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$ 200 ILR ANNUM professional Carta. JOHN S. CARROLL, D e N VIST COVINGTON, GEORGIA. Teeth Filled, or New Teeth Inserted,ln best Style, and on Reasonable Term* Itllce Reitr of R. King 8 Store. 1 ltt J A MRS M . LEVY, Matchmaker & Jeweler, East side of the Square, .OVINGTOS, U BORGIA, .. | le is prepared to Repair Watches, Clocks Ld Jewelry in the best style. Particular atten |«n given to repairing Watches injured by in •mpetent workmen. All work warranted. DRS. DEARIMG & PRSNCLE HAVING associated themselves in the Prac tice of MEDICINE and SURGERY, offer professional services to the citizens of • vton county. They have opened nn oth eon e East side of the Square, (next, door to Sv bwald's store,) and are prepared to attend to I calls promptly. They have also a carefully lected assortment of the ery Best Medicines, and will give their personal attention to Com unding Prescriptions, for Physicians and h*r*. «eial attention given to Chronic Diseases At night Dr. Deakinu will be found at his lidrnce, and Dr. Pringle at his rooms imme atelv over the Store of O. 11. San ours & Bro ay 16, 25tf To S E P H Y. TINSLEY, Matchmaker & Jeweler Is fully prepared to Repair Watches, Clocks id Jewelry, in the best Style, nt short notice, II Work Hone at Old Prices, and Warranted. 2d door below the Court House.—6tf ADDLE AND HARNESS SHOP. i- A I would respectfully inform the citizens of Newton, and adjoining counties, that I have opened a SADDLE and HARNESS SHOP Innorth side public square in COVINGTON, there I am prepared to make to ord> r. Harness fcddles, ,tc, or Repair the same at short notice I in the best style. k t ( JAMES B. BROWN I 11. T. HEIR Y, DEM ■s* X S3 TANARUS, COVINGTON, GEORGIA. Ly| —, HAS REDUCED HIS PRICES, so that all who h ive been so unfort u- nate ns to lose their natural Teeth Ln have their places supplied by Ait, at v.ry Lull cost. Teeth Filled at rcas mabl ■ prices, Bid work faithfully executed, Cliiee north side ■ Squate. —l -’2tf I fire hsikawe iaim/* Ittk represent two FIRST CLASS Fire In m\ surnnee Companies, fThe Southejn Mutual Os Athene, Geirgia, and rh© Georgia Home, of Columbus, Ge r rgia, Impsnies which have no Superi “s. and very Is pquals, in the essentia » of gold manage Knt. and good faith. We are prepared to take, Kl invite the usual risks at fair r.-itrfi. ■>[ p ACEi ANDERSON & PACE. ■. P. Andf.bson. Bm2 lEW WARS MOUSE Flßii. t W. DOUGHTY, (who, tor iwentv-four Wj , years prior t.o 1865, was actively engage* ■ the Cotton Factorage and Commission bun- Iss) ami WILBKRF'ORI'K DANIEI, (late of |e firm of H. F. Bnss-ll k 0..) have entered ■to CoraKTNßnsnip, uii*ler the firm of I E. W. DOUGHTY, & CO., Id offer their services to tin ir'friendsjand the Biblic as BOTTOM FACTORS AND I Commission Merchants. ■ Their office and storage are in ’he well known ■kl commodious warehouse buildings former \ ftcupied by Bustin <fc Walker, on Mclntosh Beet. She charge for selli g Cotton wi lbe ONE RILAR a Bale for all customers. ■ Patties who have Cotton In store, and desire Basonnble advances in cash will be accommo- R. W. DOUGHTY. WILBER FORCE DANIEL, ■gusto, Oa., September 1, lßt>B,—lm39 ME PREB3IU&! OTTER DRAWER. KcaJ. M. R. MARKS of Georgia, has pur ■l chased the right for this most valuable Saving Machine. The best Machine foi ■wing water from an ordinary well, with and Windlass. Simple, durable, and cheap Hny child of six years can draw it. It emp ■ itself by tilting, and can be applied to any ■l. We take pleasure in recommending it, to He has County and State Rights for ■, and any business man can certainly make out of it. Address ■l3 Maj. M. R. MARKS, Atlanta, Gft I. C. COURTNEY, & CO., F ACTOR S AND COMMISSION MERCHANTS, MBb, Boyce’s Wharf, Charleston, S. C. COURTNEY, ROBT. MURDOCK, JAB. S. MIIRDOOK CEO. J. HOWARD, (IpOCER AND COMMISSION MERChANT Marietta street, Georgia. for all descriptions of Groceries filed Market Prices. of Country Produce solicited make returns promptly.