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JACKSON CO. PUB. COM’Y, )
Proprietors. i
VOLUME Y.
Sib
Car
PUBLISHED BrYEIiY FKIDAY.
ROBERT S. HOWARD,
JEFFERSUs&r JACKSON CO ., G/c
)FKICE, N. E. (f)R. PUBLIC 'SQUARE, Uf-ST&IRS.
OF‘SUBSCRIPTION.
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Uept’ ihbertisements.
EOR6IA, Jackwon County.
Whereas, J. B. Pendergrass applies to me in
proper form for Letters of Administration on the
estate of N. 11. Pendergrass, late of said county,
deceased —
This is, therefore, to cite all persons concerned,
kindred and creditors, to show cause, if any they
can, on the first Monday in August, 1879, at the
regular term of the Court of Ordinary of said coun
ty, why said letters should not be granted.
Given under my official signature, this June
1879. junc27 11. W. BELL, Ord’y.
| 1 l OltLll, Jackson County.
Whereas, N. B. Cash makes application, in
proper form, for Letters of Administration on the
estate of Green Nance, col’d, late of said county,
deceased —
This is to cite all concerned, kindred and cred
itors, to show cause, if any they can, at the regu
lar term of the Court of Ordinary of said county,
on the first Monday in August, 1579, why said
letters should not be granted.
Given under my official signature, this June 23d,•
1879. june27 IT. W. BELL, Ord’y.
J aeksou ('otiuty.
Whereas, R. J. Parks represents to llte Court,
in his petition duly filed, that he has fully admin
istered the estate of G. W. Shamblv, late of said
county, deceased, and applies for Letters of Dis
mission from said estate—
This is to cite all concerned, kindred and cred
itors, to show cause, if any they can, on the first
Monday in August, 1879, at the regular term of
the Court of Ordinary ofsaid county, why Letters
ef Dismission should not ire granted the applicant.
Given under my official signature, this May 7th,
1879. 11. W. BELL, Ord’y.
| |EOKU(.t, Jaekson County.
Whereas, J. S. W. and T. N. McDaniel, Ad
ministrators of William McDaniel, late of said
county, deceased, applies to me for leave to sell
the land belonging to the estate ofsaid deceased—
This is to cite all persons concerned, kindred
and creditors, to show cause, if any they can, at
the regular term of the Court of Ordinary of said
eounty, on the first Monday in July, 1879, why
the leave prayed for should not be granted the
applicants.
Given under my official signature. May 20th.
1879. may3o 11. W. BELL, Ord’y.
j J KORGI.I, Jackson County.
Whereas, R. R. Wallis applies for Letters of
Administration upon the estate of W. Osborn,
late of said county, deceased—
This is to cite all persons concerned, kindred
and creditors, to show cause, if any, on the lirst
Monday in July, 1879, at the regular term of the
Court of Ordinary of said county, why said letters
should not be granted the applicant.
(iiven under my hand officially, this June 3d,
1879. juncG H. W. BELL, Ord’y.
| j IIOKGIA, Jackson County.
Whereas, It appearing to the Court that the es
tate of F. M. Whitmire, late of said county, de
ceased, is without a representative and not likely
to be represented—
This is, therefore, to cite all persons concerned,
kindred and creditors, that administration of said
estate will he vested in the Clerk of the Superior
Court, at the July term, 1879, of the Court of Or
dinary of said county. unless some valid objec
tions is made to his appointment.
Given under my hand, officially, this June 3d,
1879. june(> H. W. BELL, Ord’y.
Notice.
"VfOTICE is hereby given that at the August
-k' Term. 1879, of Jackson Superior Court, 1
shall seek to have removed the disabilities im
posed upon me by the granting of a divorce to
Aancy E. Gordon, whose relation to me as wife
dissolved at the August Term, 1870, of said
Superior Court.
JAS. H. GORDON, Applicant.
J. B. SILMAN, Att’y. may3o-God
MANHOOD: HOW LOST, HOW RESTORED!
