Independence Daily Reporter from Independence, Kansas • Page 2

"Thon wo all go homo, for thanks What Time la It. This is an era of oheap clooks. Man FACT AND FANOY. Tho ofliolal census of Prussia sho a population of 28,318, 458 persons. A two-pound nuggot of virgin got has been found In Transylvania count! T.

g. BIOKELS, Proprietor. INDEPENDENCE, KANSAS. i I. JJ 1 PERSONS AND EVENTS.

A man was fined $5 for calling another a puppy in a Canadian town the other day, An Ohio damsol is said to have received ninety-nine offers of marriage during the past two years. GIVING THANKS. 'Ilia (frul la garnered In, Tlio apples ripe are stored, The yellow pumpkins gleam among The farmer's treasured hoard. Tho oarth li brown and bare, That once was green and gay; Where regal autumn charmed the eye, Dead leaves bestrow tho way. Though clouds bo dark n'erhead, With wind and unshed rain, Tlio good which once hat crowned tho earth Will mako It bloom again.

Then let thank our God, For prlng-tlme soft and fair For April ralu and Mayday sun And June's dullcluui air, For July showers and hont, For dreamy August hnie, For cool September's purplo fields, For glad October days. For dull November skies, And barns with harvest filled, We thank Thee, Lord, who richly blessed The land Thy servants tilled. Tlio year to como It Thine, Thou knotrest what will bo; Bend ruin and dew, aud n-lud and sun, As scemcth best to Thoe. AMI F. Judi.

ingly, "seems now as it I could seo us all at breakfast. Tho rauo on tho pond has made us hungry, ami inothor says sho nover knew nnybody ciso's boys that had such capacities aS hers. It is the Yankee Thanksglvin' bronkfast sausages an' fried potatoes, an' buckwheat cakes an' sirup maplo sirup, mind yo, for father has his own sugar bush and thero was big run o' sap last season. Mother says: 'Ezra an' Amos, won't you novor got through eatln'P We want to dear off the table, for thero's pies to mako, an' nuts to crack, and laws sakos alive! the tnrkoy's got to be stnffod yll! Thon how we all fly round. Mother sends Helon up into the attlo to got a squash whllo Mary's a raakln' tho pio-erust Amos an' I crack tho walnuts thoy call 'em hickory nuts out in tho posky country of saga brush and pasturo land.

Ev'ry onoo 'n a while one on 'em slips outer our fingers an' goos dancin' over tho floor or flies into tho pan Iloion Is squoozin' pumpkin into through the colander. He I on says we're shif'loss an' good for nothln' but frlvolin'; but mother tolls us how to craok the walnuts so's not to lot 'em fly all over the room, an' so's not to be all jammed to ploocs liko tho walnuts were down at tho party at the Poosloy's lust winter. An' now here comes Tryphona Fostor, with her glnglinm gown an' muslin apron on; hor folks have gone up to Amhurst for Thanksgivin', and Try-phena has come over to help our folks get dinner. Sho thinks a great deal of mother, 'cause mother toadies hor Sunday-school class an' says Tryphona ought to marry a missionary. Tliore is bustle everywhere, the rattle of the pans an' the clatter if the dishes, an' tho new kitchen stove begins to warm up an' git red till Helen loses her wits an' is flustorod, an' says she nover could git the hang o' that stove's dampers.

"An' now," said Ezra, gently, as a tone of docpor reverenco cropt Into bis voice. "I can seo father sittin' all by himself in tho parlor. Father's hair is very gray, and tboro are wrinkles on his honest old face. He is lookin' through tho window at the Uolyoke hills over yondor, nnd I can guess he's thinkin' of tho timo when he wuz a boy like mo an' Amos, an' usetor climb over thorn hills an' kill rattlesnakes an' hunt partridges. Or doesn't his eye qulto reach the Uolyoke hills? Do thoy fall kinder lovingly but sadly on the buryin' ground jest beyond the villago ah, father knows that spot an' he loves it, to, for there are treasures thoro whose memory he wouldn't swap for all the world could give.

So, while thero is a kind o' mist In father's eyes, I can see he is dreamin'-like of swcot an' tender things, nnd a coramuniu' with memory hcarin' voices I nover hoard, on' fecliu' the touch of hands I never pressedan' scein' father's peaceful faoo I find it bard to think of a Thanksgivin' sweeter than father's is. "Tho piutur' in tho firelight changes now," said Ezra, "an' seems as if I wuz in the old frame meet in' liouso. The nine tin' house is on the hill, and mcetin' begins halt pas' ton. Our pew is well up in front seems as if I could seo it now. It has a long rod cushion on the seat, and in tho hymn-book rack there is a Biblo and a couple of psalmodys.

