Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Selected Story. THE TIMELY WARNING. BY MAKYO. HALPINE. “Good-night, papa>” said a sweet childish voice. I looked down in surprise upon tlie little girl that was standing beside ray friend’s l knee,* for though this was our first meeting; after separation for some years, I had sup posed him lo l>e childless. ♦She had entered so noiselessly that until | she spoke, neither of us Jmd l>ecn conscious t>f tier v “Good-night, my daughter,” said my host, % smile of inSnile teuoerness softened his rather ste. n lectures, and holding out his arras a he. spoke. The child sprang quickly to the shelter of that broad breast, laying her soft cheek lovingly against his. As lie field her thus, stroking as tenderly as a mother might, the shining hair that mingled wLJh Ids own jetty locks, I thought that f had never seen a prettier picture. She was in bnn so petite, with features almost mfimtine in their delicacy of outline, he so strong and stately; her complexion wa' l exquisitely air, and her eyes of the so fur l bine, while his wore black and pierc ing, and hi-* race bronzed by the exposure to sun and'storm in- ide.ita? to his adventurous life. A in a'’oijly booking woman opened the doo*-, oair ing upou the threshold as if reluc tant to disturb them. As oon ag ray friend observed her, he arose, and blessing the child with a solemni ty and t''ud' > rns'is 1 had never witnessed in him before, di mi vied her. “Not your own daughter?” I jsaid, as soon a3 were hi. done. “No ; Ink I could not love her better if she was. She is Ihe moil precious of all ray earthly pos /T don, as well siie might be. My darling- little Kathie ! she saved my life.” ' What, that slender delicate child?” “Yes ; and when she was smaller and young er llun she is now.” “I will tell you how it w is,” added my friend, replying more to the eager inquiry in my eyes, hither than to anything I had said. “It is not a long story.” And pn diiug toward ihe a cut glass dish, of so,me quaint and curious pattern, filled with heavy clusters of grapes, my host settled himscb back in his easy chair, and commenc ed a q follows: About two years ago, import ant business called me to A , in the western part of Canada. Partly because I was more accus tomed 1o that kind of locomotion, and partly bo au e public conveyances in that section of the country were slow and uncertain, I started on horseback. I had been about a fortnight on my way, and was beginning to congratulate myself that I must be near the termination of my journey. it was near sundown, and the sky began to look aif a storm w r as brewing. I had ridden many hours through a rude, thinly sct.led country, and began to look anxiously about for some human habitation. It was, therefore, with a feeling of relief that I saw, a few rods ahead of me, what seemed to be a public house. It was so long since I had seen one that, in spite of its dark, dreary ap pearance, it had a pleasant look to me. There were neither trees nor any signs of vegetation around the house, in front of which a crazy looking sign was creaking in the wind that was rising and upon which could be seen a few letters of what was evidently meant for‘Man and Beast,’now nearly effaced by exposure to the weather. As I rode up to the door, I saw a stout middle-aged man sitting upon the rude porch, cleaning a gun. “Good evening, friend,” I said. “Can you tell me how far it is to the village of A?” fiie man awe me a quick, comprehensive glance, and then dropped his eyes. “It is a matter of eight miles, he replied: “just beyond Black Forest, the edge of which you can see from here.” ‘You had better not attempt it to night,” he added, as he saw I was hesitating as to -whether 1 had bettor stop or push ahead, now that I was so near my journey’s end. “There is a storm coming up ; besides, a good many travelers have been robbed in Black Forest lately.” ‘*l believe I won't risk it, then,” I said; for I have that about me that I shouldn't care to lose.’’ I recalled, afterwards, the sudden brighten ing of the landlord's eyes as I said this, but it was so brief that it made little impression upon me at the time. Remarking that his hostler had gone away on an errand, lie took charge of my horse, and taking my saddle bags in my Wiand, I entered the house. It consisted of a large hall, with a good sized room on either side. As soon as I stepped in, my attention was arrested by a lit 1 le'girl, in spite of her neglected appearance, one of the most perfectly lovely little crea tures that ever I saw. I learned afterwards that she was nearly nine, but so small and delicate was she, that she looked full three years younger. In one of the rooms was a large coarse featured woman, with a peculiar disagree able expression of countenance, engaged in some domestic duties ; the other was vacant, and entering it, I took a seat upon the settee. The little girl came and stood by the open door, fixing her large, earnest eyes upon me with a mournful intentness of expression that I never saw in any child before or since. I smiled and held out mv hand to her. To my surprise she came directly to me. Touched by this expression of confidence in an entire stranger, no less than by her ex ceeding beauty, I took her upon my lap. “You are not my papa,” she said, regard ing me with the same wistful look, “ but you look like him.” “Wh ere is your papa?” I inquired more for the sake of talking than because I cared to know. The child shuddered and turned pale. Just then Ihe landlord entered, lie frown ed as his eye fell upon the child and looked uneasy. “You must not trouble the gentleman,” he said in a voi ie whose harshness was in mark ed contrast to the smooth, oily tones he bad used in speaking tome. “Get down and go into the kitchen.” The "hild shrank, in mortal fear, from that look : and in spite of in}' detaining hand, slipped quickly from my knee and left the room. After partaking of a warm, substantial supper, I requested to be shown to my room, as I was desirous of taking an early start in the morning. The room into which the landlord took me, was an up one, of good size and comfortably furnished. L observed that there was only one window, and that one very small, and provided with shutters. As I was examining ray knapsack, with my back to the door, I heard a faint rustle, and turning, I saw the little girl I had observ ed below standing in the middle of the room, with an expression upon her countenance, which startled me as much as her unexpected appearance. “Are you going to stay here to-night?” she said, in a hurried whisper. “Yes,” I replied. “Won Id n't you like to have me?” “No, oh no,” she said witli the same look and tone, and shuddering as she spoke. I “This is a dreadful place. Du't stay !” If you do, they will kill you just as they did— ’ | “Kathie, Kathie!” screamed the harsh • voice oftiie landlord's wife, “come down here, ! this minute.” Kathie's eves dilated with terror; and turning, she glided from the room as quickly and noiselessly as she had entered. Listening, I heard angry voices below; then a sharp cry, ending in piteous sobs, which gradually died away, as if the child was conveyed to some distant part of the house. Filled with indignation and alarm, I open ed the door, with the intention of interfering ; but feeling upon second thought, how use less auj r such attempt would lie,in my present situation, I closed it and went to the window. I placed my hand upon the shutters ; the} r were iron, and firmly fixed into the case ment. It did not take me long to decide what to do. After examining my revolver, to see if it was all right, I took m3' traps and descend ed to the bar-room. The landlord started with an angry look when he saw me. “I have concluded to resume my journey,” I said, in as careless a tone as I could assume. “Please bring horse directly to she door.” “Every one to his fancy,” said the man, glancing sharply at me from the comer ofhis e> r qs ; “but I shouldn’t want to pass through Black Forest alone such a night as this.” “You forget my trusty friend here,” I said, touching my revolver significantly, as I spoke. The villain cowered ; for he saw in a mo ment, that I understood him. “I s'pose 3 r ou know your own business best,” lie muttered 8111101113% as he went out for 103” horse. It was witli feelings of joy that I found myself again in the saddle gloomy and lonc ty as was the wa3 r before me. Yet my thoughts reverted sadly to the sweet child, to wiiose timely warning I owed so much : and I determinrd to obtain a search warrant, and rescue her, if possible, from the cruel hands of those whom I felt could have no legal claims upon her. J noon shuck into the Black Forest, which was composed principally of fir and pine, and to whose dark foliage it doubtless owed its mime. Bnt soon the faithful creature that had never failed me before, began to halt, and finally became so lame as to be unable to proceed further. Suspecting some treachery, I dismounted. The sky had partially cleared, and the moon had risen, but she* gave only a fitful light, and had now entirely disappeared un der a cloud. But striking a match, I discov ered that two sharp pebbles had been skill fully inserted into one of the forehoofs, and which had been driven, with every step, fur ther into the bone. I succeeded in dislodging one, but the other defied all my efforts ; so tying the