Newspaper Page Text
tlie |)oct s Corner.
“It’ll Neber Come No Mo’.”
The following:, from the pen of Mrs. F. (i. De-
Fontaine, of Charleston. S. C. r will touch a ten
der chord in every Southern heart:
Pse been waitin’ loop for de good old time
I)at r ll nebber come n©> mo T ANARUS;
When I used to work, an T rock an’ sing
In de little cabin do*.
My Sam was dar wid dis fiddle,
Po’ Sam—he’s gone—done dead f
Dead for de want ob food an’ clothes.
An’ de shelter ober head. . -
Ar#' little Mosc, well, he’s dead, too ;
How he used to dance an’ sing.
While Jim. an’ Polly, an’ all de res’,
Went rouu* an* roun’ de ring; f
Die Missis—bless her dear ole soul-
W ould lalf till her sides gib way.
An’ Massa'd stop at my eab Ml JPil t ■ 1 1
To say : “ How’s Old Mammy to-day?’’
De boys—l mean Ole Maasa'a boys—
Dey lubbcd 010 Mammy, too,
Who nussed ’em, eb'ry blessedone,
Clean down to little Mass’ Loo.
Po’ Massa Loo ! he went to fight,
But he nebber come back rto mo’ r
Wc heard dat he fell wid a hall in de breast
In front of de battle roar.
He’d put his arms aroun’ my neck
An’ say : l * Mammy, I love von so !”
He didn't see no harm in dat.
Do his Mammy was black au’ po.’
Ole Missis died wid a broken
When de las' ob de boyswf*; kilhxl,
An’ Massa bowed his head an’ cried,
Dat his cup ob sorrow was filled.
An’ yere I’ve sot awaitin’ an’ watchin’
For de good time cornin’ no mo’,
An' I see Ole Missis acalbn' Mammy
Across from de odder sho.’
STORY DEPARTMENT.
THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE.
A STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME.
Now, when the rusty records of the past
are being ransacked for relics of song and
story, in order that these antique gems may
embellish the garments of the present, and
serve to heighten the pride we naturally feel,
as Americans, in the wonderful progress of
our country, since first it took its station
among the powers of earth, it may not be in
opportune to submit a little historically true
sketch of a romance, which found room, bud
ded and blossomed, in the heart of one of
Massachusetts’ earliest Governors, proving
that no matter how full and earnest may be
the purpose that inspires the heart and life
of the most zealous, the “ tiny god” can ever
find room to set up his banner, on which is
transcribed in letters of light, “ Veni, vidi ,
vici”
'William Bradford, who became second
Governor of Massachusetts, after the melan
choly death of Governor Carver, (who soon
slept by the side of his wife and only child,)
was born at Ansterfield, Yorkshire, England.
March, 1588. llis father and mother died
when he was quite young. lie was tenderly
cared for by his grand-parents, and subse
quently by au uncle, llis family was among
the yeomanry of England, and very respect
able. lie was reared to agriculture. When
quite young he assumed the care of his own
landed estates, and enjoyed his occupation in
cultivating and beautifying them ; and, though
much of his time he was busy with his men
in tiie field, he still found opportunity to be
quite a student. He became proficient in the
Latin, Greek and Hebrew languages, and was
familiar with the German and French, which
lie spoke fluently. He had embraced the
faith of the Puritans, and at seventeen years
of age he was one of the company who made
an etfort to escape to Holland in search of
religious liberty, but was unsuccessful, hav
ing been betrayed, and was for a season con
fined in prison, at Boston, Lincolnshire, (from
which the city of Boston received its name.)
But though religion and other momentous
subjects claimed his attention and seemed to
engross all his mind, there was one, less grave
but not less potent, that permeated his whole
being, and gave to his life a halo of bright
ness. Love had taken possession of the heart
of young Bradford ; and often when he seem
ed most engrossed in his books, the golden
curls and soft blue eyes of Alice Carpenter
were all he saw. His lauds joined to her
father’s, and they had been playmates and
companions in childhood, he being but a few
years her senior. As time passed rapidly
away, and she grew into womanhood, her
sunny curls turning to a soft chestnut brown,
she only became to the earnest, honest heart
of William Bradford, more dear and more
beautiful; and yet he said nothing to her of
the deep and earnest passion which he never
forgot, even in his sleep, till one evening in
autumn, they had been enjoying a long and
pleasant conversation, leaning over the hedge
that divided their lands, when Alice told him
she was soon to go to London, to reside with
a relative. This was a very sad announce
ment to him.
