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SUNDAY READING-.
NO SECTS IN HEAVEN.
A DKMMUjPH A.N M.l> ENGLISH POE*.
Talking of sects till late one eve.
Of the vari<m* doctrines the saints believe,
That night l in a troubled dream,
It}* the side of darkly flowing stream.
And a Ckvrrhman down to the river came ;
When 1 heard a Grange voice call his name.
Good father atop ; when you cross this tide.
You must ytmr robes on the other side.”
But the flared father did not mind.
And his long gown floated on behind.
As down to the stream his way he took.
His pale hand clasping a gilt-edged hook.
** I'm bound for heaven, and when Pm there,
1 shall want my hook of Common Prayer ;
And though I put on a starry crown,
I shall feel quite lost without my gown.”
Then he fixed his eyes on the shining track,
But his gown was heavy and held him hack,
And the poor old father tried in vain
A single step in the flood to gain.
1 saw him again on the other side.
But his silk gown floated on the tide ;
And no one asked in that blissful spot.
Whetlier he belonged to “ The church* ’ or not.
Then down to the river a Quaker strayed,
His dress of a sober hue was made;
“ My ot and hat must he all of gray,
I cannot any other way.”
Then he buttoned his coat straight his chin,
And staidly, solemnly waded in ;
And his broad-brimmed hat he pulled down tight
Over his forehead so cold and white.
But a strong wind carried away liis hat;
A moment he silently sighed over that,
And then, as he gazed on the further shore
Ilis coat slipped oil and was seen no more.
As he entered heaven his coat of gray
Went quietly sailing away—away.
And none of the ainrels questioned him
Ab<>ut the width of liis heaver’s brim.
And after him, with his MSS..
Came Wesley, the pattern of godliness,
But he cried, 44 Dear me. what shall I do?
The water has soaked them through and through.”
And there on the river, far and wide,
Away they went down the swollen tide.
And the saint astonished, passed through alone,
With his manuscripts, up to the throne.
Then gravely walking, two saints by name,
Down to the stream together came,
But as they stopped at the river's brink,
I saw one saint from the other shrink.
44 Sprinkled or plunged, may I ask you, friend,
llow you attained to life's great end?”
“ Thus, with a few drops on my brow,”
44 But I have been dipped, as you'll see me now."
“And I really think it will hardly do.
As I’m ‘close communion,’ to cross with you ;
You're bound, I know, to the realms of bliss.
But you must go that way, and I’ll go this.”
Then straightway plunging with all his might,
Away to the left, liis friend to the right,
Apart they went from this world of sin,
But at last together they entered in.
And now when the river was rolling on,
A Presbyterian church went down ;
Of women there seemed an innumerable throng,
But the men I could count as they passed along.
And concerning the road, they could never agree,
The old or the new way, which it should he ;
Nor ever a moment paused to think
That both would lead to the river's brink.
And a sound of murmuring long and loud
Came up from the moving crowd,
** You’re in the old wav, and I’m in the new,
That is the false and this is the true.”
Or, “I’m in the old way, and you're in the new,
That is the false and this is the true.
But the brethren only seemed to speak,
Modest the sisters walked and meek,
And if ever one of them chanced to say
What troubles she met with on the way,
How she longed to pass to the other side,
Nor feared to cross over the swelling tide,
A voice arose from the brethren then :
“ Let no one speak hut the holy men ;
For have you not heard the words of Paul,
4 Oh, let the women keep silence all?’ ”
I watched tlvem in my curious dream,
Till they stood by the border of the stream,
Wheu, just as I thought, the two ways met,
But all the brethren were talking yet.
And would talk on, till the heaving tide
Carried them over side by side;
Side by side, for the way was one,
The toilsome Journey oi life was done—
And all who in Christ the Saviour died,
Came out alike on the other side.
No forms, or crosses, or books had they.
No gowns of silk or suits of gray ;
Noicreeds to guide them, or MSS.,
For all had put on Christ's righteousness.
CHURCH SLUMBERERS.
Concerning a certain class of slumberers
in the church, Rev. W. T. Whitmarsh
pointedly says:
Jonah in the storm, Peter, James and
John at Gethsemane, have their counterparts
in the churches now. As there are drones
in ever}- hive, and -‘idlers” in every crew, so
are there sleepers in every church. Ido not
mean those who close their natural eyes in
slumber, and who, because as they tell ns
they “can hear best with eyes shut,” seem to
regard the announcement of the text as a
signal to compose themselves to sleep. We
have such among us now and then. The
church officer of olden time, who walked
about the church armed with a wand having
at one end.a knob, aud at the other a fox’s
brush, and whose duty it was to arouse the
slumberers, the men by a blow on the head
with the knob, the ladies by tickling their
noses with the brush, might occasionally find
opportunity for the display of his attention
now. But I speak not of such slumberers,
but of another and different class, of some,
indeed, who think they are widely awake !
These brethren and sisters pro/ess to hava
given themselevs to Christ! to be no longer
their own, but liis; and yet, alas! we see
little or no proof of it in their actions ! Real,
true, self-denial, they know nothing of.