— aniso J Ceorgia Railroad ■Bakfast and Dinner House, I At Berzelia. Ga., ■IRSONS leaving Augusta by the 7 o’clock ■Passenger (Morning) Train, Breakfast at All persons lAiviug Atlanta by the 5 ■ink (Morning) Train, Dine at Berzelia, Per ■ leaving by the Freight Trains can always ■rood meals. Tables always provided with the market affords, E. NEBIFUT, Prop’r TUB GEORGIA ENTERPRISE. DR. O. S. PII OP H I TT, Covington Georgia. Will still continue hi* business, where he intends keeping on hand a good supply of Drugs, Medicines, Paints, Oils, Dye Stuffs, Together with a Lot of Botanic Nledicines, l\< eentrated Preparations, Fluid Extracts, Ac. He is also putting tip his Liver Medlcinos, FEMALE TONIC, ANODYNE PAIN KILL IT Vermifuge, Antl-Bfiieus I’ills, and n*nny otliev preparations, Will give prompt attention to nil orilers PARTItTIL,4R NOTICE. Hereafter NO MEDICINE WILL BE DELIV BRED, or SERVICE RENDERED, except for ®"0 -A. E3 XX I'SSffl You nee not call unless you are prepared to PAY CASH, for I will not Keep Books. Oct. 11 1867. O. S. rnOPHITT. Rail Road Schedules. Georgia Railroad. E. W. COLE, General Superintendent. f if)AY Passenger Thai* (Sundays except oil,) leaves Augusta nt 7 am; leave Atlanta nt 5 a in; ar rive nt Augusta at 3.45 p m ; arriveat Atlanta at 6.30 NlonT Passenger Train leaves Augusta at 10 p.m ; leaves Atlanta nt 5.40 p in ; arrive* at Augusta nt 3 00 a m ; arrives at Atlanta at 7.45 a in. Passengers for Milledgevllle, Washington and Athens, Ga., must take the day passenger train from Augusta and Atlanta, or intermediate points. Passengers for West Point, Montgomery, Selma, and intermediate points, can take either train, l'or Mobile, and New Orleans,-must leave Augusta on Night Passenger Train, at 10 p. m. Passengers for Nashville, Corintli, Grand .(unc tion, Memphis, Louisville, and Bt. Louis, can take either train and make close connexions. Through Tickets and baggage cheeked through to the above places. Sleeping ears on all night pas senger trains. MACON A AUGUSTA RAILROAD. E. W. COLE, Gen’l Snp’t. Leave Camnk daily at 12.40 r m.: arrive at NO Hedge ville at 4.30 p. M.: leave Milledgevllle at 0.45 a.m.; arrive at Camak at 10.15 a. m. Passengers leaving any point on the Georgia l(. R hv Dnv Passenger train, w. ill make close eol’nee tion at Camak for VilledgevlUe, Fatonton, and all intermediate points «>n t !io Macon Augusta road, and for Macon. Passengers leaving Milledgevllle at 6.45 A. M., reach Atlanta and Augusta the same day. SOUTH CAROLINA RAILROAD. 11. T. Peaks. Ge neral Sup’t. Special mail train, going North, leaves Augusta at 3.55 a m. arrives at Kingsville at 11.15 a m ; leaves Kingsville nt 12.05 p m, arrives at Augusta at 7.2 > p. m. Tills train is designed especially for through travel. The train for Charleston leaves Augusta at R am, and arrives at Charleston nt3.9 p nt ; leaves Charles ton at 8 a in, and arrives at Augusta at 5 p m. Niglit special freight and exnress train leaves Au gusta (Sundays excepted' at 3.50 )> m, and arrives nt Charleston at 4.30 a m ; leaves Charleston at 7.30 j. m, and arrives at Augusta at 0.45 a in. WESTERN At ATLANTA R. R Col. E. llulbert. General < 'iir>erinten<lent. Daily passenger train, except Sunday, leaves At lanta at 8.15 a in, and arrives at Chattanooga at 1.45 p m ; leaves Chattanooga at 4.40 a in, and arrives at Atlanta at 2pm. express passemre** tnun leaves Atlanta at n.45 p m, and arrives at Chattanooga at 4.10 a m : leaves Chattanooga at 5.50 p m, and arrives at Atlanta at 8.85 a m. MACON <fc WESTERN RAILROAD. E. B. Wai.kfr. Gen’l Sup’t. Day passenger train leaves Mneon at 7.45 a in, and arrives nt Atlanta at 2 p m ; leaves Atlanta at 8.15 n. and arrives at Macon at 1.30 p in. Night passenger train leaves Atlanta nt 8.10 p in, and arrives at Macon at 4.25 a m ; leaves Macon at 8.30 p m, and arrives at Atlanta nt 4.30 a tn. lintels. PLANTERS HOTEL. JGt T BTA. GEORGIA. furnished and refitted, unsurpassed by LY any Hotel South, is now open to the Public. T. S. NICKERSON, Prop’r. I,nte of Mills nouse, Charleston, and Proprietor of Nickerson’s Hotel, Columbia, S. C. United States Hotel. ATLANTA GEORGIA WHITAKER A SASSEEN, Proprietors. Within One Hundred Yards ot the General Pnsscn ger Depot, corner Alabama and Prior streets, a m e r i c an mote lT Alabama street., ATLANTA, GEORGIA, Nearest, house to the Passenger Depet. W’HITE A WHITLOCK, Pro ictors. W. D. AYititv, Clerk. Having re-leased and renovated ie above Hotel, we are prepared t.o entertain m sis in a most satisfactory manner. Oharg j fair an.i moderate. Our efforts will be to .case. Baggage carried to aud from Depot .roe of