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I I. II 1 ISSUED TWIOB-A-WEBK---WBDNE8DAY ASTD FRIDAT. L. M. GRIST & SONS, Publishers. | 4 Jfnmiltt gttrapapfr: jfor (lie j3romotioit 0)j the Igofitiiml, Social, ^gricuHutial and <CommenciaI Interests of the JSouth. j TER8lnole coprYTHHm SCB' V< >H.TMK 42. 1 V< > I tKVILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, APRIL 17, 1896. NUMBER 32. MISS MADAM. By OPIE BEAD. [Copyright^ 18P6, by F. T. Neely.] CHAPTER EL The house was a double log structure, '~f a story and a half high, a broad, open passage between the two sections, and with the shaky gallery, that served as a summer dining place, running out in apparent aimlessness from the passage. The neichbors said that old Bradshaw, having more clapboards than he knew v what to do with, bnilt the roof as a sort of joke and was then compelled to pnt t down the floor as a necessity. Andrews did not see the children at snpper, but when he went to bed in a half room at the top of the house he heard them giggling in some mysterious hiding place, and as be lay sunk down into the old feather bed with a feeling of helpless comfort, he heard them giggle again, and then he heard rain pattering on the roof, close above his head. Rain on an old roof gently rocks the cradle for "nature's soft nurse." There comes no nervous dream, taken with the flashlight of a disturbed mind, flitting in troublous zigzag, but there is a semiconsciousness, a pleasurable sinking into deeper comfort, and a thankfulness through it all that the rain is falling so close overhead. Listlessly the visitor felt, rather than dreamed, that he was again a plowboy on the old farm, dreading the summons to get up and feed the horses, and, reaching out, he put his arm around tne restiui ease 01 morning drowsiness and hugged it closer to him, loath to part with it, shrinking from the thought of blazing corn rows, where the sweaty horse lashed his tail at the flies, where the 6pider fled along the strands of its rudely broken web, where the rusty toad, with a dismal croak, rolled upon its back in the new made furrow. Suddenly he started and looked ' about the room. Old man Bradshaw had " rapped on the 6tairway and had called: "Come on now, mister, and eat a snack." It was Sunday morning, and as Andrews stood on the veranda he thought that he bad never before seen a day so bright. Nature had smiled in her sleep and bad awakened with a laugh. The' old time roses in the yard held up their pouting lips to be pleased, as half 6poil< ed children do, and a resplendent hollyhock "that" grew near the kitchen, about whose roots the coffee grounds were poured every morning, devoid of warmth, seemed happy in the contemplation of its own gaudy dress. / "Jest set right down and fall to," said old man Bradshaw, and then, with a sly wink, he added, " 'Lizabuth must have got up befo' day and declared war on the chickens, for nouat 3 o'clock I beard the old Shanghai squawl like-thar wan't no mo' hope left on the face of the yeth." "Now, pap,-" his wife protested in ^ meek annoyance, seating herself at the foot of the table near the 6teamiug coffeepot and smoothing her hair in an embarrassed way, "if you keep on talkin like that, folks will think that I ain't got right good sense, but a body has to live, I reckon, and if chickens ain't to eat I'd like to know what they was put here for. Jest pass yo' plate, Mr. Andrews. " "Why don't Miss Madam and Little / Dave come along here uow and quit their everlastiu foolishness?" the old man asked, looking toward the kitchen door. "Eneugh of anything is enough, and too much don't taste sweet at all." Andrews heard a suppressed giggle, and then there came on the quick conveyance of an excited whisper the words: "Don't do that! Don't shove me out there!" "Come on here, now," Bradsbaw de manded. "We don't want, no mo' of that foolishness and won't have it, nuther!" Little Dave stepped ont upon the porch and cautiously advanced toward the ta' ble. Andrews saw an under size young man?a mere boy?pale, despite the seeming effect the sun had made to brown his face, with hair almost white, and with one leg apparently much smaller and shorter than the other. His eyes were almost as colorless as a potato vine that had grown in a ceHar, and his