Just published, anew cdi-
of li*. Culverweirs
Celebrated Ensay on the
Tithcal curt (without medicine) of Sperm ator
llUoka or Seminal Weakness, Involuntary Semi
nal Losses, 1 >i potency, Mental and Physical In
capacity, Impediments to Marriage, etc.; also,
Consumption, Epilepsy and Fits, induced by
s elt-mdulgence or sexual extravagance, &c.
ft3f*Price, in a sealed envelope, only six cents.
The celebrated author, in this admirable Essay,
clearly demonstrates, from a thirty years’ success
mi practice, that the alarming consequences of
self-abuse may be radically cured without the
dangerous use of internal medicine or theapplica-
Lon of the knife ; pointing out a mode of cure at
once simple, certain, and effectual, by means of
which every sufferer, no matter what lus condition
be, may cure himself cheaply, privately and
Lecture should be in the hands of
every youth and every man in the land.
Sent under seal, in a plain envelope, to any ad
dress, post-paid , on receipt of six cents or two
postage stamps.
Address the Publishers,
THE CULVER WELL MEDICAL CO.,
41 Ann St.. New York ; P. O. Box, 45SG.
■August 3d, 1878—ly
PATENTS^
I\A. Lehmann, Solicitor of American and
foreign Patents, Washington, D. C. All busi
ness connected with Patents, whether before the
■a tent Office or the Courts, promptly attended to.
yo charge made unless a patent is secured. Send
tor circular. Qct 19 —tf
The People their own Raters; Advancement in Education, Science, Agriculture and Southern Manufactures.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
MOTHER HAHAR;
OR,
The Amethyst Necklace.
“ There, take her out into the sunshine,
Jane, my little blue-eved rose-bud !”
She was a 6-months-old baby, with a com
plexion like peach-blossoms, and golden
brown hair, parted away from a pure fore
head, where the blue veiii3 shone through the
transparent skin like lines of sapphire.
“ Site is outgrowing that amethyst neck
lace.’ continued Mrs. Morgan, thoughtfully ;
“ vve must have another link of gold put on.”
On, a mother’s love ! llow it softened the
fite of those haughty eyes, and turned the
proud lin.es around the mouth to caressing
smiles. 'Mrs. Morgan’s fashionable acquain
tances wtfuid scared}' have known her now,
as she watched Jane sauntering out upon the
lawn with-Jier irffant charge. She was a very
hjflulsome Woman, dark-eyed and olive-cheek
ed, with shining curls of raven hair, and a
step like a Queen.
“ llow close it is !” she murmured, half
aloud, pushing aside the lace draperies that
veiled the wide-open window.
She rose, and, throwing a costly lace man
tle over her shoulders, went out into the sum
mer glow of the June afternoon, her fingers
between the leaves of the book she had been
dreaming over. As she passed the dia
mond sparkle of a large '“Fountain, whose
liquid streams rose into the air with a low,
musical murmur, a sudden rustle and foot
step startled her.
“ A 6-penn3'-piece, pretty lady—only a six
pence to cross the poor gypsy’s hand, and I’ll
tell you the sweetest fortune that ever fell to
mortal lot.”
She was a smoke-dried, swarthy-looking
old creature, with piercing black eyes, and a
sallow skin, half-hidden by the faded scarlet
cloak whose hood was twisted round her head.
Mrs. Morgan drew her skirts haughtily away
from their chance contact with the gypsy’s
travel-soiled garments.
“ Beware, woman !” she said, contemp
on the lawn.”
“ It’s only a little I ask, pretty lady ; tisn’t
much to the likes of you. Let the old gypsy
tell the fortune she sees in that lily-white
hand, all sparkling with stones like drops
o’ dew.”
Mrs. Morgan’s aristocratic features harden
ed. She drew back with a gesture of disdain.
Then she said, angrily, “If you do not im
mediately leave me, and cease this importunate
clamor, I will summon the attendants to turn
you from the grounds.”
‘‘Turn me from the grounds!” echoed the
hag, while her wrinkled face grew even a
shade sallower.
