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Legal Advertisement# Will be inserted at the following rates: Sheriff sales, per equate |3 60 Sheriff’s mortgage tales * 5 00 Application for letters of, admistration 5 CO Application for lettois of guardianship 5 00 Demission from administration 5 00 Dismission from guardianship 5 00 For leave to sell land 4 00 Application for homestead 4 00 Notice to debtors and creditors 4 00 Sale of real estate by administrators, exeoutors and guardians, per square 3 50 Sale of perishable property, ten days... 2 00 Eatray notice, thirty days 2 00 Announcement.—All bills for advertis ing in this paper are due on the first appear ance cf the advertisement, when tho money is needed. THE BUTLER HERALD. Ja*a«“mWl“ le t there be light.” Subscription, $1.50 in Advance. VOLUME III.BUTLER, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1879. • NUMBER 146. Poetic Selections. HOME. Home will be just what wo mako It, Clothed in torrow or In joy; love, If pure-no power can break It, Nor 1U peaceful life annoy. Datkneea always gathers strongest Where love’s power la little known, There ita shadow dwell* the long'st, Acs tyrant on a throne, in the garret or the paiece, Home la home, where'er It bo, oto ahould rule It free from mallco, spreading peace and harmony. Plr Man t woriia at home returning, * Bring kind answers back again, Each from each be over bearing— Love ia Us bilgbt golden chain. Oh I how grand, arrayed In beauty. When love'a piwer guides all at homo, As n sentinel on duty, It remains—whate'er may come. Loving heart* are ever rosdy To Hdd pleasures every day, By their life power, tirm and steady, Ble.slng all within their way. May love’a sun be c v« r sbinlnp, lu each home o’er all the land, By Ua mystic graco entwining Heart to heart and hand to hand. Flowing onward as a river, In its silent majesty. Uod’e tru: presence to deliver Hearts and homes from mleery. Stories and Sketches. “.OLD FORREST.” Tire Kiwi Ip »r Tltlimlnco Creek. “You € u-B’l Whip 014 Forrest.” TV© copy the following: from a speech of Gen, Chalmers, be .'ore the Southern Historical Society, on the splended mili tary career of Gen. Forrest. Forrest reached Tupelo, Mississippi, on the 6th of May, 1864, and was busily engaged in reorganizing his command, now considerably increased by recruits and the addition of Gen. Gholaon’s brig- gade. Oa the 26th, by order of Gen. S. D. Lee, department commander, Chalm- er’s witli McCulloch’s and Neely’s bri gades wore ordered to Monte Vallo, Ala bama, to protect the iron-works of that region. On the 31st Forrest started with ILiford’s division to Tuscumbia to assist It xldy in meeting a movement in that quarter, aud had reached Russell ville, Alabama when he received infer* mation that Sturgis, with eight thousand infantry, five thousand cavalry and six batteries was moving from Memphis in to Mississippi, parallel with the Mem phis and Charleston railroad. Forrest began at once to concentrate his scatter ed command. Rucker, from Oxford, with three smal regiments, wan thrown acresj the Talla hatchie at New Albany, and commenced to ret» rd the enemy’s advance. This little Lnghue, under Rucker, who was second only to Forrest as a fearless fight er-composed of three regiments, under three dashing young Colonels, Duff, Bill Taylor aud Alexander Chalmers—was highly complimented by Forrest for his gallantry in performing his duty. On the 9th Forrest took position with two brigades of Buford’s division, John son’s brigado of Roddy’s division, and Rucker's briggade of Ohalmer’s divission, cast of the Hatchie, near Rienzi, to dis pute the postage of Sturgis, over that river, supposing he was moving to re- cnfoice Sherman in Georgia. The scouts now reported Sturgis moving south to* ward Forrest’s camp at Tupelo. OhaP mors, with two brigades, was then at Monte Vallo, Alabama; Roddy, with one briggade, near Tuscumbia; Ghol- son, with one briggade, near Jackson, Mississippi. Gen. S. D. Lee, now in command, determined to fall back to ward Okalona until he could concen trate bis forces, and left that night by rail, after ordering Forrest to get in front o' Sturgis and retard his advance Forrest moved beforo day to take posil tion at Bryce’s cross-roads, on a dividing ridge where the waters of the Hatchie rire and run north and of the Tallahat* cliio rise and run south, and wlen in four miles of.tbat place he learned that the enemy had already occupied^ and were now between him and his head quarters at Tupelo. He had with him thero his three smallest brigades, the