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MISECL 1; ANY.
The annexed touching Lines, by the Rev.
Dr. Bethune, of Charleston, are from the
Knickerbocker for April.
|T© MY WIFE.
*
Afar from thee; The morning break?.
But morning brings no joy to me;
Alas! my spirit only wakes,
To know I am afar from thee;
In dreams I saw thy blessed faee,
And thou wert nestled on my breast;
• In drcam3 I felt thy fond embrace.
And to mine own thy heart was. prest.
Afar from thee! ’Tis solitude,
Though smiling crowds around me be,
The kind, the beautiful, the good—
For I can only think of thee;
Os thee, the kindest, loveliest, bus;;
My earliest and my only one;
i Without thee, I am all unblest,
And blest with thee alone.
Afar from thee! (he words of praise
My listless ear unheeded greet;
What sweetest seemed in better days,
■Without thee, seems no longer sweet:
The dearest joy fame can bestow,
Is in thy moistened eye to see,
And in thy cheeks unusual glow',
Thou deem’st mo not unworthy thee.
Afar from thee! The night is come,
But slumbers from my pillow flee-;
I cannot rest so far from home,
And my heart's home is, love, with thee!
I kneel before the throne of prayer,
And then I know that thou art nigh;
For God, who seeth. every where.
Bends on us both his watchful eye.
Together in his loved embrace,
No distance can our hearts div.de!
Forgotten quite the mediato space,
I kneel thy kneeling form beside;
My tranquil frame then sinks to sleep,
But soars the spirit far and free;
O welcome bo night’s slumbers deep,
For then, dear love; I am with thee,
G. W. B
Charleston, S.C., March, 1833..
THE CURATE’S DAUGHTER.
A LIVERPOOL TALE.
At sweet sixteen, she was a lovely maid,
At seventeen, she was tempted and misled,
And soon disease on hor sysiom prey’d
That on her nineteenth birth day she lay—dead.
At a very short distance, in a south west di
rcctron, from the new Custom House of Liv
erpool, there formerly was n cluster of old,
meanlopking buildings. Through the centre
of that cluster, u thoroughfare, culled Bridge
street, led from Salthouse Dock to the bridge
over the message or, entrance into the Old
Dock which then occupied the site of the pres
ent Custom house. Bridge street was a den of
infamy, and in that place, when I was a young
inuti, a heart rending scene of misery occurred,
which never can be obliterated from my mem
ory. But, to let the reader have a clear idea
of the scene 1 will give a preliminary narrative
of the cause and events (lint led to it.
In the autumn of the year 1589, two young
gentlemen, the heirs and hopes of certain aris
tocratic fumilies of Liverpool, were on a shoo
ting excursion in the adjoining country of
Chester, when hv some act of imprudence of
otto of the party his fowling piece was invol
untarily discharged, and most unfortunately,
in a direction that caused its contents to dan
gerously wound his companion. A substitute
for a tourniquet was constructed with a hand
kerchief; but previous to its application, the!
effusion of blood had been so immoderate, that
the unfortunate youth fainted several times be
fore his companion could convey him to the
nearest dwelling. But at length, with much
difficulty, they reached the residence ofo.-.cof
the Church’s true ornaments, a worthy, pious,
pains taking country curate, where assistance
%vas promptly rendered to the wounded youth,
surgical aid procured, and every attention of
fered and bestowed that humanity, bencvol
once, and hospitality could suggest.
It being deemed dangerous to .attempt an
immediate removal of the youth, a couch was
prepared, anil he became domicile in the hum
ble but happy dwelling of the worthy pastor,
than whom no bishop in the land could, or
would have acted the part of a good Samari
tan; though the exemplary son of the Church
received not the fifteenth part annual income
of the bishop of his diocese.
