Life — December 27, 1894 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LI Tt SAGPRS FRANK BUCKLAND, who was my cousin, told me this story. He belonged to a fish- ing club on the Thames, which held its meetings once a week, and the chairman for the evening was the one who had caught the heaviest fish. On one occasion a Mr. Jones was the fortunate individual. It was the first time that he had earned the honor, and he was very proud of it, though his prize fish had only been abarbel. One of the members of the club was unable to stay for dinner and asked Jones for the fish to take home with him, as it was not to form part of the menu, He consented, though rather unwillingly, and ‘nothing was heard of the matter till the next meeting, when Buckland chanced to be present, “A curious thing happened about that barbel which Jones gave me last Saturday,” observed its recipient. **It had swallowed a little pike.” “You will not make me swallow that,” observed Buckland confidently. could not do it. Its conformation forbids it.” * You may theorize as you like,” returned the other, * but I must be allowed to believe the evidence of my senses. I saw the jack taken out of the barbel with my own eyes.” I don’t believe it,” said Buckland. he conversation, in fact, was growing very warm, when Jones broke in with: Don't quarrel, gentlemen. You are both of you right.” The fact is, 1 was so afraid that somebody might catch a heavier fish than I that I poked the little jack down the barbel’s throat with my fishing rod to make him weigh more."—Contemporary Review. “A barbell A GOOD-HEARTED curate, who firmly believed that God was continually working miracles to enable him to help the needy, and who seldom had a coin in his pocket, though he was never devoid of the fire of charity in his heart, was accosted one day by a beggar woman, He pleaded utter lack of money, and sadly turned aside ; but on the mendicant beseeching him to search his pockets, he hopelessly put his hand in one and to his amazement and joy, found a five-shilling piece there. “Another of God's miracles!” he exclaimed ; and then, addressing the woman, “This coin belongs to you, of right, Take it, and go in peace.” Having told the story afew hours later to his worldly-minded parish priest, and suggested that they should both go down on their knees and render thanks to God, a strange, unpleasant light suddenly broke on the mind of the shrewd pastor, who exclaimed in accents not suggestive of thanksgiving: ‘Good God ! Are those my breeches that you've on you ?" —Contemporary Review. FE: 1 was sitting out in front of the tavern in the West Virgiuia mvuntain town where I made my headquarters one summer, says a writer in Harper's Bazar, when a lank mountaineer, about twenty years old, rode up on a mule and greeted ‘me by name, although [ could not exactly place him. He dismounted, aed coming to where I was, he sat down quite close to me. “Colonel,” he said, in a low, cautious tone, “you kin respeck a man’s feelin's, cain’t yer 2" “T think I can, if I know what they are," I answered, slightly uncertain as to what he expected of me. “Well, I'm in this sort of a fix,” he proceeded, very confidentially, after giving a hitch to the box he was sitting on. ‘I've been goin’ ter see old man Mullins's gal Susan, an’ she’s tuck to me like a wet kitten to a hot brick, but she kinder hankers after money.” ** Most women do,” I ventured. “Lreckon yer more'n half right,” he admitted with a sigh.‘ Anyhow, Susan tol’ me to day I wuz too pore, an’ when I disputed the p'int, she said ez how I didn’t have a, cent ter my name ; an’ when I tol’ her she didn’t know what she was talkin’ about, she up an’ said she did; that if I could show her seven dollars she'd nab me in two shakes uv alamb’s tail, Then I said, I did, ez how I'd have to go home after it, an’ I come ter you. You gi’ me the money, an’ hol’ that mule fer hit tell [ get back yer agin, won't yer 2” ‘The proposition seemed fair enough, for the young man was honest and very earnest, so I held the mule, and he went away on foot, holding the seven dotlars. While he was gone I got to thinking, and when he came back, I lay for him. “Did you get her >” I asked, as I returned the seven dollars to my pocket. “In course I did,” he replied, triumphantly, ** fer Susan's a gal uv her word.” * By the way,” T'asked, as he mounted the mule, “ why did you come to me for the money ? The mule was worth a good deal more than seven dollars, Why didn’t you call the young lady's attention to that?" *" He winked slyly as he dug his heels into the mule’s ribs. **'Caze, colonel,” he laughed aloud, ‘Susan knew hit warn't my mule.” ‘Then, as he rode away merrily toward Susan's, | pondered profoundly on what a queer little cuss Cupid is.—Boston True Flag. Sir MatTTHEW Beoste, Chief-Justice of British Columbia, recently deceased, once had before him a man charged with having killed another man with a sand-bag. The evidence was conclusive, and the judge charged the jury accordingly, but_a verdict of Not guilty " was promptly brought in, The judge was astonished, ‘+ Gentlemen of the jury,” he said, “this is your verdict not mine. On your conscience the disgrace will rest.’ Many repetitions of such conduct as yours will make trial by jury a horrible farce, and the city of Victoria a nest of crime. Go! I have nothing move to say to you.” And then, turning to the prisoner, " You are discharged. Go and sand-bag some of those jurymen ; they deserve it."—Argonaut. For ealo by ll Newntealers to Great Britain. The Iter. jews Company, Dream's Building, Chancery Lase, Eondon, #O, England, hone. id EUROrEA’ AGENTS—Memra. 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