effective strength of which at that time he reported as fol lows : Lyons’, eight hundred; Rucker’s, seven hundred, and Johnson’s, five hun dred; while Buford, with Bell’s brigade, nbjutfifiecn hundrod strong, and two batteries of artillery, were some distance in the rear. Ordering them to move in stantly up, which they did, coming eight miles in a gallop, he moved for ward with the men he had aud opened the fight, and at the same time ordered Bufoid to send one regiment across the c)untiy to attsck the enemy in the rear. The battle reged fiercely for some hours, with doubtful success, and eight hun dred federa’s and six hundred and forty lonfederaies fell dead and wounded around Bryce’s houfie. One peculiarity of Forest’s fighting was hU almost reck less use ol artillery, and on this occasion lie had eight pieces of artillery that were Boldly handled by Oaptsin Martin, a beardless youth, with the face of a wo man and the courage of a lion. Tho fed* orals made several splendid charges, that were repu’si at short range by the artillery, double-shotted with cannister. The con-ederatcs insist that both the federal infantry and cavalry were in this fight. The federal cavalry officers who censured Sturgis say they had cavs airy alone, and that instead of falling back with his cavalry on to his infantry, prepared in line, he undertook to hold the position with his cavalry and bring up his infantry five or more miles at doub’e- quick, and that they arrived broken down and unformed just as the cavalry were driven back on them, and all went pell mell together. Be this as it may, when Forrest captured Bryce’s house, theenemy’s infantry in column were in /ull view coming np. He turned loose on them his own eight pieces of artillery and six more just captured, and about that time Bartian’s regiment struck them in the rear, and the flight com** menced. A more terrific pursuit was never seen. The negroes had Inen sworn on their knees in line before starting from Mem- phi# to show no quarter to Forrest’s men, and on their shirts and banners was in scribed, “Remember Fort Pillow.” This had a double effect; it made the fed eral afraid to surrender, and infuriated Forrest’s men; and it is said that nine teen hundred were killed In this pursuit, which was continued sixty miles. The exact truth as to this flight will, per haps, never be known; but taking either the federal or confederate accounts of it, it was tho most brilliant victory of the war on either side. Forrest reports his force at thirty-two hundred cavalry and eight pieces of artiiiery. The fed eral report places Sturgis’ force at thirty- three hundred cavalry, fi fly-four hun dred infantry and seventeen pieces of artilery. With a superior force of cav alry, he might well have expected to hold, with them alone, his position, well selected at Bryca’s cross-roads, until his infantry could come up. Sturgis was as much astonished at his defeat as any one, and was so terribly mortified that when A. J. Smith moved out after For est, a confidential spy from Memphis reported that Sturgis was sitting in a hotel soliloquizing, “It can’t be done, sir I’* and when asked what could not ho done he said, “They c-a-n-’t whip old Forrest 1” In this battle two thousand prisoners were taken, all the artillery (seventeen pieces), the w hole ordnance train, well supplied with ammunition aud many articles of value to us ; the ambulance and wagon train, filled with most accep table supplies, especially coffee, which the hungry Confederates had not tasted for many days. Gen. Sherman, in a cipher dispatch, dated June 20, 1864, says: “He whipped Sturgis fair and square, and now I will put him against A. J. Smith and Mowor, and let them try their hand.” By this victory Forrest not only saved Colum bus and the rich prairie of MissDsipp again, but he saved Mobile also by the withdrawals A. J. Smith’s division, which had been ordered to its attack. Rosmer says: “From that great day when in person Alexander led the Mace donian horse, he ranks the first of cavalry general of all times, and the tactics there displayed were in every respect the same which now receive the sanction of mod* era science—sudden deployment and bold attack, outflanking the enemy’tfKrings, dividing the enemy’s forces, rallying, attacking the rear, supporting the men aced point, and to crown all, a pursuit of six hundred Btadia (eevtntv-fivo miles) in twenty-four hours. Never was there a greater achievement in ancient or modern warfare.” When a new edition of Roemcr’s work on cavalry is written it is