.
In the South Indian ocean there is the
' 'south equatorial current" which sweeps
past Mauritius and Bourbon, and thence
i-eturns toward the- east. In the Chinese
sea there is "the north equatorial current^,
which sweeps round tiie Bast Indian
archipelago, and" then merges into the-
Japanese current. There is also the
current in the Bay of Bengal, flowing
through the region in which, as we have
seen, cyclones are commonly m"et:with.
There are other sea-cuirents*beside these
which yet breed no cyclones. But we
may notice two peculiarities in tlie currents we have named. Th6y aU -flow
from equatorial to tempe^rafe regions,
and .secondly, they are all s<hofseshoe
purrents." * •   '    ■ ."
Now, ii we inquire why an.ocean current traveling from .the .equator should
be a " storm breeder," we shall find a
ready answer.   Such «, current, carrying
| the warmth of intei%opieal -segions to
fijst place,, uy'tiifcf .sut^o* vu^-c^wc/*.^*
temperature, important atmospheric disturbances.
But the warmth of the stream itself is
not the only cause of atmospheric disturbance. Over the warm water vapor
is continually rising ; snd, as it lises, is
continually condensed (like the steam
feom a locomotive) by the colder air
round. "An observer on the moon,"
says Capt. Maury, "would, on a winter's
day, be able to brace out by the mist in ■
the air the path of the Gulf Stream
through the sea." But what must hap:
pen when vapor is condensed? We
know that to turn water into vapor is a
process requiring—that is, using up—a
large amount of heat; and, conversely,
the return of vapor to the'state of water
sets free an equivalent quantity of heat.
The amount of heat thus set free from
the Gulf Stream is thousands of times
greater than that which would be generated by the whole-coal supply annually
raised in Great Britain, flere, then, we
have an efficient cause for the wildest
hurricanes. For along the whole of the
Gulf Stream, from Bemini.to the Grand
Banks, there is' a channel of heated^
that is, rarefied air. Into this channel
the denser atmosphere On both .sides is
continually pouring, with greater or less
strength,. .When a storm begins in tiie
Atlantic, it always makes for this channel, "and, reaching it, turns andfollows
it hr its course, sometimes, entirely
across the Atlantic."
By a like reasoning we can account
for the cyclonic stoims prevailing in the
North Pacific ocean. Nor do the tornadoes whieh rage in parts of the United
States present any serious difficulty.
The' region along which these storms
travel is the valley of the great Mississippi. This river at certain seasons is
considerably warmer than the surrounding lands From its surface, also, aqueous vapor is continually being raised.
When the surrounding air is colder, this
vapor is presently condensed, generating
in the change. a vast amount of heat.
We have thus a channel of rarefied air
over the Mississippi valley, and this
channel becomes a. storm traek, like the
corresponding channels over the warm
ocean currents.—Prof. JR. A. Proetor,
Two Women' Wedded
The Boston Herald prints the following strange story from a correspondent
at Bover, N. H.., and it is given for
what it is worth. The writer vouches
for its truthfulness; Ten years ago two
persons were united in marriage by a
Congregational clergyman of this State.
The ceremony was performed in a small
town not many miles frqm this city.
They lived together as husband and wife
for more than nine years, liaving resided
in several- different places, a part of the
time in this place. A few months ago
the wife petitioned for a divorce on tha
ground that her husband was a woman.
On examination it was found to be as she
had said. That she dressed m female
apparel when she first became acquainted
with her, but told her she was a man.
It was proved that «hc was the divorced
wife of a merchant^of New York, and
had one child.
NOMBER'U.
wwm. as® nsraso
^Shex that gov@Eumost shq&s fe©ls^23-
-noise.
Bid you ©ver hear © bsd $$$^&?£S.O o
needlepoint?    . .;' *-> - ..
Tbxjth is sample, requiimg-. i^£5Sk.^?
study nor art. .—"" . '".
. Have not the cloak'- to make wltesi IS
begins to rain.
".BiiEss tiieir dear little soles/3 sqjp
the ladies' shoemaker.
A Washington correspondent says IS
is eight years since a Senator was se®ffi.
in his seat intoxicated.
No 'gonvbnts, either for men m t/om®%
are to be found in Norway or Bw^dea,.
They are absolutely forbidden hf Ska-
laws,
. "Mamma, the teacher says alipeoft®--
are made of dust," "Yes, niy desr, es»
they are." "-Well, then,. I s*pOs® ass--
groes are made of coal dust."
