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CHOICE STORY.
THE COOK’S BOY.
BY BYL VAN US COBB, JK.
Our ship was lying in Gibralter harbor.
The day had been a remarkably pleasant
one, and hundreds of people from the shore
had been on board to examine our specimen
of Uncle Sam's naval architecture. After
the hammocks had been “piped down,” a
knot of old ocean's hardy sons collected be
neath the topgallant forecastle, which place
Was their regular “forum.” Old Ben Miller,
our second boatswain's mate, had been quite
sober and thoughtful during the latter part of
the afternoon ; and upon being asked the oc
casion of it, be said that he had seen some
thing that brought to his mind a thrilling cir
cumstance of by-gone days. We knew there
was a yarn on the tapis ; and collecting about
the old mate, we awaited its delivery. He
knocked the ashes from his pipe, put it in
his pocket, and then charging his month with
a generous piece of tobacco, be commenced ;
and this is the yarn he spun :
“It is bow fifteen years ago that I was a
foremast hand on board the old ship ‘Hun
ter.’ She was from New York, and bound
to India. A man by the name of Adam War
ren, who was one of the owners, had taken
passage, and with him were his wife and
daughter. The latter was one of the sweet
est, prettiest little creatures I ever saw, only
about twelve years old, and as blithe as a
lark. They called her Judith. Oh, it would
have done your souls good to have seen her
skipping about the deck !—now hiding in a
coil of rigging; now pulling at some rope,
and then clapping her little dimpled hands
ns she repeated the orders of the captain.
Her merry laugh rang through the ship like
the notes of our own native robin, and the
sun seemed to be envying her brightness.
Her father was one of your business men—
a right down dollar hunter, who didn't seem
to care for much else than the purchase and
sale ol his cargo ; and as long as his child
was well and lmppy, he seemed to take but
little notice f her ; though, I must say, he I
was a kind hearted man when you could
bring it out. Judith's mother was one of
your city aristocracy—a proud, overbearing
woman, who seemed to think there was no
body of any consequence only herself—and
the smell of tar made her sick. When she
was on deck, she always kept a smelling-bot
tle at her nose, and I tell you the truth when
I tel! you that her nose was fairly cockbilled
by her eternal snwilling at that same bottle.
“ We had a hoy on board named Luke Win
ship, only fourteen years old, who had been
put into the galley to help the cook. He was
a noble little fellow, though we hadn't then
exactly found it out.
“One evening after we had entered the
southern tropics. Luke was sitting upon a
spar that was lashed against the galley, and
Judith Warren came along and sat down by
his side.
“ 4 What makes yon look so sober, Luke ?’
she asked, in a silvery tone of real kindness.
“ ‘ I was thinking, Miss Judith,* returned
the cook's boy ; and as he spake, he gazed
into the face of the girl as though she was
one whom lie could almost worship.
" 4 Don't call me miss. I don't like it, Luke.
But tell me what you were thinking about. If
ever I have troubles, it always does me good
to tell them to somebody. Now tell me of
yours.’
“ * It couldn’t interest you, Judith, to hear
the story of a poor boy like me.’
“‘Oh, yes, it could !’ the little girl cried,
clapping her hands together with much ear
nestness. 4 You were thinking of your father
and mother.’
“ 4 Alas ! I have none.’
“ 4 No parents ?’
- 4 No!’
“ * Then you were thinking of your brothers
and sisters.’
*“I have no relations on earth, Judith!’
As Luke said this, he drew his greasy sleeve
aeross his eyes to wipe awn}’ the drops that
were springing forth.
“The little girl gazed into Luke’s face with
a look of pity and sorrow that seemed to
make her tender heart bleed.
“ ’Tell me your story. Come, do,’ she said ;
and she laid her hand so affectionately upon
the boy’s arm, and looked so kindly at him,
that he began to weep again.
“ 4 It is but a short story—a few words will
tell it all,’ Luke returned, as he struggled like
a giant to keep back his emotions. ‘My
mother died when I was only four years old,
and before my father had taken the mourning
weed from his hat, he, too, was laid in the
cold grave. They were, both of them, good,
kind parents; and after my father was bu
ried, I sat upon his grave all night long and
cried. O, Judith, you don’t know what it is
to lose a father or mother! but to lose them
both ! Yes, you know something how you
would feel. In the morning they came and
took me away from the little churchyard, and
a man who lived near the cottage my father
had hired, gave me some breakfast.
