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BY S. B. CRAFTOI. SARDERSVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1852. VOL. VI-~m IT. THE CENTRAL GEORGIAN IS PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY MORNING, TERMS : If paid strictly in advance, per year, $1 50 If not paid at the time of subscribing, 00 These terms will be strictly adhered TO, WITHOUT RESPECT TO PERSONS, AND ALL SUBSCRIPTIONS WILL BE REQUIRED TO BE SET TLED UP EVERY'YEAR. Advertise ments not exceeding twel /e lines, will be inserted at one dollar for the first in sertion, and fifty cents for each continuance! Advertisements not having the number of in sertions specified, will be published until for bid. Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Administrators and Guardians, are required by law to be advertised in a public gazette forty days previous to the day of sale. The sale of Personal Property must be ad vertised in like manner at least ten days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an es tate ir ust be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of ordinary for leave to sell Land and Negroes, must be published weekly foi two months. Citations for letters of administration must- be published thirty days—for dismission from administration, monthly for six months— for dis mission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for foreclosure of Mortgage must be published monthly for four months—for estab lishing lost papers, for the full space of three months—for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has been giv en by the deceased, the full space oj 3 months. Publications will always be continued ac cording to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. All letters on business must be vosl-paid POETRY. Tlie Source of Joy. Joy springs in the heart that is tender and kind, Like a fountain that kisses and toys with the wind; Whence rills trickle softly to blend with the ground, Spreading freshnes and verdure and beauty around. O! sftek not for joy in the depth of the bowl, Nor quench in its poison the fire of the soul; Each draught leaves a seed that will quick en and bear An Upas wither with grief and despair. No! revelling yields not the bliss we desire. Though poets have sung in it3 praise to the lyre; True happiness flows in a still silent stream, Not whirling in eddies, as some fondly dream. It is found in the peace and comforts of home, It is lost to the heart when in exile we roam; It is glimpsed in the smiles of faces we love, Like a star beaming forth from its station above. But it blesses not those who branded with guilt For the victim betrayed, or the blood idly spilt;. It flies from the miser, the selfish, the proud, And eludes their pursuit till they lie in the shroud. Be kind to thy neighbor, but stern to thy self, Grant free to wretches the aid of thyself; Press hopefully forward-—the treasure is thine, A treasure more precious than lurks in the mine! The Sabballi Bell. BY ELIZA COOK. Peal on, peal on—I love to hear The old church ding-dong soft and clear! The welcome sounds are loudly blest With future hope and earthly rest; Yet were no calling changes found To spread their cheering echoes round, There’s not a place where man may dwell, But he can hear a <Sabbath bell. Go to the woods when winter’s song Howls like a famished wolf along, Or when the south winds scarcely turn The light leaves of the trembling fern- Although no cloister-chimes ring there, The heart is called to faith and prayer; For all Creation’s voices tell The tidings of the Sabbath bell. Go to the billows, let them pour In gentle calm or headlong roar; Let the vast ocean be thy home, Thoul’t find a God upon the foam; In rippling swell or stormy roll, The crystal waves shall wake thy soul, And thou shalt feel the hallowed spell Of the wide water’t Sabbath bell. The lark upon his skyward way, The robin on the hedge-way spray, The bee within the wild thyme’s bloom, The owl amid the cypress gloom; All sing, in every varied tone, A vesper to the great Unknown; Above—below—one chorus swells Of God’s unnumbered Sabbath bells. MISCELLANEO US.- BEAUTIFUL SKETCH. I have worshipped blue eyes, and there is 10 radiance so heavenly as that which ;leams from them. But black are more >ewildering ; and when a shadow of mel- mcholy falls over the forehead, it softens heir beauty, while it does not dim them. * * * If vou will go with me now o a glen in the Highlands, and a willow haded nook, I will point out to you the r ery spot where,'years ago, tnere stood a ude bench, on which many times I have een the fair girl I now write of sitting, and >y which I once saw her kneeling. The ottage under the hill is occupied by stran gers, and its broad hall and large rooms low ring to the laughter of those that know not her whose gentle spirit haunts their very chambers. She was beautiful as a dream. Never was holier forehead^ shaded by raven^tres- ses ; never were tresses so glorious as those. If I tell you that I loved Sarah D j • - will call me an enthusiast, and ascribe my admiration to my passion. I did love her, but only as a boy worships a being very