A r s i 5 v.. r'l ! 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 7 . . --"V HkHWMPHHMiitMM - 77 ; 7 COMTM - 1 v- - i H ! - At 113 r!'. 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.