charge FAR E REDUCED AUGUSTA HOT E.L. rpillS FIRST CLASS HOTEL is situated nt A Broad Street, Central to the business por tion of the City, and convenient to the Tele graph and Express Offices. The Hou>-e is large and commodious, and has been renovated and newly painted from garret to cellar, and the bedding nearlv all new since the war. The rooms are large and airy ; clean beds, and the fare as good as the country affords, and atti n tive and polite servants Chassis. —Two Dollars per day. Single Meals 75 Cents. Ii ope to merit a liberal share of patronage ftom the traveling public. Give ine a trial and judge for vonrselves S. M. J< >N ES, Prop’r. WNI. H. GOODRICH , SASH, BLINDS, AfJD SCOBS, On hand, and ma le to Order, Augusta 386. ii Georgia COVINGTON. GA., JAN. 22, 1800. Cross Hint Crown There i* a cross of heavy weight For every human life to bear, There is a chaplet formed of thorns, For each and every brow to wear ; Oh ! when the cross of pain and woo Shull soon forever he laid down, May we receive, in recoinpen.se A beautiful and fadeless crown. A cross of toil and worldly grief, A burden of suspense and eare, lias life imposed upon us all And each its heavy load must bear ; The clouds may lower overhead. The bright stars fade beforo our eyes, Yet Faith shall point us out the path Where sacrifice, where duty lies. A crown awaits each faithful heart, Each earnest, self-denying soul, That carries cheerfully the cross To death’s cold unrelenting goal ; And when the veil shall roll away, Disclosing heaven’s endless bliss, The crown of love shall compensate The cross of such a life as this. Vacant Places. How much soever in this life’s mutations Wc seek our shattered idols to replace, Not one in all the myriads of the nations Can ever fill another’s vacant place. Each has bis own, the smallest and most humble, As well as he revered the w ide world through ; With every death some loves and hopes must crumble Which never strive to build themselves anew. If the fair race of violets should perish Before another spring time has its birth, Could all thu costly blooms which florists cherish. Bring back its April boauty to the earth ? Not the most gorgeous flower that uncloses Could give the olden grace to vale and plain Not even Persia’s garden full of roses Could ever make the world so fair again. And so with souls we love; they pass and leave us ; Time teaches patience at a bitter cost; Yet ail the new loves which the years may give lIS Fill not tlie heart-place aching fur the lost. New frieods may come to us with spirits rarer, Ami kindle once again the tear drowned flame, But yet v e sigh, ‘"This love is stronger, fairer, And better, it may be-—hut not the same!’’ j [Frum “Saturday Night.] A Pleasant Companion. UV JOHN n. it II.I.IAHS, M. D. Perhaps there was never place better tamed than that of the Sea Breeze Hotel >u tape Mav. it directly fronts the ocean, and the surf breaks at the very foot of it. No matter how hot he lav' may be, there is always a breeze to be fell there ; the eomoquence is that, the magnificent balcony Tur ning round it is a place of general resort for ill the vh'. tors on the island. It is the acme of lazy en joyment on a hot Minilnei 's morning to recline in one of the spacious arm chairs always (o ho found on the balcony, and listen to the eternal murmur of the sea, or to watch the bathers disporting in the waves. Last summer I was accustomed, immediately after breakfast, to leave my hotel and stroll down to this place of general rendezvous, with my book for my companion, and would pass several hours in genuine dolce far nienle style. One August morning I took possession of m3' favorite chair at the south-eastern angle of the building, in which situation I could command, not only a front view of the Atlan tic ocean, but also see ships sailing up the Delaware, looking exactly as if they were gliding over dry land. It was a lovely day, and n cool breeze from the ocean tempered the atmosphere deliciously. It was high tide, and the waves seemed to break at my very feet. I closed my book, for the attractions of the scone were even superior to Willie Col lins’ genius, as displayed in “Tho Moonstone.” “A lovely scene, this,” said a voice at my elbow. I turned round and found an old gray headed gentleman seated in the chair next to