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* The Landlord of the Blue Hen.
Once—a long time ago—so good stories begin,
There stood by the roadside an old-fashioned inn;
An inn, which its land oi and h id named “ l'be Blue Hen.
While he, by his neighbors, was oalled “ Unole Ben.”
At least, they quite often adit eased him that way
When ready to drink but not ready to pay ;
Though when he insisted 0.1 haring the cash.
They went off muttering “rummy,” and “old brandy
smash.”
He sold barrels of liqnor, but still the old “ Hen”
Seemed nerer to 8 >un«h, and neither did “ Ben;”
For he drank up his profits, as every one knew,
Even those who were drinking their profits up too.
So, with all they could drink, and with all they could
pay.
The landlord grew poorer and poorer each day;
Men said, as he took down the gin from the shelf,
“ The steadiest customer there was himself.”
There was hardly a man living in the same street
But bad too mucn to drink and 100 little to eat;
The women about the old “ Hen ” got the bins* f
The girls had no bonnets, the boys had no shoes.
When a poor follow died, he was borne on his bier
By his comrades, whose hands shook with brandy and
fear;
For, of oourse, they were terribly frightened, and vet,
They went back to “The Blue Hen " to dnifk aud for
ge. I
There was one Jovial farmer who couldn't get by
The door of ‘ Tne Blue ueu ” with' Ut feeling dry;
Oue day he discovered his purse growing lignt,
“There must bj a leak somewhere,” he said. He was
right!
Then there was the blacksmith (the best ever known,
Folks said, if he’d only let liquor alone)
. Jiei his forgo cool so often, at last he forgot
To heat up his iron and strike when ’twas hot.
Once a miller, going home from “ The Blue Hen," ’twas
said,
While his wife sat and wept by his sick baby’s bed,
Had made a false step, and slept all night alone
In the bed of the river, iuetead of his own.
Even poor “ Ben ” himself could not drink of the cup
01 lire forever without burning up;
lie grew sick, foil to raving, declared that be knew
No doctors could help him; aud they said so, too.
He told those about him, the ghosts of the men
Who used in their lifetimes to h mnt “ The Blue Hen,"
Had come back, each one with his cb Idr’en aud wife.
And trying to frighten him out of his life.
Now he thought he was burning, the very next breath
He shivered and cried, he was freezing to death ;
That the peddler lay by him, who, long years ago,
Wus put out of “ 'Jhe Blue lieu,” aud died in the snow.
He said that the blacksmith, who turned to a sot,
Laid bun out on <iu anvil and beat him, red-hot;
That the builder, who swailjwed his brandy fourth
proof,
Was pitching him downward, head first, from the roof.
At last lie grew frantic; he clutched at the sheet,
And c ied that tie miller bad bold of his feet;
Then leaped from his bed wilh a terrible scream,
That the dead m,iu was draggiug him under the stream.
Then he ran, nod so swift that no mortal could save;
He went over the bank and went under the wave;
Aud his poor lifeless body next morning wus found
Ln the very same spot where the miller was drowned.
“’Twasn’t liquor that killed him,” some said, “that
was plain,
Ho was crazy, and sober folks might be insanel”
“ ’ l’was delirium tremens," the coroner said,
But whatever it was, he was ce. tainly dead I
—Pkasb* Oiry.
**NoTr Squirmy Old Natnr«*»
A stingy Christian was listening to a chari
ty sermon, lie was nearly deaf, and was
accustomed to sit facing the congregation,
right under the pulpit, with his ear-trumpet
directly upward towards the preacher. The
sermon moved him considerably. At one
tunc he said to himself—“l’ll give tendollars;”
again he said, “ I’ll give fifteen.” At the close
of the appeal, he was very much moved, and
thought he would give fifty dollars. Now,
the boxes wcie passed. As they moved along
his ch irity began to ooze out. He came down
Iron; fifty to twenty, to ten, to five, to zero.
He concluded that he would not give any thing.
“ Yet,” he sai I, this won’t do—l am in a bad
fix. My hopes of heaven may be in this ques
tion. Tins covetousness will be my ruin.”
The boxes were getting nearer and nearer.
The crisis was upon him. What should he
do? 'I he box was now under his chin—all
the congregation were looking. He had been
holding his pocket book in his hand during
the soliloquy, which was half audible though
in his deafness he did not know that he was
heard. In the agony of the final moment, he
took his pocket-book and laid it in the box,
saving tn himself as he did it: ‘Now squirm,
old natur’!”
Tins was a victory beyond any that Alex*
ander ever won—a victory over himself. Here
is a key to the problem of covetousness. Old
natur’ must go under. It will take great giv
ing to put stinginess down. A lew experi
ments of putting in the whole pocket-book
may, by and by, get the heart into the chari
ty-box, and the cure is reached. All honor
to the deaf old gentleman. He did a mag
nificent thing for himself, and gave an exam
ple worth imitating, besides pointing a para
graph for the students of human nature. — Rev.
F. O. Clark , in the Presbyterian.
Old Dog Grim*
Out- minister was to preach to the children
one Sunday afternoon, and all the little peo
ple were invited to come. Even the infant
school children were told that for once they
should understand a sermon.
Little Nattie was one of the smallest boys
—a bright black eyed fellow of five years old.
He was his mother’s darling, just as you dear
children are; but even while yet so small, he
had one very great fault. He was a lazy lit
tle boy. He was very fond of dogs, too; and
soon after the minister began to talk, Nattie
whispered, “0 mamma, it is a sermon about
dogs ; lam so glad !” And directly he began
to listen, with his eyes and ears and mouth
all wide open, and was 6ure to hear every
word.
The minister told about very cold countries
where they used dogs for horses. He said
men go to these countries in ships, and orten
they get fast in the ice, for the sea is full of
it; and sometimes the ships are broken in
pieces, and the poor men starve or freeze on
the great dreary fields of ice.
Once an Englishman, Sir John Franklin,
went with two ships to those frozen seas to
make some great discoveries; but never
carne back. After waiting many years, other
men and ships went aftei these, to see if they
could learn what had become of him. This
last party came home safely, and wrote a
book, telling wonderful stories of their life in
the Arctic seas.
Sometimes they left their ships fast in the
ice, and taking sledges with dogs for horses,
traveled many da) 8 over the ioe. One of
these dogs was named “Grim.'* He was a
great strong fellow, and could draw a larger
load, catch a fox quicker and eat more than
any of the rest, and was a very agreeable,
intelligent dog, as you shall see. He went
with them once or twice, to help draw the
sledge on their land journey, but they found
that with all his strenght he was the first dog
to lie down when they came to a ruujJi place;
ail the dogs did this, and the men had to un
h ad the sledge and carry it over the bad
places, and the dogs would pull aguin. But
old Grim was the first fellow down, and
lust to start again.
The next time they were about leaving the
ship, old Grim was nowhere to be seen.
