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VOLUME III.
-A-n Independent 3E?apev Devoted to the Interests >>?*' tlie t?eopl
ORANGEBURG, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1874.
NUMBER 33.
f.r...
THAMES VALLEY BONNETS.
DX DANTE Q. ?088ETXI.
WINTER.
How largo that thrush looks on tbo baro thorn-trool
A swarm of such, throe llttlo months ago,
Hid hidden In the leaves and lot nono know
Bavo by tho outburot of their mlnstrolsv.
A white flake horo and thoro?a snow-lily
Of last night's frost?our naked flowor-bods horn,
And for a rsse-flower on the darkeulog mould
Tho hungry readbrcast gleams. No bloom, no boo.
The current shudders*to Its Ice-bound sedge t
Hipped in tholr bath, tho Btark roods ono by ono
Flash each its clinging diamond In tho sun,
'Neatn winds whion for thla winter's covaragu
plodgo
Bhall curb groat king-masts to tho oeean'a edgo
And loavo memorial forest-kings o'orihrown.
SPRING.
Soft-Httcrcd 1? the new-year's lamblng-Iold,
And In tho hollowed haystack at its side
The shopherd hos o'ulght now, wakoful-oycd
At tho owes' travailing call through tho dark cold.
The young rooks oheop 'mid tho thick caw o tho
old; ,
Aud near unpeopled Btream-aldoji, on the ground,
Dy hor apring-cry the moor-hen'a neat la found,
Wheio tho drained flood-lands Haunt their marl
gold.
OhUl are tho gusts to whloh tho pastures oowor.
And chill tho current whoro tho young reads stand
As grrcn and eloss as tho young wheat on land;
Yet hero the cuckoo and tho cuckoo-flowor
Plight to tho heart spring's perfect lmmlnonl hour.
Whoso breath shall Booth you Uko your dear ono s
. hand. '
THE PRACTICAL JOKE.
"It will be jolly good fan," said Tom
Hurd, laughing vooiferously, "jolly
good fan. It's capital to play a joke on
a green follow like that, he takes it in
BO."
Tom Hurd was tho praotioal joker of
the school.
Praotioal jokes wero hia joy, and now
he had concocted one that was to cap
the climax and make him a shining
light among the fun-loving boys. Pale,
little Jaok Bedburn, whose mother was
a clergyman's widow, who loved her
only child with an absorbing tender
ness, which he returned in a way few of
the great boys could understand, was
to be the victim.
Harry Pratt was going to New York,
where the mother lived, and Tom Hurd
had instructed him to send a telegram
to Jaok, to the oaro of Professor Law
ton, bearing these terrible word :
" Your mother is dead, dome home."
Yes, and Tom had given Harry the
money for this telegram and had written
it out foi him.
"It will kill two birds with one
stone," said Tom. " Fancy Jaok and
the professor going off together in the
gig, and finding the old woman ? alive
and jolly I Well have a half-holiday,
too, and that's worth while, and nobody
can catch us as I have managed it. It's
I'oily fun 1 And to see how they'll come
>aok after it! Old Lawton furious and
little Jaok full of the story?ha, ha 1 It
will be fun 1"
"But it will scare him bo," said one
small boy.
" You hold your tongue," said Tom.
"What's tho fun of the joko if it
didn't?" '
And bo Harry pooketed the telegram
and bidding good-bye to his friends,
departed.
It was noon, next day. Tho boys
were playing in the school yard. Little
Jack sat perched upon the gate looking
out along the road. He was talking to
ilia chum, Will Sparrow,
"Six weeks to vacation," he said,
" and then I shall have six more with
mamma. I shall go out with hor to bgo
things, and in tho evening she will take
me in her lap as if I were a baby. I
love to be mamma's baby still. It is
nice?nothing is so nioe as that, thongh
the boys laugh at me for it. Woll,
what can that bo driving bo fast? If it
should be mamma come to Bee mo !"
