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BY BREWSTER & SHARP. The Cherokee Georgian M PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY BREWSTER & SHARP. KATES OF SUBSCRIPTION \ (POSITIVELY IN ADVANCE.) •ingle copy, 12 months.. $1 50 •ingle copy, 8 months 100 Single copy 6 months 75 •ingle copy, 4 months 50 A D VERTISING rates, •pace | Im. | 2 m. | 3 m. | 6in. J • finch P/250713501J4 50 | <7*oo j $lO 00 |Wa I 150 | "5 00 | 650 j 10 00 | 15 00 COTPob I 9 ooilf 50 I 1800 |_JSOO glSij 10 00 I 12 50 I f 6 do | 25 00 I 40 00 U«H.TI2 507 16 00 f 25 00_| 37 50 1 50 00 i/coiTTfS WTI 25*00 i 3500 |45 00J 65 00 t col.' l 20007 35 007 50 00 | 6500 | 100 00 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.