animal to a tree, I determined to proceed on foot. I had hardly done so when I heard sounds of horses’ feet along the road. I stepped back in the shadow of the tree, and looked in the direction whence it proceeded. I could just discern the outlines of two horsemen, who reined up within a few feet of the spot where I stood. I felt that the odds were greatly against me, but I was determined to sell my life dearly. “I shouldn’t s'pose his horse could have taken him any further,” said one of them, whose voice I instantly recognized as that of my late host. “Ilist! here is his horse,’’said the other, as an impatient movement of the animal bett ed his proximity. Just then the moon, emerging from a cloud, revealed my form distinctly, as I stood, with one finger on the trigger, watching for the first gleam of light, to make my aim sure. The landlord’s eyes fell directly upon me, and with a muttered curse he snatched a pis tol from his belt. But lie was too late ; there was a sharp whistle, followed by a dull, hea vy sound, throwing his hands upward, liefell forward upon his horse. As he fell, his pistol, which was at half cock, was discharged, to all appearances mor tally wounding his companion, who dropped instantly to the ground. But it seemed that this was merely a feint; for no sooner did he see that I was otf my guard that he fired. Fortunately he aimed too high, and the ball passed harmlessly over my head. I sprang forward, and after a brief strug gle succeeded in disarming him. Then per ceiving that the bone of his knee was shatter ed, making his escape impossible, I left him, and mounting the fine looking animal he rode, I resumed my journey. It was passed midnight when I reached A , and broad daylight when, accom panied by a magistrate, a posse of villagers, l returned to the scene of my night’s adven ture. The landlord lay just as he had fallen, his pale face turned up to the rays of the rising sun. The other villain hail managed to crawl away, but was soon tracked and secur ed. We then went in a bod}’’ to the tavern. There was no one in the house but the old woman, who, though she seemed at first a little startled by our entrance, manifested the most stolid indifference, even when'told of the fate of her husband. As she was be lieved to be accessory to his crimes, she was taken into custody. To my surprise and astonishment, little Kathie was nowhere to be found. It was in vain that I questioned the woman, endeav oring by alternate threats and bribes, to ob tain some clue to her fate ; she maintained a sullen silence, They had all gone, but I still lingered, thinking sadly of the dear child, whom I was constrained to fear in saving my life had lost her own, when I heard a faint "cry. I put my ear to the floor whence it seemed to proceed, and it was repeated. As quick as thought, I removed some straw that was lying upon the floor, revealing a trap door. I lifted it up, and there in a dark, damp, noisome hole, was poor little Kathie, almost fainting from terror. Myjoy in finding her you can well imagine ; and as for her, she clung to me as wc clin o, to the only friend we have. The man was tried and executed, the woman turning state’s evidence, lie con fessed upon the scaffold to the murder of a number of travelers, among whom was Kathie’s father. As soon as my littler protege was able to travel, I took her with me to the States. Though the ven' idea of parting with her was a painful one, a sense of duty induced me to write to her nearest male relative, an uncle, residing in Ohio, stating what I had as certained in regard to his brother's fate, and the singular Providence which had given his little niece so strong a claim upon m3 r love and protection. But he had a large family of his own ; and though he would have given a home to his brother’s child had she stood in need of it, upon learning the circumstances, very will ingly relinquished her to me. She has lived with me ever since, growing nearer and dearer to m3' heart ever3 r day. “So you perceive,” added my friend, in conclusion, “that I did not speak lightly when I said that little Kathie saved my life. And 1 have sometimes thought,” he added, his expressive eyes growing soft and misty as he spoke, “that she has done much toward making it worth the saving ; for never, until I felt the flinging of her little arms around my neck, did I realize the full import of those hoty words. ‘Of such is the kingdom of heaven.’” And as I looked upon him, and thought of the one great sorrow that had darkened his youth, turning to bitterness the sweet spring of domestic affection, and the life led since, so calculated to draw out the harsher and sterner part of his nature, I thanked God for