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DIRECTORY-
STATE GOVERNMENT.
Janies M. Smith, Governor.
N. C. Barnet, Secretary of State.
J. W. Goldsmith, Comptroller General.
John Jones, Treasurer.
Joel Branham, Librarian.
John T. Brown, Principal Keeper of the
Penitentiary.
Gustavus J. Orr, Stale School Commis
r. . .
J. N. Janes, Commissioner of Agricnl-
ThomasD. Little, State Geologist.
JUDICIAL.
BLUE RIDGE CIRCUIT.
Kml B. Knight. Judge.
C. D. Phillips, Solicitor General.
Time of Holding Court.
Giybrorhe—Fourth Monday in Febru
nry, and first Monday in August.
Coßft— Second Monday in March and
Jlovenibcr.
Dawson —Third Monday in April and
Mcond .Monday in September.
Fannin —Third Monday in May and Oc
•Wber.
Forsyth—First Monday hi April and
fourth Monday in August.
GfLHRR--Second Monday in May and
October.
Luvifkin —Second Monday in April and
•rat Monday in September.
Milton —Fourth Monday in March and
third Monday in August.
Pickens—Fourth .Monday in April and
•estembvr.|
Towns—Monday after fourth Monday in
M«y and October.
Union —Fourth Monday in Mav and Oc
«hber.
COUNTY OFFICERS.
C. M. McClure, Ordinary. Regular court
•r«l Monday in each month.
J. W. Hudson, Clerk Superior Court.
M. P. Morris, Sheriff.
B. G. Gramling, Deputy Sheriff.
John G. Evans, Treasurer.
Wm. N. Wilson, Tax Receiver.
Joseph G. Dupree, Tax Collector.
Wm W Hawkins, Surveyor.
’Wm. Rampley, Coroner.
JUSTICE COURT—CANTON DIS.
Joseph E. Hutson, J. P.
R. F. Daniel. N. P.
M. G. Daniel, L. C
TOWN GOVERNMENT.
W. A. Teaseley, Mayor.
J. W Hudson, Recorder.
James 11. Kilby, Jabez Gab*. J. M. Har
4ia, J. M. McAfee, Theodore Turk, Alder-
Maa.
COUNTY BOARD OF EDUCATION.
James O. Dowda, President.
James W.• Hudson, County School Com
missioner.
Prof James U. Vincent, Examiner.
Joseph M. McAtee, Allen Keith, Joseph
J. Maddox, John R. Moore.
Meetings quarterly, in the court-house.
fIHBROKKK TEACHERS’ ASSOCIA
TION.
Janies O. Dowda, President.
M. B. Tingle, Vice-President.
C. M. McClure, Secretary.
J. W. Attaway, Treasurer.
John D. Attaway, Censor Morum.
Prof. James U. Vincent, Association Cor
taapondent.
Regular meetings every second Saturday
ia each month, at 10 a. m.
RELIGIOUS.
Baptist Church. Canton Ga., time of
•arvice fourth Sunday in each month.
Rev. M. B. Tuggle*, Pastor.
M. E. Church, time of service, preachers
ha charro.
Rev. W. <l. Hanson, first Sunday.
Rev. B. E. Ledbetter, second.
Rev. J. M. Hardin, third.
MASONIC.
Canton Lodgk, No. 77, meets first and
third Monday nights in each month.
Jamea A. Stephens. W. M.
Jaaeph M. McAfee, Secretary.
hiXRS Lodge, No. 3ft?, meets first and
third Satunlays, 9 p. m.
C. M McClure, W. M.
O. W. Puunan, Secretary.
GOOD TEMPLARS.
Canton Lodge, No. 119, meets every
Saturday. s p. in.
B. K. IxHlbetter, W. C. T.
James W. Hudson, Secretary.
GRANGE.
Canton Grange No. 235, Canton Ga.
Xnbea Galt, Master.
J~wpb. M. McAtee, Secretary,
COjcwlwc
ONLY A TRIFLE.
Only a trifle ! The voice sounded sweet,
And the lips wore the smile once so dear,
While the words as they gushed from their
beauteous retreat,
Fell polished and light on the ear.
But the meaning they carried was pointed
and deep,
And a heart was estranged, and a life went
to sleep.
Only a trifle ! The look came from eyes
Once curtained and tender with tears;
But it covered a demon, in smiling disguise,
That haunted the gathering years!
And other dark eyes, often bathed in their
light,
Were darkened like stars in a storm-drifted
night!