The Carpenter family had, in former time,
received the title of knighthood, but they
were comparatively poor, and William deter
mined to know his fate and ask Alice of her
haughty old father, hoping his own worth and
broad lands might induce the father to ac
cept him as a suitable match for his portion
less daughter. But he was mistaken. He
had never before had occasion to fathom the
pride of the strange old man. Ilis religious
belief alone would have been a sufficient bar
rier, had there been no other, and he was
haughtily dismissed. There was a last sad
meeting of the lovers across the hedge that
night, and the moon looked down on two
heavy hearts and two tearful faces, as they
both turned to their homes, the one to wet
the pillow with her tears, the other to walk
his room in bitter repinings at the fate which
seemed to be settling on his life in clouds and
thick darkness, forgetting, for the time, to
listen to the still, small voice which was whis
pering, “ Come unto me, all ye that are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest.*’
Alice was hurried off to London, and after
a few years was married to Mr. Southworth,
a man of wealth and honor. Mr. Bradford
sought alleviation from his disappointment in
his books and farm, and subsequently mar
ried Dorothy May, a woman of his own rank
and persuasion, who proved a genial and
faithful companion. Aftdr a few years, we
find them abandoning their pleasant home,
for he was one of the first advocates for the
removal of the little band of Puritans to
America ; and the next we see them upon the
tempestuous ocean, in the cabin of the May
flower. After arriving in Cape Cod harbor,
Mr. Bradford set out with a small party to
explore the coast, and, on returning, was
pained and afflicted to find that during his
absence his wife, Dorothy, had fallen from the
ship and was drowned. He deeply mourned
her loss, for she had proven a good wife, and
they were mutually attached. He bore this
second disappointment of his life with Chris
tian fortitude. He had no leisure to sit and
brood over his grief, for life with him was
now a warfare with cold and hunger, for he
shared in all that the colonists suffered. It
is well known to any child of history, how
they struggled with disease and savage ene
mies.
Mr. Bradford was now over thirty years of
age, a man of rare- pfety ami dignity of man
ner ; and a few months after their arrival,
Governor Carver dying, he was elected Gov
ernor of the little colony, a petition he ably
filled for more than thirty years. And while
with fatherly eare he tenderly watched all tlie
interests of th t e little colony, there was a blank
in hirf household, and noftc knew better than
himself liow he realized the need of woman’s
ready sympathy, and he was often annoyed
at his own inability to keep his thoughts from
wandering across the ‘‘deep blue sea.” The
Jove he had cherished for Alice had never
died out of his heart. True, it had been sleep
ing. and while the husband of another, had
never wished himself other than he was ; but
now that they both frj&e —for Alice, too,'
was left alone—lie often said Id himself, “ I
wonder if she rememliers the love of her
youth: and even if stur-dhl, would she not
think it too great a sacrifice to share his
fortunes in the wildernesd ?”
Men are not like women, and will not wait
a life time without knowing their fate when
it can be decided by a single word. So he
resolved to write and ask Alice, and in the
Spring of 1623, the letter was sent across the
Atlantic. He faithfully set before her all the
privations and sacrifices she would be called
upon to endure, saying as an equivalent for
this he had only the love of an honest heart
to offer her, and requested her, if she thought
favorably of his proposal, to take passage in
the first ship that would sail for America, as
he was too occupied to come over to England
for her, fearing the colony might suffer during
his absence.
Time, always so heavy-footed to the wait
ing, passed slowly to the Governor; but late
in August, a tiny sail was seen in the dis
tance. It was the ship that contained so
much of interest to many, but none waited
with such almost breathless anxiety as did
Governor Bradford, for it was to contain Alice
or her letter of refusal. The whole town
crowded to the landing, and when the vessel
reached the shore many went on board, and
the Governor passed from one to another of
the new-comers, telling them how welcome
they were ; but a close observer would have
seen that the restless wanderings of his eye
were indications that something was unsatis
fying. She was nowhere to be seen, and he
tried to say cqlmly, “It is God’s will, and I
will try and be happy without her; there will
at least be a letter for me.” He turned to
ask for one, when he met, coming from the
cabin, a matronly-looking woman. He seem
ed to have forgotten that while time was
hastening him to maturity, that Alice, too,
might be changed ; he had always kept her
in mind as the fair, frail girl of many years
ago, and here she was. the beautiful, stately
woman. She, too, probably, had her surprise,
for the two stood looking at each other, when
“William!” “Alice!” were uttered simul
taneously, and the two, so long kept asunder,
met, never to be parted by man’s decree again.
They were married at once. There was no
display, but that without which all outward
show is but as “ sounding brass or a tinkling
cymbal,” the joy of two faithful hearts. They
lived long and happily together ; thirty-four
years longer did he prosperously guide the
affairs of the colon}', tho*i died ; his wife sur
vived him several years. She was well edu
cated, refined, and much beloved, and did
much in assisting her husband in the improve
ment of the rising generation, and was sin
cerely lamented when she died.
FACTS AND FANCIES.
“Sure pop”—champagne.
Musical piracy—stealing a march.
A deliberative body—a slow man.
Sweetness and light—a love match.
Fruits for balloonists—currents in the air.
The musquito’s bugle hath a horrid sound.
When is an egg not oval ? When you turn
it round.
Chickanery—palming off an old hen as a
young chicken.
Why is the sun like a good loaf? Because
it’s light when it rises.
Babies are described as coupons attached
to the bonds of matrimony.
The alligator that swallowed a corset is
dead. It stayed on his stomach.