Ho jumped down from the gate post'
and ran out into the road; but the
vehicle that approached held only one
young man. It was the telegraph mes
senger ; thoy all know him. He asked
for Professur Lawton, and stood wait
ing for his ooming with a grave counte
nance. When he came he whispered
something in his ear, before he handed
him a largo yellow envelope.
"It's our telegram," whispered Tom.
" Now for fun." -
Professor Lawton took tho message
with a countenance full of t rouble. He
walked into hi? study, and in a minute
more Mrs. Lawton came out into the
garden, and approaching little Jack
took him by tho hand and led him into
the hon so.
"We'll see tho gig brought out soon,"
said Tom. " It's working finely."
Tho jokers grouped about tho porch.
Ono or two looked very muoh scared,
bat'Tom was in high foather. They
listened, but heard no sound for a long
time. Then thero nroso a faint, long
drawn monn. A woman's soream fol
lowed it. Then came silence. Tom
stopped laughing. Ono of tho boys
began to ory. All felt a strange terror
come over them.
In a moment more tho study door
burnt, open and Mis. Lawton appeared.
"One of you boys?Tom Hurd, you,"
she cried, "yon aro tho largest?run
for Dr. Blair. Don't let him lose a
moment. Bun."
" What has happened ?" asked Tom.
"Don't stop to ask questions. Go,"
cried Mrs. Lawton.
And Tom, without his hat, started
off. It was a long run to the doctor's,
and ho was breathless when ho reached
tho door. He could not talk to the
doctor ns ho drove baok in hi? qig ; ha
oonld only say something dreadful must
have happened. And when the dootor
hurried into the professor'fl study he
waited outaide, trombling and trying in
vain to hear what was going on.
Mr. Barker, tho assistant, oamo
around tho house after awhile, and said
thero would bo no Kf?hool that after
noon, and t lint tho boys must make no
noise whatever.
' Tho praotieal jokers bad no wish to
do so. Thoy Bat silontly on tho porch,
until at last tho study door reopened
and the doctor oamo oat, with the pro
fessor following him.
"It is a terrible thing," he Bald,
slowly; "terrible. I have known sud
den shocks to. produce death' very of
ten, whon the heart was offeoted. Ah,
dear me!"
"Please sir," cried a dozen boys'
voices at once, " won't you tell us what
has happened?"
" That telegram was from poor Jack
Bedburn'B home," eaid the professor.
" His mother is dead. He was a deli
cate boy, and tho doctor says?"
"Ah, yeBl" said the dootor. "Yes,
yes?dropped dead at once, didn't he
poor fellow?"
" Dead 1" cried the boys.
"Dead 1" cried Tom Hurd. " Ob,
dootor 1 dootor 1 no, no, no 1 Savo
him ! save him 1 It's a joke?a wicked
joke. His mother is alive. I sent the
telegram. Tell him that; it will bring
him to. Tell him ! tell bim 1"
" Dead people can't be brought to,"
cried tho doctor. "Are you speaking
the truth?"
" Oh, yes," cried Tom, groveling in
the dust. " Oh, yes. Oh, God forgive
me! Will I be hung? O try to save
him, dootor I"
" Thomas Hurd," oried the professor,.
" staud up; don't grovel there. Do
yon mean all this? Did you really
send a lying message to a widow's only
son to tell him she was dead?"
" Yea, sir," said Tom. " Oh, I am bo
sorry. I wish I was dead. Oan't some
thing be done ? He may not be quite
gono. Oh, pray, pray, try."
"Why did you do snoh a thing as
this?" asked the dootor.
" Only for fun," answered Tom.
" Do you think it fun now ?" asked
the dootor.
" I'm a murderer!" said Tom. " Oh,
hang me 1 hang me 1"
". Do you think the law would allow
us to do it, dootor ?" asked the profes
sor. "I should like very much to
risk it."
"Please do," said Tom, seriously.
He dropped on tho steps as ho spoke,
and, lying on his face, began to moan:
"I've killed him! I've killed him I
I've killed him !" in a way that was
terrible to hear.
The professor looked at the dootor.
He slipped book and opened the doer,
and out ran a little Blender figure, that
knelt down by Tom, and whispered ;
" Don't go on so, Tom; I'm aUve."
