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BY T. L. GANTT.
THE OGLETHORPE ECHO
PUBLISHED
EVERY FRIDAY MORNINC.
BY T. L. GANTT,
Editor and Proprietor.
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3 “ 2.50 3.25 5.00 6.00 10.00 16.00 22
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8 •* 5.00 6.00 9.0010.00 15.00 25.00 40
3 mos, 6.00 8.0011.0014.00 18.00 30.00 60
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All advertisements are due upon the first
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Legal Advertisements.
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an’s Sales, per square 7 00
Each additional square 5 00
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Letters of Guardianship, 30 days 4 00
Letters of Dis. Guardianship, 40 days.... 3 75
Homestead Notices, 2 insertions 2 00
Rule Nisi’s per square, each insertion... 1 00
GEORGIA RAILROAD SCHEDULE
The following is the schedule on the Geor
gia Railroad, with time of arrival at and de
parture from every station on the Athens
Branch:
UP DAY PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leave Augusta at 8:00 a. m.
Arrive at Union Point 11:33 a. m.
Leave Union Point 11:40 a. m.
Arrive at Atlanta ....... 4:00 p. m.
DOWN DAY PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leave Atlanta at 7:00 a. m.
Arrive at Union Point 11:32 a. m.
Leave Union Point 11:36 a. rn.
Arrive at Augusta 3:30 p. m.
UP NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leave Augusta at 8:15 p. m.
Arrives at Union Point at 12:55 p. m.
Arrive at Atlanta 6:25 a. m.
DOWN NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leave Atlanta at 10 30 p. m.
Arrive at Union Point 3 54 a. m.
Arrive in Augusta 7 40 a. m.
ATHENS BRANCH TRAIN.
DAY TRAIN —Down.
Time
Stations. Arrive. Depart, bet.
sta’s.
A. M.
Athens 8 45 25
Wintersville 9 10 9 15 30
Crawford 9 45 9 50 25
Antioch 10 15 10 18 15
Maxey’s 10 33 10 35 15
Woodville 10 50 10 55 20
Union Point 11 15
DAY TRAIN— Up.
Union Point...P. M. 11 45 20
Woodville 12 05 12 10 15
Maxev’s 12 25 12 30 15
Antioch 12 45 12 50 25
Crawford 1 15 1 20 30
Wintersville 1 50 1 55 25
Athens 2 20
NIGHT TRAIN— Down.
Athens a. m. 10 00 25
Wintersville 10 25 10 30 30
Crawford 11 00 11 05 25
Antioch 11 30 11 32 15
Maxey’s 11 47 11 49 15
Woodville 12 04 12 10 25
Union Point 12 35 a. m.
NIGHT TRAIN — Up.
Union Point 3 55 25
Woodville 4 20 4 24 15
Maxey’s 4 39 4 41 15
Antioch 4 56 4 58 25
Crawford 5 23 5 27 30
Wintersville 5 57 6 02 28
Athens 6 30
NOWOPEN
CRAWFORD HOUSE
CRAWFORD, GA.,
R. A. McMahan, Proprietor,
TS NOW OPEN TO THE TRAVELING
_L public. This hotel is immediately on the
Railroad, and nearly opposite the Depot. The
rooms are well ventilated, the beds clean and
comfortable, the table supplied with the best
the market affords, well prepared. A call so
licited. Terms $2.00 per day. Meals supplied
at all hours of the day at short notice. An
attentive Porter will be found at the depot on
the arrival of the train, in readiness to convey
the baggage of guests to the hotel.
A genuine old Tennessee welcome
and meal promised all who favor me with a
a call. R. A. McMAHAN.
@lf£ (Dgkll)ciqn' Cdio.
DEVILTRIES.
—ls sa/e-robbing dangerous ?
—How to find a girl out —Call when
she isn’t in.
—Joshua was the first man who ever
took a newspaper. He stopped the Sun.
—lt is women dress to worry
themselves a*! make other women un
happy.
—We are told that nothing is made in
vain. How about a pretty girl? Isn’t
she maiden vain ?
A Western druggist has invented the
44 Bessie Turner sleeping draught” for
teething children.
—A young lady at the Hartford Acad
emy received fifty lashes. She was born
with them—over her eyes.
