SEMI-WBEKLY
SIDE
VOL. I
----- Issued—
EVERY TUESDAY AND’FRIDAY
—i«-
Garnsons Bniliim, McMinnville, Oregon,
- BY —
Tftlmatf® «& Turner,
Fublizhara and Proprietors.
SUBSCRIPTION
One year..................................
S|smonths ...
Three months
RAT1U8:
$2 00
25
• 1 *-
75
Intered in the Postoffioe at McMinn ville, Or.,
*
as second-class matte»*.
H. V. V. JOHNSON, M. D.
Northwest corner of Second and B street»,
-
-
oregon .
-
May he found at his office when not absent on pro
fs« Juual buBhic.fi.
1ITTLEFIELD & CALBREATH,
and Surgeons,
Physicians
M c M innville and L afayette , or .
J. F. Calbreath, M. D.. office over» Yamhill County
Bank, McMinnville, Oiegon.
M R. Littlefield, M. D., office ou Main street,
Lafayette. Oregon.
S. A. YOUNG, M. D.
Physician and Surgeon,
*
M c M innville
*
-
cregon
All calls promptly
Office and residence on D street.
answered day or night.
DR. G. F. TUCKER,
DKATIMT,
MCMINNVILLE
OREGON.
-
-
Office- Two doors eaat of Bingham's furniture
store.
Laughing gas administered for painless extraction.
ST. CHARLES HOTEL
The Leading; Hotel of McMinnville.
$1 and $2 IIou-c. Single meals 25 cents.
Fine Sample
Booms for Commercial Men
F. MULTNER, Prop.
AV. V. PRICE,
PHOTOGRAPHER
Up Stairs in Adams' Building,
M c M innville
-
oregon
CUSTER POST BAND,
The Best in the State.
la prepared to fuinifih music for all occasions at reason
able rates. Address
N. .7. rtOWLiAJN»,
Business M mager, McMinnville.
M'MINNVILLE
Livery, Feed and Sale Stables,
Corner Third and D streets, McMinnville
LOGAN BROS. & HENDERSON,
Proprietors.
The Best Rigs in the City. Orders
Promptly Attended to Day or Night,
“ORPHANS’ HOME”
BILLIARD HALL.
A Strictly Temperance Resort.
•oae good(’) Church raemb-r, to th# contrary not
withstanding.
“Orphans’
Home SS
TONSORIAL PARLORS,
Tk# only first claM, and the only parlor-Uke shop in the
city. None but
First - class
Workmen
Ensployed.
Tint door .1Uth of Yamhill County Bank Building.
M c M innville , oregon .
H. H. WELCH.
PUNGENT
PARAGRAPHS.
—Age appears to increase the value
of everything except women and but-
‘er—.V. F. fiaiV.
—Wealth's Luxury.—
“ires happy lie whoso wealth will let him
choose
"bother to get up or take another snooze.
— Dansri’le Breeze.
— A writer in a magazine says the
*nrth would be heated more than 190
degrees by being stopped. And now
■otUe fool who owns the earth will be
’illy enough to try the experiment.—
Burlington Haukege.
—It was said of an inveterate drunk-
*r’l that he had met with great afflic
tion. and drank to drown his grief.
"Then." said a bystaad r. “his grief
must know how to «won. for he has
never baen able to drown it.”— N. K.
Lflgtr.
— “Do yon know tho prisoner. Mr.
•ones?” “Yes. to tho bone.” “What
his character?" “Didn't know that
Its had any.”
Does he live near
you?" “So near that he only spent
I*v« cents for fire wood in eight years."
iu
ELEPHONE
M’MINNVILLE, OREGON, JANUARY 14, 1887.
WEST SIDE 'TELEPHONE.
M c M innville
*
A
MAN I
LIKE.
. like a man who all mean things despises,
\ inau who has a purpose firm and true;
Vlio laces every doubt as it uses,
And murmurs not at what he finds to dv.
' '<<’ a man who shows the noble spirit
* splayed by knights ol Arthur's table
round:
no. face to face with life, proves his r -a
merit,
• ho has a soul that dwells above the
ground.
I vet. one who can und rstand the worry
> •« no- chance brother fallen in the roa f,
n I speak to him a kind word ’mid the
hurry,
Or lay an eas ng hand upon his load.
irge hearted, brave-souled men to day are
li'- 'led,
Men ready when occasion’s doors swing
wi'le;
rand men to speak the counsel that 1*
heeded.
