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THE COLUMBIAN.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY
AT
ST. HELENS, COLUMBIA CO., OR.,
BT
E. G. ADAMS, Editor, and Proprietor.
? i
THE COLUMBIAN.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY
AT
8T. HELEN'S, COLUMBIA CO., OR.,
BY
A
E. G. ADAMS, Editor and Proprietor.
Subscription Rates:
j ...
Advebtisisq Rates:
Ob year. Iii advance
Six month. -Three
months, ' .....
2 CO
MM j
50
VOL. III.
ST, HELENS, COLUMBIA COUNTY, OREGON: MAY .25, , 1883.
NO. 42.
One iquara (10 line) first Insertion 12 00
t-ca kutscquent insertion... w
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GKASfcUAMMA'd STORY.
BT LILLE K. BARK.
I.
Children, here are f be flowers again I
tfaoy a lime I bare en tb nprlng,
M iny c time I have seen the flowers
Come with be swallow's glancing wing.
Bring; me tbe golden croctsee.
Brirg me the purp'e. gold and white,
Br'.ng me tbe pale, sweet violets.
And tbe snowdrops, bells of ligUt.
II.
Shall I tell you a story, children,
Of a dy like thl Ion? ao
W ben I gathered the golden crocu.
And tbe belia that are pure as mow?
There bad been a tempest at m'duigat.
Bat at dawn it bad all p'd hy;
Oh bow beutltul wa the earth'
And bow beautiful was the akj !
HI.
My father bad lilted bis anchor.
A"rt fctkTt his brown sail free;
For I to a fisherman's daughter,
And lived oy the tcwln ea.
I watched him out of tbe harbor.
Then Fped to a gard n I knew.
'And gathered the sweet white nowdrtps.
And the crocuses gold and blue.
IV.
But when I came back at noou'lde
My father was watching for mt ;
He bad found two perishing mortals
Drifting far out on the sea.
And they lsy lu o-ir little cottage.
Half froseu. and tired with tbe fiebt
Tbey bad bad with tbe winds and waves.
In tbe stress of tbe stormy night.
One w a the owner of Mornlrgstow,
And tbe other bis only child.
Mv father an'i hi r.lasp'd bapiy hands
when the little lad spoke and smiled.
My father and bis grew firm, trun friends.
And tbe boy and mvself were free
In wander about the brown sea sands.
Or sail lu our boat ou the sea.
VI.
One day mong tbe gold and white crecus.
Tbe throstles low singin? above,
H sang me the song-of the age?.
He told me the story of Love.
I romember the clear shining air,
I remember the look in bis eyes,
Tbe Joy of the blossoming earth, i
Tbe sunshiny blue of tbe skies.
VII.
00 Into the gallery, children.
On tbe right a picture ban?s low,
A soldier and fisher-maiden.
In the meadows of Morningstow.
The soldier is telling a story
The maid in her rrocu"es peers.
Well. I was that fi'her maiden,
Tbe soldier your grandfather, dears.
VIII.
Children, tls s'xty -two years ago:
I know I am feeble anl old.
But whenever the spring cornea back again.
With Its Mofsoma of white and eold.
1 know that my soul keeps Youth and
Trnth
That kome beautiful day will t-ring
Tbe wondron chaoge thst shall give to me
The land of Eternal Spring.
JASON'S WIDOW.
"Yea," said Mrs. Clickson, nodding
her head, "Clara has married rich at
last, it Beems."
"It can't be possible," said Miss Mau
randia Clickson, who was long, thin and
forty. A snub-nosed, insignificant
thing like that! What is there about
Clara to attract any man?"
"It is true, though," said Mrs. Click
son. "Benjamin Barton's folks have
been visitiog in Philadelphia, and they
saw her out riding with her new hus
band, with horses' harness half covered
with gold plate, and purple satin cush
ions to the kerridge. And Miss Barton
is pretty sure she saw diamonds in her
ears."
"Mrs. Montague Merrion'" breath
lessly burst in Miss Lorina Clickson.
"That's the name. And a brown stone
house and a man in black, with a silver
salver, to take the visitors' cards.
Mrs. Bess Barton saw it with her own
eyes!"
The Clickson family looked at one
another with speculative eyes. Tbey
were a hard-featured, high cheek-bened
race, with opaque black eyes, thick lips
like threads of damaged vermillion, faces
all traversed with wrinkles, and noses
sharpened to a mere point.
There was old Mrs. Clickson, who lived
in the farm-house and laid down the law
to all the neighborhood like a female
pope; Mr. Clickson, who didn't count at
. . . . . -. , it? r-
ail wnen nis wne was uy; xvtiss Aiau
randia, who taught the district school,
and Miss Lorina, who trimmed bonnets;
and Mr. and Mrs. Philo, a stotit, silent
pair, who said very little and kept up a
sharp eye for tbe main chance.
Everybody had said when Mrs. Philo
Clickson first came there that she would
not stay. It was boldly asserted that no
one could exist under the Upas shadow
of a mother-in-law cut after old Mrs.