the angel lie had sent to him, in the form of a little child. Studying Naturar Philosophy. Old Keyser found Cooley’s bo3 r standing in a very suspicious manner under his best ap ple tree, with a stick in his hand, and a cer tain bulgy appearance about his pockets. Having secured him firmly by the collar, Keyser shook him up a bit, and then asked him, sternly, what he was doing there. “ Ain't adoin’ nothin’,” said Cooley, “I came over yer to study.” “ That’s entirely too thin,” exclaimed Keyser. “ Yes, I did ; I come over 3 T er to study about Sir Isaac. We had it in our lesson. He was in an orchard and saw an apple fall, and that made him invent the ’traction of gravitation ; and I come 3 T er to see if it was so.” “It won’t do, sonny,” said Keyser. —“You’re too enthusiastic about Sir Isaac; and, besides, what were 3’ou going to do with that stick?” “ With this stick? This 3'er stick? What was I goin’ to do with this stick? Why, a bo3 ,p gave me this stick to hold for him while he went on an errand tor his aunt.” “ And where did that apple-core come from there on the ground?” “That apple-core? That one tying there? The birds is awful on apples this season. I saw a blackbird drop that there, an’ I says to myself, them birds are just ruinin’ Mr. Keyser s apples.” FACTS AND FANCIES. The dark age—the shady side of thirty. A poser for an oculist—a window-blind. What is stronger than a council of ten? A potent-eight. Some people at a crowded evening party had belles on their toes. Why is a proud girl like a music-box ? Because she is full of airs. When a kettle just begins to boil, is it's music that of a dull simmer ? Sometimes coal does not burn well of an evening, because it’s slate. A shoemaker alwa3 T s finishes his shoe at the beginning, and begins at the last. Women think all men are thieves. Well, the3 r may rob them even of their names. Better go to bed supperless than get up in debt. Curran, the barrister, was once asked b}' one of his colleagues, “Do 3 r ou see anything ridiculous in this wig ?” “ Nothing but the head,” was the repty. “ Old age is coming upon me rapidly,” as the urchin said, when he was stealing apples from an old man’s garden, and saw the owner coming, whip in hand. “Are 3 T ou the mate of the ship ?” asked an emigrant of the cook, who was an Irishman. “ No, sir,” was the repty; “ I am the man who cooks the mate.” “ 0, Tommy, that was abominable in you to eat your little sister’s share of the cake.” “ Why,” said Tommy, “ didn’t you tell me, ma, that I was always to take her part ?” The poet Rogers once observed to a lady : “ How desirable it is, in any danger, to have presence of mind !” “ Yes,” she quickly re plied ; “ but I would rather have absence of body.” “ How old are you ?” asked an English rail road conductor of a little girl whom her moth er was trying to pass on a half ticket. “ I'm nine at home, but in the train I am only six and a half.” An old lady, whose son was about to pfo eeed to the Black Sea, among other admoni tions, gave him strict injunctions not to bathe in that sea, for she did not want to see him come back a “ nigger.” Two gentlemen, one named Woodcock, the other Fuller, walking together, happened to see an owl. Said Fuller, “ That bird is very much like a woodcock.” “You are very wrong,” said Woodcock, “for it’s Fuller in the head, Fidler in the eyes, and Filler all over.” A wife wanted her husband to sympathize with her in a feminine quarrel, but lie refused, saying : “ I've lived long enough to know that one woman is as good as another, if not better.” “ And I,” retorted the exasperated wife, “ have lived long enough to learn that one man is just as bad as another, if not worse.” “Now, [then, children,” said a parish school-mistress, showing her children off on examination day, “who loves all men?”— “ You, Missus,” was the unexpected reply. Athletic sports for ladies—Jumping at con clusions, walking 'round a subject, throwing the hatchet, and, during the holidays, boxing the ears of troublesome young brothers. “ Division of labor.” First swell—“ Deuced hot, Fwank! Call a cab !” Second swell— —“ Tell you what, old fellow, you shout, and I'll hold up ’umbrellar. ’Get through it that way.” On Monday evening, his wife asked him where he was going, as she observed him putting on his overcoat. “I am going to sally forth," he replied ; and she warmly rejoined : “Let me catch you going with any Sally Forth.” THE FARM. Whose Brain Cost the Most, the Farmer’s or the Professional Man’s. We have no where else found the case more forcibly put than in the following, by a cor respondent of the excellent paper, the Herald and Mail, of Columbia, and then we know the writer to be a man who thinks