We walk up tho aisle slow and mother goes in first then comes Mary, then me, tliuu Helen, then Amos, and then father. Father thinks it is jest as well to have one o' the girls set in between me an' Amos. The mcetin' house is full, for every body goes to roeotin' on Thanksgivin'. The minister reads the proclamation an' makes a prayer, an1 then he gives out a psalm an' wo all stan' up an turn 'round nn' join the choir. Sam Merritt has come up frotn Palm or to speud Thanksgivin' with the ol' folks, an' ho is singin' tenor to-day in his ol' place in tho choir.

Somo folks say he sings wonderfully well, but I don't like Sam's voico. Laura sings soprano in the choir, and Sara stands next to her an' holds the book. "Seems as if I could hear tho minister's voice full of earnestness an mol-ody, comiu' from way up in his little round pulpit. Ho is tellin us why wo should be thankful, an', ns he quotes scriptur' an' Dr. Watts, we boys wonder how anybody can remember so much of the Bible.

Then I get nervous and worried. Seems to me the minister was never comin' to lastly, and I find myself wonderln' whether Laura A HEARTY SEASON. A Kansas Farmer Dreams of New England Joys. Ezra had wrltton a letter to tho homo folks, and in it he had compluinod that nover before had ho spout such a weary, lonosome day as this Thanksgiving Day had boon. Having finished this lottor, he sat for a long timo gazing Idly into the open fire that snapped oindors all oVer the hoarthstono and sent its rod forks dancing up the chimnoy to join' tho winds that frolicked and gambolod across tho Kansas prairlo that raw November night.

It had rained hard all day and was eold, and, although tho open lire made every honest effort to bo cheerful, Ezra, as ho sat in front of it In tho wooden rocker and lookod down into the glowing embors, experienced a dreadful fueling of lonollness and homo-sickness. "I'm sick o' Kansas," said Ezra to himself. "Here I've been In this plaguey country for goln' on a yonr, and yos, I'm sick of it powerful sick of It. What a mlser'ble Thanksglvin' this has boon! They don't know what Thanksglvin' Is out this way. I wish I was back in ol' Mass'ohusetts that's tho country for mo, and they hov the kind o' Thanksglvin' I likoi' Musing In this strain, while the rain went patter-patter on the window-panes, Ezra saw a strange sight in the fireplaceyes, right among tho embers and the crackling flames Ezra saw strange, beautiful picture unfold and spread itsoif out like a panorama.

"How very wonderful!" murmured the young man. Yet ho did not take bis eyes away, for the pieture soothed bim, and be loved to look upon it "It is a piotor of long ago," said Ezra, softly. "I had like to forgot it but now it comes back to me as nat'ral like as an ol' friend. And I seem to be a part of it an' tho feel in' o' that time conios back with the picter, too. Ezra did not stir, his head restod upon his hand, and his eyes were fixed upon the shadows in the firolight "it is a picter of the ol' home," said Ezra to himself.

"I am back there in Bolchertown with the Uolyoke bills up north an' the Berkshire mountains a loomln' up gray an' misty-like in the Western horizon. Seems as if it wuz early mornin'; everything is still, and it is so cold when we boys crawl out o' bed, that if it wuzn't Thanksgivin' mornin', we'd crawl back again an' wait for motliet to call us. But it is Thanksglvin' mornin', an' we're goln' skntin' down on the pond. The squeal-in' o' the pigs has told us it is five o'clock, and we must hurry; we're going to call by for the Dickinson hoys an' Hiram Pcabody, an' we've got to hyper! Brother Amos gets on about half o' my clo'es and I get on 'iout half o' his, but it's all tho same; hey are stout, warm clo'es, and thoy're big enough to fit any of us boys-mother lookod out for that when sho made 'em. When we go down stairs we lind the girls there, all bundled up nice an' warm Mary an' Helen an' Cousin Iroue.

They're goln' with us, an' we all start out tiptoe and so'8 not to wake up the ol' folks. 1'ho ground Is frozen hard; we stub our toes on tho frozen ruts in the road. When we come to the minister's house, Laura is staudin' on the front stoop, a-waitin' for us. Laura is the minister's daughter. She's a friend o' Sislor Helen's pretty ns a dagarr' otype, an' gentle-like and tender.

