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Rapides gazette. (Alexandria, La.) 1869-187?, December 27, 1873, Image 1

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TILL D AI ... a _,. .... . . I. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __-_ . . . .
Wa met amid the yellow sheaves,
When both Were young and both were fair;
We plucked the scarlet poppy leaves,
And cast their peals t toth air.
We had no thought of all the woes
The morrow's sun might haply bring;
The perfume of youth's heyday rose
Was to our senses ravishing.
The glamour of life's early love
Was on our souls and in our eyes;
We turned no passing glance above
To look for storms or darkened skies.
Ah mel long garnered are the sheaves
The poppy flowers are sere and dead
And withered have the summer leaves
And clouds are gathering overhead.
Yet still our trust is Arm and true,
Still each leans on the other' arm;
The sky is black thatouce was blue,
But we have still love's golden charm.
What be life's ills If they be shared
By aoe true heart we know our own ?
If true Love ne'er the rough ways dared,
He never would ascend a thr, ne.
-Harper's Baser.
A Charistmas Story.
Runr was his real name-R-u-ff, Ruff.
Chubby was an honorary title, given him
by the newsboy club to which he belonged.
They liked the sound of it; and then it
was a good fit. For Chubby Ruff was not
one of your lean, bony, dingy fellows,
such as you generally expect a newsboy to
be; but short, wide, thick, plump, in fact
chubby, with red cheeks, roguish black
eyes, a stumpy little nose and the drollest
mouth that ever shouted "E-e-e-vuu-uing-g
papers i"
Itas the night before Christmas, and
swarms of people were hurrying up and
down the streets, jostling each other right
and left, slipping on the Icy walks, squeez
ing into crowded stores, out again with
ull pockets and empty wallets: hugging
their precious holiday bundles, and smil
ing all over in happy expectation of the
morrow. Chubby was fully equal to the
occasion, and entered at once into its spirit.
He charged upon the good-natured crowd,
met every man in his own humor, and
kept up aconstantstrean of newsboy lingo
and eloquience.
" Evening papers here! Holiday edi
tion ! All about where to buy Christmas
presents and save half your money! One
million dollars' worth of information for
five cents! Paper, sir? Have a paper?
Thank you, sir. Trade with our adver
tisers and you're all right. Great holiday
of the season for only five cents!
Leading paper of the world selling here
for half a dime ! The ladies dote on it, and
the children cry for it! Paper, Mister?
Better take a paper and make your family
hubby took especial satisfaction in
standing where the brilliant shops drew off
little streams here and there from the great
crowd, and driving a brisk competition
with the shopkeepers for their customers'
small change. At the bookstores, for in
stance, he would cry out. " I)on't waste
your money for expensive books, ladies
and gentlemen, when you can buy the best
reading in the world for only five cents!"
At the toy-shops the argument was, " Bet
ter buy something useful and instructive,
and not be fooling with playthings at your
time o' life. Paper here! Great curiosity
of the age for half a dimne!" With the
confectioner's cu"totners he expostulated
in this fashion, "Don't give your children
candy to appil their teeth, my dear friends.
but get 'erm something to lmprove their
minds. Paper here! Papers for cld and
young, at only five cents apiece !"
But while Chubby thus exhorted the
multitude, he really cared just as much as
they did for all the fine things which he
warned them against; and having deliver
ed one of his harangues, and sold a paper
or two, he would turn to the show win
dows as willingly as anybody. Nobody's
mouth watered more quickly in contempla
tion of gun-drops and c"ramels. Nobody's
fingers itched and tingled and snapped
more eagerly at the sight of patent tops
and bright, new skates. Nobody looked
with more hungry eyes at the shelves full
of handsome books. I am afraid that
Chubby spent a good deal of time at the
windows that he ought to have devoted to
business. At any rate, the clocks were
striking eleven, the streets were getting
empty, the shopkeepers were putting up
their shutters, and Chubby had six papers
left unsold when he entered a certain no
tion store on the corner and walked up to
the counter. The customers had all gone,
and the clerks, a little tired and cross, were
preparing to leave.
"Clear out!" growled one of them to
Chubby. " Off with you !"
"Don't speak till you're spoken to,
you man," said Chubby.
e don't want your papers, I tell
you," growled the clerk again, as Chubby
drew the bundle from under his arm.
"Oh, yu don't! Then I shall feel easy
about 'emn," retorttedl Chubby, laying them
down to the counter.