The pic-nic season and spiders and bugs
will soon join the invisible host.
If a man won’t act on the square, the best
thing is to deal roundly with him.
Whenever the President appears in a sa
loon the waiter sings out, " Ale to the Chief.”
A Council Bluffs doctor hangs out a sign
inscribed “Dr. H. O. Greeno, Medico Elec
trico.” O!
“Cold streaks playing tag down my back,”
is the way a little Ypsilanti (Mich.) girl de
scribes the approach of an ague chill.
Why is a pig the most provident of ani
mals ? Because he always carries a spare
rib or two about him.
A girl’s first season she is all Faith, the
second all Hope, the third all Charity*, after
that tlie Deluge.
A Milwaukee editor has had returned to
him a book borrowed twenty-seven years ago,
and begins to have hopes of humanity after
all.
“How odd it is,” said Pat, as he trudged
along on foot, one sultry day, “that a man
never meets a cart going the same way as
he is!”
Eugene—“ Come, sit down on the shelly
shore, and hear the mighty ocean roar.”—
Amelia—“ I can't sit down, you silly goose,
because I’d burst my pin-back loose.”
In reply to a young writer who wished to
know “ which magazine will give me
highest position quickest ?” a contemporary
advises “ a powder magazine, if you con
tribute a fiery article.”
“You never saw my hands as dirty as that,’’
said a mother reproachfully* yesterday to her
little eight-year-old girl. “’Cause I never
saw you when y*ou was a Ijttle girl,” was the
prompt reply.
An old lady, whose son was about to pro
ceed 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.
A lady, who had on her upper lip something
approaching a mustache, lately called on an
officer and his wife, whose merry little boy
happened to be present at the time. In the
course of conversation the little fellow inquir
ed what he must do to get hair on his lips.
“ Why, rub it against papa’s,” was the reply.
“ Oh, mamma,” he said, “ is that the way Miss
has got her’s ?”
THE FARM.
WHY SAM SIMPSON SOLD OUT.
My neighbor, Sam Simpson, has sold out
and is going West. There has been a plain,
honest, industrious, economical German—
Hans Leibenstein—hanging around Simpson
for sometime, trying to purchase his farm.
At last Hans got it. Simpson thinks he sold
it at a bargain. Doubtless, Hans thinks he
got it at a bargain, I had an errand down
to Simpson’s the other night, I had not
heard that he had sold his farm ; but upon
my entrance into the house, I saw by the
look on the faces of the family, that some
unusual excitement was animating them,
“Well, Crumple, you’re going to lose me
for a neighbor,” was Simpson’s first words
after I had got settled in the splint-bottomed
chair his daughter Sally handed me ; and the
whole Simpson family looked at me as if they
expected I would jump out of the chair on
account of the news, with a suddenness and
force only equalled by an explosion of nitro
glycerine under me, but I didn’t. I simply
asked, “How’s that ?” “I’ve sold.” “Sold
what?” “Thefarm.” “To whom?” “Hans.”
That was the whole story. I didn’t need
any further explanation; but Simpson pro
ceeded to say:
“You see the old farm is completely run
out. I can't make the two ends meet the
best of years. I’ve got tired tumbling around
among the stones, and I’m going where there’s
some virgin soil that will produce something ;
so I struck up a trade with Hans. He has
been after it, off and on, for a year or more.
I wanted S4O per acre for the old place. He
offered me $25; finally, he offered me S3O,
and, after considering the subject, I told him
I would take it if he would pay me cash down.
Hadn’t any idea he would do it; but he said
if I would throw in the stock and farm imple
ments he thought he could raise the money.
I finally told him I would, and what do you
think, sir ? He hauled out of his greasy old
pants pocket, a SI,OOO bill and handed it to
me to bind the bargain, and said as soon as
the papers were receipted he’d pay me the
balance, which he has done to-day. I feel
kind of sorry to part with the old place ; but
the thing is done and there’s an end on’t!
What d’ye think ?”
All this time my Crumple nature had been
rising within me like an inspiration. Here
was this man Simpson who had inherited his
farm—one of the finest in the neighborhood
—who had skinned it without scruple, until
it would scarcely raise white beans under his
system of treatment. And he had got to
leave or mortgage the farm of his ancestors
to live on.
Then here was Hans, who came into the
neighborhood with his frau, five years before,
with only his wife’s strong and willing hands,
economy and industry. They had rented a
worn-out fann which they finally purchased
and paid for, and had saved $3,000 with which
to pay for Simpson’s one hundred acres. So
in answer to “ What d’ye think ?” I was ready
to respond, and did it in this wise :
“What do I think ? I’m glad you’re going
neighbor Simpson ! I’m glad Ilans has got
the farm. He deserves it; you don’t. He
has got brains and industry ; you haven't got
either. Under your management the farm
is a disgrace to the neighborhood ; Hans will
make it a credit. Your farm lying next to
mine depreciates the value of mv land ten
per cent; the same land owned by Hans will
add to the > alue of mine twenty per cent. I
shall be the richer for your going and the
poorer for your staying. I’m glad you’re
going.”