“ 4 My parents were very poor; and after
the funeral expenses were paid, there was not
a cent left. 1 knew of no relations, I knew
not that I had one on the earth, and I was
sent to the almshouse! There I staid till I
was nine years old. and during that time I
suffered more than words can ever tell. It
wasn't bodily suffering, for I had enough to
eat and drink, and clothes enough to wear;
but it was the suffering of the heart. I went
to school part of the year ; but I wasn’t like
the other school boys. I was a poor-house
child, and they shunned me. If they had
done no more than this, I should have been
content; but they taunted me with my mis
fortune and made light of my orphanage. If
they had known what pain their words gave
me, I don’t believe they would have spoken
them ; but they knew not ray feelings, and
why should they ? They had never suffered
like me, and they realized nothing of the
crushed spirit that was battling against the
cold cruelty of their sneers.’
“‘Poor Luke!’ murmured Judith; and
when the boy looked into her face, he found
that she was weeping.
•“At length,’ he continued, after he had
wiped his eyes, ‘an old farmer took me from
the almshouse, and set me at work upon his
farm. At first, I felt very thankful, but I
soon found that I was worse off than before ;
for I was ill-treated, and I had to work like a
dog. The farmer's wife was a hard-hearted
woman, and she often beat me. That was
worSe than all the rest, for I never deserved
it, nor did I openly complain. I staid with
G ie man over four years; but matters grew
tjorse and worse, and often when I went up
p my little bed in the garret of the barn, did
_ pray that I might die before I awoke again.
But I lived on, and 1 lived only to suffer. At
length I resolved that I would bear it no lon
ger. One dark, stormy night I secured a few
crusts of bread, and after the folks had retir
ed, I stole out from the barn and ran away.
For nearly a fortnight I travelled on, and at
length I reached the city of New York : but
even there 1 dared not remain, so I went j
down to the wharves to see if I could not get!
some chance on board some ship. I found '
this ship was on the point of sailing. I told !
my story to (’apt. Flaton. and he took me on !
board. lam well treated here, but yet I
cannot help, at times, thinking of the scenes
through which I have passed. I can see the
sweet face of my mother as she breathed her
dying blessing; and I can see the pallid
cheek and sunken eves of my father as he
took me by the hand and made me promise
that I would ever be honest and virtuous.—
God knows I have most faithfully kept that
promise, and I always will.’
“Little Judith wept as though she had her
self suffered all she had heard; but she was
not the only one who had heard Luke's sto
ry ; for. as he closed it. Mr. Adam Warren
moved carefully away from the other side of
the galley, where he had been standing all
the while.
“At this moment, Mrs. Warren came up
from the cabin, in a terrible flurry, in search
for her child.
44 ‘Where is Judith ?’
“‘Here I am. mamma.’
“Mrs. Warren started forward, and saw
her child just rising from the side of Luke.
“‘What on earth are you doing here ?’
“‘Luke lias been telling me a story.’ re
turned the little girl, as her mother led her
aft.
‘“Don't you let me see you talking with
that dirty boy again. It's horrible, Judith,
for you to be contaminated with such low,
filthy company !’
“ Luke heard these words, and I could see
j the heaving of his bosom, and the quivering
of his lip, ns they fell upon his ear. He arose
and went into the galley, and pulled the door
: to after him.
“We doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and
were standing up into the Indian Ocean. It
was in the afternoon. The old ship was un
der double-reefed topsails and reefed courses,
with the wind blowing hard on the larboard
quarter. Little Judith was on the poop, hold
ing on upon the weather mizzen topmast
backstay. Her father was there, too, and he
was gazing upon his child with a sort of cal
culating pride. The mate was throwing the
log, and Luke Winship had been called up
to hold the reel. Just as the glass was turn
ed and the log-line checked, one of the men,
who was looking off to the windward, utter
ed an exclamation of surprise, and in turning
in the same direction we saw one of those
solitary mountains of water, that seem as
though they had been months in collecting,
rolling down upon us. Instinctively, those
upon the poop grasped the rigging for sup
port, dropping the reef and log-line to take
care of itself. Judith, I said, was at the
weather backstay ; but as she saw the giant
sea towering above her, she involuntarily let
go her hold and started toward her father;
but she was too late. The ship was struck
upon the quarter ; she reeled and staggered
beneath the blow; Judith was dashed to lee
ward, and on the next moment she was over
board ! Her father uttered a frantic cry r and
sprang to the Ice shrouds. The men gazed
into the boiling surge where the broken sea
was whirling in one wild vortex, but they
dared not brave the mad terrors of the scene.