And men In whom a nation may confide.
lie world Is wide, and broad its starry
arclit s.
But lagging malcontents it can not hol t .
e wav of life to him who upright marches
lias • ndlng in a far-off street of gold.
—Meredith Nicholson, in Iudianaoolis Journal.
LIFE ON A RAFT.
wo Brothers Nearly Dashed Over
a Cataract.
It is now some years since, tliat ac-
■ompanied by my brother, and under
the guidance of an experienced hunter,
I started for three months’ shoot ng in
the Canadian wilds. Our plan was to
travel by canoe to the lower end of
Lake Huron, and then plung'ng into
tlie primeval forest, to make a circuit
tl at would bring us out somewhere on
the St. Lawrence, Never was a pleas-
anter excursion. Those aged woods,
so gray
and
grim ’n
win-
ter,
seemed
o grown
to
have
young again beneath the affluence of
leaves while every sunlit glade was filled
with flowers, and blossoming vines of
every hue hung as garlands from the
branches, as if the woods were decked
for some h'gh festival. But more pleas
ant still to the sportsman’s heart was
the abundant game tlie tim'd deer,
which fled at our approach; tlie great
grisly bear, ready to bld us defiance,
and the panther and wolf, lurking
within the coverts: not to speak of the
partridges and bustards, and the brill
iant small bird«, flashing 1 ke errand
blossoms among the trees. Mean
while, despite our pleasure, our t me
grew short, and it became necessary to
bend our steps howeward.
We had not traveled far in this new
direct on when we came to tlie banks of
a considerable river flowing across our
route. We had no boat to take us over
it, and Jerome, the glide, search’d dil
igently beneath the overhanging alder
and hemlock boughs, in case some
hunter
or
backwoods
traveler
might have hidden his canoe there.
But none was to be d scovered. «v-i wo
were ruefully beginning to follow our
guide’s advice, and travel round by the
river’s source—which would involve
some ten or twelve days’ extra journey
—when one of those huge rafts in which
backwoods timber for exportat on is
conveyed down country, c m i in sight.
It was floating slowly along on the al
most imperceptible current, it« single
large sail giving just sufficient way to
tlie float ing island to allow the enormous
tiller to guide it aright; while tlie smoke
from the half-score shanties scattered
its surface, rising against the deep green
forest, the ever-changing groups of
figures, and the lines of washed clothes
fluttering in the breeze, added to its
picturesque aspect.
As the raft drew near, we perceived
that a canoe was towed astern, and.
hailing the slumberers, we reouested its
use to cross the river, which they readi
ly accorded. But while the little bark
was being paddled to land a new idea
struck us—we would a«k them to take
us as passengers. Rafting was á mode
of travel entirely new to us, and the
thought of that smooth summer sail was
a great temptation to travelers weary
with plodding through tlie woods. Tlie
needful negotiation wass ion concluded,
and in halt an hour we found ourselves
not only on board the raft, but the
happy possessor of a shanty some six
feet square. Never do I remember any
th'ng more delightful than to sit with n
its shadow, and, as our raft gl d d
noiselesslv along the wn’en ng river, to
watch the"ever-varying sc nery through
which we passed—the dark pine-for
ests, alternating ’with bright green
oak and birch and sycamore woods:
the swelling hills show ng their
p cturesque outline« spa nst tlie clear
blue sky; and the occasi mal tributary
streams, some dashing down their
waters in silvety Cascades, others bear
ing on their placid bosoms some sum I
raft, with its tiny shantv and little fam
ily group, to be linked on to the float
in: g island.
We found, also, endless interest in
watching the doings of our m oratory
village. The tall, brawny lumlierers in
dolently lounging about the r easy
duties of trimming the sa 1. taking their
turn in steering and drawing the troll
ing lines, which rarely failed of fi-h;
while their wives, grave rugged women.
Clad in dark petticoat«, and snow-white
•un-bonnets. were perpetually busy,
knitting, cooking, wa-hing. or chasing
their rebellious children about the raft,
or else in feeding the cock- and hen-
tiiat stalked among tlie logs. and. with
i wrathful turkey-cock, completed our
ist of passengers. And when n'ght
fi 11, and the frying of fish and eating of
•upper were passed, and jest ar d
laughter had given place to silence and
, -'eep, it was beautiful to hear the voic s
| if tho«e quiet women swell over the
I tarlit river in the long-drawn cad nces
f some old hymn.