to be hopel that tho battle of “Tishomingo Creek,” or “Bryce’s cross-roads,” as the federals call it, will not be forgotten, where the battle was fought and a pursuit of sixty miles made all in thirty hours. It has been said that Forrest was uu- educated,and this is true; but his ideas, when properly clothed in correct lan guage, were pointed and strong, and he was exceedingly tenacious that his own ideas, and not tho3eof the writer, should he expressed by those who wrote for him. His strong aud touching final address to his troops, though shaped by another, was his own croation, and he felt nil that the language imported whon he said: “Civil war, such ns you have just passed through, naturally engenders feelings of animosity, hatred and revenge. It is our duty to divest ourselves of ail such feelings, and as far as in our power to do so, to cultivate friendly feelings toward thoso with whom wo have so long con-» tended and horetofore so widely differed* Neighborhood feuds, personal animosi ties and private differences should be blotted out, aud when you return home a manly straightforward course of con duct will secure the respect of even your enemies. Whatever your respontibili- tieB may be to government, to society, or to individuals, meet them 1 ke men. * * * I have never on the field of bittle sent you where I was unwilling to go myself, nor would I now advise you to a course which I felt myself unwilling to pursuo. You hare been good soldiers; you can be good citizens. Obey the laws, pre serve your honor, and the government to which you have surrendered can af ford to be and will be magnanimous.” I Like the cause he loved, he is dead. In coming years, when the bitterness of strife has passed away; when that mys tic harp, whose chords connect the graves of the dead with the hearts of the living, shall vibrate the music of a re stored union, and some blind old bard shall sing tho praises of American heroes while eager children listen to their deeds of valor, the story of none will awaken loftier feelings of emulation than— Forrest, tho wizard oi the saddle. Tlio Imperial Love Affair. The Paris correspondent of the New York Tribune makes the following state ment in regard to the much-talked-of love affair between the late Prince Im perial and the Princess Beatrice: “ The Kingdom of England has outgrown its royal swaddling clothes. It must hence forth wear the ample purple mantle of imperialism. The queen had long felt this necessity, and so had Lord Beacons- field. Hence Her Majesty’s confidence in ^him, and the sympathy of both for Bonapartism, which had beon distorted by the liberal and radical parties and their newspaper orgaus. In short, Leuis Napoleon was regaided as the John the Baptist of a system which is esming into exlstencs".in England. Hence the sympathy of the C3urt, the government, and a large portion of the aristocracy with his widow. The Prince of Wales was the head of the English Bonaparts ists, and had looked forward to tho re storation of the Napoleonic throne and its consolidation |by a matrimonial alli ance between the late ill-fated starred pretender and the Princess Beatrice, who is said to be almost broken-hearted at his tragical end. She and Prince Louis Napoleon, it was reported to the French government often met at Marlborough h.ouse, and were partners in dances. The princess, leading a monotonous aud secluded life, was easily impressed by the attentions of the young imperial exile. A romantic affection sprung up between them. Beatrice refused to marry any one else, and the Prince of Wales, whose French friends are mostly Bonapartists, took his sister’s part when she was blamed for her unfortunate preference. The queen was brought round to accept the French prince as a son-in-law if the consent of the parliamentary majority to the match could be assured. Hence the efforts made by “certain daily and society” journals to place the suitor in a favor* able light and to represent the republic as being on its last legs, and the deter mination of the young man himself to defend English civilization against African barbarians at the Gape, Im- S erialiam proposed; halting NemeBcs isposed. A Ravishing Bathing Suit. Newport Oor. Huston Adrertisrr. But let us go back to our omnibus and to the beach, and see how lovely Amer ica has at last conquered oven the proly lem cf the bathing suit. Here as we sit, we can see one, two, three fair crea tures, no longer disguised and disfigured by slouchy tunica and baggy trousers and streaky color#, but positively adorned, iliereisa