"What do you want, any way?" asked
another dclerk, a little more graciously.
"A bull-dog,"' answered Chubby, confl
dentially: "Js that one for sale?"
A general laugh followed, during which
Mr. M:uarsh. the proprietor of the store.
came from hisoffice buttoning urp hisgreat
"Well, my lad," said he, pleasantly,
" what can we (1do for you ?"
"I'm looking for Christmas presents,
"Going to give mother something, eh?"
"No, sir; she's dead."
"Father. perhaps?"
" lie's dead, too."
" Brothers or sisters, then '"
"Haven't any in the world, sir."
"Who1 then ?'
"Why, you see. Mr. Marsh, I haven't
anybody to give presents to. and there isn't
anvboly to give any to me, so I thought
l'j give myself one."
.tal ital plan," said the merchant "ca
ital. So you know my name, el ? irhat s
yours ?"
" Chubby Ruff, sir."
CChubbyRuff. Good again. Chubby
Ruffgives Chubby Huff. his sole surviving
relative, a ('Christmas present, as a mark of
his esteem! Very good. Come this wa',
Chubby, and let us look over the stock.
You can go," said he to the clerks; " 1'll
walit oil this customer."
And nio mIillionaire drivini to the store
his a lenlidh carriage that say, no griand
y ii li'r l ta'es and -ilk", had bbll mnore
lit-lrve. than lChubby Ruff' was by
-2. .h. It is safe to sajr, also, that no
one had been happier in his purchase than
Chubby was, when he received, in ex
change for his pocketful of nickels, the
very thing that he most wanted to give
himself--a shiny red sled, strived with gilt,
and adorned with a picture of a reindeer at
full seed.
1" ou're very kind, sir," said Chubby,
gratefully, as he turned to go.
" I don't know as I am," said Mr. Marsh,
"though it's a time to show kindness
now. io you know what Christmas is,
Chubby ?"
"Oh, yes, sir. I learned that at the Mis
sion. It's Jesus' birth-day."
"Yes, yes. Well we must be kind for
His sake. Where do you live, Chubby ?"
"But where do you stay? Where do
you sleep?"'
"Well, sir, generally I sleep down at the
Hall. We pay five cents for a bed there.
But when I haven't any five cents, I know
where there's a big crockery.crate full of
straw, and I crawl in there."
"How about to-night ?"
"Well, you see I paid all my money for
my sled, so I shall sleep in the crate."
"Not by considerable, my brave fellow !
Here's half a dime for your lodging. No,
stop ; you shall sleep here. Mike!" he
called to the watchman, "put a rug down
by the stove for this boy to sleep on, and
find something to throw over him. Good
night, Chubby."
'Good-night, Mr. Marsh."
" Take good care of him, Mike."
"All right, zur."
Chubby Ruff had a dream as he lay
asleep on the rug before the stove. If he
had not dreamed, my story would have
been shorter; or perhaps I should never
have told it at all. Chubby dreamed that
he was wandering about the streets at
night with six papers under his arm, and
drawing his new sled. It was very late -
the shops were all shut; and there was not
a soul in the streets--noteven a watchman.
Chubby was trying to find the crockery
crate, but he could not; and the more he
looked for it the further off he got, and
the more bewildered and tired he grew.
At last he sat down on his sled in despair,
and feeling a good deal more like crying
than anything else he could think of. ''hat,
however, he determined not to do, come
what would.
Just then he heard sleigh-bells-the tini
est, dreamiest little tinkle that ever he
heard in his life-and in a moment up can
tered eight reindeer, just like the one on
his sled, only no bigger than grayhounds,
drawing a sleigh made of pearl and tor
toise-shell with silver thills and gold run
ners, in which sat Santa Claus himself, a
funny old fellow, dressed from head to foot
in shaggy gray far, and looking fat and
stumpy enough to be Chubby's own
brother. As he dashed by Chubby called
"Hello, you! I *ay, Mister, gi' me a
hitch ?'"
" Whish-sh-sh!" said Santa; and the
eight reindeer stopped as quick as a wink,
and stood stamping and knocking their
horns together in the most impatient man
ner. " Who's that calling?" said the little
man, standing up and looking all about.
"I did," said Chubby, a little frightened,
stepping out into the moonlight.
" Oh, you did ? Yes, a boy, of course!