For two days we pursue«! our tranquil
I vrivmre through the same svlvan scenery.
nut
gradually
our pace
in
creased, as the current
gained
in strength; and after a time the
river began to break into occasional
rap.ds, over whose rugged ledges wo
thumped anil bunq cd. m d ('own whose
surging slope« we s'itl, thanks to the
lumberers sk II c ir n ing from their
dangers unharnm I t„ n those davs
there did not <••
lhe ,nost
frequent'd spots any contrivance to
lessen the hazards of such descents.
It was the fourth evening of our river
voyage. Supper wa.s past, and the sup-
p r-hvmn sung, and my brother and I
had wrapped ourselves in our blankets,
and fallen asleep on our bear-skin
couches, when we were suddenly awak
ened by a rude shock, followed by the
surge of broken water. Supposing we
were descend ng a rapid, we lay still for
a moment and listened. But the tur
moil of water appeared louder than
u«ual. and in another instant there
arose a wild cry tliat made us start to
our feet, followed, ere we could leave
the hut, by many others yet more ter
rific, and echoed by the shrill screams
of women. Some disaster had evident
ly occurred; but when we rushed out
upon the raft, the cloudy dark-
de-s preven ed
our
d stinguish-
ing what it was. while the con-
.us on of voices and the hoarse cries of
the lumberers added to our bewilder
ment. However, as we hastened across
the logs to learn its meaning, we all
but stepped into the rushing rap'd, ren
dered v s ble by its pale wr a hs of
foam: and theu the truth flashed upon
us that some violent blow had broken
the huge raft into the number of small
om s of wit ch it had originally been
composed, and that our own portion
had eparated from all the rest, leaving
my brother and me ¡done, for Jerome
slept on another part of the raft. As
soon as we discovered our posit on we
called to announce it to the lumberers,
but, in tho tumult of voices, ours re
ma ned unheard. Again and again we
repeated onr cries, but with the same
result: while gradually the voices grew
■a nter, proving that the divided por
tions of the raft w ' ijc already scatter
ing: and at length all sound ‘ ceased as
they passed entirely out of hearing.
We were men not easily daunt d, but
ours was no pleasant pos' tion, alone in
the darkness among the rapids, which
might at any moment break up the raft
beneath our feet: while of what means
were available to save ourselves, we
knew nothing. There seemed nothing
j left us but patience; and divest
ourselves of our
heavier cloth-
ing,
in
case
of emergency,
we
sat awaiting daylight, and
«hat it might disclose. Meanwhile
the waves st 11 foamed around us, as if
the rapid were interminable, and the
raft grated and ground d incessantly
against the rocks. At length, just as
day dawned, revealing, to our aston
ishment, our raft wedged among »he
rocks near the shore, she gave a sud
den jerk, and whirling round into the
rap d soon swept down into the smooth
water below.
We had now leisure to look around
us. As we expected, none of the other
rafts were visible, but great was out
disappointment to d'scover that the
river now flowed between sharp, rocky
barks, and tliat if, as we meditated, we
swam ashore to continue our journey
on land, we should be unable to climb
the wall-like barrier. The
y re-
sou co left us, little as we understood
its management, was to reman on
board • the raft and float along at the
will of the current and rapids until
some change in the shore
'
• . - favor
.
might
our land.ng.
Meanwhile, out ot a loose plank
we contr veil a tiller, to get
over
the un-
some command
wieldy craft, wh'ch •till held its way
But as the hours passed
down stream. F
by, show ng no break in the stern bank
of rock between which we gl ded, our
hope of landing b -¡ran to fade; and
when night again fell on our lonelin >ss,
our helplessness, and our ignorance of
what dangers m ght await us on that
unknown river, we felt nigh despair.
Alii.o t to our surprise, the night was
got through safely, and morning saw
our shapeless craft st II floating down
the solitary st earn, with those dark
prec p ces. crowned with p'ne fore-t«,
still frown ng upon us from each side,
and thus- frequently recurring rapids
checkering our course. About noon we
en ered noon the fiercest we had yet en
counter d. Our tiller w:ts useless
among the breakers, which roared and
raged around the raft
1 grew almost terrified as I noted how
swiftly we sped pa-t the rocks, which
here and there stood up from the waves
j like silent Warners; and yet more wa« I
alarmed when, lo iking ahead. I beheld
the long vista of leaping, surging cas
cades, down whose troublous course we
l should be driven if the fabric beneath
jour feet still held together.