Some wise man has said, that, of nil remc
dies, the best is a good nurse,’ and, in this res
pect, it happened most fortunately for the
wounded youth, an angel (in his estimation at
least) hovered about his stek couch. Her
movements wero noiseless, her attentions in
cessant, and taken for all in all, she appeared
to be a being who had borrowed pity’s bland
est attributes, and had been taught by charily
how to administer kind aii in a midion soo!H.
mg wavs. In personal appearance she wa»<
beautiful and eU gant, her ago was sixteen—;
the very Mav of woman's life, and—if ever in- 1
noccnce had a temple on earth, it might at that ]
t me have been found in tire bosom of I«euisn;
May son, who you ig, beautiful, cheerful and;
happy, revelled in all the joys of health, ant*
innocence, was the delight and admiration cf
her friends, and the idolized object of her doa
lag father’s earthly adoration. To her the
id seemed a pertect and, so far as
her own knowledge of it wont, its inhabitants
were all as guileless as angels.
The youth soon recovered, and prepared to
depart, hut during the intimacy that hadj>een
established in the short period of his confine
meat at the parsonage, Love had planted one
i of his sharpest darts in Louisa’s bosom, what
j passion predominated in the breast of the youth
i the sequel of the narrative will disclose.
Some twelve months after the period at
which the above occurrence took place, 1 was
induced to visit my worthy friend,; the Rev.
Mr. Mayson, and it so chanced that I arrived
at his parsonage at a most remarkable epoch
of the old man’s life. 1 stood on such terms of
intimacy with my friend a? to render ceremo
ny unnecessary, and therefore, finding the out
ward porch door open, I at once entered the
place, and proceeded, unushered, into the good
rnah’s little study, but not finding him there, 1
proceeded to several other apartments in the
house, all of which were vacant and indeed, on
closer investigation, I discovered that the
house was altogether tenantless, though there
were many things that indicated the late occu
pants had not very recently quitted the place.
I had taken my station at the dining room
window, and was deeply abstracted in a pain
ful fit of musing on what could have caused
the family to quit the house, when my atten
tion was drawn to a group of people advancing
towards the parsonage, in as solemn a manner
as though they formed a funeral procession.
In the midst of the crowd I perceived my rev
erend friend borne in the arms, of his servants
and parishioners, who carried him to his study
and carefully seated him in his arm chair. I
perceived tiiat the good old man was in a grie
vious state of deep distress and soon gathered
from one of the crowd, that Miss May.son had
eloped with the youth, who when wounded had
been so hospitably received, and kindly treat
ed during his sojourn at the parsonage. I af
terwards learnt that Miss Mayson had been
inveigled from home under a basely decep
tions promise of marriage. Poor Louisa!
thine was indeed a sad fall from the highest
pinnacle of peace, iunocence and happiness, to
the lowest depth of sorrow, sin and shame.
Uis unnecessary to continue a description
of the sharftefull scenes that occurred on this
occasion at the parsonage or to proceed on
other matters connected with this narrative,
step by step with, but overtake him some two
years after Louisa’s elopement.
At the last mentioned period, the Rev. Mr.
Mayson visited Liverpool—bet how changed!
his shrunken body, and melancholy mind show
ed that he had become a mere wreck of the
happy man 1 had known in former times.
When the business which called Mr. May.
son to Liverpool was completed, I accompani
ed him towards the hank of the river Mersey,
where he intended tc embark for Cheshire;
but as we were proceeding along the South
side of the Old Dock, my reverend friend was
accosted by an aged female, who urged him,
for the love of Heaven! if he was a clergy
man, to accompany her to a house near by,
to perform the last offices of religion to the liv
ing, to a poor dying, penitent, sinful creature,
who lay most earnestly imploring to have her
last moments cheered with spiritual aid. TT:e
house to which the old woman pointed was in
Bridge street, hut no fastidious scruples could
ever deter my worthy friend from the perfor
mance of his duty to sick or dying mortals —
He therefore promptly obeyed the old woman’s
call, by following her to a mean dwelling, on
entering which, we were led, by our ancient
guide, until we reached a wretched apartment,
the Veritable abode of squalid poverty and dis
ease. The chamber wo had entered was
without table, chair, or bed, but in a remote
corner of the place; there was spread a truss
of straw, over which some ragged female gar
ments were strewed, whilst a tattered sheot
(as an apology for a curtain) screened the
light’s glare from some poor distressed crea
ture, whose presence was betokened only by
deep low and hollow moans, for the sufferer’s
body was buried in straw, and the visage hid
from sight by a course rug, or covering—a
blanket of the foulest description. Never shall
l outlive the remembrance of that wretched
scene of want, woe, misery, and disease! Thus
far, not a word had been uttered by anv one
of the party in the apartment, but at length tho
old woman who had brought us to tho place,
said: “ I’liere she is, sir, lying at her last gasp.