Tom lifted up his head, and saw little
Jaok Bedburn, and gave a scream, and
oanght him in his arms, crying :
" Oh, he's alive ! he's alive 1 he's
alive I" over and over again. ~
" YeB, he's alive," said the professor ;
" and, Tom, your telegram was never
sent at all. I caught Harry Pratt at
his triok and dragged a confession from
him; and I arranged that a message
about nothing should be Bent through
the telegraph, in order that yon might
see it arrive. The dootor was in the
plot, and if any one has been the victim
of a joke, it is you."
" But, young man," said the doctor,
"if it had been sent, that message of
yours, it might have ended in a very
tragic way. It ia evident yon don't
know how strong a boy's love for his I
mother may be, or you would not have I
fanoied it a joke to uao it as a means of
torture ; and yon do not know how dan
geroua such a shook might be to any
one, especially to a delioate little follow
like that"
",It was very cruel," said Jack ; " but
I guess you didn't think, or yon wouldn't
have done it."
Tom had risen, wiping his oyes.
" I am so thankful, that I don't caro
what happens to me," he said, " I de
serve what I've got, and I certainly
shall never play a practical joke on any
one again as long as I live!"
And Tom kopt hin word.
Zouaves.
In my account of tho roviow hold by
Marshal MaoMahon last month I ro
markod on the absence of the Zouaves.
I wasn: t then aware that thero wero no
longer any in France. Since tho war
they have roturned to their original du
ties, whioh were those of colonial
troops. Tho empire inportod them into
Franco as it did the Turcos?those Se
poys of Algeria. When these corps
wero introduced .into tho imperial
guard it became necessary to have re
serves to koep np their strongth, and bo
lino regiments of Zouaves wore brought
into French garrisons to serve as a nur
Bory for the Zouaves of tho guard. The
late war did a good deal to dissipate
the exaggerated prestige of thoBe semi
oriental troops. As for the Turcos, af
ter Forbaoh and Woerlh they were re
dncod to a handful. Their European
drill and discipline made them formi
dable to the Arabs, und their desperate
valor and ferocity rendered them ugly
opponents even to rogala? soldiers.
But thoir value was greatly diminished
by tho introduction of long-ran^'e rifles.
Exoollent skirmishors, thoir oat-liko
agility aud speed and ft rooious onset
also made them terriblo in a bayonet
attack when, regardless of death, they
charged home to break a lino or square.
But when such charges are to be made
upon troops carryiug rifles that kill at
a thousand yards, and ilro six times in
a minute, tho chief utility of tho half
savago Turcos waa gono. It wos un
likely that either he or tho Zouaves will
again bo soon figuring in a European
war.?Paris Letter.
?"Soo," said a sorrowing wife, " how
peaceful the oat and dog are." " Yes,"
said tho petulant husband, "but just
tio them together and then see how tho
fur will fly."_
?A Pennsylvania baby is said to have
inherited the eyos and noso of his
father but tho cheek of his undo, who
is an insurance agent.
NOTES OITENOLAND.
Kncy American Oritla.no on KnglUh
HI mm era". ,?: tJ.;
Kate Field writes in her " Bepubli
ean notes on England"' in the St. Louis
! Bepnblican " Now it is perfectly
I true that many Americans are exceed
ingly careless in their speech. They
do talk through their noBes; but it is
also ??5 that this dtesdul habit is an
English inheritance and not a matter of
climate. The native American's voice
is guttural. It was our pilgrim
fathers who brought over the wnihe
known in England as 'Suffolk sing
ing,' which to-day,, though banished
from London salons, may do heard in
the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex,
and Cambridge.1 If our ancestors who
named Massachusetts counties after
their old homes had good ears for mu
sio they would have left their noses be
hind them, and their descendants would
not now bo twanging through lifo to the
disgust of England's aristocracy. Now
nasality Ins so permeated the atmos
Shero of New England that its people
o not realize the affront they put upon
their own vocal organs. Yet in spite of
hereditary taint, the most musical Eng
lish in the world is spoken by cultivated
Bostoninns. This fact upsets the theory
of climate ; so too does the other fact
that New England produces a similarly
rich contralto singing voice of which
that consummate artist Adelaide Phil
lips, her sister Matilda Phillips, who
is now winning laurels in Italy, Annie
Louise Gary, and Antoinette Sterling
are ever notable examples. Tho Puri
tans are not alone to blame for tho de?