“*0 God ! My' child, my child !’ cried the
frantic father; and while yet he strained his
eyes, upon the place where the girl was being
tossed by the loam-covered sea, a light form
brushed past him. and plunged into the flood.
It was Luke Winship.
“‘Cut away the life-buoy !’ shouted Captain
Flaton. ‘Cut it away quick ! Both of them !
Down with the helm ! Give them a surge
to leeward ! Cut away the boat-lashings !
All hands on deck here ! Who'll go in the
boat? Spring to the head braces!’
“All hands were quickly on deck. The
mate was the first in the stern-boat; I was
the second, and five more quickly followed.
We got out the oars, and then the falls were
eased carefully olf till the boat touched the
water. We unhooked and started off, and as
soon as we were clear, the ship’s head yards
were braced sharp up, the mainsail clewed
up. and she was laying-to with her main-top
sail aback.
“Luke struck out boldly for the little girl,
and though the sea heaved him about most
fearfully, yet he reached her just as she was
sinking. lie caught her b} r the waist, and
with a strength which was surely superhuman
to him, he held her head above water. The
angry surge had swept off to lee-ward, and
the boy and girl now rose and fell upon the
bosoms of the long waves. Both the life
buoys were driven past them. Luke's strength
began to fail him, but still lie held the form
of the insensible Judith, v He began to wav
er, and twice his head sank beneath the sur
face of the running sea; but as he arose
the second time, the boat had reached him,
and I caught him by the collar of his jacket,
lie was fairly insensible when I touched
him; but his grasp upon Judith was like a
death-grip, and soon they were both safe in
the boat.
“We reached the ship in safety. Mrs. War
ren had fainted ; but the husband caught the
form of his daughter and rushed to the cabin,
whither Luke was also conveyed, and ere
long they were both brought back to con
sciousness. Mr. Warren pressed the boy to
his bosom, and promised to be a father to
him, and even the rejoiced mother did not
hesitate to look kindly upon the preserver of
her daughter.
44 It was some time before Luke recovered ;
but when he did get about, he went not back
to the cook’s galley, but waited upon the ca
bin. He was now allowed to associate freely
with Judith; and many an hour did I sec
them sit together upon the poop, listening to
each other’s simple stories. Sometimes Mrs.
Warren looked'nervous when she saw them
thus, but she dared not forbid it; public
opinion was too strong against the prejudices
which she still cherished, though in a modi
fied form.
“We anchored in the Hoogly, and Mr. War
ren went to Calcutta. He took Luke Win
ship with him ; and from that morning till
to-day, I saw him not again. Shipmates, you
noticed that man with whom I was talking
on the quarter-deck, this afternoon, didn’t
you ?”
“Yes,” we all returned.
“And you noticed that splendid-looking
woman by his side ?”
“ Yes, yes.”
“ Well,” resumed old Ben, as he brushed
away a tear from his bronzed cheek, “that
was Luke Winship. That woman was Judith,
and she is now his wife. Fifteen years have
passed away since we parted at the gangway
of the old ship ‘Hunter,’ but he knew me the
moment he saw me. and so did Judith. He
is now a rich merchant, doing a heavy ship
ping business in New York, and is up here
on business. He made the captain promise
that I should go on shore and visit him to
morrow. ‘Ben,’ said he, as he shook me by
the hand, 4 1 am rich, but I have never for
gotten, nor broken, that sacred promise I
made to mj r father on his death-bed.’ And,
shipmates, I don’t believe he ever has.”
As the old boatswain’s mate closed his
yarn, he turned slowly, thoughtfully away, i
and went below, and soon afterward we all
followed his example. No remarks were
made by those who had heard the story ; but
I could see that the sentiments it inculcated
had reached their hearts, and excited their
noble sympathies.