O’ pray for her salvation, sir, an i may Heav
en reward your labor 1 ’ Then pointing to the
bed of straw, she continued, “Kneel down by
her sir, and speak comfort to her in the last
hour. Thus called on my worthy friend
made the needful preparations to enter on his
spiritual duties, but the old woman hastily left
us, Alas! 1 fear her soul was too much sear
ed by sin, to permit it to have any yearnings
to join us in prayer.
\Ve knelt, and there was that in the scene'
which would also have brought the sneering
sceptic, and the most hardened sinner to a sup
pliant posture.
My pious friend—ever so prepared—drew
from his pocket the bonk of Common l’rayer,
and turned to the service of the sick. By this
time the loud moans of the afflicted one had
ceased, but her breathings continued quick and
gutleral, and she attempted to utter some
sounds which 1 interpreted into pious thanks,
at having been indulged by Heaven sending
her a holy minister of the Church to give her
the last consolations of religion.
The good old nun began to read, but had
no sooner pronounced “Peace be to ties house
and all that dwell tin-rein”—when a fearfully
wild, and appalling shriek, burs* from the lips
of the sick woman, but when that shrill and
heart rending sound subsided, all became again
as silent us death: the gutteral gasping of the
breath had cease 1, the rustle of a leather might
have been heard, the silence of the sepulchre
prevailed, or rather was cx:eeic lor the in
cessant crawling of the maggots, to and from
their feasts, disturbs the reign of silence in the
tomb. When the transient shudder, with
which the sufferer’s shriek had shaken our
frames, had passed away I raised the homely
covering, and beheld a sad object of departing
beauty: I saw death’s effigy strikingly im
pressed on the features of a young, and, but
too evidently, a once lovely female.
1 made a sign to my old friend to announce
that death had relieved the sufferer from her
worldly woes, hut with the movement of my
arms, the temporary curtain was thrown to
the ground, leaving a small gleam of light to
fall on the livid features of the corpse and thus
were they to the view of the pious clergyman,
as he arose from his praying posture. The
sight greatly- agitated him —he bent forward
and strained the organs of vision until they had
well nigh burst from their sockets—another
and still another glance, he cast at the depart
ed object, over which he leaned, unwilling to
believe, yet unable to doubt, until at length the
sad truth became indelibly impressed upon his
mind, and again he sank on his knees, and
made an effort to pray, but his tongue unable
to perform its duty, he threw himself on the
dead body,'and in convulsive agony, exclaim
ed “my child!—my God, thy will be done!”
and then with one of grief’s most hitler sighs,
he also gave up the ghost.—Again all was sil
ent as the tomb, I remained awe struck at hav
ing witnessed two vital sparks thus suddenly
summoned from this world of woe. The bod.
ies of a broken hearted father and a sinful
daughter lay before me, sad moments of the
uncertainty of life, and, alas!—of the depravi
ty of human nature.
1 caused the bodies to he removed, and in a
brief space of time the remains of the once
lovely Louisa Mayson, and those of the meek,
benevolent and truly pious father, wore con
signed to the same grave. May a better lot
be their’s in a better world!
GENUINE AND TRUE.
A young man who boarded at a house in the
country, where were several coy damsels, was
one forenoon accosted by an acquaintance and
asked what he thought of the young ladies.—
lie replied they were very shy and reserved.