When he found them getting ready for an
other sledge journey, he quitely took himself
oiF. They looked for him as long as they
could spare time, and then they had to start
without him. After a day or two, Grim
came back to the ship, looking very innocent
and very hungry, having had nothing to eat
in his walk.
The next time they started, they called him
to harness him, but found the poor dog was
very lame. He could walk only on three legs,
ana seemed iu great pain. Os course he wa9 of
no use, and so they left him again. By the
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SOUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST: ATLANTA, GA„ THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 1870.
time they were out of sight, old Grim’s leg
grew quite well, and be was allright again;
and always whenthey wanted him to work, he
acted in this way; he was lame, tired, or sick,
or ran away, and so was of no use to any
one.
Children, I have never been to ice countries,
but I thiuk 1 have seen many a dog Grim in
our own land. When a little boy or is girl ask
ed to go up or down stairs to fetch something,
and “he don’t want to;” or when he is told
to put up his tops and is “ too tired ;’’ and
when he can’t learn his lesson beoause his
“head aches” or his “eyes hurt;” when he
wants the maid to fetch him a glass of wa
ter, and yet he can run all about the house at
play—isn’t such a little boy or girl very like
old Grim ?
“ Mamma,” said little Nattie, growing quite
red all over his face, “ does he mean me V
After that, when his tnama wanted help, she
had only to «ay, “ Remember dog Grim,”
and it was enough.— Child's paper.
The Burning of the Richmond Theatre*
“ 1 was but a boy, aud lived in the city of
Richmond, Virginia, when the theatre was de
stroyed by fire, in December, 1811, and seven
ty five persons perished. I had a brother older
than myself, who resided there at the same
time. During the day which preceded the
fire he approached me, handing me a dollar,
and saying he supposed 1 wanted to attend
the theatre in the evening. On my leaving
home to reside in the city, my mother had
charged me not to go to the theatre; this 1
told him adding, * I can’t disobey my moth
er.’ Upon this he took baok the dollar he had
given me, expressing much contempt for my
oourse. I was w’illing, indeed, and even anx
ious to retain the dollar, but not as the means
of violating my mother’s command.
“Night caine, and my brother attended
the theatre, accompanied by a young lady ot
the city, to whom he wvas shortly to be mar
ried. I retired to my bed at an early-hour,
and knew nothing of the fire until after sun
rise. Then 1 learned that the young lady had
perished in the flames, and that my hrother,
in his efforts to save her, had narrowly escap
ed death. This bereavement was to him a
source of overwhelming grief, and he kept
his room closely for nearly a month after
ward. He never subsequently said aught to
me in reference to the theatre, or as to my
course in refusing to attend.”
The above was re ated to me by Dr. F ,
now an esteemed m nistei of gospel in North
Carolina. Notice I, The theatre w f as new
to him, aud he might have made this a plea
tor going. 2. It would cost him nothing, the
price of admission being proffered him, as a
gilt. 3. The example of an older brother
was before him, and presented a strong in
dueementto go. 4. His mother was at some
distance from the place, and it was very like
ly that she would never have heard of het
son’s disobedience. But the noble boy firml
adhered to his resolution : “ t can’t disobey
my mother.” Tne voice of God seems t<<
have blended with the mother’s charge, thus
restraining the footsteps of her son, and, in
all probability, saving his soul as well as his
body from death.— Occident.
Pat«h, or no Patch*
“ I would not go to Sunday sohool with that
patch,” said a proud girl to her brother. “ I
would rather go w ith the patch than not go a*
all,” answered the boy.
Patch,®or no paten, what did his teacher
care, who had hunted him up in his iowl\
home? She thought the most of the Irtb
boy’s soul. What did the kind superintend
ent care, who caught ths boy’s blue eye look
ing straight at him as he spoke, and was
pleased to see it ? >Patch or no' patch, he sung
“1 want to be an ang« I” a- sweetly and hea t
ily as better dressed boys did. No scholar re
cited a better lesson or behaved more proper
ly in his class. Patch or no patch, Ood took
notice that he was there. Patch or no patch,
his Redeemer died to save him in tender ac
cents, and now said to him “Son, give me tin
heart.” Patch or no patch, the Holy Spirit
was hovering near to help him remember hi*
Creator in the days # of his youth, and choose
this day, the Lord for his portion. Patch
or no patch, heaven had room for him.
A patch, you see, is no matter at all. In
stead of being a disgrace, it is rather an honor,
because it shows a boy has a kind and careful
mother, anxious to do her best with the small
means God has lent her. Never be ashamed
of a patch.
“A Soft Answer tnrneth a war Wrath.**
Soft words are like the gentle shower 8
which fall in April, reviving and beautifying
all nature, while harsh words are like wintry
storms whose chilling blasts spread desolation
around. Pleasant words are as easy to utter
as harsh ones; how much better then to min
ister good than evil! The truth of the above
Proverb is found in every individual’s expe
rience. Who does not remember the moment
when passion like a strong current was ready
to burst forth Irom heart and lips, when the
influence of a kind word turned back the tide
of feeling and made us act more calmly and
considerately ? Every child feels the foroe of
a mother’s winning voice, recalling it from
“sin’s destructive way,” to walk in the path
of virtue. Even a refractory scholar is won
back to love and obedience by the gentle tones
of a faithful teacher, and very often much of
the unpleasantness of a school-room is occa
sioned by failing to remember that “a soft
answer turneth away wrath.” We all need
to keep before us the copviotion that the influ
ence we exert now is for eternity; and in every
act of our iives let us be mindful of Him to
whom we must render an account of every
unkind and evil word. Whose?
Fishing with a Beardless Hook*
Some months ago business led me to an
out-of-the-way plaoe, where, near by a fall of
water, there lived two boys, one eight and
the other ten. Th j y were bright eyed, in
quisitive little chaps, but generally without
either hat or shoes, and often with pants and
jackets sadly rent.
Busied as I was in the repairs of an old
mill, these boys were handy to send on er
rands, bring tools, look after my horses turn
ed out to bait in the road, and do numberless
little things to save the steps of those who
were older.
One day, on reaohing the mill, I saw the
oldest boy standing upon a rock, partly hid
den by the foliage of the surrounding trees,
fishing, and as often as he fc-lt a nibble he
would jerk his line as spitefully out of the
water as though he bore the little fish some
terrible grudge, and wanted to pay it by
twitching their heads off. I a-ked him why
he did so, and explained as well as I was
able the best modes of taking such fish as
made the little bro <k their home.
After hearing me patiently and respectful
ly, he said ; “ Mister, you fish with a hook
that has got a beard on it, and when you hook
one he stays. My hook ha n’t got any beard.
It’s an old broken one that Liger Green gave'
me. I ha n’t got any money to buy anew
t»ne. Mother wants the pennies you gave me.
