The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-05-22

a certain old Vermont farmer remarked,
has been unfortunate in his wives" This
missionary i'd married In this country and
taken his wife with him to India. There,
says the New York Press, after two years
she died, and the broken-hearted widower
received permission from the missionary
board of his church to come home. Here
he promptly conSoled himself, and with his
secoud spouse returned to the field Of his
former labor. But fate was still unkind
and at the end of year he was once more
bereaved. Again he besought the permits
sion of his board to return home, but this
time they gently but firmly declined, say
ing that they did not feel justified in the
expense of giving him two vacations within
two years. They suggested, dehcately,
however, that IL his desire was to recoup
himself for his recent loss, 1t was possible
for him to deputize a friend to secure for
him new partner of his joys and sorrows.
This he accordingly did. and after con-
siderable correspondence and sundry delays
the twice bereaved widower received word
that the bride selected for him was on her
way TO his arms.
The day the steamer was signaled the
bridegroom elect went down to meet it, ac-
companied by a married friend. On the
return of the latter to his house he was
bounced upon by his wife, who demanded
all particulars of the meeting.
"Did Mr.. Smith seem much overcome
when he saw Miss Brown" was the first
question.
"Well-yes-a little"
Wasn't he overjoyed~
"Well-overjoyed is not just the word,
perhaps"
why, didn't he say was delighted"
"Well-no-not exactly"
"But at least, he seemed pleasedF
"Well-I don't quite know"
"For mercy's sake tell me just what he
did say and do"
"Well"-with evident reluctance. when
he saw her she was at the other end of the
deck and she was pointed out to him by the
friend she had Travelled with. Smith looked
at her for a minute, and then he passed bis
hand over his eyes and | heard him MUIR
muir:
so much prsyerw
heard them in Macy's yesterday, says
the New York World. There was a stout
woman and a thin one, the latter from the
coNntrv, but with many city ways; the for
mer a veritable female Falstef and hope
less rustic.
The weighty one said, with gasp, as she
sank on stool:
am stay here until you come down,
Eliza. L eau hO AOuA "a
stairs to any ladies' waitn' room. You 60
up an write your letter an I'll wait" she
walled.
The trim woman smiled in a superior
"You don't have to climb any stairs. Ma
mie." (Rhe IDEA of woman who weighed
$50 pounds being called "MamiepD
"Well, don't 60 in no elevator. tell
YOU that 1 wouldn't risk it. They couldn't
Nonsense. They can carry thousands OF
pounds. Come on"
II never went on one in my life, an
don't want to-"
Il took two glasses of soda and great
deal of talk before the couple reached the
| door of the elevator. 1t was pretty well
filed with people.
"Mamiem drew back obviously.
at can't carry me, aud l won't CO." she
! said
the dusky attendant closed the door her
friend said:
"Now, Mamie, you just see how you'll be
| whisked up like feather"
There was pull on the rope, but the ele
vator didn't start. Something was the
matter with the "whisking" part or 1t. An
other pull and still there was no upward
moyenentp in elevator stock. The passen'
gers eyed each other suspiciously.
"bScuse me, ladies, but t'ink dere's toe
many people in de kyar. If dat stout
lady"
But mamie" waited TO hear no more.
The earth seemed to tip as she burst OUT OF