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SLIPPERY.

BY JO KING.

 

The snow has lain for many days,
Beneath a thousand feet

The walks are trodden hard and smooth,
And slickened o‘er with sleet.

You've got to walk with so much care,
You look just like a clown,

And somehow, when my feet go up,
My body will come down.

Indeed, these are the slippery times,
That Scripture speaks about,

You’ve got to keep your secret close,
For fear of slipping out.

I had to get my tongue rough-shod,
It made so many slips,

And many a slip is also made
Between the cup and lips.

A man was owin me a sum,
Not much, but arge enough,
He, in the general smoothness, ac-
Cidentally slipped off.

Burglars are slipping round 0’ nights.
The slickness is supreme-—

I have to grasp the fence lest I
Slip off my slippery theme.

 

In a Rattlesnake Den.

BY CAPTAIN BRUIN ADAMS.

 

 

THERE’S something so absolutely hideous, and
at the same time appalling, in the appearance of
a full-sized rattlesnake, in coil and ready to
strike, that I have seen the bravest and coolest
men start back at the sight of one and tremble,
while their cheeks blanched deadl white, as
nothing else, perhaps, on earth coul have can
ed them to do. -

And those who best know the snake, its power
and marvelous quickness in attack, are the ones
who most dread and frequently shun it. If,
then, a single reptile of this species can so strike
terror into the bravest heart, and that, too,
when there is every facility for escape, what
must be the effect upon him who is conﬁned in
close quarters with hundreds of the disgusting
creatures threatening from every side?

I was once witness to such an event, and,
though it has now been many years since it oc-
curred, yet I cannot recall the circumstance
without a shudder of horror, or without a wish
that I could blot it entirely from my memory.
I was living at the time on my ranch, located
near the foot of the Phantom hills up between
the Cincho and Colorado.

Some weeks previous I had been down to San
Antonio, and having made the acquaintance of
several young gentlemen who had come out
from the “ States” in search of adventure, hunt-
ing, etc., I invited them up to spend as long a
time as they might think proper, assuring them
that they would ﬁnd there an abundance of game
of all sizes and kinds. .

Late one afternoon they dashed up to the door,
and dismounting at once on my requesting them
to do so, took ossession of the place and made
themselves at ome.

My contract with the young fellows was, that
they were to do just as they pleased; using the
horses, dogs, guns, negroes as ides; but they
were to allow me the same privilege, and per-
fect freedom to attend to business, as it was the
season for that.

There was, however, one restriction placed
upon their movements, a useless one, as it turned
out, for, as a matter of course, the forbid-
den ,fruit was almost the ﬁrst that they “ went
for. ’

In a narrow, rugged valley upon the moun-
tain—side, was a sin ularly-formed cave, sur-
rounded upon all si es by great bowlders and
crags, the whole forming one of the wildest-look-
ing‘ places that I have ever seen.

he cavern did not, as is usually the case, run
back into the bowels of the earth, but penetrat-

At the entrance to the valley I found the rest
of the party assembled, their faces only too plain-
ly corroborating the intelligence Grey had
brou ht. _

“ e has ceased calling,” said one, in a husky,
choking voice. _

“ How long since he fell in?” I asked, as I
coiled the lasso round my arm and unsheathed
the saber.

“More than half an hour. We tried to—”

But I did not wait to hear what he had tried
to do. I wanted to see if there was yet life
enough left in r Wynne to enable hign to shp
the noose over '3 shoulders and be drawn up to
die‘in a place less terrible.

The snakes had been called forth from their
dens in greater numbers than I had ever seen,
and were exceedin' gly ﬁerce and warlike in their
demonstrations as approached. .

Slashing right and eft, my legs being com-
pletely protected by the heavy calf—skin boots
and buckskin wrappers, or leggings, I made my
way safely to the verge of the chasm and looked
over into the gloomy abyss.

Hardened to fearful sights as I had become b
years of experience ami the perils and diﬂicu -
ties of the border, I felt my knees suddenly
weaken as I drew back from contemplating the
terrible scene at my feet. .

