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EMMONS COUNTY RECORD. WILLIAM3FORT, DAKOTA. D. H. STREETEB, I'UllLISHBB. THE CHILDREN. A Bold Hunter. Once bravo littlo boy went a-gmtming, His weapon clasped tight In his arms. "I'm anxious," said he, "Dreadful monsters to see, Bnoh on fill other boys with a arm, Beasts that roar as they run, 19-ould think it but fun, They wonld run all the faster from me Beasts that sit still and smile. When I'd been there awhile, Very much less amused they would be, Ah, you'd see How much less amused they would be! I'm a wonderful hunt: in every way 1" Said the bold littlo boy that went gunning tha4 day. So bravely the little boy started, But ere ho ha:l raveled a mile, On the edgo of the wood A De Gustll.us stood, With a gentle, expansive smile.' Then the 1 tt!e boy's hair Stood on end with despair: And be cried: "Oh, I had no id a A Do Gustlbus coul'', On the edge of a wood, Look so very uncommonly queer! Dear, oh dear, He does look so remarkable queer! Do you think that he sit* ho cv ry day And smile at each hunter that comes t'.iis way?" The De Gnstibus smiled, as he murmured: "Oh, come, my bold hunt r, wi'.hme, I've a friend that can run And roar gently for lun, A friond you'll b: glad, drar, to see, As for me Iean smile, Sit beside me awhile, An I'll smile in a wonderful wnv My brave hunter, don't go, One might iancy, you know, That you thought abont runninz away! Stay, dear, stay, Don't think about running away. Oh, come, lot us travel, my friend to see Oh, come, my bold hunter, oomo roaming with mel" But the little boy, hurriedly anBw.red: "I think I won't travol to-day, I should so like to go. But I'm tirod, you know, For I've como suoh a very long way Anel th'.n besides that, I've got on an o'd ha\ And my gun and that never would do. To start out to call, Or go roaming, all, Most beautiful creature, with you! So—adieu!" And ths ilttle boy vanished from view! Yes, he hastily vanished from view, "111 travel no moro with a gun," said he, "This hunting's a business that don't suit me." And still the De Gustlbus sits there, they say, And smiles at each hunter that eomes that way! —Mva F. L. Carson, in St Nicholas. The Selfish Girl. .r/f/., I know two little sisters •whoso names arpjlda and Jennie. Ida is seven yeara-dli3, and is a very kind, good girl. "Jennie ia five years old. She is cross and selfish, and always doing some thing to teasei some one. Everybody loves Ida, and all of her playmates like to have her go to see them. But when Jennie visits any of her playmates she is always getting, into trouble, and they are glad when she goes home. When ever presents are sent to those little girls, Jennie is afraid that her sister •will get something better than she re ceives. A visitor once gave her a silver dime and Ida a nickel five-cent piece. As soon as Jennie saw that her sister's piece of money was larger than-hers, she was sulky and began to pout. So Ber sister exchanged with her, and they •went to the store to spend their money. Then she was cross again becanse the storekeeper gave her sister more for the small piece of money than he gave her for the larger piece. One day these little girls' father brought them two fine-looking peaches. One of them was rather smaller than the other, and had a. little speck on it. "Perhaps I ought to give Ida her choice," said the father, "since she is older than her sister." "No, I want my choice," cried Jennie* "I want the larger one." And she eager ly snatched it from her father's hand. He then gave the other one to Ida. When they sat down to eat their peaches, Ida found hers sweet and juicy but Jennie's was so sour and bitter that she had to throw it away. When Ida saw$hat Jennio's peach was not fit to eat, she was about to offer her half of her own, but her father said, "No Jennie must go without, as a re ward for being so selfish." Those who try to get the best of everything gener ally fare the worst in the end.—Our Little Ones. Ztetier and Spirit* Widow Lorton's poar trees were the admiration of the neighborhood—trees -of all sizes and shapes, upright, spread ing, pyramidal, globular. They bore pears for all seasons, to whose delicious ness many invalids and absent ones tes tified. The flavor of her "Bergamots," the beauty of her "Sheldons," the wealth of her "Bello Lucratives" were extolled by all. Mrs. Lorton had an enthusiastic fond ness for her fruit trees, but she loved her bright little grandsons, who came to eat their fruit, with an effection be* lore which that for the pear trees must "hide-its diminished head." present pet among her trees was •iU an 'Annie Joamut,' which seemed di ,^k xainutive ,.when compared with the &! v. id:.-..-. 