far above him. I used to lie at her feet oil the grass, and gaze into her face, and watch the play of her exquisite features. It was there I learned first, how high, and pure, and worshipful, humanity may be. She was young and beautiful. What need to add that she was loved, for such as she lives on affection, and die for lack of it! Her father devoted his fortune and his life to her ; a:id she was heiress to a large es tate. As might be expected, she had num berless suitors of every rauk and variety. I cannot now remember all of them, although I kept, the run of them tolerably well. But of all there were only two that appeared to have any prospect of success ; and the vil lage gossips were occupied in discussing their relative diauces. Frank R was the gayest, best heart ed fellow in the world, and had you seen him on his horse by the side of Sarah D— you would have said that he was made for her, so wild was his laugh, and so joyous her response. Yet, had you been behind rlie closed shutter of the window in front of the large white house on the hill, as they tode by, and you there watched the com pressed lip, the broad, calm forehead, the pale and the speaking eye of Josoph 8= over, since then, though the iron has enter ed my soul and seared and scarred it, yet, I have never seen, and I do not believe d have ever felt, more agony than those two felt, as they parted that night to meet no more on earth. He bowed his lips to her forehead* and murmured the solemn word “forever.” She woke at this word, and exclaimed with startling vehemence-— “No, no, there’s no such word, Jo.” “We shall not meet again on earth, my gentle one.” “And what is earth?” Her tall form grew more“qneeulv, and her dark eye flash ed divinely, as she rose and exclaimed in clear aud silvery tones—And what is earth ! These things must end. I will name a tryst dear Joe, and you shall keep it. If yon pass first into the other, land wait for ine on the bank, and if i do hence before vou, I will linger on the other shore until you come. Will you remember ?’ “I will live and die in this memory.” She lifted her face to his, aud her arms to his neck, and they clung together in a long and passionate embrace. Their lips did not separate, but.‘were pressed close to gether, until be felt her form cold, and her clasped relaxed, and he laid her down on the old seat, bowed over ment in prayer, and he was gone, him say, “Take care of her W An Aimtsiug Siorf< Hooper, the editor of an Alabama jour nal whose name we just now forget, but which has almost always something in it to make us laugh tells the following capital 1 yarn: “Shall I tell you a bit ©f a story, having no connection with polities, this hot, dry wealher. By permission— “Old Col. 1) , of the Mobile dis trict, was one of the most singular charac ters ever known in Alabama. He was testy aud eccentric, but possessed many fine qual ities. whieh were fully appreciated by the people of the district. Many , of his freaks are fresh in the memory of the “old uns” of Mobile—and all of them will tell you that the Colonel though hard to beat, was terri bly taken in by a couple of legal tyros. It is George W oodard, I believe, tells the story, but however that may be, it is in keeping with others related of ihe old gentleman. “It seems that Col. D had a mis understanding with the two gentlemen al luded to and was not on speaking terms with them, altho all of the three were profession ally riding the circuit pretty much together. The young ones, being well aware of the Colonel’s irracible nature, determined, as gently I they left one of the courts for another, to a mo-: have some sport at his expense by the way. 1 heard ! They according got about half an hours’s ,”and ; start on the leaving, and presently they ar- as he saw them passing, you would have prayed to God that that fair girl might be long to that noble man, even as I, a boy, then prayed. God lias answered my prayers. When the long way was traveled over, and the rugged and difficult steed surmounted— when her fairy foot was pressed on Die rock at the summit of the hill of life, and her eyes gazed into the deep blue sky, with a long ing gaze, there, even there, beyond the blue bis outstreched arms received her, and his embrace was heaven ! Go preach to blocks and stones, ye who believe that love is of the clay ! Go preach to the dead, ye who deny tlie immortality of the affections. Go reason with trees 1 or images of wood, or with your owu motion- le s, lifeless, icy souls, ye who believe that, because there is no marrying yonder, there shall be no embracing, or because we may not use the gentle words “my wife,” we may not clasp these sanctified forms into our own holy arms I tellj you, man, that immortality would !e a glorious cheat, it with our clay died all our first affections. I tell you, that annihilation would be heav en, if I believed that when my head at length rests on its coffined pillow" and my lips sink to the sslence and repose of death these loving eyes will never look into mine again, this pure clasp never be around my neck, this holy caress never bless me more ! But see how I hasten in advance of my