Wynne lay upon his back, his eyes Wide open
and starin straight from out a face already
swollen an blackened b reason of the enor-
mous amount of poison t at had been injected
into his veins.

He was, of course, dead, and it was a mercy
that he was so, for the bottom of the cavern was
literally alive with crawling, hissing rattle-
snakes, eve one of which seemed to have been
aroused to t e utmost pitch of fury, which they
vented upon the dead body.

There was nothing to be done. Wynne was
past all earthly help, and, as the snakes above-

round were beginning to strike viciously at my
guckskins and my arm was growing weary wit
striking, I drew back out of the press to deliber-
ate upon the proper course to pursue.
The poor fellow must be gotten out some way
or other, but in what way puzzled me consider—

ab .

Fyinally, however, I procured a long rod, forked
at the extremity, and with this I again returned
to the edge of the pit.

Catching the loop of the lasso upon the fork, I
lowered it, and after inﬁnite labor, and con-
siderable danger, I managed to slip it over an

a ~‘.’
to 3

c "I/’

 

ed straight down to the depth of ten or ﬁfteen
feet, an then branched off in two, if not three,
different directions.

NOW, this place was known far and wide as
the “ Rattlesnake Den,” and it certainly de-
served the title.

On any sunny day, and especially after a
shower when the clouds had blown away, the
rocks and level spots in the immediate vicinity
of the cavern were literally covered with rattle—
snakes of all sizes, a es, and shades of color pecu-
liar to the tribe. T ere they lay and basked in
the warm rays, quiet when undisturbed, but u
on the sli htest noise every head and tail wou d
be erected, and then such a storm of kisses, and
such a rattling of rattles would take place as
would make the valley resonant with the terri-
ble sound. «

thether it was because of the presence of the
reptiles that no game was ever to be found in
this little valley, I know not; but such was the
fact, let the reason be what it may.

Into this valley, then, I forbade my guests
penetrating. I took them over one morning for
an inspection, made from a respectful distance,
and from their varied expreSSions of horror
and disgust, I concluded that they had had
enough of Snake Valley.

I expect that no set of young fellows out for
fun ever so enjoyed themselves as did my guests
for the ﬁrst week or two. One of them especial-
ly—a Kentuckian, by the name of VVynne—

seemed to enter into the sport with an ardor that
never ﬂagged.

On two separate occasions the sub'ect of the
Snake Valley was introduced; and saw that
the desire to visit and inspect the cavern more
closely was gaining ground.

Wyime, in particular, was pressing—declar-
ing that, with proper caution, there could be no
danger, and he was seconded by the rest.

I saw how it would end; but, thinking that
they had been sufﬁciently impressed to make
them careful in case they went, I allowed the
subject to pass from my mind.

It was the third or fourth day after this, a
dark, gloomy one, such as nearly always pre-
cedes a violent storm or Norther in those parts,
and I was sitting 011 the porch in front of the
ranch, watching out acress the prairie for some
signs of my guests, who usually returned before
this late hour.

While thus engaged, I discovered off toward
the mountains a horseman rapidly approaching,
who, from the way he plied both whip and spur,
was evidently anxious to reach somewhere as
soon as possible. I know not why it was, but,
the instant I saw the man who was riding so des-
peratel , Snake Valley ﬂashed into my mind,
and as he drew near enough for me to see that
it was one of m ' guests, his face blanched to an
ashy white, an convulsed with an awful terror,
I knew that some fearful tragedy had been en—
acted in that loathsome locality.

“ \Vynne! \Vynne!” gasped the young man,
as he reeled out of the saddle. _

“ I’Vhat is it, man! Speak!” I exclaimed,
catching his arm and shaking him ﬁercely. '

“ Go, for God’s sake! W'ynne has fallen into
the Snake Cavern!” and the poor fellow almost
fell into a chair that he had mana ed to reach.