1 hii larger trees, but was in its way, for summer fruit, much to be prized. Now, just as five pears on this small tree were nearly ripe, came to visit Mrs. Lorton her youngest grandchild and greatest pet, Master Harry For dyce. He was soon acquainted with all, from old Dido, who had como with Mrs. Lorton many years age, down to Bess, the Alderney, and Didley the cat. He thoroughly roconnoitered the premises and knew all about those orioles in the orchard, and hac^ seen the white eggs in the humming bird's dow ny nest. Nor was he lacking in horticultural lore. It was his opinion that the "Annie Joamut" pears were fair to look upon. "Must not be picked," grandma said but he thought he might look at them. Oh, yes! and he might walk around the tree, and he might count them over and over. But he would not pick them, not he indeed! Ah how lovely it looked up there! So shady, and it seemed so breezy, too. There was a little place just big enough for him to sit in, between the green leaves. He wondered if it was any higher than that pole he climbed at home. If he might just try. "Mek haste, Miss Lorton, don't you be skeered now, but mek haste He're's dis yere chile, in dat tree, I clare, he be eatin' up all the little Arnie Jo's I" called Dido, in great haste. And sure enough, up there in the co sy green nest, with the blue sky above, was our hero! Each chubby hand grasped a branch firmly, while with very bright eyes and rosy, distended cheeks, he stooped, and sucked, and ate the last of the five pears, taking good care not to dislodge the stem. The others had vanished, saving the four disroved cores which, with the stems, clung faithfully to the tree! "Oh, sho!" exclaimed Aunt Dido, placing her arms akimbo, with turban askew, head thrown back, and mouth apart. "Oh, sho I If young Mass' Har ry don't beat all I ever 'sperienced! He's chawing 'em all, ebery one, but he berry keerful to leave the cores. Oh' now, Miss Lorton, take it aisy. It's ouldDibbil a-temptin' Massa Harry!" "It may be the devil tempting him, but it is Harry eating," answered her mistress. Evening—Grandmamma walks in the piazza. "Harry," pointing to the little tree on the lawn. "Do you know who took my pears?" "I never picked them, grandma." "But you ate them Harry. You dis obeyed me, and took what was nofi yours, which was stealing." "No, no, grandma," persisted Harry, "I never picked them. I only ate them, and you said I must not pick them." "But they are just as really gone from me, Harry, as if you had picked them." Finding that Harry resisted all ef forts for his enlightenment, his grand mother at length said, "Harry, you know you have done wrong and now I will tell you what you have lost. On Thursday, your birthday, I would have taken you to visit little Willie Gordon, who lives in that charming place where you saw the beautiful pony. I wanted to take those pears to his mother who is an invalid. Willie would have been glad to see you and you would have had a lovely time. Now, I shall go alone." At this, Harry gave a great sol», but was speechless, knowing well that he deserved a greater punishment. Then Mrs. Lorton talked faithfully to him, and showed him plainly how one might keep the letter and neglect the spirit of a law. She told him how "Our Father" looks right in upon the heart, and knows all the intentions as well as actions. Indeed, Harry became truly sorry for what he had done, and proved so trust worthy and considerate that Mrs. Lor ton greatly delighted in him as one upon whom she could always rely.— Good Cheer. THE WOLF AND THE HAEE. A Wolf one day stopped a Hare in a public path and said "Come, now, I want a candid expres sion: of opinion. Am I not a better looking animal than the Fox?" "To be honest about it, you are riot,'' replied the Hare. "Ah! then you insult me 1 Take that —and that—and that 1" The poor Hare was knocked down and rolled over and cuffed about, and her life was saved only by her superior fieetness. Moral. It is better to agree- with a Wolf near at hand than to praise a Fox five miles away.—Detroit Free Press. To SPEND too much time in studies is sloth to use them too much for orna ment is affeotation to make judgment wholly by their rules is the hume of the scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected by experience.