—No doubt the happiest dogs that ever
lived were the two taken aboard of No
ah’s ark —for they had but one pair of
fleas between them.
—lt is said that Brigham Young has
acquired the title of General from having
been called “ Briggy dear” so often by
his numerous wives.
—The man whose hair turned white in
a single night, is put in the shade by a
Crawford married man, whose hair dis
appeared in a single night.
—He was scalded to death from a boi
ler explosion, and on his tomb-stone
they chiseled deeply: “ Sacred to the
memory of our ’steamed friend.”
_—“ Jump-up-and-run-away-and-then
sit-down-again” is the name of a Red
Cloud Indian who has just taken the war
path. He must have sat down on a pin.
—The question is often asked how a
young lady, working on an afghan, keeps
count of all the knits. The only suppo
sition is that she must carry them in her
head.
—A way has been discovered of mak
ing a delicious perfume out of bed-bugs.
Thus anew industry is opened to the en
terprising housewife and boarding-house
keeper.
—Crowing hoy on fence to boy on the
walk : “ Aha ! You ain’t got no baby at
your house.” Sneering boy on walk to
boy on the fence : “ I don’t care, our lit
tle dog’s got six pups ; aha-a !”
—The longest night in Norway lasts
three months, and when a young man
goes to see his girl, her mother, before
retiring, tells her not to ruin her health
by sitting up more than two months.
--“Say, do you think Beech ?”
Zip, something went whizzing through
the air, and the questioner was a cold
corpse. The coroner’s jury returned a
verdict of “ Justifiable manslaughter.”
—What demon is it that could prompt
a parcel of young ladies to lock a young
man up in the front parlor while they
amused themselves sliding down the hall
stair bannisters? Don’t ask us now.
That’s a cold water conundrum.
—“ It’s well enough for you to name
your boy Elias,” said Aunt Hepzibah,
but for gracious goodness’ sake don’t
name him Alias, ’cause the Aliases are
always cuttin’ up bad. Here’s Alias
Jones, Alias Brown, Alias One-eyed
Jack, all been took up for robbing and
stealing.”
—As a stranger was, Saturday, knock
ing at the door of a house in Lexington,
a boy came around the corner and inqui
red : “ Got anything to sell ?” “ Yes, I
want to sell your mother a box of tooth
paste.” “ Might as well git off’n the
steps,” continued the boy, as a smile
broke out around his mouth ; “ she’s got
store teeth, and she cleans ’em with a
woolen rag!” .
He wrote and told her that he would
be around at 8 o’clock in the evening,
concluding his note with the following
couplet:
With breath as sweet as roses
Thou’lt breathe upon me love.
And she coldly answered : “ You’d bet
ter not come. We had onions in the
soup to-day.”
—At a camp-meeting last summer, a
venerable sister began the hymn—
Mv soul be on thy guard :
Ten thousand foes arise.
She began in shrill quavers, but it was
pitched too high : “Ten thousand—Ten
thousand,” she screeched, and stopped.
“ Start her at 5,0001” cried a converted
stock-broker present.
—A ragged, forlorn-looking hoy was
strolling around the Southern depot yes
terday, smoking the stub of a cigar, when
philanthropist in waiting for a train
handed out ten cents and remarked:
“ Take it, bub; I feel sorry for you.”
“No yer don’t,” exclaimed the* boy,
drawing back. “ Why, it’s a free gift—l
lon’t ask anything for it,” replied the
man. “I know you,” continued the boy,
his eyes twinkling; “you want me to
S remise to grow up and become Presi
ent, and I ain’t going to tie myself up
for any man’s ten cents!”
—“ Is this the post office ?” inquired a
stranger the other day as he approached
Hams Pace, who was quietly unwinding
his pet snake from his arm. 44 It is,” was
the reply. “ And you have stamps here?”
“Yes sir?” “ Will you be so kind as to
please sell me one V* “ I will.” “I am
very sorry to bother you,” continued the
stranger, as Harris was tearing off the
stamp, 44 but I want to send a. letter off,
and I hope you’ll excuse me.” 44 That’s
all right,” replied the postmaster. “Yes,
I believe it is all right,” said the stran
ger. “ I’m a thousand times obliged for
your courtesy, and now I want to beg one
more great favor. Can I mail this letter
here ?” “ Why, of course !” “ Can I ?