You should have seen Simpson and his
family’s faces. They grew cloudy and long.
Indeed, I believe they began to scowl at me.
Simpson said :
“You’re pretty rough on an old neighbor,
Crumple, now that he is going. I thought
you and I had always been friends. I've
tried to be a good and accommodating neigh
bor. You’ve been a good one to me, and
I’m sorry to leave 3*oll if you’re glad I’m
going, I’m not sony either.”
“Simpson.” I said, “let us understand
each other. Asa neighbor, so far as neigh
borly intercourse is concerned, I’ve no fault
to find, and am sorry you are going. In
talking about 3*oll as a farmer, you arc and
alwa3 r s liave been a poor one. No man with
such a farm as 3 r ours ought to want to sell—
at least there ought to be no necessity for
selling. But you are not a farmer. You
haven’t got a single quality essential to make
a good farmer. In the first place you detest
the business; you don’t take an3 r pride or
interest in it; you don’t care whether your
land improves under cultivation or not; you
want to get all off of it you can, without
taking the trouble to pay anything back;
you skin it year after year, and cry out
against the seasons; you denounce every
man 3*oll deal with as a sharper or a swindler,
because 3*oll do not get the prices for 3*our
products other people do, and y*et you do
not seem to know that the reason is that
your products are poor in qualit3 r , and put
on the market in miserable shape ; your stock
has been running down ever since your father
died; 3*oll haven’t built anew fence and
scarcely repaired an old one; your manure
has not been hauled out aud judiciously used
on the farm ; your pigs have bothered 3*our
neighbors more than they have benefited you ;
y*our cattle have become breads, and I have
had to shut them up in my stables in order
to keep them out of my grain ; 3*oll have dis
tributed from your fence corners more weed
seed than any* farmer I know of, and thus
given your tidy neighbors more trouble than
your favors to them would compensate. In
short it is time for 3*oll to move. You ought
to have a virgin farm ! It will take 3*ou but
a few years to strip it of its fertile*; then
you’ll have to move again, and keep moving.
You belong to a very large class of farmers,
who are a curse to any country. The fact is,
you are not, never was, and never will be a
farmer in the right sense of that word. You
are 011I3* a guerilla. You live by* robbery—
robbery* of the soil. And it is not right
neighbor Simpson. You had better seek
some other vocation, now that 3*oll’ve got the
the cash to start with. You like horses ; y*ou
can talk horses from day*light till dark ; you
can’t be fooled with horses ; you like to trade
horses ; 3*oll had better go into some smart
town and start a livery* stable. You’ll make
money* at it; you’ll never make money farm
ing, you’ll grow poorer and poorer the longer
3*oll attempt it.”
Just then Sally Simpson clapped her hands
and said : “That’s so, father! haven’t I told
3*ou so ? Mother and I have often talked it
over Mr. Crumple, and y*ou are just as right
as can be; and father knows it too, if he
would say so. I know 3*oll too well (and
you’ve done us too many kindnesses for us
to ever forget them) to believe that you have
talked to father in the way* y*ou have out of
any unkind feeling. It is true, every word
of it, father, and y*ou ought to thank neigh
bor Crumple for talking just as he thinks ; I
do, and I don’t think the less of him either.”
LADIES’ COLUMN.
Sensible Advice to Girls.
Give them a good education. Teach them
to cook a nourishing meal. Teach them how
to wash and iron, darn stockings, sew on but
tons, to make their own dresses and a decent
shirt.
Teach them how to bake bread, and that
an orderly, well kept kitchen saves many
drugs and medicines. Teach them that a
dollar is worth one hundred cents, and that
only he saves who pays out less than he re
ceives, and that all who pay out more have
to become poor.
Teach them that a paid for calico dress fits
better than a silk for which they have run in
debt.
Teach them that, a round, full face is worth
more than fifty consumptive beauties; teach
them to wear good, strong shoes.
Teach them how to make purchases,
to calculate whether the bill corresponds.—
Teach them that they only spoil the image of
God by tight-lacing. Teach them sirfiple
sound sense, self-confidence, self-reliance and
industryf . } j.
Teach them that an honest mechanic in
shirt sleeves and apron, even without a pen
ny, is worth more than a dozen richly dress
ed and aristocratic idlers. Teach them to
cultivate gardens and wild flowers, the joys
of free nature. And jf have the means,
teach them music, drawing and all arts, but
remember that these are not necessary.
Teach them that taking walks is healthier
than taking, rides, and that the wild flowers
are very beautiful to those who look at them
attentively.
Teach them to despise all mere glitter, and
that if one saj r s yea or no, he should really
mean it.
Teach them that happiness in matrimony
depends neither upon outside appearance nor
the purse of the man, but upon his character.
Have you taught them all this, and they un
derstand it, then, when their proper time
comes, let them marry in good faith, and they
will get along by themselves.
Courtesies to Parents.