Laura lets me carry her skates, and I'm glad of it although I havo my bands full already with the lantern, the hockies and the rest. Hiram Peabody keeps us wait-in', for he has overslept himself, an' when he comes trottin' out at last the gills make fun of him all except Sister Mary, an' she sort o' sticks up for Hiram, an' we're all so cute we kind o' calo'lato we know the reason why. "And now," said Ezra, softly, "the picter changes; seems as if I could see the pond. The ice is like a black look-in' glass, and Hiram Peabody slips up the first thing an' down he comes lick-ety split an' we all laugh except Sister Mary, an' she says it is very inp'lite to laugh at other folks misfortunes. Ough! how cold it is, and how my fingers ache with the frost when I take my mittens off to strap on Laura's skates but oh, how my cheeks burn! And ho careful I am not to hui Laura, an' how I ask her if that's tight and how she tells me jist a little and how we two keep fool in' along till the others hev gone an' we are left alone.

An' how quick I gel my own skates strapped on none o' yonr new-fangled skates with springs an' plates an' clamps an' such, but honest ol'-fashloned wooden ones with steel runners that curl up over my toes an' have brass buttons at the end! How I strap 'em and lash 'em and buckle 'em onl An' Laura waits for mo an' tolls me to be sure to get 'em on tight enough why bless mo, after I onoe got 'em strapped on. if them skates hed come off, the feet wud ha' come with 'em! An' now away we go Laura an' me. Around tho bend near the med-der where Si Barker's dog killed a Woodchuck last summer we meet the rest We forget all about the cold. We run races an play snap the whip, an' cut all sorts of didoes, an we never mind the pick'rel weed that is froze in on the ico an' trips us up every time we cut the outside edge, an' then we boys jump over the air-holes, an' the girls stan' by an' soream an' tell us they know we're agoin' to drowned ourselves. So the hours go an' it is sun-np at last, an' sister Helen says we must be gettin' homo.

When we take our skates off our feet feel as if they were wood. Laura has lost her tippet; I lend her mine an' she kind o' blushes. The old pond seems glad to bavo us go, and the fire-hangbird's nest in the wilier trees wave us goodbye. Laura promises to eome over to our house in the evenin', and so we break up." gepms WW." continued Egra, mus glvin' dlnnor is ready. Two long tables have been made into ono, an' ono of tbo ol' tablecloths cran'nia had when sho set up liouxkoopln' Is spread over 'em both.

Wo all set around father, motlior, Aunt Lydia Holbrook, Uncle Jason, Mary, Helen, Tryphona Foster, Amos and mo. How big an' brown tho turkoy is, and how good It smells! There are bounteous dishes of mashod pntutoo, turnip an' squash, and tho celery Is very wlilto and cold, tho blsouils are light an' hot and tho stewed cranberries are rod ns Laura's chooks, Amos and I got tho drumsticks; Mary wants tho wish-bono to put over the door for Hiram, but Holon gets It Toor Mary, sho always did havo to give up to 'rushln' Holon' as we call hor. The pies oh, what nios mother mokos; no dyspopsla In 'cm, but good naturo an' good hoalth an' hospitality! Pumpkin pics mince an apple, too an' then a big dish of pip pins an' russotts nn bellflowors, on' lost of all, walnuts with cider from tho Zobrlna Dickinson farm! I toll yo, there's a Thanksgivin' dinner for yo! That's what wo get iu old Belchertown, an' that's the kind of Uvin' that makes the Yankees so all-flrod good an' smartl "But tho bost of all," said Ezra, very softly to himself, "oh, yos, the best scene in all the plciur' is when evonin' comes, the neighbors como In, and whon thoro is muslo an singin' an' games. Au' its this part of the piotur' that makes me homesick now an' fills my heart with a longln' I never had beforean' yet It sort o' mellows an' oomfortsme, too. Miss Sorena Bid well, whose beau was killed in tho war, plays on the melodeon, an' wo all sing all on us; men, women-folks an children.