mine. He possessed one of those intelligent, amiable faces, so attractive in oldjpeople. I replied politely to his remark, and we en tered into conversation together, llis coun tenance did not helie him, for I found him well read, and possessed of a superior mind. “How calm and placid the sea is this morn ing,” said he, after wo had been conversing together some half hour. “Yes, but it is a deceptive monster, and has been the cause of more human suffering than anything else in the world,” was my reply. “I doubt whether the human anguish caused bv the sea has ever been equaled by anything on land.” “How do you mean?” asked my new friend. “I mean I doubt whether such scenes ns those depicted in “Foul Play,” or in Falconer or By ron'B description of a shipwreck, have ever found their equal on tena firma. It is true these instance* arc fictitious, but they have been equalled over and over again by reality.” “1 can’t agree with you,” said the old gen tleman. “I think there are many scenes on land that fully equal anything that tho »ea can show. For instance, what can be more terrible than the feelings 'produced by an earthquake or by tire? I myself once met with an adventure on land, which for ter* ror fully equals anything told of tho oceafi.’ As may be naturally supposed, I begged the old gentleman to ndute his adventure to me, which he did in the following words : ********* In my younger days 1 followed the sea for n livelihood, having commenced at the bottom of the ladder, namely : as cabin bov. I was about twenty-four years of ago when I was mate of the ship Irene, trading between New York and Liverpool. It was w hile 1 was in this hitter town that I received a letter from home, informing me that my uncle had died, leaving me an independent fortune, so that it would not bo necessary for me to go to sea tiny mefre. Y'ou may judge that I was very anxious to get home, and it was with delight that I gave orders to weigh anchor, and we sailed out of the Mersey. The crew wo had on hoard was perhaps one of the worst that was ever shipped, for we had been short-handed at Liverpool, and sailors were in such demand that we had to put up with any ore we could get. The captain was quite ill, and scarcely able to leave bis cabin, so that really the command of the vessel fell on myself and second unite. Hugh Kerby, the second mate, was a strange man. YVhat his early history was, I have no means of knowing, but, although ho was only a very moderate sailor, he seemed to be per fect in everything else. There was no subject, whether of art, science, or literature, that he i did not appear to be quite at home in. The j men called him the walking encyclopaedia, and the name suited him admirably. I Kerby, however, was subject to paroxyisms I of anger, which, in my opinion, bordered on ; insanity. lie was also discontented with his situation as second mate, and appeared to be especially badly disposed toward me, actuated, I :ttn certain, by a feeling of pure envy. AV'e were ten days before we got out of the channel, for the wind the whole time was dead ahead, and day after day we would tee the coast of France in the morning and the Isle of Wight in the evening. The constant tacking broke down the men’s patience, and they be gan to grumble and throw r out strong hints that we ought to go into port and wait for a favorable wind. This, of course, was not to bo thought of. I tried to soothe them as well as I could, by tell ing them that once out of the channel, we would have watch and watch for the rest of the voyage. One day when about half our voyage was over, the third mate came to me aid informed me that Kerby had organized a revolt among the sailors, and they had come to the deter mination to throw me cvct board, and lie,"Ker by, was to take command of the ship, lie, the third mate, had pretended to join in the pilot, for the put pose of discovering their se>- crets, that he might warn me, to whom he was very much attached. I further learned that it had been decided that as soon as I appeared on deck Kerby wa* to walk tip to me, apparently unarmed, for the purpose of avoiding suspicion ; be was to be followed by the men, and they were to seize ine and thtow me overboard. My mind was immediately made up what to do. I knew that these men would immediately return to their