The Copiahan. [volume], October 02, 1875, Image 1

About The Copiahan. [volume] (Hazlehurst, Miss.) 1869-1876

Image provided by: Mississippi Department of Archives and History

                
* h in t
W» nr
l -nh U
MV- ->J* itf .
• IJ*' »•'/* ■
|VOL XL ’ I”7"—HAZLKHUI fe&iJIMs
1.. flat* ' -i
®hc Yi’cclilir Copiahatt
Bi VAXHIi & MASSRNOIBL.
Terms; - The Copiuhmt is pub
lished every Saturday, at $.‘J per
annum, in advance; two or more,,
copies each $2 50.
Advertisements published at $1
per square (tea lines or less) for
first insertion, and 50 cents each
additional insertion.
Liberal arrangements made with
yearly advertisers. All bills due
on presentation.
THE STOLEN CURL.
Upon the shores of Lake
Pontelmrtrnin and on the
southern bolder of the State
of Mississippi, a low row of
elegant villas, a group of
warehouses, and here and
there a public building or pri
vate institution, form the love
ly and quiet town of Pass
Christian, noted for ilsbalmv
•
climate, the beauty of its sit
uation, its handsome residen
ces, and the wealth and re
finement of its citizens.
To the young ladies’ acad
emies and military institu
tions of Pass Christian, 111.1-!
liy of the wealthy planters
were wont to send their sons
and daughters to be educated
and as the pupils of the re
spective institutions would
meet, i:i their daily prome
nades many admiring glances
would he exchanged between
them, and longings felt to be
come acquainted.
Among these fair pupils of
tlie Lake Academy none were
more beautiful than Rosa
Vernor, the sole heiress to
all her doling father’s cotton
estates, situated upon the
Mississippi river. A shower j
of golden curls fell upon her
shoulders. Blue, dreamy
eyes, a bright smiling lace,
and a graceful form added to
a disposition of truest wo
manly sweetness, made the
young girl of fifteen partic
ularly attractive to all who
knew her.
Many a handsome cadet
from the military academy
had fallen in love with the
bewitching beauty at the first
glance from heaven-lit eyes;
but to none did she show a
preference, when meeting at
the soirees and the receptions
given by the different schools.
One of Rosa’s greatest,
though silent admirers, was
Edward Griffith, the son of
a Mississippi planter, whose
estate lay adjoining that of
Mr. Vernor, hut between Mr
Vernor and Col. Griffith
there existed great , itterness
and for years the families
had not spoken, though meet
ing constantly in social in
tercourse at the neighboring.
plantations.
Ihe lead commenced long
years before, when Mr. Yer-j
nor and Col. Griffith were ri
vals for the. hand of Ed
ward's mother. Col. Griffith
had won her heart and hand,
and married her; and his
success so enraged Mr. Yer
nor that he challenged his
successful rival; a duel fol
lowed, and in this encounter
Colonel Griffith same off vie
torious, severely wounding
his adversary.
Since that day neither had
spoken to the other, and all
interchange of friendly7 in
tercourse between, even the
negroes of the plantation was
forbidden.
Meeting once at Pass
Christian, though Rosa could
not but see that Edward Grif
fi‘h admired her, and he felt
that she was not indifferent
to his gaze, both were govern
cd by the remembrance of
the feud existing between
their parents, and gave no
signs of the recognition of
the other’s feelings.
Toward the close of a love
ly summer’s day, in the year
that this story7 opens, the
fair pupils of the Lake In
stitute had gone down the
long pier leading out into
the lake, to the bathing house
of the institution. Soon a
merry party of damsels were
splashing about in the water,
riding the breakers, and cha
sing each other about in glee.
It was a pretty sight, dress
ed as they were in their va
rious colored bathing suits;
and a handsome youth of
twenty-one, clad in the sty
lish uniform of the Pass
Christian Military Academy,
paused and gazed upon the
'"lovely scene.