Clickson's pattern. But Mrs. Philo had
maintained her position by dint of a
pacbydermous stolidity, and had won
the old lady's respect by economizing
candle ends, looking after stray crumbs
of bread and counting pennies with even
more parsimony than ,she herself was
able to display. As sne never said any
thing, she could not well offend Mrs.
Eben Clickson, and so all went well.
But when Jason Clickson's wife came
to the old farm-house, with a letter from
the young husband, who had taken to
the sea and . died in some far-away
Italian port a letter written on his
death-bed, to commend tl-e poor little
English wife to the tender merci.s of
the Clickson family all was different.
"Married without my sanction!" said
Mrs. Eben Clickson, severely.
"Married, and never asked our ad
vice!" choi used Miss Lorina and Miss
Maurandia.
Mr. and Mrs. Philo said nothing. They
only looked at one another, but their
looks plainly said: "We won't give up
the west wing of tbe house except with
our lives."
Clara Clickson was a little, pale, large
eyed woman, with a startled look, like a
deer, and a round, cherry mouth, which
quivered piteousiy when any one spoke
harshly to her.
She knew nothing about housework;
never had been taught to make soft-soap;
could not engineer a family wash; pre
ferred her book to her needle.
Shrf cried a great deal when she was
by herself, which old Mrs. Clickson in
terpreted into a lack of resignation to the
will of heaven. She brought home wild
flowers to "litter up" tbe place, and the
was once caught giving half a slice of
bread and butter to the little girl who
played the tambourine to a hand-organ
man's aocompaniment at the back door.
The Clickson family, in full
parliamentary conclave, agreed that this
would never do. Mrs. Eben told Clara,
with characteristic delicacy, that they
oonld not maintain ber in idleness and
perhaps she had better look out for
something to do.
Miss Lorina recommended advertising
in a city paper for a decent situation; I
Miss Maurandia gave" her a kindly re
sume of all her faults and failings, and
admonished her to correct them before
she expected people to tolerate her; and
Mr. and Mrs. Philo sat and stared at her
with hard, dull, gleaming eyes, as if
they enjoyed every syllable af this" figur
ative castigation. - f j
Clara ventured on no reply. She only
sat, pale and silent, with downcast eye's
and trembling lips. I
But the next day she left the Clickson
farm-house, and the family troubled
themselves no more about her until they
heard that Jason's widow had met with
success. She had painted some pictures
which commanded a ready market, and
one of the rich gentlemen who bought
the landscape had fallen in love with her
and married her.
And then the Clickson family decided
with one accord that they had always set
a deal of s'ore in Clara, and now it was
clearly their duty to go and see her.
"And if I like the situation." said old
Mrs. Clickson, "I shouldn't wonder if I
stayed all winter. My. rheumatics are
always better for a change of air."
Miss Lorina thought of the ideas in
bonnet-making and cap trimming that
she could gain by daily promenades on
Chestnut street. Maurandia concluded
that she would abandon a quarter's sal
ary of the district school and devote her
self to city society. Who knew but that
there might be a Mr. Montague Merrion
somewhere in store for her?
Mr. and Mrs. Philo, j as usual, said
nothing, but packed their hand-bag.
The had long wanted a! "store carpet"
and a set of blae-china, and now was the
opportunity. Jason's widow could not ;
charge tham board, and they could stay i
as long as they pleased without inonrring
any extra expenses. !
But the Clickson family would have
been surprised, and not altogether
pleased, could they have seen the ex
pression of Mrs. Montague Merrion 's
face when she receive I thir joint and
compound letter at the breakfast teble.
A breakfast table as different from the
fried pork and heavy bread abominations
of the Clickson house as possible. White
Frenoh rolls piled in a silver basket;
birds broiled on toast, and eggs wrapped
in damask napkins; while a superb ama
ryllis, in full bloom, gave the element of
color, and Mr. Merrion, in a picturesque
morning wrapper of cherry silk, read the
newspaper, while Clara looked over her
letters. i
And no one would have recognized
Jason Clickson's pale little widow in this
bright, blooming girl, for there is no
beautifier like happiness.!
"Oh, Montague !" she cried, dropping
her letter, "what am I to-do?"
"What is the matter, sweetheart ?" in
quired Mr. Merrion, calmly folding over
his newspaper. ! ,
"The whole Clickson family 1" cried
Clara. "All coming to spend an indefi
nite period of time with us !
"Ah I" said Mr. Merrion. "Your first
husband's relatives. Have you invited
them?" !
"Oh, no, no !" cried Clara. "Invited
them when they were so hard, and cruel,
and inhospitable to me in my hour of
need, and all but turned me out of doors
at last?"' j
"Then,-" said Mr. Merrion, "we must
treat theui as we would treat any other
impertinent intruders. My little Clara
shall not be tormented by a set of har
pies. Just give me the letter, love; I'll
settle this business. Oh, by the way, I
have to run out to Chestnut Hill this
morning to see about the j new conserva
tories there; bat I'll send Phipps, my
lawyer, to the depot to meet them. He'll
make it all right." i
"Bnt, Montague," faltered Clara,
"what shall I do if they descend upon
me like the locusts of Egypt, and you
not here ?"