They are surrounded by neighbors going
down to hell, and they never expostulate
with them. A perishing world calls out for
help, for Bibles, for teachers; and while
pretending to respond to to the call, they
dole out such pittances that they check the
liberality of many, and make the liberal gifts
of the noble few amount to so small an aver
age per head, that we blush to contemplate
it. Their plea is, that providing for their
own religious enjoyments exhausts then
means. Day by day they live and work,
but it is for themselves and not for God ;
they are active in the store, on the farm, or
at the caucus, and then having exhausted all
their energy, they come to the church of God
to rest, to sleep. They give, but it is what
they can spare and without missing it.
A Place of Refuge.—Our Lord Jesus
Christ is a place of secure refuge for every
soul that flies to Him. The moment a sinner
believes in Jesus he is safe, and continuing
to believe he remains safe in life, safe in death,
safe in judgment, safe in eternity. The pass
ing out of self-righteousness into confidence
in Christ is the act that saves the soul. When
thy faith doth layjits hand upon the dear head
of the Redeemer, what if I say upon the horns
of the altar of his sacrifice, then is thy soul
secure and nothing can destroy it.
It is when to-morrow’s burden is added to
the burden of to-day, that the weight is more
than a man can bear.
THE BOYS' COLUMN.
A Thousand Boys.
In the New York Observer of December
4, 1X73. the following notice was printed :
A THOUSAND BOYS WANTED.
There are always boys enough in the mar
ket but some of them are of little use.. The
kind that are always wanted are —
1. Honest.
2. Pure.
3. Intelligent.
4. Active.
5. Industrious.
6. Obedient.
7. Steady.
8. Obliging.
9. Polite.
10. Neat.
One thousand first rate places are open for
a thousand boys who come up to this stand
ard.
Each boy can suit his taste as to the kind
of business he would prefer. The places are
read}* in every kind of occupation.
Many of these places of trade and art are
already filled by boys who lack some of the
most important points, but they will soon be
vacant.
One had an office where the lad who has
the situation is losing his first point, lie
likes to attend the singing school and the
theat re. This costs more money than lie can
afford, but somehow he manages to be there
frequently
-11 is employers are quietly watching to learn
how he gets so much spending money; they
will soon discover the leak in the money draw
er, detect the dishonest boy, and his place
will be ready for someone who is now get
ting ready for it by observing point No. 1,
and being truthful in all liis ways.
Some situations will soon be vacant be
cause the boys have been poisoned by read
ing bad books, such as they would not dare
to show their fathers, and would be ashamed
to have their mothers sec.
The impure thoughts suggested by these
books will lead to vicious acts; the boys will
be ruined, and their places must be filled.
Who will be ready for one of these vacan
cies ?
Distinguished lawyers, useful ministers,
skillful physicians, successful merchants,
must all soon leave their places for somebody
else to fill. One by one they are removed by
death.
Mind your ten points, boys ; they will pre
pare you to step into the vacancies in the
front rank.
Every man who is worthy to employ a boy
is looking for you if you have these points.
Do not fear that you will be overlooked.
A young person having these qualities will
shine as plainly as a star at night.
We have named ten points that go towards
making up the character of a successful boy,
so that they can be very easily remembered.
You can imagine one on each finger, and so
keep them in mind ; they will be worth more
than diamond rings, and you will then never
be ashamed to ‘show your hand.’
“Don’t Give Up, but Try.”
A gentleman, traveling in thenortherh part
of Ireland, heard the voice of children, and
stopped to listen.
Finding the sound came from a small build
ing, used as a school-house, he drew near ; as
the door was open, he went in, and listened
to the words the boys were spelling.
One little fellow stood apart, looking very
sad.
“Why does that boy stand there?” asked
the gentleman.
“Oh, he is good for nothing?” replied the
teacher. “There is nothing in him. I can
make nothing of him. He is the most stupid
boy in school.”
The gentleman was surprised at this an
swer. He saw that the teacher was so stern
and rough that the younger and more timid
were nearly crushed. After a few words to
them, placing his hands on the noble brow
of the little fellow who stood apart, he said:
“One of these days yolSway be a fine schol
ar ; don’t give up; try, my boy, try.”
The boy's soul was aroused. His sleeping
mind awoke. Anew purpose was formed.
From that hour he became anxious to excel.
And he did become a fine scholar, and the
author of a well known commentary on the
Bible; a great and good man, beloved and
honored. It was Dr. Adam Clarke.
The secret of his success is worth knowing :
“Don’t give up ; but try, my boy, try.”
A Capital Illustration.
Strike tiie Knot. —“ Strike the knot!”
said a gentleman to his son, who, tired and
weary, was leaning on his axe over a log
which he had in vain tried to cleave. Then
looking at the log, the gentleman saw how
the boy had hacked and chipped all around
the log without hitting it. Taking the axe
he struck a few sharp blows on the knot, and
split the log without any difficulty. Smiling,
he handed the axe to his son, saying:
“Always strike the knot!”