SUNDAY READING.
None Faultless.
A friend, who has a great liking for a good
horse, once said to me that he had been seek
ing for a perfect horse for forty j-ears, but
without success. During this time he lias
been the owner of many horses, and some of
them good ones; but not one of them all
was faultless. This one had some physical
defect; that one was vicious; another was
skittish ; another was lacking in speed ; and
so on to the end of the chapter. Not one of
them all came up to his standard of horse
perfection.
And so is it with respect to the human
kind. There is no one of all the race of man
faultless. With the single exception of the
Lord Jesus Christ, who was born without sin,
no one of all the human family has developed
a perfect character. “If we say that we have
no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is
not in us.”
There may be persons distinguished for
their various excellencies. There may be
those possessing much amiability. There
may be those whom, like the young ruler,
the Saviour loved : yet, like him, they are all
lacking in someone or more essential. So
do they appear in the sight of God, who
searches the heart, and so do they appear in
the view of all who are intimately acquainted
with them. There is something about every
person that detracts from his excellence,
something that needs elimination. There is
something in him that needs to be pruned
away, before lie can be prepared for the fault
less society of the heavenly world.
And this is what God is doing with respect
to all those whom lie is preparing for that
world. By one means and another, by all
his discipline of them here, he is refining
them, and fitting them for that blest abode,
where all shall be perfect even as he is per
fect. He is thus making them meet to be
partakers of the inheritance of the saints in
light. The process in some instances may
be painful. It may be hard for poor human
nature to bear. But let U 9 be patient and
submissive. The work will soon be complete,
and the result glorious. When He shall have
tried us, we shall come fortli from the fur
nace as gold. There will be no dross remain
ing in us, there will be no adhering imperfec
tion. We shall be without blemish and with
out spot. Of the saints in heaven it is said :
“ These are they that have come out of great
tribulations, and have washed their robes,
and made them white in the blood of the
Lamb.” 11. S.
—New York Observer.
Do a Little.
Many a Christian destroys his peace and
usefulness because lie is not willing to do lit
tle things, lie wants to speak and pray well,
eloquently, edifying or not at all. Because
he can’t do some things great, he won’t do
anything. He must sit in the highest seat, or
nowhere. Now, no brother is fit to do large,
unless he is willing to do little things. He
must be faithful in the least, or he will never
be useful in the greatest. Can you make a
good minister outof a poor la} r man?oragood
elder out of a man who is unwilling to do the
least honorable duties of a church? If all
were willing to add a little to a prayer meet
ing. a Sunday School or to the strength and
influence of the church, there would not be so
many praying to be excused. If we were
willing to he weak, make simple prayers and
speeches when we can do no better, we should
pray oftener, belter, and in ever}' way do more
good. Happy is the man who is willing to do
a little, to be the servant of all, a door-keeper,
fire-builder, lamp-lighter, anything that will
serve Christ in the house of God.
#
Growing Old Gracefully.
Spurgeon says : “I do not know a more
beautiful sight on eartli than a man who has
served his Lord for many years, and who hav
ing grown gray in service, feels that in the
order of nature lie must soon be called home.
He is rejoicing in the first fruits of the Spirit
which he has obtained, but he is panting after
the full harvest of the Spirit which is guaran
teed to him. I think I see him sitting on a
jutting crag by the edge of the Jordan. listen
ing to the harpers on the other side, and wait
ing till the pitcher shall be broken at the foun
tain, and tlie wheel at the cistern, and the
spirit shall depart to God who gave it. A
wife waiting for her husband's footsteps, a
child waiting in the darkness of the night till
its mother comes to give it the evening kiss,
are portraits of our waiting. It is a pleasant
and a precious thing to wait and so to hope.”
A Boy’s Reproof. —During the sudden
rise of the Spring River in southwest Mis
souri, on the twenty-seventh of May, 1872, a
family were obliged to seek safety on the
house-top. The father, in trying to prevent
a drifting log from striking the house, used a
fearful oath, when his little boy, Charlie, not
five years old, looked up earnestly, and said,
“ 0, pa, don't swear so; you had better pray /”
Then turning to his mother, who was also
unconverted, he asked her to pray too. The
simple yet powerful reproof of the little boy
resulted in the conversion of both the parents,
and they are now members of the Church of
God.
