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READING-.
A Mother’s Faith.
jOjufe <?st t'<l <>f Long Island arc two
ngcu pHirins wjfcn have been the paresis of
ek-vin children.£ 'i'lirco are not. and one of
the livfiiir mglir\ is thought to he "just on the
verge of heaven.” They have hope that, af
ter the separation of earth, they shall meet
again, an unbroken family in heaven.
One of the sons has his home on the deep,
lie is now master of the whale-ship Lucy Ann,
of Orecnport. 11 is voyages have varied in
length, from one to three or four years. In
his last Save one. he sailed, around
the world ; and in juaf'oac year from leaving
home, returned with his ship full, and with
out having dropped anchor during the whole
voyage. His visits have necessarily been
short at home. His aged mother did not let
without nejKtated admonitions re
specting " the clpefconcern.’* lie would turn
all off by tile reply. “O. mother, we can’t
have religion at sea.’’ When he left lwmie
for the voyage above mentioned, the mother’s
heart was unusually anxious.
Lu nnift fti hr aft Qe and prayer, she followed
§. In his long and trackless way *,
and often (as she says) was so burdened in
spirit that it seemed to her she must die. In
none of the former voyages had that son been
the subject of such agonizing prayer.
Wheu Jlje ship had been gone a year, a
neighbor, who also had a son in the same
ship, csuncL in to bring the news that she had
been jjtfqiicessful. and had gone to.the North-
West coast. This was sad news to the pa
rents. They sat up till a late hour, talking
oftberrloved one; and when they lay r down,
it was to think and pray. Two hours after
midnight, the mother heard a foot-step in the
entry-way. The door opened, and someone
entered. "Who is there?*’ no reply; but
the foot-steps approached the parent’s bed
room. A well-known voicereplifi, “Edwin.”
In a moment the aged mother’s arms were
around the neck of her sailor-son. Her first
words of greeting were, “ Edwin, have you
found the Saviour?”
Let the pious parents who have long
wrestled for thgjcoii vers ion of an impenitent
child, imagine how the heart of that yearning
mother throbbed, when her Edwin replied,
“Mother, I tfrtfst I have.”
There wefc- tears of sacred joy shed in that
house. The prayers of many years had not
been unheard, nor forgotten. The prayer
hearer had waited until importunity had be
come great. In Ihe best time He gave the
gracious ansraL 'Ulje son. found it p'Uf pos
sible to enjojoeligion on the sea. His soul
found peace the ship was on her home
ward voyage. „
A word noWiAo4he parents who pray for
impenitent children. 1)0 you watch as well
as pray? Do you watch for favorable op
portunities to spank seasonable and suitable
words to your children ? Do you watch to
see when tlymriiearU may he unusually seri
ous and tender? I)o you watch for your
own example before them ? Do 3*oo watch
for the außtr<? of your prayers ? Do you
watch to see what books your children read,
and with whom they associate, and whether
t!bey are atteuttyp,to the proper means of
grace ? Do \%u watch more earnestly and
prevailingly for their spiritual welfare than
for their wofhlly pro&jferity ? If an absent
son or daughter Should come home this night,
would your firt. turpi iry be, “ Have you found
the Saviour The prayer that will prevail
must be importunate, persevering and believ
ing. It must be accompanied with corres
ponding labor.
Parents who so labor and pray may securely
tfstUie promises of God.— New York Ob
sMveu
How to be Happy.
y* ~“t rev. \v. it. van i>oren.
to-day, a nurse-had a chubby beau-
J about four years old. After pay
ing her fare, he asked for a penny-. Siic gave
it. to him, and his calm blue eye, dimpled
cheeks, and radiant smile, attracted my at
tdhlfan, His little blue cap, and blue coat,
seemed in perfect keeping with his lovely
complexion and blue eyes. No one noticed
him, and all unconscious of my looking on
him, he cmiUnued holding his penny- and
smiled on fb-rjfcevferal minutes.
