Recently a distinguished minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church, of which Dr. Parker is a truly consistent member, felt constrained to preach an eloquent discourse on the crying shame and sin and danger of kissing. That crazy jade, gossip, proclaimed that the ‘counterblast’ referred to was directly induced by some fond expressions of Dr. Parker. Encountering our excellent friend on the highway, we essayed to rally him on his ‘peculiarity.’ He thus ingenuously parried the thrust. ‘Why,’ quoth he, ‘an ancient maiden patient of mine avows that she don't believe the idle story; that I never tried to kiss her!’ A year or so ago Dr. Parker paid us a visit in our time-worn house in which he spent his childhood hours. The bump of philoprogenitiveness of the Doctor is very large. Whilst with us he seemed much taken with the airs of the hope of our mature years, a little boy then not three years old. Upon leaving, our friend desired to salute the tot. It was impossible for the infant to reach up to the towering figure. The difficulty was in a jiffy overcome. We were surprised to see the Doctor drop on his knees, embrace the little one, and as quickly resume his feet. There could be no discussion as to the grace of the act, and we only felt that our boy had been ‘blessed’ in the kiss of so good a man. Ah! the heart of the good Doctor is filled with the milk of human kindness; it is expansive. We believe that it embraces every man, woman, and child worthy of his love. Yet, the erstwhile spirit militant in him is scarce diminished. His spear is ever atilt in the cause of what he deems the right or toward the suppression of wrong. He goes into every encounter, too, with visor up. He is a manly antagonist, and scorns subterfuge. In action no one in our community has been more constant in effort in the cause of humanity. In eleemosynary provision no one has been more influential. A multitude will rise to call him blessed. Thousands will cherish him in grateful remembrance. We trust that posterity will duly commemorate his consecrated life-work of mercy and charity, and that his loved form will yet be given place in this dedicated City of Monuments.—Ed.]Dr. W. W. Parker's recent address before Pickett Camp on ‘How I Kept House During the War,’ was in the bright vein that marks all of the sayings and writings of that gentleman, and was greatly enjoyed by the large company of ladies and gentlemen who heard it. The well-known physician and philanthropist said: Commander of Pickett Camp, Ladies, and Gentlemen. I have been frequently honored by the members of your Camp with an invitation to address you on some war subject; but as often declined, till lately your commander repeated the invitation, and, thinking I might say something new, perhaps, as to how much more effectual artillery might be made in battle, in my opinion, I consented to write a short paper on the subject. But I was surprised a
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