Parents lean upon their children, and es
pecially their sons, much earlier than either
of them imagine. Their love is a constant
inspiration, a perrenial fountain of delight,
from which our lips may quaff and be com
forted thereby. It may be that the mother
lias been left a widow, depending on her only
son for support. He gives her a comfortable
home, sees that she is well clad, and allows
no debts to accumulate, and that is all. It
is considerable, more even than many sons
do, but there is a lack. He seldom thinks it
worth while to give her a caress ; he has for
gotten all those affectionate ways that kept
the wrinkles from her face, and made her
look so much younger than her years ; he is
ready to put his hand in his pocket to gratify
her slightest request, but to give of the abund
ance of his heart is another thing entirely.—
He loves his mother ? Of course he does!
Are there not proofs enough of his filial re
gard ? Is he not continually making sacri
fices for her benefit ? What more could any
reasonable woman ask ?
Ah, but it is the mother-heart that craves
an occasional kiss, the support of your youth
ful arm, the little attentions, and kindly
courtesies of life, that smooth down so many
of its asperities, and make the journey less
wearisome. Material aid is good so far as it
goes, but it has not that sustaining power
which the loving, sympathetic heart bestows
upon its object. You think she has outgrown
these weaknesses and follies, and is content
with the crust that is left; but you are mis
taken. Every little offer of attention, }*our
escort to church, or concert, or for a quiet
walk, brings back the youth of her heart; her
cheeks glow, and her eyes sparkle with pleas
ure, and oh, how proud she is of her son !
Our Girls.
It is a study worthy of an artist to look at
a group of our Southern girls sitting and
talking together in any public assembly or
private evening party.
There is the girl of only fifteen or sixteen
years of age, so much genuine grace and ease,
dignity and self-possession of manners, that
it astonishes while it pleases. They know
exactly how to smile the polite smile of con
strained attention ; the happy smile of pleased
attention ; the sweet smile of glad welcome
to some fortunate arrival, and the polar smile
of iced dignity on one who intrudes upon a
favored companion in a tete-a-tete.
We reflect; do these sweet and happy faces
carry their sweetness and happiness into the
home circle? Is it smiles or fretfulness
there ? The first duty of politeness is to be
polite at home. The first law of amiability
is amiability to father and mother, brother
and sister. The most beautiful charm that
can adorn character, is the charm of a tender
reverence, a sweet affability, loving sympathy,
a polite and graceful demeanor in the privacy
of the home circle.
BP'S he was a stylish young lady about
eighteen years old, and to accommodate a
friend she took the baby out for an airing.—
She was wheeling it up and down the walk
when an oldish man, very deaf, came along
and inquired for a certain person supposed
to live on that street. She nearly yelled her
head off trying to answer him, and he looked
around, caught sight of the baby and said :
“ Nice child, that. I suppose you feel proud
“ It isn’t mine,’’ she yelled at him.
“ Boy, eh ? Well, he looks just like you.”
“It isn’t mine,” she yelled again, but he
nodded his head and continued :
“ Twins, eli ? Where’s the other one ?'*
She started off with the cab, but he follow
ed and asked:
“Did it die of colic ?”
Despairing of making him understand by
word of mouth, she pointed to the baby, at
herself, and then shook her head.
“Yes—yes, I see, tother twin’s in the
house. Their father is fond of them, of
course!”
She turned the cab and hurried the other
way, but he followed and asked:
“ Do they kick around much nights ?”
“ I tell you ’taint mine,” she shouted, very
red in the face.
“ I think you’re wrong there,” he answer
ed, “children brought up on the bottle are
apt to pine and die.”
She,started on a run for the gate; before
she had opened it, he came up and asked:
“ Have to spank them once in a while, I
suppose ?”
She made about twenty gestures in half a
minute, and he helped the cab through the
gate and said :
“Our children were all twins, and I’ll send
my wife down to give you some advice. You
see ”
But she picked up a flower-pot and flung it
at him. He jumped back ; ,as • she entered
the house he called out:
“ Hope insanity won’t break out on the
twins.”
ONLY ONE DOLLAR!
SAVANNAH WEEKLY IHORNING NEWS.
WILL be sent to any address six months for
ONE DOLLAR, This is one of the cheap
est weeklies published. It is not a blanket sheet
in which all sorts of matter is promiscuously
thrown. It is a neatly-printed four-page paper,
compactly made up, ana edited with great care.
Nothing of a dull heavy character is admitted into
the columns of the Weekly. It is an elaborate
ly compiled compendium of the best things that
appear in the Daily News. The telegraphic de
spatches of the week are re-edited ana carefully
weeded of everything that is not strictly of a news
character. It also contains full reports of the mar
kets; thus, those who have not the advantage of a
daily mail, can get all the news, for six months,
by sending One Dollar to the publisher; or for one
year by sending Two Dollars.
The Daily Morning News is the same reliable
of public ©pinion that it has always been—
vigorous, thoughtful and conservative m the dis
cussion of thelissues of the day, and lively, spark
ling and entertaining in it# presentation of the
news. In gathering and pubfishing the latest in
formatirin arid in diScussirig questions of public
policy, the Mojnjing News is fully abreast of the
most enterprising journalism of the times.