“ Yes; and have you lodged in the county
jail as a vagrant. I shall not nor will not
be annoyed in my own park with the im
pertinence of a miserable beggar-woman.”
“ Very well to talk of jail and vagrants, my
pretty' lady,” retorted the gypsy, half-stifled
with rage ; “ but you’d better not anger mo,
I can tell you ! Ay, you may look at me !
Look, and look as if you could strike me dead,
for there are dark days in store for you. I
see it in the glistening spots of your eye and
the lines about y'our rose red mouth. A time
will come when you will wish you had spoken
a trifle kinderto the ‘miserable beggar-woman.’
Remember what I say to you, lady ! My
words don’t often fall to the ground like the
dead leaves off yonder blasted tree !”
Saying which, she vanished through the
dense wall of blossoming shrubs. M rs. Mor
gan was alone, with a singular thrill, half of
superstitious fear, half scorn, at heart.
“ Booh !” she said ; “ what nonsense,paying
attention to an old gypsy’s angry' vitupera
tion. *
Then Mrs. Morgan sat down on a rustic
sent, where a spreading linden threw a circle
of shade on the grass, and began to read.
Nearly an hour had she been reading, when
Jane rushed out from the house, excitedly
crying: “Oh. Mrs. Morgan. I have lost her !
She’s gone ! What shall I do—what will be
come of me!”
“ Gone ! My baby gone?”
A scream of agony came from the mother’s
heart. Then she tried to speak, but couldn’t.
A thousand-pound weight seemed to press
her tongue down. The green seemed to sway
around her, and she lay motionless on the
ground.
•* It’s just as I’ve told you,” whimpered
Jane, as the servants carried the screaming
lady into the house. “She wanted to tell
my fortin’, and said we must have a teacup
turned upside down ; and when I come back
from fetchiif it, they were both gone—the
old woman and the blessed baby, which she
offered to hold for a minute. It wasn't my
fault —I'm sure it wasn't!”
All, all in vain were those months of eager
search and keen disappointment—those flat
tering hopes and sick fears. And years
crept by*, each one drawing a deeper shadow
over the occurrences of the past, and Mrs.
Morgan had the certainty* at last that she was
a childless mother.
*****
The dull December rain-drops were patter
ing steadily against the window of the close
and gloomy room where Madame Severe’s
half-dozen pallid apprentices were gathered
around a long table, heaped with lace and
ribbons, and costly dress materials. There
was a rustle of stiff silks at the door, and in
sailed Madame Severe—a portly, arrogant
woman, elaborately rouged, and decorated
with much heavy jewelry.
••Nearly finished the lace skirt, Miss
Judson?”
“ Nearly, ma’am.”
“ Well, you may leave it for Sarah. And
do you immediately go to Mrs. Morgan’s,
No~ 16 Harley street.”
Miss Judson looked shrinkingly out at the
crusts of rain that drove fiercely against the
window, beside which she was working.
“Through all this rain, raadame?”
“ Certainly,” returned the portly dame.
“ I don’t suppose you are going*to dissolve
for a few drops of rain.”
Miss Judson rose timidly, and began to
put her worn shawl and bonnet on, while
JEFFERSON, JACKSON COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 4,1879.
; Madame Severe talked only as a garrulous
! woman can talk,
“ You must be very expeditious. Miss
Judson. Time is money, you know. Take
i the measurements accurately—no blunders,
; mind, for it won’t pay' to offend Mrs. Morgan.
; She’s among our very best customers. Now,
quick about it J.”
How keenly the wind blew—how heavily'
the currents of rain swept against her tender
form, rendering all her attempts to keep warm
worse than useless. It was small wonder
that Anna Judson paused, sick and disheart
ened, to lean feebly' against a lamp-post and
take breath, before she was half through her
dreary journey. Her eye turned instinctively
down the close and narrow street of tumble
down houses opposite, a familiar and well
known location to Anna Judson.
“ I must rest a moment,” she murmured,
and, shivering, leaned her frail weight on the
friendly lamp-post.