But back-
woods rafts are made for such encoun-
t r ; fcarlesslv the log-boat plunged
from ledge to ledge. At length a deep,
reverberating roar rose above the
•urround ng tumult. My brother
land I started at th; unexpe-ted
|-outlet; then w ■ looked eagerly forward
and perceived, but a -hurt wav ahead, a
cloud of silvery haze float'ng like a
halo over the surface of the river. It
was the con'irmat on of our newly
awakened fear«, the unerring indication
that a cataract was before u«, and that
we Were nulling at railway spee 1 on a
terr ble and spe dy death.
Never a all I forget the pang o' that
fearf'il discovery: the bitter |.r >«pect of
i dy ng in health and strength, and yield-
j ing up the hope« and a-piratlons of our
ncloudtd youth; the thought of tiled s-
tant home we -hould never see again:
i and the beloved and loving one« soon to
| lie doubly bereaved, and worse than all,
the knowle ge that th • dear brother
I must share our mtiending fate. With
I «warm imoul ■ of frat« rnal 1 >va. we
i
ciaspeu each otner s nanus an mat re
mained to us now was to die together.
Meanwhile the d n of the fall swelled to
a thunderous roar that reverberated
through the .surrounding woods; tho
tumultuous rap ds surged into a ficrcet
fury, and urged the raft to a
speed which made her tremble; while
we, her hapless passengers, stood
_____
silently
j . awaiting
.......... „ our ' inevitable doom,
to be swept over that relentless fall, to
be tossed in that horrible abyss, and
finally east f rth disfigured and bruised,
among the seething eddies of the still
rushing river. It was a fearful inter
val. Nearer and nearer the raft drew
to the fatal brink nearer and yet
nearer, until vve could almost look into
the dark vo'd beyond.
Her last mo
ment and ours al ko seemed come, and
in the deep anguish of such a parting
we elung closer to each other.
Suddenly the raft approached another
rock; it was nearer to us as well as
larger than those which had preceded it.
and pre-ented a nr row footing.
Tlmimlii al such m men s is swift s-
I glitning. and action little less so; and
almost ere 1 had seen this ark of hope
my brother bound 'd across the raft,
drawing tne w th him, and with a des
perate leap, oniy to be ventured in peril
such a-s otirs, sprang over the fathom
broad space of rushing water, on to the
rock beyond. Another moment and I
too had leaped it; and standing in com
parative safety on that small but im
movable refuge, we watched the raft,
whose fate we had so nearly shared,
plunge over the foam ng cataract, to bo
dashed into the deep chasm below.
Still we were girt round by many
dangers. A single si p might d -tach us
from tho rock, a s nglc wave still sweep
us over tho falls; while looking land
ward, nothing was visible save a few
dark, jutting rocks, around wh'ch the
r ver foamed.
Their wet, slippery
po nts afforded little hope of escape, yet
it was our only one, and therefore must
e tried; and with rigidly braced nerves
mil concentrated energies, we com-
•n nee I our hazardous task of leaping
Tom rook to rock, closing our ears to
tin1 d afening roar, and our eyes to the
hurry ng current over which we passed,
■is v ■ pursued our perilous way, until,
>. th " merev of Providence, the fourth
■oek br light us to the shallower water,
hr High wh'ch we waded to land.
Tne now rugged bank gave easy ac-
■•e <s to the land above; anil a few hours’
travel southward brought us to Lake
VVeno, where, to our surprise, we found
onr companion-rafts in safety, and
learned that we had passed, without ob
serving. the narrower but safe outlet to
the river furnished by the VVeno creek,
and thus not only missed Jerome and
tho lumberers sent back to aid ns, but
encountered that most fearful incident
of our lives, our escape from tho VVeno
Falls.— Bal'ou's Magazine.
HE WAS EXCUSED.
An Old Darky’s Striking Argument In a
(JueNtion of Natural History.
Down in the woods of the Chicka
mauga battle fields rabbits skurry from
one brush-heap to another, and th
squirrels chatter as they look down from
their perches at men wandering from
point to p >int in the openings. W
were sk rt'ng Snodgrass Hill when w
heard a gun go off, followed by a serie
of yells and whoops. Pushing into th
woods a few rods we came upon an ol
tlarky seated on a log with one pant-le
rolled up. There were four or five tTi.i
streams of blood running down, and
was plain enough that some scattering
shot Iiad struck him.