I might have known it was a boy. Can't
stop to talk. Got miles and miles to ride.
Call rouud day after to-morrow if you want
"I onlwanted to ask you-"
"Yes, yes; I know. You want to ask
about presents. It's all right, all right.
List all made out. Goods packed and la
beled. Couldn't change anything now.
Run right home and go to bed; that's a
good lad."
"I haven't any home," said Chubby ;
" I'm going to sleep in the crate, back o'
the lamp-store, and I just wanted a hitch;
that's all, sir."
"A hitch! That's a fine idea! Why
your sled would be smashed to pieces, and
your neck broken, in no time. What's
your name ?"
" Chubby Ruff."
" Tisn't on mylist; that's a fact. Haven't
any home, hey?"
No, sir."
"Wish I'd brought one or two along, I
declare. I'd give you one in a minute.
Well, jump in here. I'll give you a ride,
any way."
"What shall I do with my sled ?" asked
"Put it in the magic box." And Santa
lifted up the velvet cushion of the seat.
' See there I" said he. Chubby looked in,
and saw a deep box full of miniatureChrist
mas presents. There were rocking-horses
of the size of a baby's thumb; and dolls
no bigger than pin-beads; and tops, ll.s,
books, games, candles, suits of clothes
everything you could think of-but all so
very little! "That's the way I carry my
load," said Santa. "When I pultanything
in there it shrinks right up. When I take
it out again it isas big as ever." Andsure
enough, he dropped in Chubby's sled, and
it changed in an instant to the size of your
little Ifnger-nail. "Now we're off." said
he. "Tsit!"
The reindeer gave a bound, and up they
went, sleigh, Santa, Chubby and all, to the
roof of the nearest house. Santa filled his
pack from the magic box, and disappeared
down a chimney. In aquarterof a minute
out he popped again, like a jumping-jack
out of his box,leaped into the sleigh.
hissed to his team, and with one spnng
they had cleared the street and landed in
the next block. Again Santa filled his
pack and skipped through a scuttle.
And so he went on with his work-now
here, now there, now on the roofs, now
down in the streets; now entering by the
chimneys or scuttles, now climbing
through the windows. The reindeer did
wvonders. They seemed to understand the
whole thing as well as Alanta himself, and
made the wildest leaps without hesitation
or mistake. Sometimes, when they were
flying through the air, Chubby would
think they were surely going to be dashed
to pieces and would shut hiseyes in terror;
but they always came out right. It made
no difference what sort of roofs they had
to climtb-fiat-roofs, hip-rootf, gables, or
Mansards--all was one to them. And
what amazed Chubby was that they never
slipped on the iciest places, and never
made a track in the snow. This proves, of
course, that Chubby only dreamed all this :
for we all know that our reindeer do make
The magic box seemed to be inexhausti
ble. Sanlta Claus flled his pack from it
hun'drl Is of rites, until, as he told Chubby,
he had taken forty-seven car-loads of pres
ents from it. lie would reach in and pick
up a little mite of a thing--a tip.cart, per
haps, or a drum-that he could hold be
tween his thumb and finger, when, presto !
the instant it came out of the box it would
be as big as ever. Chubby never grew
tired of watching these changes, and often
laughed outright to see what looked like a
wooden mosquito suddenly swell out into
a wooden ox or an elephant.
The number and richness of the presents
surprised him very much; and Santa him
self admitted that he never had a finer
stock. Of course, there were thousands
upon thousands of cheap toys and trinkets ;
but there were also presents of great value.
'T'here were, for instance, one hundred and
seven u old watches, and seven hundred and
one silver ones, ninety-three sets of turs
over forty diamond rings, anid ear-rings and
breastpins by the bushel.
Sometimes, as Santa was loading his
pack, he would tell Chubby who the differ
ent gifts were for, and what sort of people
they were. And Chubby was greatly per
plexed to find that many of the nicest
things were for very naughty children, and
that many of the most costly things were
for the rich, who did not need them, while
good boys andtgirls were often put off with
a very meagre gift and the poor, too, often
with nothing at all. But when lie asked
Santa about it, the old man shook his head,
and said that lie couldn't go into that ques
tion then; that it had perplexed wiser
folks than Chubby; and that he did not
rightly understand it himself. The good
Lord, lie said, had seen fit to make some
rich and some poor; and it was not for an
old saint like him to try to undo his Mas
ter's work.