The news was simply awful. I new the con-
formation of that cave too well to even ho
that the unhappy man could escape by clim

1n .

The walls sloped outward as they descended,
the bottom being at least four times as large
around as the entrance; besides which, they
were as smooth as the walls of a room. Fora
moment I was completely stunned. I had never
dreamed of anything so fearful as this. I had
thought they, inexperienced in such matters, or
some one of them, mi ht be bitten, if they ven—
tured into the valley; ut as to falling into the
den itself, where I knew a hundred, perhaps
hundreds, of the enraged reptiles would attack
at once, the thought was too hideous to enter-
tain even for an instant. ,

As these thoughts ﬂashed through my mind, I
was rapidly assisting one of m ' boys to saddle a
ﬂeet mustang; which being one, and havmg
snatched up my lariat and an old cavalry saber
as the best weapons against the snakes, I mount-
ed, and was off like a shot for the scene of hor-

/ ; .’
//,’.
I‘ll/{121'

arm that lay, fortunately, elevated across the
chest. ’

Nothing remained now but to await sundown,
at which time the reptiles always retired to their
holes in the rocks, and then, by cautiously creep-
ing up, so as not to disturb them, lay hold of the
ro and draw the body up.

This we managed to do, but not Without great
labor and trouble, as my companions were so
completely unnerved as to render them almost
entirely useless.

We conveyed poor Wyime to the ranch and
buried him beneath the great live oak that stands
on the brow of the rise behind the house.
Then, for the ﬁrst time, I asked for the par~
ticulars.
It seemed that for two or three days Wynne
had been trying to induce the others to visit the
den, and on that day, it being cloudy, and hav-
ing heard me say that at such time the snakes
were not out, they made the venture.
Not a re tile was to be seen, and creeping cau-
tiousl to t e edge of the cave, they peered down
into t e depth.
As I have said, the sides of the cavern slo
outward or backward as they descended, so t at
Without leaning far over, the full extent of the
pit could not be seen.
Wynne made the attempt, and was leaning
far over the edge, his left foot resting upon a
slight protuberance, when, without previous
warning, a dozen or more sharp rattles broke
the silence, accompanied by the penetrating hiss
of the reptile as when angered.
The alarm was so sudden that it caused the
young man to start violently. His foot slipped,
e staggered, strove desperately to regain his
balance, but, failing, went over into the yawn-
ing chasm with a cry of horror, such as a man
could only utter under similar circumstances.
They looked over the edge, only one ﬂeeting
glance, for the cry had aroused the snakes on
every hand, but that was enough to stamp a pic—
ture upon their brains that nothing could ever
eﬁ'ace.

As the youiio' man struck the earth with a
dull, heavy thu , fallin upon his side, it seemed,
to the excited vision 0 those who looked, that
thousands of the deadly re tiles had fastened
upon him in the twinkling 0 an eye.

His cries for help were pitiful, indeed, but they
were utterly powerless to afford him the slightest

aid.

Little by little his voice died away—a few
groans—a spasmodic gasping, and then all was
still.

 

Two days after the awful tragedy my guests
left the ranch to return to San Antonio, and
thence north to their homes, never again to visit
a country about which such terrible recollections
were impressed upon their minds.

 

while the snakes were “in quarters,” we ﬁlled
up the den, and thus in some measure crippled
the reptiles in their stronghold.

 

A Siren’s Vengeance.

BY T. C. HARBAUGH.

 

 

DACIA COURTENAY, the beautiful woman who
had dazzled New York society for a brilliant
season, reached eagerly for the pa r which was
brou ht to her one mornin , and gan to scan
its co umns with sup re excitement.

“ What do I see! ’ she suddenly exclaimed.
“Have I news at last? I hope to Heaven it is
against him I”

Then she proceeded to read to herself aloud,
and in a musical voice, the following paragraph
which seemed to possess a strange and thrilling
interest for her:

“GWEN UP.