I like to fish, like to catch ’em for mother,
aud I have to twitch ’em when they bite, or
the will wiggle off, and 1 shall lose ’em.”
1 liked the talk of that boy. He did not
grumble about his old hook, but did the best
he could with what he had to do with; and
day after day, as I saw him doing it, and tak
ing to his mother the reward of his toil, which
had cost so muo’i care, and thought, and skill,
i knew that he was laying, with that alder
.rod in his hands, the foundations of a grand
character. *
That is the way Horace Greely began. He
fished awhile with a beardless hook. His fa
ther was very poor, and had scarcely any
books, and what he had he was obliged t<»
read by the dim light of pine-knots which his
own forethought had gathered ; hut he is now
one of the ablest writers, as well one of the
most influential men in America.
And so with John Jacob Astor. He had
no money, or comparatively none, when he
came to this country, but he wanted to trade,
and so he carried his little bundle of goods
around under his arm or his hands. He fish
ed with a beardless hook. Afterwards he
bought furs, and carried them on his back
hundreds of miles to market, and when he
died he had grown from absolute poverty to
be the richest man in the country.
There is scarcely a great man Or a good
man on this side of the Atlantio that did not
have tough time in his boyhood; did not fish
awhile with a beardless hook : and of all the
boys now in the*oountry. those only will ar
rive at eminence who do the best they can
with what they have to do witi; never com
plain, but push cheerfully and resolutely on
the path that leac[s upwards to a noble, and
good, and grand manhoood.
Which way do You Leant
“If the tree falleth toward the South or to
ward the North, in the place where the tree
falleth, it shall be.” (Ecoles. xi: 3.) The
tree will not only lie as it falls, butit will also
fall as it leans; that is, we shall go after
what we inclined to —is not that so?—which
makes it all in all to us what the bent of our
mind is.
Twenty years ago, there were two boys in
my Sabbath school class, bright, lively little
fellows, who interested me very
one of them made me sometimes feei anxious.
I often found him out at night in company
with wild youths. ■ When 1 asked him how it
happened, he used to say he was only out
on an errand ; the boys spoke to him, and he
could not help their speaking, he was sure.
Perhaps that was so, still it made me uneasy.
1 once said to his mother. ‘ Is not Willy out
at nights too much?” “ Willie out at nights !
Oh no; Willie does not go out at nights.”
Was l mistaken then? Arthur 1 never met
in such company. Ilis evenings, I am sure,
were spent at home. I always found him
studying his lessons, or reading with his sis
ter, or amusing himself at home.
That was twenty years ago. Both boys
had begun to show whicn way they were lean
ing, and how their tastes inclined them.
Twenty years will show it plainer. The oth
er day, l heard of Willie. Somebody met
him. “ What is he 1 I asked. “A good
for-nothing, certainly, if not worse,” was the
answer; “a shabby, idle, drinking fellow,
whom nobody wants to employ.” “0,1 am
sorry to hear it—sorry, but not surprised. I
wonder where Arthur—is.” “Arthur! Why,
didn’t you know he had just been taken into
partnership with lhat old firm he served his
time with ? They could not spare him, so
they had to take him in.” “Good !” I said,
“good ! It is jut what Ishoul I have expect
ed. He leaned right as a boy.”
Ones upon a Time*
Once upon a lime th« re was a prince who
was very homely ; so he went to a fairv, and
said, “ Fairy, I wish you would make me
hands«me.”
“Shall I make you handsome for a time, or
handsome as long as you live, not only in this
world, but in the next?” asked the fairy. “ On!
I would like to be handsome as long as I five,
for ever and ever,” said the prince.
“Then 1 will tell you what to do,” said the
fairy, “Here is a glass for you to look
through at the people. It will show you all
who deserve help. Take it,and taken purse
of money, and go through the streets and give
to every who deserves help; and do this
every day,’' ill you find you love to do it.
One year from now meet n.e on this spot.”
The homely prince said he would be glad
to be handsome in so easy a way. So he
went to work, and did as the fairy told him
to do, till he grew fond of his daily work and
loved to do it.
At the end of the year, he mot the fairy as
she had told him to do; and she said, “Well,
prince, do you look handsome now ?”
“No,” said he; “but I fed .handsome, and
that is better.”
Then the fairy dipped water out of aspring
with a crystal cup, and said, “ Look in this
water; what do you see?”
“ I see myself," said ihe prince; “ but how
handsome!’’
“ Handsome is, that handsome does,” said
the fairy ; “yours is now the beauty that will
last.”
“1 am content,” said the prince. “ Fairy,
thank you.”
So the prince was made happy and hand
some all at once. Tnere were some people
who called him homely; but those with a
good eyesight, who could see his soul, said he
was the most beautiful prince they had ever
seen.
What do you Read?
There is nothing that makes so much differ
ence in the out come of boys and girls as the
books they read. Os all the boys and girls
we have known, we never knew one to sue
ceed in life who spent his time, when young,
in reading exciting stories. _We do not say
you may not read stories. But we do say
that if you want to be of any use in the world,
you ought not to let your reading be story
reading. Aud, what is more, you ought to
read nothing but good stories.
But how can we tell whether it is good or
not ? There are very many books that have a
weak moral, or a religious side, that are yet
good for nothing. They are too exciting, and
breathe a bad air. How shall we know the
good ones?
A book that shall make us feel brave and
strong for our work is good. If any writer
makes us feel, not that we would like to do
better, but that we will do better, we may
trust such an author. But if a book gives us
a feeling that our life is dull, that we would
like to be some where else than where God
has put us, that book does us harm.
Children a Blessing.
I remember a great man o nning into my
house at Waltham, and seeing my children
standing in the order of their age and stature,
said, “These are they that make rich men
poor.” But he straightway received this an
swer: “Nay my lord, these are they that
make poor men rich ; for there is not one of
these whom wo would part with for your
wealth.” It is easy to observe, for the most
part, that none are so gripple and hard-fisted
as the childless; whereas, th >s« who, for the
maintenance of large families, are used to fre
itient disbursements, find such experience of
livine Providence in the fa'hful management
of their affairs as that they lay out with more
cheerfulness what they receive. And where
in their care must be abated when God takes
it from them to Himself, their faith gives
them ease in casting their burden upon Him
who hath more right to it, since our children
are more his that our own. He that feedeth
the young ravens, can He fail the best of His
creatures when they cry for Him? —Bishop
Hall.
No Kissing. —Sir John Lubbuck, in hisob
servations of the Indians of South America,
gives a curious trait in some of the tribes.
He says that the kiss which we think so n itu
ral, is unknow, to some of the tribes. There
are some who stand positively in tear of it.*
When any one attempts to embrace them
they regard it as an evidence of a desire to
eat them—as a mode of tasting them.
Pr’De or Dress. —Your “Alaska sable”
furs, gentle lady, were once worn by that ple
beian personage, the skunk.— Advance.
©lie Jdimlaj)
Errors in Teaching.