This was good advice. It is good for you,
children, as it was for the boy to whom it
was given. It is a capital maxim to follow
when you are in trouble. Have you a hard
sum to do at school ? Are you leaving home
to live for the first time ! Strike the knot!
Look your trouble in thseye, as the bold lion
hunter looks in the face of a lion. Never
shrink from a painful duty, but step right up
to it and do it. Y"es, strike the knot! Strike
the knot, boys and girls, and you will always
conquer your difficulties.
Juvenile Wit.
An old physician was declaring in our hear
ing the other day, upon the propriety which
a majority of people display for eating unripe
fruit and vegetables. Said he: “There is
not a vegetable growing in our gardens that
is not best when arrived at maturity, and
most of them are positively injurious unless
fully ripe.”
“I know one thing that ain’t so good when
it’s ripe as ’tis when it’s green,” interrupted
a little boy, in a very confident, but modest
manner.
“What’s that ?” sharpty said the physician,
vexed at having his principle disputed by a
mere boy.
“ A cucumber !” responded the lad.
The doctor winked at us with both eyes,
but said nothing.
An Important Age.
The line of conduct chosen by a boy during
the five years from fifteen to twenty will., in
almost every instance, determine his charac
ter for life. As he is then careful or careless,
prudent or imprudent, industrious or indolent,
truthful or dissimulating, intelligent or ig
norant, temperate or dissolute, so will he be
in after years, and it needs no prophet to
cast his horoscope or calculate his chance.
Help somebody worse off than yourself, and
you will feel better off than you fancied.
STORY DEPARTMENT.
THE TWO NEIGHBORS.
One evening as the twilight was dusking
into deeper shades, Farmer Weiton stood in
liis dooryard, with a gun in his hands, aud
saw a dog coming out from his shed. It was
not his dog, for his was of a light color, while
this was surely black.
The shed alluded to was open in front, with
double doors for the passage of carts, and a
wicket for pedestrians at the back: and this
shed was part of a continuous structure con
necting the barn with the house. Around
back of this house was the sheep-fold.
There had been trouble upon farmer Wel
ton’s place. Dogs had been killing his sheep
—and some of the very best at that. lie had
declared, in his wrath, that he would shoot
the first stray dog he found prowling around
his premises. On this evening, by chance,
he had been carrying his gun from the house
to the barn, when the canine intruder appear
ed. Aye, and in the barn he had been tak
ing the skin from a valuable sheep which had
been killed and mangled with tigerish fe
rocity. \
So, when he saw the strange dog coming
through his shed, he brought the gun to his
shoulder, and, with quick, sure aim, fired. —
The dog gave a leap aud a howl, and having
whisked around in a circle two or three times,
he bounded off in a tangent, yelping painfully,
and was soon lost to sight.
“ Hallo ! what’s to pay now, Weiton ?”
“ Ah —is that you, Frost?”
“ Yes. Been shootin’ somethin’, aint ye?”
“ I've shot a dog. I think,”
“ -s. I seed him scootin’ off. It was
Brackett's, I reckon.”
Before the farmer could make any further
remark, his wife called to him from the porch,
and he went in.
Very shortly afterward a boy and a girl
came out through the shed, as the dog had
came. Down back of Welton's farm, distant
half a mile or so, was a saw and grist mill,
with quite a little settlement around it; and
people having occasion to go on foot from
that section to the farms on the hill, could
cut off a long distance by crossing Welton’s
lot. The boy and girl were children of Air.
Brackett. When they reached home they
were met by a scene of dire confusion. Old
Carlo, the grand old Newfoundland dog—the
loving and the loved—the true and the faith
ful—had come home shot through the head,
and was dying. The children threw them
selves upon their shaggy mate, and wept and
moaned in agony.
Air. Brackett arrived just as the dog breath
ed his last. One of the older boys stood by
with a lighted lantern—for it had grown quite
dark now—and the farmer saw what had hap
pened.
“ Who did this ?” he asked, groaningly.
“John Weiton did it,” said Tom Frost,
coming up at that moment. “ He’s been
losin' sheep, an’ I guess he’s got kind o’
wrathy.”
“ But my dog never killed a sheep—never !
He’s been reared to care for sheep. llow
came he down there ?”
“He went over to the mill with Sis and
me,’’ said the younger boy, sobbing as he
spoke ; “ and he was running on ahead of us
toward home. I heard a gun just before we
got to Air. AVelton’s, but oh ! I didn’t think
he could have shot poor Carlo !”
Air. Brackett was fairly beside himself.—
To say lie was angry would not express it.
He loved that- dog—it had been the chief pet
of his household for years. He was not a
man in the habit of using profane language,
but on the present occasion a fierce oath es
caped him ; and in that frame of mind—liter
ally boiling with hot wrath and indignation
—he started for Welton’s.
John Weiton and Peter Brackett had been
neighbors from their earliest days, and they
had been friends, too. Between the two
families there had been a bond of love and
good will, and a spirit of fraternal kindness
and regard had marked their intercourse.—
Both the farmers were hard-working men,
with strong feelings and positive characterist
ics. They belonged to the same religious so
ciety, and sympathized in politics. They
had had warm discussions, but never yet a
direct falling out. Of the two, Weiton was
the more intellectual, and, perhaps, a little
more tinged with pride than was his neigh
bor. But they were both hearty men, enjoy
ing life for the good it gave them.