foots in our speech. Tho negro has
been our bane in more than one res
peot, and southerners drawl and flatten
their vowels because their sable nurses
did so before them. Nevertheless, the
onltured southern planter will often
speak English without the slightest ac
cent. Paritan and negro have spread
over the continent their vocal peculiar
ities, and until. parents appreciate that
most excellent thing in man or woman,
a sonorous voice, and rear their children
carefully, Americano will suffer under
tho imputation of being the worst
toned people.
I was first startled by the absence of
what can only be expressed by the
French word complaisance. American
politeness is more nearly modelled upon
French than English manner. . The aim
of an American in decent society is to
give as little offence as possible, to say
pleasant things even at the expense of
unvarnished truth, and to place himself,
as well as those with whom he converses,
in the most agreeable light. The. typi
cal Englishman indulges in no nuoh sen
timentality. There is much more of the
brute about him. He makes no effort
to please, but if you please him he will
bask in that pleasure as a lizard basks
in sunshine, and once your friend can
be relied upon. He delights in ohaff.
American society had rather tell a pleas
ant .lie than an unpleasant truth. In
England the natural and universal im
pulse?with exceptions, bo it under
stood?is to say whatever comes upper
most, especially if it be something dis
agreeable. Yet the expression is so
unoonsoions as to leave no poison in the
sting. The greatest grievance English
society nurses against us is what it calls
Americanisms. That forty millions of
people should dare to invent words fills
John Ball with unspeakable horror.
Our audacity in thus defiling the well
of English is only equalled by our vul
garity of tone, all Americans, according
to John Ball, speaking with a nasal
twang. "Yes, all Americans, you ex
cepted," exolaimed a very clever and
big hearted Englishman ono evening
while entertaining me at his own table,
" all Americans have a dreadful twang.
They all talk through their noses."
This gentleman had a very decided nasal
tone. " Perfectly true," chimed in ono
after another, all good-naturedly, but
all in earnest.
One generation oan undo tho evil of
250 years. As for knowing anything
about us, apart from our always being
rioh and always talking through our
noses, of course tho majority of the
English upper classes do not; and when
it comes to geography 1 "Know any
thing of American googrnphy 1 of course
wo don't," exolaimod a brilliant mem
ber of the commons. "Why is it not
rooorded that in the last war between
England and Amorioa our government
sent out water lor our fleets iu the
great lakes, in complete ignorance of
the fact that the water of these lakes
isfrrish? Apart from the few English
men who have traveled in your country,
j I assure yon that onr knowledge is con
fined to a faint peroaption of tue exist
ence of Now York and Boston. But
then we are not too well studied in any
geography. I'll wager that beforo tho
war with BusBia few Englishman know
whoro tho Crimea was. Is not this a
safe wnger, Lady Blank ? "
" I am Biiro it is," j eplied onr hostess;
" r-von now / don't know whoro it is."
"Not long iiice I oalled en the Duke
of Argylo, the secretary lor India,"
snid a distinguised Indian to mo. " Tho
dnke*bears himself with graoious dig
nity and reoeived me most courteously.
There wan a map of India hanging up
in tho room to which tho duko turnod,
and, pointing to a large desert, asked
me what bos it wan! This, from the
Indian seorotary, struck mo as amaz
ing." I should think so. But though
tho English know not one state from
another, though I have been asked
whother there wore not many Indians
in tho vioinity of Boston, though an in
telligent travelor like Edmund Dicey
doolnros that wo have no singing birds,
that all Americans have long neoks ana
no Americans havo ourly hair, thero is
ono oitv on this continent with whioh
ovdry Englishman ia familiar, and that
is Chioago. Tho great Are advertised
Chicago on tho banks of the Ganges,
and gave it a European prestige that'too
other Amorioan city nan rival, 'unless
it suoooeds in being totally destroyed
by sprue devouring element.