Rev. John Hall, D.D., made a most valu
able address before the New York Teach
ers’ Association, recently. Dr. Crosby’s
large church was densely crowded <>n the oc
casion. His topic was “Common Errors in
Teaobing.” We subj >La a brief synopsis.—
Ist. It is common to suppose that almost any
body will answer for a Sunday teacher.
Social position is not enough, nor is it suffi
cient that it may be a means of grace to the
teacher. Aptness to teach arid training in
ministers’ Bible classes and teachers’ meet
ings are needful requisites. 2d. Fliat one
may teach without thorough preparation.
This results in the barrel-organ style. The
same tunes are ground out over and over
again. I’upils do not attend because there is
nothing to attend to. Even It horse knows
his rider, and children are quick to detect a
poor teacher. We tire of what we do badly ;
and, like the spies cf the olden time, bring
back a bad report of the land. Two kinds ot
preparation are necessary. (Ist) Intellectual.
Have specific ideas, distinct, definite thoughts.
We cannot present clearly what is dim and
cloudy in our minds. (21.) Moral Feel the
power of truth yourself. You may have good
ink and paper b it a bad pen spoils the whole.
Seek, above all, that preparation that comes
of meditation, and prayer, and communion
with God. Press the Stanford high. It
necessary, have fewer and bettAi'teachers and
larger classes. 3i. It is convnion to teach
over the heads of pupils. 1. li.f use of unintel
ligible or technical terms. S .notification and
adoption mean nothing to a child. “ Your
procedure is antagonistic to the fundamental
principles of eternal justice.” Elegant, no
.doubt, and enriched by contributions Irom the
Latin and Gretk ; but all II brew to a child.
John Bright and Charles 11. Spurgeon owe
much of their remarkable power to their
choice of plain Saxon words ot one syllable.
21. In jumping to conclusion.*, we may be
able to stride up three stairs at a time ; but
the child toils up a step at a time. Nettle
ton was a very successful teacher. He forti
fied his positions patiently, one by one. 4th.
We often underrate our pupils. The Bible
was meant for children. As currency repre
sents coin, so let our teaching represent the
solid gold of God’s Word. sh. Addressing
the intellect only. We should reach the feel
ings, sympathies, conscience, and taste even.
Win the confidence. Avoid the preaching
style. Use questions freely ; .kit not leading
questions, or such as admit of but only one
answer. No one can question properly with
out knowing the lesson thoroughly. The true
power of the teacher consists largely in know
ing the lesson. Lastly ,we some times come
to think that pains and preparation will, of
course,secure sucC-ss. It is all <d grace. Carry
your woi'k and your class one by one to the
Throne ot Grace. Having given toyour pre
paration the earners of your time, on Satur
day night spread it out before the Lord. It
is His work, not yours. Then go to your
class as to serious, important work, and re
member that God’s blessing alone secures
success.
The Sunday School Lesson.
A writer in the National Baptist proposes
that the Sunday school lesson shall be m..de,
by the pastor, -< the topic of remark at the
prayer meeting of the previous week. This
lias the excellence,
First, Ut identifying in no meagre sense
the pastor with the school. Surely enough
every pastor, if possible, should be identified
with the school in a more way, by
being present at each session, and at least
occasionally teaching a cla-s •whose teacher
may be absent. But such a rm-gtwuj will cer
tainly show that he has some desire to be in
working connection with it.
Second , It will tend to inte est the church
members in the seho >l. For there are some
who attend prayer meeting whose presence is
rarely seen m the school. Ai exposition of
the lesson by the pastor v, !1 quietly and
gradually draw their minds to the school,
causing them to feel that wh it has so much
interest for them in the praye meeting would
probably have also in the school.
Third, This method is helpful to teachers.
Not many of these have all the helps needed
to prepare themselves thoroughly for teach
ing the lesson. The explanation by the pas
tor will, it is presumed, materially aid -teach
ers in gaining correct views. A few words
from him will often do more to remove a
difficulty, than an hour’s discussion iu teach
ers’ meeting.
Fourth, It furnishes to tand, weekly, a
Scripture lesson for the prayer meeting. The
prayer meeting ought always, as l conceive,
to be opened with the reading of some por
tion of God’s word. And by adopting this
plan the pastor knows what, he is to read, and
goes prepared by study upon it. And thus
it will be easy for him a times to say, if
necessary, sharp and pointed things without
the complaint of being personal.
Fifth, It gives unity to the instruction of
the week. Much is lost without this. It
would be well, occasionally at least, to preach
upon some passago in the lesson the same day
it is taught in the school. Tne themes sug
gested by the Life of<Christ at e various and
always in place. The pastor needs to study
how he can concentrate his elforts. Oue blow
of the will avail more than many
strokes of the hammer.”
Where to Keep Yoar Scholars.
A groat deal in this whole matter of teach
ing and training, depends upon where the
teacher keeps his scholars. It he places them
in his heart, and carries them every day to
the Mercy Seat, if. he lets'! he light ot eternity
fall upon their upturnedf faces iu the class, if
he recalls his own childhood, its thoughts and
ways, and then teaches from suoh a stand
point, we shall not have to talk much about
Normal Classes and Jinfitutes for that man.
The great thing in Sunday school teaching is
the spiritual preparation,'the character of the
mail, it is not so much the half hour of
prayer before he goes tohis class, as it is the
steady habit of piety that shines out of his
face and reveals itsedf in his everyday life.
Tne teacher, as well as the preacher, must
live what he teaches. The fervent Christian
has the great preparation. I have been fear
ing lest the attention to externals, to the
knowledge of im-ttiuds, to intellectual pre
paration, would and rec; l ie attention from the
interior forces, without -which we can do noth,
ing. Having been en. aged in the lustrtuie
work since 1857, I -have by pen and voice
tried to emphasizi this one point, th it spirit
ual preparation is the. .“ham thing. The idea
that by frequent poshing of the brass
that ornaments .j&e Lip unotive you can get
up heat enough to mai.e it go, is simply ab
surd. Tne idea that intellectual endowments
aud culture can make a mall spiritually a
teacher of divine tru*i, is equally absurd.
There must be fuel aid fire within, and the
great work of tho-e that would train teachers
should be to present the truth and induce
every teacher to appr< .prate that truth to his
personal character. Jut when a man has a
lantern, and the lamp is filled with oil, and
the wick is well trimmed, an 1 the match
touched to the wick, and the lamp brightly
burning, and the lamp iu the lantern —than it
is a good thing to ha-e the glass well pol
ished. You may have the truth within, and
fervor within, and tbuii a little knowledge of
method, and a looking at truth in a half
dozen different wavs, ro see how best to pre
sent it that you may quicken the activity of
the pupil, is of service.— J. H. Vincent.
The Prayer in the Glen.
