Will they be treated any better in their new home than they have been with us?  Will they have that confidence in their new neighbors that they have always seemed to have in us?  Well, we hope they may be always happy, and continue to do good, and when they come to die and go to St. Peter’s gate, if there is any backtalk, and they have any trouble about getting in, the good old doorkeeper is hereby assured that we will vouch for the true goodness and self-sacrificing devotion of the Milwaukee Young Men’s Christian Association, and he is asked to pass them in and charge it up to the Sun.

BUTTERMILK BIBBERS.

The immense consumption of buttermilk as a drink, retailed over the bars of saloons, has caused temperance people to rejoice.  It is said that over two thousand gallons a day are sold in Milwaukee.  There is one thing about buttermilk, in its favor, and that is, it does not intoxicate, and it takes the place of liquor as a beverage.  A man may drink a quart of buttermilk, and while he may feel like a calf that has been sucking, and want to stand in a fence corner and bleat, or kick up his heels and run around a pasture, he does not become intoxicated and throw a beer keg through a saloon window.

Another thing, buttermilk does not cause the nose to become red, and the consumer’s breath does not smell like the next day after a sangerfest.  The complexion of the nose of a buttermilk drinker assumes a pale hue which is enchanting, and while his breath may smell like a baby that has nursed too much and got sour, the smell does not debar his entrance to a temperance society.

FISHING FOR PIECES OF WOMEN.

There are lots of ludicrous scenes to be observed on the railroads and conductors are loaded with stories that would cause a marble monument to keep its sides a laughing.  Some day we are going to borrow a conductor, and take him out in the woods, and place a revolver to his head and make him deliver a lot of stories.  The other day as conductor Fred Underwood’s train from Chicago, arrived on the trestle work on the south side, the whistle blew, the air break was touched off, and the train came up standing so quick that a woman lost her false teeth in the sleeper, and everybody’s hair stood up like a mule’s ears.  Every window had a head out, and when the conductor got out on the platform he saw the engineer and fireman on the ends of the ties looking down into the mud and water, shading their eyes as though looking for the eclipse.