duty if they were deprived of their leader. Fo I loaded two horse pistols with buck shot, determining that I would try and disable Kerby, for I did not want to kill him. looking upon him as scarcely being re sponsible for his actions, for, as I have before ■aid, I was certain lie was at least partially insane. Thus armed, I walked boldly on deck. I bad no sooner left the cabin than Hugh Kerby, followed by about two-thirds of the crew, ad vanced toward me. When lie was about three or four tcct from ine I drew iny pistols and, aiming at his arms, fired them both off togeth er. He ftll to the deck wounded and bleeding. The men stood aghast. I ordered the wounded man to bo taken be low, and then made a speech to the men. I told them that I knew all about their plot, and how they had been seduced by the crazy sec ond mate. I showed them what would have been the probable end of patch a fehemc. and bade theta go to their dnty, in which event I promised to drop the matter foicver. The men cheered me an.l obeyed, for tlio fall of their leader had allowed sober second thought to have its sway. Wo reached New York without further in cident. Kerby had nearly recovered from his wounds, but the Intent insanity which had re vealed itself in the psroxystnsjof anger to which I have alluded, now became fully de veloped. and he was sent to the State Lunatic Asylum. So much for the introduction to my story, which, however, you will find to be intimately connected with what is to follow. After settling all my business as mate of the Irene, I started for my late uncle's residence, situated near the village of Athens, at the foot of the Catskill mountains. I found a large country mansion, delight fully situated in the midst of the woods, sur rounded by splendidly kept grounds, and con taining every comfort that tho heart of man could dosire. You can imagine with what delight I looked on the beautiful place, and realized that it was tny own. Mine, who had never had five hun dred dollars all at once that I could call my own. The house was all ready for habitation, and everythingjjwent on like clock work. For several weeks 1 lived in clover. I would pass my days shooting and fishing ; but by degrees I begun to grow a little tired of my loneliness. The fact was that the house was isolated, and the village three or four miles of!'. 1 began to b>ug for human companionship. One September day I went fishing, as usual and found a tall, stately looking gentleman by tho river side, engaged in tho same sport. Wo naturally entered into conversation together, and to my great delight I found him to bo liiL'ltly intelligent, perfectly at home on every subject, He infurmod mo that ho lived in Albany, but spent every summer and autumn in Ath ens, for the sake of tho fishing, of which pursuit he was passionately r ond. The companionship of this gentleman was a God-scud to me in my isolated condition, for a more agrc< able acquaintance 1 had never met with. At the conclusion of our day s sport, which passed twice as quickly as usual, ow ing to the charms of my new friend’s conver sational powers, I asked him to uccompany me home to dinner. lie declined nt first, al leging as an excuse, that it would make it too late fur him to reach the village. I told him that I would give him a bed, and that wo could resume our sport the next day. After pressing him a good deal, he agreed to my proposition, and wo started off for my house togefh*r. During our walk we con versed on a hundred different topics, and I was perfectly astonished at the fund of information he possessed. At last we reached the house, and I showed my new friend into my bed-room for the pur pose of washing his hands, while I went to another chamber. We met again in the dining room, and were soon seated before an excellent dinner; for my uncle bud been nccustomed to live well, and the servant carried on the establishment just the same as during his lifetime. I should bare told you that my uucle was an amateur mechanic, and Lis house was full of specimens of his skill in this respect. Amongst other things, he had fixed in the dining room adumb-waiter which descended into tho kitchen below, so that everything was brought up from below by this contrivance, thus avoiding the chance of breaking dishes, &c., by carrying them by hand up and d**wn stairs. My new friend was very agreeable during dinner, and told mo a number of facetious stories which kept mo in a roar of laughter.