Actors and Auditors.
A singular nkaso of the" theatrical 'ex
istence is the passionate 'fondness
evinced by: rnembexs qf; that calling,,for
attending. entortaihmonts thomselves.
Apostles of most olhor* prof?Bsitfns a'ffd
traden gl adly sink the, ahop when they;
are fairly out of it. Tho lawyer off duty
does not ireq?ent tho courts. Tho ed
itor is not continually hanging around
other ofHoes, when not confined .iu bja;
own. Doctors do not rest themselves
by visiting tho pationts of other doctors.'
But tho aotor or actress, of high or, low
degree, when not directly busied on, the
glaring side of tho footlights, is euro'to''
be found in the auditorium. Tho mo;;t
persistent theatre-goers iu tho world/Ore,
theatrical people. ' ' >
Mrs. Chanfrau reached Chicago one
afternoon last (week.. She bad traveled
straight, through from Now Yprk^> and,,
after a twenty-four hours' rest, ' was to
push on to San Francisco. B?t she. was
one of MoVickcr's audience that night,
and sat tho play through. Her business
manager passed ail of tho same evening
at the Academy. Mr. and Mrs. Edwin
Adams arrived in that oity threo or four
days before that gentleman's engage^
inent was to begin. They attended the'
theatres every,night and matinee, and
wero among the most eager and atten
tive of the spectators.
It is so always, everywhere. The Wife i
of a theatrical manager may.be seen in
the audience night after night, month
in and month out. A shoemaker's wife
docs not foliow her liege' ? to his shop
every, day.! Clergymen'* wives are not
regular companions of their husbands
on pastoral calls?it might bo prudonfc
if they were. The actor of a regular
company, when not oast for duty, can
invariably be Been in the - front of i the
house or that of a rival establishment.
And the puzzle of it all is, they grow as
excited, often, over the fortunes- of the
players as.the greenest of the auditors.
They guffaw with the comedian, scowl
with tho villain, and rub away a sheep
ish tear or two at the. woes- of.the dis
tracted maiden. One would think that
the work on the stage would seem the
dreariest of routine to thorn, but it
does not, else are they better actors
when loosing at a play than when per
forming in it.
Notablo performers never lose an op
portunity of witnessing their great co
temporaries. Booth is a frequent vis
itor to tho theatre when Fe cht er and
Adams play. Mrs. Bowers chases after
Charlotte Gashman every chance she
can get. Salvini was an earnest student
of Booth's Ingo in Baltimore, and ap
plauded unstintedly. Indeed, the
most lavish, as well as tho most dis
criminating of applause comes from
professional actors and actresses in the
audience. The numbskulls who are
always rattling their brogans and per
cussing their paws inopportunely, are
never members of the dramatic or oper
atic calling. You do not hear actors haw
haw when Joo Jefferson, in plaintive
broken English, wonders if dero is
anybody alive round here ?" Clara
lionise Kellogg waits until her sister
song-bird Jhas finished her aria before
breaking in with applause.
This love of attending plaoes of
amusement, on the part of amusement
people, is one of the best proofs of the
?ermanent attraotiveness of the stage.
!hey never tire of a seat in the and i - j
ence, fully as tliey understand the un
reality of ail that is enaoting on the
boards. How, then, oan the casual
theatre-frequenters ever weary of the
entertainments which, to them, have so
much of voritability ? Critics may af
fect blase, and wonder at tho verdancy
whioh can eternally accept tho crude
sham as real. But what are they going
to do with the life-long disciples of the
calling, who make as enthusiastic spec
tators as the rawost bumpkin in tho
audience?
The Beal Chinaman.
Brot Harte, in describing a Chinaman
in a skotoh in Soribuor's, says : " I want
the average reader to disohargo from his
mind any idea of a Chinaman that he
may have gathered from the pantomime.