" Besides," added he, " you must under
stand that the true worth of these things is
not the store-price of them, but the amount
of happiness which they bring ; and I have
seen many a poor lad more pleased with a
two-penny toy watch than many a rich
man s son was with a gold one. Once,"
continued Santa, "when I was quite young
and inexperienced-I think it was on my
four hundredth or four hundred and first
Christmas trip-I thought it would be a
bright idea to equalize things a little. So
I gave a diamond ring to an old apple
woman's son, and a penny-whistle to a
young millionaire. The police found the
poor boy trying to sell the ring, and be
lieving that he :must have stolen it, put
him in prison. The young millionaire was
so enraged at the meanness of his gift, that
he -ot black ini the face, fell down in a fit,
and became an idiot. After that," said
Santa, " I never meddle with folks' cir
cumstances, butj ust adapt myself to them."
" There is one other question I should
like to ask," said Chubby.
"What is it?"
"I should like to know why your pack
seems sometimes to be very light when
there are heavy things in it, and very heavy
when there are light things in it."
"Now you have hit upon my greatest
secret," said Santa.
" Oh, don't tell me if you would rather
not," said Chubby.
"I don't mind telling you," Santa re
plied. " though I never mentioned it before.
You ee our sort of people have dififerent
weights and measures from what your sort
of people lhave. Things are light and
heavy to us, according to how much they
are good for. Now, here is a package
marked Sam Rothschild. It contains a
chest of tools, a pair of skates, a croquet
set, and so on--all what you would call
heavy articles. But to me the whole con
cern doesn't weigh as much as a good-sized
goose-quill, because they will do that un
happy, discontented, unreasonable Sali no
good at all. But here is a bundle marked
Tommy Jones, containing a tippet and a
pair of mittens knit by his grandmother, a
new knife from his mother, and a sugar
heart from his little sister Meg--all what
you would call light things, you see; yet
they are so heavy to me that I fairly stag
ger under them, for I know they'll make
Tom so happy that lie can hardly contain
himself. W hy, It seems to me I'm carry
ing about five tons of happiness in that
And sure enough Santa had all that he
could do to lift Tommy's presents into the
pack, but tossed Sam 's in as if they were
so much thistle-down. After a night of
hard work, Santa finished his task just be
fore day-break. Chubby was glad to see
the last load taken from the magic box, for
he was getting tired anti cold. Santa felt
a little tired, too, as well he might; and the
last load was a pretty heavy one, for they
were in a neighborhood now where a great
deal of happiness went with a present.
Chubby noticed something more than fa
tigue in the old man's look as he came
slowly back with his empty pack. lie was
troubled about something, that was plain.
"Did we take everything out of the
magic box, Chubby ?" he asked.
" Everything but my sled," said Chub
by. " Don't you know we picked a violin
and a pair of copper-toed boots out of the
crack in the left-hand corner?"
"So we did," said Sants: "and fished
that microscope out of the nail-hole on the
Yethe looked the box all over again,
holding his lantern close down, and hunt
Ingevery corner. ''There was nothing there
but Chubby's sled.
" lHave you lostanything?" said Chubby.
"No; but there's poor Phil, the lame
boy in the next house. I wish I had
broughtsomething for him."
" 1 suppose he couldn't use a sled, if he's
lame?" said Chubby.
"Just the thing he wants. Then his bil
brother Jack ouild draw him to sechool.
But we haven't one for him, that's clear."
"There's mine." sail Chubby.
• What are you thinking of?" said Santa
" I was thinking," said Chubby, "of
what Mr. Marsh sall when he n as so kind
to me in the store. le said it was a time
to tdo good for .Tesums' birth-day: and I
should like to do somn, good for ilis sake;
and I think he would like to have me give
PI'hil the sled; and I would like to, too. It
would bhe a real (hristnas present, then;
and I should like to see how it would be
Santa looked at Chublby for a moment
with glistening eyes. Then he stooped
and took the sled froln the magic box. It
was the hearviet load ihe had carried that
night, andl Chubby saw how he staggered
under it as he walked off with it toward
I'hil's house. When he camne back he
walked very briskly, and the sober look
wa~ gone from his Face.
" Chubby," said he, "would you like a
home for a Christmas present ?"
" I should hlike it very much, if it w ' a
good one." said C(hubby.
