nd drove the antmires
out of a sandwich, and handed it to him on a piece of shingle, but he
either passed or turned it down. He said he couldn't take a trick. Later
on, when the lemonade was brought on, the flies were skimmed off of some
of it, and a little colored water was put in to make it look inviting,
but his eyes were sot. He said they couldn't fool him. After what had
occurred, he didn't feel as though any Democrat was safe. He expected to
be poisoned on account of his politics, and all he asked was to live to
get home.

Nothing was left undone to rally him, and cause him to forget the
fearful scene through which he had passed. Only once did he partially
come to himself, and show an interest in worldly affairs, and that was
when it was found that he had sat down on some raspberry jam with his
white pants on. When told of it, he smiled a ghastly smile, and said
they were all welcome to his share of the jam.

They tried to interest him in conversation by drawing war maps with
three-tined forks on the jam, but he never showed that he knew what
they were about until Mr. Moak, of Watertown, took a brush, made of
cauliflower preserved in mustard, and shaded the lines of the war map on
Mr. Cha-pin's trousers, which Mr. Butterfield had drawn in the jam. Then
his artistic eye took in the incongruity of the colors, and he gasped
for breath, and said:

"Moak, that is played out. People will notice it."

But he relapsed again into semi-unconsciousness, and never spoke again,
not a great deal, till he got home.

He has ordered that there be no more borrowing of sugar and drawings of
tea back and forth between his house and that of the lady who broke his
heart, and he has announced that he will go without saurkraut all winter
rather than borrow a machine for cutting cabbage of a woman that would
destroy the political prospects of a man who had never done a wrong in
his life.

He has written to the chairman of the Democratic State Central Committee
to suspend judgment on his case, until he can explain how it happened
that a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat hurrahed for Garfield.

A LIVELY TRAIN LOAD.

Last week a train load of insane persons were removed from the Oshkosh
Asylum to the Madison Asylum. As the train was standing on the sidetrack
at Watertown Junction it created considerable curiosity. People who have
ever passed Watertown Junction have noticed the fine old gentleman who
comes into the car with a large sq