—Bacon. KEEPS maker. pegging away the boot- 4* s, V* V* s-^a.vJT & THE BAD BOY.: "Hello, where you been?" said the grocery man to the bad boy, as he came along with an old-fashioned oilcloth carpet-bag, with one handle gone, and a tired look on the carpet-bag and the boy, as though they had just returned from a journey. "Haven't seen you in here for two weeks, and I began to think you had been abducted, or mys teriously disappeared. Tou look sick." /"Oh, I am not sick, but tired and sleepy and hungry. I wish yon would cut me off a cheese-rind, or give me a herring-skin, or anything," said the bad boy, as he dropped the carpet-bag on the floor and dropped onto a half bushel measure and closed his eyes. "We are just on the way from the depot, and pa has left me to carry this old carpet-sack, and he has gone up the alley to climb over the back fence, cause he wore his boots out on the railroad ties coming up from the Chi cago convention." "What! Had to walk back!" said the groceryman, as he handed the boy a generous slice of cheese with a spot of green mold on the under side. "I should suppose your pa had influence enough to get a pass, or borrow money to get home with, if he got busted." "That's what pa thought," said the boy, as he made a camel's track in the piece of cheese, and then, making up a face at the moldy mouthful, reached into a cracker barrel to get some crack ers to take the taste out. "But bor rowing was played out the second day. Pa lent money for two days, and then had to borrow, but they had all quit lending when pa's turn came to bor row. Gosh, but pa and I are out of politics from this out. Pa says he will never vote again. He says the country is all gone to the dogs." "Well, what was your pa down there for, anyway? He wasn't a delegate, was he?" asked the groceryman. "No, pa was only an assistant dele gate, and I was pa's assistant," said the boy, as he gathered in groceries and provisions with both hands, and ate as though he had fasted for several days. "You see, the politicians have been playing it on pa for six months. They get him to work in ward politics by encouraging him to think he is an important factor in the country's af fairs. He wanted to be a delegate, and they encouraged him, but he got beat, and then they told him he had better go as an assistant delegate. They told him that delegates did not amount to anything without some smart fellows to tell them how to vote, and what .they wanted was a lot of outsiders to go along and brace up the dele gates, and 'whoop-it-up.' There is nothing that pa likes any better than to whoop-it-up, and he took me along to give me an insight into politics and parry the sachel. I don't want any more insight into politics. I have had jnsight enough to last me until I am 21. Pa told me, all the way down to Chicago,' what an important position it was to be assistant delegate, and how much depended upon clear-headed out siders, who really managed the whole business. I expected they would carry pa on their shoulders. There was a band at the depot, and pa pulled up his collar, and pulled down his vest, and looked around as much as to say, 'watch me now,' and I thought he was going to make a speech, when the crowd walked right over him, and,his fiat come off and rolled under a and somebody picked it up and left an old dirty hat on the ground. Pa was mad, but when the crowd got away that was all the hat there was, and pa took it and gave it to me, and he took mine. It was too small for pa, but it made him look as though he had a great big head, and so I didn't kick. We went to a hotel, and a man grabbed the sachel, and told pa to go to room 1250, and pa was tickled, 'cause he thought a room had been saved for him. Then a fellow came along and said for the delegates to put on badges. Pa took a badge and put it on, and he looked proud, and a fellow he used to know asked him for $5 till he could see the chairman of the delegation. Pa tgok out his pocket-book and let him have it, and before he got the pocket-book in his pocket another fellow asked him for change for a ten, and pa handed it to him, and the crowd closed in so tight pa- could not find the man to get the ten. Then we went to find our room, and wandered around the hotel until we 'found»there were only 600 rooms, and no such room as twelve-fifty, and a porter told us to get out. Pa kicked because he couldn't get his satchel, and a big fellow took him by the neck and led him out on the sidewalk. Pa said he would make 'em smart for that, and then we tried to hunt up the rest of the delegates, but no delegate would have anything to do with pa, and they all laughed at him except the colored delegates, and they wouldn't do any thing only drink with. pa. They laughed so much at pa's badge that I took a good look at it, and found that it was an advertisement for plug tobacco printed on satin with fringe on it. Pa was mad when he found it out, but he couldn't find the delegate that gave it V'ft ,4*' .fi 'K *%:/$.' fc,J iff ,} to him. Well, we went to a restaurant and tried to get something to eat, and all we could get was bread, and