There, Said I, is a chapter and lesson on
the secret o f Ijeing happy. That small piece
ot copper filled up his whole desires. So
long as he grasped that coin, twenty gold
eagles put in his lap would have made him
no happiwr. His cup was full. Now, how
can we hrtyp Our cup full also ? Is there not
a clear promise from One whose word differs
from that of father or friend ? Our kind re
latives do also most kindly promise many
good things. But
Feeble our friends’ compassion proves ;
They can but pity where most they love.
lUjtthe Lord (<><l hath said, “ lie content,
for l 'will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”
As the child’s wants were measured with the
so our ...Father will square our
*%]. fcvai&s one with the other. If He
is Almighty and we trust his promise, he can
make us as contented in woolen as in satin,
in a cottage as in a marble palace. His cut
ting down on r wants, and lifting up our spirit
of contentment, is the exact thing that God
ufaue oau do. He has promised to do it, if
we wilt seek the* favor. Who, then, should
not, like that sweet child, smile, so long as
we are £aeb from pain ?
Kho ought not to be cheerful when, amid
a thousand blessings others share, but from
ns'WffTirield, because God will keep His word
and i>hA-h us contented. Others may wonder
why rani and Silas could sing so loud at mid-
jis to make the prison ring. But the
is, They* were so full, so overflowing
with the ravishing-love and glory of the God
ot Heaven, and a Redeemer's grace, they for
got tlKnr wonnds. Thus one forgets a tooth
ache when struck by lightning.
The' tbfcde Hebrews were so filled with
itaiveu iir the fiery furnace, that the flames
did not burn them. Such is the secret of
happiness with us now. God is the same.—
His love can jxxir more glory and joy in the
soul tnan ten thousand demons can destrov.
presence of the Saviour made
martyrs sing in the flames. It made Lazarus
Heaven with nothing but his crumbs
fi>r food and dogs for his friends.— New York
Ofjnercer.
When read aright, the whole Book of God
contains .whispers ot particular love to indi
vidual sufferers; which enter the ear that
has opened, ami soothe the heart that
was ruffled by manifold vexations. The key
to all is,'Christ is mine, and God views me
in Him. (J .
£lSi?V:l^ tlower ’ hllt Ue fadefch not; he is
a river, lmt Ik? is never dry ; he is a sun, but
h<yH)Qw<it& no eclipse; he is all in all, but he
is s<mnet-lung" more than all.— Spurgeon.
Resigned are svmc to go; might we such grace
attain
That we shojjijLwad our resignation to remain.
— -Trench.
THE FARM,
.3 TV I I | 1
• From the Southern Cultivator.! 1 * K
THOUGHTS FOR THE MOUTH.
Fair crops have l*een made in the South,
at large, the past year, but our fanners have
not realized their reasonable anticipations.
In common with, .those in every
other avocation, they have suffered from the
general financial depression, but cspecialty
from the low price of cotton —ami the close
of another year finds them still hard pressed
for money arid doubtful what course to
pursue. Many, hastily jumping. |o the con
[cjuaiou that; “Jprinifu i&tZpay” are
seeking the towns and visage's. This is the
most, unhealthy and alarming feature in our
condition —so large a portion of our popula
tion trying to live by their wits instead of
their muscles. Consumers constantly- in
creasing at the expense of p)Yklutkrk. W&
see no for this lack of equilbrimn
short of starvation driving people out of the
towns back into the country-, and forcing
them to make bread and meat by honest
toil. Could talking or writing have availed
anything, enottgh has teen said arid’ written
long ago to have (depopulated the towns and
established an impassable blockade for bread
and meat around the Cotton States, We do not
propose now to waste ink arguing the point.
Our j/urpoee is, if possible, to aid these who
are content to stay in the country' and work.
We believe that farming property conducted,
dot's pay —that its profits ,are reasonable
and sure, when brain and brawn co-operate
cheerfully. intelligently- and energetically;
but we believe ju3t as fully, that speculative,
careless, routine, uncalculating. unscientific
farming will not pay, but will witli fearful
speed, make bankrupts of those who practice
it. Illustrations of the latter proposition
abound on every side—those of the former,
whilst far from being so numerous, may be
seen in almost every community-—a few
farmers standing head and shoulders above
the unthinking crowd.
Ever since the war, the land has resound
ed with complaints of labor; with more
justice it should be of lack of brains —brains
to plan, brains to calculate, brains to ex
ecute—brains to decide what crops will pay,
how much labor will pay-, how much and
what manures will pay—what rest should be
given to the soil, what restitution made for
its depletion by r crops, what rotations will
pay best and longest maintain fertility of the
soil—what stock will pay, best and most
economical modes of feeding—these and
hundreds of other like questions call most
loudly for strong, educated, tkoroughty-train- ,
ed brains. Away with the practice of!
making tenants or partners of negroes, and I
delegating to them the the direction and
management of our Southern agriculture.