Here, give me your hand, old man!
I’ve been living for near forty years, and
I ain’t used to this sort o’ kindness, and
it goes right to my heart!”
CRAWFORD, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 23, 1875.
11 SCULPED.”
“ Injuns, stranger—lnjuns ? Yes, I
know the hull gang of ’em from Red
Cloud and Spotted Tail down to the tod
dling pappoose, I ought to know ’em —
I’ve fit ’em for nigh unto thirty years !”
He was a grim looking old man, with
grizzly locks in view under his coon-skin
cap. He had on a bear-skin coat, Indian
moccasins, buckskin shirt and leggins,
and he held a long rifle between his knees
as we talked.
“ These Western railroads are rabidly
civilizing the country—fast killing off In- 1
dians, wolves and buffaloes ?”
He looked around the car, which was
handsomely furnished and finished, and
sighed as he replied :
“ Yes, times are gittin’ wus an’ wus
down this way. I’ve been thinkin’ of
goin’ up to the Yellowstone, whar a man
can go out any time o’ day and git up a
squar fight with a grizzly, or raise a rum
pus with the reds.”
“ You must be quite an old man ?”
“ Only ’bout sixty. I aint quite so
limber on a long run, an’ can’t sleep
quite so well witn the rain pouring down
into my face, but if I thought I wasn’t
good for any three Injuns on the plains,
or any grizzly that ever stood on legs,
I’d ax ye to shoot me I”
“ You must have seen wild times out
here?”
“ Purty wild—purty wild,” mused the
old man: “there used to be heaps o’ reds
out here, to say nothing of the wolves,
b’ars and rattle-snakes, an’ thar was
times when death rose up to shake hands
with me.”
“ Ever taken prisoner ?”
“ I’d ought hev been—l guess I was”
he said, as he uncovered his head.
“ Why, you’ve been scalped?”
“ They called it sculping, stranger!”
“ And who did that ?”
“ This same blasted Red Cloud. He
didn’t use the knife, but he stood by and
hollered and encouraged the chap who
did do it.”
“ Your sensation must have been terri
ble.”
# “ There wasn’t time to feel any sensa
tions, stranger. They sneaked in on me
an’ Tom as we dozed, an, when I woke
up Tom was riddled an’ my sculp was
hanging to an Injun’s belt!”
“ And what then ?”
“ Nothing much, I got up and killed
two, wounded another, and legged it up
thecanon and got away. Ifitwasto do
over again I’d git my topknot back or
fight the whole Sioux nation till sumbody
went under!”
He seemed lost in reflection for a mo
ment, and then continued:
“ I don’t know what sculps is wuth in
the market, but I guess I’ve got the full
value of mine. I’ve knocked over risin’
of thirty Sioux since that night, an’ I
guess I’d be willin’ to pass receipts.”
“ l suppose you’ve had a turn at half
a dozen different tribes?”
/‘Less see?” he mused. “Thar’s the
Sioux, Blackfeet, Pawnees, Arrapahoes,
Shoshones, Cheyennes, an’ three or four
other tribes. They’ve all hunted me, and
I’ve hunted them, an’ I can’t say as they
owe me anything.”
“ I notice a bad scar on your face.”
“ Party good sear for a common man,
but I kin show ye the sculp-lock of the
Pawnee who made it. He jumped on to
me jist after I had swum a river, an’ he
thought he’d get hold of a jack rabbit.
’Twas a bad cut, and it kind a ’mazed me
at fust, but when I did cum to, he was
dead afore he could yell twice ! I said it
was a purty good sear, but it isn’t quite
quite ekal to this.”
And he pushed up the legging on his
right leg and exhibited a scar which
made me draw back. The foot, ankle,
and the leg as high as I could see had
been burned by fire.
“ The Blackfeet had me fast to a stake
once, yeobsarve,” he explained. “That
was the time when they poked eacli oth
er in the ribs an’ said they had a dead
sure thing on old Carter, hut they wuz
mistaken. They had me three days,
and I’d bin kicked an’ cuffed until there
wasn’t any more fun in it, an’ then they
tied me to a stake an’ lighted a fire
around me. ’Twas pretty clus stranger
—pretty clus J”
“ Anel how did you escape ?”