"They won't come, my dear," said
Mr. Merrion, shrewdly.
Nevertheless Clara was very nervous
all day, and could not settle peacefully
to work in the exquisite little glass
ceired studio, with the Venetian-red
walls and ruby-velvet draperies, which
her husband's affection had provided for
her, for the recollection of Mrs. Click
sou's cold, hard face overshadowed her
like a nightmare.
The two maiden daughter's sour re
gards were still fresh in her memory, and
she could not think of the stolid stupid
ity of Mr. and Mrs. Philo without a
shudder.
The Clickson family arrived at the de
pot hot. dusty, crumpled, like all trav
elers. Miss Lorina's hat was crushed.
Miss Maurandia's complexion was all
washed away with perspiration, Mrs.
Philo had the toothache, and Philo had
mislaid the key of his bag.'
The old lady was cross and dictatorial,
much inclined to find 'fault with the
management of the road, and old Mr.
Clickson sat all in a heap in the corner,
about as amiable as an elderly hyena.
Into this cheerful family party Mr.
Phipps bowed himself a courteous,
middle-aged gentleman, with, a perpetual
smile and a coaxing way ! of speaking,
which bespoke your confidence before
you knew it. j
"Do I address Mrs. Ebon. Clickson?"
said he suavely.
"You do," said the old lady, trying to
straighten out her bent spectacles, upon
which Mrs. Philo had sat all the way
from Yellow Brook depot, j
"I represent Mrs. Merrion," said he.
"You have no doubt heard of the sick
ness in the family, and have eome to help
nurse Mr. Merrion's daughter?"
"Eh?" said Mrs. Eben Clickson, hold
ing the specteoles by one joint. "He was
a widower, eh, with 4 family? Well, then,
Clara hain't done so surprisingly weli,
arter all. But what's the matter with
the young gals? I pity 'em if Jason's
widow is to be their stepmother."
"The doctor hopes," said Mr. Phipps,
"that it will not be anything more seri
ous than scarlet fever. The indications,
at present, are " !
"Scirlet fever!" screamed Mrs. Philo.
"Husband, let's go back! We've neither
of us never had it!" j
"Is it malignant?'' gasped Miss
Lorina. I ,
"Why didn't Jason's widow telegraph
to us?" shrieked Miss Maurandia.
"She has had a great deal to occupy
her mind," said Mr. Phipps, smoothly.
"You perhaps haven't heard that her
husband has gone away and left her?"
"And took all the money?" gasped the
oia woman.
ww . :
"It is but too probable," said Mr.
Phipps.
"Left her?" repeated Miss Lorina.
"Humph! A grass-widow! Didn't I al
ways say that Clara Clickson wouldn't
come to no good?"
"She can't expect us to countenance
her," said Miss Maurandia, severely.
"Ladies," said Mr. Phipps, "will I
show you the way to Mr. Merrion's resi
dence?" "Certainly not," said Mrs. Eben Click
son. "It ain't my business to counte
nance any woman whose husband has
deserted her. Just let her know, please,
that her first husband's family are very
mncb put out and hope she won't ex
pect them to receive her again?"
"And I think," observed Miss Maur
andia, "that it is very cool of her to sup
pose that we will turn free nurses to her
second husband s family, wnen we re all
delicate ourselves !"
Miss Lorina made no further remark,
but gathered up her parcels and started
for the train, whither old Mr. Clickson
and Mr. and Mrs. Philo had already led
the. way; for, dearly as the Clickson
family cherished the prospect of a
month s sojourn in Philadelphia, hotel
exactions and boarding-honse bills were
out of the question.
Mr. .Phipps watched them until the
last basket and valise had disappeared
into the car door, and then returned to
tbe landau, just outside the station,
where Mrs. Montague Merrion sat.
"You heard it all?" said he.
"Every word," said Clara, whose face
was a combination of amusement and
annoyance. "But Mr. Phipps "
"It was quite true, wasn't it, about
your husband's daughters being ill of
scarlet fever? said the lawyer.
"But they are away at boarding
school."
"Was it necessary for me to mention
that?" said Mr. Phipps, demurely.
"And you said my husband had left
me."
"Hasn't ho?" questioned Mr. Phipps
"But he has only gone to Chestnut
Hill to see about the buildings, and he
comes back this evening," pleaded Clara
"They did not ask me where he was
gone, or when he would return," ob
served Mr. Phipps.
But tbe main object was achieved. Tbe
visitation of the Clickson family had
been warded off; and when Mr. Merrion
came home that evening from Chestnut
Hill, with the report that the girls were
getting on finely, and the conservatories
almost completed, Clara met him with a
radiant face.