“ I wonder how Mother Ilagar is getting
on ; I\> like to see the poor old creature who
has been so very, very kind to me.”
Scarcely had the thought suggested itself
to her mind, before she crossed the street,
and was gliding down the desolate and almost
deserted purlieus to which she had been ac
customed from a child. A few steps, and a
dismal alley-way came to view in all its filth
and dinginess. She turned into it, and ran
hurriedly up two or three flights of wooden
stairs, which led to the very top of an old
house. In the corner of a dark, dismal room
stood a pallet bed, upon which was stretched
a gaunt figure, with saffron-like skin, and
matted iron-grav hair.
“Anna!—is it you, darling?” came the
feeble voice.
‘■’Tis I, indeed, Mother Ilagar!” respond
ed the child, not without pressing her kind
lips on the shriveled forehead of the sick
woman. “ Are you better to-day, mother?”
“ Better!” echoed the hag, with a bitter
laugh. “No, child, I never expect to be
better any more. lam dying, I tell you !”
“ Dying !” and Anna threw herself on her
knees beside the pallet bed. “ Oh, no, Mother
Ilagar, don’t talk so! It makes me sick to
imagine I’m losing the only friend I ever ha*d
in the world—the only' person who loves
me !”
•* You arc right, so far,” said the dying
woman, with a low groan, “ for I do love you
as my own child. But, for all that, you
ought not to sorrow-much for me; indeed,
you wouldn’t if you knew the grievous wrong
1 did .you.”
“ You are light-headed this morning, Mother
Ilagar,” Anna soothingly said.
"Perhaps I am; it don’t matter much,”
the old woman responded, in a feeble voice.
“ But how does it happen that you are not
at work to-day?”
Then Anna spoke of Madame Severe’s in
junctions, and her intended visit to the houso
of a Mrs. Morgan, in Harley' street.
“Morgan—Mrs. Morgan !” repeated the
woman, raising herself on her elbow. “ That’s
strange—very' strange that Anna should be
going to work at Mrs. Morgan’s, and I here
on my death-bed. The priests are right—
there is a something stronger than fate 1”
“ Mother Hagar, what are you talking of?
I can't understand you this morning.”
“Listen, then, child,” said the old woman,
in quick, convulsive gasps. “ You've never
been there before; it’s a fine house, I’ve
heard. You shall wear the gay' gold necklace
you have seen me looking at sometimes—
the one with the amethyst clasp. It was a
baby’s necklace once, but it will be a pretty
bracelet now for y'our slender little arm.”
And she drew a quaint, old-fashioned orna
ment from beneath her pillow—a slender chain
formed of links of wrought gold, with a superb
purple stone blazing on the chased clasp—
and fastened it around Anna Judson’s wrist.
“ But, Mother Ilagar,” remonstrated the
astonished girl, “ 1 ought not to wear this
jewel; it is not in keeping with the rest of
ray dress.”
“ No matter—no matter! There will come
some good from you wearing it. If they’ ask
any questions, say' you wore it round your
neck when you were a baby.”
She sank back, pale and haggard.
“ Go, child—go !” she managed to ar
ticulate, pressing her hand tightly over her
heart. When the door closed, she mattered
to herself: " Did I not love the child so
well I might take the sweet revenge in ray
coffin along with me, for I am dying—dying !
But wrong enough already have I done her.
No one can say that Mother Ilagar is not
even with the proud lady' who would thrust the
old gypsy into a prison to rot—ha! ha! Her
threat came home to her well !”
Then the old gypsy sank away and died.
The fire blazed brightly in Mrs. Morgan’s
exquisite little dressing-room, where the
windows were curtained with folds of cherry
damask, and the foot sank half-ankel deep in
the rich, soft carpet. Mrs. Morgan, habited
in the deep mourning she had never laid
aside since a great life-sorrow shaded her ex
istence, sat in a luxurious chair before the
grate, musing over some half-read volume of
romance. Close by the window stood another,
a handsome brunette, with rosy cheeks and
almond-shaped eyes. She was anxiously
looking up and down the street, playing with
her dark curls rather impatiently.