thin, drawn lips spoke, the guest fancied, in impressive silence of many and many a night of lonely suffering. The girl came out. A bashful smile put her shyness in italics and laid embarrassed stress upon her red timidity. Her eyes were brown, and her wayward hair inspired a thought of a ripening corn silk that a perfrftned breeze had tangled. She was beautiful. Even an old man. gazing ? upon her, would have been thrilled. Andrews was young. Ho cared no longer to listen in 6ilenco to what the old man might say, but began to talk. He told a pleasing story, and Miss Madam laughed. He was so free, so easy. They had never seen any one like bim. > After breakfast?, while the old man and Little Dave were feeding the stock, Andrews continued to sit at tho table, looking at the girl as she took away tho dishes. "Have you ever been to school?" he asked. "Not much," she answered. * "I suppose you'd like to go?" "Yes, but it's most too late now. I was at school one day, me and Little Dave, and a man rode up to tho schoolhouse and shot tho teacher and killed him. That was a long time ago, and thar hasn't been any school thar sence. The teacher had whipped a boy, and that was the reason the man killed him." "Would you come to me if I should take up a 6chool?" "If pap says so, I -would, but I'm afraid that me and Little Dave couldn't go until we git through hoein the com.'' "Do you have to hoe corn?" "Yes; when it's in the grass much, I da Pap wouldn't make me, but I hate to see him and Little Dave out in the field all by themselves." "But I should think that you'd rather stay at the house and help your mother." "I would sometimes." "Why not at all times?" She turned and looked about, and, seeing her mother standing at the yard gate, lOOJtlDg QOWB luw lvuviy iuuu, icsained her work without answering, but after a few moments she said: "Mother cries so much sometimes that I can't bear to see her. She's afraid the Lord don't love her, but I know he does, and pap knows it too. Tonder comes pap and Little Dave." "Come out under the trees, whar the air is stirrin,'.'said the old man when he had placed a basket on the veranda. I "Fetch a cheer with you." When they had sat down under a tree, Andrews said that he had thought of continuing his journey, but that the idea of taking up a school in the community had just occurred to him. "What do you think of it?" he asked. "Waal, if you ain't got no particular place to go to, and if nobody in particular ain't expectin you, I don't know but it would be as good plan as any, but thar's this about it?you won't git much of a spriDklin of scholars till the corn is laid by. Miss Madam could go most of the time, and Little Dave could go rainy days, but if it's money you're after, why, I ruther think you can do better in most any sort of business." "I don't care for the money that might be in it" "Waal, if that's the case, you can jest teach a school in this neighborhood as long as you are a mind to. 'Lizabuth," he called, "what's the matter with you 4-Kio Vnnmi'rt V" vmo uivtutui "Pap," she said, slowly turning her face toward him, "I jest know that I ain't elected." "Don't, now, 'Lizabuth; I say don't give up that way. Come over here and set down. Come on," he softly pleaded, going to her. He led her under the tree and placed her on his chair. "Don't, now." "Pap, thar's a certain number to be saved and a certain number to be lost." . VThar, now, don't. You'll feel better after awhile. What's dark now will be bright by and by. The Son of Man didn't die in vain. Come, we'll go out j in the woods and talk it over." He led her away, and Andrews went '?1 - mu DOCK IU UiU verajjuu. xuo H"-1 sweeping, aDd the cripple sat on the floor, with his back against the walL The visitor sat down on a rickety chair, and after gazing in the direction which the old man and his wife had taken turned'to the young man, and with an air of rather pleasing familiarity said, "Ah, by the way, Little Dave, I sup pcse yon would like to go to sohool, wouldn't you?" "I don't know," he answered, spitting through his teetb "I uster think that I'd like to go to si hool long enough to be a doctor, but I reckon I'm gittin nlnnrr ji littlft ton trmc.h for that now." "I wouldn't like to be a doctor," the girl spoke up, "for I have heard it said