and works, and who has pondered this subject till he fully apprehends its weight and influence ; and" it only requires time for all to read, think and understand, and realize its force as he does, to see a complete change of public sen timent, which shall revolutionize the educa tion, workings and interests of the great mass of producers and elevate them and make the whole country more generous toward each other, mutually interested and prosperous. The great fact stated by the writer can be illustrated and proven in various ways. The farmer whq toils for forty years gathers knowl edge and experience costing more labor, weariness and anxiety than the education of any other professional man costs ; and then the avowedly professional man charges ten times as much for his advice and work as the farmer does; and in case of a dispute as to a fee, professional men are called in to saj r what is right, while the old farmer has to abide by the professional decision whether it be for or against him. We wish every one could and would read and ponder these things, for all should understand and appre ciate their full force, lie says : I have often heard the remark in mingling among the peo ple, that lawyers, physicians, teachers and ministers, should have more pay for their labor than a farmer, because it had cost them more time and money to prepare themselves to do the work; or, in other words, their brains cost them more than the farmer’s. Of all the professions, trades and callings, the farmer pays the dearest price for liis knowledge, lie never errs in judgment but it costs him something. If he does not pre pare his soil properly, and reap in due sea son, he is the loser. Every day develops some new idea. The change of seasons, the uncertainty of the weather, and many like incidents, all tend necessarily to change his programme of operations. He can have no chart by which he can regulate his business. His movements are upon the spur of the mo ment, depending entirety upon circumstances that he has no control over. If he fails to adapt himself to all these breakers and there by steer clear, it is at Ins 1 own expense and cost. No reward, no income for his expend ing labor. These difficulties are presenting themselves before him every day—nay, even every hour, and there is no remedy by which he can correct them, except at a heavy cost. Think for one moment—his soil washed away by the rains ; bis teams gradually giv ing away ; his laborers employed at labor not remunerative ; his farming implements wear ing away ; insects destroying his crop ; dry weather parching up old mother earth ; either too dry or too wet, too hot or too cold ; storms of wind sweeping over his crop and laying it waste ; —these are only a few of the difficul ties that the farmer's brain has to encounter and overcome, and that at a heavy outlay of time, labor and money. His occupation can only be followed during the day, and not like those of the professions, who can make as good progress at night as in the day, in pre paring to succeed in their vocation. Besides this, the lawyer may lose his case from igno ranse or carelessness, and still he receives his fee ; the physician may not succeed in over coming the disease of his patient; the teach er may fail to inculcate his text books in the minds of his pupil; the preacher may send a soul to perdition by teaching false doctrines ; the editor may lead his readers to adopt measures to overturn the government; —yet they are all remunerated for their labor in dollars and cents. It is through the labor of the farmers that the muscles and brains are produced in all the professions. They are the foundation, the chief corner stone, yea the very mud sill, upon wnich the success, the prosperity and happiness of mankind depend. If, then, their mission is so necessary, so important, so noble, why not let them rise up in the scale of superiority which nature and God has intended for them, and take their posi tions on the top round of the ladder of fame. It is the farmer’s own fault that he does not rule and govern the world. He has the numbers, he has the wealth, lie has the intel ligence, and all he has to do is to have confi dence in himself, and but reach forth in his might, to take possession of his prize.. The “Father of his Countty’ was a tiller of the soil. What he did you can do. Then, being the benefactors of your race, arouse your selves to the importance of your strength and ability, and show to the rest of mankind that you are equal to the emergency of the times, in uprooting the false idea that your brains are not as valuable as the brains of men who belong to what are called the “learn ed professions.” —Rural Sun. Preparing