Only a trifle I But trifles as soft
As down have oft broken a heart,
And shackled proud spirits, while soaring
aloft—
Torn hearts chained by Friendship
apart—
Strewing the pathway of life to the grave
With fragments of idols they perished to
save!
Only a trifle ! But crowding the gates,
Half closed on the sorrowful past,
These “trifles” throw shadows of Friend
ship and Hate
Around us each day to the Ixst;
Mingling in mpcltery still as they tread
Softly upon the hushed fields of the dead !
“Only a trifle” has woven a shroud !
“Only a trifle” has burrowed a grave !
Lightning may flush from a crimson-fringed
cloud,
Felling a brother, though noble and
brave!
“Only a trifle” has wounded and slain
More than have fallen in War’s purple
train !
<■«'>-
How the Old Man Helped Two Bashful
Lovers.
There is no foolishness about some of the
fathers of Dubuque county, lowa, who
have marriageable daughters, and they
know how to precipitate business when the
fruit is ripe for plucking, and hangs wast
ing its sweetness when it should be pluck
ed. Matters were brought to a climax wiih
a rush at a certain farmci’s residence in
Vernon township recently. A young tiller
of the soil had for months been paying
most assiduous attention to one of the farm
er’s daughters, but he was such a bashful,
modest chap, never having been much in
the company of girls, except this one, that
he had never been able to raise his courage
sufficiently high to pop the question.
He had gone to the house in which bis
admirer lived, upon at least twenty differ
ent occasions, resolved to know his fate,
but when ushered into the presence of his
fair one, into whose keeping he had placed
his heart, his coinage would invariably “go
back on him,” and lie would return to his
lonely room in greater suspense than be
fore. Upon the evening in quest’on he
had determined that, come what would, he
would tell bis Mary that he loved her. lie
would once for nil decide the matter, but,
as upon eacli former occasion, he could get
the proposal no further than his throat.
There it stuck, and lie had just determined
to gulp it down and give up the siege, when
the d<>or opened and tn stalked the girl's
father, who advanced to where they were
sitting, and thus addressed them :
“I came in to put a stop to this infernal
foolishness. It ain’t the courting expenses
that I am looking at, for coal oil’s cheap
an’ wood can be had for the haulin’; but
I’m sick and tired of this billin’ and cooin’
like a pair of sick doves, keepin’ me awake
of nights, and it’s got to be slopped right
here. Mary Jane, look up here. Do you
love John Henry well enough to marry
him ?”
“Why, father, I—l—you must—”
“Slop that darn foolishiu*,” yelled the
old man, “Answer ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ an’ mighty
quick too. It's got to be settled now or
never.”
“Well, but, father, don’t you know —if
you’d only wait, and—”
“Dry up; answer ’yes’ or‘no.’ Speak,”
roared the old man.
“Well, yes, then! There, now” —and
Mary again hid her face.
“That’s bu-iness; that's the way to talk.
Now, John, look here—look up here, or
I’ll shake you all to pieces. Do you want
that gal o’ mine for a wife? Speak out
like a man, now .”
“Why, Mr. , ain’t this rather a—l
mean, can't you—”
“Speak it out, or out of the bouse you'll
go head foremost. I won't wait a minute
longer. There’s the gal, and a likelier gal
ain’t in the Slate, an’ you just heard her
say she wanted you. Now, John, 1 won’t
stand a bit o' foolin’; once for all, ’yes’ or
‘no?’ ”
“Well, yes, sir. I have been presumptuous
enough to hope that I—”
“O, cues your soft talk ; the thing’s set
tled now. You two Wasted fools would
have been s : x months more ut that job that
I’ve done in the minutes. I never saw
such foolin’ ns there U among young people
nowadays. Ain’t like it was when 1 was
young. Au’ now good night. You can
talk the thing over, an’ you an’ me, John,
'll go to t wn an' get the license to-morrow
Soon be time to go to plowin'—no time for
love-makin’ then. G»xxl night, good night;
hope I wasn't «oo rough, but I was deter-
1 mined to fix the thing up one way or
CANTON CHEROKEE COUNTY, GA, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1875.
Virtue and Intelligence—The -Safeguards of Liberty.
t’other.” And the old man went back to
bed.
Now that the ice was broken, the young
people laid all their plans for the future,
and John felt just a little bad at the com
fort he had lost, when Mary looked up at
him shyly and said:
“This would have been all right four
months ago, John, if you hadn’t been so
skeery. I know’d all- the time that you
wanted to ask me; but it wasn’t my place
to say anything, you know.”