that they cut up dead folks." "I wuuldn't mind that," said Little Dave. "After Mil Purs ley's head had beeu split cpeu by a hoss kickin him I stood by aud seen a doctor sew it up, and uover flinched, uuther. Why did you wuut to kuow whuther I'd like to go to school or not?" "Because I was thinking of taking up a school in this neighborhood." "No; don't believe I want to go. Miss Madam," be added, "do yon want to go to meetin today?" "No; I can't. Mother and pap are goin, aud I'll have to stay and git din ner. Are you goin, mister?" No," Andrews answered, "for the truth is 11ode so hard yesterday that I don't care to do any riding today. Are you going, Little Dave?" The cripple glanced quickly at An drews and simply said, "ino. ' Mrs. Brads lmw appeared to be in better spirits when she and the old man returned from the woods, but occasionally, as she busied herself with preparations for the rido to church, there was a nervous outcropping of the distressing anxiety through which site had passed. While Eradshaw was attempting to tighten the saddle girth the old gray mare squealed maliciously, and, reaching around, bit a handful of hair from the top of his head, and in a frenzy he seized a fence rail, knocked her down, and then, clapping a hand 011 his head, swore furiously. "Uli, lor liiussy 6aKc, pap, ciou t! uu, pleaso duii'tl" his wife pleaded. "What iu the deuce, then, do yon expect me to do, hah:" lie cried, turning upon her with a sharp cut grin of agony. "Didn't you see her bite mighty nigh all the hair often the top of my head? Do you reckon I'm goin to stand here and call her honey after that? Whoa, hero now! Oh, you better stand still, or I'll maul the daylights outen you, you good for uothiu wretch, and 1 give you two years of corn extra twice within a week. Blast yo' old hide, I'll maul you till you can't see. Stand round here, now." "Pap, if you keep on that way, I'll bo afraid that you ain't elected uuther. " "I'd ruther not be elected than to have all my hair bit out by tho routs," ho exclaimed. "Dog my cats if I'm goin to stand it. Talk about bein elected when a fool maroissuappiu all tho hair often me. Wisht I may die dead jf I ever was hurt as Dad m my Jife! Whoa, I now! Oh, I'll maul yo' old head into a, loblolly if you don't quit yo'pranoin! Come on here now, 'Lizabuth, and Jet me help you up." Andrews, the girl and Little Dave stood looking after the old man and his wife until u bend far down the leafy road hid them from view. "I must go and gather some sniap beans for dinner," said Miss Madam, turning away. "And I will go and help you," Andrews gallantly volunteered. "No," Little Dave spoke np. "Iam anin with her. We don't want to im pose on company." "Oh, it would be no imposition, but a pleasure," Andrews deolared, and he went with them to the garden, although he felt that by one at least his presence was not desired. Little Dave carried a dishpan into which the beans were put and several times when Andrews attempted to deposit a handful the cripple adroitly and with the appearance of accident moved the pan so that the bafcns might fall on the ground. "You ljftle wretch," the visitor mused, "I'd like to shake that ill mannered sullenness put of you!" "Why, Mr. Andrews," the girl Exclaimed; "you are fliugin 'em on the ground 1" "Yes; he makes the pan dodge me," replied Audrews. . "I ain't doin nothin of the sort," Little Dave replied. "I reckon the io wn*i ore r?r?noa ntroH '' IJLUUUAU ID JUU UiO ViVOD \JJ vvti "Oh, you ought to be ashamed of yo'self, Little Dave I" she cried. "That ain't no way to talk about company, and if you don't mind I'll tell pap when he comes back. Don't pay no attention to him, Mr. Andrews, for he don't mean what he says." "Yes; I do too." "Now, Little Dave, you jest know you don't" "Do too." "Come on, now, we've got enough," said Miss Madam. "I can string 'em without anybody helpin me." "Won't you let me help you?" Andrews asked. "No," said the cripple. "I am goin to help her.'' Andrews, disgusted with the boy, lighted a pipe and lay down under a "No, 1 can't. Mother and pap are goln." tree iu the yard. "I wish that fool boy wasn't here," he mused. "What a restful place this is! What anelysium after nights that were heated with the fever of gluttony. Oh, cooling shades of simple