Mr. Weiton entered his kitchen, and stood
the empty gun up behind the door.
“ What’s the matter. John ?” his wife ask
ed, as she saw his troubled face.
“ I’m afraid I’ve done a bad thing ?” he re
plied regretfully. “ 1 fear I have shot Brack
ett’s dog.”
“ Oh, John !”
“ But I didn’t know whose dog it was. I
saw him coming out from the shed—it was
too dark to see more than that it was a dog.
I only thought of the sheep I had lost, and I
fired.’’
“I am sorry, John. O, how Airs. Brackett
and the children will feel. They set every
thing by old Carlo. Bat you can explain it.”
“ Yes —I can explain it.”
Half an hour later Air. Weiton was going
to his barn with a lighted lantern in his hand,
lie was thinking of the recent unfortunate
occurrence, and was sorely worried and per
plexed. What would liis neighbor say ? He
hoped there might be no trouble. He was
reflecting thus when Air. Brackett appeared
before him, coming up quickly, and stopping
with an angry stamp of the foot.
Now there may be a volume of electric in
fluence even in the stamp of a foot, and there
was such an influence in the stamp which
Brackett gave ; and Weiton felt it, and braced
himself against it. There was, moreover, an
atmosphere exhaling from the presence of the
irate man at once repellant and aggravating.
“ John Weiton ! you have shot my dog !”
The words were hissed forth hotly.
“Yes,” said Weiton, icily.
“ How dared you do it ?”
“ I dare shoot any dog that comes prowling
around my buildings, especially when I have
had my sheep killed by them.”
“ But my dog never troubled your sheep,
and you know it.”
“ How should f know it ?”
“ You know that he never did harm to a
sheep. It wasn’t in his nature. It was a
mean, cowardly act, and (an oath) you shall
suffer for it!”
“ Brackett, you don't know to whom you
are talking.”
“O, ho !” (another oath.) “ We’ll find out!
We’ll see ! Don't put on airs, John Welton.
You ain't a saint. I'll have satisfaction, if I
have to take it out of your hide !”
“ Peter, you’d better go home and cool off.
You are making yourself ridiculous.”
Now, reallj’, this was the unkindest cut of
all. Not all the mad words of Brackett put
together were so hard as this single sentence ;
and John Welton put all the bitter sarcasm
of the command into it.
Brackett burst forth into a torrent of in
vectives, and then turned away.
Half an hour later John Wclton acknowl
edged to himself that he had not done exact
ly right. Had he, in the outset —in answer
to Brackett’s first outburst—told the simple
truth—that he had shot the dog by mistake ;
that he was sorry ; and that he was willing to
do anything in his power to make amends—
had he done this, his neighbor would prob
ably have softened at once. But it was too
late now. The blow had been struck; he
had been grossly insulted ; and he would not
back down.
Mr. Brackett was not so much reflective.
He only felt his wrath, which he nursed to
keep it warm. That evening he hitched his
horse to a job-wagon and went down to the
village after a barrel of flour. Having trans
acted his store business, he called upon
Laban Pepper, a lawyer, to whom he narrated
the facts of the shooting of his dog.
Pepper was a man anxious for fees. He
had no sympathy or soul above that.
“ You say your dog was in company with
two of your 'Children ?”
“ Yes.”
“ And this passage over Mr. Wei ton’s land,
and through his shed, has been freely yielded
by him as a right of way to his neighbors ?”
“ Yes, sir, ever since 1 can remember.”
“Then, my dear sir, Welton is clearly
liable. If you will come with me, we will
step into Mr. Garfield’s and have a suit com
menced at once.”
Mr. Garfield was the trial justice.
All this happened on Friday evening. On
Saturday it had become noised abroad in the
farming district that there was not only seri
ous trouble between neighbors Welton and
Brackett, but that they were going to law
about it.
On Sunday morning John Welton told his
wife he would not attend church. She could
go if she liked. She had no need to ask her
husband why he would not go out. She knew
he was unhappy, and that he could not bear
to meet his old neighbor in the house of God
while the dark cloud was upon him. Nor did
she wish to meet either Mr. or Mrs. Brackett.
So they both stayed at home.
Peter Brackett was even more miserable
than John Welton, though perhaps he did not
know it. He held in close companionship
the very worst demon a man can embrace—
the demon of wrathful vengeance ; and in or
der to maintain himself at the strain to which
he had set his feelings, he was obliged to
nurse the monster. He did not attend church
on that day, nor did his wife. Two or three
times during the calm, beautiful Sabbath, as
he glanced over toward his neighbors dwell
ing, he found himself beginning to wish that
he had not gone to see John Welton in such
a heat of anger; but he put the wish away,
and nursed back his wrath.