“ Half a dozen of my old pards came
along jist in time to knock over half the
band and save me.”
There was silence again while he un
buttoned his shirt and showed me a bo
som literally grid-ironed with scars.
“ Well, thar may be two or three knife
cuts thar,” he explained, but the heft of
them scare wuz made by a grizzly. He
wasn’t one o’ these bar calves that sum
folks knock over an’ then blow about,
but a reg’lar three-story, old-fashioned
grizzly, such as ye don’t find outside o’
the darkest canons in the Rockies. I
wuz bendin’ over the fire when the var
mint slid down a canon an’ wuz right on
hand afore I had any warnin’.”
“ And was it a hard fight ?”
“It wuz a putty fight,stranger,because
it wuz a fair fight. I had a big knife,
an’ he had teeth an’ claws, an’ we went
in ter kill. He wuz good grit, but a leetle
slow. Thar wuz about thirty days after
that little epysode that my pard had to
nuss me like a child.”
“ And you mean to die here ?”
“ That’s for the Lord to say, but I
’spects yer more’n right. The Injuns is
putty quiet down here, an’ these keers
ar’ bringing heaps o’ people West, but
I’m goin’ up whar a white man won’t
disturb the Lord’s works for a hundred
years to cum ! I feel kinder mean an’
small down here—as if I wuz huntin’
rabbits, but up the Yellowstone a feller
kin brace up after he’s knocked over a
red or two an’ feel as if he wusn’t foolin’
away his young days !”
And that was old Carter.
—An agricultural paper says kind
words will cure a cow from kicking. It
may be so, but most people will still ob
serve the old custom of using a fence-rail.
OOBLEIGrH’S AUNT.
A Pleasant Lady at a Dinner-Table.
[By the Danbury News Man.]
Mr. Cobleigh’s aunt, from Cornwall,
came to see him Friday. She is a nice
old lady, and Cobleigh was glad to see
her when he went home at noon.
When they sat down to dinner and
Cobleigh had plentifully helped her to
food, she peered over the top of her glasses
at him a moment and then observed, with
some anxiety:
“ Ain’t you well, Joseph ?”
“Oh, yes, aunty— quite well. Why?”
“ I thought you looked kinder yaller
under the eyes,” she explained, continu
ing her gaze as if in doubt whether to be
lieve his inlpressions or her experience.
“ You must be keerful of yourself, for
there’s a heap of sickness all about.
Haven’t you any salts in the house?”
“ Yes, there’s a paper of them in the
pantry,” explained Mrs. Cobleigh.
“ Well, he ought to take a little of them
every mornin’ about an even spoonful be
fore breakfast. I’m sure he is bilious,
an’ there’s nothing better’n salts for bil
iousness. They won’t do him any harm,
any way, an they keep his blood cool, an’
so keep off fever. We’ve never been
without salts in the house for forty years,
and land only knows, how much doctors’
bills they’ve saved us. I don’t believe
in doctors nohow. They pretend to know
everything, but I can tell them some
things about sickness they don’t know.
They’re good in some cases* I’ll allow, but
if people would only take care of them
selves, an’ go to dosin’ as soon as they
commence to feel out of kilter, there’dbe
fewer doctors, I warrant ye. But some
folks are like sticks. They never keep
anything on hand, an’ when they are ta
ken down—off post haste for a doctor, an’
out goes five dollars, ten dollars, an’
sometimes fifty an’ a hundred dollars,
when ten cents’ worth of salts or a little
rhubarb would have answered the hull
purpose.' I haiut got no patience with
such people, an’ I never did have. I’ll
take another pertaty, Joseph.”
“ You knowed Precilia Ames, Barney
Ames’ sister—she was down with a fever
in February. They had two doctors, but
they couldn’t do anything to help her.
Then they sent over for me. She was an
awful-looking spectacle. Her bones
seemed to push right through her skin,
and the calf of her leg could be spanned
by my finger and thumb. I never seed
any one fell away as she was. She was
a dreadful-looking object, I can tell you.