"Mr. Phipps' diplomacy has won the
day," she said.
While the Clickson family, unloaded
their bags and trunks once more at the
farmhouse door, declared, gloomily that
"they always knew that Jason 'a widow
would turn out a failure."
Calling on the Governor.
Hon. J. M. D. Kelley, clerk, and Jim
Hewitt, sheriff of Carroll county, came
to Atlanta and determined to call on tbe
late Governor Stevens. The hall door of
the mansion was open, and the visitors,
noticing two men at the other end of the
hall, walked in. As they passed the
threshold they bowed and touched their
hats gracefully. The men at the lower
end of the hall did the same.
"They motioned for us to go in this
parlor," said Kelley.turning to the right
and walking in. After sitting there
awhile, Hewitt said:
"Are you sure that fellow told us to
come in here?"
"Yes," said Kelley, "but I'll go and
ask him again."
As Kelley walked out of the parlor he
saw a man walk out of a door on the same
side, at the other end of the hall.
"Did you say go in there?" Kelley
asked, beckoning back into the parlor.
Instantly the man at the other end of the
hall beckoned back to the parlor, and
Kelley re-entered it.
"He says right in here, Jim. I saw
him again."
Another long wait. At last b6th visit
ors got uneasy and determined to try it
again. As they walked out into the hall
two men entered it again from the same
side lower down. Hewitt and Kelley
again motioned toward the parlor.- Both
the strange men pointed toward the par
lor. They started back, when Kelley
stopped suddenly, gazed intently at the
two men, and then shook his bead. The
bald-beaded man down the hall did the
same thing
"Look here, Jim," said he, "I'll be
swamped if we ain't been talking to our
selves all the time. That end of the
house is a looking-glass." Courier-Journal.
"5!
Long Engagements.
"Marry in haste and repent at leisure."
This, we know, is an adage as old as the
hills, and doubtless a great many un
fortunates have married in haste and re
pented. Bnt even hasty marriages, with
the prospect of near repentance, are not
to be compared by way of evil results
with long engagements. Yovng women,
beware of the man who seeks to bind
you to long engagements! No matter
what his pretext may be, his motive is
almost always a selfish one. He either
don't like to work to support a family, or
is so fond of his bachelor indulgences to
be unwilling to renounoe them for the
purer and calmer joys of married life.
Or he is only seeking to win your
affections by the fraud of a promise
which he never expects to make good.
We are single, yet had we daughters of
our own we would have them shun, as a
leper, the man who believes in long en
gagements. The daintiest and most convenient of
i spring trifles are the new "manchons" or
muffs, matching tbe costume and
trimmed with velvet, lce, flowers, or,
prettiest of all, with small birds. A little
concealed pocket in the muff affords a
hiding place for card-case, handkerchief,
purse, or vinaigrette. Tbe latest fancy
is to attach these manchons to a tiny gold
or silver chatelaine, which is fastened by
a clasp to the belt.
"Baby has told you a fib." "Oh how
naughty it is to tell a lie." said the
mother. "God will be much troubled."
The ehild, after some reflection "I
won't tell him, mamma; I won't say my
prayers to night."
Negroes' Names in Tennessee.
Before the war the negroes uniformly
went oy the names oz their masters as
Mr. Jones' Bill, Mr. Smith's Jupiter.
After emancipation each one was left to
his own choice of names, as the roll of
honor of "Paradise Hall" will fully ex
emplify. In a majority of instances they
adopted the names of their masters, and
as they more frequently than otherwise
named their children, male and female,
after their masters and mistresses, the
strange anomaly is often presented by
our police reports oi some of the owners
of the most honored names in the ooun
try being before the recorder as drunk
and disorderly, and were it not that the
"cabalistic word "colored" is generally
affixed, the confusion natural in such in
stances might lead to grave errors. But
tbe custom of taking the master's name
is not always adopted by them, as the
following incident, which occurred to
the writer, will abundantly illustrate:
We were passing along the street the
other day, when we encountered "Dad
dy Moses," the husband of our "black
mammie" or foster mother. We knew it
would tickle him, so with a profound
dow we saluted turn with:
"Good morning, Mr. Nichols; I hope
I find you well this morning.
"Sarvent, Marse Eddard; I'm po'ly,
thank the Lord. I bin and tuk a bad
cole, and I'se had such a misery in my
back for de las' week and bin so pow'ful
weak det 1 could skasely cut a stick o
wood, bat I'se better to-day, thank de
Lord. How is ole Miss vour mar and
de chillen?"
"They are all in usual health, I thank
you, Mr. Nichols. And how is mammie
and all with you?"
"Yo' mammie is up and about, Marse
Eddard, but, Marse Eddard, yon mis
took my name, you is. My name is not
Nichols for dis present."
"Why, how is dat, Daddie Mose? Have
you applied to the legislature and had
your name ohanged?
"I dunno nuffiu' 'bout no legislatur',
Yo' mammie, she is de cause ob de
change."
