Morning journal and courier., 1880-03-09
GREAT AMERICAN TRAVELLERS.

sThe father of twins." says the Cleveland Voice, ''is botanical curiosity-a double poppy. as it were."
 It is said the Vassar College girl who caught cold by drinking water from damp tumbler Is sconvalescent. Argus.
 Somebody says that the Czar has as many lives as cat But that remains to be proved. There are four more chances for the cats rep utation.-New York Mail.
 The Boston Post thinks that St. Louis girls ought to find contentment in the fact that they can hold more pins in their mouths at one time than any other girls can. The statement is going around that Lotta is B years old. Of course she doesn't look it, and we wish to state that the figures have by some means been ransposed.-Boston Post.
 Thomas McEIrath, of Marlborough, vic tim of insomnia, has not slept for twelve years, and offers liberal reward for cure We recommend him to join police force Brooklyn Eagle.
 A French physician has published pamph- let showing the terrible s'effects of smoking on the heart" Of course, if man will take out his heart and smoke on it, he is bound to endanger his life.-Norristown Herald. Suggestion gratis-Won't somebody start 8 relief fund in behalf of s'the poor, miserable sinners" so frequently alluded to by the cler- gy? As class they appear to be numerous, and charity, you know, begins at home Puck.
 A native of the Green Isle was pressed by the collector of a water company for payment of the water rate; to which modest request he returned the following answer Sure, I pay tin shillings year for wather, and many's the day it's of for a whole wake ]" "How much are these goods yard ?" said e gentleman in dry goods store the other day, as he picked up and examined piece of ruffied silk Good gracious !" cried the hor rified clerk, ''that isn't for salel That's the end of lady's train She's just gone up to the third story in the elevator"
 Let no one affirm that dog-dealers do not understand good manners. distinguished lady, having purchased dog from a worthy vender, inquired his name. "William," he responded, after some hesitation. William! is not that little odd?" HWeI, ma'am, we calls him Bill, but don't like to say that to the likes O you"
 If there is any place in this world where men live, so locked in and guarded by solemn voiceless hills and quiet, peaceful valleys, so mountains, that sin and penitence do not go dropping through the hearts of the people who live there, would go there tomorrow. Or, at least, would if could get pass over that road. don't know that would like to walk there.-Burdette.
 The Boston 2iri6 are Eu6nlnS 1ntO VlOuulty in way that is terribly suggestive of the horrors which unborn generations are to sup upon-which reminds us of an incident. At one of the evening fddling schools the ''pro- fessor'' asked one of the misses rather abrupt ly, ssWhere is your bow, Miss Rosinwell ?" s'Oh," she said, abstractedly, 'he's waiting for me outside, guess" And then every drop of blood rushed into her face, and, when she began to practice her violin gave vent to cries as of some one undergoing torture. If it felt all the venom the young lady put into her work the cries were all too mild in their heart rending weirdness. She was just as mad as she could be.
 In the morn he brightly rose,
 Clear of mind and strong of limb,
 Found beside his pillow laid
 box some enemy sent him.
 Opened he the present then, Saw what he had never seen;
 Blocks therein and numbered all,
 One to fifteen, al between. Waiteth not to eat or drink; Waiteth not to sleep or think;
 Quickly graspeth he the box;
 Moveth here and there the blocks.
 Easy moves from one to seven;
 All in place from one to ieven.
 Then reversed the figures stand,
 Thirteen, fifteen, fourteen, and
 Twelve is also out Of place.
 Wearily he wipes his face, Rubs his head and rubs his nose;
 He do it, well he knows.
 Hours fly, and still he moves
 Backward. forward, nothing proves. Fifteen, fourteen, nine and ten,
 Still no nearer to the end.
 Twelve and thirteen, eight and seven, Then he gets mixed up on Ieven.
 Night is come and day has gone,
 Still the labor is not done.
 Morning with it's smiling facs
 Finds him in the self-same place;
 Haggard looks and vacant stare
 Fastened the puzzle there;
 Nothing moves him from the spot,
 He's gibbering idiot.
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