•‘ Oh, here she comes at last; I thought
she would never be here,” said the spoiled
beauty ; and in a minute or two Anna Judson
was ushered into the room.
“ You are late,” ssid the brunette, petulantly.
“ I shall certainly inform Madame Severe of
your tardiness. But, good gracious, how
wet she is ! Don’t come near me !”
But when Mrs. Morgan saw the frail little
creature, her heart melted within her.
” Come to the fire, dear,” she kindly said;
then to the disdainful brunette, “ Bring me
a glass of wine, Nellie !”
“ Upon my word, Aunt Morgan,” said
Nellie, shrugging her shoulders and speaking
in an audible whisper, as Anna gratefully
took the glass of port wine, “you couldn’t
make any more of that dressmaker girl if she
were a Princess.”
“My dear,” said Mrs. Morgan, in an un
dertone, “ a kind word or deed is but a trifle
to us ; yet how much good it may do Heaven
only knows; and how much evil it may avert!
If I had spoken less harsh once—Yet it is
useless to repine now.”
She looked with gnawing lip into the coral
glimmer of the grate. Meanwhile, Anna rose
|in her quiet way, and began to remove her
| drenched shawl and bonnet. As the folds
|of the coarse tartan fell from her arm. the
; violet sparkle of the amethy'st streamed on
| Mrs. Morgan’s ey'e. With a faint scream,
and deadly pallor, she arose.
“ Child, where did you get that bracelet?”
Flic girl looked from Mrs. Morgan’s pale
face to the gleaming jewel, in mute surprise.
“Aunt Constance, are you mad?” exclaim
ed the brunette.
“ Where did it come from? llow did ysu
get it? Speak, or my brain will burst!”
reiterated Mrs. Morgan, breathlessly, grasp
ing the little, shivering creature’s arm.
“ Mother Hagar—that is,” stammered
Anna, remembering the message of the hag
—“ it is a necklace I used to wear round my
neck when I was a babe.”
“Turn—let me see youi^&etj!” gasped
Mrs. Morgan. “ Who ar(f you? Oh I who
are you?”
Anna told the brief story' of her sad life
how she had been brought up and apprentic
ed to Madame Severe by an old woman, who
was no relative, but whom she had learned to
call “ Mother Hagar.” When she had finished
the strange history, Mrs. Morgan folded the
weak, weary little seamstress in her arms,
murmuring, through happy sobs and hysteric
bursts of tears, “ My' daughter 1 My'own lost
love !”
Later in the day, Mrs. Morgan's carriage
was drawn up in front of the narrow alley,
and the pale lady in black ascended the creak
ing stairs to Mother Hagar’s room. But
death, the destroyer, had passed the threshold
—of which the reader is aware—and sealed
the eyelids into everlasting stillness. Mrs.
Morgan was too late.
There, on the narrow pallet-bed, with the
cold, gray shadows of the grave drooping
over her rigid face, and hands folded on her
pulseless breast, lay the grim old gypsy
woman, who, years before, foretold the dark
day's that had so surely come. And the
wrought links of the golden necklace, clasped
with amethyst, were all that bridged over the
great gulf of years that had lain belween'Mrs.
Morgan and her lost child.
Even so slightly' gleam the threads of
destiny through the warp and woof of our
daily life.
Cookery as a Fine Art.
[Excerpts from Miss Beds’ Lectures on Cooking,
at Hershey Hall, Chicago.]
Miss Dods appeared in a white apron, had
on the. stage a table filled with implements
relating t<the art of cuisine, and was assist
ed by a* handy mulatto woman in her illustra
tions. Her first lesson was in baking a Rus
sian fish pie. The ingredients she announced
first as ;
One-fourth pound butter.
One teaspoonfnl baking powder.
One gill cold water.
Half teacupful boiled rice.
Three hard-boiled eggs.
A little pepper and salt.
One pound fresh fish.