Price, sloffor 12 months; $5 for 6 months.
Thfe Tri-Weekly News has the same features as
the Daily News. Price, $6 for 12 months; $3 for
6 months.
Money fbr either paper can bo sent by P. O. or
der, registered letter or Express, at publisher's
risk.
The Morning Mews Printing Office
Is the largest in the state. Every description of
Printing done at the shortest notice. Blank
Books of all kinds made to order. Book Binding
and Ruling executed with dispatch. Estimates
for work promptly furaished.
Address all letters, J H. ESTILL, Savannah
Ga. July 31
Useful Information for the Millions.
——o
A note dated ©n Sunday is void.
A note obtained by fraud, or from one intoxi
cated, cannot be collected.
If a note be lost or stolen, it does not release
the maker; he must pay it.
An endorser of a note is exempt from liability if
not served with notice of its dishoner within
twenty-four hours of its non-payment.
A note made by a minor is void.
Notes bear legal interest except when otherwise
stipulated.
Principals are responsible for their agents.
Each individual in a partneship is responsible for
the whole amount of the debts of the firm.
Ignorance of the law excuses no one.
It is a fraud to conceal a fraud.
The law compels no one to do impossibilities.
An agreement without consideration is void.
Signatures in lead-pencil are good in law.
A receipt for money is not legally conclusive.
The act off one partner bind all the others.
Contracts made on Sunday cannot be enforced.
A contract made with a minor is void.
A contract made with a lunatic is void.
To ascertain the length of day and night.—At
any time in the year, add 12 hours to the time of
the sun’s setting, and from the sum substract the
time of rising, for the length of the day. Subtract
the time of setting from 12 hours, and to the
remainder add the time of rising the next morn
ing, for the length of night. This rule is true of
either apparent or mean time.
DOMESTIC POSTAGE.
Newspapers, Magazines, and Periodicals
sent from a known office of publication, or by
newsdealers 1 ' to actual subscribers, postage to be
prepaid in bulk by publishers and newsdealers, at
office of mailing, and go free to subscribers.
Letters 3 cents each } oz.; Drop Letters at let
ter-carrier office, 2 cents ; Drop Letters at non
letter-carrier offices, 1 cent.
; Transient matter embracing newspapers,
circulars, and matter, seeds, cuttings,
bulbs, roots and scions, books, merchandise arid
samples, 1 cent for each oz. Registered Letters
8 cents in addition to regular postage.
Post-Office Money Orders. —Attention is
called to the Money Order system, as a safe ami
cheap method at?.transmitting mouey through the
mails. Orders are issued in sums of not more
than fifty dollars. Larger soms can bo
transmitted by additional Orders. On Orders not
exceeding $lO, 5 cents ; over $lO and not exceed
ing S4O, 20 cents; over S4O and not exceeding SSO,
25 cents.
TJSfcFIfL TABLE EOR FARMERS.
4 inches make one band.
56 lbs. Corn make one bushel.
56 lbs. Rve make one bushel.
60 lbs. Wheat make one bushel.
60 lbs. Clover Seed make one bushel.
196 lbs. Flour make one barrel.
200 lbs. Beef or Pork makes one bbl.
32 lbs. Oats make one bushel.
60 lbsj Potatoes make one bushel.
14 pounds make one stone.
3 miles make one league.
G feet make one fanthom.
A perch of stone is 16. J feet long, 1 £ feet thick,
and 1 foot high, or 24$ cubic feet.
A mile is 320 rods—l,76o yards—*►,*2Bo feet—
-63,360 inches.
An acre is 4,840 square yard—l3,s6o square
feet—6,272,640 square inches.
RURAL DIVINITIES.
Fi,oa —The goddess of Flowers.
Pan —The god of Shepherds and Hunters; fa
mous for his whistling which fatigued him so much,
that he invented pipes to blow on.
PLUTUS —The god of Riches; represented with
wings.
Pomona—The goddess of Orchards and Fruit
trees.
INTEREST RULES.
For finding the interest on any principal for any
number of days. The answer in each case being
in cents, separate the two right hand figures of
answer to express in dollars and cents :
Four per cent.—Multiply the principal by the
number of days to run ; seperatc right-hand figure
from product, and divide by 9.
Five per cent.—Multiply by number of days,
and divide by 72.
Six per cent.—Multiply by number of days,
seperate right-hand figure, and divide by 6.
Eight per cent.—Multiply by number of ttys,
and divide by 45.
Nine per cent.—Multiply by number of days,
seperate right-hand figure, and divide by 4.
Ten per cent.— by number of days,
and divide by 36.
Twelve per cent.—Multiply by number of days,
seperate right hand figure, and divide by 3.
Fifteen per cent. —Multiply by number of days,
and divide by 24.
Eighteen per cent.—Multiply by number ofdays,
seperate right-hand figure, and divide by 2.