Santa Clans took his seat and spok ,
his reindeer. Off they went like a she,
through miles and miles of streets, tunliig
corners, crossing bridges, never slackening
their pace for an instant till they came to a
handsome old mansion on the outskirts of
I the city. Here, at a "'whish-sh-sh" from
their master they stopped still.
S" This is the ace," sakl Santa. "Climb
into my pact"
Chubby clinbed in.
" Am I very eavy?" he asked.
• " As heavy as an elephant," said Santa.
I can'tcarry you. I'm glad of it, though ;
r it's a sign they're going to like you."
"What shall I do, then ?"
" Carry yourself."
" Which way ?"
" Up the rain-spout."
"Inside or outside?"
"Outside, of course. Follow me."
Santa climbed nimbly up, and Chubby
followed him as well as he could; but when
I he had got about thirty feet from the
ground his strength began to fall, and he
felt sure he would have to drop. lie
looked up and saw Santa looking down at
him over the edge of the roof.
" Climb a little higher," said he, "and
you can reach my hand."
" I can't," said Chubby; and with that
he woke up.
It was broad daylight. MIke was taking
I down the shutters, and Mr. Marsh, who
had just come in, stood by the stove look
ing down at Chubby.
"It was only a dream after all,"said
Chubby, jumping up and rubbing his
"What wasa dream?" asked Mr. Marsh.
"Will you tell it to me?"
Chubby related the dream, and Mr.
Marsh listened with great interest, all the
while studying Chubby's face, and think
ing very hard.
"There's stuffin him, that's clear," said
the merchant to himself.
" What, sir?" said Chubby.
"Chubb," said Mr. Marsh, "do you
like selling papers for a living?"
"It's the best I can do sir."
" But suppose I could help you to do
something better-to become a merchant,
for instance ?"
"I should like that very much, sir."
" Well, I've been thinking about It since
last night, Chubby, and I have taken a no
tion that you might make a pretty fair
merchant. If it would suit you, I'm-"
"Oh, it would suit me, sir, I'm sure."
" Well, then, I'll give you a place right
here in my store."
" You're very kind, sir."
"That remains to be seen. I may be do
ing you a kindness, and I may be doing
myself one; perhaps both; perhaps
neither. We can tell better by and by."
And so, after more talk than it is neces
sary to relate, It was arranged that Chubby
should becme a clerk in the store; and
better still, that he should, for the present
at least, board in Mr. Marsh's family.
"And how about the sled ?" asked Mr.
"I think, sir," said Chubby, "that I
would like to do as I did in the dream, and
give it to somebody that needs it more
than I do."
" Do you know such a one ?"
" Oh, yes sir. There's limping Peter,
that used to belong to our club, and got
run over by a dray. I shall give it to
And so Chubby Ruff's Dream came true
-the best part of it, at least. He got a
Christmas present of a home, and began
his more prosperous life by doing a little
goodl for Jesus' sake.-Little Corporal for
The Wife Makes the Husband.
I remember well a couple with whom I
was for years on terms of closest intimacy.
Tha husband was a gentleman of God's
creation. He filled with honor an import
ant office under the United States Govern
ment ; lie had a large private fortune which
he spent generously on his family, for he
desired above all things their happiness. s
lis wife was young, beautiful, and had
been raised by his love from a life of bitter I
poverty and toil. She had a splendid
home, a devoted husband, and four fine
sons and daughters. Her power over her
husband was very great, and not the weak
est of her weapons was this sulky, tearful, 4
injured silence. But she had no tact, she<
strained thg bow too far and it snapped. I
shall never forget the months of misery
preceding their final separation.
And in society he bore all the blame. I
Was his wife not strictly virtuous ? Was
she not a careful and conscientious moth
er; an acknowledged betauty and a pattern I
housekeeper? What then did he want?
He answered them as an old Roman did on
a similar occasion. Stooping down, he
loosened his shoe, Inquiring, "Is it not f
new? Is it not well made ? Yet none of
you can tell where it pinches me." That I
is just the kind of misery. Try if you can
bear a pinching shoe month after month, l
year after year-yet it is not so Irritating
as a sulky woman.
