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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 • ■