story. And yet, like Canning’s knife grin der, I remember now that I have no story to tell, or at best it is a simple story. She loved Joe. His calm aud earnest way oflov.ng her, won her whole soul. He did not say much to her in company, nor of her ; but when they were alone, or only some of the children near, his low voice would be musical, and she sot entranced with its eloquence. I have seeen them sea ted on a bench by the side of the stream, and have heard him lead her gentle soul, 6 tep by step, with him from earth to stars, and then from star to star, until she seem ed to be in heaven with hiui* and listening to the praises of the angels. I am unable to tell how it happened Jo seph g j e ft his profession jwhich had j so 1 strove to recall the life that had gone I rived at a broad dark stream, that looked as from her lips, and cheeks, and eyes. It if it might be a dozen feet deep, but which, came slowly, and she awoke as we wake in iu reality, was hardly more than as many the morning after death has entered our • inches. Crossing it they alighted, pulled charmed circle, with an oppression on the off' their coats and boots and sat down qui- brain, and a swimming, swollen^ senseless- | etly to watch for the old “Tartar.” ness of soul. j “Jogging along, at length came up the At length she remembered all ; and old, fellow. He looked at first at the young- raised herself with a half articulated excla-! sters who were gravely drawing on their illation of agony, broken by a sob; and boots aud coats as if they bad just had a then fell on her knees by the bench aud swim—and then be looked at the broad buried her face in her hand, and remained creek that rolled before him like a fluent thus for nearly an hour. j translucent star. The Colonel was awfully When she arose, her face was as the puzzied. face of an angel. It wore that same exal- j “is this creek swimming?” he growled af- ted look until she died. ; ter a pause of some moments. 1 think she took cold that night; she j “No reply was made—the young men was never well aftewards, and the next j simply mounted their horses rode off some winter she passed at the South, returning I little distance and stopped to v*a'ch our in the spring very fragile, but very beauti- : hero. f u ]. ” j “The Col. slowly divested himself of boots, Joseph S was sent abroad by one coat, pantaloons and drawers. These he of the Board of Missions of the Church, but neatly tied up in his hankerehief and hung his health failed, and he resigned his com- j them on the horn of the saddle, then he re mission, while he traveled through the Eas-; mourned, and as he was a fat, short man, tern world. I with paunch of inordinate size, rather inad- Three years fled with their usual swift-j equate legs, a face like a withered apple, and ness. To Sarah D , they were very ! a brown wig, there is no doubt he made an been the law,) and entered . the ministry ; nor am I able to state, though I might o-uess at the cause operating in his own mind. The father of Sarah D- was not a religious mau, and I am sorry to say, was one of the small cl ass of men who not only deny the truths of our most holy creed, but took every opportunity to cast ridicule on its teachers. It was, therefore, with great pain that his daughter observed his cold- and rudeness to Joseph S , and slow and painful years, yet she was happy | interesting picture as he bestrode his steed, in her quiet way, and no one dreamed of I with the breeze holding gentle dalliance” the strange tryst she was longing to keep j with the extremities of his only garment, on the other side of the dark river which i “Slowly and cautiously did the old gen- men so shrink from. She grew feeble daily ; tleman and his horse take the creek. Half as the summer and autumn advanced, and a length—and the water was not fetlock in December she was evidently dying. ! deep. Here the horse stopped to drink. A One day her mother had beeu out of the length—a half—and the stream no deeper! house, perhaps making calls ; she returned | Thirty feet farther, and a decided shoaling! ... n reined up. “There —of a swift deep the bank. See at evening, atul among other incidents of news which she had learned, she mention ed to Sarah the death of her old friend Jo seph S The fair girl was reclining in a large arm chair, looking out through the closed win dow, at the snow on the ground, and the pure moonlight which silvered it. There was no startling emotion visible as her “Here Colonel D- must,” said he, “be a h— channel between this and how tlie water runs. We will dash through.” “A sharp lash made the horse spring the watery waste and another carried the horse and rider safely to the opposite bank. The creek was nowhere more than a foot deep. “A wild yell from the young ’uns an- mother mentioned the tact, which to her j nounced their approbation of the sport as was the most solemn yet most joyful news ' they galloped away. the world could give; for now, how much “FU catch you, you rascals,” was nearer was their meeting! I saw a smile flash 1 ground between Colonel D ’s teeth; news reached | aud away be galloped in hot- pursuit, mut- across her face