“The missing steamer Columbia has been heard
from at last. but in a manner that saddens many
hearts. Captain Godolphin. who arrived in port

esterday, reports that he picked up in mid-ocean,

our days ago, pieces of a wreck which leaves no
doubt as to the Columbia's fate. A large iece of
wreck bearing the letters Colum— tits :1 doubts
to rest. It is likely that the Colum is. was lost in
mid-ocean by means unknown, and that not one of
all her people escaped to make clear the mystery.
To the lat of the mysteriously lost and alongside of
the names Paciﬁc and City of Boston we must add
that of the best vessel that ever left this port ﬂying
the American ﬂag l”

“ Good!” cried the siren when she reached the
foot of the aragraph. “ I have struck a blow
from which t ere is no recovery. I told him in
my last interview that when a man turns from
the woman who loves him, and seeks one beneath
her in the social scale he must expect a s ger-
ing blow. I have struck, Rupert Kirke, an the
waves to—night over your body sing the song of
Dacia Courtenay’s vengeance!”

The beauty had hardly concluded when the
faint tinkling of a bell was heard, and a minute
later a man was ushered into her presence.

He was a villainous-looking fellow, whose skin
was quite dark, and had a pair of eyes that
lau bed evilly, nestling under his black lashes.

TIie moment Dacia Courtenay saw this man
she almost sprung from her chair.

 

/' 72%

Slashing right and left, my legs being completely protected, I made my way safely to the verge of the chasm.

“IVhat do you say, now?” asked her visitor,
triumphantly, his eyes resting on the morning

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paper for a moment. “ I think the Journal con-
tains enough to satisfy you.”

“ The Columbia seems to have been lost,” said
Dacia.

“ Seems to be?” echoed the man. “ Do you
doubt yet?”

A moment‘s silence followed the uestion.

“ The paper gives her up,” the be e of society
said, at last. “ But do you think nobody es-
ca ed?”

‘ I don’t do things by halves,” was the quick
rejoinder. “The machine I sent to sea in the
Columbia’s hold did the work com letely. I
never fail! At the time set upon, an it was at
night, too—at night in mid—ocean—think of
itl—the explosion took place, and the best ship
that ever left this port, as that paper says, met
her doom. Do you doubt the completeness of
my work? Do you believe that Rupert Kirke,
the young owner of the Columbia who was
Olfl board escaped? Does he bear a charmed
li e?”

“ I do not say that he does,” was the reply.
“ Your words reassure me; the remove the last
doubt. I have struck him a low from which
there is no recovery.”

“ lVell, I’ll take my money now.”

Dacia Courtenay’s visitor stood over her with
demand in his eyes.

“ I’ve done my part,” he went on; “ now keep
your promise.”

Did the siren see that she was in the power of
a man who was capable of anythin —that she
was placing herself in the hands a money-
leech who could hold over her the phantom of a
terrible crime?

Her assion had driven her to great lengths.

She ad come up from the far South with
beauty and unlimited fortune.

She had created more than a ﬂutter in the
brilliant society of the great metropolis; she had
“ set it wild,” to use a common term.

A dozen admirers had been attracted to her,
but she had appeared cold and indifferent to
them all.

She sought her own con uest; she met and
loved with all the intensity 0 a passion nurtured
in a Southern clime, the wealthy young ship—
owner, Rupert Kirke, but her arts to overcome
him had failed.

The Southern siren saw, when too late, and
with the deepest chagrin, that she could not in-
snare the man she wanted, and heard at last with
unconcealed indignation, that he had actually be—
trothed himself to a young girl whose home was
humble, but whose modest beauty was a match
for her own famous loveliness.

tamely.
“I’ll smite him with my vengeance and he
shall not know from whom the blow comes!” she

 

It was too much for the siren to submit to.

Then it was that the siren hired the man whom
we have seen enter her parlor to do the deed he
had boldly proclaimed.

The pair had met before; in fact, Rantoul
Blake had followed Dacia to New York, knowing
her well enough to believe that she would have
work for him.

And she had struck!