white suit fitting ike a charm, with its short shoulders, its gored skirt, its elbow sleeves, its frills at the neck and at the knees, where the trowsers ceases, ail trimmed with tor** chon laco and light blue cambric of Chamberry bands that even salt water cannot streak or change. And then the striped, the clocked orsffidhued stock ings that may “go” with this seductive suit and the hat that crowns all—no monstrosity of half worn dinginess, but a trim, stiff-rimmed white straw, banded an! bowed with the blue csmbric. Even the bathing shoes of white canvas are rosetted with blue, the whole offering a charming contrast to the. old scarecrow styles. And how does this blue and white splender come out of Neptune’s wet arms? Not badly. The contrast of color is still there, and there is no long skirt, no baggy trousers to flap and cling. The young lady who sits for this picture of white and blue now under your eye was a very pretty mermaid as she emerged from the wavos, the stiff hat glistening in the sun and the torchon lace shedding tho water like a strainer Alternately with the blue and white are pink and red, the light colors carrying the day over tho navy blue and dark shades of the old style. . .Sdventecn men sat in front of the hotel. Another came out from the din ing-room and took his seat among them. Seventeen faces lit up as if the long looked-for had come at last. Seventeen pair# of eyes were fix^d on the new arri val; seventeen pairs of lips open?d to speak to him. But be was too quick tor them. “Yes, gentlemen, it ia hot enough forme,” he observed, placidly emphatic. Seventeen pairs of lips were suddenly closed, and sevonteeu faces grew blank with a “light that never was on land or sea,” aB if seventeen American citizens had suddenly had all their con stitutional and hereditary rights swept away atone swift blast. ..The Rochester Sunday Herald wants to know which end the bees bite with. They remind us of the wicked, their la^i end, according to common report, being worne than their first. PANSIES. A little space within my garden is A mass ol purple bloom, with here nud there Splash** ol gold among the lea res. Than this There is no other spot more sweet or lair, Where to the mos -grown fence the Irlea ding And wind their t2n-iills round in dorlous ways, These pansies away In erery breeze, and awing Alike through silent summer nights and summu The faint, low murmur of the white-fringed wares Fall on my ear, aa in the starless dusk I etand bsslde the roya’, gold-crowned budr, Filling the air with scant aa sweet aa musk, The trumpet-flower and ambe- columbine Pour out the perfume of their hearts in rain, For naught tho start y trails of jessamine Twine lound my feet—their duspings I disdain. The reddest rose flings out its thorny learea To hold me back, and LIuo forgtt me-nota Look up beseeching y. But no, heart’s-ease Thou art the goal and harbor ot my thoughts. Thy spell, heart’s-care, hath hodged me close about, And I recall what I wou’d fain forgot. * « * Ob, that the light of years hath flickered out To leare the athes of most rain regret I I dream of radiant days whose sun la set To rite no more. Of ships that sailed away O’er at! anger seas than these, at last To weigh their anchors In some nameless bay. I dream of flocks ol snowy breasted turds, With one black-piuinjd, in all unlike the rest, I raise my arm*, but on the white train mores Untought, the sable wings fold in my broiat. I dream of dreary wayridta briar-grown, Where, far unteckoned tlmo, with eyoa bent down I searched in hea> t-despairing that which lay 6o near at hand, if I had only known. Thoujhta sad beyond the power of words come with A resurrection of dead meuoiiea. * * * Thank OoJ, hcart’e-easa has tilled the apace Beyond all past aad future myeteries. Religious Reading. The Faith that Mom Mounts Ins. The difference between faith and credu lity is, that faith believes evidence, and credulity believes where there is no evidence at all. tOur Christian faith rests r on overwhelming evidenc?. The great facts of Jesus’ life a:e fully estab lished. No one for centuries has thought of diBduting them—or denying that he healed the sick, raised the dead,caBt out devils, restored sight; and the charge made by his contemporaries was not that he did not do these things, but that he did them by the help of Satan. More convincing evidence is given of the great love of God for us, especially as displayed in the incarnation, suffering, and death of tho Lord Jesus, than of any other fact in the history of the world. We accept