We commend lo our Sabbath school teach
ers, and to those who neglect to assemble
themselves together, the following incident:
When William Milne was fitting himself for
the mission work in China, he was most de
voted to the Scottish Sabbath schools. He
felt that the work for s >u!s was one, nil over
the world. He realized the importance of
this means of instruction more than many of
us do. Going one night with a friend to visit
an evening Sabbath class, his road lay through
a rocky glen, which brought to his mind the
spot where he had first given his heart to the
Saviour. He paused and said : “1 am afraid
to enter on the solemn work of the evening
without special prtyer.” The two young
men knelt, down in that rocky sanctuary, and
for some time plead with God for Mis bless
ing, as only those teachers do who feel the
preciousness ol souls. There was something
in their very faces that told their scholars
they had been with Jesus. There wa'sa power
in their words that awed even the most
thoughtless. Aho can doubt that when the
great books are opened, some saved soul will
trace its rescue to that prayer in the glen,
which his faithful teacher poured out for him?
The Snperiutendent.
Some think that invention is an essential
requisite to this officer, but we are not dis
posed to regard this as an important qualifi
cation. Tnere is too much invention in re
spect to Sunday schools. Some schools are
little more than constant religious experi
ments. First this thing, and then that thing,
and soon another thing is tried ; there is a
frequent changing of lesson books and hymn
books; a readjustment of classes; a getting
up of public exercises, and concerts, and fes
livals ;*a variety of speakers, good, bad aud
indifferent, in the school every Sunday ; a
great noise and parade, and excitement ail the
time; and very little Bible teaching, or care
for children’s souls, or anxiety for their salva
tion from sin and union to the people of God.
And the inventive superintendent is respon
sible for thisstateof things. He is a stirring
man, and means to make his Sunday school
the most popular and attractive in the place
or the neighborhood, forgetting that the aim
of the Sunday school is to impart religious
instruction, and that “ he that winneth souls
is wise.”—iV. Y. Observer.
Sabbath Schools and Missions. —At the
late meeting of the American Board of For
eign Missions, while the question of extend
ing their work to Japan was under considera
tion, this sentence was uttered by the Com
mittee: “ To discuss, indeed, the question oi
ability would be idle aud puerile. Our Sab
bath schools, were they properly organized as
auxiliaries, without any otlier work to do,
could support all our missions.”
Expenses—The expenses of the Method
ist Sunday schools in tms country, are about
half a million of dollars annually, and are
met by voluntary contributions.
(jlommemal and financial
COBEBCTED WEEKLY.
Groceries and Provisions —Wholesale.
BACON—Canvassed Hams ft lb 23 @ 26
Plain llama V tb 21 @22
Clear Miles. ft U> 17*# 17^
Clear ltlb bides tt> 17 @ 17>s
Shoulders ft » 18,K@ 1«a
BULK MEAT'S—Clearaidcs ft lb 10 HA Hi*
Clear Rib ft lb @ lb
bbiiulders ft tb 12 @
Hams ft lb la @
BLACK PEPPER ft B> (a* BT>s
blue s tune ft a it @ is
BEANS ft bushel 1 SO @2 00
BROOVIS ft doz 8 50 @5 00
BUCKETS ft do* 8 00 @8 50
DANDY—.Assorted ft fl> 25 @ 2T
stick ft IS 21 @ 22
CANDLES—Paraffine. ft to 88 @ 4u
Star ft 0> 17 @ 18
Tallow ft ib 12
CHEESE ft B> 16 @ i»E
CIUA..S ft m 18 00 @6OOO
Havana ft in 8o 00 @l5O 00
OOFTEE—Java ft It) 40 @ 46
1C lo ■ ft ft 23 @ 28
COPPERAS ft lb 4 @ 5
COTTON C iP.DS ft do* 8 00 @8 50
COTTON THREAD ft bunch @2 00
FEATHERS ft lb 75 @ SO
FLOOR —family ft bbl 7 5o @8 00
Fancy ft bbl 8 25 @ 850
Exct a ft bbl 6 50 @ 7 50
Sunerfln* V bid 6 75 @6 26
GRAIN—Cm n ft bush 12 @1 23
Oais & bush b3 @ 85
Wheat ft bush 1 40 @ 1 75
HERRINGS ft box V 0 @
INDIGO,so ft tb 1 6u & 175
LARD—In Bbls ft tb 20 @
*la Kegs and Cans ft tb IV @ 21
LEAD ft lb V @ 11
LEATHER—SoIe ft U> 80 @ 40
m Northern tanned ft 18 82 @ 40
Upper ft B) 60 @ 70
Call Skins ft do* 40 00 @7O 00
French ft do* 70 00 @76 00
LIMB ft bushel 60 @ 60
il YDRAULIC CEMENT ft bbl 600 @
MACKEREL ft bbl 17 00 @26 00
Do ft kit 8 00 @8 50
MADDER ft lb 15 @ 17
MOLASSES ft gallon 55 @ 60
Sorghum ft gallon 55 @ 60
New Orleans, ft gallon 85 @ 95
NAILS ft It. @6 00
OlL—Kerosene ft gallon @ 60
Linseed, raw ft gallon 1 45 @ 150
Machine ft gallon 1 00 @ 1 73
Tauuer’s ft gallon & 75
ONIONS ft bbl 4 00 @ 600
RICE ft tb B%@ 9#
ROPE—Hemp ft B> 8 @ 10
Cotton ft tb 85 @ 40
RAISINS ft box 6 00 @
SALT—Virginia ft sack 2 25
Liverpool ft sack @ 2 60
SHOT ft sack 8 50 @ 8 75
SOAP—Northern ft lb 7X@ 12#
SODA ft 15 9 @ 0
SNUFF ft » 65 @ 100
STARCH ft ffi 10 @ 11X
SUGAR—Brown ft ffi 14 @ 17
Coffee ft lb 16 @ 18
Crushed ft ft 19 @ 20
SARDINES—Jg box ft do* 275 @8 00
X box ft dot 0 00 @
TEAS —Gunpowder ft tb 0 00 @0 00
Green ft ffi 1 75 @ 400
Black ft ffi 1 50 @ 2 00
TOBACCO—Common ft Ib 60 @ 65
Medium ft lb 70 @ 80
Prime ft tb 1 00 <a 125
rWlNE—Wrapping ft Ib 80 @ 60
VINEGAR—Cider ft gallon 80 @ 60
Country Produce.