What would be thought of a merchant or a
contractor who would put negroes in charge
of his business? Does farming require less
judgment, less perception, less tact than
buying and selling goods?
Whilst brains are called for on the farm
every day of the year, they are especially
needed this month to plan the year’s cam
paign. If the past lias been a failure, what
must be done to make JJiq future -a success?
A decision on this point is not always easily
reached. The weather, the kind of crops,
the time and manner of ploughing—the
manure Used and its mode of application,
the lack of manure, using tpo much labor
and paying too dearly for it—starting crops
a little too late or laving by a little tbo early,
a deep ploughing when it should have been
shallow, roows too narrow or too wide—too
many or too few stalks to the acre, good or
had seed—liow great the number of factors
that enter into the problem! Think you
that any- bnt a careful observer, a close cal
culator, a patient and profound thinker can
solve it?
With the light of past experience before
us, what crops shall we plant? A part of
the answer is as plain as the noonday sun :
provision crops of some kind, sufficient at
least to run the farm. Everybody secs and
admits that. In this connection, we would
urge again the manuring of all corn
not likely to suffer from drought to a very
high degree. Very much is to be gained by
pushing such lands to a yield of 75 to 100
bushels per acre. I On dry uplands the
benefits of high manuring may be lost
through drought. Isot so with valley lands.
Seventy-five to one hundred bushels of
cotton seed and three to four hundred
pounds of acid phosphate per a<pre v may be
very safely and profitably applied! fa’he cost
will be from 15 fo 20 dollaVs per* (tore —the
gain (with same hoeing and ploughing) from
60 to 75 bushels corn. Will not those who
doubt, try the experiment on one acre this
year—or if their faith is ve)*y freak, on a half
or quarter acre? We want, friends, to get
you out of the old ruts—the draft is too
heavy, and you are about to stall. There is
no wisdom, no common sense, in pursuing
the same course year after year, when the
end is nothing but failure— utfeF fafhtrcfn
Another proposition, palpabffe to every
reflecting man, is that every one’s operations
should be brought sharply within the limits
of his means. Credit at all times is hazard
ous—during periods of great financial disturb
bance it is almost invariably disastrous.
Creditors then become unusually clamorous,
and property brings little when forced to
sale. But what should be done if one is
already in debt, it may be asked. Sell if
need be every thing over and above what is
I needed to run a one horse farm, and start
from the bottom. Show yourself honest and
you will not need homestead or other laws to
protect you.. Creditors are exacting, be
cause they fear dishonesty. When one firmly
and cheerfully resolves to pursue a course
like this, it is surprising how little is requir
ed to run a farm and support a family till a
crop is made. A cow and a garden will keep
starvation a long way off. Just think of the
quantity of Irish potatoes that can be raised
on a little patch of ground—how early in the
season they are available—and how ’nearly
this tuber can supply the place of bread.
Whilst urging this heroic treatment, we hope
few will need it. We are sure, however, that
very nearly all our farmers would be better
ed by more or less contraction of business,
selling enough to pay off old debts and then
adhering firmly and inflexibly to the maxim,
‘•pay as you go.” As our friend “Acorn”
has often reminded us, that is the “philoso
pher's stone.”
With these two points settled, to work
within means, and live within means, and to
a raise a full supply of food crops, the way
is open to arrange the work of the year. It
will not be difficult to procure the compara
tively little labor that will be needed.
Droves of mules may pass unheeded by*
The fertilizers wanted, can be bought at
reasonable rates. Lands suited to the dif.
ferent crops can be easily selected, when so
much less than usual is to be cultivated. -
Side crops, like ground-peas, clip fas, sweet
potatoes, upland rice, sugar cane, &e., have
a chance to slip in. OH, run down fields
can be turned out to rest and recuperate.
There will be no jostling nor crowding, but!
everything may be easily and smoothly-;
adjusted. But perhaps enough has beani
said—be sure y-ou are right, then go j
ahead.” j
Plans being matured, the next thing is to j
start the ploughs ou stubble and rested.
lantjs. Where not apt to wash, bed up atj
once, throwing up “list” without running a
center furrow and split out middle well.
Three furrows of a two-horse plough will do
this. This done, manure can be put in the
water furrow whenever you are ready, and
beds reversed. The unbroken part under
the “list” will then become the permanent
water furrow. On level lands, we much pre
fer this plan to any other. Ridge up stiff
lands first, and let them get the benefit of
the freezes.
