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. t :i XTGjLm. 9. the GEORGIA CITIZEN ! evtr> Friday mcralag at iLfOper annum in >W ‘ r will be Adtar fired vcnrdM nr leu*. for the srst inser '"•'Tyn ('{Fttfor cacti All ad fie*. ini r * { i _ ec jj d( i u o time, will be published nr.tll ,'v r. ■ f*wl diTi*ty. A liberal discount showed jliTTllwl'T lie F T - ... , AMwnrV ‘ u,| cv. ,t o " £r ,en Une> ’ W ”‘ V ‘*’ r * cd “*> bepaidfor at ffcuhnittil. B*,T” „ (mteacs made with county oCcera, Druggist*. h ' rli ‘ \ipr hint?, ami others, who may wish to make to-'f- c .r V 1 n i nn<l lirtren. ’.t Executor*. Admlr.lstr*- “•'T;’’ -.V “ ■ rwpnraJ ‘'V taw to be sdverttsod in a *■ TfJiMrtt'e forty dap- previous to the dav f sale. Krl ‘t,v-tr.ii-t'be hew on the Unit Tuesday in the month, r ‘‘ ‘ir<of ten :n the !•—■ and threeia the af- IW,1 W , s ,! the Court-house in the county in which the prop *'.,le*otWmna: Property most be advertised in like 1 V dro to Hrluor* and (Milan of an Estate must be ’"a tii'f rji l ...dion will be mado to the Ordinary for j V, .*?. ; Lai’: and Negroes, must be putiiiahnd weekly for | l * M f-,r inters of Administration, thirty ilio; for j 11 11 fmta Administration, monthiv. six tnouna j for i . , -..ip. *> -•'. v f :t v - 1 ■! r, r iiirrrifwin; of Mortgage*. monthly, four 1 *V r ~<ta - .ma t paper*. f< -r the full nonce of three ! rpunpeiilng titlesfromexecutors or•!sdnlMmroi* , ™j’ id l.a been niven by the deceased, the fuil space of | on /,-*i'iti*l an.l Bioinesw I anh will be inserted un swtbi tead. at the fcUowfi* rates. Tit: v rF.ve.. es. pet arts tun, * 5 00 do Stvett ilnes. <jo S M Vsdtert iscnt if this class will he sdin'itt-d, unless paid ,i r r a Vss term than twelve month*. Ad .. .. •ii.;’ .verted I'nes will becharjredpro rota. Ad ’ ‘h .. . -,. s’ t [aid for in advance win be charged at the /SilsTimS; Samuel H. Washington, attorney AT 1? V IV, Macon, G-a. WIIL Pn ‘T In all the Counties of the CIR- i •TIT. am! ir. the Cuuatie* of Washington, Wilkinson and , XjMWM. [ (rffl Q\t to fVirrwt Hall, nxer Paync’a UpigStOTe. lAKIER & ANDERSON, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Mason, Or., PRAnTICEIn the counties of the Macon Circuit, and In | ta. Fount,es of Sumter, Muaroe and Jones; also in Ue | federal Courts at Savannah. UXTEP. & AN’SRSON have also recently become the kre; iof the following Ir u ran ee Com panl -a: TANARUS( F. ACOI'hTA INM’KASCK ANbIIANKXKO COM PANY of which \V. M. D’Antignac is l*resident, stid C. F. M A: AKABAMA FTRE AM MAKIMK A>Ti-*.’oMPASY, Montgomery. <>f which’i’. 11. VvaC.is •'-iient.and A. WilUamsUSecretary. Fire risk • and risks on slaves taken at usual rates. aIT At —ts L. N. WHITTLE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, hLICOK, GA. OIFICE next to Concert Hall,over Payne’s Drag Store, an 10—ly LOCKRAKE & LAMAS, Attorneys at. Lav/, MACOHJ, GA, Office by the Mechanic’s Bank. OmeE lIOUTtS fnitn 8 to li A. M.. 2 to# F. 11. and also from; to 10 P. M. Un”. rwA.ce in alltlr* Conntiesof *he Macon fltmlt amftu tmi'-na . - l Junes, Mooroe and Ccaumlda, and in the au preme Court. O. A. LOCnRAM. JOBS LAMAR. SPEER & HUNTER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Macon, Ga., sa rriancnUr B!k, Coraer cf Cherry Stmt snd Cotton Irpnar. rr y. have as*ociated as partnem In the practice of Law in It the courtier o'C-e Sv io and •vdjoinlng Circuits, and ewvherv in the Mate by special c--ntract—also, will auend tie f aleralCourt* aiaavoanah mid ( Manetta. #pj;j;;R fcbiMy h A lil’E LI ICXT LR. R. GRIFFIS. I W. C. M. DUSSOH GRIFFIN &. DUNSQN, Attorneys at Law, DOKT. GA. Hofero2icc : Rst J E. llniwn, Mpkdgwlllt: Hi 11. Washington Poe. S : S G* : Hon Wm.L.Tancey, MonljS'inery. A;a.; Hon. T. K. R. Cobb. Athens, Ga.; Hon. C. J. IlctA-nali, Mariet- U.G*. Dim K—liter tstniLecLer A ’ > • .Ir ti ttre. LratAlD T. LOYAL, Attorney at Law, Griff! li, Gft., OFFICE nil Hrii Street, between Wbodrnn Carriage Re < yitorv and lieohiißni Funuture btore. Oct.ie-ly Ki fcwsce. L. T. DOTAL. JAMES T. ELLIOTT, Attorney & Counsellor at Law, r.l .VDfjy, ARKANS AS. W.I! at:, ui to all lit -mess entrusted to him in Jtoutb Ar kum-oJ. J’e l-->-Iv “the liver IHIGORATOR! PREPARBD BT DR. SALFORD, COMPOUNDED ENTIRELY FROM GUMS, I’ nsofthehei* Purgative and Liver Medlaneanow hefnev I *!;e that acts as a Cathartic, ea ler, milder, and l ‘ rfretaal thaaany oti.er medicine known. Uis not or. ’■CSMe. hot a Liver remedy, srtin* fr*t rn the Liver c.M itsraorhid matter, then on tlie Stomach and bowels to ‘“TVf that natter, thus areoni'dlshirr two purposes etfee ''•ai.v, without any of the t ainful feel lugs experienced in the fft*r’ -ns utmost Cathartics. It strengthen* the svstem at “tssiue time that it purge* it; and when taken daily in mod- doses, will stret gthen and betid It up with unusual rsp- LIYER:? - :'the| • tr;- ’ r -Fut ‘-rs of ti e ji'-m hodv; atnl when it! oerfusr. s itsftmetiona wail, • >ofti,e.v?tiiuMre( Bl Filly developed. Thestrm •t entirelydepen-t dent on the heaithy action r Ar the proper! S 1 f erformAneeefHslinicSlon*; • , w e at fauiCand ; - tr t fufrerslnl ‘nin*rouer.ceof cvneorynn— uU £H_haritig ceased! *- ito do its duty. For the dla ■ Sat organ,ene oft , ‘th*- proprietors la* made It ; - • t a pracUea of i more thrui twenty years,to T'ts fr-nwlv whre-i !w'thoeoun*eractthc many *****to which ilia, a# ;liable. ~ ‘■'•ihuthisn-medvl *** ! sat’.ist four.d. any person ; vtt, LIVER a •iM PLAINT, in any its ’V’ ttnirr a bo” rnr tie. a: and conviction lacertala. Gins raatove alii _. |morbid or had matter from ■'•'■XL. ‘-lpplying inj 2 th-;r place s health v I’w of . ’ £ the rtmi ach, causing food to digest ;5; ‘■nilFYlSG THE 1 ■# :BUX>D. giving toa* and A ‘ j'&t whole maehin- ,ery, remeviug the cause of -■ _ p-i-r—eff, , njr a rad-| hcai cure. -id.. I .’ v ATTACKS, are cured. AND. WHAT I aK.Ot:yvENTLL> bythereosjd-icaJ nee of the - itaTOK.! | ’ ■ -s- per rating u| Isutd.’r.tto relieve the stom diu p-vvet t the food; ■■ from rising and avering. . dost taken bafbre Iretiring. prevents HlGHT 'p’r r *e dose taken at * [night, 1-ov m the bowels i •*- *td cures Cur- !tF\'ENES.-*. ..*ae taken after euj,, m meal will cure DYsPEP eofkwotea- ‘--.loefnls will always re ’ A HEADACHE. * ! ■ t;,t#n for fe- _ male ohetructiotrs retnoves ’ -the c.w.se. sad j makes a parcel core. immediate- • ’ly relieves('HuLlC, while VP p , ten reiatad, ■ ,n sure cure for CHCIr ‘ r -h‘-8. un.i we.’ wr.tatlve of CHOLERA. fZT .; i tie is X needed to throw out of the ” ■- :’ ‘ aft retaltNitM * “ • A fr ” fAI’.M'KE removes si’, ‘--soror.natnraleol- <■£ orfroui th. (Hh. ~, ‘. ! >sen a short “■ time beforeeating gives wig* fooddtaesl well. ‘low uUa repeated! fIE easesCHROSIC DLAR ;V, c-A inttsw-ir-tfo-ius. while SUMMER and . *.*“■ “ U; i*a. ts yield SSL almost to the Srst 6am. * “ ■*“ <!■•- s cans *•’ (attacks caused by WORMS !• Y J“tliao ear- r ier. -vder, or speedier remedy ir It never sis Uil*. l r \ f buttle, c-iresl TjKOPST, by exciting the . ‘ ?.ensure in re- isortmendtng this tnedicine . r.p.ASD Mil HILL * l<- FEVEitS <of a BILXduUS TYPE,- withe, r dntv.[ I end thousands art wtlllng to 10 lU •'oaLufui vir-i ‘MI Itaes. * uUs * ,b,:ir un * nim °” “* 1 ’ of > T 2| 1 .‘_'y," ,, . 1a ‘ho m<>uth v ;h the In\lgora - *” 4 -•"H-w both together. THE LIVER IN7IGORATOR too great Li believe It cure* aa if by ■ *'** ***** giving benefit. eeMrra o#r> , Pvv.t t- J rw l u “‘<! lo cure aov kind of LIVER Com- 1 Ho iJi®” !** . w, ; | t Jairediee or boepeftir. to a ceimon % InsEASLD LIV P “ IC K OSSE DOLLAR PKR BOTTLE. SAX Form A CO, Froprletora, 343 Dr ad-war. Sew Tore. Vl Kolcsalo Agents: “T'* * Pyk. He- l -Ufi ; T. w liyott A Sone, Pbliadel- J TANARUS, VT* ““fjACO-, Boetur ; rs. 11. Hay * < Y ( _ Port-and; I ‘ i! ‘<'*cnati; Gaylord *nan.rotKl,Cleveland £ Daxu. < Uicago : o. J. W***! A Cos, St. LouU; x... *■•,• .KIW, PV.ts.-.’-iran : fe. S. Uiur. ISaMmurc.— ~*r*tau*c by aU DregrieU. Nod Wboimit ar.d Retail by DOCTOR J. Dickson Smith, Practicing Physician, Macon, Ga., \V ILL attend prompeivto all Prosess 4 anal calls made on V~SiIT.. by <Sav 1 T night, tuber *1 his. tu- r reside:,, t. i ft r.—Gver litruml A Durghotii'sdcwelrv PT re. on Cherry .'treet. Ht>IDKM'K— At Mr. J. B. Rom’. jan. ?l-tf DE. A. PIERCE. HOMOEOPATH Oflice in Washington “Slock. Mecicine Caws, and Books on Domestic Practice for sale. Maeos, July 9. 1833. ly H R. FREEJiAK, M. D. HAVING returned to Mutr.n. effer- i is Pr< leenional rervl tt- te it. citbens. mid the surronndit g country, and Is prcitarwl to Irtal their various dlseaves wtrb innocent ve e fat.ie ren'fdits. :o,d hopes that in toneidewlion of the tact that he gives no pois-n. draws no blood, sr,*l never d* stroys tiiscousfitutionsofhispatit ats, he will beliberally paTiordred by theaffliet-d. tW~ Particular sttention will be given to Planta'ion, and oili.T ccunu- practice. rjr” office at the Drug tt,-re of Dr. M. S. Thon son, to whom ha refers. jan. 7—ly MR. €. J. ROOSEVELT, IIOBCEPITUIC PilTSlCil.'t, Ofllice and ilt’hide.icc, Corner W alnut and 3rd Street*. Macon, Ca. jaa.sl —ly MEDICAL NOTICE. Ur. J. U. Large, ANX.'IUXCES to the public that he hss fitted up Rooms, that a. e airy a:nl convenient, to aoconimtslate burgieai and Ghn r ic Gases of all kinds—while and 1 lack—(the cure of RUPTURE and relief of CANCER not excluded.)— Bias es, laboring under chor.ic affecllcus, will be bought. Price accorilir g to their condition. Parties wishing to consult me, can do so bv letter, with the care ful,y dewerised, and I can determine the case tirs.r to senuir g tne ; all* nt. and save expense of send: ip ana return ing—as circumstances render >me cases irtciitahle. 1 have had considerable IV s*ltal experience, whir! gives advantage In Ui care and relief of Chronic cases. Office Mid Residence corn rof Neilh Broad and Atercoru streets. Savannah, Ga. July 9—ts Ur. Samuel Tarver, CIOXTI3CTTES th* j -octiceof Nwreery find / at I*arkers* Mstic, No. Ilk •* e i-’tiiLral R.i!l R’ jl, .!eiTi*r!w>n ComitT.Ga. Ills Port Offlct 1 address ► pier’s TornU-.t Jeffers u County. Purticnhir attention paid to the nf Chronic Any mate persjon wbo Ls aillicted with Dysptpua, lutfMMtnc/. liirotoiltfr sions, GOEOrfbu. I*rr.pfT, <* Files, may. by ai j rue, find red- f. And any female that is all! cted wltli Dysne,)#ia. Liver Covplaiat, |jfopr CUorosi*. Attionoirb'ea, rroiap m* UteH. l.eoe rrto*A, or Pilt may, . - have preserlptkiis and Medicinesvntto then frr Mail. mode rate. nov. lU, 1 S%B. —ly * HR. H. A. MSTTADEB, HAYING sjMUjt a portion of three succcesive years in this elly, during which time he has limited his practice almost exclusively to