She then proceeded to show how she did
it, talking in a pleasant voice, with a strong
Scotch accent. She made a crust, and, when
rolled out, then placed the rice upon it, then
the hard-boiled eggs, and then the fish, cut
into pieces of convenient size. Then she
folded the crust over all, bringing the edges
together with the fish, rice, eggs, and the pep
per and salt in the center. The pie was then
placed in a floured baking pan and put in a
quick oven for three-quarters of an hour.
The oven was attached to a tin gas stove at
one end of the stage.
While the pie was baking, she explained
that to boil the rice no milk Was used* but,
having been washed in cold water, it was
thrown into plenty of boiling water and cook
ed. If there was not plenty of water, the
rice would stick together.
When the pie.was taken out it did look
delicious, to say the least.
Iler greatest triumph was with apple dump
lings, if looks indicated anything, for that
was all the way that reporters had of forming
an opinion. The lady took
Four or five apples, according to size.
Twelve oz. flour.
Four oz. butter.
One-half table-spoonful baking powder.
A half-pint cold water.
One oz. sugar.
First, she pared and cored the apples, with
out cutting them, taking four, hut if not so
large, she wdukl have taken five, and laid
them aside while she made the pastry. She
weighed out the flour, and mixed it with the
butter by kneading with the fingers. She
then added the baking powder before she
began to mix it, pouring In the water. If the
flour did not take up all the water, leave out
a little, as this dough must be firm. When
firmly kneaded she cut it into as many pieces
as she had apples, and rolled each piece into
a ball. Then she took the ball of dough in
the left hand and the apple in the right and
crowded the dough all around the apple,
drawing the edges together so as to complete
ly inclose it. Before closing it, however, she
dropped into the hole in the apple a spoonful
of sugar. Then the dumplings were placed
in a floured baking tin pan and put in the
oven for from twenty to thirty minutes, ac
cording tp the apples. The crust would al
ways be done, but sometimes it took a little
longer to cook the apples than at others.
When the dumplings had, been- in a ryiick
oven for twenty minutes, the teacher said
they might bo tried with a fork or skewer,
and if the apples were found to be soft clear
through they were baked enough. The dum
plings were put in the oven, and Dresden
patties, for oysters, were undertaken. To
make the patties Miss Dods took a loaf of
dry bread and cut it into slices about two
inches thick. They' were marked by a cutter
and the crust pared off. Then a deep cut
was made in the center with a small cutter,
but the pieces left in. The next step was to
dip the pieces of bread into milk, not holding
it in so as to soak it much. Then one
or?
Was beaten up in a platter and the bread
rolled in it. Next some sifted bread crumbs
were placed in a paper, and the bread rolled
in them. The pieces were theil pipped into
boiling lard and let bcil two minutes. They
were then taken out, let drip, and then the
cap off the cut made in the center by' the
small cutter was lifted, and, with & fork, the
inside was scooped out, and the pqtpie filled
with jelly or prepared oysters, lobsters, etc.,
and the cap placed back again.
The apple dumplings were dofte by this
time, and were taken out and glared with the
white of egg or milk, by means of brush,
and sprinkled with sugar, being put Wick into
the oven a few minutes to dry the^gtazing.
A lesson was then given in making cheese
cakes. There were put in a bowl two ounces
flour, two ounces grated cheese, two ounces
butter, and a little pepper and salt, a little
lemon juice and a small quantity of cayenne
pepper. These ingredients were put in in the
order named, and mixed to a dough, rolled
out like pic crust, and baked likegingersnaps.
Flie lesson closed with broiling steak and
making coffee in different wavs.
An Editor at the Wheel.
BY ELI PERKINS.
The ride down Red river on the steamboat
is one of the most charming rides to he taken
in this country. The lands are level on each
side, and from the “ texas” of the steamboat
you can see the farms extending hack from
the river. On the Red river and Winnipeg
lake are sixteen steamers. They all seem to
be doing well. The whole country is given
over to enterprise, work and fun. No joke
is too broad to be perpetrated on any one.
In our party was ex-Governor Bross, of the
Chicago Tribune. This was the Governor’s
second trip to Winnipeg—he having come
here in 1871, with Jay Cooke, Charles A.