As we reached him a colored bo.
about sixteen years old came out of th
brush with a light shot-gun in his hands,
anti the old mm looked up and said:
“Julius, look heih! You has dun
shot your ladder in de leg!”
“Why, pap, I dun ’sposed you wa :>
rabbit. I seed sunthin’ movin' in it
brush, an’ I blazed away."
“ ’Zactly, Julius—I correspond. Y<e
dun took an ole nigger weighin’ on
hundred and eighty pounds fur a littl
rabbit ’bout a foot long an’ jist ’nitiT to
make soup for one! Julius, Ize gwinc
to show you de difference between a
rabbit an’ your fadder!”
He had be n cutting a green 1 t.ib a«
he talked, and when he finished he took
the boy by tho collar and played the
“bud” to him until the young man
jumped two feet high and sung out 1 k
a brass band. By and by we gently in
terfered to prevent further punishment
and tlie old man held the boy oil' and
asked:
“Julius, does you see me?”
“Yes fadder/
“Does you know me frum a rabbit?”
••Yes.
“Den you start fur hum an’ pick up
dat hoe an' make dat co’ntield ache, an
de nex' time you go huntin’ you hollo
off yer niouf befo you shoot off vi
gun! Gem'len, good mawnin’, a
please’scuse dis lectle disrupshun.”
Detroit free Pres*.
—The Or 'gon luml«r business is sai
to be in a ¡loir shing condition.
—One who ha.« had a a-iUor's experi
ence on both ocean« writes to a New
York cont tun > arv that a noticeable
■
on the Pa
difference
is i-> the number
cilie and t
re is less
of vessels
variety on the
he compen
sation is in les
di collision,
People projecting
on the
Pacific must not be n it'' ^ts name,
eats this traveler, for t'i
s of the'
Atlantic are table« ■ oinfiared with
those of its sister o ean.
—Twenty thousai d « il» were cap
tured la»" year by the nativ M of Van-
NO. 62
f
t
NEW
GOLD
FIELDS.
DifTteul!it*« Under Which the Metal Ilan to
lie <)bta)n«‘<l in Australia.
For some years tho Government of
<Ves*ern Australia lias oll'ered a reward
of £5,000 for the discover of a payable
gold field within three hundred miles of
a declared port. From recent news
front Perth, it would almost appear that
a p: ofitable gold field has at lust been
discovered.
We learn that Messrs.
Malot and M’ Ewen, who were sent by
the Government to explore the Kimber
ley district, in the extreme north of the
colony, have returned, after an expedi
tion which nearly proved disastrous to
the explorers. They lost the r horses;
and having consumed all their provi
sions, only escaped starvation by coming
unexpectedly to a settler’s hut, whore
they obtained ass'stan: e. The party
arr'ved barefooted, their boots having
fallen to p'eces on the tramp of one
hundred miles. Mr. M’Ewen nearly
succumbed to the hardships of tho jour
ney. A quantity o? the new gold has
already found its way to England. Ac
cording to advices from Derby, the port
of the country —named after the pres
ent Lord Derby, and s tuated at the head
of King’s sound—large numbers of
people, who were totally unfitted for
the work, were starting for the Kim
berley gold fields. A- the roads are
rough, and provisions scarce and dear,
with an absence of water, it goes with
out saying that no one need venture in
search of wealth wi boot being supplied
with plenty of money and an ample
supply of provisions. The country is
described as closely resembling the
Peak Down district in Queens-
land.
The _ gold is much scat-
toied, but the guides are numerous,
It is expected that so soon as tho
alluv al gold is worked out. productive
reefs will be laid bare. The Kimberley
distr'et, contrary to what many have
opposed, is a country about four and a
half t mes the size of Scotland, w.th
splendid rivers and with m llions of
;><• es of pa toral and agricultural land.
I he el mate has been commended by
Captain Grey and other explorers as
>ne of the finest and health est in the
trop cs. Last year tile population num
bered only about one hundred white
men: the blacks, who are not numerous,
are tra table. Sheep, cattle and horses
thr ve well, so that, whether or not th'
gold fields fulfill the expectations oi
Irisewho seek their fortunes at the gold
fields, there is a fine country to de-
v. lope. Derby, the capital of this dis-
trie , at the mouth of the Fitz.roy river,
•ous sted lately of but a few huts and
tents, and is the station of a Govern
ment res dent. Should
Khonl.l tho
«l.n “ru«h
I."