Surgery, now respectfully offers his services to the citlsensof Macon and surround ing country, in all the branches of his profession. OfLce on the South East Corner ofßd and Cherry rtreeta, over Mr. Asher Ayres’ new Grocery Store. aep27—tf .f. ITEDWAIiDST Real Estate Broker, VtflLhgve prompt a: 1 jh iNJi.al aitentinn to Baying It aid m jing Lauds and cit. pn>,*riy, Exa uining 1 itler, Aecertainlng tec vainc of Real Estate. Rcu'lng Property, and all t.'i- jess iattaining toa set rial Heal Estate Agency. Orvn-x in id :tory c;i stairs, lit l>r. ntichecker's building, dec. Id—f on NEW YORK FOR SALE AT THE MANUFACTURER'S BANK. mar 29 —ts FATTEN & MILLER, (Late PAYTTN, HCTTO3 k so.) Commission Merchants, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. O. riTTSS. A. J. MILLER. July 5,1353. —ly JONATHAN COLLINS, Latk Pattex, Collixs & Cos. Will continue the Commission Business AT t'ie Fir-proof Dvr iti g occupied by (hi m in Macon, in ‘or.r tctlon with hie *on. W. A. COLLINS, and re spect'nliy t> licit* the busir.et e of the Patron* of the late firm, and of Planter* ccnerallv, plcdginx their mjiibidol attention to all buduev- ooi.tde Uto Ihtir care. Advances made ou Chi ton aid other produce In store, and orders cirefollT filled. J. OCLUKS A SIX, Macon, July lit, 1653 —IT (T'l)c (Tilunu paanrcMCATXD.] 71 y CTiifdhood’s Home. 1 am thinkin?. sndlv thinking, Ofthe borne mr childhood knew, When the rosy, light-winged hours O’er uty young licau swiftly tlc-w. I, in fancy, see the wild-wood, Where so oft I used to stray, Tears arc gushing from nay heart-depths. As I muse on it to-day. O. 1 seem to that cottage, As it was in days gone by. And moth inks ! har th' 4 fitot-deps. Poe the laughing, love-lit eye, Os my cherished sister?, brothers H, ar them fondly speak my name, As we wander by the brook-side, In our childhood hours again. And I fancy June’s first rases Still are blooming there for me, That my favorite bird is warbling Forth Ills notes of melody. And they seem to hid me welcome To my own loved horn- 4 again; Then the thought ’tis only fancy, Fills my heart with hitter pain. Death has claimed uiy earthly parents, Set his signet on their brow. Mv sweet home has passed to strangers, And 1 am a wanderer now. Brothers. si*ters, all are parted, And a home we know no more ; Strangers own the dear old homestead That we loved in days of yore. Often memory brings betfbrc me, I And I see, through blinding tears, Forms of friends that used to love me, Playmates of my earliest year*. Oft I ask, “Where arc those iov'd ones? And my sad heart whispers me, “Some are in the ehureh-yard sleeping, And some are wanderers, like thee.” Soon this world-strife will he over. Soon we ’ll hear the Savior’s call; Hear Him kindly hid us welcome To a ho>M prepared for ail 1 • M. CSroaL. mARCXX 18, XSB9. Vor the Georgia Citizen. A AIGHT AT IJACLE BEW’S FIRESIDE. P.Y BILLY FIELDS. One cola winter night,Charley, Stubbs, and a young fellow by the name of Spikes, I and myself, were seated around the snug I fireside at I’nde Hen’s house. We had come out to go fox-hunting, but as the , weather seemed likely to be very unfa ’ vorabl, we had determined to wait for a more favorable opportunity. The cloth i had been removed from the supper-table, and wc had drawn our chairs around the fire, 1 ncle Ned in one corner, and we in a row ; Ned, a young negro boy of I n cli Ben’s, was seated on the floor, roast ing chestnuts. “ l ncle Ben,” said Spikes, “ tell us about your trip to Milledgeviile, two years ago.” “ Why, these boys have hearn me tell that afore many times,” said Lucie Ben. “No, we never did ; please teil us,” responded the crowd. “ Wall,” said he. “ I s’pose es 1 must, I must.—Put on a stick of wood, Ned.” The stick of wood was brought, and Un cle Ben began:— “1 concluded last fall war a year agg, to go down to Miliedgeville to ’tend the session of the Legislator. Wall, after wadin’ through more mud and water than enough to make all the Methodists in Georgy Baptist preachers, 1 arriv. and put up at the Miliedgeville Hotel, and a mighty nice place it is too; the man what keeps it is as perfic a gentle man as yer generally meets in a place where yer is a stranger. His name ar Brown, divilisb scace name in Georgy, wut w hen you happen to stumble on one of them, you finds him all O. k. Wall, arter dinner war over, I thought I would look round and see the 2rowd, when presently a ii tie clook-makin’ lookin’ lit tle feller, dressed up in good clothes, comes up to me, and sez— is a member fr u m Jones, I think V “ ‘ I’m from Jones,’ sez I, ‘ but— ’ “ ‘ Wall, sir,’ sez he, 4 1 want your flu enee for somethin’ or other—l don’t know what now.’ “ ‘I don’t know as I has any fluence,’ sez I; ‘efl have, it’s at yer sarvice.’ “ 1 \ ery well; thankee, sir,’ srz he, as he tipped his slick hat and pitched off 1 turned round, and tliar war Dr. Fields, most er killin’ himself er lafiiti’. The Dr. war our member that year. ‘“What in the world is yer lafTiu’ at, Doctor V sez I. ‘“That fellow thought you was a member of the Lpgislutur, ’ sez he. “ 1 saw through the whole affair, but I know'd it war no use to let on; so sez I, 4 1 thought 1 looked like a man of more sense than to be in the Legislatur.’ “The Doctor looked red a little, and walked off. “ Birneby 1 w ent up to the State House, and a right putty buildin’ it is, too; and I think could compar with most of the State I louses that people brag so much about.” “Have you ever seen the State House in Montgomery ?” asked Spikes, who was an Alabamian by birth. “ I have that,” said Uncle Ben ; “ and I’ll tell yc all, boys, about that trip too, sometime or other. “ But I think, to tell the truth, our halls are most too small for the number of persons that has a right to set in ’em. But thar ar one consolation : it is only a few that claims thar rights often in that respect. *• Arter setten down up thar till we gos tired, me and Jitn Lane concluded we would walk back down town, and see what war goin’ on. They were firin’ a cannon out in the sqtiar. Now Jim had never seen a cannon. As we cum to wards whar the crowd was, Jim jumped back, and sez he— “ 4 Lordy ! they is gwine to shoot right towards us!’ “ I looked, and I seed they were pint ; in’ it risht at us; but I know’d thar war no load in the gun, but 1 wanted to give Jim a skeer for bein’ sieh a fool, j ‘“Don’t shoot!’ sez I. “ 4 For the love of heaven, don’t!’ sez Jim, as he commenced dodgin’. “ Ker-bumb went the old cannon. I I turned round, and thar war Jim lyin’ ’ and twistin’ on the grass. 44 ‘Jim, what in the y earth is the mat ter ? Git up, and less go down town.’ “‘Oh, my poor stummic!’ sez he, as he rolled down on the ground. Why, what’s the matter with yer stummic?’ sez I. 4 Uncle Ben, I’m shot right through the belly!’ “ Shot V sez I; ‘ the thing warn’t load ed.’ “ 1 Warn’t it V sez Jim; and he jump ed right straight up, and lookin’ round, sez he, 4 That rock war hurtin’ me,’ and, sure enough, that fool had been lyin and i twistin’ on a little rock, sharp enough to cut him in two, and he so skeered that he thought that he was shot. “Jim looked mighty sheepish, and the crowd laughed until we got past the f steps. ) “Sez Ito Jim: ‘We won't go whar r [ thar is any more cannons, leastways | whar thar is any rocks to hurt your poor > stummic.’ “‘Uncle Ben,’sez Jim,‘ef you will ■ jess lie low and keep dark about ..his, i I'll stand treat six times hand-gwine.’ “‘ Agreed,’ sez I ; and got tight that night on Jim’s expenses; but when I got home, I couldn’t help from tollin’ It on him. Jim got powerful mad, and aint forgive me till this day.” As soon as Uncle finished his adven tures in Miliedgeville, Charley got up ar.d slipped out. After he lefr, the glasses were filled very frequently, especially Uncle Ben’s and Stubbs’. Spikes drank but little; I none—a circumstance that may be accounted creditable in other cir cles, but was certainly not so accounted in that. After a while, I proposed that we should tell more tales to pass away time. This was agreed to by all ex cent Spikes, who was rather timid, and was somewhat afraid of ghost-tales. Uncle Ben and Stubbs were fairly corn ed ; the potations had begun to enliven the duil brain of Spikes ; Ned had just put in more chestnuts, when 1 began the following story: * “Iu the year eighteen hundred and fifty, a gentleman was travelling in the northern part of Tennessee, when night overtook him. He was a stranger in the country, and was soon lost. A storm had been presaging for some time, and the clouds completely obscuied the fight that the moon and stars would have given. The rain soon poured in torrents, and then the pealing thunder rolled through the dismal heavens, and the forked lightning quivered in fantastic figures. It was indeed a terrible night to be lost in. But still the stranger wandered on, in hopes of finding some refuse from the storm. He had wan dered about an hour, when he found an old and dilapidated church, surrounded by a grave-yard. Dismounting, he led his horse to as good a shelter as lie could find, and then entered the old building, intending to slay ‘here until morning, or until the storm was over, lie had not been in the old building above ten min utes, when to his surprise he beheld a light glimmering in the farther end f the church. He was not more easily fright ened than most of men, and he started to ascertain the cause of this curious intru sion ; when, judge of his surprise and consternation, as a figure issued from the corner, pale and ghastly, clad in the ha biliments of the grave. The gentleman was no believer in ghosts or goblins, and stood his ground and watched the ghast ly figure to see what she would do, (he could discern her sex by her counte nance.) After ascending the pulpit, she set her light down and opened the lids of the old. Bible. She then commenced making gestures as if going through a discourse. She seemed excited, and her gestures became wild and vehement, but not a word all the time escaped her pale and bloodless lips. “The stranger had watched these pro ceedings wiih feelings difficult, to de scribe. Convinced of what he before had doubted, his firm heart gave way, | and he turned to fly. With a shriek | wild and unearthly she bounded afier him ; he sprang through the half-opened door, but scarcely had he reached the ground when she grasped him by the | hair.” JUght here (he door was partly open ed, and a head was thrust in, with glar ing eyes, with burning cheeks, and fangs that would have done honor to Pluto’s ghastliest imps. “ Oh, Lordy !” said Tom Spikes, as he went over backwards in his