APPLES—Green ft bbL $4 00 @ 600
Dried ft » 7 @ 8
BUTTER ft t> ' 80 @ 40
BEESWAX ft B> 85 @ 88
CORN—Shelled, old ft bushel 1 80 @ 185
Ear, new ft bushel x 1 80 @
vHICKENS ft do* 8 00 @8 50
EGGS ft dox 80 @ 40
FODDER ft ewt 2 00 @
HlDES—Green ft » @lO
Dry ft tb 16 @ 18
HAT ft cwt . 1 90 @.2 00
MEAL ft bushel 1 40 @ 140
OATS ft busuel @
PEACHES—PeaIed ft lb 12 @ 18
Unpealed ft lb 6 (74 7
PEAS ft bushel @
Table ft bushel @ 1 75
PEANUTS ft bushel * 00 @2 25
POTA lOES—Sweet ft bushel 100 @llO
V&ms ft bushel 1 50 @ 1 75
Western Eating, Irish ft bbl. 8 25 @ 850
N. Planting ft bhL 6 00 @ 6 50
ta:.low ft m n @ 12*
WHEAT—Whtt* ft bushel 180 <a t 85
Red ft bushel 1 40 @ 160
Cotton Goods.
4-4 Sheeting, ft yd 14Jg,i'5 Heavy Osnabnrgs, 2h@22U
7- ahirting, ft yd 12>4„18 Light “ ft yu 17
8- “ ft yd I'X Mriiies, ft id 16
7-8 Drill* ft yd 15* Checks, ft yd 18
Financial.
EXCHANGE ON NEW YOKE— Buying «t par; sell
in* at prem.
GOLD.—Buying at 11,selling at 18.
31L'/KR ltuyinfr at 10, selling at 15.
CLI) BULLION. -Buying al $1 23<gl 80$ fenny weight
GOLD DU3T.—Buying at sl.lo@l 16 $ pennyweight.
The following are the rates paid by our brokers during the
week for Georgia and Alabama bank bills;
urEOBGIA.
Buying
Georgia B. R. A B. 00., 08
Marine Bank of Georgia 93
Bank o‘ Em tun 85
Jai.l o. umpire State 9
A t.usta Ins. A B. Cos. 0
City Bank of Augusta 10
Manu.acturera B'k of M.acon 0
North- A’eateru Bank 0
Merchant* and Planters 0
Planters Bank. 6
Bunk of Columbus o
Central R. B. Bank 98
Bank of Middle Georgia 75
Bank o' Atnent lj
Bank «»i Aagusta
Onion Bank of Augusta 0
Augusta Savings Bank 5
Timber Cutters Bank 0
Bank of Savannah 10
Bank of the State 10
Bank of Commerce 0
Mechanics Bank 0
ALABAMA.
Bankot Mobile 96
E tstern Bank of Alabama 54
Bank of Selma 00
Commercial Bank 5
Bank of Montgomery 6ft
iifilt
Central Bank i
Northern Bank go
Southern Bank v 5
SOUTH CAROLINA.
Union Bank 95
Bank of Chester ]&
Hank of Cue State, old 80
Bank ut Charleston 76
Exchange Bank 6
Merchants (Cheraw) 4
Bank of Georgetown 10
Planters Bunk 6
Planters and Mechanics 85
Peoples Bank 85
Bank of Newberry 75
Bank of Hamburg 6
South-Western R. R. Bank 71
Partners and Exchange 0
Bank of Camden 80
Bank of South Carolina 12
State Bank 2
Commercial Bank 1
NORTH CAROLINA.
Bank of Cape Fear 98
Bank of Wilmington 7
Bank of the State 40
All other N. Carol! 1 1 Banks
85 to 97 per cent, dieoouni
BUSINESS CARDS.
ORDERS! SEND ORDERS!!
BY STEAM.
Foot Power Presses!
EVERY DESCRIPTION OF
LETTER-PBESS PRINTING
EXECUTED AT THE
FRANKLIN
STEAM PRINTING HOUSE JOB ROOMS,
BROAD STREET.
WORK EXECUTED PROMPLY AND NEATLY.
We work to please, and please to work.
MERCANTILE, SCHOOL AND
INSURANCE WORK,
RAILROAD WORK,
LEGAL BLANKS,
CATALOGUES,
POSTERS, of all Sizes,
BILL HEADS,
LETTER HEADS,
CHECKS,
CARDS,
ENVELOPS; and
LABELS OF ALL KINDS.
Orders from the Country Promptly At
tended To.
Franklin Steam Printing House, Book-Bindery,
and Olfice Index and Baptist,
J. J. TOON, Proprietor.
Atlanta. Ga.
QEORGIA PRACTICAL BUSLNESi COLLEGE,
MAOON, GEORGIA.
B. B. EHSTOiY, Principal Penmanship Department,
late of D ilbeur and J. W. Blackman's Colleges, New
Orleans, La.
GEO. R. LEVI3ON, Principal Bank Keeping and
Telegraph Departments, late of Eastman College, New
JOHN T. McGINTY, A M., Graduate of Mercer Uni
vers.ty, Principal English and Mathematical Depart
ments. With Competent Assistants.
Tsnxg o? Tuition— Payable in Advance —Time Un
limited.
Business Penmanship, #ls; Ornamental, S2O; Busi
ness and Ornamental cnmbiued, s3o; Pen Drawing.
S2O; B-otc-Keeping, adapted to all depirtineuts ol
trade, $25; Commercial Calculations, $25; liighei
Mathematics, $5(1; Civil Engineering, $100; Tele
graphy, S3O. English Language, embracing Orummnr,
Composition and Rhetoric*, per annu n, SSO.
College Hours, from 9 a.m. to 1 p.a.; 3to 5 and 7to
9 p.m. No vacations.
RrEHBNCBS,—Geo S Obear, Mayor; Hon E A Nisbet,
Dr J R Boon, Jos Clisby, Esq, Ed Tel and Me senger j
Uou Washington Poe, C A Nutting, Pres. City Banking
Cos.; Hon Jas Jackson, Rev E VV Warren, Pastor Firm
Baptist church ; RevJ W Burke, Rev David Wills, D.D.,
Eider S Boykin.
For further particulars, address “ Secretary,” Box 15,
Macon, Oa. 2481—2493 —l3t
QEO. W. GUNN,
Attorney at Law and Solicitor in Chancery
TUSKEGEE , ALABAMA,
Will practice in the Courts of Macon, Tallapoosa
Chambers, Lee and Russell. The Supreme Court o
the Slate, and the Uistriet Court of the Ulined Si«ie>
at Montgomery ‘2475—09.
J° S EPH A. AN SLE’!i
ATTORNEY AT LAW ,
Americas, Georgia
Will attend promptly to professional bos’ness, .i
the Courts of South-Western Georgia, and it. tin
United Slates Courts at Savannuh. 2461 —2485-2-'
J. CLARKE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Atlanta, Georgia.
Will practice in the Courts of the Atlanta Circuit
and in the United States District Court lor the North
ern District of Georgia.
OfFicK over Ga. National Bank, Ala. Street.
2454 -2504.
rpO COTTON PLANTERS.
1,000 bushels the gentifne
HUNT COTTON SEED,
Best Short Staple and most Prolific in the country.
For sale by J. J. PEARCE, BUTLER Sc CO.,
2473-63-11 Cotton Factors, Augusta, Ga.
DRUGS, MEDICINES, ETC.