Husbands as a general rule are what
wives make them. If a woman complains
to me of an unsympathizing husband I
listen with a closed mouth, and a closed
heart too. I do not indeed deny but what
there are men too utterly bad for any wo
man to influence; but men do not become
bad, sour and spoiled by some sudden
lightning stroke-all at once. A woman
of any penetration must see suspicious cir
cumstances in such before marriage, and
people who run rjsks vohlntarily ought
not to expect immunity from conse
quences. And if the man was a good man
when she married him, and grew bad un
der her management, and in her society,
she cannot be altogether blameless. l)e
pnd uponl, it there are as may ill-used hus
ands as wives, only the former keep a stiff
uppwr lip about their mistake, and the lat
ter bring theirs before the foot-lights and
ask the world to cry with them.--Golden
It will not do for scholars to depend on
sound for the meaning of wonts, or they
will fall into bad blunders. A sehool
board director, while lately examining
some young children, asked them the fol
lowing questions: "Are there any moun
tains in Palestine ?"' "Yes," replied the
children. "How are they situated ' iiin
quiredl the examiner. "Some are in clus
ters, and there are some isolated ones,"
they answered. "What do you meman by
the word isobsted ?" asked the examiner.
" Why, coverled wIth ice." t
Tax Peoria Reviesoe says that alady teach
er in one of the public schools was amazed
the other day by seeing a perfect forest of I
juvenile hands fly up in the air and shake
and gesticulate with violent agitation. I
"' What do you want ' querued thei puz- I
zledinstructor. Chorus--" Yerhair's fall- t
ing off."
Sco8eld's Goat.
Deputy-Sheriff Harvey Scofield of West
Farms was recently the proprietor of a billy I
goat. The mischievous pranks of this
quadruped were fully up to the average,
and were the source of continued ajxiety
to Mr. Scolleld. The goat was the terror
of bill posters, for he could reach a hand
bill on the highest fence, and one day a
circus troupe which had lost heavily by
visithig the town charged their bad luck
to Scfleld's goat, who had eaten their 1
posters. Small boys with red stockings
always gave his goatahip plenty of room I
whenever he took a promenade. A grange
boy only needad butting over on to be
come as contemplative as the village boys.
The goat had a great dislike for yellow
dogs, and never misaed an opportunity to
pitch one of them into the Bronx it he
could catch him on the bank of the river.
A fight among the village dogs could be
broken up at once by shouthig "Scofield's
goat." Youngladies, too. knew Scofleld's
goat, and never wore red, a color which
annoyed him.
Scotleld says he has spent more than $2o
for ropes to tie the goat up, but that be is
capable of eating a clothes line fifty feet
long within thirty days. Thedepredations
of this animal around Mr. Scofield's yard
and in his house have been very discour
aging. Not long ago he ate one of his mas
ter's gum shoes, and chewed a hole in a
new felt hat. Then he barked a favorite
quince bush, and broused all the branches
offa small pear tree-a new variety. Last
week he devoured an execution against a
threshing machine without disturbing his
stomach, and then ate all the batting out
of a bed-quilt that was hanging out of a
window. The next day when Scofield ar
rived home, he spied the goat on a shed
chewing.a sheep skin which he had just
dressed and spread out to dry. Scofield
tried to frighten the goat from the roof by
throwing sticks and stones at him; but
after breaking a pane of glass in a neigh
bor's house he decided to go up and help
him down. On reaching the top of the
shed the goat darted between Mr. Scofield's
legs, still clinging to the sheep skin. Sco
field sat down with the velocity of a can
non ball. The roof gave way and Mr.
Scofield fell into an empty potato barrel as
though he had expected a chair there to
receive him. The goat fell on a pile
of coal and then darted into the yard,
leaving Mr. Scofield struggling to get out
of the barrel. Just as he had almost
freed himself the barrel went to staves,
the ultimatum being that he reached the
ground still in a sitting posture and in a
very unsettled frame of mind except on
one point, and that was to sell that goat to
the first man who came along. " Yes, by
dad, that confounded goat must go-that
settles it," said Scofleld, as he clambered
to his feet, surveyed the surroundings, and
saw the goat in the fence corner still chew
ing the sheep skin.
On Friday, however, he sold the goat to
a Morrisania German for $5. On Satur
day the German called for his goat, with
a rope and a boy. The boy was assigned
to fasten the rope to the goat's horns.
The next minute the boy was clinging to
the limbs of an apple tree, and screaming
like a screech owl. The man then mount
ed the fence and lassoed the goat. Billy
went along well enough until be reached
the street. Then he set both fore feet
down that he would go no further. The
man tugged at the rope, but his goatship
was as firm as a pine stump. All at once
Billy lunged forward while the German
was pulling hard at the rope, and he fell
backward againsta gate and tumbled into
a neighbor's yard. Away went goat and
rope toward the village at high speed.