Ground for Turnips. A crop of good turnips is quite convenient, and now is not a bad time for sowing seed in some places, and getting land in first rate order in other latitudes. The turnip is a plant that grows rapidly in rich soil well cul tivated after a few weeks start. Manure, wood ashes and superphosphates generally pay handsomely on this crop. It is bad econ omy to sow turnip seed on poor land without some fertilizer. Manure in the drill is much better than no manure. No turnip patch is better than one fertilized by yarding sheep on the ground. Stock of any kind may be used in a way to enrich a few acres by their droppings every year. Woods, pastures and outlying fields can supply on many farms a great deal of fertilizing material to improve all the land near the homestead. Cattle, horses, sheep and hogs l ave legs and feet to walk a mile in the morning to their grasiug ground, and back in the evening. They are living machines for the cheap manufacture of manure, to carry and deposit it where it will do the most good. A great deal of valuable meat, milk, wool and horse-flesh can be man ufactured from grass, turnips, beets, carrots, corn, cow-peas, clover and alfalfa. We believe in roots, but in other crops as well. The true policy is to make every rood of land do its best for the thoughtful fanner.—Nash ville Union <s• Amer. 5? A new farm Yearly,— The Rural Adver tiser, for June, in remarking on the various fertilizers used by farmers says there is one unfailing source of supply within reach of every farmer. This is found in deep plow ing and a proper pulverization of the soil. In other words, “depth of soil beneath their crops and fertilizing atmospheric gases above them.” By plowing an inch deeper every year, anew farm, so to speak, is obtained. Of course there is a limit to this, but the trouble generally is, that but few persevere till they reach it. —Maryland Farmer. Indian corn contains 23 pr. ct. potash, 22 pr. ct. soda, and 4 pr. ct. sulphur acid. SUNDAY READING. Beyond the Stars—What I *Tis easy to trace the soul to the hour That deprives the form of its breath; But who shall follow the spirit's flight, When it seeks the portal of death ? Who rend the vail that hides from our view The future, beyond the bright stars ? Who follow- the spirit’s upward flight, When it breaks through our earthly bars ? What —ah ! what is that futile state ? And w here, oh w-herc is the goal Which Christians say is the resting place And home of the deathless soul ? Is it beyond the dark blue sky— Beyond where the stars now shine ; Where the angels sing their song of praise - To the spirit of God divine ? Can life be the end of all our hopes? Is the struggle with death all o'er? Or is there a life beyond the tomb, Where the soul lives evermore? Does the soul exist when life has flown, Or sink, like the corse, into night? Let us rather believe the brilliant mind Still continues its upward flight. Let us think that the soul can never die— That its mission will never end: That there is a land beyond the sky. Where friend will still meet friend ; That, freed from the turmoil and ills of life, From its troubles, wounds and scars, The soul will worship the God of Light In His mansions “ beyond the skies.” - Warm Weather Christians. Dr. Cuyler, in the Evangelical, writes of warm weather Christians. Among other things, he says : “ When the glass gets above ninety, the inward emotions are congealed and piety is “■ past feeling.” Tliis is the species of Christian professors who spend the Sabbath hours fanning themselves on their piazzas wheii their pastor goes by on his way to his and their sanctuary. It is not too warm for him to preach, but it is too warm for them to listen. He has toiled through one or two severe summer daj r s to prepare a discourse for their souls ; they are unwilling to go and sit for half an hour as the recipients of ‘ the’ truth as it is in Jesus/ What must the world think of such a religion ?” How many earn est, hard-working clergymen there are in the land who echo Dr. Cuyler’s sentiments. It is, indeed, a matter of which the pillars of the church should be ashamed, that they should suffer their minister to conduct sen-ice amid the heat and discomfiture of a summer Sunday, while they, with coat and vest off. slippers on, and suspenders down, recline in their back yards under the wide-spreading branches of the umbrageous apple tree, with a refrigerator within reach. If there is ever a time when professors of religion need spiritual check and guidance, it is in the sum mer time. There are so many very excellent church members who leave their religion to the care of the stay-at-home pastor, while they, in some distant watering place, give their “ desires and passions” a seabreeze air ing, very detrimental to the moral health.