“So they are,” returned the other, “and so
much so, that no gentleman could get near e*
nough to tell the color of their eyes.”
“That may be,” said the hoarder quickly,
“yet 1 will stake a miilion that 1 cun kiss ill.-m
all three without any trouble.”
“That you cannot do,”cried the friend. “It
is an achievement which neither you nor any
other man can accomplish.”
The other was positive; and invited his
friend to the houso to witness his triumph.—
They entered the room together, and the three
girls were all at home silting beside their mo
ther, and they all looked as prim and deiritire
as John Rogers at the stake.
Our hero assumed a very grave aspect, ov
en to dejection—and having looked wistfully
at the clock, breathed a sigh as deep as alge
bra, and as long as a female dialogue at tho
street door. Ilis singular deportment now at.
traded the attention of tho girls, who cast their
slow opening eves upwards to his countenance.
Perceiving the impression lie had made, he
turned to his companion and said in a doleful
voice—“it wants three minutes of the time.”
“Do you speak of dinner?” said the old lady
putting down her sewing work.
“Dinner,” said he with a bewildered aspect,
and pointing unconsciously, with curled fore
finger at tho clock.
A silence ensued, during which the female
part of the household glared at the young man
with irrepressible curiosity.
“You will see me decently interred,” said
lie turning again to his friend.
His friend was as much puzzled as any body
present, and his embarrassment added to the
intended effect. But the ’old lady being no
longer able to contain herself, cried—
“ Mr. C , pray what do you speak of?”
“Nothing,” answered he with a lugubrious
tone, “but that last night a spirit appeared to
me;” here the girls rose to their feet and drew
near —“and the spirit gave me warning that 1
should die at exactly twelve o’clock to day,
and you see it wants but Haifa minute of the
time!”
The girls turned pale and their hidden syrn.
pathies were soon awakened for the doomed
and departing one. 'They stood chained to
the spot, looking alternately at the clock and
the unfortunate youth, he then walked up to
the eldest of the girls, and taking her by the
hand, bade her a solemn farewell. He also
imprinted a kiss upon her trembling lips; which
she did not attempt to resist.
He bade the second and third farewell in
the same tender and affectionate manner.—
His object was achieved, and at that moment
the clock struck twelve.
Hereupon he looked around surprised, and
ejaculated, “who would liuvo believed that an
apparition could tell such a lie. It was prob
ably the ghost of Ananias or Snpphira.”
It was some time before the sober maidens
understood the joke, and when they did they
evinced no resentment. The first kiss broke
the ice, and thanks to the ghost, they discover
ed that there was some pleasure in the press
ure ofa bear Jed cheek.
HOW TO CHOOSE A GOOD HUSBAND.
When you sec a young man of modest, re
spectful, retiring manners, not given to pride,
1 to vanity, or flattery, he will make a good hus
band; for he w ill be the same kind man to
wards h:s wife after marriage that he was be
fore it.
When you see a young man of frugal and
ndustrious habits, no “fortune hunter” but
who would take a wife for the value of her
self, and not for the sake of her wealth, that
n:aa wilt make a good husband, for his affec
tion will not decrease,neither will he bring him- j
self or his partner to poverty, arid want.
When you see a young man, whose manners
are of the boisterous and disgusting kind, with
“brass” enough to carry him any where, and
vanity enough to make him think every one
inferior to himself—don’t marry him, girls, lie
will not make a good husband.
When you see a young man, who is using
Ids best endeavors to raise himself from obscu
rity to credit, character and affluence, by his
own merits, marry him; he will make a good
husband, and one worth having.
When you see a young man depending sole
ly for his reputation and standing in society,
upon the wealth of his father or other relations |
—don’t marry him, for goodness’ sake; he will j
mnkea poor husband.
When you see a young man one half of his i
time employed in adorning his person, or rid- ■
ing through the streets in gigs, who leaves his
debts unpaid, although frequently demanded—
never, never do you marry him; for he will in
every respect make a bad husband.