No cards.
The Power of Truth.
In a history of Persia is related the fol
lowing beautiful and impressive story:
Abdool Kader of Ghilatn had, when a
child, a vision which impressed him with
the feeling that be must devote himself to
God. So he went to his mother in the
morning and told her about it.
“She wept,” he says, “when I informed
her what I had seen. Then, taking out
eighty dinars, she told me that, as I had a
brother, half of that was all my inherit
ance. She made me promise, when she
gave it to me, never to tell a lie, and then
bade me farewell, exclaiming,‘Go, my son ;
I trust thee to God; we shall not meet
again until the Day of Judgment.’
“I went on well,” he adds, “till I came
near to Hamadam, when our kafitlan wa<
plundered by sixty horsemen. One fellow
asked me what I had got.
“ ‘Forty dinars,’ 1 said, ‘are sewed under
my garments ’
‘ The fellow laughed, thinking, no doubt,
I was joking w ith him.
‘“What have you got?’ asked another.
“I gave him the same answer as the ills'.
“When they were dividing the spoils, I
was called to a mound where the chief
stood.
“ ‘What property have you got, my little
fellow?’ he asked.
“ ‘I have told two of your men already,'
I replied, ‘I have forty dinars sewed up in
rny ciothes.’
“He ordered them ripped open, and found
my money.
‘“And how Caine you,’ said he, with sur
prise, ‘to declare so openly what has been
so carefully hidden ?’
“ ‘Because,’ 1 replied, ‘I will not be false
to my mother, to whom I have promised
that I will never tell a lie.’
“ ‘Child,’ said the robber, ‘bast thou such
a sense of duty to thy mother at thv years,
and am I insensible at my age of the duty
I owe to my r God? Give me thy hand, in
nocent boy,’ the roliber continued, ‘that I
may swear repentance upon it.’
“He did so, and his followers all alike
were struck with the scene.
“ ‘Y’ou have been our leader in guilt,’
they said to the chief, ‘be now our leader in
the path of virtue;’ and they instantly, at
his order, made restitution of the spoils, and
vowed repentance on my hand.”
This shews the powej of truth.
A Bloodless Combat.
A fairer face than that possessed by Eu
docia You Amburg is seldom seen. Beside
being beautiful, she was very wealthy, hav
ing inherited the vast possessions of her
deceased parents. She had been, since her
orphanage, the ward of Joseph IL, Emper
or of Germany.
Os course there were many- suitors for
her hand ; but among them all were only
two upon whom Eudocia looked with any
degree of favor. These two were barons.
Comparatively young, who had served with
her father in the war against the Turks.
They were the Baron Von Frobach an 1
the Baron Von Oberndorf. The Emperor,
entertaining equal respect for both of these
Rtiitora, knew not how to choose between
them, and the maid could not give them
the benefit of her decision. In this dilem
ma, Joseph fold the two barons that they
stood upon equal terms in bis confidence
and esteem; he could give neither the pref
erence over the other, and they must decide
the matter by their own prowess ; but as he
did not wish this matter to be the cause of
bloodshed, and perhaps of death, as might
be the case if offensive weapons were used,
he had ordered a large sack to |mj provided,
and he who should be successful enough to
put his rival into it, should Lave his fair
ward for a wife.
The suitors agreed to it, and this ludi
crous combat took place in presence of the
Imperial court. It lasted almost an hour.
At length Frobach was compelled to yield,
and the triumphant Oberndorf, having
forced him into the sack, took him upon
his back, and laid him at the feet of the
Emperor. Within a week the fair Eudocia
became Baroness You Oberndorf.
Whit s a couple of women wer® discus
sing, the other day, the merits of a certain
physician, ona of them asked the other
what kind of a doctor be was. “Sure, 1
dwnno,” was the reply, “l»ut I think it's an
alpaca doctor they call him.”
•> »
“Yov’rb always off at nights, Leander,’’
said Mrs. Spilkins reproach fully the ®Mter
evening. “Ye*, my dear,” replied Spilkine.
“You’ll remember even when I first pro
posed, vou considered me a pretty good of
fer.”
Going West.
Tliey entered Vicksburg just at dark.
The two mules before the covered wagon
leaned against each other for support, and a
man having any knowledge of mules would
have said that a lunch of scrap iron would
have been a God-send to them. There was
a big dog under the wagon, and he looked
aroundjn a suspicious, frig’ut-med way, as if
an attack from some quarter.