Sam Merritt is there, an' he sings a tenor song about love, Tho women sort of whisper that he Is goln' to be married to a Palmer nex' spring, an' I think myself I novor heard bettor singin' than Sam's. Then we play games proverbs, buzz, clap-ln-clap-out Copenhagen, focc-an' -geese, button-but-ton-whos'-got-the-button, spin the platter, go-to-Jerusalcm. my-shlp's-come-In and all the rest. The ol' folks play with the young folks just as nat'ral as can be, and we all laugh when Deacon Hosea Cowles hez to measure six yards of love ribbon with Miss Hepsy Newton, snd cut each yard with a kiss; for the deacon hez boon sort o' purrln' round for goln' on two years. Then, later on, when Mary an' Helen brings iu the cookies and nutcakes, cider and apples, mother says: 'I don't beliovo we'ro goin' to hev onongh apples to go 'round; Ezra, I guess I'll have to get you to go down-cellar for some Then I says: 'All right mother, Til go, pro-vldin' some ono'll go along an' hold the candle.

An' when I say this I look right at Laura an' sho blushes. Then Helen just for meanness, says: 'Ezry, I s'pose you ain't willin' to hnve you; fav'rite sister go down-cellar with yoi an' catch her death o' But Mary, who has been showin' Hiram Poabody the photograph album for more'n an hour, comes to the rescue an' makes Laura take tho candle, and sho shows Laura how to hold it so it won't go out "The cellar is warm an' dark. There are cobwebs all between the rafters, an' everywhere else except on the shelves where mother keeps the butter an' eggs an' other things that would freeze in the butt' ry up stairs. The apples are in bar'ls up against the wall, near tho potater-bin. How fresh an' sweet they smell I Laura thinks she sees a mouse an' trembles an' wants to jump up on tho pork bnr'l, but I tell her there sba'n't no mouse hurt her while I am around and I mean it too, for the sight of Laura a-trcmbling makes mo as strong as one of father's steers.

"What kind of applos do you like best, Ezry?" asks Laura; 'russets or groenin's or crow-eggs or bellflowers or baldwins or 'I likethe bald-wins best' says 'coz they've got red cheeks just like 'Why, Ezry Thompson! how you says Laura. 'You oughter be ashamed of But when I get the dish tilled up with apples there ain't a baldwin in the whole lot tiiat can compare with the bright rod of Laura's cheeks. An Laura knows it too, an' she sees the mouse again, an' screams, and then the candle goes out, and we are in a dreadful stow. But bein' almost a man, contrive to bear up under it and knowin' she is an orph'n, I comfort an' encourage Laura the best I know how, and we are almost up stairs when mother comes to the door and wants to know what has kep' us so long. Jest as If mother doesn't know! Of course she does; an' when mother kisses Laura good-bye that night there is in the act a tenderness that speaks more sweetly than even mother's words.

"It is so like mother," mused Ezra; "so like her with her gentleness an chongin' love. Hers is the sweetest picture of all, and hers the best love." Dream on Ezra; dream of the old homo with its dear ones, its holy in fluences and its preoious inspirations-mother. Dream on in the far-away firelight and as tho angel hand of memory unfolds these sacred visions, with the and them shall abide, like a divine oomforter, tho spirit of Thanks giving. Eugene Field, in Chicago News. Frame Houses the Safer.

One of the most romarkablo manifes' tations of our earthquakes was the utter destruction of massive brick buildings and the comparative immunity of frame houses. The explanation of this and a seemingly indisputable one is that an earthquake lacks the propulsive horizontal power of a tornado, while the upheval force Is so irresistible that weight counts for nothing in securing the safety of a building. Charleston News. The temperance department Is crowded oat of this wecit'i Connecticut Catholic by eight columns of advertised application! for licenses to sell mvm 7jie, ufactories of clocks have to keep running, so thoy make clooks not only for the jowoler's trade, but for all other branches of trade. Years ago a jew elry store was the only place where a olook could ho obtained; and a family bought a good clock, and it lusted lifo-tlmo.

One small manufactory could keep up with the demand foi clooks, as thoro was only sale for a new clock whon a young family wont to koeping house, after marriage. But there caniocompotlng clock manufactur ers, and a demand hud to be created for clocks, and so cheap clocks became fashionable for brlo-u-brao. Tho fao- tories had to havo sales of docks in order to konp mon at work, and the result Is, that a man or woman is in luck if thoy do not have a clock sawod off on thorn onoe or twice a week. Clocks como with baking powder, dry goods, cigars, and about everything that is sold, flio works of clooks are Inserted in plnoquos, animals, nnd all kinds of jugs that are used to docorate manlols, rooms, and all parts of a house. Nono of them keep time.