life, if I had breathed thy atmosphere?I am a fool!" he broke off, turning over. "I am catching at the ravelings of a tattered sentiment. But ought I stay here and attempt to teach school? Why ask myself so silly a question? That child's face flutters in my bosom. Look here, Air.?Andrews?I never credited you with having much sound sense; but, hang it, sir, you are disappointing!" He sank into a reverie, half in the darkness of sleep and half in the light of consciousness, as the slowly waving boughs above threw shadows or sifted sun glints on his face. The boughs ceased waving and he slept, a dark shade lying on his couuteuance. "Come on and let's eat a snack!" cried old Bradshaw. He had just turned loose tho old gray mare?vea, had just dealt her a blow with the bridle, still holding a memory of her ingratitude. Andrews started up, and, as if he would rub off the dark shade, passed his hand over his face. "All right," ho answered. "I'll be with you in a moment." Old Mrs. Bradshaw hummed a sacred tune as she assisted her daughter in putting the dishes on the table. Her face was radiant with the indescribable light of a Christian hope and her eyes wero aglow with the soft effulgence of her soul's tranquillity. "You appear to bo happy," Andrews said as he approached the table. "Yes, for J feel now that I am elected. The clouds have been mighty dark, but tiio suu sinned out at iasi. x 114 afraid that you won't find tho dinner to yo' likiu, suh, but Miss Madam has done the best she can, I reckon." "If I kuowed tliat I was elected," said the old man, softly chuckling, "it wouldn't make no difference whuther a body liked my dinner or not." "Now, pap, you ougheu to talk that way, and you know it. It do seem to mo sometimes that you would make fun of anything on tho face of the yeth. But I reckon you can't help it. I reckon it was jest nachully horned in you. Mr. Andrews, you must help yo'self and not wait for pap, for ho never was a hand to help a body." "Well," replied the old fellow, "this is tho first I ever heard of that. I'll help his plate as fast as he can empty it, and that is about all anybody can da " TO HE ('ONCI.ri)KI) ON WKDNKSDAY. fiSy* Salt in whitewash will make it stick. Jttiscdlancous grading. UNKNOWN OWNERSHIP. United States Money Awaiting: the Proper Claimants. An old Uuited States treasury official now living in New York, in relating his experiences, says: "There is quite a large amount of money due people, who do not call for it, in the United States treasury. You see, there have been ten great loans made to the United Stales iu the past sixty years. The oldest I ever had anything to do with was that maturing la Til L-..i ..II ID 1830?1 1111 UK it Wits, iiisauuutuji paid, but there is still nearly one hundred and ten thousand dollars, in principal and interest, due to somebody. It will propahly never be called for. "And, speaking of that loan of 1836, there was a curious incident connected with my last reference to those old books relating to that claim. It was while Judge Folger was secretary. One morning an old man came in to me who was from a New England State. He said that about twenty years ago be found some old stocks or bonds among the pupers of an uncle (mentioning his name). He had been a man of national reputation for financial ability, and made a comfortable fortune for those days, that is, from noo/\ ? _ 104A A U~A J.O?U lu low, nuu uc ubu wine iu uiic United Slates treasury to find out if these old papers were worth anything, as they seemed to be United States bonds. I looked at them. They were ten of the 'old debt' bonds, and were indeed curiosities. They were old and yellow from age, but were worth, principal and interest, seventy thousand dollars in gold, for there was ten years' interest due on them. "You can imagine the old man's amazement when I told him this. 