as the joyful her ear. I saw her forehead raised to re ceive the caress which I knew she felt. She was silent for many minutes, and then was not surprised however much she was grieved, when an open rupture rendered the suspension of his visits at the house ab solutely necessary. They had never spoken of love. Each knew the secret of the other s atiection, aud what need of words to tell it/ It would have been but a repetition ot hackneyed phrases. * And yet there is no music in the world so sweet as those three words, “I love you,” from the lips we love to kiss. But the father of our gentle friend had feared the existence of some bond between them, and peremptorily required his daughter to break it if it did exist. . She replied to him, relating the simple truth, and he desired her to refuse thence forward to see or to speak to Joseph. A month of deeper pain than can well be imagined, succeded this command, during which they did not meet. It was on a moonlight night in August spoke in feeble, yet very musical accents, and I boyishly wept aloud. Then she smil ed, and looked at me with finger upraised and said : “Wait a little while longer, Dear W—.’ And then, after a moment, shesaid ‘Moth er, i s the snow very deep ?” “Not very dear ; why do you ask ?” “Because, if it were deep, 1 thought it wouid be difficult for old Mr. Smith to fiud our lot in the grave-yard. Are all the head stones covered, mother ?” “What is the matter, Sarah ? What if the are covered ?” “Mother, dear, it is useless to conceal it | from ourselves, or from one another. You know% and I quite as well, that I am dying. I have not wished to live, only for one thing I did not for life, and I dreaded to meet death alone ! But now I shall not. W that she walked out with me, (then a boy three years her junior,) and sat on the;; bench by the side of the stream. I he air was elvar, the sky serene, and no sound disturbed, but the soft voice of tne wind a- rnong the tree tops made a pleasant music, , and we listened and were silent The still-. ness was broken by the voice of Joseph b.— j You will pardon me if I pass ovei that scene. I dare not attempt a description of, it. It was my first lesson m human suffer ,1 in*, and though Ihaive learned it over and will tell you what I mean when I am gone. Yes, gone dear mother; 1 shall not be here any longer. This chair will stand here, aud father aud you will rise and walk about and visit, and go in and out, and sleep and wake again, and so on, day after day, and I shall have no part any longer in your cares and joys, dear mother.”—And as she uttered the last two words, she put her arms aronnd her mother’s neck, and kissed her fondly, and sank back into her chair a- gain. I sat at her feet watching her match less features. A smile was flitting| across them, now there, now gone, yet each time it appeared, it lingered longer than before, until it became fixed, and so holy, so very holy, that I grew bewildered as I gazed, and a strange tremor passed through my body. The breath of peace was fanning her glo rious brow ! Her head was bowed a very little forward, and a tress, uscaping from its bond, fell by thesiee of her pure white temple, and close to her opened lips. It hung there motionless 1 No breath dis turbed its repose! She slept-asAn angel tering vengeance on bis foes. “On—on—they sped, pursuer and pur sued. The youngsters laughed, yelled, and screamed—the-Colonel damned with mighty emphasis, while his shirt fluttered and crack led in the wind like a loose flying jib. “On—on—and the pursued reached the farmhouse on the road side. Their passing startled a flock of geese from a fence corner, which, as the Colonel dashed up met him with outspread wings, elongated necks, and hisses dire. His horse swerved suddenly, and the Colonel in a moment was upon the ground, in a most unromantic “heap,” with his gowu and wig by his side and his bun dle of clothes scattered around. “The white headed children of the house came out first, took a distant view of the monster—as seemed to them—and then re turned to report progress. After a little the father came and the affair being ex plained, he assisted the Colonel in making his toilette; the Colonel swearing, and the countryman laughing all the while. “Dressed and mounted, our hero started off with a wofui phiz, and was soon out of sight.” Worse and Worse.—Already this week there have been eight cases of murder, hom icide, or deadly assault, in this city, by the knife, the pistol, or brutal violence, and three of the sufferers are already dead! A gen tleman was twice fired at in Broadway, yes terday morning, about four o’clock, and the bone of his arm was badly shattered. So much for the teachings of the Tribune and its infernal clique. Every ruffian now ac knowledges the supremacy of the “higher law.”