pa had his pocket picked, and we couldn't get a place to sleep, and walked around town all night. Pa got a little sleep by spelling a policeman, but I didn't sleep a wink. Half the night there were dele gations marching around with bands, and pa would fall in behind, and the delegate at the rear of the procession would drive him away. In the morn ing we went over to the depot and bor rowed fifty cents of a conductor that pa knew, 'who goes to our church, and then we got coffee for breakfast, and started for the convention. We couldn't get within four blocks of the building, and didn't have no tickets, and they drove us out of the line. Pa found one of the men who encouraged hi™ ta go to the convention, and tried to get t» ticket, but the man told pa to go over on the lake front, back of the Expos! tion Building, and he would bring him a ticket. We went over there and stayed four hours, and the man never came. Pa got thirsty, and followed a crowd into a saloon to take a drink with them, and the bar-tepder fired him out. O, it was one continual round of pleasure. Pa was discouraged, and said we would go to the hotel and get our satchel and go home, so we went there and asked for the satchel, and the porter threw this old satchel at pa's head. It was one somebody had tried to get board on, and there was nothing in it, but pa took it. He said it would look better to travel with a satchel. So we got enough convention and went over and got on a freight train, and the conductor put us off at Evanston, and we walked to the next station and got on another, and was put off, and we kept it up, off and on, till we gol here. Say, I think politics is a fraud, don't you?" "That is the way I have always looked at politics," said the groceryman, and the bad boy got up to go out, saying, "I am a little interested in knowing how pa will explain this business to ma* He has been making her believe he was high up in politics, and to come home in this way will be sure to arouse her suspicions," and the boy hobbled out with the satchel in his hand and a stone bruise on his heel—Peck's Sun. THIS LAW OF LIBEL. The Salem (Mass.) News published matter attacking the City Marshal. The Marshal sued. The Judge said: "It is the duty of the proprietor of a public paper which may be used for the pub lication of improper communications to use reasonable caution in the conduct of his business that no libels be pub lished, and he is criminally liable for a libelous publication therein, unless the publication was made under such' cir cumstances as to negative any presump tion of privity, of connivance, or want of ordinary precaution on his part to prevent it. It may be true that the defendant had no knowledge of this specific article, and was not present when it was presented for publication, nor when it was published: He is still criminally liable for its publication un less he used reasonable care and caution in the conduct of his business to pre vent such publication. The jury must be satisfied beyond a reasonable doubt that the libelous article was published by the defendant intentionally or through some want of ordinary care and caution on his part in the conduct of his business. If the jury are satisfied that the defendant published the libel ous article intentionally, or that it was published in his paper through his want of ordinary care and caution in the conduct of his business as publisher, they a».'e to consider whether the state ments of the article were true. If the truth of the article is established as claimed by the defendant.it is a perfect and complete defense, unless express malice in the publication is shown— malice in the popular sense of hatred and ill-will—but in no event can proof of malice take the place of proof of the publication itself. It is entirely im. material whether the defendant had malice toward the Marshal, or how in tense hatred and ill-will he may have entertained, unless it is established that the defendant published the article in tentionally or through undue care on his part." \y 'Hr' A BURDEN LIFTEiO. He was a depositor in a Rochester savings bank. He entered the institu tion the other morning and timidly in quired: "Is the cashier in the city?" "Oh, yes he's at his window." "And is the treasurer around?" "He is." "And the president?" "The president is in his office." "Has the bank been speculating in oil, wheat, cotton, or mines?" "No, sir." "And if I was to present my book, could I draw the $41 have on deposit?" "You could." "Well, that takes a great burden off my mind," sighed the stranger, as he walked out with greatly improved looks. CHICAGO S chalk milkman named yw sf itTOHN G. SAXE'S JOKE. Uote He'Flayed Countryman