"Why, how is that? '
"Why, Marse Eddard, you know when
1 was a piccamny I lived in ole Virgin'
ny, and first belonged to Marse Ban
dolph; not to old Maree Jack, whatlived
in llonoke, but to Marse Peyton Ban'
dolph, when dey lived in Bottelot. Well.
when I was young I was a mons'ous good
rider, and so Marse John Nichols he
hired me to rub and ride his racehosses.
When I had bin wid him for 'bout two
years he axed me ef I was willing for him
to buy me, and I tole him ves. So he
bought me from Marse Pevton and I
come with Mr. Nichols to Tennessee.
When I asked your gran'sir for you'se
mammie, he 'lowed he was willing ef she
was. So he called her in and axed her
ef she had any 'jection to marryin' "e.
Well, your mammie she up and tole ole
Marse she did dat. She didn't have no
pointed 'jection to me myself, but she
did 'ject to nie on 'count of my white
folks, bhe lowed dat dey was pore
white trash, and she didn t want to mar
ry into no sich a family. Well, ole
marse (yore gran'sir) he laughed, he
did, and he tolo your mammie dat if dat
was all she had agin me he thought he
could nx dat by buyin me hisself. And
shore 'naff he did buy me, and I thought
de matter was settled den for eber. But
bress yore soul, Marse Eddard. it wasn't
settled, for dat ooman (vore mammie)
nas Din uingin my wuite lolks in my
face eber sence; and every time I say
anything she don't like she ups and says
sue conldn t spect nuflin better from
de way I was raised.' Well, to stop dat
tongue er hern, I jest 'eluded to change
my name to Kandolph, and I se now Mr.
Moses Randolph."
"Well, how does mammie like her new
name of Kandolph?" I asked.
"Why, bress yore soul, Marse Eldard,
she ain't got no new name; she sticks to
the same ole Miss Martha Grundy."
"Well, how about your children, Bob
and Arthur?"
"Well, de last time I hearn from Bob
he was in Arkansaw. He writ a letter to
his mammie and tolled her to 'rect her
letter to Mr. Robert Rector, and he
'lowed dat dere was an ole Gnbbenor
Rector dat lived in dem parts what was
mons'ous 'ristocrat. So he tuk de name
of Rector. We ain't hearn from Artur
in a long time. De . last we hear from
him he was runnin' de ribber on a boat
as cook, and he called hissel den Artur
White,- after de captain's name."
"So you, your wife and your boys. go
by different names, do you?"
"Dafs so, Marse Eddard."
The above is by no means an isolated
oase. Detroit Free Press.
His Honor and itijali.
"My name is Bijah," began a little
short man as he bustled out ahead of Bi
jah, "and I used to know your father in
York state."
"My father did not live in York state
quietly replied the court.
"I mean Vermont."
"He did not live in Vermont."
"I mean Connecticut."
"Mr. Coon," solemnly replied tbe
court, "you are here on a very serious
charge, and what happened in New Eng
land forty years ago won't help your case
any "this morning. Just keep your
thoughts fastened on the present.
"What have I got to do w th the pres
ent My name is Uoou, and 1 m on my
way from New Hampshire to join the
Mormons."
"You stopped over one day to see De
troit?"
"Yes, sir."
"You lost $50 in a gambling room?"
"Yes, they skum me out of about fifty
the wretches! Judge, let me raise my
voice right here, and now, and warn
everybody in the room against playing
poker in a strange town."
"After playing poker, you got drunk
and had a fight with a lame man."
"Did I? The last I remember was try
ing to pass a quarter of a dollar with a
hole in it on a man who had popcorn to
sell. So, I got drunk, eh? So, I had a
fight, eh? So, I licked a lame man, eh?
Well, now, I wouldn't have believed it!"
"You look like a hard case."
"Me? Why, judge, you never were
more mistaken in your born days! I've
alius been known as a peaceful, kind
hearted man, and none of my neighbors
will believe that I would dare fight a
baby. I guess you think I'm some other
coon,
"Well, I shall fine1 you $5.'
"Mercy on me! Why; I lost $50 to
start with, and have
abont used up this
suit of clothes. I won't have a dollar to
marry on when I reach Salt Lake if this
sort of luck continues. Say, judge, call
it a great moral lessq
n and let it go at
that. If you will. I
111 give you my pho-
tograph."
The court positively
refused to be
bribed or corrupted,
and tbe man bound
for Salt Lake had to hand over. Detroit
Free Press.
HOUSEHOLD HINTS.
The filling for a layer cake oan be
made as for lemonjjelly cake, only use
an orange in place ofl the lemon; cook it
just as long and exactly as you would if
made of lemon, 1
For macaroni, with cheese, or for
Welsh rarebit, chees j which is too dry
for the table may be used ; when it is
grated and melted, ifl it seems at all stiff.
add a very little cream to moisten it.