SELECT STORY.
Who was the Murderer?
1.
“ Naughty floor to hurt baby ! we will slap
it, so We will; there, don’t cry, the floor will
ery\ naughty- floor.” So say-s pretty, y-onng
Mrs. Percy*, as she picks up baby Willie from
the floor, kisses the bump on his little fore
head. and quite hurts her own white hand as
she administers a violent castigation to the
carpet, at which Willie, with renewed good
humor, laughs and crows.
“Naughty cousin Jamie,” say r s the mother
again, some months later: “mamma must
whip Jamie for breaking Willie’s wooly dog,”
•‘Naughty nursey to let Willie cry; nursey
ought to be slapped.” “ Baby, slap mamma,”
she says, as she play-fully snatches away his
toys, and laughs to see the fat dimpled little
puddings, dignified by the name of hands,
applied lustily to her face.
“ I declare, my- baby’s just as spunky as
eyer he can be,” says this young mother, who
is discussing babies and their respective mer
its with an intimate friend ; just as three years
ago they discussed', their ti’Qusseaux, and the
year before that their school-books, together.
“You ought to see how red his face gets,
and how he screams, when any-thing don’t
please his lordship. lie’s beginning to talk
now, and I believe the first word he said was
‘slap.’ It’s ‘Sap nursie.’ ‘Me ill sap papa,’
and he looks so cunning that though I pre
tend to be very grave, and say, ‘ That’s very r
naughty, Baby-,’ I never can help laughing;
and then the little rogue laughs too, and says :
‘Pees not sap Willie,’ so that all I can do is
just to give him a good hug.”
Now, Minnie Percy- is very fond of her soft
white immortal, and she thinks a great deal
about its immortality, too. Every day she
kneels and asks God to take care of the lit
tle body, and mould the little soul into his
own blessed image, so that some day—a
great, great way off in the future she hopes—
both soul and body may go to be happy for
ever in his beautiful Heaven. Is she taking
the way to get her pray-ers answered ? We
will see.
n.
4 ‘ What a terrible fellow that Will of ours
is getting to be !” says Mr. Percy to his wife,
with an unmistakable accent of pride ; “He’s
always getting into hot water. Every week
a report is sent home of his fighting with
someone. I suppose I must punish him this
time for appearance’ sake, since Charley Cof
fin—a boy-, by tte by, twice as big as him
self—went home with a black eye, and an
ugly cut on his forehead, and his mother sent
Mr. Brady word that she would take him
away from school if that dreadful Will Percy
was not kept away from him in future. They
say he has the reputation of a prize-fighter
among the boy-s; the little ones are afraid of
him, and the big ones never dare to bully
him but once. One can’t help admiring a
spirited fellow like that, that is so well able
to take his own part, if one must, for the sake
of discipline, occasionally administer a little
castigation. I shall have to give Willie a
whipping this morning, but, Minnie, see that
the chap has a good dinner, to make up for
it.”
“ Willie is so gentle to his little sister,”
says*his mother, “and so generous; so kind
hearted, too, to every thing in trouble, that,
l don’t see how he comes to have Such a
temper. It’s a flash with him, and then it’s
all over at once, bitt sometimes I am really
frightened, when he gets into one of his tan
trw)ns.”
“O, that’s only because you’re a woman!
Bravery and generosity are the most
gentle to the weak and unfortunate. I’m
proud of your boy, I can tell you. Don’t
you go and dress him up in white feathers,
and make a milk-sop of him. Take care of
the girls, and I’ll see to Willie. By the by,
Minnie, did I ever tell you how old Soapy,
the Sunday-school superintendent, pitched
into me one.day last winter? He said he
was constrained to tell me that he thought we
would one (Jay have cause to rue the manner
in which we were bringing up our boy ! “ We
teach the boys that they ought to serve and
imitate the Lamb of God,” said he, “and then
we look on and applaud while they fight like
lions and tigers. 'Taint right, Tercy ; ’taint
the Lord's way, and harm will surely come
of it.”
“ And what did yon say ?”