— The thermometer is a great regulator of re ligious fervor.— Courier-Journal. Judge Not. We have no right to judge others until we know all of the circumstances that influence their conduct. In many cases we might act like those we condemn under like circum stances. A young man Employed in a printing office in one of our large cities incurred the ridicule of the other compositors on account of his poor clothes and unsocial behavior. On sev eral occasions, subscription papers were pre - sented him for various objects, but he refused to give his money. One day a compositor asked him to con tribute for a pic-nic party, but was politely refused. “ You are the most niggardly man ever employed in this office,” said the compositor, angrily. “ Stop,” said the young man, choking with feeling. “ You have insulted me.” . The other compositors gathered around the excited men. The 3'oung man looked at them for a few minutes with a famished look, and a strange fire in his large eves. “ You little know,” he said, “ how unjustty you have been treating me and accusing me. For more than a 3 r ear I have been starving m3-self to save money enough to send m3 r poor blind sister to Palis to be treated by a physician who has cured many cases of blind ness similar to hers. I have always done my duty in this office, and have minded my own business. I am sacrificing everything in life for another. Would either of you do as much ? Could any one do more ?” He had been judged without a knowledge of circumstances. Be slow to censure and condemn. We cannot read the hearts of others, and in many cases, to know all is to forgive all. “ Judge not, that 3 r e be not judged.”— Youth's Companion. Liberty to Speak Out- Spurgeon, at the Congregational Breakfast, gave vent to the following: “If I have a man's friendship, I will only have it on the terms that he will allow me every now and then to cudgel him, on the understanding that he should also be at liberty to cudgel me. I believe these are times in which we must all speak out what we believe, and of course we have all our own ways of speaking it. It must not be said, ‘ You shall be silent on that point, and not speak upon the otherbut, ‘ You shall speak, each of 3'ou, just as you please ; and if someone of you is a little ill mannered, and cannot speak as well as oth ers, yet on shall be borne with and pitied, but 3'ou shall afterwards still be forgiven.’ ” Thou Shalt Not Steal. This means more than that we must not take what belongs to others—we must also take care of the property of others. A boy’ once ran half a mile trying to stop a stranger whose trunk was in danger of being lost from the carriage. That was according to the eighth commandment. Farmer Bolt turned the cattle out of neigh bor Ileck’s field, fixed the fence a little, and then left word at the house. And this was according to the commandment. Go thou and do likewise. Truth. Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it out; it is always near at hand, sits upon our lips, and ready to drop out before we are aware ; a lie is trouble some, and sets a man’s invention upon the rack, and one trick needs a great many more to make it good. It is like building upon a false foundation, which continually stands in need of props to shore it up, and proves at last more chargeable than to have raised a substantial building at first upon a true and solid foundation. Never part without loving words to think of during y-our absence. It may be that 3 r ou will not meet again in life. Have the courage to own that y r ou are poor and thus disarm poverty of its sting. FOREST NEW® CLUB RATES! To those wishing to get up Clubs, the j lowing liberal inducements are offered: For Club of Five Subscribers, . 4 “ “ “ Ten “ . j/i i “ “ “ Twenty “ - jjj With an extra cop3' of the paper to the son getting up the last named Club. THE CASH MUST ACCOMPANY ALL CUB QRQ^ EdPTo any person furnishing a Club Ten responsible subscribers who will n& v the Fall, ail extra copy of the paper wfij given. County ami totou directory JACKSON SUPERIOR COURT, Hox. GEO. D. RICE, - - . J(l> EMORY SPEER, Esq., - - Sol. COUNTY OFFICERS. WILEY C. HOWARD, - - - - OrdiJ THOS. 11. XIBLACK, Clerk S.W JOHN S. HUNTER. Sh - WINN A. WORSHAM, - - - Deputy LEE J. JOHNSON, ----- l'nW JAMES.L. WILLI AMSON, - - Tax Colty GEO. W. BROWN. “ Rcceiv, JAMES L. JOHNSON, - - County Sury, WM. WALLACE, - - - GW G. J. N. WILSON, County School Commk Commissioners (Roads and Seymour, W. J. Haynie, W. G. Steed. Mott the Ist Fridays in August and November. T. Niblack, Esq., Clerk. MA CIS TRA TES AND BAIIIFF*. Jefferson