Twenty per cent. —Multiply by number ofdays,
and divide lay 18.
Twentv-four per cent.—Multiply by number oi
days, ana divide by 15.
A Useful. Table.—To aid farmers in arriving
at accuracy in estimating the amount of land in
different fields under cultivation, the following ta
ble is given by an agricultural cotemporary:
Five yards wide by 978 yards long contains one
aero.
Ten yards wide by 484 yards long contains 1
acre.
Twenty yards wide by 242 yards long contains 1
acre.
Forty yards wide by 121 yards long contains 1
acre.
Eighty yards wide by 10$ yards long contains 1
acre.
Seventy yards wide by 60$ yards long contains
1 acre.
Two hundaed and twenty feet wide by 198 feet
long contains 1 acre.
Four hundred and forty feet wide by 90 feet
long contains 1 acre.
Eleven feet wide by 398 feet long contains 1
acre.
Sixty feet wide by 726 feet long contains 1
acre.
One hundred and twenty feet wide by 363 feet
long contains 1 acre.
Two hundred and forty feet wide dy 181$ feet
long contains 1 acre.
COUNTING.
12 units are one dozen.
12 dozen one gross.
20 units one score.
3 scores one hundred.
FOREST NEWS
CLUB RATES!
To those wishing to get up Clubs, the f
lowing liberal inducements are offered • *
For Club of Five Subscribers, . *
“ “ “ Ten “ . *.!■£
“ “ “ Twenty “ .
With an extra copy of the paper to tL
son getting up the last named Club. ***
THE CASH MUST ACCOMPANY ALL CLUB orders
BPTo any person furnishing a Club
Ten responsible subscribers who will p* y
the Fall, an extra copy of the paper wi!j
given.
doimtu and Uoitut Sircctoru.
■ aviLfoitf—.-ifchri •. - t n 4^
JACKSON SUPERIOrTcourT. "
Hon- geo. D. rice, - - . Jo ,
EMORY SPEER, Esq., - . So) |
COUNTY OFFICERS.
WILEY C. HOWARD, - - - . Ordin-
THUS. H. NIBLACK, - - - Clerk S S
JOHN S. HUNTER,
WINN A. WORSHAM, - - - Demitv -
LEE J. JOHNSON, - - . - .
JAMES L. WILLIAMSON, - - Tax CollcTi
GEO. W. BROWN, “ Rece *
JAMES L. JOHNSON, - - County Survey r
WM. WALLACE, - - _ (jS:
G. J. N. WILSON, Comity School Commas,-,
Commissioners (Roads and
Seymour, W. J. Ilaynie, W. G. Steed. Meet
the Ist Fridays in August and November. T li
Niblack, Esq., Clerk. “
MAGISTRATES AND BAILIFFS.
Jefferson District, No. 245, N. 11. Pender®*:
J. P.; 11. T. Fleeman, J. P. John M. BM
Constable. f
Clarkesborough District, No. 242, F. M. HaIIII
dav, J. P.; M. B. Smith, J. P.
Miller’s District, No. 455, H. F. Kidd, J. p.
Chandler's District, No. 246, Ezekiel Hew-itt fl
J. P.; J. G. Brirson, J. P.
Randolph's District, No. 248, Pinckney p
Pirkle, J. P.; Jas. A. Straynge, J. P.
Cunningham’s District. No. 428, J. A. Brazle. E
ton, J. P.; T. K.Randolph, J. P.
Newtown District, No. 253, G. W. O’Kelly, J I
P.; T. J. Stapler, Not. Pub. & Ex, Off. J. p' t
Minnish’s District, No. 255, Z. \V. Hood, J. P I
Harrisburg District, No. 257, Wm. M. Mornt [
J. P.; J. W. Pruitt, J. P.
House’s District, No. 243, A. A. Ilill, J. P.
Santafee District, No. 1042, W.R. Boyd, J ? 1
5. G. Arnold. J. P.
Wilson’s District, No. 465, W. J. Comer, J.p, 1
FRATERNAL DIRECTORY.
Unity Lodge, No. 36. F. A. M., meets Ist Tu. I
day night in each month. 11. W. Bell, W. M,,
John Simpkins, Sec'v.
Love Lodge, No. 65, I. O. O. F., meets on M
and 4th Tuesday nights in each month. J. B. So
man, N. G.; G. J. N. Wilson, Scc'y.
Stonewall Lodge, No. 214, T. O. G. TANARUS., meets on
Saturday night before 2d and 4th Sundays in eack;
month. J. B. Pendergrass, W. C. TA NARUS.; Miss Mi
ry F. Win burn, W. R. S.
Jefferson Grange, No. 489. P. of 11., meets w
Saturday before 4th Sunday in each month. Jas.
E. Randolph, M.; G. J. N. Wilson, Sec’y.
Relief (colored) Fire Company, No. 2, meets on |
4th Tuesday night in each month. Henry LR|j,l
Captain; Ned Burns, Scc’y.