Dana, Colfax, and a large party of excursion-,
ists. The Governor’s chief joy was to stand
in the pilot-house and steer the boat. Capt.
Alexander Greggs, ©four boat, the
was always ready for his joke, and he put up
a good one on Gov. Bross. He invited a
large party of ladies and gentlemen, includ
ing Gov. Couchon, of Manitoba, up in the
pilot house to see Gov. Bross steer the boat
—remarking to the ladies that he had in
structed the engineer to run the boat into the
bank. “Oh! I’ll show y r ou some jolly'
fun.”
When they all got there, there stood Gov.
Bross steering the Manitoba as fondly' as a
young lady drives her first span of horses.
After awhile Capt. Greggs disappeared be
low, and then the fun commenced. Gov.
Couchon was telling how a boat ran into the
bank and killed several passengers on a pre
vious trip. This made Gov. Bross a little
nervous. Then the Manitoba began to war
ble around—her bow went everywhere—and
then she suddenly took a sheer, went first
one way and then another, and then ran
straight into the Dakota bank.
“Great Heaven ! Whattfreyott doing ? Stop
her!” screamed the Captain.
“I can’t! Send someone up here ! Oh,
what have I done ?” exclaimed Gov. Brogs,
turning pale as ashes, while the passengers,
who were posted on the joke, only screamed
and laughed at his discomfiture.
“If I had been the means of killing any
innocent passengers, I should never have for
given myself,” said the Governor, trembling
ly, as he sat in the cabin wiping drops of
cold perspiration off his brow.
It was a longtime before we could get the
Gov. into the pilot-hpuse again ; but by-and
by he came up there and sat down. lie eyed
the pilot closely, saw just what he did, and
then he watched a lady passenger who steer
ed the boat as easity as you can drive a pair
of horses, l’retty soon the Gov. stood up and
said :
“ Now, lam an American. I see how that
wheel goes, and I know 1 can steer this boat.
I know 1 can.”
“Try it, Gov. Of course 3'ou can steer
it,” winking at the ladies.
“All right/* said the Governor. “Til try
it once more.” And then he took hold of the
wheel.
In a few raimftes the Captain disappeared.
He went down below and began to fool with
the rudder. Soon the boat began to play
pranks. Then she started for the bank, while
the ladies all screamed. The whistle blew,
the bell rang, and the boat went crashing
into the Willows.
“Oh! I’ve done’it again, confound it!
It’s all my fault!” exclaimed the Governor,
trembling from Load to foot as the Captain
S TERMS, $1.50 PER AN2TUK
} SI.OO For Six Months.
rushed up. "Ilaveidono airy damage—
have I, Captain TANARUS"
The Captain assured Govefnct Dross that
only two passengers were injured, and that
the boat could bo easily repaired.
“Oh, dear! Confound it! I wouldn't try
to steer another for ten thousand dol
lars! And it looks easy, tool'’ mused the
Governor as he went down stairs to anolo^ife
m * n * u
to the ladies.
The Governor will never know, till he picks
up a paper somewhere in Dakota, how it. was
about that steamboat; and then—Presbyte
rian or no Presbyterian —l believe ’lie will
swear all /to himself from Fargo clear to
Duluth.
What Garden Have You?
The best paying plot on any farm, and the
one yielding the most enjoyment, too, is the
Vegetable Garden—or “ kitchen Garden,’’
as it is frequently called, and quite appro
priately, especially when the “ Kitchen folks'’
have the chief or sole care of it. A good
supply of garden products for the table c osts
less than the standard bread, meat, and
potatoes, is more healthful and nourishing
than all corn beef, salt pork, and the small
assortment usually found on the farmer's
table. Need we add anything about palatable
ness, coinfort, home enjoyment? Contrast a
table set nearly the year round with bread;
salt pork, corued beef, potatoes, boiled
cabbage, varied with hash, mush, buckwheats,
and occasionally a few other items, with a
table well supplied in succession and abun
dantly with Asparagus, Green Peas, Dima
Beans, String Beans, Sweet Coni, liadishos,
Carrots. Beets, Parsnips, Celery, falsify.