— After tho dinner was over, the servant put a box of Ilavanna cigars, the port and sherry, and a bottle of brandy on the table, and with d-ew. It wan quite dark by this time, and cold enough for a fire. The solar lamp however, lighted up the room, and tho firo burned brightly. ‘•This is comfortable,” said Mr. Adams, for such, be told u p, was bis name, and he drew his chair up to the fire. lie had not been seated, however, more than a minute or two, when ho rose up, and walking to the door, opened if, put his head out a mo ment, and then returned to his seat again. “I thought I heard someone call me,” said lie. I looked at mv friend, thinking this was a strange r?mark for him to make. “Do mu wear Congress boots or Welling tons?” said he, with the most serious face in the world. “O, I wear Congress boots,” snid I, laughing. ‘‘You me wrtong, my friend,” said he. — “Congress boots arc the enuso of all the evil in he world.” 1 laughed at this, supposing that it was a joke. ‘‘lt is not a laughing matter,” said he, in even a more serious tone. “Do you imagine that Wellington would have won tho battle of Waterloo had be not worn Wellington boots ?” I began to be alarmed at my companion, looked at him more closely than I had vet done. I now noticed for the first time that a sombre fire was gleaming in his eyes. “Good God !” I thought to myself, “can itbe possible that the man is a mad man ?” “During the campaign cf Italy," continued mv friend, “Napoleon wore high hoots. The consequence was, he won the battles of Jenn, Austerlitz, Marengo, Areola, S:\ He wore only half-boots at Lcipsic, and consequently half lost the battle, while at Waterloo he de scended ta Bluchers, and was beaten in conse quence.” “Will you excuse me a moment?” said I. “I wish to give some instructions to one of my servants.” “Cerminly, my deer sir,” he returned.— “Don’t stand on any ceremony with me, you know.” I breathed again. lie was evidently mad, but in all probability ft harmless lunatic, I deteVmined to leave him, and then send seme excuse for not returning. I rose up and walked to the door. It was locked on the inside and the key removed. I saw it all then. He had put the key in his pocket when he had pretended to have heard someone call him.* I returned to my seat again in grent alarm, for he was twice ae strong and powerful as my self, and I foresaw in the ease of a struggle I should only be as a child in his hands. “You have changed your ntind, have you ?” said ho, with a hideous smile. “Thtt’s right 1 I want to talk to you. Now, respecting Wel lington boots- I c'hce, in the course of my life, wore Congress gaiters, and tho consequence was, I got shot in the arms. It was on board a ship. I gated with horror on my companion, and he deliberately removed a false beard and whiskers ; and pulling off a wig, revealed to me tho well known features of Hugh Kerby. I gave myself up for lost, for I saw no pos sibility for me to escape. “I want to tell you a profound secret,” said tho madman. “I am commissioned by the arch fiend himself to cut the tbroAts of every one who wears Congress boots. It was he who VOL, 4, NO, 10 told me to disguise myself and to come here. It was lie who showed tno how to escape from the groat house where I was kept prisoner by the King of Congress boots, but I escaped so cunningly—so cunningly 1" Ho deliberately took from his pocket a ruxor caso, and opening it, I saw the blades of throe razors slitter in tho sunlight. It was my own case. He had removed It from my bedrooi|i. “I am sorry for you young man,” tho mud man went on, taking one of the razors from the case and feeling its edge; “I tun sorry for you-—but there is no help for it. I niust obey orders you know. It is a pity that you are a subject of jtbc King of the Cotigross boots, for ht-’s iny enemy—my sworn enemy—and the pin my of my master, the arch fiend himself.' A sudden thought struck me. Could I carry it into execution? My life hung on a thread “You are, of course, light,” said I, “and you say, mui-t obey orders. It is the fortut* of wat, and I have no right to complain.” “I am glad that you take such a philosoph cal view of the situation-,” said he. “That it much the wisest plan for you to ndopt.” “I have one last favor to ask, which, J think, under the circumstances, ought not to be re fused, and that is, to be allowed to make my will. You must know I hare lately come into a fortune, and, if I leave no will behind me, it will go into the hands of strangers, thus de frauding my own relations.” “Os course, you can make your will, and I will witness it. It is right and proper that every man should make his will before he die*.’