The Port Gibson reveille. [volume] (Port Gibson, Miss.) 1890-current, 1894-10-12
THINGS WISE AND OTHERWISE.

ness clashing with your religious pro-
fessions? Deacon Smith-No, / can't
say that do. Deacon Jones--Not for
instance when you sell cotton and
wool goods that are warranted all
wool Deacon Smith-AIl such
transactions leave to my clerk. He
Is very clever salesman, and il so
happens that he is not a professor.
In the Interest Of Harmony: First
Politician-Isn't the opposing faction
to be recognized in the convention at
all Second Politician-Uertainly !!
We will allow them 10 name the min
lister who opens the proceedings with
prayer. Puck.
Offensive Virtue "WhY, Tom.
my, why did you slap sister Ethel p
"She was so good, mamma, could
not help it,"
japanese Politeness: Washing
ton Lady The feet of the ladies Of
your country are compressed, | be-
ieve +? Japanese Attache-Oh, no,
madam that is a Chinese custom.
We in Japan allow our ladies' feet to
grow to their full size (politely)-not
that they can ever hope to rival yours,
madam. Truth.
Emptiness Of the Napkin An
English nobleman, who had engaged
Rev. Rowland Hill to take charge
Of his sons education, wrote: "The
boy has talents, but he hides them in
a napkin" A few weeks later the
candid preacher sent the lad back
with this pointed message: Il have
shaken the napkin at all corners ana
found nothing in it,"
"Bromely, l hear you are going to
start housekeeping" eyes, Darling
gor." "What have you got toward
il ~ "a wife. - London It'd Bits.
81 believe in never breaking faith
with child" said Mr.. Grimm.
"Whenever l promise that boy Of
mine a licking you can bet he gets
it. t."-Indianapolis Journal.
Mrs. POpleigh (from her paper)-II
tell you, the more a man gets the
more he wants. Mr.. Popleigh (mind-
ing the twins)-Not always.-Puck.
Sandy accepted the guide wife's in
vitation with the reservation, eff /
am spared" "Weel, weel," said
the lady, elf ye're dead I'll ma ex-
pect ye.".-Ex.
Natures Grand Cathedral: care
you going to church to-day 7" asked
Mr.. Orthodox Of Mr.. Freethink.
mo" said Mr.. Freethink en-
phatically, 81 shall worship in the
grand cathedral Of nature" Half
an hour later Mr.. Freethink was
seated at a rickety deal table under
dusty tree, listening to the notes of a
wheezy orchestrion and drinking
something that looked like beer.
Mr.. Flareup (excitedlYl-Confound
the newspapers You can't believe
anything you see in them. Take the
lying sheet, I'm sick of it. (Half
an hour later.) Mr.. F.-Going to
keep that paper oil night? E? Mrs. +.
In a moment, dear. l was just
reading a lovely notice Of your speech
at the banquet last night. MIR. F.
You don't say so /! I'll stop and get
forty copies to send to my friends
Elk.
Herr Professor-You haf a remarg-
ably powerful foice, mine vrendt
Basso-Yes; do you think it would
fill 81. James Hall ? Herr Professor
Fill st. Chames' Hall Ach, mine
vrendt, 1t will not only fill St. Chames
Hall-it will empdy it Puck.
The Season of the Yellow Leaf.
Now, in this time of autumn, the
earth is full Of those pictures which
nature paints with such a bold yet
delicate hand. Perhaps it is only a
red sail skimming along the canal or
the scattered gold of the wild camo-
mile decorating fence corner, or a
graceful tree whose leaves are flecked
with crimson. Passing by some place
of tombs we see an aged man, with
silver locks and long gray beard,
whetting his curved sickle beside the
weed grown graves looking like
Father Time without his hour-glass
or Brother Death, reaping where
he has not sown. Now the waste
fields are hoar with the misty bloom
of the wild sage, over which focks Of
golden butterflies hutter in their in
consequent gayety. The thin, clear
pipe Of bird from the ragged hedge
makes itself heard in the stiffness.
The smell of sun-dried grass is ev-
erywhere; yelloWing willows, twisted
into fantastic shapes, bend over the
pools and sluggish water-couTses, as
If to shield them from the thirsty
light. The vague, sweet melancholy
Of autumn peryades the air. The
wood is haunted by wistful wirds
that sigh and cease capriciously (;
sending forth sere whisper which
runs swiftly through the leaves, and
Is as suddenly hushed. In ynnder
meadow the brush-burners are at
work, and the boughs are full Of
smoke and sunshine. Under this
tenderly veiled sky, amid the haze
which softens each angularity Of the
landscape, we find wandering joys