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SUNDAY READING.
MEAR.
I heard the words of the preacher,
As he read that hymn so dear.
Which mother sang at our cradle
To the ancient tune of Me&r.
And I felt her angel pressure
As sung were those blessed words ;
My heart was with rapture tilling,
As sweet as the song of birds.
I longed for the land of summer,
Life’s River, with waters clear;
For the calm, sweet eyes of mother,
Who sang the old tune of Mear.
P, tale of the shepherd’s watching
Over their flocks in the night?
Of the dear Lord, sending angels
Enshrouded in glory bright.
O, story ! told in the Orient
To each wandering shepherd's ear,
That story sung by my mother
To the hallowed tune of Mear.
O, pure white babe of the manger,
Thy story shall ever run
Till redemption’s work is finished
All souls to God’s Kingdom won !
To-Day. that e’er welcome cadence
Of song floated back to me ;
Over the paths of my childhood
It lovingly came, all free.
I thanked the good, kind All-Father
For this memory brightly clear—
The saintly smile of my mother,
And her low voice, singing Mear.
Ah, me ! the father has rested
Many and many a year;
The mother who sang by our cradle,
Mas gone to a higher sphere.
Brothers and sisters have parted ;
Some live in the Better Land;
A nd some are waiting their summons,
Sojourners yet on life's strand.
I feel, when we meet up yonder.
Where cometh no sigh nor tear,
Our mother will softly sing us
The grand old tune of Mear.
Religion and Manners.
Good religion and good manners always
go together. They are things that God has
joined, and no man can put them asunder.—
This follows from the nature of religion,
which is the love of God, and the love of our
fellow-men. It is a compliance, in some good
degree, with the two great commandments of
the divine law. It is the exercise of proper
feelings towards God, and a corresponding
treatment of Him ; and the like towards our
neighbor. He who has true religion, is a re
newed man. Holy love has been shed abroad
in his heart by the Holy Spirit. And that
love makes him kindly disposed toward all.
This the precepts of the Gospel require of
bins. He is to love, not only those who love
him, Midi to treat them kindly ; but he is to
love even his enemies, if he has them ; and
to treat them with kindness. So did the
Saviour, who is to be the example of all his
disciples.
Religion, having its seat in the heart, is
developed in the outward life. It modifies
and shapes the conduct. It has upon its pos
sessor a refining influence. It improves his
manners. Under its power he becomes more
kind, and gentle, and courteous. Such was
its effect upon the great apostle. Before his
conversion, he was impetuous and head
strong. He was overbearing, caring little for
the interests of others. But religion tamed
him. It subdued his natural ferocity, and
made him lamb-like. To the Thessalonian
Christians he thus wrote : “We were gentle
among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her
children.” We find him, in all circumstances,
an example of courtesy.
But it may be said, that some Christians
are unmannerly and boorish. They are
greatly lacking in kindliness and friendliness.
We are constrained to admit that it is so.—
We are not ourselves strangers to such. But
it is nevertheless true, as we said at the out
set, that good religion and good manners al
ways go together. There are no exceptions.
It is no more true that good religion and dis
honesty go together, than it is that good re
ligion and ill manners go together. Those
boorish and onmannerly Christians are lack
ing in good religion. They are greatly de
ficient here ; and that is the reason why they
behave no better. Let them increase their
religion ; let them get more of the genuine
article, and they will be improved outwardly
in an equal degree as inwardly. There is not
a defect or deficiency at which some precept
of the Gospel does not aim a blow, and which
is not rebuked by the example of Him who
was “holy, harmless, and undefiled.” To
learn good manners, one does not need to go
to school to Lord Chesterfield. He can bet
ter learn them in the school of Christ, where
ke has ever before him perfect rules, and a
perfect example.—H. S., in N. Y. Observer.
The Cross.
Quaint though the construction be of the
following poem, yet never has the story been
told with more truthful simplicity:
Blest they who seek,
While in their youth
With spirit meek,
The way of truth.
To them the sacred scriptures display,
Christ as the only true and living way;
His precious blood on Calvary was given,
To make them heirs of bliss in Heaven ;
Even on earth the child of God can trace,
The glorious blessing of his Saviour’s grace.
For them he bore
His father’s frown;
For them he wore
The thorny crown ;
Nailed to the cross,
Endured its pain,
That hi 9 life’s loss
Might be their gain.