Peeping out from the wagon was a wo
man and three children. Her face was as
yellow as ocher and as sharp as a plantation
hoe, and if the children had a bit of bacon
for months past their looks didn’t show it.
‘We’i'e a sad family,’ replied the man, as
he returned from the grocery with a pound
of crackers and a bit of cheese.
‘Anything bad happened ?’ asked the re
porter.
‘You see that woman in the wagon thar?
Well, she weighed a hundred and sixty
pounds when we left North Carolina a year
ago. Thar she is now, gone down to a
shadder: and you couldn’t hear her holler
across the road t”
‘Yes,she does look bad.”
‘AmT thar’s the three children—fell away
to bouts and hide and ha’r. Thar used to
be seven. The rest are planted over thar
across the river!”
‘Well, that is bad.’
‘And thar’s them mules,’ continued the
stianger, his voice growing husky. ‘Thar
was a time when they was jist ole lightning;
had to tie ’em up out door for tear they’d
kick the stable down in North Carolina.
They don’t look like it now, but they was
once?|blc to run a plow into the side so
decpjLat it took a nigger a day to dig down
to the handles!’
‘They sec*n worn out now.’
‘And ga»e on that dog—poor Timothy,’
continued the man, brushing a tear from his
left eye—‘that’s what takes the pluck o’
me!* When I brought that dog from old
Norf Caroliny the taller fried out of him as
he walked, and wheu be sot his teeth on to
anything, it had to come or die. And what
is now ? Whar’s his boundin’ step, his fat,
Ma ?’ -u
‘You had bad luck, then ?’
‘Yes, things sot ag’in us from the start.
The rain drowned the crops out in Texas;
the agcr shook us up stairs and down; fever
took the children away; and tne old wo
man and tlie mules and Timothy sot right
downwind pined away to shadders?’
‘And you are moving ?’
‘We’re a joggiu’, stranger, kinder joggin’
along and around, lookin’ for a place to
squat. The old woman sighs for North
Carolina, and Timothy he’d git up on hie
hind legs and howl if pinted that way, but
I thought we’d jog a iittle further.’
‘Well, I’m soiry for you,’ said the re
porter.
‘Bleged to you, stranger, I’ve tried to keep
a stiff backbone, and I guess I kin see this
thing through, but when a fellow remem
bers what those mules was, and see ’em
now, its nuff to break bis heart, to say nuth
in’ about Timothy under the wagon, a dog
who wasbrung up on the fat o’ the land in
North Carolina, and who haint used to sor
row and grief !’ And he climbed into the
wagon, pulled the lines, and the mules
moved slowly on their way.
A Love-Sick Sailor.—An exciting scene
occurred off North Point yesterday morning
as the French corvette La Volta wasJeaving
for Taliiti. During the time that tlie Volta
remained in the harbor one of the men, it
seems, utilized bis “liberty days” in lavish
ing l>is attention on a young French woman
residing in this city. The attachment was
reciprocated, and when the day’ of parting
came it went hard for bulb. As the vessel ;
got under weigh the love-stricken sailor,
with a bound, cleared the bulwark and
headed boldly for the shore. The corvette
was instantly stopped, a boat lowered and
manned, and his capture speedily effected.
But he was no sooner placed on deck than
he sprang overboard again, only to be cap-1
tured in the same manner as above. Among
the witnesses of his plucky attempt to es
cape, who stood on the dock at North
Point, was the object of his devotion. Her
face was th® picture of despair when she
saw her lover captured the second time. — :
[San Francisco Bulletin.
The Female Department of the j
Tomiw.—The Tomba contains one of the
most peculiar characters in this city. I refer
to Flora Foster, the matron of the female
dcparimeulf She has held this position for
a third of a century, and still retains it, i
though now much wearied by long service ,
and increasing years. Mrs. Foster is a bus- 1
iness woman and has liltie to say to visitors. ;
She comes earlv and goea home at dark, and
has spent the best part of her life in prison, i
Frequently ahe has been called on by re
porters who desired to “write her up,” but
she has always declined. She is very kind
♦0 prisoners, but is very decided, and allows t
uo ill words or ill conduct. Entering this j
department I saw a fema’e form prostrate 1
at full length, and the tare covered by part I
of her d'ess. It was simply a case of intox
ication, such M one sees here constantly.