DR.
I Slim j LIVER REGULATOR
I^^JOR MEDICINE, for Dyspepsia,
Headache, Jaundice. Cosliveness, Camp Dysentery,
Sick Headache, Chronic Diarrhoea, A fleet'on sol the
Bladder and Kidneys, Fever, Nervousness, Chills
Diseases ot the skin, Impurity of the Blood, Melan
choly or depression of Spirits.
Most of the ailments here enumerated have their
origin in a diseased liver, which is the most prevalent
affection in this country, and as in many cases the
patient is not within the reach of a physician, it re
quires that some remedy should be provided that
would not in the least impair the constitution, and yel
be active and safe. That -itch is the character ol the
SIMMONS REGULATOR there can lie no doubt,
which the testimony of huudreds will establish.
SYMPTOMS OF A DISEASED
I ■■■■■■■■■■■■• Pain in the side. Sometimes the
ITIMIII Spain is felt under the shoulder blade;
IIV rtl 1 19 sometimes mistaken lor rheuma-
IllVliU liism in the arm. Tne stomach is at-
with loss of appetite and sick
ness, bowels in general are costive, sometimes alter
nating with lax; the head is troubled with pain, ac
coinpamed with a duil, heavy sensation. There is
generally a considerable loss of memory, accompa
nied with a painful sensation of having left undone
something which ougnt to have beet, done. A stigh',
dry cough is sometimes an attendant. The patient
complains of weariness and deiiilny ; he is easily
startled, bis feet are cold or burning, and he com
plains of a prickly sensation of the skin ; his spirits
are low ; and although satisfied that exercise would
be beneficial to him, yel he can scarcely summon up
fortitude enough to try it. In fact, he distrust ever)
remedy. Several ol the above symptoms attend the
disease, but eases have occurred when few ol them
existed, yel examination of the body after death has
shown the Liver to have been extensively deranged.
It should he ustd by all persons, old and young,
whenever any ol the foregoing symptoms appear. It
is a purely vegetable compound, is 1101 injurious to the
most delicate constitutions, and will keep the liver in
healthy action if used properly.
Persons living in unhealthy localities may avoid all
billious attacks by taking a dose occasionally to keep
the liver in healthy action.
For children complaining of colie
(1 Ii (headache, or sick stomach, h lea-
KPfTII anr Wul more will give relief
I lOiLU 11"•■Children, as> we || a „ adults, eat some
lines too much supper, or eat some-
not digest well, producing sour
stomach, heart-burn, or restlessness; u good dose
will give relief. This applies to persons of all ages.
Many persous, from ealing too much, are restless,
at night, or in day time are fidgety, wool-gathering,
can’t understand what they read, can’t keep their
thoughts on any one subject so as to reason well, or
become fretful. One or two tabiespoousful will give
relief.
JitK ndit*.— Take enough Regulator after ealing
each meal to produce one full action from the bowels
every day.
Pregnant ladiea will find sure relief from their head
ache, costiveness, swimming in the head, colic, sour
stomach, restlessness, etc,, etc.
Prepared only by
Druggists, Macon, Gt.
Price $1: by mail fl.afi.
For sale by J. F. Henry, New York ; J. D. Park,
Cincinnati; J. Fleming, New Orleans.
2464-26X4-501.
TRAVELER’S GUIDE.
Georgia Railroad.
E. W. Colb, Superintendent.
Day Train. Night Train.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Atlanta 5.0 U a.m. p.m. 6.40 p.m. 7.40 a.m
Augusta.. 7.00 a.m. 8.46 p.in. 8.45 p.m. 6.20 a.m
Day Passenger Trains will not run on Sundays. Pas
sengers for Muledgeville, Washington, and Athens, Gc
must take day passeuger trams.
In order to make close connection with second
Tram on the South Carolina Railroad, and better con
nections with Trains on the Branch Roads, the Train
on the Georgia Railroad will run as lollows;
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN.
(Sundays excepted.)
Leave Augusta at a.m
Leave Atlanta at ..6.00 a.m
Arrive at Augusla P . M
Arrive at Atlanta p.m
NIGHT PASSENGER AND MAIL TRAIN.
Leave Augusla at (~45 P . M
Leave Atlanta a1... 3.40 r . M
Arnve at Augusta 3.00 a.m
Arrive at Atlanta 7.40 a.m
BERZELIA PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leave Augusta at 4.15 p.m
Leave Beixelia at 7.U0 a.m
Arrive at Augusta 6.45 a .m
Arrive at JBerxelia tj.uO p.m
Passengers lor Miiledgeville, Washington and Ath
ens, Gu., must lake Day Passenger Train front Au
gusla and Atlanta.
Passengers lor West Point, Montgomery, Selma
Mobile, and New Orleans, must leave Augusta on
Night Passenger Tram at 10 p.m., to make close con
uectioas.
Passeugers for Nashville, Corinth, Grand Junction
Memphis, Louisville and lit. Louis, can lake eitbe
Tram, and make close connections.
1 hrougli tickets, aud baggage checked through to
the above places.
Pullman s Palace Sleeping Cars on all Night Pas
senger Trams. No change of cars on Nighi Passen
3cr aud Mail T rains between Augusta aud Wes'
1 °i nt - E. W. COLE, Ueu’l Sup’t.
Atlanta and West-Point Railroad.
L. P. GRANT, Superintendent.
Day Train. Night Train.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Atlanta.... 7.58 a.m. 12.22p.m. 8 oop.rn. 11.05a.m.
vVest Point. 12.56 p.m. 5.25 p.m. S.uop.m. lo.Oup.m.
Western and Atlantic (State) Railroad.
FOSTER BLODGETT Superintendent.
Day Train. Night Train.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Atlanta 8.16a.m. 8.17p.in. 7.00 p.m. 4.14u.m.
Chattanooga.7.oo a.m. 4.20p.ui. 7.50 p.m. iBO a.m.
Dalton Accommodation Train.
Leuve. Arrive.
Atlanta 4.15 p.m. 1100 a.m.
Dalton 2.16 a.m. 12.44 a.m.
No day trains on Sunday. The 7.00 p.m. train from
Vtlantu arrives ut Dalton at 1.20 a.m., connecting with
(.ruins on the East Tennessee utid Georgia Railroad for
Knoxville, Lynchburg, Washington, Ac. Passengers
( or Koine will take the 7.00 p.m. train from Atlanta,
md the 7. lo p.m train from Chattanooga.
Western and Atlantic and Virginia and Tennessee Rail
ways to the North and East.
Going North—Leave
Ulanta 7.25 p.m.
Dalton 2.80 a.m.
finoxville 11.17 a.m.
Bristol 7.18 p.m.
Lynchburg 9.00 a.m.
Washington 7.0(1 pm.
Baltimore 8.55 p.m.
Philadelphia.... 1.22 a.m.
Arrive New York 5.20 a.m.