Somo of tho marblo French clocks, or tbo bronze clocks, are expensive, and when they do run, thoy strike in a manner that is muslo to tho car, but then it is a quarter to one an expensive French clock is liable to strike a hundrod and forty-seven as any othor number. A French clock that has lain dormant for a year, and has becomo covered with dust, is liable to wuko up in tho night and strike up enough to last a year or eighteen months. No family should be without from' one to twenty clocks, and few families aro; but the more clocks they have the less they know as to what time of day or night. Of all the disgusting clocks, tho alarm clock Is the worst. An amateur sets the alarm for a given hour, but it goes off at some othor hour invariably, and when the victim is awakonod, and tries to choke off tlio alarm, the aforesaid alarm persists in singing its piece to tho end.

If the nliirm would have sense enough to stop purring and stut tering when it had awakened the hired girl, or whoever it was expected to awaken, it would bo different but the infernal machino persists in keeping up this music until all in tho house are awakened, and many of tho neighbors in adjoining houses. The clock mania would seem to have reached tho end of its rope, but every day some misguided man or woman, intont on mak ing a prosent to a friend, buys fancy clock, and sends it to the long suffering victim, and there is another thorn in the flesh. In houses whero there aro twenty clocks, the most frequent question asked is to the man of tho liouso whon he comes home, and that is "Pa, what time is it by your watch?" It is a sad day when "pa watch runs down, or is loft at the jewelers. Until the watch is ngain its normal condition, though the house may bo full of clocks, they "lake no note of timo." The other day a man wcut homo and his wifo was fussing around getting ready to go to a recep tion. Ho was in tho library, when the wifo came to tho head of tho stairs with a quantity of tlio bloom of youth frescoed on her face, hor hair in curl papers, and no dress on.

"Pa, what timo is it by your watch? I must start at half past four." "My watch is at the jewelers," said Pa. "What timo is it by tho brass clook in the library? asked tho little woman, as she began to take down hor hair. "Eleven-thirty," said the old gentle man, as ho gazed into the figured face of the brass hanging clock, that had been bought as an ornament that never did keep time," said the lady a littlo ruffled. "Look at the marble clock in tho parlor." "Nine-forty-five," said the old wretch, as he looked at tho marble refrigerator on tho mantel in tho face. "Dear me," said the lady, becoming nervous, "try tho bronze clock in the dining room." "Aye-aye," said ho.

as he started for tho dining room, and then the answer came to her, "stopped, short never to go again, nt one-lifteen." I shall go wild," said the wifo, throwing the dress over her head. "Go into the kitchen, and tho hall, and in all the rooms up stairs, and see if you can find out what time it is." The old gentleman went about the house for somo minutes, and then wont to his wife's room, and said: "All the clocks have stopped, but I have to report that by taking the figures from all of them, as indicated by the hands, and adding them together, and dividing the number by tho indication on the steam gauge on the furnace, the result in figures is eighteen Just then an alarm clock in the barn that had been set the night before to wake the coachman, went off. and the poor woman, who bad got hor things pretty noar all on, said: "Well, for heaven's sake, telephone down town and find out what time it is, and then take all the clooks in the house and trade them off for an hour glass." Almost every family has had about the same experience with a house full of clocks. Peck's Sun. Hold the Fort "It seems to me you are out on the street a good deal, Mrs.

Brown." "Yes; I like plenty of exercise." "But the baby "Oh, Heave it home." "With the servant?" "No; with Mr. Brown." "He must bo a model husband?" "Not at all. You see, he is great on singing revival hymns." "Yes, I know." "Well, I named the baby Fort" "What for?" "So he would always want to hold It" Chtcago Ledger, It cost Florida nearly $60,000 to get her new constitution. N.C. A momorial history of the Jews America is proposod, to bo issued 1892.

Nova Scotia ships thousands of bal rels of apples to New York olty evorl week. Enough poople bavo gone into Kansrj within a your to found a olty the sla of Baltimore. A now absurdity is to put a crape bo on the collar of a pot dog whose ownej is in mourning. A girl employed in a Noonah (Wis. paper mill found two $100 bills sewe up in an old corsot "Five hundrod tall laaios to wear rub ber cloaks as an advertisement" an wantod in New York.