Suddenly a shriek was
heard, and a dark form was
borne away by the tide, out
of the reach of aid from her
companions. With the speed
of a deer the young cadet
Vpad down the long pier, reach
<>d the bath house, and re
gardless of-t he cries of the
frightened girls, bounded
headlong into the water.—
Vigorously did he breast the
waves, soon overtook the
lair girl, who was nobly strug
gling to sustain herself above
the waters for she was a fair
swimmer.
Soon he came nearer; and
seeing that help was at hand
her courage forsook her, and
she sank beneath the waters,
while shrieks of distress from
the shore showed her that
her companions believed her
forever lost. With a deep
dive the youth succeeded in
catching hold of the drown
ing girl, and with renewed
strength started shoreward.
liravclv did he struggle,
and at, last he felt that he
would reach the bath house.
Two of the professors of the
Institute, alarmed at the
cries of distress, had run
down to the scene, and swim
ming out a few yards, had
relieved the tired youth of
his precious burden.
Without a word, the young
[man turned away, and, to
the surprise of all, commenc
ed to swim down the coast.
In vain did they call to him
fiom the shore; on ho swam,
and night coming rapidly on
j he. was no longer visible.
After continuing slowly,
! and with strong and steady
strokes down the coast, the
cadet swam towards a pier
that projected some distance
into the lake, and drew him
self greatly fatigued from
the water. Looking around
him to see that ho was not
watc hed, he walked rapidly
up the pier, and struck across
the field for the Academy.
Arriving there he sought his
room, and reached it unper
ceived, where be hastily
changed his clothing.
Before descending to the
study hall to join his fellow
students, he drew from the
pocket of his saturated jack
et he had just thrown aside,
a long, golden curl, dampen
ed by the water.
‘1 could not resist the temp
tation to sever this beaulilnl
curl from its golden mates;
she tvill miss it, and yet she
will never know who it was
that saved her life.’
And carefully drying the
tress of hair, the cadet plac
ed it securely away.
A great excitement was
created at Pass Christian by
the saving from a watery
grave the beautiful Rose Ver
nor, and of the strange con
duct, of her noble preserver,
w hoever he might ue for it
was impossible to discover
his name, and all that could
he ascertained was, that he
was a cadet from the milita
ry academy. This much the
yonng girls noticed as lie
sprang from the pier; and
Rosa having become uncon
scious could not describe his
teatures.
The missing curl was com
mented upon, and the faces
of all the cadets were eager
ly scanned by the pupils of
the Lake Institute, and the
citizens who evinced a deep
interest in the mysterious af
fair; hut still an expression
of innocence rested upon ev
ery student’s face and gave
no clue.
Mr. Vernor came to the
Pass, and in vain did he vis
it the Academy and endeav
or to find out the brave youth
who had rescued his daugh
ter from death; it was useless,
and after a time it was tlm’t
over as .a thing of the past.
Three years have passed
since the incidents mention
ed ub<*ve, and from the shores
of the sunny gulf the scene
changes to the banks of the
Mississippi river.
Hiding slowly along the
road are fivo persons, a lady
and a gentleman on horse
back. Earnestly they are
conversing together; and’the
maiden draws rein, and rests
her gloved hand upon her
companion’s arm.
‘Edward, hers you must
leave me, and forever. It is
hard to give you up but my
father' will never forgive me
and forget the past not even
for ill v sake deai lv as he loves
• *
me. I cannot again meet
you. This myrning he dig
covered our secret interviews
and forbade mo ever to see
you; and upon your return
borne you will find a bitter
letter from him demanding
try letters. You know how
dearly I love, yet you know
we must part. Good-bye,
Edward, and that heaven
may protect yon will ever be
my prayer.’
And bright diamond tears
rolled down the beautiful
face of Rosa Vei nor, and fell
upon the roadside.