Time between Atluiita and New York 67 hours.
South-Western Railroad.
VtaaiL Powers, Engineer and Superintendent.
'Columbus Train — Daily. Leave. - Arrive.
'lacon 7.52 a.m. 6.05 p.m.
Columbus.... .... 12.25 p.m. 11.22 a.m.
■■uj'tiuUi Train — Daily. Leave. Arrive
Macon 8.00 a.m. 4.00 p.m.
Eu1au1a,...... 7.20 a.m. 6.80 p.m.
Connecting with Albany Train at Smith ville.
Leave. Arrive.
smith ville 1.46 p.m. 11.00 a.m.
Vlbuny 9.85 u.in. 3.11p.m.
Connecting with Fort Gaines Train at Outhbert.
Leave. Arrive.
Juthbert 8.67 p.m. 9.05 am.
?'ort Guinea 7.05 a.m. 5.40p.iu.
Connecting with Central Railroad and Mucon A
Western Railroad trains at Mucon, aid Montgomery A
(Vest Point Railroad trains ul Columbus.
Rome Railroad.
Leave. Arrive.
onl9 6.C0 p.m. 12.80 p.tu.
Kingston 11.00 p.m. 8.00 pm
Connects at Rome with Stages to Selma Road, and
Steamboats to Uudsden and Green sport, Ala., Tuesday
uid Saturday mornings. Also at Kingston with night
crains on Western and Atlantic Ruilroud, up aud down
Montgomery and West-Point Railroad.
Dan’l. H. Cham, Engineer and Sup’t.
Leuve. Arrive.
West Point 12.46 p.m. 12.00 m.
Montgomery 6.46 p.m. 6.uoa.m.
Opelika Branch.
Trains leave Opelika for Columbus at 10.80 a.m., and
2.20 p.m.; leave Columbus for Opeliku ul 8.00 and 11.80
i.u. Connects at Columbus with Aluacogee Ruilroud
Louisville and Nashville Railroad.
For the North and H est.
No. 1. No. 2.
Leave Atlanta 8.15 a.m. 7.00p.tn.
Arrive at Ghattanooga 4.20 p.m. 8.80 a.m.
Leave Chattanooga 8.0" p.m. 4.45 a.tn.
Arrive at Nashville 6.00 a.m. 2.00 p.tn.
Leave Nashville 6.00 a.m. 8.00 p.m.
Arrive at Louisville 1.00 p.m. 11.Ot* p.m
Leave Louisville 1.15 p.m. 11.15 p.m.
Arrive at Indianapolis 6.40 p.m. 4.45 a.m.
Arrive at St. Louis 8.00 a.m. 8.00 a.m.
Arrive at Chicago 8.40 a.m. 10.40 p.m.
Arrive ut Cincinnati 12.10 a.m. 6.20 a.m.
For the South.
Leave Louisville 1.00 a.m. 8.00 p.m.
Arrive at Nashville 9.00 a.m. 6.00 p.m.
Leuve Nashville 6.00 p.m. 9.00 a.m.
Arrive at Chattanooga 4.80 a.m. 6.80 p.m.
Leave Chattanooga 7.00a.m. 7.5° p.m.
Arrive at Atlanta 4.14 p.m 8.17 a.m.
Macon anil Western Railroad.
A. J. White, President.
Day Train. Night Train.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Macon 7.45 a.m. 1.30 p.m. 8.40 p.m. 2.10 a.m.
Atlanta 7.55 a.m. 2.00 p.m. 6.80 p.m. 4.10 a.m.
Central Railroad.
Wu. M. WiDitr, General Superintendent.
Day Train. Night Train.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Savannah. ..8.00 a.m. 6.15 p.m. 7.50 p.m. 6.10 a.m.
Augusta... .8.45 p.m. 5.83 p.m. 10.10 p.m. 8.60 a.m.
Macon 7.05 a.m. 7.30 p.m. 6.00 p.m. 6.56 a.m.
Both trains from Augusta make close connection al
Millen, and change curs for Savannah and Macou. Pas
sengers for Miilcdgeville and Eutunton will take tbty
day train at Augusta.
Macon and Augusta Railroad.
E. W. Colic, Qen’l Sup't.
Leave. Arrive.
Camak, daily 2.40 p.m. 8.66 a.m
Miiledgeville, daily 5.30 um. 6.20 p.m
Day trains from Augusta or Atlantu uu the Georgia
Railroad, make close connection at Cuiuak lor interme
diate points on the above road; also tor Macon, etc.
Passengers leaving Miilcdguvi.le at 6.30 a.m., reacb,
Augusta and Atlanta same day.
Sonth Carolina Railroad,
H. T. Pkakb, General Superintendent.
Leave Augusta Central Joint Depot, at 8.16 a.ss
Arrive ut Augusta Central Joint Depot at 9.45 a.m
The 8.10 a.m. train goes through to Wilmington, N
C., wit bout change ol curs, l'ussengers tor Charles
ton, Columbia, etc., will take the 6.50 a.m. or 4.00 p.tu.
trains.
Montgomery and Mobile Railroad.
Leave. Arrive.
Montgomery B.to p.m. 6.80 a.m
Mobile 8.00p.m. 10.26 a.n'.
Montgomery and Eufaula Railroad.
Leave. Arrive.
Montgomery B.ou p.m. Hun in
Mathews 7.50 am. 6.10 p.m
This train connects at terminus with stage for Union
Springs on Mouduy, Wednesday and Friday of each,
week.
NashTllle and Chattanooga Railroad.
Jko. W. Thomas, Superintendent,
Day Train. Night Ti-ain.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Chattanooga.4.4s a.m. 6.80 p.m. 8.00 p.m. 4.80 a.m
Nashville .. .9.00 a.m. 2.00 p.m. 6.00 p.m. 6.00 a.ar-
Connects with Shelbyville Branch and with McMinn
ville A Manchester Railroad.
Louisville and Nashville Railroad.
Day Train. Night Train.
Leave. Arrive. Leave. Arrive.
Nashville. ...6.10 a.m. 1.10 p.m. 6.80 p.m. 4.00 a.m
Louisville ..8.80a.m. 6.2 u p.m. 6.10p.m. 8.65 a.m.
Franklin (Ay-) Accommodation.
Leave. Arrive.
Nashville 680 p.m. 11.65 a.m
Franklin,. 6.50 a.in. 10.8 c p.u*
B0ND& FOR TITLES.—For sale at the
FRANKLIN PRNITING HOUBX.
I Coming South—Leave
New York 7.80 p.m.
Philadelphia.... 11.00 p.m.
!Baltimore 3.50 a.m.
IW'aahington 6.30 a.m.
Lynchburg 5.25 p.m.
Bristol 7.10 a.m.
Knoxville 2.56 p.m.
Dalton 9.08 p.m.
Arrive Atlunta.. 8.86 a.m.