Her vengeance had sent the Columbia and its
handsome young owner to the bottom of the sea,
and Claire Irving would look in vain for his re-
turn!

Rantoul Blake had a right to demand money
from the beautiful woman whom he visited
while she still held in her hand the paper that
announced the Columbia’s doom.

Without him, she could not have succeeded;
he had helped her to vengeance.

“ Money?”she echoed, looking up into his face.
“ How much?"

“ You know. Five thousand dollars.”

“Wait,” said Dacia. “ I’ll settle with you in
full.”

She rose and walked to an elegant escritoire,
from one of the drawers of which she took some-
thin which the man—her tool—did not see.

“ ﬁve paid you enough already!” she said,
whirl' upon him. “I’ve kept you in all your
moodéngor six weeks in this expensive city. I
think you’ve been paid.” .

The man looked thunderstruck, and then his
blazing eyes seemed to ﬂy from his head.

“Nothin for the last deed?” he exclaimed.
“ Nothing or stainin my hands with the blood
of two hundred soulsg’

“ It will never trouble your conscience, Ran-
toul Blake!” laughed Dacia, tauntingly.

“ By heavens! you shall not cheat me thus!”
he roared. “I came here for money, and I’ll
have it, or—”

“ Or what?” interrupted the siren, coolly.
“Beware, sir! One ste toward me and I Will
avenge some of the un ortunates who sailed in
the Columbia!”

Rantoul Blake did not stir, for he stood in
front of a cocked revolver behind which the
eyes of Dacia Courtenay ﬂashed ﬁre.

“ Get out of In house!” she went on, in tones
of command. “ ’ve already id on well for
your work. Don’t say with thndse devilish eyes
that you will get even with me. Turn on me,
Rantoul Blake, and you will discover that the
hand that struck one man to the deathcan strike
another. Go!”

The man retreated toward the door; inch by

 

know? Ask the man called Rantoul Blake, the
slave who has turned on his mistress, the in-
famous. wretch whose arrest quickly followed
my arrival in the city. Five days on a raft in
mid-ocean do not brin me to your feet, Dacia.
It was terrible; the bgw came when the ship
was asleep. On the raft I put this and that to-
gether, your last words, the hidden threat, the
man known to be your tool, the strange box he
brought on board just before we sailed; all the
parts ﬁtted mcely, Dacia. And to conﬁrm it,
the moment we laid our hands on Rantoul Blake
he told all.”

Dacia looked like a statue in marble as she
stood before Rupert Kirke, the ship-owner.

“Have on lost your voice, murderess?” he
cried. “ ’ve been sitting here in the cold three
hours waiting for you.”

“What are you going to do with me?” sud-
denl cried the siren.

A “ urn you over to the law!” was the merciless
reply. “ A deed like yours steels the heart
against mercy. ”

For a moment longer the enchantress, bafﬂed
and white-faced, stood before the ship-owner-
then, with a piercing cry, she went forward and
struck the ﬂoor in a deathly swoon.

Rupert Kirke looked at her awhile in the mel-
low iight of the gas and went toward the door.

.“ She’ll be here when we want her,” he said to
himself. “ Woman though she is, she has made
me merciless.”

When the ofﬁcers entered Dacia’s parlors to
arrest her they found the house in disorder and
the beautiful siren missing!

On the boudoir ﬂoor lay the rich ball dress, but
its owner had fled.

The winter night seemed to have shielded the
woman whose vengeance had sent the vessel to
the bottom of the sea.

The police could not ﬁnd her; she eluded the
keenest detectives.

Rantoul Blake, the wretch, expiated his crime
on the allows, and after all the merriest wed-
ding-be rung for Claire Irving, the ship—own-
er’s choice.

Human vengeance maylfall short of its inten-
tions, but the Justice of eaven never fails.

One year later a beautiful woman was shot by
a jealous lover in a Cuban city, and the papers
recalled the fact that the victim was the once
famous siren, Dacia Courtenay, who, in a ﬁt of
bafﬂed ion, struck a blow for vengeance
which t e Nemesis of crime had not overlooked!