Then hate to choose
That better part,
Nor dare to refuse
The Lord thy heart
Lest He declare,
“ I know you not,”
And deep despair
Should be your lot.
Now, look to Jesus, who on Calvary died,
And trust in Him who there was crucified.
GPTn estimating their piety, men are apt
to select a wrong standard. They each say,
"I am not as bad as such a one. He gets
drunk, or he swears, or he neglects to dis
charge some other duty. I would not do as
he does.” Now, it should be remembered
that our neighbors are not our guides so far
as holy living is concerned. Christ is our
model. If we would live holy lives, we must
set Christ always before our face. He is per
fect and no one else is. We may be as good
as our neighbors, and fail to do our duty.—
Nay. we may be far better than any of our
neighbors, and still be vile sinners in the
sight of God.
Begin every day with prayer. It is the
golden key that unlocks Heaven to pour down
blessings on you. End every day with prayer.
It is the same golden key that locks you up
under Heaven’s protection.
STORY COLUMN.
A MOUNTAIN COURT SCENE.
A TOUCHING STORY, THOUGH INELEGANTLY
TOLD HOW THE NAME OF “MOTHER”
SATED A LIFE.
Old Job Dawson had been duly elected to
the responsible position of Justice of the
Peace, and this wa9 the first case that de*
manded his attention. Job was a veteran
mountaineer, and had lived in the shadow of
the lofty peaks, hunting, trapping and fight
ing Indians, to use his own words, since
“ Adam was a kid.” In that rough region an
accusation of a great crime against any one
i9 but a forerunner of a “ hanging bee,” and
a trial is seldom thought of. But in the pres
ent instance a wild “cu9s” who had been
frequenting the settlement had been appro
priating the “broncho” (Indian pony), be
longing to a neighboring ranchman, had been
pursued, captured and brought back. Old
Job was summoned to try the culprit, and a
spot in the rocky gulch near the squire’s
cabin was selected for the site of the investi
gation. A motly crowd of hunters, trappers,
miners and rancheros were present. Some
were lying on the ground and others were sit
ting upon the rocks, all anxiously awaiting
the squire’s coming. Job soon came from to
wards the cabin, and, with dignified air, seat
ed himself upon a boulder, took off his bear
skin cap, and said :
“Fellers, the court are ready to git down
to biz, an’ I want ver all to choose y*er racket,
an’ let up on that chin music according to
law. Through yer hair in sight, an’ pay ’ten
tion to the court.”
Every hat came off at this command, and
his Honor, glancing around the circle, said :
“ Whar is the cuss ?”
The mountaineers, armed with Henr}- rifles
and six-9hooters, stepped forward with the
thief, a young man wearing a devil-may-care
expression. His hands were securely fasten
ed behind his back with buckskin thongs.—
Clad in buckskin from head to foot, he pre
sented a picturesque appearance as he faced
the squire.
“ Wat do yer call yer when }*er at home ?”
asked the court.
“ Ain’t got any home, leastwa3 r s in these
parts,” sullenly replied the prisoner.
“ Ain’t, hey ? Well, what’s the name yer
tuk w'en yer left the States, then ?”
“The boys hyar on the hills call me Tiger
Jim ”
“ Well, Tige, yer spotted a hoss thief, an’
I reckon thar’s something in it, or the boys
wouldn’t a brought you in. You can’t ex
pect a trial like j’ou’d get down to Laramie,
or in eny of them towns along the road. We
havn’t eny paper, pens or ink, or eny of that
foolishness up hyar in the hills, an’ thar ain’t
one of us could engineer ’em if we had, so
we’ll jist grind yer through an’ do the best we
can for yer. In the name of the law I now
ask yer did you collar that boss—but stop ’er
right thar, doggone it, I forgot to swar you.
Cum mitey near forgittin’ it. Hold up yer
right han’!”
“ Ho’d up nothin’. How kin I when they
are tied up titer* n blazes!”
“ I hat s so. Ter k’rect, Tige, but guess
eny member of the body’ll be ’cording to law
in extreme cases. Steddy him a little, fellers,
so’s he kin hold up his right foot.”
Tige raised his moccasin-covered foot,
while a guard on each side held him in posi
tion.