” to
lie gold fields continue, doubtless all
this will s ion be changed. — 1'.'/usmbers'
our a al.
SPECIALIZED
EFFORT.
’ In1 Jack-of-One-Tool, tlie Man Who A<-
com pllnlies Great Tilings.
The world has arrived at that stage of
let elopment where eon entrated effort
done can produce any notable aeh evo-
'tfi.t. Jacks-of-all-tra<lcs have lost
her employment. It is tho Jaek-of-
me-trado, and st 11 more the Jack-ot-
me-tool. who accomplish s 1 h it. which
ilie world values and demands to-day.
I'h's a Ivancement of the specialists, ex
ends to all occupation«, trades, sciences,
irtIt does not T*eept any man lx-
•ause he is an Meulist or gen us. It
i plies just as mil h to the man who
>a nts on canvas as to the man who
• a nts on iron or wood.
S :eh being the ca ,e ought not a war 1
f ; drice to bo given to those who con
i inplate making ] enmnn-h p their pro
cs ion? Do not attempt to do too
n eh—that i-'. do not make the sphere
if yopr endeavor too inclusive. Th •
n.1.1 who sets out with the intention of
■overing the whole ground, and at-
a ning an e pial excellence in every de
partment of fine writing, wh'le he may
ga n a degree of skill that would make
uni famous n the <iays of the begin-
n n rs. will n future be sad'y eclip e I,
«11 rever be may'exerc'se his talent, by
o-o who have d vote I themselves to
ha department of the art alone. It is
ilwayswisc to work in harm my with
•eii r tl principles and prevalent pr n-
■ 'cs n th s world: anti the prevalent
rice |>le today s that of ...... ali'ed
■111 rt in every form of human aeh <• ’<»
in 1L I'aul Pas nor, in I'tuoia
’«
a .
I>r. Lc Piongeon and wire,
have spent years studying the ruins of
( entral America, be I eve the Maya civ
ilization dates back eleven thousand or
twelve thousand years, and that it is the
parent of the oldest civilizations of Asia
an<l Afr.ca, and in the symbols which
the doctor finds he sees clear evidence
that the sacred mysteries of the Egyp
tians, Hindoos, Persians, and afterward
the Gre k«, originated in the temples of
Maya, and that the r.tes of Freemasonry,
to which various origins have been as
signed. 1 k<twise began here.
— “The ox know'ith his owner, and
the ass his master s crib." So wrote
the prophet ages ago. An exemplifica
tion of the truth of the-c words (says
the Zfocl) was given in Carshalton a
few days ago by a pet donkey, which
iiad la-en stolen and sold to an unsus
pect ng purchaser, who in innocence
to k it to the locality where its rightful
owner lived. The donkej^point blank
rolu-cl to pa-« his owner's door, and
bo rg wi n by some of the occupants
was claimed a« their property. Il is
-••I »factory to know that the thief I im
been conv < ted.
,
NORWEGIAN HOSPITALITY.
iludoess That Is Refreshingly Open-
Handed, I nafiTroted and Generous.
In no land is hospitality more open-
landed and more unaffected than in
Norway, aud though these features are
laturally becoming bl.mt'd along the
leaten lines of travel, tho genuine
joodness of heart, tine “gentlemanly"
eeling and euiire a'isenee of that
■ordidtiess which is often soen even in
irimitive regions can not fa 1 to str ke
in unprejudiced obs Tver. Nor is
itiquette ignored by even the rud. st of
lie people. In the cities the stranger
s apt to make many blunders. In the
¡ountry, however, this is not less
narked, though perhaps the v sit<>r
vill be less conscious of its presence.
)ne of the peculiarities of the Nor-
vegian farmer is tliat, when vis ting a
riend, lie must ignore all the prepar-
itions made for his entertainment. Ho
v II see the coffee roasted, aud the cups
et out, and then, just when thago.xl
vifo is about to offer him her hospi
ality, lie gets up, bids tho fami y good
ie, ami is only pers.ia led to ro-
mi n after some resistance. Every cup
oust lie filled to overflowing, otherwise
lie host would bo thought st ngy.