Billy had his dander up, and was in for a
sensation. The cry "There comes Sco
field's goat with fire in his eye," was start
ed, and all red substances vanished. As
he ran down the street he saw himself
in a looking-glass which was standing in
front of a furniture store, and mistaking the
reflection for another goat, he stopped,
looked wise, took deliberate aim with his
shaggy head and went through the glass,
emerging on the other side with his horns
entangled in the wires of a spring mattress
and his face covered with blood. The pro
prietor of the goat soon arrived, and tying
his legs, put him in a wagon and started
for home, saying : " I vix der goat ven I
gets him home."
Yesterday the German took the goat
back to Mr. Scofield and demanded his
money. He said, "I never see such a goat
like dat. I not keep such goats like him.
Iast night he butt my front fence down,
and yesterday he kill my dog dat I pays
$25 mit. Why you do not dell me degoat 1
he got some drieks, elh ?"
Mr. Scofleld informed the German that
he could not take the goat back, but the
owner left the animal there.
Mr. Scofield says that he will keep the
goat a few days and then take out an exo
cution against the German for boarding
the goat, and if the German don't pay the
bill he will sell the goat at auction.-N. F.
A xxw cereal has been grown in Oregon
wvhich has puzzled the farmers, as it is un
like any grain with which they are famil
Lar. From seven to ten stalks grow from
one root to a height of about four feet, and
these stalks, or straws, are thin and hard.
The radicals are tough and spread widely.
The head, are six Inches in length and
covered with a heavy beard, each filament
being five inches long. The grain is double
the length of a kernel of wheat, and, in
steadl of being firm and compact, is hollow,
the cavity containing glutinous m;natter.
While the grain bears acloser resemblance
to wheat than to anything else, the straw
looks more like that of rye or harley. Its
origin is somewhat peallhar, the first grain
having Iw·,n taken fronm the stomach of a
wild goose by a farmer in Tillamook coun
tv nearly thrree years ago. He was struck
with its appearance, and planted it, and the
succeeding season sowedthe product. He
dictribuMted a portion of the second crop
among a few friends in different parts of
the State, who this year raised small quan
titles. It will require another year to de
termine the value of the grain.
Tax earthquake which destroyed the
town ofSlmods, in Japan, in 1854, was a
companied by an immense sea-wave which
sweeping over that reion, was recorded
on the self-reglsterigtlde. aures at San
Prancisco dandn Igo. rhiis wave oo
copied about nine hours in crossing the
Pacific Ocean from west to east; and Pro
fesor Rache deduced-the mean depth of
the water as somewhere between twelve
and fifteen thoauandl feet.
THa Brunuwseker says that a print
that oftice had such a badcold that he dis
tributes all the "n's" into the "d" box.
A MISSIONARY among the freedmen in
Tennessee, after relating to some little cal
ored children the story of Ananias and
Sapphbira, asked them why God does not
strike everybody dead that tells a lie, when
one of the least in the room quickly ans
wered. " Because there wouldn't be any
body left."
Tau Professor of Natural Philosophy in
a certain college recently gave the class a
problem to think of during the night, and
answered the next day. The question was
this : " If a hole were bored through the
center of the earth, from side to side, and
a ball dropped into it, what motions would
the ball pass through, and where would it
come to a state of rest?" The next morn
ing a student was called up to solve the
problem. " What answerhave you to give
to the question?" asked the professor.
" Well, really," replied the student, "I
have not thought of the main question, but
of a preliminary one. How are you going
toget that hole bored through?'
Wa have a reular little George Wash
ington in our neighborhood, but his moth
er don't act her part well at all. A few
evenings ago our little hero tried the edge
of his little axe upon the nasal organ ot
his mother's favorite cat, and completely
demolished the smelling apparatus of the
innocent feline. The cat expired, and he
carefully concealed his victim in the meal
barrel, where it was resurrected late In the
evening by the old woman, who was get
ting meal for supper. She called George
andquestioned him. George hung down
his head, and said, "Mother, L eaat tell a
lie you know I can't; but I'll be swizzard
if I can tell you the truth about this little
aflkir." ,H's mother said, "Come across
my lap, my son; come aross my lap."