chair. Ned went under the bed, w ith a veil in which a shriek and a growl seemed strangely mixed. “ Why, what’s the matter?” asked Uncle Ben and S'ubbs, in the same breath, neither of whom had seen the ap parition. I being in the secret, of course kept silent. Spikes was relating what he had seen, while Ned was turning his pocket wrong side outwards. “ Why, Tommy, you and Ned got skeered at Billy’s ghost-tale! Take a little of this ’ere—” Here Lucie Ben was interrupted by three ponderous knocks at the door. “Thar he is agin,” said Ned, poking his head from under the bed. “ Go ar.d open that door, Ned !” said * Uncle Ben. Ned’s head suddenly disappeared. “ Go and open it, Tommy !” “ Not for a thousand dollars!” said ___________ * I do not claim the ghost-tale as original. I | heard it, iu my college days, told by a young friend- Whether it was true, or a mere crea * linn of hi* fkacy, Jmb unable to aay. Spikes, backing up in a corner. “ I say, Stubbs—my son of thunder!” said Uncle Ben, shaking the drowsy stu dent of law ; “ thar is a spirrit at the door, and we want you to open it; will you? Spikes, Fields and Ned are all sc.trcd to death.” “Afraid ? ‘ I’d rather be a dog and bay the moon, than such a Roman.’ ” “There’s the kind er talk, Johnny,” said Uncle Ben. “Open it, Johnny; we aint skeered, are we ?” as Stubbs stag gered towards the door. He opened it boldly, peeped forth, then sprang back wards with— “By the internals !” . “What is it, Johnny?” asked Uncle Ben, who had now got up, and was steadying himself by the bed-post. Here, a tall white figure, with the head before described, advanced through the door, and walked to the middle of the room. “Solomon and Gomorrah!” said Un de Ben, as he let loose his po*t and sat down heavily on the 11 tor. “Great God !” said Spikes. “ Our merciful fa'her !” said Ned, as he again disappeared under the bed. “ Avaunt, and quit my sight !” said Stubbs, reeling in the attempt to get down an old nfls that hung on the wall. But. the ghostly figure said not a word, turned slowly and disappeared through the door which he had entered. “ Hold!” said the drunken Stubbs. “Tell me thou, who canst not rest in peace in the gloomy grave, why dost thou vfiit the abode of the living ? Dost seek for justice—for foul and deadly wrong done to thee in thy days of na ture? Know that lam an expounder and an advocate of the law. Speak, and I will plead thy cause. Speak, though you seek, like Shy lock sought, the pound of flesh!” “Hush, Johnny, hush!” said Uncle Ben. “Don’t, Stubbs, don’t!” said the faint-hearted Spikes. “ Less follow 7 him, boys, and see where he burrows,” said I. This was strongly protested against by Spikes But after much persuasion by me and exhortation by Stubbs, the crowd agreed to sally forth in quest of th? strange intruder. Uncle Ben placed Ned first, much against his inclination. He followed Ned. armed with the poker. ] was next, Stubbs next, and Spikes brought up the rear. We had just arranged our forces, when the door flew 7 open, and in again rushed the spectre. Ned screamed and fled, Spikes follow ed suit, l ncle Ben was upset in Ned’s haste, and 1 fell over him, arid Stubbs fell over me. The ghost sprung on top of us all. There was a scramble; I heard a groan from Uncle Ben, and a curse from Stubbs, and then a laugh.— The sheet had given way, the light in the pumpkin went out, and there lay Charley kicking and squalling, with Un cle Ben on top of him. “Was it you, arter all, Charley?” asked Uncle Ben, as he picked himself up. “ Nobody else,” said Charley. “ I and Billy arranged it all before supper.” Spikes and Ned were at last persuaded to come back, and wc were again seated around the fire, when 1 thus concluded my tale: “ The gentleman being very strong, turned upon his assailant, threw her down, and bound her tightly with his handkerchief. The next morning it was found that she was an escaped lunatic from a neighboring asylum.” JMtauTlnmj, Hetman Magnetism. “ Do you believe in such nonsense as that?” some Mr. Slow may ask. We can say to such, Good friend, it has got beyond mere belief—it is now a confirm ed fact. Do you see that limb?—tis a well enough member now, but a week ago it was inflamed and'angry and pain ful, till a man came and placed his hand upon it and his manipulations freed it from pain as a good wife might free a skein of silk that had become snarled. Do you remember the man that was re stored to sight, who said that he did not know how it was done, but that he had been blind and now he saw ? We know as little about this mysterious power that wrought this small miracle in our own ease, content in the glad conscious ness of restored health, that it is so.— The world is full of such cases as this, and this magnetism enters into every, thing in life. Why i3 t that one man’s touch upon the shoulder—always except ing the Sherifi’s—should give one a cold chill, while another should give him a glow like a cordial ? The secret of at traction and repulsion lies in this—the magnetism must mingle. We have heard people say, regarding a Physician, that his entering their room did them good. It seems hyperbolical, but it was undoubtedly the case. So of clergymen. Though one talk with the tongue of men and angels, intellectually. unless it be commended with a spirit of magnetic sympathy 7 , all is for nothing.