'Why, I would gladly have taken five thousand for them,' said he, 'and I offered them to a Boston banker for less than that, but he rather superciliously and contemptuously declined to buy them at any figure.' "I took the old man to see Judge Folger, who was very much interested in the matter when I explained it to him He had never seen anything of the 'old loan' securities, and after these were paid and cancelled I believe he directed that one of them be framed and preserved. Well,- in less than half an hour's time the old New Engender walked out of-the building with" a check in his pocket on the New York sub-treasury for seveuty thousand dollars in gold ! How that 'smart' Boston banker must have cursed his own ignorance and stupidity when he learned what he had thrown away. "A circumstance very similar to this occurred in relation to some Texas indemnity bonds (the next oldest of our national loans), when Mr. Morrill was secretary of the treasury. A prominent Southwestern man, who had held a high command in the Mexican war and was a Confederate general officer, left among his papers a certificate of 'Texas indemnity stock,' as it was called, for ten thousand dollars. His widow visited here soon after her husband's death, aud being very much reduced, was consulting the late Mr. George Riggs concerning the disposition of some Texas lands. "Kuowing that her husband had been a large holder of these securities, M r. Riggs said : 44 'Mrs. , what did General do with his Texas indemnity stock ?' 'I really don't know,'the lady answered. 4I never heard of any such things.' 44'By the way,'she said, a few minutes later, 4I saw in an old envelope I found among his papers not very long ugo something which had the words "Texas indemnity" on it, but I thought it was un old receipt for taxes paid on the Texas land.' 'Do you think you o * . :.j xr.. T>: can nna it again r sum mr. j^^ga, without telling her anything which would create expectations that might never be realized. 'Oh, yes,' she replied. 'I remember perfectly well where I put it.' 'Have it sent to me here,' was tlie next suggestion of the banker. 'It is as well to have all the papers relatiug to this land together.' "In the course of the next fortnight the lady came into the bank, and handing Mr. Riggs a paper, said, "Here is the tax receipt.' However, it was a ten thousand dollar Texas indemnity certificate, on which five years' interest was due, and the intense gratification of the lady may be imagined when she was told that the old yellow bit of paper would udd twelve thousand five hundred dollars in gold?which was then at a small premium?to her worldly goods. It came just in time, too, for she was able, with the money, to save a valuable estate in Arkansas, which otherwise would have been sold to foreclose a mortgage overdue. Nearly all the'Texas indemnity'bonds have been paid long ago, and I do not think there can be more than twentyfive thousuud dollars which has not been called for. Of course, interest has ceased to accrue. "The next United States loan was that known in the market as the 5-20, a bond that could be paid in five years, or in twenty, after its maturity, as the government might choose. It reached the limit seven years ago, and has .11 1 !.l T? ....... ].,^role an uecu ptuu. it ?ao ytij migvy held in Europe. There remains only about half a million outstanding. "What percentage of United States bonds do you estimate will never be presented for payment ?" was asked. "It is not possible for me to make any estimate that would be at all accurate," was the reply. ONLY A HAT. . ? A boy 10 years old suddenly appear- I ed on the street with a rat-trap held j high in his band. The trap contained I a rat?an old veteran?who had pro- i bubly eaten 20 times his weight'in I cheese. For years and years'he had I been too fly for those who had sought ' his destruction, but the pitcher had ' gone to the well once too often. He I was squealing and squif-naing about, I but there was no one to pity. The I boy had scarcely gained the street i when there was a rush for him, and < men aud boys were heard shouting: < "He's got a rati " "Lemme git my dog?" Tho man whn Irnnws all about rats I was there of course. Also the man ( who has made the killing of rats a < specialty all his life. I "You don't want to fool with that I rat," cautioned the first. 