“ Now, then, I ain’t a fly on them ar law
yer s affydavys, but I'll make her stout enough
to hold a Mexican mule. Tiger Jim, do you
swear by the iloly Moses, according to the
laws of Wyoming Territory, that every time
3’er chip into m3’ racket ye’ 11 give us a square
truth ? An’ ef 3’er don’t, do yer hope that
yer may get chawed up by a grizzly, chopped
to pieces by Sioux, strung up to a pine with
a rope ’round yer neck, an’ fail to connect in
Heaven when yer light goes out, to the best
of yer understandin’ as provided by law,
s’help j’er God, eh ?”
“ That’s jist wa’t I does, pardy.”
“ Now, Tige, yer under oath, an’ cvTy time
yer speak yer want to hit the bull’s eye. Did
yer hear that, hoss ?”
“Wall, Uncle Job, there’s no use o’ lyin’
’bout it, an’ I’ll tell yer jist how it war. Las’
night 3’ou know thar was a jamboree over to
A1 Milkings ranch, in Miller’s Gulch, and I
war thar. A1 had been in Larime city an’
got a keg o’ good old budge, an’ we all got
purty full. After the dancin’ war over I pull
ed out for Bowie’s ranch, whar I am bangin’
out, an’ as I war staggerin’ down round Moun
tain Cats Hill, I run right onto broncho that
war picketed out in the grass, an’ war jist
drunk enough to mount him an’ lite out. I
know I’m going to swing for it, an’ I’ll die
game, too. I ain’t worth a cuss, an3’way, an’
ef it warn’t fur m3’ good old mother back in
the States (here the tears began to roll down
his bronzed cheeks), who never closes her
eyes ’thout pra3’in’ God to send me back to
her, I’d laugh at death an’ help yer fix the
rope; but when I think of that darlin’ old
soul I get weaken’r a wounded antelope. I
tell ye, fellers, I’ve been a tough cuss ever
since I struck out to these mountains, an’ I
s’pose the world'll be better ’thout me in it.
My old mother will suffer, I know that, for
I’m her only kid, and hev sent her every
ounce o’ dust tliet I could spare, an’ it is all
she had to live on. She's been a good un to
me, God bless her, an’ I’m sorry I havn’t
lived so's I can camp with her up thar (rais
ing his tearful eyes toward Heaven), an’ boys,
wont some o’ you write to her. Tom Kirk
thar knows whar she lives, an’ tell her I got
let out by an Injun, or pegged out nat’ralty.
For God’s 9ake don’t let her know I was
strangled. The news ud kill her. But then
I’ll cheese this gab or ye’ll think I’m weaken
in', and the man don’t live as can skeer Tiger
Jim. Elevate me, boys, jist as quick as ye
please. I’m ready when ye arc.”
During this recital Jim’s eyes were filled
with tears, and a close observer would have
detected “ silent weeping” on all sides. The
word “ mother” had awakened tender recol
lections in the breast of every one of those
hardy mountaineers. Men who could face
death in any shape without a particle of feel
ing did not try to hide their tears at the men
tion of that sacred name, mother! How sweet
it sounded to their ears! It carried them
back to the happiest days in the dead past,
when they were blessed with the love of pa
rents, before the insatiable thirst for gold had
led them into these mountain wilds. Not a
word wa9 spoken for a few moments, then old
Job drew his hand across his watety
e3’es, and said in a husky voice :
“Tige, ye wouldn’t break an oath, would
ye ?”
“ No, Job Dawson, not for friend or foe. —
There ain’t a boy in the hills as can say that
Jim ever went back on even his given word.
I’m a rough un an’ do some miety mean
things, but when I say a thing you can gam
ble every dpllar 3*oll’ve got upon its bein’
straight.”
“ Well, Tige, we had intended to swing ye,
an' 3*e deserve swingin’, but I can’t git rid o’
that ‘ mother’ chinning 3’e gave us. I s’pect
the old lad3* set her heart on seein’ 3*e agin,
an’ is wearin’ her old eyes out lookin’ fer 3 r er.
I've got an old mother m3 r sclf, an’ thpugli I
hevn’t sot e3 r es on her since ’49, her picter’s
right hyar in my heart, an’ its a pleadin’ for
3’er old woman, Tige. It’s ruff, Tige, ruff,
an’ —let’s see—3'es, darned if I don’t du it*
Jack, cut them strings so’s he can get his
hands loose. Thar, that’s it. Now, Tige, hold
up yer right hand, an’ ef yer ever swore
strong do it now. Do 3*e swar by the great
God and yer blessed old mother, that if this
Court discharges 3*e, 3*e’ll lite rite out for the
States an’ go home to the old lady, an’ love
her an’ comfort her as long as she stays out
of Heaven ? Do you swar to this, Tige, be.
fore Almighty God and this Court ?”