— ; For ourselves, in the depth of a sorrow \ as deep as man may know, the opened door that revealed the smile of one that ; seemed heaven-sent, made sadness a jov. j and with no expression beyond the look that gave full assurance of heartfelt syra- | pathy, grHf assumed anew guise and j submission became a willing offering.— j Enter a street where one may chance to meet such a man, and his presence may he felt in it. Some men become god like, and almost work miracles in our midst. Here they by little more than j raising a finger, still the waves of strife ; here by a look shed sunshine where be- j tore there was darkness; here by a j word sustain the struggling and lift up i the desponding. There is, by some, a merit imputed to j this magnetic quality that extends even > to the compounding of medicines, the * making of bread or the sowing of seed, ; remembering that there may be bad magnetism as well as good, and that the i quality one deals in has its peculiar in- : fluence. This may explain many of the ! phenomena of luck, where, under what 1 appear to be the same circumstances, dif ferent results attend upon different par- j ties, beginning with Cain and Abel and i ending with the experience of to-day, where, with many, everything turns to gold in the form of success, and with . many the opposite. This little chapter i may give another argument against fa-1 talism. that some are disposed to believe in.— B. P. Shillaber. Over the Kiver. Over the river they beckon to me. [sido, Lov’d ones who’ve crossed to the further The gleam of their snowy 7 robes I see, But their voices are lost iu the dashing tide. There’s one with ringlets of sunny gold, And eyes th e reflect L > nos hea v’n’sown blue —He crossed in twilight,.gray and cold. And a jiale mist hid him from mortal view; We sawuotthe angels who met him there— The gates of the city we could not see— Over the river, over the river, My brother stands waiting to welcome me. Over the river the boatman pale, Carried another—the household pet; Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale— Darling Minnie! I see her yet. She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands. And fearlessly entered the phantom bark: We felt it glide from the silver sands, And all our sunshine grew strangely dark: We know she is safe on the further side— Where all the ransomed angels be— Over the river, the mystic river, My childhood’s idol is waiting for me. For none return from those quiet shores, Wliocro-s with the boatman cold and pale; We hear the dip of the golden oars, And catch a gleam of the snowy sail, Audio! thev have past from our yearning hearts, They cross the stream and are gone for aye, We may not sunder the veil apart That hides from our vision the gate* of day; We only know that their barks no more May sail with us o’er life’s stormy sea; Y etsomewhere, I know,on tliatuuscen shore They watch, and beckon, and wait for tne. And I sit ami think, when the sunset’s gold Is flushing river and hill and shore, 1 shall one day stand by the water co'.J, And list for the sound of the boatman’? oar; I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail, 1 shall hear the boat as it gains the strand, I shall pass from sight with tho boatman pale, To the hotter shore of the spirit land. T shall know tho loved who have gone before, And joyfully su cot will the meeting he, When over the river, the peaceful river, The Angel of Death shall carry me. A Tisuid Lover Jlarlp o Spoak. “What a dreadful situation for a young girl to find herself in ! Perfectly willing to be rna ried, and with a dear, kind father equally anxious for her to eiter the glorious state of matrimony, which would crown her with a halo of felicity, and not a lover to be met with! ” Thus soliloquised a young girl of fif teen, as she sat looking over the wide domains of her father's chateau, apart from the world of Paris, and oh! most strange to add, in a part of the country as yet virgin of anything like a railroad. All this sort of reverie is delicious—all those dreams of the halo of felicity crowning marriage are beautiful at fif teen, hat a few years later, and how very like a crown of thurns the halo looks. Jenny d’Herbecnurt was much to be pitied. There was no inexorable father, no cruel guardian, noth ng was wanting to complete her felicity but a mere trifle —the man, and the man sorely puzzled the young lady’s brains. Where was he to be found in that isolated spot, only visited by a lumbering diligence? The good father was going to be mar ried again to a cousin of her own, one x\giae, a nice, good creature, and she, too, was anxious for Jenny to lnarrv. — Was ever anything so p-ovoking as all these consents, without the assent of some dear unknown ? Aglae was stay ing at the chateau, and hard indeed must be the heart which would not feel lor Jenny, when she beheld the charming trousseau of her future stepmuther ar rive. ‘Someone shall appear,’sighed Jen ny, after a conversation with her cousin Aglae, the soit of one to inflame a girl’s head, if not her heart—all about laces and cashmeres, orange flowers, &<•., &c. Most unfortunately, there was not a young man in the neighborhood ‘fiee and able,’ (Jenny reserved to herself to make him • willing,’) until—oh, blessings on minds given to speculate!