 

 

Telephone Echoel.

 

VERY popular novel (among ofﬁce-hunters just
at present)—“ Put Yourself in His Place.”

AT the mouth of a Cornish mine there is this
advice: “ Do not fall down this shaft, as there
are men at work at the bottom of it.”

A SENTENCE containin every letter in the
English alphabet, and a vorite with writing
teachers, is: “ A quick brown fox jumps over the
lazy dog.”

“ WAS Rome founded by Romeo .3” inquired a

 

inch he backed away from the menacing wea—

pon.

On the threshold he paused and gave Dacia a
terrible look.

“ I’ll have more than money for this!” he
grated. “ I’ll have what you have just won—
vengeance!”

Dacia Courtenay laughed as he went out.

“ Fool! we are both in the same net! You
dare not speak, Ranqu Blake; you love your
precious neck too well!”

There was , no reply, only a footstep on the
stair, and the hired villain had passed from the
siren’s home.

Dacia walked to the mirror that ornamented
her elegant dressing-case and looked at her beau-
tiful face and magniﬁcent ﬁgure.

She was pale, but her dark eyes were full of
triumph, and when she put up the pistol she
said with a laugh:

“ Rid of two men b two adroit strokes!
When I want revenge, surmount every ob-
stacle. You can look for the lost ship till you
are gray, Claire Irving, and you, Rantoul Blake
—turn on me, if you dare!”

That ver night Dacia Courtenay appeared at
the most ce ebrated bal masque of the season, and
her admirers remarked that she looked more
charming than ever.

Trium h lit up the depths of her eyes, but in
the Whir of pleasure She seemed to forget her
terrible stroke, and did not think of the young
girl who had swooned on reading the paragraph
which had delighted her.

A week passed on.

The papers were closely scanned, but they
afforded no further tidin s of the missing ship.

The siren from the nth entered upon a
round of pleasure that dazzled anew the gay
metropolis.

Rantoul Blake did not cross hehg‘path, and she
began to believe that the villain left the city,
that her coolness, her threat, and the revolver,
had frightened him away.

It was after midnight one night when Dacia’s
carriage bore her home from a ball, and she en—
tered her parlors somewhat fatigued.

The next moment she stopped, looked a second
with excited eyes, and then staggered toward the
door.

Under the rich chandelier stood a man with
eyes riveted u 11 her, and with accusation min—
gled with su ering on every lineament of his
face.

“M God! Has the sea iven on u Ru rt
Kirkeg” cried the siren. g y p’ pe

“ I am back, no thanks to you, they tell me,”
was the answer, and the speaker moved lidin -
1y toward Dacia, who stood stunned in t e mi -
die of the room. “It was your way of punish-
ing one who would not fall at your feet, eh?

 

exclaimed. “ The girl he has chosen shall never

 

That winter I gathered the neighborhood, and,

become his bride!”

Two hundred innocent souls did not deter you.

pupil of the teacher. “ N o, my son,” replied the
Wise man: “it was Juliet who was found dead
by Romeo.”

“ Do you drink?” said a temperance reformer
to a beggar who had implored alms of him.
“Yes, t ank you, sir,” returned the candid pau—
per: “ where shall we go?”

A SATISFACTORY servant: Lad —You have
no beans, cousins, or men to bot er around, I
hope? Servant (seeking a place)—Nary a won,
mum, ownly an owld b’aste of a husband!
A—LOOK at old Pfennigfuchser, the banker.
How queer he walks; what lon strides he takes!
B—That’s his stinginess. A—Stin iness? Non-
sense! B—It isnothing else. He oes it to save
his shoe leather.

