The eight miles an hour limit has been set, on horse-motion in Morenci. As Prof. Cook will teach the Munith school, it is expected that the work will be "well done." Rawsonville has a lot of muttonkilling dogs. Stil), under the matchless McKinley machinery, wool is low. The Pontiac Gazette was half a century old last week, and hasn't the rheumatism or a joint that cracks. Our city dads had a high old time at the council meeting on Monday evening. - Lansing Democrat. What, drunk again! Rev. Horace Palmer, of Adrián, "fences" against Satan part of the time, and the rest of the time sells Page wire fence. Dr. Brown, of Jonesville, was recently so severely walked on by his horse that he is in bed sympathizing with some of his patients. Frank E. Meyer, a university medical graduate, armed with a pill case, has has swooped down on Whittaker and joined the grand army of those who live by others dying. "Jimmy" Henry one of the best known characters of Adrián died last week. "Jimmy" was 85 years old, a bachelor and a great freind of the small boys. He was an humble ditcher, but frugal, and died worth $7,000. The jail record is small, only eight persons being registered there during this month. - Charlotte Tribune. The officers must be strangely direlict of their duty. C. N. Flantburgh, of BunkerHill, Ingham county, sold this season over $1,000 worth of strawberries from less than three acres of ground. And yet we hear every day that farming don't pay! The "off hoss" of the Adrián chemical engine, has "Pingreed," that is, he will be consarnedly and eternally kicked to death by geese, if he ever pulls another pound in the harness. He has balked "for good." A Charlotte woman is in jail, charged with slandering another woman. It is as much as a woman's liberty is worth in Charlotte, to cali another woman "a mean dirty thing with a nose-wart and a skewawed bonnet." Jackson people are demanding a $5,000 clock in the top of the tower of its new postoffice building. Since the Jackson man "to the manor born" is said to take a drink once an hour, what do they want of a town clock? Coldwater whiskey produces the most profound sleep. A drummer tried it the other day, and lying down by the railroad, slept off his tan shoes, gold ring and $4 cash. A tramp who saw him says nobody touched him. "Major Seymour Howell did not give any reasons for his action when he suddenly announced on Friday his withdrawal from the canvass for the state treasurership." Thus says the Detroit Tribune Phonograph. That's "Phonny." Must be the politician didn't read the Telegram interview. The Tribune is so "awfully" posted on second district politics. - Adrián Telegram. A poor, hungry footpad met Adelbert Shepardson, of Jackson, "under the gaslight," and requested money to keep him from starving. Shepardson said he had none but he "lied like a thief," for he had 50 in his breeches at that moment, and when the famishing footpad told him to "dig up" his cash, Shepardson skinned his face with a pair of steel knuckles and passed along. The Milan B. C. C. played with the Ann Arbor Browns here last Friday afternoon. Did they get beat? Well, we should say they did. Who? Why, Milan, of course. Very bad? W-e-11 kinder bad. But But then, it wasn't their fault if they couldn't get to first base before the ball did, they ran as fast as they could. When the game ended the score stood 14 to o. What! That's what it did. - Milan Leader. The prohibitionists of Lenawee county are as lively as wigglers in a rain barrel. They are also beginning to lose some of the restraint that once marked the party and to express themselves in that free, opengaited style, common to the old parties. For instance, one delégate who attend the county convention last week remarked: "I came down here to see the corpse. I had heard that the Prohibition party was dead. But, it! it won't stay dead." A sneak who jumped a restaurant bill at Wayne and was arrested as "John Doe" and compelled to settle at a costly figure, also worked the ofñcer's game on Emmanuel Baird, whose son was lately drowned near Ypsilanti. He came, he said, to have Mr. Baird pay $60 for a watch his son purchased just before his death. The bereaved parent did not have $60, but gave the sharp enough to pay his livery bill. It would not viólate the game law to shoot this "Doe" on sight. We wanted to sass back at the Ann Arbor Argus man this week, but we dassent: we wanted to give him fits for rrediting one of our choicest editorials to the Plymouth Mail; but the Argus man is always loaded, and we don't care to get in the way of his old shot gun. - Stockbridge Sun. The Argus herewith tenders its breezy contemporary an apology for the blunder. The Sun is too good a paper to be cheated out of its credits. We hope also, by this confession of error, to escape a libel suit by the Plymouth, Mail.