“Well, I couldn’t tell good old Soapy,
who’s been 'most a father to me, to mind his
own business, but I did say that “boys will
be boys,” that I wasn't afraid, etc., if, said
I, the boy was mean or deceitful, a tell-tale
or A sneak, if he told lies, or took unfair ad
vantage of any one, I’d break every bone in
his skin ; but as it is, he is only a little too
noble, and I shan’t have his fine spirit bro
ken.” *
And so Papa Percy, who is an officer in his
Church, and really a Christian man. calls his
household together for morning prayers, and
beseeches that every member of
his family may be made like to the meek and
lowty Jesus, while Willie, who from the next
room has heard the whole conversation, takes
his whipping—which is not half so hard as
those which he daily receives from his school
fellows—in a philosophical, or, as his father
would say, “manly” way, enjoj’s the dinner
provided for him, and goes on his way re
joicing in the consciousness of being a re
markable fine fellow.
hi.
Willie Percy, a handsome, whiskered
young man now. sits on a low ottoman, be
fore a fair young girl, who is eagerly drink-
ing in every word of his brilliantly told col
lege exploits. Very precious is the girl’s
approbation to him and whatever may be the
case a t'car or two hence, when the familiar
indifference of the husband will have taken
the place of lover-like deference, just now he
is ready to walk in any path that the fair fin
gers may point out.
“ Yes,” continues the speaker, “of course
I could not stand that—it was a slur upon
my honor ; so I gave him a sounder drubbing
than he ever had before—a little harder than
I meant to, I confess, but then you see, my
blood was up—the fellow had told lies about
me, or I thought he had, and wn&t else could
Ido ? I was sorry for him when my passion
cooled down, for the dons rusticated us both.
That didn’t matter to me, you know, as I had
plenty of time, and used that Summer to get
a fair start with my German ; but Collins had
been sent to college by the self-denial of his
mother ajpi sisters, and every moment was
of importance to him till he should be able to
support them. He lost that whole year, for
he never was very strong, and had a fever
in consequence of our fight. Then the fami
ly got into difficulty somehow, and Collins
never came back to college at all, but went
into a merchant's office, which I knew h$
hated, instead. I offered to help out with his
expenses, but the family were too proud to
take aid from me. And after all, I found out
that Collins had never told the lies, but that
fellow Hunter just made up the story for a
hoax, as he said “to see the fyn.” It wasn’t
fun for him when I found it out, but that
didn’t help poor Collins. I was awfully sor
ry for him, but what else could I do ?”
“Nothing,” says the admiring Lilly; “I
think you were very generous; I wouldn’t
have my Willie a coward for anything.” And
she looked at him with such eyes as might
have befitted the maidens of Valhalla when
the Victorious Vikings returned from their
forays, and passed the long Northern even
ings in recounting the exploits of an era
whose glory consisted in blows and blood
shed.
There are croakers, who think that Lilly
Greenleaf is running a great risk in marry
ing Willie Percy, with his quick temper and
unbridled instinct of revenge ; but she thinks
herself the most fortunate girl in the world,
and, in answer to one of these over-anxious
friends, says:
“ I wouldn’t have him different. A man is
nothing but a white-livered coward without
spirit.” And then she floats away to teach
her infant class the hymn which begins,
“ Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,”
and the little ones look upon her as a white
angel, whose home, wherever it is, can nev
er be any thing but heaven. Poor Lilly !
rv.
Shaded rooms, drawn-down blinds ; untast
ed food ; bitter tears, groans and lamenta
tions ! What do they all mban ? Only this
, —that two forms, in the glory of beautiful
young manhood, lie stiff in two coffins, nev
er again to respond to the agonized w r ords
or glances of those that love them. How did
it happen ? Only thus.
Last Wednesday, Willie Percy called to
see a companion, and was shown to his room.
What passed between them who shall tell ?
They had never been enemies—so it appear
ed at the inquest. Some chaffing, perhaps,
some light word from his gay-hearted com
panion, “got Willie’s spirit up.” Words led
to blows ; the companion was even a match
for the renowned, aristocratic prizefighter
Willie; and a revolver, was fearfully close at
hand. A click, a report and something laj r
on the carpet before him which in one short
morning turned the opening brightness of
his life into the blackness of desolation, and
left remorse as the one residium of the char
acter of the splendid-spirited boy.
Unresistingly he allowed the officers of
justice to lead him into confinement. As one
in a dream he awaited the coming of his ter
ror-stricken father and mother. Lilly he re
fused to see. “I am a murderer,” were the
first words with which he greeted his parents.