“ THERE’S two ways of doing it,” said Pat to
himself, as he stood mus' and waiting for a
job. “ If I save me $4,000 must lay up $200 a
year for twenty years, or I can put away $20 a
(yep: for two hundred years—now which shall I

o. .
AN exchange contains an account of “ a man
dying as he was shoveling off the sidewalk.” A
sidewalk is generally put down to sta , and the
man who undertakes to shovel it off deserves to
die in the attempt. It is easier to shovel off the
snow than to shovel off the sidewalk.

THERE is probably no better illustration in
this world of the terrible weight of grave re-
sponsibility than a ﬁve—inch dog standm on a
box with his fore—paws on the tailboar of a
four-horse express-wagon, alertly guarding its
passage through the streets of a crowded city.
ONE of our exchanges from way back tells how
the country squire spent the time during the
person’s long sermons. Among other things, the
alto laid her head on the basso profundo’s shoul-
der and quietly slept for an hour. She certain-
ly ought to have been put out, for when the
minister looked up he caught her napping on
ﬁrst base.
A STORY is told of a shrewish Scotchwoman
who tried to wean her husband from the dram—
shop by emplo ‘ng her brother to act the part
of a ghost, an frighten John on his way home.
“ Who are you ?” asked the gudeman, as the ap-
parition rose before him from behinda bush. ‘ I
am Auld Nick,” was the reply. " Come awa’,
man,” said John, nothing daunted. “ Gie’s a
shake 0’ your hand. I am married tee a sister
0’ yours. ’
“THIS is a sad, sad world,” murmured Deacon
Goodman, as be mechanically unlocked the door
of a corner cabinet. “ Indeed it is, indeed it is,”
assented Deacon Betterman, sympathetically.
“ No joysis unalloyed.” “ True, very true,” an-
swered eacon Goodman, as he put some sugar
into two glasses and added some liquid from a
black bottle. “ You like yours this way, I sup-
pose, brother?” “Yes, yes,” was the sad repl .
‘IVe nall have to take the hitters with t e
sweet.

AN Evangelist named Earl recently held a re—
vival in Virginia City, Nev. He didn’t convert
the people up to the standard usually in force
here, but he did very well considering. At one
of the meetings the wife of a gambler arose to
testify to the good effect he was having on the
community. “ “'hv,” she said, “ before Brother
Earl came here my usband used to run a re ’lar
brace, but now thanks‘ to Brother Earl‘s C 's-
tian teaching, he‘s dealing as square a game as
there 15 pi Virginia City.”

AN American, while on a visit to the old coun-
try, was talking to a group of cockneys about
railway traveling and remarked that some of
the fast trains in this country ran lon stretches
at the rate of a mile a minute. “ Oh! t t’s noth-
ing to the rate they travel this side,” interrupted
one of the Londoners. “ I know the conductor of
one of our fast express trains who aimed a blow
With a club at a man standing at a little wayside
station through which the train passed, and
knocked down and killed a man standing at a
station, seven miles further on. That’s what I call

“ ENGLISH as she is spoke” by foreigners is al-
ways amusing, and also as “ she is wro .” Here
is a Japanese specimen: “Notice. Shoe manu-
facturer. Design at any choice: The under—
Signed being engaged long and succeeded with
their capacity at shoe factory of Isekats, in
Tokio, it is now established in my liability at
under—mentioned lot all furnishment will be at-
tended in moderate term with good quality. An
order is acceptable, in receive a post, being
called upon the measure, and it will be forward-
ed in furnish. U. Inoya.”

A NEW YORK ﬁrm applied to Abraham Lin-
coln, some years before he became President, as
to the ﬁnancial standing of one of his neighbors.
Mr. Lincoln replied as follows: “ Yours of the
10th inst. received. I am well acquainted with
Mr. —— and know his circumstances. First of
all, he has a wife and baby; together they ought
to be worth $50,000 to any man. Secondly, he
has an ofﬁce in which there is a table worth
$1.50, and three chairs worth say :31. Last of
all there is in one corner a large rat—hol‘e which
will bear looking into. Respectfully yours, A.

 

 

 

To strike me you struck them all. How do I

LINCOLN.”

 

 

 

 

   
   
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

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