Medium-sized onions cut in quarters
make a good addition to a Blender stock
of cucumber pickles; pour the vinegar
off the pickles, heat it, and after mixing
the onions and cucumber?, turn the hot
vinegar over them. j
A new ana very effective way to trim a
table scarf with plush, is to use a square
of plush instead of a band, as a decora
tion on the end oi tne scarf. This may
serve as a background for a spray of
flowers in ribbon embroidery.
After the dust has been thoroughly
beaten out of carpets and they are tacked
down again they can be brightened very
much by scattering corn meal with coarse
salt over them, and then sweeping it all
off. Mix the salt and meal in equal pro
portions.
Curtains are draped much higher than
they used to be. It Is no longer consid
ered essential that they shall meet low
down, but it is good form to tie them
back so that one may look out of the
window, or so that a small table may be
placed close to the window.
Rice served with meat is rendered
appetizing by seasoning it highlv. After
tbe rice is boiled until it is tender, and
with the kernels whole, put it in a sauce
pan with a lump of butter, stir it gently,
and add a little chicken broth or beef
gravy, a pepper and salt, and a trace of
curry powder.
Linen lunch cloth one yard square.
with a vine and some odd and mirth-
provoking design in the corners, are the
fancy of the hour. Thlese are very pretty
to cover the small tab
es used
at
lunch
or small tea partiesJ
Have
as
much
variety in coloring and in the design as
possible and yet be in
harmony.
The latest known
use ' to which the
put is to make a
seine twine can be
baby's carriage robe of
it. Crochet it as
if for a tidy; it should
be lined, even if
ribbons are run through the open spaces.
For early spring use a iiinnel lining
should be put in; and
later a lighter one
of silcsia or cashmere is
used.
An excellent authority in medicine
recommends a little common sugar as a
remedy for a dry, hacking I cough, and
gives scientific reasons for it. If troubled
atr night or on first waking in tbe morn
ing, have a little cup ch a stand close by
the bed, and take half a teaspoonful;
this will be of benefit when cough syrups
fail. I
The true economist, when eggj are
dear, will never throw gway tbe shells
when she makes cake; they; will be of
use in settling the coffej; moreor less of
the white is always left in the shell, and
it may be used to good advantage. Look
at the eggs before breaking them, and if
the shells are not clean J wash them.
A good way to use up bits of cold tur
key or chicken is to ci t tbem in pieces,
of uniform size if possible, make a batter
of milk and flour and an egg, sprinkle
pepper and salt over thi cold fowl, and
mix with the batter; fry as you do any
kind of fritters in hot It rd ; j drain well;
serve hot. This is a I good breakfast
dish. i
carriage of felt
are both comfortable and pretty. A
blue one, with a long and branching
spray of buttercups and ! daisies em
broidered on it. and with the stems tied
in realistic style with a bow; of satin rib
bon, will delight the eyes of the mother
and baby also. Flannel I may be used
with good effect in place of felt.
Went Back t Alabama
to Plunk Old
Brown
One Sunday afternoon
at a hotel in
Atlanta, we were talking about ho.w great
disappointments sometimes soured a
man, when a chap who had been chewing
tobacco all by himself over by the win
dow turned around and said:
"Gentlemen, you've hit it plumb cen
ter! Up to four years ago I was a man
who alius wore a grin on his face, and
I'd divide my last chaw with a stranger.
Folks now call me mean and ugly and I
kin hardly get a man to drink with me."
"Then you have su tiered a great dis
appointment?" I quriedj. j
"I have, stranger l pave. ien years
ago a man in tins very town cieanea me
out ou an execution, and chuckled when
I took the dirt road for Tennessee. I or-
ter have shot him, but somehow I didn t,
and arter I got to Tennessee' things be
gan preying on my mind. Day and
night I could hear a voice saying: 'Go
back and plunk old Brown,' and I lost
flesh and come powerful near going into
a decline." !
"Yes?" I
"Well, that voice kept talking and I
kept waiting, but in abut three years I
shouldered my rine ana turnea my steps
this way, my mind fully made up to
shoot old Brown on sight. He had a
patoh o land out west o' here and used
to ride out every day. I made for that
spot, calkerlating to bif ; him as he drove
up to the gate. No bod, r had seen me,
and nobody would k now 'who did tbe
shooting."
"Yes?" some one said as he made a
longpanse. I j
'Well. I got fixed and waited, and 1
was feeling real good f6r the first time
in three years, when I heard a boof and
looked out for the old man. It wasn't
him. Tr ae as vou sot there, the old skin
flint had gone and died only' week be-
fore, giving me a tramp of 200 miles to
say 'hody' to his execnlar! ' Gentlemen,
I can t describe my feeling! Just think
of one white man playing such a trick on
another! It was wuss thau Arkansaw
swamp mud warmed over for' next sea'
son. I was took with shakes and chills
and a cough, and here I am, sour, cross,
mulish, ugly and realizing that I don't
stand no more show to go to heaven
when I die than that thar dog does of
swallowing a postofBce without any pre
liminary chawin'!"