Visitors are excludod from Wlndso Palace now, nor aro any more photol graphs allowed to be taken. The woman sullrago bill wmon pas4 ed the Vermont house by a large ma jority was defeated in tho senate What we want is not to see ourselvei as others see us. we warn 10 navi fir- i. a. i others seo us as we seo ourselves.

A negro murderer in Texas elude tho bloodhounds that wore put on Mi traok by rubbing his boots with tobacco. Base ball has been introduced into the Pittsburgh Insane Asylum for the! physical and mental improvement of the) Inmates. I It is said that several colored families are about to emigrate from York cou' ty, S. to Liberia, whore earthquatf are unknown. I Duriuir tho bolldavs Paris is to havl a doll show, with dolls from every dime and nation in distinctive dross, anfl tableaux of historical scenes, with dolls! as porformers.

I Walter McDonald saw a large eagle In the woods near Decatur. He threw-a stone at it and struck it on the bead i The great bird fell to the ground and was captured. I Philadelphia men are said to beta homely that they had to take a comj posite photograph of sixteen promineni citizens in order to get a respectable-looking mayor. A dishonest jowolry peddler ww mobbed at Ann Arbor, Mich. He took refuge in a hotel, and the fire depart' ment was called out to disperse the crowd with cold water.

Snowsboe clubs are organizing It Northern Michigan, and $1,800 wortl of flannel uniforms have been orderec from one tailor alone. A toboggan slide will also be built at Marquette. A silver dollar weighs very nearly an ounce, hence any letter not hoavier than a dollar can go for a single two-cent stamp. Five nickels and a small copper cent will also give an ounce. In a lecture nt the Royal Institute, London, Professor Oliver Ledge has endeavored to show that electrioity might be employed to clear tho upper atmosphere of great cities of dust and "Ah," said a conceited young par-j son.

"I bavo lust been preaching to si congregation of asses." "Then thatj was the reason you called tnem oeiovce brethren." repliod a strong-mind' lady. Among the most Interesting dlscov eries recently made at Pompeii is that the Romans used motalio pens. Thesef pens are of bronze, and shaped and! iu. 1 spilt in me eeuuer juni nu mo tuuuurui steel pen. "Now, Johnny, you remember that Lot's wife was changed to a pillar 06 salt because she turned and looked back.

Why did she turn and look "Oh, I s'pose some othor woman pass-j ed her with anew dress on." The sourest vinegar is now manufac-j tured from apples in twenty-four hours-! The process consists in taking the juice from the applo and running it over! soured corncobs, and at the end of day the purest cider vinegar is the result In 1870 the village of Durham N. contained 250 inhabitants. Now it has, 6,500 and 2,000 or 3, 000 just outside thej boundaries. Tbe valuation has risen from $50,000 to 13,500,000. Tobacco, cotton and woolen factories account for! this.

A well-instructed Boston 4-year-old said to his mother at breakfast the other morning, boiled eggs being on the bill of fare: "Mamma, unshell my egg." Then apparently thinking he had not been sufficiently polite, added: "For Jesus' sake, amen." I Unquenchable fire is eating its way through hundreds of acres of coal Westmoreland county, the flames having been started some time ago In? the shaft of the H. C. Fricke Coke comj pony. By reason of the fire some 800 men are out of work, and the Coke! company is losing $2,400 a day. I A small boy on his first appearance; in a parish school at Rochester, N.

was asked if he knew the Lord's Prayer. He replied that he bad never heard of it whereupon an urchin at his side, with a friendly desire to exouse his ignorance, said to the teacher "PlfiiisB. ma'am, hn'a a. atrnnirnr from Pennsylvania." "Look here, Deacon Snaffleblt" said the horse-dealer, "I want a plain word with you. Last Saturday you tradedj me a mare that isn't worth $50 for that.

gray colt I'd just put $200 into." "So I did, so I did," groaned the deaoon, regretting that he hadn't insisted on something to boot "so saith the proverb of Solomon, the wise, 'The wealth the sinner is laid up for the just' One of the partners in an Indianr. grist-mill which bad been closed np bj the Bheriff was explaining to a Nev Yorker the other day that it all om( about through the good managemen of his partner. "Good managemer, in a failure?" queried the Yorkc "Exactly. We keep no books an. cashier.

The one who was around most pocketed the most money, and I managed fo. around themo," Tub winter flight of northernnrs to Florida has set in, and the hotols In Jacksonville are filling up rapidly. Rev. Ellison Capeus, rector of Christ church, Greenville, S. has declined an lection to the blshoprlo of Easton, Md.