On Monday, toward noon, the constable
came up from the village, and read to John
Welton an imposing legal document. It was
a summons issued by Wm. Garfield, Esq., a
justice of the peace and quorum, ordering the
said John Welton to appear before him, at 2
o'clock, on Wednesday, at his office, then and
there to answer to the complaint of Peter
Brackett, etc. The officer read the summons,
and left with the defendant a copy.
It was the first time John Welton had ever
been called upon to face the law. At first he
was awe-stricken, and then he was wroth.—
He told himself that he would fight it to the
bitter end. And now he tried to nurse his
wrath, and became more unhappy than be
fore.
On Tuesday evening, Parson Surely called
upon Mr. Welton. The good man had heard
of the trouble, and was exceedingly exercised
in spirit. Both the men were of his Hock,
and he loved and respected them both. lie
sat down alone with Welton, and asked him
what it meant.
“ Tell me calmly and candidly all about
it,” he said.
After a little reflection, Mr. Welton told
the story. lie knew the old clergyman for
a true man and whole-hearted friend, and he
told everything just as he understood it.
“ And neighbor Brackett thinks even now,
that you shot the dog knowing it was his ?”
“ I suppose so.”
“If you had told him the exact facts in the
beginning, do you think he would have held
his anger ?”
This was a hard question for John Welton,
but he answered it manfully.
“ Truly, parson, I do not think he would.”
“ Were you ever more unhappy in your life
than you have been since this trouble came ?”
“I. think not.”
“And, if possible, neighbor Brackett is
more unhappy than you.”
“ Do you think so ?”
“ Yes. He is the most angry and venge
ful.”
A brief pause and then the parson resumed :
“Brother Welton, with you are needed but
few words. You are a stronger man than
brother Brackett. Do you not believe he has
a good heart ?”
“Yes.”
“ I wish 3*oll could show him how true and
good } r our heart is.”
“Parson !”
“ I wish you could show him that 3*oll pos
sess true Christian courage.”
“ Parson, what do 3*oll mean ?”
“ I wish you had the courage to meet him
and conquer him.”
“ How would 3*oll have me do it ?”
“ First, conquer vourself. You are not of
fended ?”
“No. Go on.”
And thereupon the good old clerg3*man
drew up his arm-chair, and laid his hand up
on his friend’s arm, and told him just what he
would have him do. He spoke earnestly, and
with tears in his eyes.
“Brother Welton, have you the heart and
courage to do this ?”
The farmer arose and took two or three
turns across the floor; and finally he said :
“I will do it!”
*******
On the following day, towards the middle
of the forenoon, Peter Brackett stood in his
door-yard with his head bent. He was think
ing whether he should harness his horse and
be olf before dinner, or whether he would
wait until afternoon. lie could not work;
he could not even put his mind to ordinary
chores.
“I wonder,” he said to himself, “how the
trial will come out! I s’pose Welton ’ll hire
old Whitman to take his case. Of course the
office ’ll be crowded. Tom Frost says it’s
noised everywhere, and everybody ’ll be
there. Plague take it! I wish—”
His meditations were interrupted by ap
proaching steps, and on looking up he beheld
neighbor Welton.
“Good morning, Peter.”
Brackett gasped, and finally answered:
“ Good morning,” though rather crustily.
Welton went on, frankly and pleasantly;
“ You will go to the village to-day ?”
“ I s’pose so.”
“I have been summoned by Justice Gar
field to be there, also; but really, Peter, I
don't want to go. One of us will be enough.
Garfield is a fair man, and when he knows
the facts he will do what is right. Now, you
can state them as well as I can, and whatever
his decision is, I will abide by it. Aou can
tell him that I shot your dog, and that your
doo- had done me no harm.”
“Do you acknowledge that old Carlo never
harmed you—that he never troubled your
sheep ?” inquired Brackett, with startled sur
prise.
“ It was not his nature to do harm to aii3*-
thing. lam sure he would have sooner saved
one of my sheep than have killed it.”
“ Then what did 3*oll shoot him for ?
“ That is what I was just coming at, Peter.
You will tell the Justice that I had lost sev
eral of m3* best sheep—killed b3* dogs —that
I had just been taking the skin from a fat,
valuable wether that had been so killed and
mangled—that I was on my way from my
barn to my house, with my gun in my hand,
when I saw a dog come out from my shed.
My first thought was that he had come from
my sheep-fold. It was almost dark, and I
could not see plainly. Tell the Justice I had
no idea it was your dog. I never dreamed
that I had fired that cruel shot at old Carlo
until Tom Frost told me.”
“ How ? You didn’t know it was my dog ?”
“ Peter, have 3*oll thought so hard of me as
to think that I could knowingly and willingly
have harmed that grand old dog ? I would
sooner have shot one of my own oxen.”
“ But you didn’t tell me so at first. Why
didn’t 3*oll ?”
“ Because 3*oll come upon me so—so—sud
denly—”
“O, pshaw !” cried Brackett, with a stamp
of his foot. “ Wll3* don’t you spit it out as it
was ? Say I came down on 3*oll so like a
hornet that 3*oll hadn’t a chance to think. I
was a blamed fool! that’s what I was.”