this evidence, and our intellectual faith leads our heart- faith, our personal experience, where we know of the doctrine become wo with to do the will of God. This is the faith which ChriBt wishes to see strengthened in his people. When his disciples could not expel the demon from the boy brought to them, they asked him, “Why could not we cast them out?” and he replied that their faith was ia fault* He had given them permission, and au thority, and power to do the work, but their unbelief weakened their hands, and prevented them from accomplishing any thing. “This kind,” he added, “goeth not out but by lasting and prayer.” Many have stumbled over these words, and yet their meaning is plain. Prayer, as a mere abstinence from 'ood, is nothing. Each thus regarded, has to do with the exter nal life only. Real prayer is every thing that brings us nearer to God, is every thing that brings us into closer communion with our Redeemer; and fasting is every thing that keeps us away from the sensuous world. Now, when a Christian’s life is marked by these fea tures, which are the complements of each other—when he lives clcse to God and far from the world, then his faith is strong, and he works miracles daily, and is conscious of it. I do not mean mira- clos in the eyes of the world, or miracles in outward form, but I mean real mirac es, nevertheless The man moves mountains, aad he knows it. Why do not we all have thi# faith? A Christian lady once asked me, “How is it that I do not enjoy my religion more ? Why am I so depressed and cast down ?” My reply was, “ I C9n soon tell you. You have taken the heimet of hope and the broast* plate of righteousness, and the shield of faith, and the sword of the Spirit, and have locked them up in some place—I don’t know where, but I do know that you have not put on the glorious panoply God gave you, and now you wonder that you do not feel the Bafety bis armor secures. I can tell you of your past life for months. Your chosen companions have not boon Christ’s loved ones, but thos9 who reject or neglect him; your chosen books have not had one word ot gospel in them; your prayers have been a form; your bible-reading a sly peep now and then, because it was your duty. And now having turned away from your God and Saviour, you are surprised that you have none of the joys of Christianity. I should be surprised if you had.” It is our want of faith that prevents our comfort, and prevents our miracle* wot king—our want of faith that rests upon fastiog and prayer, upon a with, drawal from a false, vain world, and upon our union with God. We are in fault— uot God. He has promised it to all his people. Let us put forth our hands and take it, aud become miracle-workers all our life long.—[Howard Crosby. IVhnt an* Rich Men DoingT Are they hoarding money for lawyers and children to quarrel over ? or mid night and grave yard ghouls to be haunt ed and finally to ba rewarded with? Graves have their forces, and good men often speak grandly by virtue of a fin ished life. But a man who sacrifices while he lives, who does good with his means when he could use them for the expansion of his business, who now aud then contracts his capital a little and gives the slice to great benevolence, not only prevents a large measure of litiga tion, but is a living witness to the virtue oi a great sacrifice. He spares irom him- s If that he may share with the world. Who can manage a great charity so well as the hand that first created it ? Who can well advise concerning it as the brain that conceived it and the heart that bhsjed it ? We suspect that the recent strifes over great estates, and the uncertainty which overhangs their man agement and distribution, are going to produce a revolution in the grace of giv ing. Men are going to give earlier in life; they are going to make hsnevelence moro of a study; they are going to give attention to it in their vigorous youth, which will make them examples to the beauty of self-denial, and the true means of leaving a legacy of love to posterity. Tnere are vast accumulations of wealth at tills moment in our great centres, that ought to ha thrown into the batter channels. Misery predominates every where. The suffering prevail over the strong. As to the future of what a lib eral soul leaves behind for children and friends, after a life-time of good and wise-giving to great causes, we believe it will do more, reach further, and live longer, than if it were tho undivided estate of a grasping hand, and an unchar itable. There are cases where a half is more than the