“I didn’t mean to but my temper was up, and
I didn’t know what I did. I love Charlie
like a brother, but I am my brother’s murder
er. Charlie's mother will never forgive me.
and God will not either.”
In vain the Christian parents repeated to
their boy the often-heard offers of God’s
pardon and Christ’s love. lie only said :
“No, you taught me long ago that no mur
derer could enter the golden city, and I am
a murderer.”
The inquest proceeded, and as it appear
ed that there had been no intention, within a
few moments before tbe act was committed,
of any deadly assault, Mr, Percy’s friends
assured him that should the matter, for form’s
sake, be brought to trial, it would go easy
with his son. But nothing could cheer Wil
lie. This sudden blighting of all his pros
pects by his own rash action had taken out
of him all the manhood, on which he had so
prided himself, and in which his friends so
delighted. lie trembled at the very mention
of a public trial; he dreaded to hear Lilly’s
opinion of him ; he shrank from his mother’s
pity and his father’s consolations, and dared
not look np for forgiveness to the God whose
law he had broken.
And so, when his father went to visit him
yesterday, another fearful shock awaited him,
for the brave Willie Percy had committed
the most cowardly action.possible to a civil
ized man ; and though' tiorte dreamed that he
still had any deadly weapon near him, put
an end to the life whose entanglements and
responsibilities he had not courage to face.
It is painful to depict, aud painful to read,
such scenes as these. Only the earnest and
powerful hope that some good may come out
of the evil can excuse their delineation. We
therefore turn from the chamber in which a
a white Lilly lies crushed beneath the unex
pected storm ; from that in which one mother
utters wild maledictions against her son’s
slayer, whose fate she has not yet learned,
from that wherein another mother bathes in
tears the cold hands and forehead ofthe once
sweet, soft baby, Willie, and a father raves
in the wild delirium of masculine sorrow over
the awful end of his bright, spirited boy;
from the terrible certainties awaiting a soul
imbued with human blood ; and rushing un
called into the presence of a God of purer
eyes than to behold iniquity ; and ask you,
reader, who admire the “cunning” ways of a
“spunky” baby, who teach it revenge with
its earliest sense of pain—you who encourage
and applaud the noble art of self-defense as
proof of a boy’s manliness—you who glory
in the high spirit of a lover that cannot brook
an insult—
Who, in the sad story you have read, was
the murderer ?— M. E. Winslow in N. Y.,
Advocate.
A Texas pastor recently rose in his pulpit
and made the following pathetic address to
his congregation: “ Now, see here. I jist
want to have all of you folks know that it
ain't more’n likely there’ll be anymore pray
in’ and singin’ in this yere church unless you
leave your shotguns at home. If thaPs any
shootin' to be done jes step outside and I’ll
jine ye ; but bless me ef I’m going to do any
prayin’ with my eyes closed and twenty-five
as big boss thieves as ever struck a trail with
in ten foot of me. Do you hear me whisper ?”
C5PThe Georgia “homesteads” are in
eclipse. Hard as they’ are on creditors they
must stand back while B. F. Allen, the
eminent lowa bankrupt, comes to the front
with a residence at Des Moines that he re
tains under the statute. It is known as
Terrace hall, and is worth $300,000.
BARGAINS!
NEW GOODS 5 REDUCED PRICES!
STANLEY & PINSON,
HAVE JUST RECEIVED A FULL ASSORTMENT OF
Dry Goods, Groceries, Hats, C&ps, Boots, Shoes, Hardware, Earthenware, Hollow.*^
Ready-Made Clothing,
Ladies’ and Misses Dress Goods, of various styles ; MedicineSjDrugs, Dye-Stuffs Paint,
Oils, A FULL VARIETY OF NOTIONS to please the little children as well u ’
those of a larger growth. All of which, together with many other things,
Will be sold Cheaper than Ever,
•mam poe cash, e-ra
LOOK HEBE, LOOK HEBE!
AND THEN COME AND SEE FOR YOURSELVES, THAT
F. M. BAILEY
(At the Old Stand of J. G, McLestek.)
HIS JUST RECEIVED AND WILL KEEP CONSTANTNV ON HIND,
A FULL ASSORTMENT $ DRY GOODS,
GROCERIES, HARD-WARE, EARTHEN-WARE, GLASS-WARE, HOL
LOW-WARE, BOOTS & SHOES, LADIES’ & GENTLEMENS’ HATS,
Ready-Made Clothing, ALL
Drugs, Medicines, Paints and Dye-Stuffs,
LADIES’ DRESS GOODS TRIM 2v£X2STGtS
In rich Variety, and a multitude of Pleasing Notions in great Profusion f
These G-oods will be sold at Athens and Gainesville Prices!