Oconee Grange, No. 391, meets on Saturday b-1
fore the first Sunday in each mouth, at Galilee, it |
1 o'clock, p. M. A. C. Thompson, \V. M.; Ll'.l
Bush, Sec'y.
COUNTY CHURCH DIRECTORY.
METHODIST.
Jefferson Circuit. —Jefferson, Harmony Grove,
Dry Pond, Wilson's, Holly Springs. \\\ A.ftir-
TIS, P-
Mulberry Circuit. —Ebonezor. Bethlehem, Cot-®
cord.-Centre and Pleasant Grove, Lebanon. A.L
Anderson, P. C.
Chapel and Antioch supplied from Watkins
ville Circuit.
f _ . URKSRYTERIAX.
Thyatira, Rev. G. 11. Cartledge, Pastor; Sandy
Creek. Rev. Neil Smith, Pastor; PleasantGim
Rev. G. 11. Cartledge, Pastor; Mizpah, Rev..\u
Smith, Pastor.
BAPTIST.
Cabin Creek, W. K. Goss. Pastor; llbdw*jß
Grove, W. B. J. Hardeman. Pastor; Zion, Erl
J. M. Davis, Past.; Bethabra, Rev. G. L. Bagvrt 1
Pastor; Academy*, Rev. J. N. Coil, I ) a>nrl
Walnut, Rev. J. M. Davis. Pastor; Crook!
Creek, W. F. Stark, Pastor: Oconee Church, Eft
A, J. Kelley, Pastor; Poplar Springs, lkv.fi-
A. Brock. Pastor ; Handler’s Creek, W. F. Start,*
Pastor ; Mountain Creek, W. H. Bridges, Pastor.||
PROTESTANT METHODIST.
Pentecost, Rev. R. S. McGarrity, Pastor.
“ CHRISTIAN.”
Bethany Church, Dr. F. Jackson, Pastor.
Christian Chapel. Elder W. T. Lowe, Pastor, 1
Galilee, Elder P. F. Lamar, Pastor.
FIRST UNI VERS AIjIST. I
Centre Hill, Rev. B. F. Strain, Pastor; Chun-1
meeting and preaching every third Saturday tf- H
Sunday.
JEFFERSON BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
PROFESSIONS.
PHYSICIANS...J. D. & 11. J. Long, J. J
ter, N. W. Carithers, J. 0. Hunt. I
A tty’s at Law... J. B. Silman, W. I. U I
J. A. B. Mahatfcy, W. C. Howard, M. M. Pitna” §
P. F. Hinton, R. S. Howard.
MERCHANTS. o 1
Pendergrass & Hancock, F. M. Bailey, Stan-. ■
6, Pinson, Wm. S. Thompson.
MECHANICS. 1
Carpenters... Joseph P. AVilliamson, I
J. P. Williamson, Jr.
Harness Maker... John G. Oakes. I
Wagon Makers... Wm. Winburo,
Rav. (col.)
Buggy Maker...L. Gilleland.
BLACKSMITH...C. T. Story.
Tinner... John 11. Chapman.
Tanners...J. E. &H. J. Randolph. ~ 1
Boot and Shoe-Makers...N. B. Stark, J
Forest News office; Seaborn M. Stark, ovt. |
S. Thompson's store.
HOTELS.
Randolph House, by Mrs. Randolph. I
North-Eastern Hotel, by* John Simp vi
Public Boarding House, by Mrs. F' ,za |
Worsham.
Liquors, Seoars, &c...J. L. Bailey. ■
Grist and Saw-Mill and Oin...J- j> -
J. Long.
Saw-Mill and Gin...F. S. Smith.
COUNTY SCHOOL DIRECTOR?'. M
Martin Institute. —J. W. Glenn, Pnncip- . J
P. Orr, Assistant; Miss M. E. Orr, Assi*
Miss Lizzie Burch, Music. _ . ,
Centre Academy. —L. M. Lyle, Principal
Galilee Academy. —A. L. Barge. Prineip* 1 ■ M
Harmony Grove Academy. —R. S Cheney, I
cipal. . . i |
Murk Academy. —J. H. McCarty, Prine'ffijii.H
Oak Gr,ove Academy —Mrs. A. C • 1 • u 1
Principal. ’ ‘ .
Academy Church. —J. J. Mitchell. 1 r ', nC
Duke Academy.— Mrs. 11. A. Deadwymh I
cipal. _ . ’I
* Park Academy. —Miss V. C. Park, I rniff* j
Chapel Academy. —W. 11. Hill, PrinC'P*
Holly Spring Academy —W. P. Newnia
o (j/jH
ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE 01
Athens mail arrives at Jeffbrson on l
days and Saturdays, at 10 o’clock, A.
parts same days at 12 o’clock, M. \Vedr**’ 1 H
Gainesville mail arrives at Jefferson on B
days and Saturdays, at 11 o’clock, A.-
parts same days at 12 o’clock. M. I
Lawrenceville mail arrives at Jefferson ( ■
days, at 12 o'clock, M, and departs same
o’clock, P. M. , p. >1 I
F. L. T><T >