A deposit of "black mud" recently discovered in Garland county, Arkansas, is said to yield $40 in silver to the ton. A Fifth avenue, New York young woman is organizing a walking club to distinguish itself in the south this winter. Mr. Labouciikiie In London Truth gently alludes to Robert Buchanan's "hysterical rigmarole" against Mr. Gosse.

W. E. Bakkett, managing editor of The hosloii Advertiser, is only 20 years old. He speaks of himself as the "babj editor," An unmarried colored woman gave birth to triplets at Cambridge, one day last weok. Two of the child ren are alive and well.

There are 125 cheeso factories in St Lawrence county, New York, and last year they manufactured and sold 13, 000,000 pounds of cheese. The Catholio churches of Pittsburg, have purchnsod ono hundred acres on Squirrol hill to bo used for a cemetery. Tho ground cost 830,000. James G. Blaine, contemplates entering journalism.

Ho has two opportunities to saloct from one in Pittsburgh and another in Philadelphia, Julian Hawthorne now confesses "Almost everything that I have written has been from necessity, and there is very little of it that I shall not be glad to see forgotton." Natural gas accumulating in the stove in a Pittsburgh (Pa.) publio school exploded tho other day without hurting anyone, but tho childron ail gained a half-holiday. Some northern manufacturers of stoves are moving southward in consequence of western competition and on account of the chcapnoss of iron in Alabama and Tennessee A single shod of paper 72 inches wido and 7 miles long was made without a break in a paper-mill at Water-town, N. a few days ago. The sheet weighed 2,207 pounds. An excited English speaker recently perpetrated tho bull, "Sir, she was man enough to resist Russia." and another leader said: "The voice of England, which sounded so dourly at the last general cloction, would not be lost sight of." When Henry George was asked by a reporter tho other day to give his views on the land question, he said: "I nm perfectly willing to do so but it would be equivalent to writing an article and I want pay for it I am no longer a candidate, I make uiy living by writing." Fred Archer had peculiar legs.

They were abnormally long from the knee to the ankle and wonderfully elastic. Archer was in the habit of using much deliberation in mounting a horse. It rarely took him less than five minutes to get settled in the saddle. Once thero, however, ho was there to "Camp-Meeting John" Allen, 91 years of age but still vigorous, lost two houses in the recent Farmington (Me.) fire, with a manuscript of an autobiography on which he had been nt work twenty years, his certificates and ministerial licenses, and many valuable papers. He is now in Boston, where he intends to make his home with a daughter.

During his recent campaign In Pennsylvania Beaver was asked by a colored editor to subscribe for his paper, the price boing $1 a year. The general handed the editor a $20 bill, expecting $19 in change. What was his surprise, however, on being presented with.tho following: "Received of Gon. Benver, for twenty years subscription, $20." If you're dead the paper'll still go on." said the colored man to the astonished general. A recent edition of a German periodical contains what Is said to be a hitherto unpublished poem addressed by Goethe, in 1809, to the mother of Prof, von Lutzow, a prominent member of the Goethe sooiety of Vienna.

The lines are interesting chiefly from the faot that the person in whose album they were written was only 10 years of age. Bertha von Lutzow was an unusually gifted child, and developed into a woman of rare accomplishments. She was a charming painter, sang beautifully, and was very learned, studying theology under Schleiermacher, and acquiring a knowledge of Greek. She died in 1844. Her father was tho celebrated anatomist Loder, Whose lectures Goethe attended in 1782, and who died a fow weeks after the poet Prof, von Lutzow, her son, is ono of the foremost Jiving authorities, of the history of art.

THANKSGIVING. Every creature of God Is good, and nothing to bo refused, If it bo received with thankt-giving. I Tim. Iv. 4.

Dark skies, field nnd forest bare and desolate, rough winds, driving rain or snow! A strango season this, ono might say, for a time of general thanksgiving nnd joyl But it Is just the proper season. It Is our cold Northern winter that glvos us our warm Northern homes. Where the skies nro bright mon hardly havo a home. They live out of doors. Thoir society is indiscriminate.

But when storms assail and buffet them, then thoy sock refuge, the fire Is kindled on tbo hearth, and about it the warm affections and tender companionships of family lifo grow and blossom. The great home day of the year points us back to the simple timo when all men were farmers. Tho great Earth- mother reminds us that we are her children. The husbandman of tho North did his work with all his heart while the sunshine lasted. Thero was no holiday or rest for him.