“ And I was another, Peter; if I hadn’t
been I should have told you the truth at once,
instead of flaring up. But we will under
stand it now. You can see the Justice—”
“Justice be hanged!—John— Dang it
all! what's the use ? There !—Let’s end it
so !”
From her window Mrs. Brackett had seen
the two men come together, and she trembled
for the result. B3* and by she saw her hus
band, as though flushed and excited, put out
his hand. Merc3*! was he to strike
his neighbor ? She was read3* to cry out with
affright—the ciy was almost upon her lips—
when she beheld a scene that called forth re
joicing instead. And this was what she saw :
She saw these two strong men grasp one
another by the hand, and she saw big, bright
tears rolling down their cheek : and she knew
that the fearful storm was passed, and that
the warm sunshine of love and tranquility
would come again.
Jtcpf HiWrtisemmk
Jackson Sheriff Sales.
W ILL be sold on the first Tuesday in Decem
ber next, before the Court House door, in
•Jefferson, Jackson county, Ga, within the legal
hours of sale, the following property*, to wit:
(100) One hundred acres of land, more or less,
lying on both sides of Beech creek, known as (lie
Edwin Pendergrass place, adjoining lands of Mrs.
McClesky, W L Espy and others, tolerably well
improved ; two separate dwelling houses and im
provements ; about thirty-five acres of good bot
tom land on said place in cultivation, the balance
in old field, except 15 acres of-good forestland.
Levied on the property of J II Holliday, dec'd, by
virtue of a ti fa issued from the .‘superior Court of
said county, in favor of John A. AVimpy vs .John
Simpkins, adm'r of J 11 Holliday*, dec’d. Prop
erty pointed out by plaintiff’s attorney ; notice
served on Alfred Cody and Adolphus Holliday,
tenants in possession, as the layy* directs.
AV A. WORSHAM, Dep. Sh’lf.
November Gth, 1875.
Also, at the same time and place, will he sold
(330) three hundred and thirty acres of land, more
or less, on the west side of the north Oconee river,
on the waters of Parks’ creek, adjoining lands of
Randolph and Hunter. J M Potts and others; on
said land is a splendid dwelling house and neces
sary out-buildings ; 35 acres of lirst class bottom
land on said place in cultivation; about G 5 acres
of good upland in cultivation ; a small portion of
old field and the balance forest land, well timber
ed. Also, 37 J acres of land on the north side of
the north Oconee river, adjoining lands of Marga
ret Carithers and SS Smith’s mill tract—2s acres
cleared and the balance mostly old field ; a small
cabin on said land ; all levied on as the property
of the defendant by virtue of a ti fa issued from
the Superior Court of said County, Executors of
Robert AV. Preyvett, dec’d, (controlled by TANARUS) J
Chandler.) vs. .James 11 Burns. Property point
ed out by defendant.
Also, at the same time and place, yvill be sold
(1000) one thousand acres of land, more or less, on
the yvaters of V alnut fork of Oconee river, adjoin
ing lands of Stephen Roberts, T L Harrison and
others; said place is yvell improved, lying tyvo
miles northwest of Jctt'orson. Levied on by vir
tue of a fi fa issued b}* C S Hill, former Tax Col
lector, in favor of the county of Jackson vs. C C
Thompson. Property pointed out by defendant,
levy made and returned to me by AV F Hunter,
L C. .J. Si HUNTER, Sh’lf.
November Gth, 1875.
Also,.at the same time and place, yy*ill be sold'*
One bouse and lot, in the town of Jefferson,
known as the Thomas Adams lot, containing one
acre, more or less ; with a tolerable good framed
house thereon; bounded on the AV'est by the
Gainesville road, on the North by Thomas Car
ithers’ (dec’d,) land. Also, one other house and
lot adjoining the above described lot, containing
nine acres, more or less, with a splendid dyvelling
and necessary out-buildings thereon ; bounded on
the West by the Gainesville road, on the south by
S. P. Thurmond’s lot; on the East by* Drs Longs’
land. Levied on as the property* of A L Shelor,
by virtue of two fi fas issued from Jackson Supe
rior Court in favor of J E Randolph vs A L She
lor. Property pointed out by plaintiff’s attor
ney. Notice served on VV' A Farris, tenant in
possession as layv directs.
novl3 J. S. HUNTER, Sh’ff.
Jackson County Postponed
Mortgage Sheriff’s Sale.
WILL be sold, on the first Tuesday in Janua
ry, (1876.) eighteen hundred and seventy
six. before the Court-house door in Jefferson,
Jackson county, Ga., within the legal hours of
sale, the following property, to-wit: A certain
bay horse, four years old, levied on as the prop
erty of Jesse Hull, to satisfy one mortgage fi fa
issued from Jackson Superior Court, in favor of
JR& L C Matthews vs. Jesse Hull. Property
pointed out in said mortgage fi fa.
novl3 W. A. WORSHAM, D. Sh’ff.
p\ECLTOR’S S.lliK.