whole, and this is one of them. NAPOLEONIC WILLS. Ciku llio Eniprns Kub<*iiIp Pity tbc Money Dftlird by tier Mom. Philadelphia Press. Young Napoleon left a holograph will, “done at Camden Place, Ohiselhurst, the 26tb of February, 1879,” not attested by any witness, but, from the first word to tho last, in his own hand-writ ing. According to the law of England (the Wills Act, 1 Victor ire, Chapter 26), a will must be executed in presence ot two witnesses, who see tho testator sign. it, or, at least, ncknowedge it, and are both present at the time. According to tho Scotch law and practice, a holograph will (that is, wholly written as well as signed by the testator,) does not require witnesses to make it operative. When this will is brought up for probate in London, near which it was executed, the recording officer may declare that, not being signed by witnesses, it is not a legal document. Ia such case the Em press iHtgenie, as next of kin, will prob ably take out simple letters of adminis tration, as she would have done had there been no will. Probably, too, she will endeavor to carry out, by all means in her power, the testamentary wishes other deceased son. The question may arise: “What is her pecuniary ability to do this?” The general belief is that the Empress Eugenie, during her nine years’ residence iu England, has not been in a condition of pecuniary prosperity. Her husband and herself neglected, while on the throne, to make any prudential pro vision for tho “rainy day” which gene rally comes to mortals once at least in tleir course of life. They appeared to have been all unconscious of any future shadow to dull the brightness of their exalted lot. They acted as if they had made the wheel-of*fortune pause iu it downward course. In Martin’s States** man’s Year-Book of 1870—the year when the emperor was shattered—we find a semi official statement, which had regularly appeared every year after year in previous volumes. It runs thus: “ Napoleon III. has a larger list than any other monarch in Europe. Besides a fixed annual revenue of 25,000,000 francs, or £ 1,000,000, hi# Imperia, Majesty has the income of the crown domains, amounting to about 12,000,000 francs, £480,000, and the free possession of a number of palaces, parks, forests and mansions, kept at tho expense of the state. The crown domains include a considerable portion of the estates oi the Orleans family, contiscatea by imperial decree of January 22, 1852. It is calcu lated that the total revenue of Napoleon III. reaches the sum of 42,000,000 lrancs, or £1,680,000 a year, which income however, has been surpassed of late by the annual expenditure. Tho debts on the imperial civil list are stated to amount to abovo 100,000,000 francs, or £4,000,000. With au iucroase of $8,400,000 a year and free oceujuucy of furnished palaces and mansions, Napoleon III. also con trived to run into debt to the amount of $20,00),000; and when he found an asylum in England was understoo l to have only the rental o’ his wife's Span ish estates to live upon. She also had some property in Pari#, chiefly consist ing of hanJaomi mamious in the new boulevards created by Baron Haussman in that city, but those had to bo sold under inevitable legal process at tho suitof tho craving creditors who ought to have been paid out of the civil list. Yet here, in the Prince Imperial’s will, are legacies to the aggregate amount of 900,000 francs in hard cash (this is $180,000), and aUo life-pensions of $20,- 000 a year to five other legatees. Other bequests, personal souvenirs, of more interestrthan value, to near relations, friends and members of the household at Ohiselhurst, need not be particularly noticed. Bnt the trouble is, where can theEmpres9 Eugenie find $180,000 to pay her son’s money bequests ? Could young Napoleon have been impressed in any way with the idea that he had $180,- 000 at his dispDial, without pressing on the limited meam of his mother, whom he so dearly loved ? History is cunstantly repeating itself, as the proverb saya. In April, 1821, a few days before hia death, Napoleon I., then a captive in St. Helena, made his la*t will, which was ev-ntually lodged in the Ecclesiastical Court in London, sub sequently given up to Napoleon III., and is now preserved among the national arcbieveB of France. By thiB will he bequeathed mauy millions of francB to various persons, stating that on leaving Paris in 1815 he had deposited 6,000,000 francs with Lafitte, the banker, who was to pay him 5 per cent, thereon, and that Marie Louise, his wife, owed him $2,- 000,000; a like sum being due, he de clared, from Eugene Beauharnais, his Rtep-son. In addition he stated that he had also left iu Paris his private do main, created, to the amount of 200,- 000,000 francs, out of the savings of 12,. 