‘I will not urge you to dis
obey your father, Rosa. I
have ever loved you since a
little girl, I used to see you
dashing about on your little
pony. When at the Pass at
school,! loved you more dear
ly; and how I blessed the
kind fate that throw us to
gether, untrammeled by the
presence of our parents, when
you came up the rivet a year
ago on board the steamer.—
Then 1 felt that you control
led my life's happiness, and
dearly have 1 enjoyed our st o
len interviews. Now all is
over, and we must part. I
will do as youY farlier asks
me in his letter—return all
you have sent me. Rosa, my
own darling, good bye.’
Inns the lovers parted;
and while Rosa returned to
her fa tiler’s plantation, a mile
down the river, Edward Grif
fith leaped his horse into a
cotton field that bordered the
river bank, and darted away
in the direction of his own
home, for death had lain his
father in the grave and he
was master and owner of the
large estate. '
Arriving at his own door,!
a negro messenger from the!
Vernor plantation awaited
his arrival, and presented
him with a letter. Entering
his library, be broke the seal
and bis brow darkened as he
read the contents.
‘Pur her sake 1 will for
bear, and for her sake I will
return her letters, every lit
tle memento of her love, ves
all!’
A few minutes after, the
ebony messenger rode away
bearing in bis bands a small
package addressed to ‘Wil
liam Vernor, Esq., Sunny
Side Plantation.
Mr. Vernor waspacingthe
broad verandah that encir
cled bis residence. A stern,
haughty man, his brow was
darkly clouded, and liis eyes
wore an angry expression, as
ever and amm be glanced
down 'he avenue as if in ex
peetanev.
‘Ha! at last! L hope lie has
not dared to refuse my de
mand; if so—’
And he grasped the pack
age held out to him by the
negro boy.
Breaking the seal, be glan
ced over the contents. The
frown darkened, then bis
face suddenly paled. The
letters and love trinkets fell
to the floor, as be exclaimed:
‘What does this meant’
In bis hand he held a silken
curl, flashing like golden
strands in the light of the
setting sun.
Upon toe card attached he
read:
‘Rescued from the waves,
Pass Christian, June 15, ’50.’
One moment lie glanced at
the card, his face changing
with the emotions that swept
over him, and risen he called
out to the retreating messen
ger, Robert, come here.’
The negro again advanced
‘Mount your horse and re
turn at once to Griffith Ma
nor. Present my best wish
es to Mr. Griffith, and say
that I request the pleasure
of seeing him immediately
at Sunny Side Plantation.’
_x«s, sir.
And while the messenger
started away at full speed,
Mr..Vernor continued his
walk up and down the ve
randah.
An hour had not passed
when Edward Griffith rode
up to the door, dismounted,
and ascended the broad steps
wearing upon his face a puz
zled expression at his strange
and unexpected summons to
Sunny Side.
Advancing towards him,
Mr. Vernor extended his
>•:, • ■ i ■■ < 't
hand, while ho said in a firm
voice, Edward Griffith, I nev
er believed that voi^ or one
of your race, would ever be
invited across mv threshold.
Your package sent me this
evening, told me whom it
was that saved my daughter’s
life three years ago; hence I
bury the hatchet, and offer
my hand. You are a noble
young man, and 1 believe you
will accept it.’
Thus the feud was settled,
all animosities buried, and
tho two families united by
the strongest tics. For Ed
ward and Rosa were married
soon after, and all this hap
piness came about through
the romance of ‘The Stolen
Curl.’
CAPITAL AND LABOR.
• —
The following extract- from
an address recently delivered
in North Carolina beYore a
council of Patrons of Hus
bandry by ex-Oov. Zeb. B.