—a compa ny sent down a young engineer to sur vey the land, and, discovering who he was, he i:isist*d upon his leaving his hotel, and taking up his abode at the j chateau. A month had he been domiciled there, and assuredly if he was a first class en gineer, he was a third-class galjant. lie did’nt seem to know that there was a young girl within miles of him, his heart j was hard as the rails he was about to • have laid down, and ail this coldness ; made the iron enter into Jenny’s soul.— i Ail the day long he was making calcula tions, while she was speculating about him. One day she pretended to faint. Gus tave flew to the lescue; he was forced to !o<>k in her face, and discovertd that | she was charming, fresh bright as tho land before h ; s horrid railroad cut it up. Still he w'ent on with parchments.— So Jenny went into his office, and car ried off his instruments. &e., and locked them up. In vain he implored. ‘You are looking very ill,’ she said, ‘ and I shall insist upon your only work- | ing so many hours a day.’ Again he looked in the face of the one so anxious about him. and yielded. She kept the key of his office. i This left him several hours a day un • disposed of. What could lie do with ; them ? Jenny solved the difficulty, and together they surveyed the surrounding I country and its beautiful walks, as yet ; not cut, up. One day the engineer forgot all the 1 plans he had laid down on his own road of action—not to fall in love with Jenny, j not to be led into a path which he imag i ined would be, perhaps, harder to cut through than a rock. If it were but that! Half our lines run through the , like, but no felt that her father would be harder than any granite, and'Jenny did not like, in maiden modesty, to tell him that she knew better. So tli’ to her step mother she sped. ‘Gustave loves me,’ she cried. ‘ But would you believe it of a Parisian ? lie is timid!’ Something must bo done to overcome that. So agreed her stepmother, but a girl like herself. ‘ I have thought of something, Aglae,’ said Jenny at last. ‘Stay in the next 1 room; cali papa there on some excuse. Gustave is certain to follow me hither— leave the rest to me.’ ‘ But it will be a snare,’ exclaimed the other. ‘ One with which he will gladly be taken, believe me,’ answered the wide awake young lady. ‘ And if ’tis for his happiness ?’ ‘True, I*overlooked that.’ So Jenny remained alone, and soon, as she had foreseen, the wandering en gineer, without the aid of his compass, discovered the clod of earth called d’ller becourt. ‘ 1 want the key of my office, made moiselle,’ he said; ‘ 1 must work.’ 1 i want you to oblige me first, Mon sieur Gustave.’ ‘ Willingly, mademoiselle.’ ‘ \ou see,’ continued Jenny, ‘ 1 am to play a p irt next week in a charade.— Will you rehearse it with me V 1 i do not know it, but command me. I will do my best.’ ‘ A young man is to make a declara love. )ou must play that part.’ ‘Too r.illiugly would 1 ; but how in the cliarade ?’ ‘ Go down on your knees.’ [He does it.] 4 Now grasp my hand.’ [Fondly pressed.] • Excellent! Now attempt to kiss it. But I must draw it away.’ [Accomplished to the letter.] ‘ Oh, charming !’ cried the young lady, clapping her hands, and, at the signal, in rushed Aglae, followed by the uncon scious fattier. Gustave sprang to his feet, ar.d in the utmost confusion, assured the indignant parent that it was only an ‘innocent juke! Agiae ar.d Jenny had fled, but they were listening. At the word ‘joke,’ Monsieur d’ller becourt flew into a violent passion, and to prove how liuie our theory and prac tice ever agree, he, who had written a pamphlet against duelling, challenged Gustave. At the idea of fighting, the ladies thought it time to interpose. Aglae fol lowed Monsieur d’Herbccourt, who had quitted the room to prepare his arms, and Jenny rushing in, loudly upbraided Gustave with wishing to kill her papa. ‘Do uot alarm yourself, mademoi selle, he said ; ‘ 1 will not raise an arm against your father—he may kill me.’ As if that was her purpo.-e In this lit tle scheme ! Os what earthly ue would a dead lover be ? She who had had so much difficulty in discovering this living one. ‘A pretty expedient!’ she cried; ‘ as if there were not another way of arrang ing the aflair.’ 4 1 see but one,’ responded the engin eer, ‘ one that would fill my heart with joy, but I dare scarcely name it, for Tear of dLpbasii g you.’ ‘Never mind—name it.’ ‘ To solicit your hand in marriage.’ •‘Oh, that does not displease me at all,’ she exclaimed. ‘ ’Tis far better than killing, or being killed. Go and ask para.’ At that moment d’Herbecourt entered with an ominous looking case of pistols under his arm; he was frowning in a most determined fashion. Aglae was following bis footsteps, and without a w ord spoken she opened the case, and showed him his pamphlet against duel ing, which she had placed m the case in lieu of the abstracted pistols. The blood thirsty d’Herbeeourt lo ked rather con fused, and here Gustave stepped forward and solicited the honor of Jenny’s hand in marriage. D llerbecourt, delighted with a son in-law whom he already esteemed, glad ly grasped his hand, and that evening,; as Jenny sat al her window looking at the moon, as all young ladies in love do, she said to herself, smiling complacently, ‘When a young girl wills the rest was concluded by a significant nod of the head. Morphy is still the lion in Paris. IMi Q>. S3L. O, Ski ing to uif a Uuldcu Pen! 1!Y LIT. LI AN’ ST. CLAIR. Oh, bring to me a golden pen Os pure Australian ere, With a diamond point from Brazilian miDo- I would trace in foil and g‘owing linos A tale of beautiful lore. 1 would tell of spirits bright that come To us in the “stillv night.’’ When the eauh is wrapt in sweet repose. And the zephyrs fan the cheek of the rose, And ti)3 stars are twinkling bright. T would tell how their soft hands soothe The pain in the aching head ; T would toll of their never-failing love. Os their ministry from the world above, That land where liveth the dead. How they tune with jov their golden harps, \\ hen a soul to them is given, How they sing a glad and joyous strain. For the soul that is loosed from grief and pain And born again—into Heaven! fsirioux Prayer. In the State of Ohio, there resided a family consisting of an old man by the name of Beaver, and his three sons, all f whom were hard “pets,” who had of ten laughed to scorn the advice and en treaties of a pious, though very eccentric* minister, who resided in the same town, it happened one of the boys was bitten by a rattle-snake, and was expected to die, when the minister was sent for in great ha-te. .On his arrival he found the young man very penitent and anxious‘to be< prayed with. The minister, calling out the family, knelt down and prayed m this wise: “ Oh! Lord, we thank Thee for rattle*, snases* we thank The l * because a rattle snake has bit him. We pray Thee send a rattlesnake to bite John ; send one to bite Bill; send one to bite Sam; and, Oh. Lord send the biggest kind of a rattle snake to bite the old man, for noth ing but rattlesnakes will ever bring the Beaver family to repentance.” — A Boy’s Joke. No class in the community have to tear the expense of more jokes and “good ones,” than railroad conductors. The Buffalo Ex press is responsible for tbs following, related of one who onoe belonged to the profession, and who is known in that locality; One of the cleverest fellows in the world is J . Good humor lurks in every fea ture of his broad, joviaUooking countenance. When be laughs, it commences somewhere in the region of his wai3t, and it creeps up ward, sh iking his sides, till i; gets into hi3 face, where it draws a thousand wrinkles and Sets thptn to dancing an 1 twitching about so funnily that his eyes fairly close them selves, unable to endure the sight. T was a railroad conductor once, and held the position a good many years, during which time he made a host of friends and a snug little p.le of money. J- has a con, a bright-eyed little boy. of not quite a dozen summers; a regular chip of the old block, aud, to use an expression more familiar than elegant, “as smart as a steel trap.” This little rogue his father sometimes takes to the theater, where he sits and criticises the performance with as much gravity and more discretion than half the professional critics. Os course, the boy likes to go, ana naturally enough feels an inclina tion that way occasionally when his father is not disposed to indulge him. So one even ing he walked into the box office and very coolly asked F , who then reigned a3 Treasurer, for a pass to the theater. As ev ery body knows, F loves his jokes ; so he set ifimaelf out to quiz the little fellow. “I can’t afford to give you a pas?,’’ said he. “Your father is rich enough to buy you a ticket,” “No he isn't,” replied the boy, “he has paid oat all his money lately.” “What for?” “Ob, he has just bought an elevator.” ‘•lndeed,’’ said F , “and how much did he pay for it?” “A hundred thousand dollar?,” responded the boy. “Why, where did he cetso much money?” “Saved it oa the railroad, to be sure.” “You don’t mean to say your father saved a hundred thousand dollars at railroading?” cried F . “Os course be did,” said the boy very pos itively ; “I should think he might— he was conductor fifteen years!” F gave him a pass without any fur ther question, thinking the joke on the fa ther cheap at the price. He bided his time and when he caught J with an audience “fit though few,” he turned the conversation on chiliiten. Now J brags on his boy, andat thefirst opportunity commenced telling of his smart sayings, and oilier qualifications. Then F told his story, and when the laugh came in, no one enjoyed it more than did J himsell. He frequently hears of that hundred thousand dollars. INTERESTING TO NEWSPAPER PIIGPRIETOr.3. —One of the courts of the State of Indiana, recently made a decision, which is of inter est to all news paper proprietors throughout the L nion. A controversy existed relative to the charge for advertising between the Commissioners of Hamilton county and Pa triot newspaper. It was held by the Judge that “the published terms of newspapers constitute a contract. If work is given to newspaper publishers without a special con tract contravening the pubiished terms, the publisher can charge and receive according to the terms so published. It is not neces sary to prove what iho work cost, or was worth : the publishers have a right to fix the estimate value ol their columns, and if so fixed, no other question need be asked, but the price thus charged can bo recov ered.”