000,000 lrancs per annum out of his civil list in fourteen years, besides other prop erty. Butin actual money Napoleon I. estimated that he was worth $42,000,- ‘000, and made numerous and munifi cent bequests out of that capital. When this was finally inquired into on behalf of the legatees, it turned out that the entire wealth of the discrowned captive of St. Helena was under 1,000,000 francs, or $200,000 of our money! There need not be much suprise if the Prince Impe rial’s money bequests should be as un substantial as those of his famous grand uncle. A Dignified Coachman. l’uris Correspondent oftho Newark Advcitisor, The coachmau of wealthy Europeans are made so much of by their employers as to become oftentime i the masters of their masters. A ridiculous Btory ie- told of a Russian nobleman who esteem ed himself fortunate in obtaining an ex cellent English coachman. He accom panied hi# master in his journeys aud was treated with great kindness and liberality by his employer. On one oc casion a lady friend dined at the Count’s. He had promised to Bend her home. At ten o'clock she called for the carriage. The coachman could not be found. Accordingly a groom was ordered to take his place. The next day the coachman came to see his master and offered his resignation. The latter, who had said not a word about his absence when wanted the previous evening, was surprised and asked the reason. “Yours ia an excellent place and you are an excellent master, but I can never more mouut tho box afcain. I don’t drive after a groom !” And he persisted in his determination, in spite ol all the eflortsot the Count to appease his indig nation. A Trance of Niue Week*. Norfolk Virginian. The physicians of tLIa city are much interested, and the public generally greatly exercised, over a singular in- 8tanc? of suspended consciousness—the case of a young lady who has lain in a trauco for nine weeks. The case has been much talked of for weeks, but up to this time the papers have refrained from giving general publicity to it through their columns. The young lady in question has for weeks lain in a coma- tore state, and for a mouth was apparent ly asleep. After this period her slum bers appeared to be disturbed, her face at times becoming greatly c mtorted, and her hands gesticulating wildly. Her eyes became wide open, her countenance be trayed no in tell gene 3 or consciousness. Her condition up to tho present writing remains unchanged, aud the doctors are still watching the case with anxiety. They have had great difficulty in afford ing the patient sufficient nourishment, aud have reported to almost every method of introducing food into tho stomach. They pronounce the case a phase of hysteria, and say that it will not neces sarily prove fatal. Kclf-Kcapcd. Always remember no ouo cm debase you but yourself, dlander, satire, false hood, injustice—these can never rob you of your manhood. Men may lie ab?ut you they may denounce you, they may coenaU puapienns manifold, they may make your failing the tsriet oi their wit or cruelty ; never be alarmed --never swerve an inch from the line your judgment and conscieuci have marked out for you. They can not, by all their efforts, take away your knowl edge of yourself, the purity of your nature. While these arc left, you are in point of fact unharmed, Subscription Rates. One year $1 50 8ix months, 75 Three months 40 Resipaptr Lsw Decision. 1. Any person who takes a paper regular- ljr from the postoffice—whether directed to hianeine or another’s, or whether he hassnb- scribed or not—1# responsible for the amount. 2. If a person orders hit-fpaper discontinued be must pay all arrearages, or the publisher may continue to send it until payment is made, and collect the whole amount,whether the paper ia taken from the office or not. 3. The courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers or periodicals from the postoffice, or removing and leaving them uncalled for is prima facie evidence of in tentional fraud. riNHERN OF MEW. Down tbecalm river they leisurely floated, There, in a nook that wasahady and cool, They brought out (heir line*, and (heir hooks were all coated With bait well adapted the fishes to fool. Mabel was with them, and Lizzie and Laura, Maidens light-hearted, and merry, and (air, Each bestowed amilee on hsr favored