When you see a young who
gages in any affrays or quarrels by day, nor
lollies by night, and whose general conduct is
not of so mean a character as to make him;
wish to conceal iiis name; and does not keen i
low company, nor break the Sabbath, nor use
profane language, but whose face is seen reg- j
ularly at church where he ought to be—lie will
certainly make a good husband.
When a young man, who is below you in
wealth, offers you marriage, don’t deem it a
disgrace but look into his character; and if
you find it correspond with these diiections,
take him, and you will get a good husband.
Never make money an object of marriage;
for if you do, depend upon it, as a balance for
the good, you will get a had husband.
When you see a young man, who is atten
tive and kind to his sisters, or aged mother,
who is not ashamed to be seen in the streets
with the woman who gave him birth and nur
sed him, supporting her weak and tottering
frame upon his arm, and who will attend to all
her little wants with filial love, affection and
tenderness—take him, girls, who can get him;
no matter what his circumstances in life, he is
truly worth the winning,and will toacertainty
make a good husband.
Lastly, always examine into character,con
duct and motives, and when you find these
good qualities in a young man, then may you
be sue he will make a good husband. — Green
ci/le Mountaineer.
NOTICE.
W’®/’ ILL be eoM mi the 2nd day of August next,
V w m the town of Van Wert, Paulding Conroy,
rliree FRONT, Anil the BACK LOIS belonging fi <
said Town, to (lie highest bidder.— Persons wishing
lo lay out money for town property, would do well to
attend 'lie sale, tor wo have a valley of splendid loud,
and clear limestone‘water, in a beautiful country
that is rapidly stalling with rich farmers; the bony
it'id sinew of nny inland village. Sale to continue
Irorn day to day until all are sold. Terms made
known on the day ol sale. By order of Court.
BARNABAS PACK, Ci’k.
May 29-19-ids.
Murray Superior Court, May Adjourned
i Term, ISIS.
IN open court, personally came Baylos Donaldson,
and being duly sworn, deposeth and says, that he
has lost or mislaid a promissory Note, a copy of which j
is hereto appended , and that the same cannot he found
BAYLOS DONALSON.
Sworn to in open court.
JOHN S. BEALL, Clerk.
COPY NOTE. j
Six months after date, we or eiiher of us promise |
to pay Benjamin Sams or bearer, Forty Dolla; s. Vul- ;
ue received. May Ist, IB3G.
Wilson Hold on.
Joshua Holder.
Riley Wilson, Security, j
In Murray Superior Court, May Adjourned I
Term, 1899.
RULE NISI.
IT appearing to the satisfaction of the court, that j
Baylos Donaldson lost or mislaid a promissory |
Note,drawn by Wilson Holden, Joshua Holden and I
Riley Wilson, payable to Benjamin Sams, lor tho sum ■
of forty dollars, dated the first day of May, 18!Hi, and ;
due on the first day of November of said year thereaf
ter. It is, therefore, on motion of counsel, ordered
that the makers of said note do shew cause at the next
term of this court, why the annexed copy should not
he established in lieu of eaid lost original note, und
th itn copy of this rule be served upon the defendants,
if to be found, or bo published three months before the
sitting of that court, in one of the public gazettes of
this Stare,
A true transcript from the minutes of court.
JOHN S. BEALL, Clerk.
May 15, 1838 —l7-3 m.
NOTI C E .
IhXOUR month after da*e application will be made
to the Honorable the Inferior Court of Gil,
mer County, when sitting for ordinary purposes, for
leave to soil Lot No. 2fi, in the 11th District, 2nd
Section, formerly Cherokee, now Gilmer County;
being a part of the Real Estate of William Ellington,
late of said county deceased.
L. D, ELLINGTON, Ad’m’r.
March 24, 10. w4m.
NOT IC E.