Why, even her throat was full of little
festers that kept a breaking all the while
)J
[Mr. Cobleigh was just on the point of
swallowing a piece of cabbage, but he
had to close his mouth shut and wait a
moment before he could do it.J
“ I seed what Was to be done must be
done at once, an’ so I went at it. I gave
her a good big dose of blood-root, and
put mustard drafts on her feet, and a
large one on her back. In less than two
hours she began to feel better. But you
ought to have seen her hack when that
plaster came off Why, it was just as
raw as a piece of beef, and there was a
lot of yaller ”
Mr. Cobleigh was about helping him
self to a piece of the omelette at this
juncture, but suddenly dropped it—“stuff
all
“How’s Uncle John getting along?”
suddenly inquired Mr. Cobleigh, with a
strange feeling in his throat. “ Why
didn’t he come with you ?”
“ O, he is up to his ears in farm work,
and he is short-handed one man, which
makes it unfortunate just now.”
“ Why, where’s the man,” inquired Mr.
Cobleigh, with a degree of anxiety which
was certainly remarkable in view of the
fact that he did not know the missing
party ; in fact, had never heard of him
before.
“ O, lie’s down on his back with a fever
sore on his knee,” replied the aunt.
“ O, gasped Mr. Cobleigh, suddenly
putting back a mouthful of meat he was
just lifting, and turning white about the
mouth.
“ Yes, he has been sick two weeks with
it,” added the aunt, resuming her vivac
ity.
“ Last Friday the Doctor lanced it,
and you ought to have seen the stuff that
come out of it. There was a pail—
Mercy !”
Mr. Cobleigh had hacked so precipi
tately away from the table as to turn
over a chair.
“ Why, you ain’t goin’, Joseph ?” she
ejaculated.
“ I’m afraid I must; I have got a par
ty to meet, whom I forgot all about till
just this minute,” he explained, gulping
down something in his throat to make
room for a ghastly smile.
“ I do believe Joseph is bilious,” re
sumed the old lady after his departure.
“ He ain’t eaten hardly anything an’ left
his plate full. I hope you’ll remember
to give him them salts regular, Ann Eli
za. They’ll fetch him around all right.”
And the old lady readjusting her glasses,
returned to her dinner.
A dispatch to the Memphis Avalanche
from Forest City, Arkansas, says: “On
ths 4th inst. Miss Ellen Hamilton, a
young lady living with Captain James
Hunter, was brutally outraged, cut with
a knife, and left for dead, by a negro
named Davis, who then stole a horse and
left. He was followed by a party to
Augusta, and was at one time arrested by
an old Portuguese living there, but es
caped. A large number of citizens are
still in pursuit of him, and if found he
will he summarily dealt with.”
It is stated that Barnwell county,
South Carolina, has a genuine case of
Siamese twins. A woman in that coun
ty recently gave birth to two children
who are joined together by a ligature
very closely resembling that which uni
ted the bodies of Chang and Eng.
POMEROY, THE BOY MURDERER.
Decision of the Council in Reference to the
Hanging—The Confession.
A Boston dispatch states that the coun
cil, on Friday, bv a vote of five to four,
authorized the Governor of Massachu
setts to issue his warrant for the execu
tion of the boy murderer, Jesse Pomeroy,
whose murder of two small children, for
no cause whatever, is well remembered.
An immense pressure was brought to bear
on the Governor and council by parties
in favor of meting out to Pomeroy the
full extent of the law—i. e. hanging—
instead of commutation of sentance of
imprisonment for life. Delegation after
delegation (mothers in nearly all cases)
have waited upon members of the coun
cil at their homes, offices, on the street,
at the hotels while dining, and even in
stores when making necessary purchases,
have they been besieged by ladies, as
soon as recognized as members of the
Governor’s council, to cast their vote in
favor of hanging whenever his case
should come before the council for final
disposition.
THE CONFESSION.
Pomeroy was visited at the jail where
he has been confined since his conviction
by members of the council, who con
versed with him on the subject of his
crimes. They found him to be an un
usally bright and intelligent lad, his
answers were given with promptness and
decision; there was no wavering or hesi
tation in them, but right to the point.