—JN. Y. Daybook. Father, is there any boys in Con gress?” “No, my son, why do you ask that question?” “Because the papers said the other day, that one of the members kicked Mr. BrownV Dill out of the House.” The phrase “don’t hollow till you’re out of the wood,” is in the refined language of the day, rendered^Ht is not advisable for rea mi'zhrsteep/iiaving accomplished Iho ms-laoMble bipeds to ewrttheit *«»' powe» sion of her<Jod. in. boundless contiguity ofehede. Mr. Tvrombly’s Mistake. Mr. Thomas Twomb y had drank but six glases of brandy and water, when, being n man of discretion, he returned home at the seasonable hour of 1, A. M., and went so berly to bed. Mrs. Twoinbly was too ac customed to the comings and goings of said Thomas, to be much disturbed by the trifling noise he made on retiring; but w hen she discovered he had his boots on, she re quested him to remove them, or keep his feet out of the bed. “My dear,” said Mr. Twombly, in an ap ologetic tone, “skuse me. How I came to forget the boots, 1 can’t conceive, for Fin just as sober as ever I was in rqy life!” Mr. Twombly sat on the side of his bed, and made an effort to pull off his right boot. The attempt was successful, though it brought him to tlie floor. On regaining his feet, Mr. Twombly thought he saw the door open. As he was sure he shut the door on coming he was astonished, and, dark as it was in the room, he couldn’t be mistaken, he felt certain. Mr. Twornbly staggered towards the door to close it; when, to his still greater surprise he saw a figure ap proach from beyond. Twombly stopped— the figure stopped. Twombly advanced again, and the figure did the same. Twom- blv raised his right hand—the figure raised its left. “Who’s there?” roared Twombly, begin ning to be heightened. The object made no reply. Twombly raised his boot in a menacing attitude. The figure defied him by shaking a similar object. “By the Lord!” cried Twombly; “I’ll find*' out who you be, you sneakin’ cuss!” He hurled the boot full at the head of bis mys terious object, when—crash! went the big looking glass, which Twornbly had mista ken for the dbcfr. What is Life.—The following beautiful description, in answer to this question, is from Rev. Mr. Mountford Eutbanasy. “The present life is sleeping and waking; it is ‘Good Night’ on going to bed, and ‘Good Morning’ on getting up; it is to wonder 7 what the day will briDg forth; it is sunshine and gloominess; it is rain on the window, as one sits by the fire; it is to walk in the garden, and see the flowers open, and hear the birds sing; it is to have the postman bring letters; it is to have news from East, West, North and South; it is to read old books and new books; it is to see pictures and hear music; it is to have Sundays; it is to pray with a family morning and evening; it is to sit in the twilight and meditate; it is to be well, and sometimes ill; it is to have business to do, and to do it: it is tQ have breakfast, and dinner and tea; it is to belong to a town, and to have neighbors, and to be one in a circle of acquaintances; it is to have friends to love one; it is to have sight of dear ffid faces; and with some men it is to be kiss eft daily by the same loving lips for fifty years; and it is to know themselves thought of many times a day, in many -places, by children,Jgrand-children, and many friends.’ An Ancient Law Suit.—The fictitious case of Jarndyee vs. Jamdyee, on which Dickens has founded the “Bleak House,” is almost paralleled by the real case of Beck- ford vs. Jasper, which was begun in the English Court of Chancery more than a hundred years ago, and has but recently beeu settled. The London Observer says that: “The original plaintiff was Thomas Beck ford, executor of one James Pope, a mer chant in Madeira, and Edward Jasper, also a merchant, was the orignal defendant. Jas per owed Pope £10.000, and Pope died in 1743, and in 1748 Beckford, his executor, filed this bill against Jasper, who died be fore he could put in an answer. The suit was revived against Jasper’s executors, aud in 1753 the cause was heard before Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, and referred to the Master to take accounts. In 1764 and 1772, further proceedings were taken, and £930 in Bank stocky and £555, were lodged to the credit of the cause, which then slept un til 1851, when Mr. J. D. Wadham obtained administration to Pope the original testator, and revived the bill against Jasper’s repre sentatives. The fund to the credit of the cause had, by accumulation of dividends, houses, &c., amounted to £70,000. Wad ham had to take out administration to five intermediate estates, and to pay £778 for the stamp duties. The case is now wound up by an order to pay the costs of all par ties out of the funds in court, and to share the remainder according to the respective rights of the claimants.” Personal Habits of Presidential Candi* dates.—The N. Y. Mirror has % sprightly article on the personal habits of Presiden tial candidate*, and so forth. We quote: “The Presidents of the United States, with one or two exceptions have been remarkably abstemious men from Washington down. General Harrison drank whiskey and died. General Taylor eat cucumbers and cherries^ and drank injik, and died. Mr. Fillmore^ who is “temperate in all things,” sticks to cold water, and ‘keeps cool” through all weathers—some of his tyiends thinks a lit tle too cool. Of the candidate* now before the people, General Scott is an epicure; General Pierce a convive; and John P. Jlale, a “hale fellow,” who likes a good glass of kolpVhiskey punch before going to bed on a cbkl night. But does any reasonable man suppose that eith er of these candidates, if elected, would be guilty of any deflections from this straight line of dignified sobriety? Not at all. YVhen a man becomes President of the United States, the very dignity of the position, and the responsibility attached to it, will keep him perpendicular^;?