'T think I know my business," I bluntly replied the second. Three or four dogs were brought 1 into the crowd. The man who is al-1 ways willing to boss the job got off the street car and elbowed his way in j to demand: J "What's all this fuss about? A rat, eh? Now, then, everybody stand ] back. Gimme that trap!" ] The boy demurred. It was his trap and bis rat. He felt that he ought to ] be consulted. "Let her go, Gallagher I" yelled one ] of the crowd. * * -Jl TT _ I A policeman appeared, ne oegan to use bis official elbows to open a path ] for bis body, bnt the crowd resented ? the action and began to hustle him un- ] til be threatened to collar someone. Meanwhile, the two men who knew all about rats were jawing with ] the man who wanted to boas the job, and the boy was declaring that bis 1 brother would lick the man who stole his rodent. t "Look out for the cop !" The crowd began to circle around, and the boy fell down and lost his i trap. Some one picked it up and shook the rat out, and dogs, and men, and boys were all mixed up and falling < over each other. In the confusion the rat got away into the sewer, the policeman rapped three men on the hack with his club, and the crowd dissolved, leaving about a dozen hats being kicked around on the battle-ground. Then a lot of people shook their fists in the < air, and another lot called somebody a 1 liar, and everybody went away mad, .aud threatening to get even if it took < bim a whole year.?Good News. Eight Husbands.?A dispatch to ' The Globe-Democrat from Butte, Montana, under date of April 3, circulates ( the following matrimonial story : "John H. Green, a raining man, told \ an attorney a remarkable story of his matrimonial experience with a handsome woman whom he married last 1 September under the name of Gladys ' Southard, and who deserted him about three weeks ago, taking $500 of his cash with her. Before leaving she had dropped frequent remarks which led Green to think that she had another husband living, and after she left he started an investigation and discovered that he was her eighth husband, and that she was divorced from none. "The first trace he found of her was buck on a farm near Des Moines, la. 32 years ago, when she was about 14 years old, where she married a widower named Amerman, with several children. In six months she deserted him and went to Des Moines and married one Gossage, with whom she lived for a year, and then ran away with a traveling man named Lassell, to whom she was married in Helena, Mont. He left, her and she went to A r\ J .? [ i uruauu, v/ic., uuu iiiiinicu uuc i/aj ton, and, subsequently in the same ( city, married a man named Daven- J port. A few years later she turned up in Albany, Ore, as the wife of a man 1 named Ryan, aud later as the wife of } a sewing machine agent named N-el- 1 son, at Portland. "She next turned up in Butte as a J devout attendant of the Baptist church, ' where Green met her, and after a J short acquaintance they were married. Green is seeking to have his marriage ? annulled." For a Baby Exchange.?The in- 1 exhaustible energy of Editor Stead . of the London Review of Reviews appears to have found a new outlet. He has discovered that one of the y wants of the modern world is a conveni?nt baby exchange. There are fam- * ilies of too many children and there ] are couples who have none. There ( are homes desolated by bereavement ? and others t hat are rendered almost as j unbearable by the influx of a supera- j bundance of little ones. At present no f ' " - 1- 1J 1 medium or exenange exists tnat wouiu j tend to equalize the supply and de- r maud or to establish the balance j between those who have too many babies and those who have none. Mr. , Stead is convinced that an exchange * of this kind and the exteusion of the j practice of adoption would have the ^ effect of alleviating much misery.? f New York Tribune. A Family Party.?A lawyer in Australia was defending a young man ] whose record was malodorous. Igno- t ring the record, however, the lawyer ( proceeded to draw a harrowing pic- , ture of two gray haired parents in ( England looking anxiously for the re- , turn of their prodigal son to spend the \ next Christmas with them, and he ? asked, "Have you the hearts to deprive the old couple of this happiness ?" [The jury, however, found, the prison- ^ er guilty. Before passing sentence the judge called for the prisoner's jail record, after examining which he blandly remarked that the prisoner had ;ome five previous convictions against him, but he was glad to say that the learned counsel's eloquent appeal would not remain unanswered, for he would commit the prisoner