The ordinary injunction to boys is. be men ;
but we would say, be boys. A boy has no
business to be a man until be grows into one ;
besides, it is just as worthy a thing to be a
boy—a true, heroic boy—as it i to be a man.
Our duty is to fill faithfully the places in
which we are, knowing that the occupant
adorns the place, rather than the opposite.
If you are a noble boy, you are all you can
be ; for a noble boy and a noble girl are just
as noble as a noble man and a noble woman.
Taking a cigar out of his mouth, the min
ister said to one of his parishioners, fond of
sleeping in sermon time, “There is no sleep
ing car on the road to heaven.” “And no
smoking car, either, I reckon,” 6aid the man
in reply, now wide awake.
THE FARM.
A Short Sermon.
Job v :23—And thou shalt be in league
with the stones of the field.
This is said of the good farmer. Nature
makes a tacit compact with him to furnish
him supplies for the privilege of growing on
his territory. The oak supplies shade for its
small tenure of land ; and the vineyard wine,
for the use of the trellis. The grasses, for
the occupancy of the waste fields, as so many
miniature fountains, undertake to pour plenty
into his dairy; and the beasts of the field
render a coy respect to the lord of the place
(Job v: 23). His house is his castle, and
great men of state bow respectively there.—
Birds and brooks are his retainers and he is
“in league with the stones of the field.” God
lias given him a title in fee simple to all that
lies round about him, and to all that runs
from that base to its apex in the centre of the
earth. He honors him more than the children
of men, because he has chosen the first pro
fession which God has taught the race. His
weapons are the pruning hook and plough
share, and from his fortified place he shall
laugh at destruction and famine (Job v:21)-
A little of all is his and he cannot be starved
out. Who has such a share in the cloud, the
sunshine and the dew, or such resources in
the earth ? He is the world’s natural prince,
who can afford to be generous without money,
and great without grandeur. Yet the degen
erate sons of men sell this heavenly birth
right for a “ mess of pottage.” For the real
property of life they consent to become the
retailers of the hoarded gew-gaws of cities.
For the solid value of a farmer’s home they
choose the unhonorable and perilous pilgrim
ages of speculation. Why should so many
of our strong armed men eschew the farm ;
the occupation which God most honors ; the
one station where man recognizes no superior
but the Supreme: the nursery of national
virtue and valor, and a kind of sanctuary
where every object leads the thoughts to God.
A farm is a little world, and the farmer the
deputed “ lord of all his substance.”
It is time that we restore this first and
prime occupation of man to its place of hon
or ; that we cease to degrade it to a place of
servility to other professions. The storms
and the flood, and the caterpillar, and the
depleted money current are God’s monitors
that we are dishonoring his primeval institu
tions. Visit a genuine cotton farm. It is a
dismantled castle. The vine trails on the
ground, the garden is broken down, the dwell
ing as it were struck by lightning, the fruit
trees lean with shaggy tops and broken arms
towards the earth, the porch the receptacle of
saddles, the hedges of snakes. A grand cot
ton field absorbs all the attention and all the
labor of men, women and children. Yet the
expected result proves to be a mirage in the
desert. The self-denial is without advantage,
the labor spent for that which is not bread.
It is a perversion and degradation of the
farm. Ours will begin to be, with God’s bless
ing upon it, one of the most prosperous of
countries, when we begin to honor our coun
try homes, when we put cotton, that has so
long fooled us, into its own corner on the
farm, where the cereals are cared for, where
the grasses carpet the fields, where there is a
stall for the ox, and a room upon the wall for
the wayworn traveler and the prophet.
We commonly hold responsible
for our poor success but ourselves. Bad luck,
bad government, heavy taxes, unreliable la
bor. Yet none of these things hurt us half
so much as our own bad schemes and short
cuts after money power ; and cotton-growing,
as a substitute for farming, has fairly disap
pointed us*in that hope. Then, unsuccessful,
unsettled, the farmer thinks of emigrating to
the West. But change of plan rather than
change of place only can remedy the evil.—
Social and governmental evils have their
origin and correction in us. Virtue, industry,
contentment, especially in the home of the
farmer, build up individual and national pros
perity.—Anderson Journal.
The Culture of Tobacco.