Vhen milk, brandy or beer is off red.
Im guest invariably begs that t will
mt “be wasted on him." and then after
imp ying the cup declares tliat “it is
....... inch,” going through the samo
ormalitios, it may bo. throe or four
inies. In the farm houses, or upland
‘.«actors," the guest is left to eat alone,
lilvcr forks and spoons being often
lubstituted for the carved wooden ones
isod by the family, and a fine white
•loth for tlie bare board which serves
veil enough on ordinary occasions.
I’o a punctilious guest th's may not bo
i drawback, for at the family table, as,
ndeed, among tho peasants in Scan-
linavia everywhere, the different in-
lividua's dip spoons into tho same
lishes of “grod” and sour milk; but
'or any one desirous of studying a
leople a load of foreign prejudice is a
jrievous bur len to carry about. When
i child is born tlie wife of every noigh-
>or cooks a dish of "llodogrod” (por-
•idge made with cream instead of milk)
md brings it to the convalescent, there
leing a good deal of rivalry among the
na runs to outdo each other in tho
puility and size of tlie d sb. When any
m h is taken food in a Scandinavian
muse Im shakes hand« with the host
ind hostess Jn l isiiig from the table,
md says: “ I’ak lor mad” (“Thanks for
j>od”), to which they reply: “Veil be-
(online” (May it agr.n w.tli you). In
nany par's of S andinavia all tho
piests shake hands w.th each other,
mil repeat the latter formula; and in
S’orway, at least, it is tne fashion for a
fliest to cull on tho hostess a few days
liter, and when slm appears lo gravely
ay •• Tak for sidst” (“Thanks for last
iine”) great gravity on this formal
isit boinga mark of good breeding.—
The Peop'ss of the World.
WHAT SHE BOUGHT.
Irstiltn of a Tliou<<itfni American Wom
an's Shopping Kt,».» litlon.
Mrs. Flyan>un<l i h quite a model wife,
dr. F. is u good but in ,u’sitivo hus-
mnd. She has b on shopping all
ifurnoon, and he is intint on
¿novving as much about her experience
is she docs herself.
lie protests: “I swear I can't for
he life of inc see what you women
¡nd in the stores to interest you all
iftornoon.”
She explains: "But, my dear, you
lon't know what bar/a ns I found.”
"Bargains! B >»»li, (o hear you talk
*ne would think that 1 am a plumber
>r a in il---- ”
'•There, dearie, don’t get angry. If
ou c mid only' have seen that lovely
lew fall cloak I saw at ILmdnmdown
« t'o.'s, I know you would sav it was
heap at ono Imn Ire I ami forty dol-
ars/’
‘•I dar ■ say,” sarcastieal'y.
“And that mahogany let nt Imita
tion Bro.'s -one thousand night huu-
tred dollars -my, how boa itifully that
would do for tlie front chamber up-
,ta rs. ’
"No doubt," with a forced smile.
“Thon tlmro w is that full-era -
broid red cra'.v-qnilt, plush finish -
just ori lital, it wa« Lat Mr. Tenpnr-
•entofi"s, only Iw » Im id red dollars,
and I th night how complete it would
make the fern shing of the room. • 1
“Of course," w th sun r -«»cd anger.
“But llm b Hinet at Mi«« Quitointha-
fashion's: m-y! Ge >rgc, and I thought
huw lovely t wouM go .with my terra
cotta, and —"
“Yes, and yoa bought it," pale with
disgust.
••No. dear: w'ia’ mile vou think
that?"
“O, becill-e il W 11 lb' jll«t like a
woman,” aoiu wli.ii u dlilied
••Well, lar in r 1 d dn't: ill I I m . ii ght
was a p dka lot t c for yon and b.b p h
(or baby."- « ■ < /■» A'<.
Encouia^inx to Jones.
Brown You ask m • to load vou five
•lollart. Why <1 >1'4 vou 'jo a ro«s the
-treet totlie bank an I atk them to )«nd
it to y in? landing in >ney is taeir
busin '«s.
■lonoa -But th y don't kn >w me.
Ilroivn—All the morn chancoot your
getting it then.
,
Joies-Why?
Brown B H-:in«n no one who did
know yo t « ni l I nd y >u a n cknl.
Jone, ( lisda nf illy ) -Oh!
Br >w n -Y' u may oh ot icrs but you
can not owe me ~ fe.a<