FOUR months after date application will be made
to the Honorable the Interior Court of Gilmer
County, when sitting for ordinary purposes, for leave
to sell two Negroes, being the E-ia'e of Priscilla
Ellington late of said County deceased, sold for the
purpose of division.
L. D. ELLINGTON, Ad’m’r.
March 24, 10, w4in.
NOTICE.
monihs after date application will be made
to the honorable the Ihlertor Court of Walker
county, when sitting for ordinary purposes, for leave to
sell Two Lots of Land, No. 132, iathe 13 h District of
the 4’h Section: and No. 116, in the 16th District of
the 3d Section, it being a part of the Real Estate ol
John Gilbert, late ol Jackson county deceased.
ROBERT ALLEN, Admr.
March 17, 9 w-lm
B LAIVHS FOR SAFE,
AT T?T '<? TF l< l:.
coir n t c a is ea i* An.
SUPERIOR COURTS'
January.
Ist Monday, Richmond,
2d ■* Chatham,
February.
Ist Monday, Sievvart,
“ Floyd,
Pauldmg.Thursduy before
2d Monday, Clark,
“ ' Bibb,
“ Macon,
“ Randolph,
“ Cass,
3J “ Walton,
“ Crawford,
“ Early,
“ Cherokee,
14th “ Baker,
“ Jackson,
“ Meriwether,
“ Forsyth,
“ Upson,
Lee, Thursday aficr,
March.
Ist Monday, Go wet aa,
“ Lumpkin,
** Pike,
“ Sumpter,
“ Taliaferro,
i 2J “ Columbia,
“ Fayette,
“ Greene,
“ Lmm up,
“ Madison,
“ Marion,"
“ Monroe,
“ Morgm,
“ Gwinnett,
' | “ Union,
j Gilmer, Wednesday after,
; 3d Monday. B uis,
*• Elbert.
“ DeKa'b,
“ Hall,
“ Putnam,
“ Talbot,
“ Murray,
4th “ Bullock,
“ Cobb,
“ Dooly,
Newton,
“ Walker,
“ Washington,
“ Wilkes,
Effingham,Thursday after
Arp.tr.,
: Ist Monday, Warren,
, “ Wilkinson.
“ Campbell,
2d “ Carroll,
“ Dade,
“ Camden,
“ Hancock,
“ Harris,
“ fiomy,
“ Frank I nf,
“ Montgomery
“ Twiggs,
Tumuli, Thursday niter,
Wayne, “ “
3b .Vim.day, Kni knife i,
“ Habersham,
“ Heard,
•• Gijmt,
“ Julies,
“ Muscogee,
“ Oglethorpe,
'• Pulaski,
Mclntoih,l hu/sda> uftcr,
lib Monday, Serivt n,
“ Lincoln,
" Rabun,
Ja poi,
“ Telfair,
“ Houston,
“ Troup,
“ Liberty,
j trwin, Thursday after,
! Bryan, Wednesday after,
|
May,
: Ist Monday, Burk a,
~ Appling,
j Ware, Thursday atier, ;
|2d Monday, Chatham, ;
“ Lowndes, ;
j3d “ Jefferson,
“ Thomas, 1
! lih “ Decatur,
? UNITED STATES CO UR l\
Sixth Circuit lor the district nl Geo Vs* fit — James M
' Wayne, Circuit Judge—At Savannah, Thursday alter
the Ist ,\i unlay 31 May—Mit.i.Kmji.vnxi-:, Thursday
j after the Ist .Monday Bih November —Rules day, the
| IMt Mon lays m each month, upon which day s all writs
! ate returnable to the Clerk’s oliice in Savannah.
District Court— Jeremiah Cuyi.f.r, Jtirlgc— In Ss
' vannuh, 2d Tuesday 13th February—2J Tnesdny’Bih
| May—2d Tuesday 14th August—2d Tuesday I3tta No*
J vetnber.