Agreeably to an order of the Court of Ordinary
of Jackson county, Ga, will be sold before the
Court House door in Jefferson, within the legal
hours of sale, on the first Tuesday in December
next, the following property, to witOne tract
of W ild Land, lying in Decatur county, originally
Early, known and described as number 258, in
14th district of originally Early, now Decatur
county, containing two hundred and fifty acres,
more or less. Sold for the benefit of the legatees
of James Shields, late of Jackson countv. deceas-
Terms Cash. W D SHIELDS,
November 6th, 1875. Executor.
To Debtors and Creditors.
IyrOTICK. —All persons indebted to the Es
-Ll tate of W. T. Green, late of said county, de
ceased, will pleaso come forward and settle ; and
all persons having claims against said deceased,
will present them, in terms of law. without delay,
to the undersigned. W, J. COLQUITT,
Octl-0 Administrator,.
DIRECTORY.
JEFFERSON BUSINESsIhrecTOIIv^!
moFESsroxs.
Physicians...-J. D. & 11. J. Lone i T
ter, N. W. Gunthers, J. <►. Hunt. ’
Atty'sat I-AW...J. B. Silinan, \y t ,
.J. A. B. Mahatfey, W. 0. Howard, M.M
I*. F. Hinton, R. S. Howard.
MERCHANTS.
Pendergrass & Hancock, F. M. Bailev
& Iffnson. AVm. S. Thompson. 1
MECHANICS.
Carpenters... Joseph P. Williamson a
J. P. Williamson* Jr. ’
Harness Maker... John G. Oakes.
AV agon Makers...AN m. AYinbum yi
Ray, (col.) ’ ‘ % S
Buggy Maker... L. Gilleland.
Blacksmith...C. T. Story.
Tinner... John 11. Chapman.
Tanners.. .J. E. & 11. J. Randolph.
Boot and Shok-Makers...N. B. Stark
Forest News office ; Seaborn M. Stark I
S. Thompson’s store,
HOTELS.
Randolph House, by Mrs. Randolph
North-Eastern Hotel, by John s
Public Boarding House, by Mrs.
AVorsham.
Liquors, Segars, Ac... J. L. Bailey.
Grist and Saw-Mill and Gin...J. p ~ j
•J. Long.
Saw-Mil*, and Gin...F. S. Smith.
———o
COUNTY SCHOOL DIRECTOR}’
Martin Institute. — J. W. Glenn, Princip* I
P. Orr, Assistant; Miss M. E. Orr, Assists
Miss Lizzie Burch, Music.
Centre Academy. —L. M. Lyle. Principal.
Galilee Academy. —A. L. Barge, Principal,
* Harmony Grove Academy. —R. S. Cheney, p*.
cipal.
Murk Academy. —-J. 11. McCarty, Principal 1
Oak Grove Academy —Airs. A. C. P, pjLI
Principal.
Academy Church. —-J. J. Mitchell, Principal |
Duke Academy. —Mrs. 11. A. Deadwylerj.
cipal.
Park Academy. — Miss A’. C. Park, Princini j
Chapel Academy. —AV. 11. Hill. Principal.
Holly Spring Academy —AV’. P. Newni&n,P|.J
O
ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF JIMft
Athens mail arrives at Jefferson on
davs and Saturdays, at 10 o’clock, A. M.,aDi,.
parts same days at 12 o'clock, M.
Gainesville-mail arrives at Jefferson on We% i
days and Saturdays, at 11 o’clock, A. M.. >. •. j
parts same days at 12 o’clock. M.
Lawrcnceville mail arrives at .Jefferson ouk
da\*s, at 12 o'clock, M, and departs same dm j
o'clock. P. AI.
F. L. Pendergrass, Dep’yPj j
MA GISTRA TES AND BAILIFFS
Jefferson District, No. 2-15, N. H. Penderm.
J. P.: 11. T. Flceman, J. P. John M. But;
Constable.
Clarkesborough District, No. 242. F. M. Ho
day, J. P.; M. IL Smith, .T. P.
Miller’s District, No, 455, H. F. Kidd, J. P,
Chandler's District. No, 240, Ezekiel Hen
•T, P, ; J. G. Burson, J. P.
Randolph’s District, No. 248, Pinckney
Pirkle, J. P. ; das. A. Straynge, J. P.
Cunningham’s District, No, 428, J. A. Bra
ton. .T. P.; T.K. Randolph. J. P.
Neyvtoyvn District. No. 253. G. VV. o’Kellv,
P. ; T. J. Stapler. Not. Pub. A Ex. Off. J.]’,
Minnish's District, No. 255. Z. AV’. Hood. J,||
Harrisburg District. No. 257, VV’m. M. Moran
J. I*. ; J. AV. Pruitt, J. P.
House’s District. No. 213, A. A. Hill. J.P.
Santafee District, No. 1042. AV'. R. Boyd, J.PJ
S. G. Arnold. -I. P.
Wilson’s District, No. 4G5, W. J. Comer. J.?|
MU NIC IPA L OF FI 1 ERS OF JEfFEHm !