There are about forty women in this depart-!
rum*, but they hare a comfortable hsll. and
are treated well. Flora Foster has a list of
these unfortunate women for thirty years
What a history of woman’s life would it
present. The Tombs kitchen employs
thirty p- rsons, and the food is of a plain
quality, two meals a day being served. If
the prisoners desire better fare and have the
means of purchasing it, they can be served
from a neighboring refectory at a cost oi
about sl2 per week. Stokes was fed in
this way, and sq xvqs Tweed, but there are
few who can afford such luxury, and they
must take up with prison fare, which is
generally' all that they deserve.—[New
York Correspondence Utica Herald.
The Lord Will Pbovide. —Some time
ago, there was living in the City of Boston a
poor woman with a number of children,
who was so entirely destitute that she had
no further means of supplying herself or her
family with bread. To such a state of mis
ery and destitution was she driven, that she
was one Sabbath day severely tempted to
take her own life. She overcame the temp
tation sufficiently to attend divine worship
in the house of God. It so happened,
providentially, that the subject of the min
ister that afternoon was the unfailing prov
idence of God. It was a word in season.
Every sentence of it reached the heart of
the poor, despairing woman. She resolved
still to put her trust in that God who no
tices the sparrows and numbers our hairs;
and that very afternoon Help came from an
unexpected quarter.
Her little girl attended the Sunday school,
and while reciting her lesson, this particular
Sunday, her teacher noticed that her arm
was badly burned. Finding that it needed
attention, and learning fi‘om her where her
mother lived, she went to the house at the
close of the services. There she learned
their dreadful destitution, and was looked
upon indeed as an angel of mercy, directly
sent from God, who relieved their present
necessities, and promised to see them pro
vided for in the future.
“The birds without barn or storehouse are
fed ;
From them let us learn to trust for our
bread ;
HIS saints what is fitting shall ne’er be de
nied ;
So long as ’lis written, ‘The Lord will pro
vide.’ ”
Pure Expression.—Every word that
falls from the lips of mothers and sisters,
especially, should be pure and concise and
simple ; not pearls, such as fall from the
lips of a princess, but sweet, good words,
that little children can gather without fear
of soil, or after shame or blame, or any re
grets to pain through all their life. Children
should be taught the fr.equent use of good
strong, expressive words—words that mean
exactly what they should express in their
proper places.
If a child, or young person has a loose,
flung together way of stringing words, then
he should be made to “try again,” and
see if he can not do better.
It is painful to listen to many girls talk.
They begin with “my goodness !” and in
terlard it with “ohs!” and “sakes alive!”
and “so sweet!” and “so queenly 1” and so
many phrases, that one is tempted to believe
tliey have had no training at all, or else
their mothers were very foolish women.
There is nothing more disgusting than the
twaddle of ill-bred girls, and one is pro
voked often into taking a paperand reading
and letting them ripple and gurgle on, like
brooks flow, they know not whither.
My heart warms with love for sensible
girls and pure boys, and, after all, if our
girls and boys is not this, I fear it is our own
fault, for this great trust rests in the hearts
and hands of the women of our land. If we
have a noble useful purpose in life we shall
infuse the right spirit into those around us
A Yankee and a Frenchman owned a
pig in copartnership. When the killing
time came they wished to divide the merit.
The Yankee was very anxious to divide so
that he would get both hind quarters, and
persuaded the Frenchman that the proper
way . divide was to cut it across the back.
The i < fichman agreed to it, on condition
that the Yankee would turn his back and
take choice of the pieces after it was cut in
two. The Yankee tuined his back, andtiie
Frenchman asked:
“Vidh piece will you have—ze piece wid
ze tail on him, or ze piece vat aint got no
tail?”
“The piece with the tail,” replied the
Y' ankee.
“Den, by gar, you can take him along,
and I take ze odder one,” said the pleased
Frenchman.
Upon turning around the Y’ankee found
that the Frenchman had cut off the tail and
stuck it into the pig’s mouth.
The delighted youth gnaweth the unripe
fruit with which our first mother tempted
our first father, until Io and behold an un
pleasant painaeizeth him beneath the girdle
and causeth hint to shed tears of repentance,
while he curaelh his first parents for not de
vouring the entire lot of fruit and its seed.
Shoe dealer : “I find we have no number
twelve shoes, sir, but have a pair of large
nrnes." Customer: “Nines! Do you take
»♦> for a Cinderella ?”
VOLUME L-NUMBER 19.
Our Wagon Roads.