It is asserted as an established fact that
tobacco furnishes employment to more peo
ple than any other crop raised or article pro
duced. The estimated consumption of it in
the world is 1.312,500 tons, requiring over a
million persons to cultivate and prepare it
for market, and over 3,000,000 gain a liveli
hood directly by the world’s use of it. The
collections from tobacco, for thirteen years,
to 1875 inclusive, for the United States In
ternal Revenue, foot up the sum of $37,303,-
461. No plant is more universally used than
tobacco, and the farmer who raises it may
expect that he will soon find an appetite for
it, a want at least as great as the population,
and a universal market; every decade shows
a marked increase in its consumption and a
steadily growing marketdemand. The world’s
production of tobacco at the present day is
estimated at 26,000,000,000 pounds annually,
and notwithstanding the production is so im
mense, it is adulterated before it reaches the
consumer to a greater extent than any other
agricultural product.
tdFTn one sense the farmer is a manufac
turer. He changes his grass and corn into
beef, pork, wool, butter, cheese and a variety
of products. In another sense he is a chem
ist ; he so compounds manure with his soil
as to make available plant food. lie should
be an artist, so as to be able to produce beau
tiful groves, orchards and lawns. He is a
merchant because he sells the product of his
farm to feed the world, and yet he receives
less money than any one of the single branches
of industry' named, as a reward for his ser
vices and employed capital. How necessary',
then, that he should make the most out of the
soil he cultivates. In order to do that his
land must be in good order. —Georgia Grange.
{ hay while the sun shines.
A. A. BELL. P. A. SUMMEY. J. V. SPARKS, Ac t
BELL & Cos.,
suajswßs SUMMEY, HUTCHESON & BELL,
DEALERS IN
Hardware, Agricultural Implements,
JACKSON WAGONS, &c.
Beupree Block, Athens, Get.
GTWe are prepared to furnish, on short notice, CANE MILLS, EVAPORATORS
and the Celebrated BROWN COTTON GIN, at $3.25 per saw.
All the above at Factory Prices.
ATHENS , GA., July 15, 1876. 3m
WARRANTED FIVE YEARS!
It MQLuires no Instructions to run it. It can not get out of order.
It will do every class and kind of vrc:k.
It will sow from Tissue Taper to Harness Leather.
It is as far in advance of ether Sewing Kachincs in the magnitude cf
its superior improvements, as a Steam Car ezoc'J.3 in achievements
the old fashioned Stag© Coach,
Prices made to suit Ofcc Ti
Either for Cash or Credit.
j /■ GENTS WANTED.
Address: WILSON SEWING MACHINE CO.
CtBVStASD, OHIO, 03110.4.30, ZZZ., TKSZ, IT,
rrw esiaf™. r - -a
L. SCHEVENEUL & Cos.,
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Dfah'rs lit
American and Imported Watches,
Clocks, Jewelry, il ver and Plated Ware,
—{| BRIDAL PRESENTS,;]-
GUNS, PISTOLS, AMMUNITION, SPECTACLES, EYE-GLASSES, MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS,
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HAVING BEST AND EXPERIENCED WORKMEN, WE ARE PREPARED
To do Repairing and Gold and Silver Plating in superior stlye.
Athens, Ga.] CALL AAlsriD see TJS ! [July 31 ly
SCIENTIFIC FARMER.
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this and nothing less or more.
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Can be of use to every good farmer.
|n practice, most practical.
Enters every State and Territory.
Nothing like it published in the world.
To all who wish to farm profitably, it appeals.
|n all things truthful and accurate.
For one year, but one dollar,
jn every case, gives satisfaction.
Cheap, scientific, and reliable.
For one dollar sent to the publishers,
And your name and post-ottice plainly written,
Return mail will bring the first number.
Many dollars value is often wasted
Ere the best practice is discovered, and
Remember the Scientific Farmer saves and
earns money to the careful reader.
Address, SCIENTIFIC FARMER CO.,
Boston, Mass.
CFivc Copies, 75 rents each. novll
<3*l Q adny at home. Agents wanted. Outfit
and terms free. TlilTE A CO.. Augusta,
Maine. marll
p? a PC\ £\ per day at home. Samples
XO worth $1 free. Stinson &
Cos., Portland, Maine. marll
ESTRAY NOTICE.