District, No. 245, N. 11. Penderm J. P. ; 11. T. Flecman, J. P. John M. Burr Constable. Clarkesbo.rough District, No. 242, F. M. R, day, J. P.; M. B. Smith, J. P. siiller’s District, No. 155, H. F. Kidd, .J. p. j Chandler’s District, No. .24(1, Ezekiel Hewir J P.; .J. G. Barson, J. P. Randolph’s District, No. 248, Pinckney' Pirklc, J. P.; Jas. A. Straynge, J. P. Cunningham r s District. No. 428, J. A. But, ton. J. P.; T. K. Randolph, J. P. Newtown District, No. 253, G. W. O'KelTv, P.; T. J. Stapler, Not. Pub. & Ex. Off. J,p. Mmnish's District, No. 255. Z. W. IIooJ J.fj Harrisburg District, No. 257, Win. M. Wort J. P.; J. W. Pruitt, J. P. House's District, No. 243. A. A, Hill, j. P, BantafeO District. No. 1042, W. R. Boyd, 'J.fj S./G. Arnold, J. P, Wilson's District, No. 40/), W. J. Cointy J.fj FRA TERN A L 1)IR ECTOR )\ Unity Lodge, No. 30, F. A. M., meets Ist Tn*- j day-night in each month. 11. W. Bell, W. U I John Simpkins. Sec'y. Love 1 judge. No. 05, L ,0. O. F., meets on ffl ,and 4th Tuesday nights in each month. j man, N. G.; G. J. N. Wilson, Sec'y. Stonewall Lodge. No. 214. f. O. G. T i, meet- Saturday night before 2d and 4th Sundays in e* month. J. P. Williamson, Sr., W. C. r l’.; J. Lffl Pendergrass, W\ It. S. Jefferson Grange, No. 488, P. of 11., i I Saturday before 4th Sunday in each month. Jiei K. Randolph, M.; G. J. N. Wilson. Sec’y. Relief (colored) Fire Company. No. 2, meets 1 ftli Tuesday night in each month. Henry Li. § Captain; Ned Burns, Sec’y. Oconee Grange, No. 301. meets on Saturday fore the first Sunday in each month,, at Galilei. | 1 o’clock, P. M. A. C’. Thompson, W. M.; L’jl Bush, Sec'y. 00 UNTY CHURCH DIRECTOR T. WET! (ODIST. Jefferson Circuit. —Jefferson, Harmony Grwß Dry- Pond, Wilson's, I Lolly Springs. W.A.f.S ris. P. C. Mulberry Circuit. —Ebenezcr, Beth lei Tom, ('• I cord. Centre and Pleasant Grove, Lebanon. A. 1 Anderson, P. C. Chapel and Antioch supplied from W&fkfrfl ville Circuit. PRESBYTER I AX. Tliyatira, Rev. G. 11. Cart!edge.Pastor; §* I Creek, Rev. Neil Smith, Pastor; Pleasant Gw | Rev. G. H. Cartledge, Pastor; Miiqroh, KtwJ 1 Smith, Pastor. BAPTIST. Cabin Creek, W. It. Goss, Pastor; lLarin | Grove, W. B. J. Hardeman, Pastor; Zion, K< 1 W. 11. Bridges. Pastor; Bet hah ra. Rev. J. | Davis, Pastor; Academy. Rev. J. N. Coil. Pat; $ Walnut. Rev. J. AT. Davis. Pastor; (.’root® Creek, W. F. Stark, Pastor; Oconee Church J I A. J. Kellev, Pastor; Poplar Springs. Rev. | A. Brock, Pastor; Handler's Creek, W.F.Stufl Pastor. PROTEST ANT M KTHODIST. Pentecost, Rev. It. S. McGarrity, Pastor. 44 CHRISTIAN.” Bethany Church. Dr. F. Jackson, Pastor. Christian Chapel, Elder W. T. Lowe, Pastor. | Galilee, Elder P. F. Lamar, Pastor. FI RST UN I VERSA LIST. Centre Hill, Rev. B. F. Strain, Pastor; Cb® f I meeting and preaching every third Saturday* 1 Sunday. JEFFERSON BUSINESS DIRECTORY. PROFESSIONS. Physicians... J. D. & 11. J. Long, J. J. h’ tor, N. W. Carithers, Atty’s at Law... J. B. Silman, W. I. •J. A. li. Maharfey, W. C. Howard, M. M. Pitm P. F. Hinton. MERCHANTS. Pendergrass & Hancock, F. M. Bailey, Stw' & Pinson, Wm. S. Thompson. MECHANICS. , j Carpenters ...Joseph P. Williamson, Sen •J. P. Williamson, Tr. Harness Maker... John G. Oakes. Wagon Makers... Wm. Winbum, Mon f Ray, (col.) Buggy Maker...L. Gilleland. Blacksmith...C. T. Story. Tinner... John 11. Chapman. Tanners. ..J. E. AH. J. Randolph. | Boot and Shoe-Makers... X. B. Stark, | horn M. Stark. HOTELS. Randolph House. "by Mrs. Randolph. North-Eastern Hotel, by John siinpktE Public Boarding House, by Mrs. Worsham. Liquors, Segars, Ae...J. L. Bailey. 1 Grist and Saw-Mill and Gin...J. D* * | •J. Long. Saw-Mill and Gin...F. S. Smith. o 1 COUNTY SCHOOL DIRECTORY, i Martin Institute. —.J. W. Glenn, Principa l P. Orr, Assistant; Miss M. E. Orr, A***l Miss Lizzie Burch, Music. Centre Academy. —L. M. T.vle, Principal. Galilee Academy. —A. L. Barge, Principal- y Harmony Groce Academy. —R. S. Cheney, | cipal. _ I Mark Academy. —J. 11. McCarty, PTincipa*;J| Oak Grove Academy —Mrs. A. C. P- | Principal. . , 1 Academy Church. —J. J. Mitchell, Duke Academy. —Mrs. 11. A. Deadwyler. ‘ ■ cipal. . 1 1 Park Academy. —Miss V. C. Park. Prinop 1 § Chapel Academy. —W. H. Hill, Principal’ I Holly Spring Academy —W. P. NewniaiV I ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OFMjjM Athens mail arrives at Jefferson on “S-I days and Saturdays, at 10 o’clock, A. | parts same days at 12 o'clock, M. . j,, Gainesville mail arrives at Jefferson on days and Saturdays, at 11 o'clock, A. M. * n I parts same days at 12 o'clock, M. Lawrencevillc mail arrives at Jefferson on ■ M days, at 12 o'clock, M, and departs same a) I o'clock, P. M. n e|§ F. L. Pendergrass, Dcp’yL* I