When asked how many murders he had
committed his quick reply was. “ Two,
sir!” lie was asked why he killed the
little boy, aud replied that “ he did not
know.” He said that “he was standing
with two others looking at the working
of a fire engine, when he noticed a pretty
looking little boy standing near. He
suddenly asked the little fellow if he
wouldn’t take a walk with him, and upon
consenting, he was led across marshes a
distance of at least a mile, when sudden
ly he felt a fluttering in his head and
mechanically he took his pocket-knife
from his pocket, rapidly opened it, and
stabbed, stabbed, stabbed it into his lit
tle victim, having no conciousness of
what he was doing at the time, and never
that day fully realizing what he had done.
That in all the time he was walking with
the boy he did not have it in his mind to
injure him, his only notion in having him
with him was for companionship, and it
was only when suddenly seized with this
uncontrolable impulse that he did the
deed, and it all occurred within a minute.
The boy was a pretty child, and that was
what attracted him toward him.”
THE MURDER OF THE LITTLE GIRL.
When asked about the circumstances
ofhi.s killing the little girl in South Bos
ton, he said, that “that morning his
mother and brother were away, or en
gaged, and he was obliged to attend to
the periodical store. He sat reading
awhile, when a pretty little girl, whom
he had never seen before, came in and
asked for same papers. As soon as she
spoke, this terrible feeling all through
him, with the fluttering in his head, came
over him, and he replied: “They’re
down cellar.” Unsuspectingly she open
ed the door and passed down the stairs,
Pomeroy immediately following, drawing
his knife as he went. As soon as the
bottom was reached he placed his left
hand over her mouth, drew her head
back toward his shoulder, with the knife
in his right hand, cut herthroat; and she
was dead in a minute. Not three minutes
had expired from the time he first laid
eyes on the little girl before she was dead.”
ANOTHER OF POMEROY’S ATROCITIES
At one of the hearings before the coun
cil there were present with their parents
several of the little victims of his pre
vious atrocities. The recital of the in
juries and tortures inflicted upon them
by Jessee Pomeroy were startling. He
met one little boy, when there was snow
on the ground and the thermometer near
zero, standing into a window; he told
him a story as to how a man wanted a
bundle carried a short distance, and as
he had a sled with him he would give
the boy a quarter if he would assist him.
Consent being given, he led this boy
away some two miles to a shed, entered
and made the boy strip to the skin, tied
him up, took his knife, stuck it into
each cheek, drawing it away looking at
the point to see the blood, then caused
the little fellow to don his clothing,
placed him on his sled, and drew him to
the boy’s own door and left him. Anoth
er boy he enticed into a boat house,
made him strip, and then tortured him
for an hour or more by sticking pins in
to his flesh to the depth of from a quar
ter to half an inch, and this hundreds of
times, threatening to kill his victim upon
the least outcry, finally releasing him
and seeing him safely home. One thing
is inexplicable—how did he dare to re
turn with his little victims to their very
doors, unless it was, as he says, that “ he
didn’t know what he was doing.”
A DIME NOVEL READER.
Pomeroy has been a close reader of
dime novels and yellow covered literature
until, as one of tne gentlemen stated in
his argument before the Council, “ his
brain was turned, and his highest ambi
tion was to be the Texas Jack of South
Boston.”
—About forty years ago, John Casey,
then a poor boy, left his home in Ireland
to seek his fortune in the New World.
He went West, worked along with a
single eye to business (the other was
blind), attended strictly to his neighbor’s
affairs, fostered the saloon interest, and
List Friday he was triumphantly hanged
in the presence of one of the largest
concourses of peopled to grace an im
portant event in the career of a fellow- !
citizen. Who says this is not the poor j
man’s country?
Cholera infantum is becoming an
alarming epidemic among children.
VOL I—NO. 42.
ALL SORTS.