Turnips, Cauliflower, Spinach, Lettuce, Egg
Plants, Tomatoes, (all the year). Rimlmrir,
Okra. Squashes. Onions, Cabbage, Cucum
bers (?), and other things,—filled in with
Currants, Strawberries, Raspberries, Black
berries, not to mention Grapes, Pears, etc. —
We do not accept the standing excuse, “ I
am too poor, too hard driven, too much to do
in my fields, to bother with the garden.’’
W e repeat, with emphasis, that every farmer
can have most, if not all the above pleasant
and healthful variety with lest labor ami lest
expense than the table can be supplied in any
other way. Every day’s work in the garden
will produce several dollars' worth of good
things. One quarter of an acre, more or less,
according to the siao of the family/ will suf
fice. Select the best soil available, as near
the house as possible, but at a distance if
absolutely necessary. A good loam where
water never stands is desirable. Heavy clay
will net do Well Without a good deal of prepara
tion. If not naturally dry. underdraining is
desirable, but oven an open ditch around the
plot, and one or two through it if needed, may
answer for the present. Plow and harrow'
fine, working in a liberal supply of the best
well rotted manure that can be obtained—
half a wagon load on every square rod will
be all the better, lut much less Can bo got
along with. The direction for plautiug,
cultivation, etc., arc given in our “ Flints for
Work,” from*time to time, beginning back to
the Fedrusry number. For the best varieties
of vegetables, see article on page 84 of March
number.— From American Agriculturist for
April:
Advantages of Crying.
A Frenclkphysician is out in a long dis*
sertation on the advantages of groaning and
crying in general, and especially during sur
gical operations. He contends that groaning
and crying are two grand operations by which
nature allays anguish ; that those patients
who give way to natural feelings more
speedily recover from accidents and opera
tions than those who suppose it unworthy'a
man to betray such symptoms of cowardice
as either to groan or cry.
He tells of a man who reduced his pulse
from 126 to 60 in the course of a few hours
by giving full vent to his emotions. If peo
ple are at all unhappy about anything, let
them go into their rooms and comfort them
selves with a loud boo boo, and they will feel
a hundred per cent, better afterwards.
In accordance with the above, the crying
of children should not be too greatly dis
couraged. Ifitis systematically repressed, the
result may be St. Vitus’ dance, epileptic fits,
or some other disease of the system. What
is natural is nearly always useful, and noth
ing is there natural than the crying of chib
dren when anything occurs to give either
physical or mental pain.
. <,, “ Let the Mud b?v First.”
Here is a capital lesson that may well be
impressed upon the memory' of both young
and old : Mr. Spurgeon, in walking a little
way out of to preach, chanced to get
his pantaloons quite muddy. A good deacon
met him at the door and desired to get a brush
and take off some of the mud. “Oh, no,”
said Mr. S.. “don't you see it is wet, and if
you try' to brush it now, you will rub the stain
into the cloth? it dry, when it will come
off easy enough and leave nc murk.” So.
when men speak evil of us falsely—throw
mud at us—don’t be in a hurry about brush
ing it off. Too great eagerness to rub it olf,
is apt to rub it in. Let it dry :by and by, if
need be. a little effort wil* remove it. Don't
foster scandal about yourself or others, or
trouble in a society, or in a church, by haste
to do something. IjCt it alone ; let it dry ‘
it will be more easily eradicated than you
think in the first heat of excitement.- Time
has a wonderful power in such matters. Very
mauy things in this world will be easily’ got
overby judiciously “letting them
American Agriculturist for April.
A Quakeress, jealous of her husband,-
watched his movements, and actually one
morning discovered the truant kissing and
hugging the servant girl. Broadbrim watt
not long in discovering the face of his wife;
as she peeped through the half open door,
and rising With all the coolness of a general;
thus addressed her : “ Betsy, thee hact bet
ter quit peeping, or else thee will Gafuse at dis
turbance in the family ”
NUMBER 4.