“ I do, Job, an’ thar’s my fist on it. Put
it thar. I swar it, an’ I’ll pull stakes rite
away.”
“ Then ye’re released on them terms, an’
the boys’ll help ye git yer traps down to the
station; but mind, I tell ye, Tige, ef ye’re
ever caught in the hills again, 3*e’ll go up a
tree. Fellers, the Court’s over an’ the pris
oner’s discharged.”— Marion County {Cal.)
Journal.
The Horse Jockey.
For a red hot speciality yu hav got to hunt
kreashun cluss to find an equal to the kuntr\'
hoss jockey. He is alwus a man ov plesent
temperment, vain ov hiz opinyuns, often ov
more fancy than judgment, and quick to de
side. He has but little affekshun for a hoss,
and only luvs him for the cheat that iz in him.
He iz all wus reddy to trade for enn}' thing
frum a yerling kolt to a kavalry hoss that
General Butler rode at the battle ov Brandy
wine. He never knows when he gits cheated,
and ever thinks that the last nag he got iz
the best one he ever owned. He iz not both
ered with too much konscience, and would az
soon lay out a traveling preacher in a swap
az his own father-in-law, and do it without
enny malice, but jest for the honor ov the
profeshun.
I don’t know why it iz that a man kan trade
kows and be pins, or swap oxen and be a
good deakon, or even negoshiate dogs and be
looked upon favorably ; but when he goes into
the hoss biziness enterprise, if he kant cheet.
he has missed his calling and ain’t happy.
The hoss jockey iz sumtimes honest from
policy, but needs az much wotching az a
sworm ov b’s doo who are just getting readdy
to sworm. Josn Billings.
The Yankee Pedlar.
Probably the sharpest man that the world
haz bin blest with thus far iz the natral born
Yankee pedlar. He takes to the bizness just
az handy az a yung duk takes to the
who haz bin hatched out by mistake amung
a lot ov hen’s eggs. He kan see just whare
the proffit lies in a dicker, an aint afrade to
invest his whole pile, at a minnitt’s notiss, in
an assorted lot ov goose yokes. He begins
life yung, and like the bizzy ant, gits up arly,
and eats on the run. Az long az he keeps
honest he iz sure to sukceed, but sumtimes
hiz genius iz too mutch for hiz integrity, and
every boddy gits to be az frade ov him az
they are ova hornet. The hornet iz the
smartest bug in kreashun, but haint got no
friends. The world luvs to be cheated, but
they want to hav it dun bi an honest man,
and not bi a hornet, and then they never seem
to git tired ov it. I have seen Yankee ped
lars who allwus cheated every boddy they
traded with, but they allwus did it so honest
and square, that every boddy seemed to be
happy when their turn kum. But the old
fashioned Yankee pedlar, with hiz little red
painted kart, and bobtail pony, like the let
terings on the mile stuns, iz fast fading away.
Josh Billings.
“Pull Down Your Vest.”
When a man ssxys, “ Pull down your vest,”
he means for you to treat. The following is
good:
“ You keep vests, my frient ?” said a Dutch,
man entering a Fulton clothing store the oth
er day. The clerk promptlj' averred that the
store was crammed with them.
“I vant a vest,” said the Teuton, “vat don’t
rise up on it’s hint legs mit the neck. I
bought von in Syracuse not long ago mit a
dow dollar bill, and py shimminy I don't no
tice dot myself, but everywhere I go the boys
gry out mit der streets, *Yacub! vy in der
name of der board of drustees don’t you pull
down your vest ?’ and py tam I have pulled
dot vest more’n dree dousand dimes, till I
wore all the pindings off mit de puttons.”
The clerk explained the joke and sold him
a vest, and the old man went out with the
exclamation: “Py shimminy, I don’t hear
somethings about dot over in Shermany be
fore.”
THE FARM.
The Sweet Potato as a Paying Crop.
Dr. H. A. Swasey, editor of the Southern
Plantation. Montgomery, Alabama, talks di
rectly to the point in the following article
taken from his paper of a late date :
“We very much doubt that there is, in the
whole catalogue of Southern crops, a single
one that is more profitable than the sweet po
tato. Even in the middle and northwestern
States, it is one of the indispensable elements
of successful farming—here, it is emphatical
ly one of the sine qua nons , and we have often
been surprised to see how subordinate it has
generally been kept in prevailing systems of
Southern husbandry.