Ho did not wear beantifui'v soollopod
drawers fringed with little bells?I never
met a Chinaman who did ; he did not
i habitually carry his forefinger extended
before him at right angles with his
body, nor did I over hear him utter the
mysterious sentence, 'Ohing a ring a
ring chaw.' nor dance under any provo
cation. Ho was, on the whole, a rather
gravo, decorous, handsome gentleman.
His complexion, which extended all
over his head, oxoept whero his long
pig-tail grow, was like a very niue pieoe
of glazod brown paper muslin. His
eyes were bbok and bright and his oye
lids set at an angle of forty-live degrees;
his nose straight and delioately formed ;
his mouth small aud his teeth white and
clean. Ho woro a dark blno silk blouse,
and iu the streets, on oold days, a short
jacket of astrakhan fur. Ho woro also
a pair of drawers of blue brooado gath
ered tightly ovor his calves and ankles, 1
offering a genoral sort of suggest ion that
ho had forgotten his tronsors that morn
ing, bnt that, bo gentlemanly wore bis
manners, his friends had forborne to
mention the fact to him. His manner
was urbane, although qnito Berions. He
spoko Frenoh and English fluently. Iu
briof, I doubt if you could have found
tho equal of this pagan shopkeeper
among tho Christian tradors of San
Frf?noi?oo."_
?A Franoh Boidntist claims to hovo
discovered an inneot whioh makes its
homo in the middle of cigars.
OLD ROBBUM^THE BEAU.
What Col. BpcurltS linotorsi About this lUa
Sorto Individual.
From a Rout horn Paper.
Noticing in the columns of the Sun
Enquirer, a few days ago, an artiolo
from Maj. Calhoun, m which allusion i?
made to Col. W. H. Sparks, of New Or
leans] now in this city, as the author - of
this well known and popular old song.
I called his attention to it. The follow
ing letter is in reply to my inquiry,
Col. Sparks is, perhaps, as well if not
hotter known than any other man of tho
old regime of aristocracy and wealth,
for ??vhich the1 great southwest became
ho famous anterior to the war. He is
itho author of. a highly-interesting book
entitled " Memories of Fifty Years."
The colonel is now over seventy-five
-years of ; age; but still retains his
health, constitutional vigor, and great
mental strength' to a remarkable degree.
He numbered as his personal associates
and companions of the long ago such
gersonages as Danial Webster, Calhoun,
fen. Jackson, John Bell, Slidell, ana
most, of the. statesmen of note who
flourished in those times. In conversa
tional powers the colonel is unsurpassed,
and his familiarity and acquaintance
with.all the prominent men and public
incidents of a half century baok make
his Society! really charming. . Ho, to
gether with his excellent and talented
lady,,have been spending the summer
at the Kimball' House, and the two have
been the center of great attraction for
the nnmbor of intelligent guests who
daily throng ita parlors.' But I give
you Ool. Sparks' own word?, together
with the original " Eos sum the Beau :"
Atoakta, Ga., Aug. 21,1874.
Mb. W. H. Moobb : My Dear Sir?
I am obliged to you for the little para
graph from the Columbus paper as
cribing to mo the authorship of this
song, once so popular throughout the
country.
It is very true, I wrote the lines I
send you, and they are the first that
were ever sung to the air which became
famous.
I will give yon a brief history of. tho
writing, snd of the man who inspired
them. When I first went to the "west,'
in 182(5,1 was some time in selecting a
domioilo. j. Why?it is not necessary for
me to state, as. the reason and causes
?for delay will form a theme for a chap
tor in the second volume of the " Mem
ories of Fifty Years."
Finally I looated in Mississippi and
commenced the practice of law. It was
in 1 he midst of the noblest-race of peo
ple I have ever known. Amongst these
were two equally remarkable* but very
unlike. One was a schoolmaster who
was quite old, and who had been teach
ing in that, neighborhood over forty
years. His name was James Bossnm.
