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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 >