/- force. There is noth ing left for him but the honorable discharge of bis duties. The highest earthly amfl- tion is gratified; the highest round upon the political ladder is attained. General Scott, if elected, will have neith er time nor taste for excessive indulgence in pac de frois yras; and Gen. Pierce will plaoe a double guard at the weakest entrance to the citadel of his honor Many of the greatest and best men that have ever lived have been at times a little boozy with the.ir boon companions. Even the gods have been caught nodding with too much nectar, but we have no fears that any man who can 1 e el.i'ed to the Presidency of the United States will ever disgrace himself, his posi tion, or the party who placed him in it, by habits of inebriety or gross indulgences of any description. Working on the Sabbath.—There are a great many people who progress to keep the Sabbath, according to the fourth com mandment, bat who somehow or other al ways had a multitude of “works of necessi ty” to be 1 attended to. We have seen a capital anecdote lately, about a family of such people, who were pretty severely re buked by a colored man in their employ. The family were farmers. Ono Sabbath morning, the colored man not, as usual, at breakfast. The son was sent to call him; but Caesar said they need not wait for him as he did not wish for an breakfast. “Why, Caesar,” said the young man, “wo shall want you as soon as the dew is ofl^ to help about the hay.” “No,” said he, “I cannot work any more on the Sabbath, itfonot right,” “Is not rightl’ said the other, “it is not right to take care of wbat Providence ban given us?” “O, there is no necessity for it,* said he* “and ’its wrong to do it.” “But would yon not pull your oow 6t sheep out of the pit on th.e Sabbath, Caasarl” “No, not if I had been trying all the week to shove them is; 1 would tell them to’ lie- there. The Poles in Heq>- York.—A New-Yc*k letter says:— The exiles of Poland, to the number of over sixty, assembled in this city a few eve nings since, and formed themselves into an association “for the purpose—as they say in their published address-—of assisting their destitute countrymen either already in A- merica or those who may aflRve; and, furth er, to unite all patriotic Polish element* spread over America in such a manner as to enable us to become, together with similar corporations in Europe, a pillar of the re generating and freeing of Poland.” Suspension—“I have called to collect 8 bill of your father,” said a gentleman to » youth who was .sitting in-his father’s count ing-room. “Well,”said the precocious lad, “father won’t pay you—he has suspended.” “Suspended, what do you mean? He was a rich man yesterday.” “Well he hung himself last night, not* withstanding.” A City Miss newly installed as the wife of a farmer was one day called upon by a neighbor of the same profession, who in the absence of her husbad, asked her for for the loau of his plough a short time. “I am sure you would he accommodated,” was the reply, “if Mr. Stone was only at home— I do not know, though, where he keeps his plough, but,” she added, evidently zealous to serve, “there is the cart in the yard— couldn’t you plough with that, until Mr. Stone gets back ? This is the same lady who, on going into the cattle-yard, asked, “which one of the cows is it that gives the butter milk ?” During the examination of a witness as the locality of the stairs in the house, the counsel asked: “Which way did the stairs run! The witness, who was a noted wag, re plied that, “Oneway they ran ap, hut the Other way they ran down!” biaSak i* ■ ■■ - ‘Dobson, you thought the defendant was slightly inebriated-—what made you think so sir?’ ‘Because he persisted in wearing the knot of his neck tie under his ear and would have it that the brick house at the corner was trying to jump on his -hat.’ The court allowed that Simpson had par taken of stimulants. The slang phrase r -I won’t do any think else,’ is now politely rendered, ‘Under the most incorapiyehensible conditions of sublu nary disarrangement, I will not be compell ed to have recourse to any dissimilar course of procedure.’ A young urchin being severely repriman ded by his mother for saying “hell,” remem bered the chastisement, and on the follow ing Sabbath when the minister in preaching used the word, leaped up and exclaimed, “By jingo! if you had my mother to deal with, you wouldn’t swear that way without gitting licked, I know.” '• ••/•:• _ A man out West, who advertises ft store to let in the delightful village of ®Plea?- ant Ridge,” adds to his announcement: “The late occupant having been suddenly taken off by the yellow fever, a " community of many miles a left to ssouHt