He was peculiar in his habits. On
Monday morning, neatly dressed and
cleanly shaven, he went to his duties in
the old school-house, where two-thirds
of his life had been spent, and assidu
ously devoted himself to the duties of
his vocation until Friday evening. On
Saturday morning he arrayed himself
in his best, and devoted the day in vis
iting the ladies of the neighborhood.
He was a welcome guest at every house.
This habit had continued so long that
ho had acquired the sobriquet of
" Bossnm, the Beau." The other's name
was Oox, who was a rollicking good fel
low, and the best vocalist I ever knew.
Ho was in Bong what Prentiss was in
oratory, and they were boon compan
ions. Both died young.
Oox waa frequently at my offloe, and
upon one occasion while he was there
Bossnm walked by tho door, and his
age was apparent in his walk. Cox
looked at him. and after a pause turned
to mo and remarked in quite a feeling
tone, which ho could assume at pleas
ure, and its eloquence was indescrib
able : " Poor old Bossnm 1 some of these
sunny mornings he will be found "dead,
whon he shall have a noble funeral,
and all the ladies will honor it with be
ing present, I know."
Soon after he left the office, and be
ing in the humor I seized the ideaa and
wrote tho following doggerel lines.
Soon after Oox returned, and I handed
them to him. He got up, walked and
hummed different airs, until he fell
upon the old Methodist hymn tune, in
whioh they have ever since been sung.
I have always considered Oox more
entitled to the authorshp of the song
than myself.
Hundreds of lines have been written
to the air, by as many persons, and
almost as many have claimed the au
thorship of the lines; but thin is of no
moment. I claim no merit for my lines,
but everything for Oox's singing them.
I have seen him draw tears from tho
eyes of the old and the young:
Now, noon, on aomo soft, sunny morning,
Tho first thing my neighbors nhall know,
Their oars bIi&U bo mot with tho warning?
Gomo bury old Roaaum, tho bean.
Mv frionda then so neatly Bhall droas me
In linen as white as the enow ?
And in my now coffin Bhall proas mo,
And whiflper: Poor Roaaum, tho beau.
And whon I'm to bo hnriod, I reckon,
Tim Indien will all like to go;
Lot them form at tho foot of my coffin,
And follow old Roaanm, the beau.
Thon take yon a dozon good followa,
And lot them all staggering go;
And dig a deep holo in the meadow,
And in it 1ess Rosbutu, the bean.
Thon ahapo out a oonpla of dorniokn,
Pisco one at the head and tho toe;
And do not fail to ?cratoh on it?
Horo liea old Rosaum, tho beau.
Then take you thoao dozen good followa,
And stand them all round in a row;
And drink out of a big-bellied bottle,
Farowoll to old Rosaum. tho boau.
, W. H. SPARKS.
?A Now York dootor figures it out
that an averago woman will shed a bar
rel ofitearfl^in forty years,
FACTS AND FANCIES., tun I t
?The wicked flea, " It ain't bo much1H
?Of a mi?erly man who died 'of 'Abfte'^l
eningof the brain, a local, paper said:,;x
"His head gave way, but his *
never did. His brain softened, buplr
his heart oouldn't." > ml ?.? vinx?i<
?"Can yon do the landlord in tho
'Lady of Lyons?'" said a manager, t?
a seodly actor. "I should think I
might," was the answer, "I have dob**'
a great many landlords." , nfvrTi
?Boys w?l be boys. At Altor^[ia.nn
a proaoher asked all . 8 unnay school
scholars to stand up who intended W>v
visit the wicked, soul-destroying !OU*nn
ons. All but a lamo girl, stood, up. t_>Wi3|
?An enterprising ? reporter in Arkan
sas, who was lately sentenced W'tnfiJ*
state prison for horse stealing,' applied t?
to his employers to bo continued on tho
journal as penitentiary correspondent. ?