Vance, is full of plain com
mon sense and practical and
usotul suggestions upon the
subject- of capital and labor,
to workers in any department
of life:
Brain manure is our great
want; education for young
and old especially in matters
pertaining toagriculture. We
don’t so much need laborers
as a proper utilization of that
we have. Instead of etoaking
so much at the nogroes, we
should work alitilo more our
selves. At every depot and
cross-roads in the State yum
may see any day crowds of
idlers standing around loose,
whittling sticks and spitting
at a mark, abusing the negro
as a laborer, lamenting the
scarcity of money,and hoping
for that issue of $44,000,000
of reserve lately discussed in
Congress and cussed else
where. There is really no
ground far despondency any
where. Notwithstanding our j
great losses by war, substan
tially all that we had before is
here. Our mother earth is
here, and our titles to it arc
undisturbed; the early and
latter rains stiil Till accord
ing to the promise,and the ge
nial sunshine still warnisand
fructifies as of old, whilst the
goodness of God still bestows
the increase. The strength
and courage of our people are
still with them; and though
alas! many of our bravest and
best are not here, yet all the
glorious recollections of our
history remain to cheer and
bless ns. And the negro, too,
is here, as good or better than
lie was before if we knowhow
to work him. Don’t despair
of finding a way to do that.
You say he won’t work un
less lie is compelled—very
well, neither will white men.
But compulsion is of differ
ent sorts. Formerly you com
pelled him by virtue of being
Ids master—now, compel him
to work by force of bis neces
sities. Show him that you
can live without him,put your
owi) hand to the plough and
say to him, if you will help,
well; if not, well again; en
force the laws against vaga
bondage, and he will gladh
work when lie can do no bet
ter. At present he thinks he
can make a living by voting,
but be will come out of that
in due season. On the whole,
L am inclined to think ho is
the best laborer we are likely
to get in the South; as lie is
the best tool we have with
which to cultivate the soil,let
us sharpen and improve him
in every possible way. And
for this great Anglo Saxon
people, whose blood lias filled {
the earth with the most be
ui Scent .md utilitarian civile
i/at ion it has ever witnessed,
and strewed the shores of its
oceans with mighty cities,
reticulated its surface with'
steam roads, covered the wild
seas with the white wings of
commerce, and even luvaded •
their unknown depths with
the iron-shod pathways of the|
lightning,for these men toac
kuowledge that the wheels of
their progress are stopped be
cause the negroes won’t work
and keep contracts, is a sorry
spectacle indeed! Shamt to
us, if it be so!
Ay|l m to capital,the want
of w hich makes us complain
so loudly—are wo really suf
fering for that? I say not.
We arc suffering from a want
of capacity to nse what we
have, rather. What relief
would a fresh issueof govern
ment currency do us, unless
we had the equivalent to give
for it? Suppose that forty
four ,millions were given to >
us, l ow long would we keep
it, if o«f consumption annn-i
ally i%\ coded our sajes us far |
as ifr uoes now! lake wa'er
seeking ittfev;el it w<Vtdanon
ljn*%s vlh* to those who had
a surplus to give for it. What
is the use of a idlefellow loun
ging around with hishandsin \
liis pockets, without a thing |
in the world to sell, but who
buys his very axe bandies and
Ins cabbage troui the .North,
abusing Eastern capitalists!
for grabbing all thecurreney?!
Let him raise a bale of col ton
and see if he don’t ltd) that!
Yankee of some of l'is ill
gotten gains'? Let him grow ;
his own pork, flour, corn,and
hav, and see if that bloated
bondholder don’t have to shell i
out? To give you some idea
» ~ i
of our condition as toeapital,
I would refer vou to two or ,
»
three points in our State. In i
Charlotte, which is the big
gest town of its si/e in tlie 1
United States, wc have five I
chartered banks, wilh a capi- i
tal of $8 .0,000. Thi*:r depos- |
its will exceed $1,500,000, on
which (hey pay 0 percent—
total,$2,350,00. Kaleigh has,
1 learn, over $000,000, on
deposit,and Wilmington some :
$800,000, and (heir hanking j
capital is about half their de-j
posits, total bank capital in 3
towns, about $1,550,000; de
posits $2,000,000. Now,seven
timiins oT ruose ucpos.ts ue-1
long to farmers—such men |
is you, down on middle men,
and clamorous for more cap- |
it‘l \V1 Jilt do they do with ;
id Will they lend to their
neighbors who are in straits
and haven’t got well oil their
feet since the war, and secure ;
it by a mortgage at (j, 8 or 10 j
per rend Not one m ten.—
Von haven’t confidence in |
your neighbor, though lit
mortgages bis turn!; but you
put in one of these banks on
long call at 0 per cent, and
your neighbors go to the bank
and borrow it at 18 per cent,
to raise the wind for the next
cron. Or he goes to a com
mission merchant and buys
his supplies on a credit, at a
cost, of over 50 per cent over
cash prices, and mortgages
his crop in advance to pay for
them; and when the mort
gage is foreclosed, your crop
gone, no supplies on hand,
and the same process to be
gone over again the next year,
you say,its wantof mere cap
ital. O my brother, take no
offence, 1 pray you, at the
wounds of a friend, when I
say it is a want of common
sense and common charity to
ward each other. Make your
own supplies, and you will
not have to borrow so much
money. If you have any to
ban, let your neighbor have
it, unless you had rather see
the banker speculate on your
money than him. Nobody
blames the hanker or the
eomimssi’n merchant. If they
can run a machine on your
money, who should abuse
them for it? Not I, for one.