and Aston ished an Editor. Mr. Saxe had long been a contributor to the Knickerbocker, and a corre spondent of its editor before he and that editor met. One day Lewis Gay lord Clark was seated in his library, hard at work, when a stranger opened the door and entered unannounced. He was a large man, whose thick boots and modest raiment were covered with country dust, "Hello, Clark," he said, "how air you? How's the folks Wot's Hew?" Clark, who was the pink of courtesy, arose, bowed Stiffly and begged the stranger to be seated. "Wal, old feller, how'er yer bin?" resumed the visitor after he had taken a seat "Look rayther yaller 'bout the dewlap." Not bin' h'istin' too much gin and pep permint, I hope—eh?" "Sir!" answered Clark with dignity, "may I inquire whom I have—" "How's Clara and the young folks "Sir!" All the time the stranger was pro pounding these kindly inquiries he was pdging his chair bit by bit closer and closer to Mr. Clark, who, beginning to get quite nervous, was vainly trying to keep his distance by the same system of tactics. "Well, Old Hoss, I'm taighty glad to see yer. Give us a grip of yer potato rake"—extending his own hand cordially, and then bringing it down with a thump on the writing table, which made the pens and ink and all the little articles of virtu jump again. "Say, Lewis, I feel dry. You hain't got no rum round the shanty, hev yep? No I bet you've bin and soaked it all up yerself, you old sinner," and here he poked Clark in the ribs with the end of a piece of shrubbery which stood to him in case of a cane, at the same time advancing his chair two hitches on Clark's left- flank. "But, say, Clark, 111 tell you wot you lend me a quarter and I'll run up to that gin mill on the corner and get yer bottle filled, then well hev a quiet, sociable time together. What d'ver say Is it a deal?" Here the stranger threw himself back in his chair, and, raising one of his huge dusty boots, laid it confidingly on Clark's knee. "Sir," said Clark, jump ing to his feet, "I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance,, and must, there fore, beg you to leave my house, as both my privacy and my time are of value to me." Again the stranger threw himself back in his chair, and, laughing hearti ly, exclaimed: "Excuse my joke, Mr. Clark, but I am John G. Saxe. I thought we had known each other long enough by correspondence and ought to make each other's acquaintance person ally, so I have just taken a run down the river to see you." When Clark had recovered from his first astonishment he shook his old contributor cordially by the hand, and tradition says they "made a night of it."—Hartford Cou rant. THE MARKET FOE ALLIGATORS. A Florida correspondent writes: From a commercial point of view the alligator is a regular bonanza. There has been within the past three years a craze for a'ligator-skin articles of all kinds. The leather is used in making card-cases, pocket-books, gripsacks, /shoes and slippers and belts, and an ar ticle made of this material is well-nigh indestructible. A dozen years ago alli gator-skin was tanned as a novelty now there are half a dozen firms in the United States engaged in tanning alli gator hides exclusively. It is a most beautiful leather, and as no two akina are marked alike, is additionally valua ble. In Paris and London this novelty is increasing steadily in popular favor, and one firm in Florida is now engaged in filling a large order for jewelry made from alligators' teeth, which resemble the most beautiful ivory. It has been estimated that 400,000 alligators were tilled last year in order to supply the demand for leather. The negroes kill the creatures and get from twenty to fifty cents each for the skins, according to size and quality. The storekeeper who buys the skin from the negro gets from $1 to $2 for it, making a handsome profit. A skin six feet long is considered the best, but they come in all sizes, from two to eighteen feet. A TYPOGRAPHICAL ERROR. Ella Wheeler wrote it thus: They said, You love too largely, and you must. Through wound and wound grow bitter to your kind." The intelligent compositor substi tuted the word "kid" for "kind," and after Ella got through "larruping" him with the handle of her gingTiqn) nm brella he went out into the bleak, cold world, a homeless wanderer upon the face of the earth.. Such is life and still we linger.