KOL'CATIU.V,
I Subscriber’s School, located in (ho centre
ISL of Vani.’s Valley, contiguous to General
; James Hemphill’s, is now open tor the reception of
j students at the following rales of tuition, per sttiaio.i
I of five months.
i Beginners, .... - sl* 00
j Rudiments ot Amhme'ie tiurl Geography, B Os)
English Grammar ar.d Geography. - 12 00
Classics and Scienceo, - - - 13 00
! Boarding can bo obtained at from si* to eight dol
lars per month, washing included. As ibo number
|of students will be limited, those who design sen
ding their children or Wards will please make early
application. c
JOHN WAR NOCK.
May 5-16-3 t.
j NOTICE.
ffI,V>UR months after.late application will be madw
IjL to the honorable the Inferior Court of Walker
! county, when sitting as a court ol Ordinary, for leovo
; to sell all the Real Estate of Harris Sprayberry, lota
ofsa.d county, deceased*
HARVEY J. SPRAYBERRY, Adm’r.
') March 17, 9 w4m
NOTICE.
AGREEABLE to an order of the Honorable 'the
Inferior Court of Floyd county, when sifting^*
I a Court of Ordinary, will be sold on the first Tuesoay
5 in July next, in the town of Rome, the Fallow mg prop
r I erty, to wit: One negro woman by the name of Ibby,
, ! about it .tty years old; Harriett, about thirty; ,
f two negro girls—one by the name of *.«i*tlier, about
f tixteen years old, the other by the name of I.IICV,
I : >en years old. Also, one I*n|»rOV«‘«l I,Ot nl (ha
1 town ol Rome, No. 21, in the Coosa Division. Sold
| for the benefit of the heirs and creditors of tho Estate
: of Wm. H• Meredith, late of said county deceased
Terma nude know n on the day of sale.
JESSE LAMBERT!!, Administrator
w ith the Will annexed. $
April It, 1 -833. 13-tds.
June.
Ist Monday,’, Baldwin,
“ Richmond,
August.
Ist Monday, Stewart,
“ ' Flovd,
2d “ Clark,
“ Bibb,
“ Randolph,
“ Cass,
Macon,
3d “ W’alfon,
“ Crawford,
“ Early,
“ Cherokee,
4th “ Baker,
“ Jackson,
“ Emanuel,
“ Upson,
11 MeriweihetV
" Forsyth,
Lee, Thursday alter, "
September.
Ist Monday, Pike,
“ G i finer,
“ Taliaferro,
“ Coweta,
“ Lumpkin,
2d “ Columbia
“ Madison
“ Morgan
“ Lauren’s
“ Monroe
“ Fayette
4 , Greene
v „ Marion
.• Gwinnett
“ Union
3d “ Elbert
“ Etuis
“ DeKalb
“ Hall
Talbot
„ Murray
,i Puina m
.* Newton
*i Cobb
“ Walker
*• Bulloch
“ Dooly
Washington
“ Wilkes
OcTOJK'B.
Ist Monday, W urren
“ Wilkinson
Campbell
M ontgfimery
l 2d ' Hancock
‘ Franklin
Camden
.. Twiggs
i. Dude
e Hetiry
„ Carrol
Harris
3 ] Emanuel
* i
t( (> ifiuliO'pe
, t liuUorshuin
4, Jones
4 4 Piita'ski
“ It urd
“ JVtu-co gee
•fill “ Seri veil
“ I,'lieu it
Rabun
Jasper
44 Telfair
•• Houston *
“ 'i t oti p
Noyn.vaf.a.
Bulloch, W ( .inesday be
fore :ho I t .Monday
Elliughatn, Fuduy ufiur,
the la Monday,
2d Monday, •)< ll rami
3d ” Boiko
“ Applying
Ware, Tliuisday after
Lowndes, .Monday alitr,
I'bomue, At 041. thereafter,
Decatur, “
• 4ih Monday, Camden
• Wayne,- Thursday alter
• Glynn, Monday ihejrffaUer
• Mclntosh, Thursday “
; Liberty, Monday, “
! Ilryuu, Wednesday “