Use your capital wisely
before you clamor for more.
Pour your surplus cash on
your farms, or into manufac
turing, instead of the banks,
and you will knock out a
middle man every lick.
Nothing is so discouraging
to a young lawyer just as be
waxes eloquent about angel’s
tears, weeping willows and
tombstones,as to be interrup
ted by the cold-blooded jus
tice with ‘You’re offyour nest
hub; this is a case of hog
stealing.’
A'Missouri man tried to
ride a mule across a creek 30
feet deep. The ‘man was
drowued, but the mule cross
ed in safety walking on the
bottom and breathed through
his earz.—Montaur Am.
Oik a medicated tyruj Vis good
retake. Harrison, Flowers & Co. |
TUB SICK ROOM.
Don’t whisper in the sick
room.
When the doctor comes to
see you,remember bow many
pairs of stairs be has to climb
every day, and go down to
him if von are well enough.
When you are sitting upat
night with a patient, be sure
to have something to eat, if
you $ish to save yourself un
necessary exhaustion.
Remember that sick people
are Uot necessarily idiotic or
imbecile,and that it is not al
ways wise to persuade them
their sufferings are imagina
ry. They may even at times
know best what they need.
Never deceive a dying per
son unless by the doctor’s ex
press orders. It is not only
wrong to allow anv soul to go
into eternity without prepa
ration, hnt how can you tell
but that lie lias something he
ought to tell or do before lie
goes away?
Don t have needless con
versations with the doctor out
side of the sick room. Noth
ing will excite and irritate a
nervous patient sooner. If
you do have such conversa
tions, don’t tell the patient
that the doctor said ‘nothing.’
He won't believe you, and lie
will imagine the -worst possi
ble.
In lifting the sick, do not
take them by the shoulders
and drag them up on to the
pillows, but get some one to
help you. Let one stand on
one side of the patient, the
otheropposite,then join hands
under the shoulders and hips,
and lift steadily and prompt
ly together. This method is
easy for those who lift, and
does not disturb the one who
is lifted.
Do not imagine that your
duty is over when you have
mused your patient through
his illness, and he is about
the house, or perhaps going
our •again. Strength does not
i‘ome back in a moment, and
the day* when the little things
worry and little efforts ex
haust, when the cares of bu
siness begin to press, but the
feeble brain and hand refuse
to think and execute, are the
most trying to the sick one,
and then comes the need for
your tendcrestcare,your most
mi obtrusive watchfulness.—
Scribner for September.
FALL OATS.