—Jackson County.
All persons interested are hereby notified that
AY C Johnson, of the 24Gth District, (1 M. tolls be
fore J R Hancock, C II Reeves and E J Johnson,
freeholders of said District, as estrays, two mare
mules. One a black, with white nose, with a let
ter u S” on right shoulder ; about 15 hands high ;
supposed to be about 8 years old ; appraised at
SBO.OO. The other a mouse color ; some 14 hands
high ; appraised at $75.00 ; supposed to be some
6or 7 years old, with no noted mark. Described
and valued by said appraisers as above mentioned,
who also fix the price of keeping and feeding said
mules at 80 cents per day. The owner of said
estrays is required to come forward, pay charges
and take said mules away, or they will' be dealt
with as the law directs.
Given under my official signature. October 31,
1876. nov4 AVILEY C. IIOAYAED, Ord’y.
SQQQ^ an 't t> e ma(^e by every agent every
** a/v vmonth in the business we furnish, but
those willing to work can easily earn a dozen dol
lars a day right in their own localities. Have no
room to explain here. Business pleasant and hon
orable. Avomen, and boys and girls do as well as
men. AA e will furnish you a complete Outfit free.
The business pays better than anything else. AYe
will bear expense of starting you. Particulars free.
AY rite and see. Farmers and mechanics, their sons
and daughters, and all classes in need of paying
work at home, should write to us and learn all
about the work at once. Now is the time. Don’t
delay. Address
sep9 True & Cos., Augusta, Maine.
Sale.
AVi 11 be sold, before the Court House door, in
the town of Jefferson, Jackson county, Ga, with
in the legal hours of sale, on the first Tuesday in
December, 1876, to the highest bidder, all of the
real estate situate in said county belonging to tho
late Allen AA r hite, dec’d, to-wit: Sixty-five acres
of land, more or less, adjoining other lands of said
deceased, Robert AY T hite, L 1 Hutchins, Kiee,
Turner, and others, it being a part of the land
whereon said deceased lived at the time of his
death, and on which is situate the house and im
provements. Also, the remainder of said tract,
containing one hundred and fifty-five acres, more
or less, adjoining the other land, Robert A\ bite.
George Hays, Vandiver, and others; on this land
is no houses, except a small cabin ; about twentj
fivc acres of wood land, twelve acres bottom lan',
remainder in old pine field. On the first tracts
ten acres of bottom land, and the balance in ol
field. Sold for distribution. Terms, cash.
novll ROBERT AVIIITE. Adm r.
To tlie Working Gass.- We are now pre
pared to furnish all classes with constant cmpl°.'
ment at home, the whole of the time, or for thei
spare moments. Business new, light and pro
able. Persons of either sex easily earn from a
cents to $5 per evening, and a proportional sum
devoting their whole time to the business.
and girls earn nearly as much as men. I bat a
who sec this notice may send their address, *
test the business, we make this unparalleled one ■
To such as aie not well satisfied we will send o
dollar to pay for the trouble of writing FimP‘
ticulars, samples worth several dollars to co ‘
mence work on. and a copy of Home and lire' 5
one of the largest and best Illustrated P u b‘ ic
tions, all sent free by mail. Reader, if you ‘
permanent, profitable work, address.
sep9 Geo. Stinson A Cos., Portland, Mame-^
Jackson County.
AVhereas, John AAliite, Jr., Administrator
the estate of John AA'hite, Sr., deceased. 1114
application to me for Letters of Dismission
his administration of the estate of said decc •
representing that he has fully administered
estate— c( j
This is, therefore, to cite all persons conce
kindred and creditors, to show cause, if an ?
can, why said Administrator should not & c
charged from his administration, and r . eC ®" e srTi
ters of Dismission on the first Monday in Jam •
Given under mv official signature, this Bcpte®
her 20th, 1876. ' AVI LEY C. HOAA AIM
sep23 Ordinary
Look Out!!
ALL persons indebted to the undersgn c(
hereby requested to come and settle in
ately. Those failing to comply, may conte 1*
finding their notes and accounts in the ham ff yj
Attorney' for collection. A non-comphan
only test that matter, for I mean just^
Dry Pond, Ga., Nov. lltli. 1876. -t