to Maitlaud jail, where his aged parents at the present moment were serving sen> 1? ? fA?kA. leoces respectively, su tuai latuci, mother and sod would be able to spend the ensuing Christmas season under one roof.?Argonaut. White Republicans.?The Columbia correspondent oTThe News and Courier has compiled the following list }f white Republicans who were delegates to the Lilly White convention in Columbia last Tuesday: Newberry?Dr. Sampson Pope, B. 3'Dell Duncan and J. S. Russell. Darlington?C. S. Nettles, Paul Whipple, and J. Bart White. Union?J. C. Hunter. Greenville?D. F. Bounds,' Frank Nichols, D. N. Jordon, H. J. Felton, A. VI. Dawson and A. L. Cobb. Anderson?Robert Jackson, Foster Fant, W. C. Bailey, J. N. Culberson, Robert Russell and W. N. Russell. Orangeburg?F. M. Prickett, J. B. Prickett and J. D. Prickett. Pickens?H. B. Hendrix and J. S. Dtt&OI, Oconee?M. H. Brice and C. E. Gray. Charleston?A. T. Jennings, B.. Doscber, Nick Von Glahn, W. G. Welkjrt, H. G. C. Hackerman, F. D. Jolanul, J. A. Noland and M. Caulfield. Williamsburg?Lou Jacobs. Lexington?Simeon Corley and D. J. Cnotts. Beaufort?J. M. Crofurt and T. E. Wilder. Kicbland?L. D. Melton, E. M. Braynin and J. T. Rideout. Kershaw?G. G. Alexander. Sumter?J. N. Tindal and R. M. Wallace. * / Horry?W. R. King and ? Collins. Edgefield?M. W. Watson, J. B. 3dom and T. N. Odom. Lancaster Schweringen. Laurens?Max Jareck. Aiken?Delavan Yates. Chester?E. Brooks Sligh. Curiosities About Coins,?Her)dotus says that Croesus was the first ruler to order gold coins made. In the year 450 B. C., round copper coins were first rr?de. Each weighed , 12 ounces. : ; The most valuable United States cents are those of 1793,1799,1804,1809, 1813, 1823 and 1827. The rarest and most valuable United States coin of what is called the "regular mint series" is the silver dollar of 1804. A silver half-dime of the year 1802 s worth $30, if in good condition, and from $10 to $25 if in only fair shape. The only valuable nickel 5-cent piece is that of the year 1877, which be collectors purchase at $1 each. The little silver 3 cents piece was 5rst coined in 1851. It was discontinued in 1873. One of the first date s worth a dime, one of the last $1. The face on the silver dollar is that )f a young lady residing in Philadelphia. Her nume is Anna W. Williams, ind she is a teacher of kiudergarden philosophy. The very'oldest coin in the British Vluseum is an Aegian piece of the year rOU tS. U. it is not aatea, or course, iating being a modern innovation, exending back only 500 years. He Sold His Goods.?There was a )oy who was sent out by his father to sell some potatoes. He carried the iag around all day without a sale, and >n reaching home at night threw it lown with the surly exclamation: 'Nobody that I met asked me for poatoes. One fellow wanted to know vhat I had in the bag, and I told him t was none of his darned business." There was, in the same town, a eol>red gentlemen who went about bawlng at the top of his voice: "Fish! Fish ! Fish ! Fresh fish !" "Shut up that racket!" said an an?ry dame at a window. "You hear me, missy ?" "Hear you ! You can be heard a mile iway." "Dat's what I'ze hollerin for. Fish 1 Fish ! Fish ! Fresh fish 1" The colored gentleman was an advertiser and sold his goods. Doing Justice.?In his class at Yale, says Dr. Snipe in the Bath (Me.) ndependent, was a student who dimbed street lampposts and removed street signs for his room ornamentaion. The chief of police at New flaven happened by accident one day o see the signs in his room and, after nforming him that the fine for thus emoving such articles was $5 per sign, nquired how many he had. The ;outh replied, "Forty." The chief said if he would return them the mis:hief would be overlooked. On huntng up the signs the student discovered hat he had but 32, and that night he itole eight more in order to return, as le did next day, precisely 40 signs. BfiT A lady who is far more particu' *- L ? J nnnooron/m ar aiJOUL UtT UUSUUUU 3 han he is. was surveying him with svident disapproval. "What is the natter?" he inquired. "That suit of ;lothes. You've had it only three veeks, and it looks as if you had slept n it." "I have he repled, candidly 'I wore it to church." 86T Most people advise for their own ;ood rather than that of others.