The Southern Cultivator,
published at Athens, (la, says
September is beyond doubt
the best month in which to
sow oats in all regions where
the thermometer does not
usually descend below 15 de
grees, or where it does reach
25 degrees. Farther south it
may he better to sow later.—
In exceedingly cold winters,
such as those of ’71 and ’72,
the crop might bo damaged,
but. tlris is about the only risk
one has to run,and every crop
has some risk. Corn is often-,
or cut off by drouth than oats
by cold; ot the two we regard
the oat crop as decidedly the
most certain. Each addition
al year’s experience and ob
servation confirms us in our
course of pressing the oat
crop upon the Southern far
mer, as furnishing the best!
and cheapest food for mules
and horses. Sow the same
number of acres in oats that
von plant in cotton. The oat
stubble will furnish land for
cotton well supplied with hu
mus, and the cotton field will!
furnish land for oats wellsup
plied with nitrogen. The only
manuring necessary will be
cotton seed and acid phos
phate tor the cotton crop; no
thing will be required for the
oats. Just aftei picking over!
a cotton field bar off the cot-1
ton, as at its*first working, i
then sow the oats and cover!
with a cultivator,or a harrow
with coulter teeth. It is best
to seed heavily—of the red
rust-proof from 1A to 2 bush
els per acre-^-vveak plants
w ill be killed by cold.
A mother wants to know’!
how to make a boy’s- trows-;
ers las^. The only way we
know of is to make the rest
of the suit first.. ]
DO NOT CRITICISE.
Whatever yon do, never set
up for a ciitic. I dcn’t meah
a newspaper one, but in priv
ate life* in the domestic cir
cle, in society. It will not do
any one any good, and it will
do yon barm—if yon mind
being called disagreeable.
If you don’t like any one’s
nose or object to any one’s
chin, don’t put your feelings
into words. If any one’s man
ners don’t please you remem
ber yonvown. People are not
made to suit one’s taste; re
collect that. Take things as
you find them,unless yoiroan
alter them. Even a dinner
after it is swallowed, can’t be
made any better.
Cont inued fault-finding,con
tinual criticism of the con
duct of this olio, the dress of
the other, and the opinions of
another, will make home the
most unhappy place under
the sun. If you are never
pleased with any one, no one
will ever be pleased with you.
And if it is known you are
bald to suit, few will take
pains to suit you.
ABOUT 11008.
New Orleans Co-Operative
News: Pork will probably be
scarce and high in tbe West,
from all accounts. Notwith
standing tbe large corn crop
of the Northwest, which is
the pork-producing country,
h ogs a re reportcd sea rce t h e re.
The most powerful ring, af
ter the whisky ring, is the
pork ring of the West, and
they are taking advantage of
the reported scarcity of hogs
to purchase all the present
and future pork, so us to sol
idly close the market until
they get their own profits. It
will be afort unate time for the
Southern planter when he
makes himself independent
of the pork ring, and raises
his own -meat. It is easily
done when once it is determ
ined on by any farmer or
planter, but far easier when
a whole nciglTborhood deter
mine on it and go to work in
earnest.
it is a good nine now to
make the commencement,
the Southern tields are tilled
with corn, peas and potatoes.
Let each farmer make up his
mind to procure every hog
he can and fatten it up to be
killed <he first cold spell.
We have had some experi
ence in hog raising in the
South, and we can say, with
out fear of contradiction,that
no country in the world can
equal Louisiana, Mississippi
and some parts of Texas for
hog raising. They produce
with such rapidity as soon to
overstock any place. We
know of a well authenticated
instance in Louisiana of over
300 head having come from
a single sow in one year. The
sow, of an exceedingly prolif
ic breed, littered thirteen pigs
the night after she was pur
chased and carried home, and
elevenof them were sow pigs,
which went to the boar at
four month’s age.
XI. ree months, three weeks
and three days is said to be
the period of gestation of a
sow in Europe. Some breeds
however, are more prolific
than others, and we have had
a breed, much crossed, but
largely partaking of the qua!
ities of the Guinea breed,
which brought forth young
after 101 to 103 days’ gesta
tion, littering each time ton
to fourteen pigs. We lived
Adhere wild cats, black bears
and Cuffee black, Esq., Avere
all very plenty and very fond
of pigs, so avc Avere compel
led to take care of our hogs.
We had them Avatehod all
day by and old,: otherwise
useless, negro, and at night
put into a tight ineiosuro. In
this way a\to lost scarcely any
and found that it paid well
to raise hogs and take care
ot them.