In England, great stress is laid on their
turnip crop, of which it has been said by one
of their wisest statesmen that the British na
tion could better dispense with its navy than
its turnips. In the North, both the turnip
and Irish potato crops are a main reliance as
a winter feed—without them sheep, hogs and
people would have but a sorry time of it dur
ing these long, dreary months when they are
completely shut out from all other green for
age. We have, hundreds of times, heard
Southern fanners regret that they could not
raise turnips and Irish potatoes here as they
do in those more favored (?) climates of the
North and Europe—sighing for a shadow
when the substance lies right at their feet.
To those who have fully tested the respective
value of these various root crops, the ques
tion of the superiority of the sweet potato
over the other two is no longer a debatable
one. Pound for pound, the sweet potato is
far more valuable for all feeding purposes
than the Irish potato, and immeasurably so
than the turnip. All stock are especially
fond of it, and thrive upon it as they do upon
no other green food. Where other root crops
derive their chief nutritive qualities from the
starch they contain, and which before assim
ilation, must be converted into sugar, the
sweet potato contains the sugar itself, thus
tasking the digestive organs to a far less de
gree than in the case of almost any other
food. So far as we are concerned, we would
not exchange our sweet potatoes for all the
Irish potatoes, turnips and sugar-beets the} 7
are so self-laudator} 7 over both in Europe and
the North—acre for acre we can, in this
Southern crop, beat them two for one in all
the nutritive elements. It is not pretended,
of course, that for a general market crop, the
sweet potato should supercede the staples
already in cultivation, but we speak of it as
a home crop to be used on the farm or sold
in near local markets. For these purposes it
is certainly unrivalled in profit as well as in
facilities for general production. Nor is its
general market value a matter to be wholly
ignored. The increasing demand for the
early vegetable productions of the South that
has sprung up in the Northwest within the
last few years has made an opening for the
sweet potato crop that has largely increased
its profit to the producer. For the last two
or three years much of the early crop has
been shipped to Northern markets, and this
has had the effect to greatly enhance the price
to home consumers. Last year the price for
good table qualities ranged from $2 to $3 per
bushel, even as late as the first of October,
and all through the fall and winter they were
far above the old time prices.
When we take into consideration the fact
that on poor piny woods lands over 500 bush
els to the acre have been raised—in one re
corded instance over 700!—we can easily
see how immensely profitable it may be made
at even 50 cts. per bushel. We toil and
struggle at least ten months to get a cotton
crop to market, that after all, nets us perhaps,
where everything is favorable, ten dollars per
acre profit, and neglect a crop that occupies
us not one-half the time and yields us double
the income !
Brother farmers, think of these things and
turn over anew leaf in favor of those crops
that pay best, even if they are a little less
aristocratic.
# #i
IdpT often hear persons disputing about
the age of sheep, to my surprise be it said.
For them to tell the age of a sheep nothing
is easier. A sheep’s front teeth, the first
year, are eight in number, appearing all of a
size. Second year the middle ones are shed
out and replaced by two much larger than the
others. The third year two very small ones
appear—one on either side of the eight. At
the end of the fourth there are six large teeth.
Fifth year all the front teeth are large. Sixth
year all begin to show wear—not till then.
IdPMr. M. A. Dickson has furnished the
State Line Press with the following recipe,
which he says is an unfailing remedy for hog
and chicken cholera: Take May apple root,
boil it until it is very strong, and then thick
en with meal. It should be given three times
a day.
Legal Weight.
The following is the Legal Weight of a
bushel, as fixed by an Act of the General As
sembly, approved February 20th, 1875 :
Wheat, .... 60 pounds.
Shelled Corn, 56 “
Ear Corn, - - - - 70 “
Peas, - 60 “
Rye, - 56 “
Oats, - - - 32 “
Barley - - - - 47 “
Irish Potatoes. - - 60 “
Sweet Potatoes, - - 55 “
White Beans, - 60 “
Clover Seed, - 60 “
Timothy, - - 45 “
Flax, - - 56 “
Hemp, - - 4-1 “
Blue Grass, - - 14 “
Buck Wheat, - 52 “
Unpeeled dried Peaches, * - 33 “
Peeled dried Peaches, 38 “
Dried Apples, - . 24 “
Onions, - • - 57 “
Stone Coal, - 80 “
Unslaked Lime, - - 80 “
Tiirnips, - - 55 “
Corn Meal, - - 48 “
Wheat Bran, - 20 “
Cotton Seed, - 30 “
Ground Peas, - - - 25 “
Plastering Hair, - 8 “
BARGAINS!