Careful, provident, fore-casting, he had littlo disposition toward the merriment that brightens the villngo and the harvest of the South. With serious care he provided his household, and not till every sheaf was garnered, every lato-lingcring fruit gath ered in, and tho fields left bare not till then would he yield himself to secure festivity nnd gladness. To thank tho Lord for his goodness, to gather the scattered family into perfect circle, to remember with bounty tho poor nnd neody what complete celebration of a holiday was ever do- viscd? Is not this day as much a gift of Christianity ns Christmas or Easter? Is it not itsoif an embodiment and type of tho best blessings for which wo thank God? It brings back to us the lirst'dnys of the nation, tlio planting of the scion that has grown through bitter tempest and scorching sunshine to such a goodly tree. It speaks to us of the assurance of our daily bread, renewed by tlio per petual miracle of Nature. It is tlio day sacred to the home affections that make earth most like Heaven.

It is the da that gathers up the thought of every happiness and every good, to lay all in grateful and tender consecration be' fore our Father. And into this of all days should come the grace of Christ's spirit Into the fulness of our own joy, blessed and brightened by the consciousness of his smilo, should como his words, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." They utter no voice of ascetio denial to ourselves of tho Lord's free gift Thoy teach us, by the very height ol our own happiness in receiving, the nobler height of giving. And in truth, it is the naturo of all best joy to desire to impart itself. When our hearts glow in tho warmth of our own fireside, the abundant plenty nnd sweet com pnnionship of our homes, then they may well reach out in spontaneous desire to brighten less happy lives. We may well take to ourselves more earnest purposo and more considerate thought for tho poor, the solitary, tho friendless.

As we look upon earth's plenty and all die happiness of lifo, these words come tous, "Freely ye have received!" Andes we look up in thankfulness, the same voice bids us "Freely give!" An Anti-Saloonist Customer "Now be sure and send that jug of rye up to my house to night" Wholesale liquor dealer "I'll do the best I can but I'm afraid the hour is too late. The expresses have all gone and my team is put up. Won't to morrow do?" "Gracious goodness! man, what am I to do to-night ior a nip if I don't got it?" W. L. D.

"Can't you step into a sa loon and lake a sn'ftcr?" "Saloon! What are you talking about? I belong to the anti-saloon party!" Boston Courier. Keducing the Tariff. "See here, senator, your constituents are raising a row over your last vote; you introduced a bill to reduce the tariff on barbed wire. "Well?" "We want more protection." "Nonsense. Any man who ever tried to climb a barb-wire fonco understands that it knows how to protect itself." Chicago Ledger.

Not Suited to the Business. "James," said a grocer to the new boy, "what have you beeu doing in the back room so long? "I was a pickln' the dead flies out of the dried currants, sir, replied James. "You were," replied tho grocer with much disgust. "An' your father told me that he thought you were born for the grocery business. You had better study for the ministry, James," New York Sun.

is listenin' to what tho preachin' is about, or is writin' notes to Sam Merritt in the back of the tune book. I get thirsty, too, and I fidget about till father looks at me and mother nudges Helen, and Helen passes it along to me with interest "An, then," continues Ezra, in his revery, "when the last hymn is given out, an' we stan' up agin an' join the choir, I am glad to see that Laura is singin' outer the book with Miss Hubbard, the alto. An' goin' out o' meet-in1 I kind of edgo up to Laura and ask her if I kin have the please of seeln' her home. "An' now we boys all go out on the common to play ball. The Enfield boys have come over, and of all the Hampshire County ball-players they are the toughest to beat.

Gorham Polly keeps tally, because ho has got the newest jack-knife oh. how slick it whittles the old broom handle Gorham picked np in Packard's store an' brought along jest to keep tally on. It Is a great game of ball; the bats are broad and light and the ball is small and soft But the Enfield boys boat us at last leastwise they make seventy tallies to our fifty-eight when Heman Fitts knocks tho ball over into Aunt Dorcas Eastman's yard and Aunt Dorcas eomes out an takes it into the house an' we have to stop playin' Then Phlnoas Owens allows ho can flop any boy in Belchertown, an' Moses Baker takes him up, an' they wrasslo like two Tartars, till at last Moses tuckers Phlnoas an' dowqs. him down as slick as a whistle,.