" What is your wife's particular litfi®-.,--
game ? " asked a friend of a henpsekd&s
husband.    " When she gets thosougi""
mad,'.' he answered, . " ifs draw- p©k«£,:
BooSobs say that in large cities fe&
night air-is heal&iest. The appea^safcs®
of the fashionable young man ol th© fta-
riod does uq.tHgq.tea .bolster up tMs &h&-
orv.        "v. "'■■..        ,. -
" The igail'who thinks it foolish t«j m>
ward lug 'yrii/sfe d^v^tibu^vsith Mnd^csfe
and caresses i&i|he same one who waders' why it is thai women sometimes gp>
wrong.. •„'.    .--i i. •"-:
■   An exchange, says if s a. very bad &m^
to  get rich  too  rapidly,   .fe'is?®'
thought of that before.   Here's anothair
danger to worry about and stride &&»■
guard against.
Thebe are now more than 1,308 vosa-
en in the departments at- WasMngf-o&j,
the majority employed in the bureau ©•?
engraving and printing, and ia tha $M&-
ernment printing office.
Thb "Peats' Comer"of the MhhM
Public Library at Glasgow contains afe
present the works- of 1,2|22. Scottish
poets and Terse writers, of whom l^iSS
are'named, aad the rest 'anonymous*
"Let Jl©   Bream   Those   Jkasffiask
Again" is "the title of a new song Iter
Will Hayes.   AH. right, Willie.   fe& -
state what Mnd .of pie you taclded lbs-
fore dreaming them th© last tlsae, ffi&sk
we % ill fix iti ior you.
A>hc«o©baphek acted es E&siste©2
ceremonies at a Mend's funeral,. &&e!a cs-
he lifted the boffin-lid for the ssotsdK
"it?   f & \^ih il^'tllO "y^-^/A^^- ~rrrfZ-
.,-*!  j... t-i~
If all hearts were frank, just, and honest, the major part of th© virtues would
be useless to us,—JSioliers.
habit.—BrpoMym, KAiilotvjktyj^*.
"'Twm? the Gloaming and ih®
Bark "is the title of the latest nmet
issued in New York. A Chicago yoiKsg*-
man is thinking- of getting out one ©Entitled "'Twixt the Old Man anS tfc&
Bark." He called when her father wsa'
at home and the dog untied.
A oouhtbtman from New HampsMi%
who had never heard of a bicycle, Cisraa
to Boston, and, when he beheld a youtfe
whirling along upon one of those ahr^'
vehicles, he broke out into soliloquy
thus : *' Golly; ain't that queer. Who'd!
ever 'spect to se£ $ man richV a'.
skirt."—American Queen.
A London scientific journal says
cucumber is known to have been osalSa*
vated for more than 3,000 years; thafc ife
was extensively grown in ancient Egypfe*
Perhaps it was the cucumber, and m©fe
the asp, that Cleopatra took to hns?
bosom, with fatal results. Wo always
did doubt that snake, story.
The 8-year-old daughter of a family
who has the decorative* craze the. wors&
way was discovered with "the big albums,
daubing the faces of the photbgraplss m
her parents, brothers and -sisters toS& .
water colors. When the littl© mtteoemfc
was scolded, she replied tjhat &he •aas-
" only decorating family ns^gs/''      •
In-the United States fish culture dates
back barely a quarter of a century, whil©
in Europe the industry has been systematic for more than 600 yearsj and m,
Asia for thousands of years; and yet "fess-
United States, at the International Wish
Exhibition at Berlin, Germany, eseelleS
all other countries in their exhibit of ssjp-
pliances and methods pertaining to feSa
culture. .    ■«
It is said that there ia as much diSeffi'-
ence between a cultivated oyster and om©
taken from its natural bed as ther© is
between bur best Bartlett and thecoma
mon pear. The cultivation of the moi-
lusks also greatly increases the supply
as the oyster raiser watches his beds ami,
keeps them free from the depredations
of the starfish,. the drills and the pes&-
'wirM&-—^esspiesbf.tii© oyster. «
-" "A-New 'H&pshike farmer agreed fes? •
sell -his farm fof $2,00$' but wheu feo
day eame he' told thei expectant piai^ ,
chaser that his wile "was in hysteria "'
about th©- trade, and- he "guessed h&'& '
have to back out."' Th©purchases' 'mm.~~
plained, and finally; asked how much-
more would induce him tp sell. "Wellj,59'
replied the thrifty'son of th© Qx&mlo
State, " giv© me $250 more, aad WE lofr
her wj*" -
The Musty Old Burloffo
" Th© New. York Earning Post Ssas e©=
vived tbe plea for the abolitiouof tte
old-fashioned parlor andniany Eastern
papers are putting forth thete energise
in the same way." The topic is an x$m
one, and the parlor against which Sbis-
attack is made searceSy exists now exce^
in the back "deestrecks" of the counfey„
If any one has a parlor that's too goeSk
for a Hving-roomhe is.simply behind fe*
—I/ihcoln (NebSJoiirrnxd.
' Those who believe the--world mi@®
them a livinig don't stop to consider 2s®??
manv: bad debts th$ oM glob©, has to
shoulder. . -
-«~;