adcrer, Destined, perchance, to fall Into her anare. Idly they played with their Hies, in the river, Little they cared though no tuh should be caught, Fondly each hoped that the fates would deliver Into her keeping the lover ahe sought. Lightly they talkid upon th'mea with which Cupid Had lavlably filled both their hea*ta and their brains, And laughingly said that the men were all stupid, The while they were artfu’ly weaving their chalna. The day passed away, and the nihlog was ended, Pleased with themselves the fair innocent* looked, They g«z?d on their victims and each compic- bended The fish ahe hal angled so long for was hooked. Then beck to the town the young men rowed light- If. Their baskets all empty—the fishing was tame— Whili on each other the maidens smiled brightly— lhe fishers of men had won at their game. Clipped Paragraphs. . .“Marriage with a tinge of romance’ is what they call it in Kansas when the old man rides after the couple and shoots the hat off the bridegroom’s head with a bullet from an army car bine. .. Husband—“Maria, my dear, you seem to be very lonesome in my com pany. Do you not love me now as you did before our marriage?” Wife— “Why, of course, Gerald, but you know since our marriage we have become one, and I feel lonesome without a second party.” ..Those widely-advertised quieten, called “soothing syrups,” for children, have killed several infants in England. The base of the stuff’ is opium. At an inquest recently hold on a poisoned child, a doctor said “the administration cf such mixtures was a common cause of death where children died of convul sions.” . .They had an amateur brass band at a funeral a while ago, and when they had equelched out the “Sweet By-and- By” ( at the grave-side, the minister in his address said that “the deceased was in one respect most fortunate in being called thus eariy.” That wa9 all he said, but the mournors grinned, and th amateurs think that “blamed sarcasm is infernally out of place at a funeral, you know.” # ..“Chevaliers of the press! Down with the despotism of the dictionary !” Class in American history stand up. Read! “WenJorj Uashingtuu wuz at Vale Forj, his traps wur in ned ov lud, klotbing an-1 }iker. It wuz vere told wether and fu ov them hnd shuz on tbar fet. But Jorj Uashingtun’s kurj nevur fald, and at last kongress sent him sup- liz, and he cacht the eneme ovur to Nu Jerze and wipt him at the batel uv Trentun.” That’ll do, boys. Run out, now, and play. The How of It, New York Times. The story of the tragedy, carefully compiled from all available sources, is as follows: Ex-Governor Sprague recently returned to Narragansett Pier from a viait to Portland. He was greatly ex cited by railroads, and on reaching his house armed himself with a shot-gun. Governor Sprague told him that he would give him just twenty-four hours to leave the room, which offer was thank> fully accepted and a written receipt given. Professor Conkling, who was employed to teach the Sprague children German, then said: “Perry do you want to witness a cold-blooded murder?’’ whereupon he immediately got out of the carriage and eought refuge in a sa loon. There is some question as to who carried the old gentleman out of the house, to avoid the further effusion of blood. He was an invalid, and naturally felt that he would like to withdraw be* fore the family shooting began. Senator Linck seems quite unable to account fer j Governor Sprague’s hospitality, and j Professor Conkling, who Is apparently a j peaceful and unobtrusive German, is quite surprised to learn Ihat he had any connection with the affair. After this the ladies instantly withdrew, and it is now said that it was not loaded, and there is some mistake somewhere. Wlioro Jefferson Davis Eloped. Green Bay Acvoi ate. A correspondent of tho St. Paul Pioneer-Press, writing from Prairie du Chien, says: “The house in which General Zack Taylor used to livo over fifty years ago was pointed out to us as the place whero tho ex-rebel chief, Jeff Davis, made love to ono of General Taylor’s daughters, and, having wooed and won her heart, but failing to get her papa’s consent, he stole her through a window, ran away and got married. Perhaps the day is in the future when there will be pilgrimages from the south to visit the scenes of their chieftain’s courtship.” This occurrence—the running away with General Taylor’s daughter by Jeff Davis—is- variously located at Gtreen Bay, Fort Winnobago aud Prairie (!u Chien, but, without doubt, Fort Winne bago, and not Prairie du Chien, wks really the place where it occurred. , >