In the parish of St. James, Louisiana,
lately, two negroes were tried for mur
der. They had a jury of their own color
and stripe. The Sheriff* of the county is
also a pure blooded Senegambian, and a
very willing sort of an officer. The jury
went out, after the charge, to find a ver
dict, and were locked up in a room for
it. The Sheriff had the key, and the
court adjourned. The next morning
when the court convened the Judge
inquired after the jury. The Sheriff
said they had found a verdict and
fi? n a* * v t^em out > supposing
the State had no further use for them
and he had agreed to deliver their ver
dict, Not guilty.” It was all right. He
had not turned the prisoners loose too
because the jailor was pig-headed and
would not accept his authority. The
Judge was quiet, but got very red. There
is no other way but to go all over that
trial again. The Sheriff thinks there
ought to be*an amendment of the jurv
system. J
Two eloping couples from Kentucky
were to be married at Casey ville, 111. the
other day, and when they went before
the parson some dozen of‘their friends
men and women, “stood up” with them!
lhe clergyman who performed the cere
mony, the Rev. R. W. Jeffries by name
married the whole crowd in this fashion :
Gentlemen and ladies, do you agree to
take those standing bv vour sides as vour
lawful husbands and wives ?” to which
they all nodded. The parties who offi
ciated as groomsmen and bridesmaids
were terribly surprised when they ascer
tained that not only the eloping couples
but themselves also had been joined in
the indissoluble bonds of matrimony.
A dispatch from Dresden, Ohio, an
nounces that Robert Stickney, the cele
brated rider and acrobat of Robinson’s
Circus, accomplished last Saturday even
ing at that place the extraordinary feat
of turning a double somersault over twen
ty-four horses. Hitherto the greatest
number of horses over which “ a double”
had ever been turned was eighteen, and
the event is excitiug much talk among
circus men. Uncle John Robinson of
fers to wager that no other man living
can turn even a single somersault over
twenty-four horses. Certainly the feat
of Stickney deserves record iu acrobatic
annals as the most marvelous iu circus
history.
i have before me, says a writer, heads
of wheat grown on the eastern side of the
Mississippi, within ten miles of Mem
phis, from grains taken from an ancient
Egyptian sarcophagus sent, some years
a g°> by the American Consul at Alexan
dria to the Patant Office at Washington.
The stalk and leaves are very like those
of Indian corn, though smaller, and the
heads or grain like that of sorghum or
broom corn. Strange but true it is that
this very wheat, degenerate but perfect
in all its incidents, still grows among the
weeds and grass that cover the mounds
in the lowlands eighteen miles below
Memphis.
&alt Lake City can’t be a good town
for a circus. Queen’s circus had to pay
SIOO per day license for showing, and
this was but a small part of the tax.
Brigham Young and Daniel H. Wells
exacted family tickets good for three
day o and nights. They wanted 170 tick
ets for their family, which at the regular
rates amounted to $5lO. Brigham Said
that this complimentary attention was
necessary if Queen wanted to do a thriv
ing business in his town, and Queen sub
mitted. The best part of the circus tent"
was partitioned off’ for the prophet’s
harem.
The Controller of the Currency desires
to retire all circulating notes of the de
nomination of five dollars of the follow
ing banks, the notes of that denomina
tion having been successfully counter
feited : The First, Third and Traders*
National Banks, Chicago; First Nation
al Bank, Paxton, Illinois; First Nation
al Bank, Canton, Illinois. National
Banks throughout the oountry are re
quested to return all notes of thase banks
of the denomination of five dollars to
the Treasury for redemption, and no ad
ditional issues ot this denomination will;
hereafter be issued to the banks.
The longevity of toads is again under
discussion, owing to a discovery made
near Orsay. In digging up a garden
some workmen unearthed some terra
cotta vases, which they at first supposed
to contain treasure. On breaking them,,
however, two live toads were found clad
in green velvet. This strange attire
showed that they must be at least 200>
years old, as an ancient treatise on magic
and demonology mentions that, at tne
beginning of the seventeenth century,
sorcerers dressed up toads in this man
ner for the achievement of certains
charms.
Thr land wires and aen cables have
now been extended so as to cover nearly
three-fourths of the circumference of
the globe. Were a cable laid under the
Pacific, the circuit would be complete.
Telegrams can now be sent from Hong
Kong, by way of India and England, to
San Francisco, and it was only within a
short time that a telegram, leaving Hong
Kong Tuesday morning, was received in
New York, Tuesday night, when it could
have been sent in a few minutes to Sam
Francisco had that city been ite destina
tion.
A sweet-potato item in the Mountain
Echo, from its tuneful lyre in Knox coun
ty .* John Chapel, who lives on Greasy,
in Harian county, has a sweet potato
weighing sixteen pounds. He keeps it
buried, and has taken slips from it for
seven years, and says it grows larger
every year.