* I got up from my seat and walkod over to and book case at tho other end of the room, under the pretence of getting some paper. ThU brought me close to the dumb-waiter whisk descended to the kitchen, of which I have be J> fore spoken. I tore some blank sheets from a MS. boot/ Oa one of them I wrote: “I am shut up !u the dining room with fl madman. 110 has my razors in his possession. Let every man in the house come to mo at once and force open the door. If help does nos come in five minutos, I am a dead man.” I signed my name to this note, and watching my opportunity, I slipped it on the dumb waiter, and unhooking it, it glided noiselessly down to the kitchen below. Would my ruse be successful ? Would any of tho servants be in the kitchen ? Would they'havc courage enough to tace tho danger? Such were tho questions I asked myself as t began writing on the other sheet of paper the form of a will. It was now my only hope to defer the maniac front proceeding with hie murderous scheme as long While writing, I listened attentively for the sound of approaching footsteps. But the whole house was as silent as tho tomb. “Mj God!” I murmured to myself, “all the servants have retired to bed.” “It takes you a long time to make your will, my friend,” said the maniac. “I have just done,” I replied; “but I should be much obliged if you would read it over to see if I liavo drawn it up correctly ?” “I will do that with pleasure.” said the maniac, evideutly gratified at tho deference I paid him. I handed him the document I had drawn up. Fortunately for me, my agitation had made me write it very badly, so that it took him a long time to decipher. At last lie had read it all through, and pronounced it m regie. 1 signed it, and he added his name as witness. “Now everything is settled,” said he, rising from his seat with the open razor in his hand. “I must now carry out my master’s orders.” With that lie advanced toward me, when at that moment the door was forced open and half a dozen pale-faced "men rushed into- the room. The madman was so thunderstruck by thie Buddon interruption that he was seized and made prisoner without trouble, very same night messengers from the State* Lunatic Asylum arrived ut my house. Kerby had escaped from the asylum, and had been traced to Athens. 110 had boon seen in my company, and it was supposed might be in my house. The next morning he was removed back to his old quarters. With respect to myself, thi® incident cured me of country life. I left for New York, sold my property, and from that day to this I have not seen it or Hugh Kerby again. Fight With a Wild Man. Gallipolis, Ohio, is excited over n wild man, who is reported to haunt the woods near tb&t city. He goes naked, is covered with hair, ie' gigantic in height, and “ his eyes start from their sockets." A carriage, containing a man and daughter, was attacked by him a few days' ago. Ho is said to have bounded at the fath er; catching him in a grip like that of a vice, and hurling him to the earth, falling on him and endeavoring to bite and scratch him like a wild animal. The struggle was long airtf fearful, rolling and wallowing in the deep mud, half suffocated, sometimes beneath his adver sary, whose burning and maniac eyes glared into his own with murderous and savage in* tensity. Just as he was about to become «K hausted front his exertions, the daughter, taking courage at the imminent danger of her parent, snatched up a rock, and hurling it at the bend of her would be nmrdorer, was tunatc enough to put *n end - to the struggle by striking him somewhere about the ear. The creature was not stunned, but feeling unequal to further exertion, slowly got up and retired into a neighboring copse that skirted the road. Anew style of hat is called the “ Grant hat.” Wc have not seen it. but presume it has a “brick” in it