The complaint uoav is that
the “nation’s, wards’’ are too
much given to hog stealing
to permit the Profitable rais
ing of hogs in the cotton
Stales. This may he true, as
hogs are iioaV raised, but no
one should undertake toraise
l.ogs-Avitbout «n inclosed pas
111 .
lure fur them, and li/ivlng;
thevp w itched, counted and .
attended to daily,and bvmigHJ
in and inclosed at night in a
safe place. The easiest metUr
od of securing them at niglit
is to build a strong stockade
of upright stakes set. in the
ground; something /ike those*
the whole country was de$€ed!
with during the waft €hio of
these stockades can be made
ai odd times, and" if cleaned
out occasionally may be used
for several years.
In the ifoftbwest they fa*
In thoiBa^mr^'Stalcs^fthJn
barley and squaslies,pr pump
kins. In Hurth Carolina and
parts of Virginia and South
Carolina; bat little ‘corh^lk
used and pea$ are relied on to
fatten the pork liogs. Here'
in the Southwest we have
the sweet potato, which is
more easily raised, and is
more prolific, than any other
crop, and is far superior to
corn, peas or barlev for fat
telling hogs. A. bushel of
sweet potatoes will go nearly
as far as a bushel of corn in
fattening hogs,and they make
whiter, firmer, sweeter meat.
We have raised and measur
ed up G21 bushels of sweet
potatoes to the acre; wo have
seen 700 raised, and last year
it is stated that a new varie
ty of sweet potato produced
in Southwest Louisiana from
800 to 1000 bushels to the
acre; 200 is a common yield
on poor ground. With such
a material, so easily raised,
we ought to suffer the exact
ions of the pork ring if w e do
not raise our own pork and
bacon, and have plenty to
supply our own towns and
cities.
There is no difficulty in
curing the meat when once
we have it killed.
Field hands and laborers
like mess pork and everybody
likes good hams, shoulders,
middlings and jowls, dry sal
fed or smoked.
Atthd right season wewill
remember to furnish our rea
ders with several methods of
curing meats.
A young woman of enga
ging personal appearance,
says the Burlington Hawk
Eye, who came here last week
from Creston, recently an
nounced that she was going
to open a barber shop on
North Hill. The very next
(1 iv, each married woman on
North Hill, surprised her
lntshand, whose many virtues
she had long known and ad
mired, with a neat little pres
ent, consisting of a razor,,
lather brush, and strop. And
now, as often as a North Hill
man comes home,' tho wife
puts her arms around his
neck, and mbs her downy
cheek against his face in all
apparent innocence and affec
tion, but if his cheek is any
smoother than when he went
away from home in the mor
ning, she fans him with the
rolling pin until he has to
wear his hat on whichever
bump it will fit the best.
Yesterday when a couple
of excursionists were stroll
ing through tho market tlio
girl looked longingly at tho
fruit, and the yonng man af
ter a struggle with himself,
purchased several large plums
and divided with her.
‘Ho you doubt my love,
MillyP
‘Noap;’ her mouth ‘nlum’
full.
‘Because,’ he continued,
‘if I didn’t love yon I would
not be around buying boss
plums at live cents apiece,
w mild IF
She seemed satisfied—De
troit Free Press.
John Henry had a guest
to dinner the other day, and
during a pause in the conver
sation theliitleboy spoke up:,
‘I wish I was yon!’
‘Do you, my little man,
and why do you wish you
were met’
‘Cos you don’t get your ear
pinched w hen yoa eat vit+ols
with your knife.’
‘As to being conflicted •
with the gout,’ said Mrs. Par
tington, high living I know
don’t bring it on. It is inco
herent in some families* and
is handed dow n from father
to son. Mr. Hammer, poor
soul, who has been so long ill
with it, disinherits it from
his wile’s grandmother.’
‘I see the villain in your
face*’ said a lawyer to an un
manageable witness. ‘That’.*
a personal reflection!’ retort
ed thfi witness..