VV. I. Pike, Mayor; J. I*. Williamson, Sr..oj
J. N. Wilson, R. J. Hancock. Aldermen; T.lj
Niblack, Esq., Clerk & Treasurer; J. 11. Barn
Marshal.
JACKSON SUPERIOR COURT, j
Hon. GEO. D. RICE, - - - JwiJ
EMORY SPEER. Esq., - - Sol. Gw J
COUNTY OFFICERS.
WILEY C. HOWARD, - - - - Ordinal
M. M. PITTMAN. - - Judge Cos. Owrl
TIIOS. 11. NIBLACK, - - - ClerkS.Gfl
JOHN S. HUNTER, - - - - - - SMJ
VVTNN A. WORSHAM. - - - Deputy I
LEE J. JOHNSON, ----- Twirl
J A MES L. WILLI A ALSO N.-- Tax Collect#!
GEO. AV. BROWN. -----“ Reteinrl
JAMES L. -JOHNSON, - - County Survefj
WM. WALLACE. - - - CoNmI
G. J. N. WILSON, County School
C( )M MISSIONKKS (RoA I >S AN I > R
Seymour. W. and. llaynie, W. G. Steed. Meet<■
the Ist Fridays in August and November. TJjB
Niblack, Esq., ClerL.
COUNTV cm RCH DIRECTORY. I
METHODIST. I
Jefferson Circuit. —defferson, Ilannonv I
Dry Pond, Wilson’s, Holly Springs. VV.iJ ,: !
ris, P. C.
Mulberry Circuit. — Ehcnczer, Bethlehem. 1 |
cord. Centre and Pleasant Grove, Lebanon. I
Anderson, P. C. r , ■
Chanel and Antioch supplied from ATittwß
y*ille Circuit.
I’RJkis IiYTEKIAN*. M
Tliyatira, Rev. G. 11. Cart ledge. Pastor:
Creek, Rev. Neil Smith. Pastor; Pleasant Gtc'l
Rev. G. 11. Cartlcdge, Pastor; Mizpah. K v> ‘ I
Smith, Pastor.
baptist.
Cabin Crock, AY. It. Goss, Pastor;, Hat® 1
Grove. AV. B. J. Hardeman. Pastor; Zion, f j
and. M. Davis. Past.; Bethabra. Rev. G. L. ■
Pastor; Academy. Rev. J. N. Coil,
Walnut, Rev. J. M. Davis, Pastor; CNjrß
Creek. VV. J'. Stark. Pastor: Oconee Church. ■
A. -J. Kelley, Pastor; Poplar Springs, B e '' B
A. Brock, Pastor; Handler's Creek.
Pastor; Mountain Creek, W . J l. Bridges, D'■
PROTESTANT METHODIST.
Pentecost, Rev. R. S. McGarrity*, Pastor. I
“CHRISTIAN.”
Bethany* Church. Dr. F. Jackson, Fast"*' ■
Christian Chapel, Elder AV. T. Lowe. fl
Galilee, Elder P. F. Lamar, Pastor.
FIRST UN I VERBALIST. ...9
Centre Hill, Rev. B. F. Strain, Pastorjt*®H
meeting and preaching every third Saturn*,'
Sunday.
M. E. CHURCH—(NORTH )
Simpson Circuit , Ira Woodman, P 9
lation church, 2d Snndav; Pleasant ■
Saturday; Mt. Olivet. Banks co; Dunn ,v - ■
Chapel, Hall co ; Corinth, Franklin co.
FI! A TERN A L DIRECTORY.
Unity Lodge, No. 36. F. A. M.. meets
day night in each month. H. W. Bell. I
John Simpkins, Sec'y.
Love Lodge. No. 65, I. 0. 0. F.. meet'
and 4th Tuesday nights in each month. J* ■
man, N. G.; G. J. N. Wilson, Sec'y.
Stonewall Lodge, No. 214,1. O. G. TANARUS„
Saturday night before 2d and 4th Sundays ' ll JB
month. J. B. Pendergrass, W. C. TANARUS.;
ry F. Winburn, W. R. S. M
Jefferson Grange, No. 488. P. of H., ■
Saturday before 4th Sunday in each niontb. '1
E. Randolph, M.; G. J. N. Wilson. Sec'v ■
Relief (colored) Fire Company. No. 2.
4th Tuesday night in each month. Henry *'■
Captain; Ned Burns, Sec’y. . r H
Oconee Grange. No. SOI, meets on Sattflj 1 - ■
fore the lirst Sunday in each month, at by 1 , ■
1 o’clock, P. M. A. C. Thompson, " • ■
Bush, Sec’v.
$25 Reward! I
STOLEN, from the plantation of the s u ’'L ;<■
near Jefferson. Ga.. on the night o* ■
inst., a light MOUSE COLORED MAKt ■
medium size, about five years old; has * J
spot on one hip about as largo as a ( WjB
shod before, shoes worn ; mane and w , .rfM
The above reward will be paid for the de
the mule and proof sufficient for thepr r !\ f
and conviction of the thief, or a reason* >
pensation paid for the delivery of the 1
JAMES E. RANPOLF M
Oct 16 Jefft■r ,<,n • ■