?Tho Detroit Free Press j?a?"!,^71
just returned from Saratoga. He ssyafcjn
" The Saratoga belles merely taste food.^
at the table, but fee the waiters to
bring a square meal up the' back
stairs." * fUrfa u
?A " three-card monte" expert is, re?;f|
ported to havo. offered the directors of
tho Union Pacific railroad a bonus JoT"
$10,000 per annum for. the exclusive
right to play his little game in. their? ?
sleeping cars. - V . 1 J
?Little Johnnie is dead; but botoro'
his spirit was waited to tho angels bo
requested that n watermelon vino might
be allowed to wander at will, over'his'
green grave, that it might be a warning
to future generations. ?'<?? itu
?" Pa, who is ? Many Voters ? " asked,.
a young hopeful of his siris. "Don't '
know him, (my son; Why?" '"'Cos'!**'
saw you Bignin' his name tothat 1 ottor , [
yon got the other night askin' you to
run for alderman." "Sh-h-h, my Borira"
here's a nickel; go and got Gomo candy."
?A Miss Bulkstraw, of St. Oswald's
This is the sort Of thing Josoph used to; .
send her during his five years' court
ship:. ? 1 ?"'?? ?
" I ask not if the world untold
A falrer f orm than tbino,
TrosRca mpro ridb. in glowing gold,
Andeyeaof a sweeter ahlne. '
It ia enough for me to know . / .,<.
Thou, too, art fair to eight: , , .
That thou host looks of golden glow,-' ,,n3**i
And eyea of playful light."
?A Kentucky crusader confessed tho >
other day that she had kissed sixteen
men, and thus drawn them from the in
toxicating bowl. She gave the names -
of the men, howover, and their wiven
are now inquiring with much anxiety
whether whisky drinking is as bad as it
is generally supposed to be.
?The pounding of the stomach for
the cure of dyspepsia was the cause of
a good joke the other day. Two men [
were describing what they had'done to i
cure themselves. " Do you knead your
stomach ?" " I?I?oouldn't get along
without it 1" responded the other, in
the lost stage of astonishment.
?In one of the Cape towns a young
scholar, the first day of school, was
asked her name by the teacher, and re
plied. Her father's name was the next -.
question, and she did not know his first
name. The teacher then asked her,
"What does your mother call him?"
"Yon Jackass," said the child.
?A miss, upon whose flaxen curls
the suns of fourteen snmmors had shed
their fervor, came home the other after
noon, weeping as if her heart would ?
break, and meeting a playmate, ex
claimed, in a paroxysm of grief, " O,
Dora, we were engaged to be married,
and Charley's got the measles 1"
?A lady sitting in her parlor, and en- .
gaged in the dreamy contemplation of
the moustache of the young gentleman
who was to escort her and her sister to
a musical festival, was suddenly awak
ened by an ominous whisper in a juven
ile voice at the door, "You've got
Ann's teeth, and she wants 'em." iY qw
?The cash sales of the grange co-op
erative store at Los Angeles, Gal., .
amounted to over $10,000 the first
month. They act as middlemen for all
farmers, both buying and selling. A
new paper mill is to be started, tho cap
ital to be furnished by the Grangers,
and the water power donated by the
oity.
?A gentleman of Lake George, after
waving his handkorchief for half an
hour or more at an unknown lady,
whom he discovered at a distant point
on the shore, was encouraged by a
warm response to bin signals to ap
proach his charmer.. Imagine his feel
ings, when on drawing nearer he saw
that it was his own dear wife whom he
had left at tho hotel but a short time
before. " Why, how remarkable wo
should have recognized each other at
suoh a distance?" exolaimed both in the
same breath; and then they changed
the subject.
?Bev. Dr. Onyler writes: Soy what
we may of the rapid growth of our
American towns, the monster strides of
the British metropolis always over-;
whelm mo. London now contains 3,
600,000 people I It almost equals Paris,
New York and Brooklyn combined into
one. Yon can drive fifteen miles on
one of its diameters. When, in my col
lcge-b\>y days, I once went out to pay
my respects to Joanna Baillio, the emi
nont authoress, who lived near Hamp
stead Hill, I walked dear out of town
and over open- fields. I am now stay
ing at the hospitable Iiospg of our
friend, the Bev. Newman Hall, who
resides on the same Hampstead Hill,
in the mid?t|of compactly-built street.".