They will soon be in a dreadful condition. •
They are never very good. Docs it ]ay
the farmer to travel over bad roads? On
this point we call the Henry County (Tenn.) 1
Intelligencer to the stand : “It costs ten
cents to haul a bushel of wheat from the
neighborhood of Union hall, in this county>
to Paris, a distance of sixteen miles, and
five dollars to haul a hogshead of tobacco
the same distance. If an old acre of land
produces ten bushels of wheat, the tax
upon this acre for transportation to Paris Is
one dollar ; and if two and a half acres of
land produce a hogshead of tobacco, the
transportation of this tobacco to Paris is
two dollars. The State tax upon an ac>e
of land worth twenty-five dollars is ten
cents, and a county tax of ten cents is
twenty cents on an acre for the State and
county, or only one fifth of the transporta
tion of this tobacco raised on this acre to
Paris. This indirect tax, which you do not
seem to regard, is five or ten times as much
as the direct taxes of which you so much
complain. These remarks are applicable to
all pai ts of the country distant from the
railroad fourteen or fifteen miles. The
nearer you approach Paris the less this tax
is, but even ten or twelve miles from Paris
the tax is very heavy. If a man owns one
hundred acres of land, assessed at ten dol
lars an acre, the whole amount of his State
and county tax is eight dollars. If on this
land be produces three hogsheads of tobac
co an.l one hundred bushels of wheat
for sale, his transportation tax is fifteen
do lara on the tobacco and ten dollars on
the wheat; total, twenty-five dollars, or
seventeen dollars more than his Slate and
county tax.”
The farmer who beguiles himself with
the idea that it costs nothing if he hauls hia
produce to market with his own team,
makes no allowances for the lessened ca
pacity of hia slock for plowing and other
faim work. Such reckonings are utterly
fallacious. A team that draws three bales
of cotton to market, over our roads, comes
back a good deal the worse for the trip. It
is thus rendered unal lo to do that kind of
plowing which our soil sadly needs. The
Intelligencer sums up the case, without *
particle of exaggeration or false reasoning,
and we hope ©ur farmers will carefully con
sider this prolific source of indirect taxa
tion.
Docs it pay a market town to have bad
roads between it and its customers? This
question certainly answers itself. The town
that has good solid turnpikes leading into
it from the agricultural districts has a sure
hold on the trade of those districts. All
know that, and yet our towns insist on
building railroads that rapidly pass into the
hands of receivers, while they neglect their
wagon roads. A very short-sighted policy.
We need Letter dirt roads in every part of
Georgia, and enterprising municipalities
will hasten their construction, if they are
wise.
No country in the world, or a ast no
'highly civilized country, permits i ’agon
roads to remain in a bad condition ccept
ours. All over Europe the roads a hard,
dry and smooth ; in America they . .e bot
tomless in wet weather, undrained and
snaggy in all weathers. Georgia is no ex
ception to the rule in Ihis country. The
subject ia one of general interest. The
planter and the city man are alike interest
ed in good roads, and the Legislature can
not serve all the people better than by giv
ing our laws relating to the subject a thor
ough overhauling with a view to the secur
ing of better wagon roads. —[Constitution.
Fouling op Wells. —The most insidi
ous process is that of the gradual tonling of
the semi porous earth lying between the
source of its impurity and the drinking
water well. In such cases the exudation is
usually quite or nearly constant; there is
no opportunity for the air to restore thefil.
tering power of the soil, and it becomes
saturated with impurity inch by inch, until,
perhaps after several years, the saturation
reaches the well; then every drop oozing
in from this source carries with it its atom
of filth. While the supply of water in the
ground is copious, and while there is more
or lees circulation through the water veins,
the foulness may be too much diluted to do
harm ; but in dry seasons, when the supply
recedes to a depth of only a few feet at the
bottom of the well, the contribution of
drain-water continuing the same, the dose
becomes sufficient !o produce its poisonous
effect. The dangerous character of the wa
ter of such wells is often man.fi sted by no
odor or taste of organic matter; the chem
ical changes in this matter seem to have
been carried so far as to yield little more
than vivifying nitrates to the water, their
organic character having entirely disap
peared. Indeed, tome of the most danger
ous well-waters are especially sparkling
and refreshing to the taste. But the chem
ical processes which have effected this
change appear to have had no effect on the
germs of disease —if germs they be—which
retain their injurious character to such a
degree that the worst results have often
come of the use of water that was e«pe
rix'lv “sparkling and pleasant ns a beverage.