The Artist Who Left a $5 Bill Behind.
"What do you think that is?" asked
Special Oflioer Taggart of the Pennsyl
vania railroad company
xue son do raised tus eyes and saw
what appeared to be a 85 bill pasted on
a b!ackboord, and hung over the door.
"Is there a story connected with it?
queried the reporter in turn.
"Yes; btft guess what it is."
The reporter supposed it to be "the
best counterfeit ever made." or "the
marked bill that gave the thief away,"
or "the bill found on the person of the
murderer." He gazed at it with an un
holy interest. "Did any newspaper man
ever see nt he finally remarked care
lessly. "Not one. The fact is it isn't what
you think it i3 isn't a bill at all. It's a
painting."
Ihe writer smothered his disappoint
ment and examined it more closelv. It
was a good picture. The torn edces of
the bill seemed to stand on t from the
wood; the delicate lines were accuratelv
traced; the head of the hero of New Or
leans was as perfect as a photograph,
and fictitious traces of paste along the
edges completed the illusion.
"ion see. a young fellow in here one
day said he was a painter and hard up.
I supposed, of course, he was a house-
painter, but found, to my surprise, (hat
he was an artist. He had never taken
and lessons, and the two little pictures
he showed me were really remarkable.
He left them here, and I showed them
to one or two of my friends who know
something about pictures. You mav im
agine my young painter's surprise whenj
x toia nim one of the pictures would bVi
exhibited at the Academy of Fine Arts.
He sold several others."
"What was his style?"
"Why, bless you, onco he painted a
siring across one of his pictures, livery
body wanted to brush it away. Ho
painted a pencil and penknife. Peopl
tried to brush the shavings away with
meir handkerchiefs.
"Where is he now?"
In Munich. I got a letter from
him
only the other day. He has eight
tures in the Munich exposition.
pic
His
name is William Harnett."
Monster Circulating Libraries.
It is often said that the system of mon
ster circulating libraries is a good thing
lor literature; but this may be doubted
or even emphatically denied. Some
thirty years ago, before the rise of these
establishments, there were in every part
of the country book clubs, oontainin&r
from a dozen to fifty members, who
chose and circulated the books from
house to house. If, then, a good book of
travel, or historical research, or
biography were written, the publisher
might feel sure that among these clubs
an editfon would sell, and on that secur
ity could offer good terms to the author.
The book clubs have vanished, and the
half-dozen monster libraries, if indeed
there be so many, make less than half
the number of books do among their far
larger number of readers. The present
system has fostered the growth and de
velopment of the second-rate novel, but
it has in no decree aided literature
properly so called. Fortnightly Review.
Swapping a Jackass for a $40,000 Lot,
Henry Clay once owned the lot op
posite the White House, in Washington,
and Commodore John Rogers wanted it,
but the old Whig persisently refused to
dispose of it. On his return from the
Mediterranean tbe Commodore brought
in one of his vessels a fine Andalusian
jackass, which Clay wanted for his Ken
tucky stock farm. All his offers were
rejected, until one day the Commodore
said: ' Yon can have him for your lot
opposite the White House." "Done,"
was Clay's reply, and the animal was
shipped off to Kentucky. The Commo
dore bnilt the now historic house which
Secretary Seward occupied during the
war. Here Payne endeavored to as
eaasinate him on the night when Presi
dent Lincoln was shot. The lot is now
valued at $40,000. Pittsburg Dispatch.
Three Rnle for Speakers.
The first, in the words of Horace:
"Dicendi recte principium est sapere, et
fonsY' that' is, "Know exactly what you
are going to say.'' The second, "En
deavor to forget yourself." This frame
of mind had been formulated by old
elocutionists as "Have a contempt for
your audience." He preferred to state
it in a less obnoxious way as "Consider
yourself one of your audience." The
third, "Be natural and unaffected."
By bearing in mind these simple in
junctions any man free of congenital or
acquired defects, though he might not
be a brilliant, could hardly fail in being
an agreeable and sympathetic speaker.
London Nature.
Couldn't Light a Fire.
"Hurry out in
the fire, Johnny;
the kitchen and light
I want to get supper
early."
"Can't."
"Don't answer me that way, but go
along and do it."
"Can't."
"There, now, that'll do. Don't be so
impudent. Go light the fire."
"I tell voulcan'tl"
"Why can't you?"
" 'Cause nobody can light a fire. If
there's a fire there it's already lit; and if
there isn't any, there isn't any. But I can
light the kmdlin if that's what you
mean." Kentucky State Journal.
An oyster has been known to open its
shell to hear the music of an accordion.
If there was any doubt about the stupid
ity of the bivalve, this settles it. '
tJOEIiAL NEWS.
Arabi is studying the English lan
guage.
A chalk factory has been established
at Moravia, N. Y.
Theodore Tilton is growing old and
gray and corpulent.
Mrs. Kate Chase Sprague now signs
herself Mrs. Catherine Chase.