And he come. The little fellow had been
sitting in the dust, and they say it is a fact
that that old lady has not got all the dust
out of her eyes yet.-FalmouthA Indeped
Oua people ought not encourage extrav
agancein these times of general financial
depression, yet a man exhibiting a luxuri
ous and elegant milking-stool of black
walnut in front of the post-office the other
day, kept an interested and symp sthetic
crowd about him for an hour. It was a
sort of easy-chair milking-tool-a nice
seat for the operator, a swing-shelf for the
milk pail, and a slotted standard in which
to secuse the cow's tail, with a sliding rod
to shoot the tail out when the milking Is
done. The pail shelf slhuts up like a Jack
knife blade when the pall is removed, and
the operator marches off with the stool
under one arm and the pall of milk In the
other hand, leaving the cow too surprised
to remonstrate. It is too elegant for a
milking-stool, but is just the thing for a
smoking chair, the shelf being admirably
adapted to hold a spi-cuspidor, and the
shooting rod to ram home the tobacco,
provided one uses a pipe, or to knock off
the ashes if one smokes Partagas. But
black walnut is extravagant for a milking
stool.-Danbury News.
About Dyspepsia.
Did you ever have the dyspepsia ? Did
you ever have-or, imagine you had-a
complication of all known, and several
unknown, diseases? If yes, then you
have had the dyspepsia or its full equiva
lent. Chronic dyspepsia may be defined
as an epitome of every complaint where
with transgressing mortality is scocrged.
It is as nice a thing to have about you as
a trunkful of tarantulas, with the trunk
lid always up. An eminent English phy
sicia b said, "A man with a bad dys
pepelsa is villai." He is, and worse.
e is by turns a fiend, a moral monster,
and a physical coward-and he cannot
help it. He is his own bottomless pit, and
his own demon at the bottom of it, which
torments him continually with pangs hn
When a worm of the business dast of
this world has writhed with the dyspepsia
until it has assumed a virulent chronic
form, who shall find colors and abilities
enough to paint his condition ? His blood
becomes first poverty-stricken, then Im
pure, and, as " blood will tell,"every part
of his system is contaminated by the foul
stream. The brain complains bittey on
its own account, and vehement complalnts
are being continually sent up to It from
the famishing liver, bowels, spleen, heart
and lungs. Like "sweet bells Jangled
out of tune," the entire organisation
breathes discords. Even the remote toes
telegraph up to the brain, " We are starv
ing down here; send down more proven
der." The brain makes requisitions on
the stomach, which are futile. The stom
ach is powerless to provide, and the brain
can not transmit. At times all the starv
ing organs conspire together, suspend
work, and undertake to compass by riot
what they fall to get by appeal. Then lfe
trembles in the balance. Then the conso
lation-O, theconsolation !--that is visited
upon the dyspeptic. Friends-when he
is lifeless from want of vitality-friend.
will exasperate him with taunts of being
"lazy," "shiftless," '" iodolent," and
"without ambitilon !" Nor can his friends
be made to appreciate that it is as prepo
terous to expect one who is updergoing
constant torture and conseqnent eie'
tioato have " ambition," as it would be to
ezeet a corpse to have an appetite.
Vlemedy: everybody's advice-that is,
ride everybody's hobby. Cure: death.
Drugs are but aggravations, and "bitters"
are bitter, indeed! We have heard of a
chronic dyspeptk: who took his cue f'om
his chickens, and, by swallowing daily
a moderate hartnlful of gravelstones of the
size of a pea downward, fIlnally succeeded
in transforming "cue" into "cure." lie
elimtd comple~'testoration. In the face
of this evidence to the contrary, we reas
sert that for chronle dyspeplsia in its worst
form there is but one certain cure-abso
late rest. .Preventive: take as good care
of the cost of your stomach as you do of
the crttofyour back. Do you wish for
faith in God, In human love, in earthly
happinm, In the benfceace of Nature,
and in immortality? Keep your digesion
vigorous; on that huang all of these.
Sould you prefer an abiding faith in tor
treas unspeakable, tin horrons tbspret
ble? Destroy your digestion. Would
you live in the body forever? Keep your
digestion at full vigor; and, althonugh
the end of the werkl may come, your end
will not come-you will have to go alter
It. Old age is but the failure of nutrition.
Nutrition  ie ; non-nutrition is Death.
-9nQlnd t.. y.

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