— Carl Pretzel's Weekly. A MIND well provided to engage in the defense of the truth will calmly stand the shock of false opinions, hav ing premeditated all that can be al leged against truth, by the confidence that, knowledge inspires, and compre hending the objections and difficulties which may be presented, they are pre pared with ideas that have often tri umphed over whatever is false. better than a wink to AN oat is blind horse. ii. PRECICINRIDGE'.S EXPULSION PROX THE SENATE. Among the earliest acts at the next session was the expulsion of M* Breck inridge from the Senate. It was done in a manner which marked the full strength of the popular disapprobation of his course. The Senators from the rebellious States had all been expelled at the July session, but without the ap plication of ,an opprobrious epithet. .There had also been a debate as to whether expulsion of the persons or a mere declaration that the seats were vacant was the proper course to be1 pursued by the Senate. Andrew John son maintained the latter, and all the Democratic Senators except McDougall of California, voted with him. But in the case of Mr. Breckenridge there was. not a native vote, his own colleagtie, Powell, remaining silent in his seat, five Democratic Senators joined in the vote for his expulsion. The resolution, grafted by Mr, Trumbull, was made as offensive as possible, cruelty declaring that "John C. Breckinridge, the traitor jbeand is hereby expelled from the Senate." The mutation of public opinion is striking. Mr. Breckinridge lived to be come a popular idol in Kentucky. Long before his death (which occurred in 1875, in his 54th year) ho could have had any position in the gift of his State. If his political disabilities could have been removed, he would undoubt edly have returned to the Senate. His support did not come solely from those who had sympathized with the South, but included thousand who had been loyally devoted to the Union. He pos sessed a strange, facinating power over the people of Kentucky—as great as that which had been wielded by Mr., Clay, though he was far below- Mr. Clay in intellectual endowment. No man gave up more than he when he united his fortunes with the seceding States. If he had remained loyal, no prize would have been beyond his grasp. It was his sense of personal fidelity to the Southern men who had. been faithful to him that blinded him to the higher 6bligation of fidelity to h» country, and to the higher apprecia tion of self-interest which is insepara bly bound up with duty. He wrecked a great career. He embittered and shortened a life originally devoted to noble aims, and in its darkest shadows filled with generous impulses.—Blaine's Twenty Years in Congress. HE HAD A JOKE. "Do those alligators bite?" inquhed a man with hair the color of a gosling, as he poked his nose around the corner of the door. "Not very often," replied the editor. "Are you armed?" asked the light haired man. "No, we never go armed." "Are you in a pretty good humor?" "First-rate, first-rate," replied the editor, who smelled a spring poem, and quietly drew the poker up where he could reach it to throw. "Well, now, I just thought would drop in and see you. I have a little—" "Walk right in," said the editor, who wanted to get the man in range, The man walked in, as requested, /i "I want to give you a joke." ,J' "All right, what is it?" "It is this: You must first say some thing about a man who oared for nothing outside of horses. "Yes." "And then say that to him life waa but a span—meaning, you know, a span of horses, and then—" But the gosling-haired man jumped for the stairway, and left behind him a ripple of fiendish laughter that haunted the building for the rest of the day.— Puck. THE KIND OF A RAISE HE GOT. "Hello, Henderson," said Mr. Great heart to his friend, "I hear your salary has been raised." "Yes," replied Renders on. "How much are you getting now?" queried the philosopher. "Seventy-five dollars a month," was the answer. "Seventy-five dollarsamonth!" ejacu lated Mr. Greatheart. "Why, before you were getting a hundred." "Yes, I kaow. The raise I got is spelled with a z." Mr. Greatheart drank a gin fizz, and Mr. Henderson took a little bitters in his.—Washington Hatchet. TO MAKE A PRETTY STAND. Get an old stand, like those onr grandmothers.- had, sand-paper and varnish it get crimson plush, out a cir cular piece, draw it over the stand, and neatly tack it down underneath then go to the cabinet makers' and get furni ture fringe—plush will be most suitable for this—of different shades, with a bright edge. Get brass-headed taoks and nail the fringe around the stand. It may be ornamented with gold leaf, if desired, afte# the varnish is nearly dry. AN UNSOLVED CONUNDRUM. How is it that girls can always tell a married man from a single one Wheth er it is a certain subdued look, snch as, that which characterizes the lions in a menagerie, and distinguishes them from the lords of the desert, we cannot tell but the truth is so, wc A f. Vi* •pi# W V&h '*,0 if\t & •j I Hi '.V