Nearly a million feet of lumber is an
nually turned into base ball bats.
Horse cars run between El Paso,
Texas, and Paso del Norte, Mexico.
Near CharlottsvilJe. Va., a Jersey red
boar and sow lately sold for $10.60.
Sarah Bernhardt has been getting her
life insured, in favor of her son Maurice.
The Piedmont counties of Virginia
promise a good yield oi wneat mis year.
The combined annual income of Gen
eral and Mrs. Grant is estimated at
$9000.
The manufacture of straw lumber is
to be entered into on a large scale in
Chicago.
None of Queen Victoria's children are
allowed to see her without special per
mission.
The Yocona, Miss., mills, from Jan
uary 1st to April 22d, turned out 95,000
pounds of yarn.
A young man in Otsego county, N. x..
gained $125,000 on the raise in hops
within the last year.
The Marquis of Lome is nearly thirty-
eight years old, and Princess Louise is
just over thirty-five.
Princess Louise pieces out her hus
band's income of $50,000 with an income
of $30,000 of her o n.
The oil mill at Yazoo City, Miss., has
paid out to people living neur that town
$90,000 since last July.
Alexander Mitchell has, .it is said, in
his house in Milwaukee probably the
finest library in the West.
It is estimated that the vineyards of
Arkansas were damaged 20 per cent, by
a recent wind and hailstorm.
One firm in Chattanooga, outside of
other work, has made and sold 300 saw
mills within the past two years.
Lord Lansdowne has been requested
to accept the Presidency of the Royal
Geographical Society of.London.
George Bancroft, though past eighty
two, still rides on horseback and sits
more erect than many joung men.
Marie Roze was entertained at break
fast recently by Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone
at the Premier's official residence.
The real name of Louise Michel, the
French anarchist woman, is said to be
Mme. Tinayre, nndshe has two sons.
Nineteeen million bottles are annually
manufactured in the Netherlands, tbe
greatest part being square battles for
gin. - w
Queen Victoria, if tho royal family of
England should lose their titles by a re
publican overflow, would be plain Mrs.
Wettin.
Jefferson Davis is growing oranges on
his Mississippi plantation, and believes
the conditions there more favorable than
in Florida.
The Llano live stock ranch, in Mo-
Lellan county, Texas, contains 120,000
acres of land, and required two carloads
of wire to fence it.
A daily chicken train has been started
. . w a ml
on the Pennsylvania ranroaa. Aney
have a passenger coach in the rear and a
locomotive to pullet. ,
The bridge by whioh the narriiburg
and Western railroad will enter Harris-
burg will be nearly two miles in length
and will cost $3,000,000.
In Siam thev worship tho elephant.
In this country we don t exactly bow
down to the animal, but we sometimes
pay pretty dearly for seeing it.
Henry D. McDaniel, who was elected
Governor of Georgia on Tuesday, is
worth about $50,000, and has a practico
as a lawyer worth from to a
year.
Mrs. Martha Ryan, of Lenoirs, Tenn.,
is forty-seven years old, is nve feet ten
inches high, is the mother of a large
family of children, . and weighs 392
pounds.
The Uunard steamship uompany made
over a munon iotc year, out or wnicu
ample provision was made for deprecia
tion and a dividend oi 4 per cent, per an
num was paid.
Tilden is charged with manipulating
the Croton Water bill now before the .
New York legislature in such a way as
to increase his influence with the Demo-,
cratio machine.
In ten years the wheat acreage of the
United States has nearsy doubled, 19,-
000,000 acres being the number reported
at the beginning, and 36,000,000 at the
end of the decade.
R. F. Caggin tells Pittsburg iron
makers that iron can be made in Western
Kentucky for $12.55, and on the Cum
berland and Tennessee rivers for $5 less
than Pennsylvania prises.
Mrs. Marv 3t Stover, Andrew John
son's daughter, who died a few days ago,
left two daughters, Mrs. Maloney and
Mrs. Bachman, and one son. Tbeteid
now but one child of the late president
liying Mrs. Patterson.
As the next to having wisdom our
selves is to profit by that of others, so
the next thing to having merit ourselves
is to take care that the meritorious profit
bv us: for he that rewards the descrying
makes himself one of the number. -
The young Marquis of Conyngham,
who is one of the greatest land owners
in Ireland, received a rapturous recep
tion on bringing his bride to Slaue
Castle, his princely home in ! loath,
last month. His wife is an Irish woman.
The oldest workingman is Maryland,
and probably the oldest in tbe Union, ia
Robert Lewis of Hagerstown. He ia
ninety-five years old, and han just
finished the masonwork of a cistern, do
ing the work in a thorough manner.
Senator Beck is said to have started in
as a farm hand. Conger as a lumber
hand.Daviiof West Virginia as a brakes
man. Fair as a bartender, Vest as a re
porter, Farley as a stage driver, German
as a page, Sawyer as a Laborer, Jcaes of
Florida as a carpenter, and Morrill as a
oountry storekeeper.