The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1873-11-06
HAPPY THOUGHTS.

TIE action of the soul is oftener il
that which is felt and left unsaid, thar
in that which is said in any eonversa
tion. It broods over every society, and
men unconsciously seek for it in eacl
other.-Enlersoa
AMONG the members of the Wyom
ing legislature are ''Blaok Jack Bill, >
' Prairie Joe" ''Slim Sam Shaw" and
Grizzley Graham" The speaker viii
also have to recognize tho gentleman
from " Hen-foot claim" and the gentle
mau from " Bufaloe-horn corners"
IF,.,H II soid I3,s haPRBiasss B4o We we, prize, IL.
/ And they are fools who roam;
The world hath nothing TO bestow-
From our own selves our bliss must hOw,
NaiKGsiel Cotton.
TAKE ten cents and go to Leather
dealer and get pound or two of shoe
pegs, and boil them well in molasses,
and let them stand until cold, and they
are just as good as barberries in fact,
no one can tell the difference.
Because you flourish in worldly afairp
Don't be hauty and put on airs,
With insolent pride Of station;
Don't be proud and turn up your nose,
At poorer people, in palmer clothes,
But learn for the sake Of your ulind's repose
That wealhis bubble that comes and goes
And that all proud hesh, wherever It grows,
Is subject to Irritation. Sure.
A MAN is known to his dog by the
smell to his tailor by the coat; to his
friend by the smile each of these
know him, but how little or how much,
depends on the dignity of the intelli-
gence. That which is truly and indeed
characteristic of the man is known only
to God. Rlsktn.
To BE sick is to enjoy mOnarehical pre-
negatives. Compare the silent tread and
quiet ministry, almost by the eyes only,
with which he Is served, with the care
less demeanor, the unceremonious 60
ings in and out (slapping of doors. or
leaving them OPEN of the very same
attendants, when he is getting little
better, and you will confess that from
the bed of sickness (throne let me rather
call it, to the elbow chair of GONZALES
cence, is a fall from dignity amounting
to Observation-Disclosures Lamb.
A SON of Erin once accosted a rever-
end disciple of Swedenborg thus ''Mr.
-, you say that we are to follow the
same business in heaven that wo do in
this world P'' g Yes, that is in perfect
accordance with reason for the Creator
himself is not idle, and why should his
creatures be ?'' "Well, thin, yer honor,
do paple die there ?" Certainly not
they are as immortal as the Creator
himself" "Thin I should like to
know, yer honor, what they'll find for
me to do, for I'm a grave-digger in this
world"
Roars there ever beast in his forest den,
Hear We thunder in heaven, horn among men,
On the hiilsteps maiden now and then,
Sound what may,
Answer through space thou makost again
With small delay.
Aware Of the thunder's rafting roll,
OF the winds and the waves, when without control,
OF the cries where the village shepherds strous
Reply thou l.3Sl. giyest est .,,.,-ar,,,, sor,
A. poet hvest. From hse Russt0n'
TINE divides itself into these three
continents, yesterday, to-day, and to-
morrow, each grand, and each peculiar,
and each measureless. The divinity
that presides over tomorrow is called
Hope the present has no guardian by
name, and the divinity of yesterday is
called Memory. There Is no eloquence,
no poetry, no process Of reasoning that
can do justice TO the beauty and inhu-
ence of any one of these periods. Look
ing backward and forward the heart
becomes overwhelmed with the weight
and mystery of the theme. -DaVfd r.
Ving.
.sThe hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient the sun, the oaks
Stretching IN pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods, rivers that move
IN majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green and, poured
Old ocssnas eray aud melancholIy waste,
Are but the solemn decorations al
OF the great tomb Of man. The golden SUM-
The uisnets, ali the intimate host Of heaven
Are shining on the ssd abodes OF death
Through the Etil lapse Of ages. All that tread
The globe are but handful % the tribes
1llat aiurber in its bosom. Take the wings
OF morning, and the Barcan desert pierce.
or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, aud he.trs no sound
save his own dashing, yet, the dead are tssre-"
Bryant
THERE Is q sort of homely truth
and naturalness IN some books which is
very rare to find, and yet looks cheap
enough. LONELINESS is almost as great
a merit in a book as in a house, If the
reader would abide there. II is next to
beauty, and very high art. Some
have this merit only. Very few men
can speak of nature, for instance, with
any truth. They overstep her modesty,
somehow or other, and confer no favor.
They do not speak good word for her.
The surliness with which the wood
chopper speaks Of his woods, handling
them as indiferently as his AK, is better
than the mealy-mouthed enthusiasm Of
the lover of nature. TYtOTeaU.