Call and have this assertion verified 1 Oct 16
PENDERGRASS & HANCOCK
Would Respectfully Call tile Attention of
CASH BUYERS § PROMPT-PA YING CUSTOMERS,
TO TIIEIR ... , .
NEW STOCK OF FALL. GOODS,
Which consists of
THE BEST PRINTS at 10 cents per yard,
FIXE BRANDS OF BLEACHING at and 15 cents per yd.
GRAN ITEVTLLE DRILLING at 12| cts. per yard.
BRUMBY’S BROGAN SHOES. SL7S per pair.
MEN i BOYS’ Ready-Made CLOTHING
OF THE LATEST FALL STYLES.
Ladies’ Hats and Bonnets, Artificial Flowers, Ribbon, Src,
The Largest stock of Soots and Shoes
THAT HAS EVER BEEN BROUGHT TO JEFFERSON!
CHEAPER TZEX.A.Isr EVER I
LARGE STOCK OF OYER SHOES, Umbrella#, fyc.
SADDLES, BRIDLES, COLLARS, kt
FACTORY JANES, Cassimeres, Cotton Yarns,
Osnaburgs, Checks, Shirting, Bleaching,
TICKINGS, BLANKETS, & c 7
LADIES’and GENTS’ SHAWLS, ,1
Linseys, Flannels, &c.
Crockery and Glass-Ware!
A SELECT STOCK of LAMPS AND CHIMNEYS.
PAINTED BUCKETS, CEDAR BUCKETS, WELL BUCKETS, sc.
LARGE STOCK OF HARDWARE, Table Pocket Cutlery, Ac.
Hats and Caps,
FULL LINE OF NOTIONS,
Drugs and Patent Medicines, Glass, Putty,
Spice, Pepper, Soda, Salts, Blue Stone, Coperas, &c.
KEROSEKE OIL!
COFFEE, TEAS, MOLASSES, SYRUPS, LARD, HAM,
UIWVCIYIC9) CHEESE, FLOUR, BACON, SALT. *.
ALL TOILET ARTICLES, Perfwinery,
HAIR OIL, TOILET SOAPS, Ac.
fact almost everything except artificial teeth, tombstones and playing card#.
October 16, 1875. BTCall and see us when } r ou come to town .JD
I-. SCHEVENEIX <fc Cos.,
Broad street, Athens, G-a.,
Dealers In
American and Imported W r atehes,
Clocks, Jewelry, Silver and Plated Ware,
-{| bridal PRESENTS, I)-
6UNS, PISTOLS, AMMUNITION, SPECTACLES, EYE-GLASSES, MUSICAL INSTRUiHft
CANES, FANCY ARTICLES, <£c.„ sc.
HAYING BEST AND EXPERIENCED WORKMEN, WE ARE PREPARED
To do Repairing and Gold and Silver Plating in superior stlyft
Athens, Ga.] CALX, -A.2NT3D SEE T7S! fcTuiy3UY
Jackson County.
hereas. John A Daniel, administrator of the
estate of John T W Randolph, late of said coun
ty, deceased, represents to the Court that he has
fully administered the estate of said deceased, and
makes application, in proper form, for Letters of
Dismission—
Therefore, all persons concerned, are hereby
notified to file their objections on or before the
first Monday in February, 1876, if any they have,
to the granting of said letters of dismission, or
else Letters Dismissory. as prayed for by the ap
plicant will, at the regular term of the Court of
Ordinary to be held in and for said county, be
granted. J ’
vt Give JV under my official signature, this Ist of
Nov., 1875. no 6 W. C. HOWARD, Ord’y.
Take Notice,
Abb persons having demauds against the estate
of R 1 Carrithers, deceased, are hereby noti
fied to render in an account of such demands, in
terms of law; also, persons indebted to said
estate can save money and trouble by settling
with me or my attorney. J. A. B. Mahakfey
Esq., at once. SARAH P. CARRTTFIERS.
novO i!w Adm’x said dae'd.
BEND 50 CENTS FOR A YEAR’S SUBSCRIPTION 19
THE “TYPOS GUIDE,” A VALUABLE PUBLI
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jktv ‘GAN.
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