NEW GOODS 5 REDUCED PRICES!
STANLEY & PINSON,
HAVE JUST RECEIVED A FULL ASSORTMENT OF
Dry Goods, Groceries, Hats, Caps, Boots, Shoes, Hardware, Earthenware, Hollow
Ready-Made Clothing,
Ladies’ and Misses Dress Goods, of various styles ; Medicines, Drugs, Dye-Stuffs p •
Oils, A FULL VARIETY OF NOTIONS to please the little children as well t5 ’
those of a larger growth. All of which, together with many other things **
Will be sold Cheaper than Ever,
D ?g E T P F L°A R c G E 7} FOR CASH. {fee.
The Old Reliable!
(ESTABLISHED IN 1858.)
Deupree Block, Athens, Ga.
The Farmers of Jackson County and surrounding country
are most respectfully ashed to visit our establish
merit and, examine those Celebrated
IRON FOOT PLOW STCOKS.
Refer to 11. W. Bell, Rev. F. Starm, Jackson Hancock.
WE ALSO KEEP A FULL LINE OF EVERYTHING
kept in a first class hardware store
SUMMEY, HUTCHESON & BELL
ATHENS, GA., Dec. 25, 1875. 3m
WARRANTED 'fTVI YEARS!
Zt requires no Instructions to run It. It can not get out of ordir.
Zt will do every class and kind of work.
Zt urill sour from Tissue Paper to Harness Leather.
Zt is as far in advance of other Sewing Machines in the magnitude of
its superior improvements, as a Steam Car ezcolla in achievements
the old fashioned Stage Coach.
Prices made to suit the Times,
Either for Cash or Credit.
** Send ß^ B nM%VT^ ogue of } agents wanted.
Address i WILSON SEWING MACHINE CO.
CLEVELAND, OHIO, CHICAGO, ILL., ZTE'W TOSH, V. Y,
OHLSAITS, LA., £T. LOUIS, MO.
PENDERGRASS & HANCOCK
Would Respectfully Call tiie Attention of
CASH BUYERS $ PROMPT-PAYING CUSTOMER
TO THEIR
NEW STOCK OF FAT.T, GOODS,
Which consists of
THE BEST PRINTS at 10 cents per yard,
FINE BRANDS OF BLEACHING at 12£ and 15 cents per yd.
GRANITEVILLE DRILLING at 12£ cts. per yard.
BRUMBY’S BROGAN SHOES, $1.75 per pair.
MEN I BOYS’Ready-Made CLOTHING
OF THE LATEST FALL STYLES.
Ladies’ Hats and Bonnets, Artificial Flower's, Ribbon,
The Largest stock of Boots and Shoes
THAT HAS EVER BEEN BROUGHT TO JEFFERSON!
CHEAPER THAIST EVER, !
LARGE STOCK OF OVERSHOES, Umbrellas, &c,
SADDLES, BRIDLES, COLLARS
FACTORY JANES, Cassimeres, Cotton
Osnaburgs, Checks, Shirting, Bleaching,
TICKINGS, BLANKETS, &c.
LADIES’ and<l ENTS* SHAWLS,
Linseys, Flannels, &c.
Crockery and Glass-Ware!
A SELECT STOCK of LAMrS AND CHIMNEYS
PAINTED BUCKETS, CEDAR BUCKETS, WELL BUCKETS, sc.
LARGE STOCK OF HARDWARE, Table Cutlery, Pocket Cutlery, &c.
Hats and Caps,
FULL LINE OF NOTIONS,
Drugs and Patent Medicines, Glass, Putty,
Spice, Pepper, Soda, Salts, Blue Stone, Copcras, &c.
KEROSENE OIL!
nPOPFPICC COFFEE, TEAS, MOLASSES, SYRUPS, LARD,
Ml\ V VCIvlC9| CHEESE, FLOUR, BACON,
ALL TOILET ARTICLES, Perfumery,
HAIR OIL, TOILET SOAPS, &c.
GPMn fact almost everything except artificial teeth, tombstones and playing cards-
October 16, 1875. !3PCaII and see us when you conic to ~