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JACKSON CO. PUB. COM’Y, )
Proprietors. I
VOLUME y.
Kfc Smtol ilifc,
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY.
ROBERT S. HOWARD, Editor and Publisher,
J E FFE It SOX, JACKSON CO ., OA.
OFFICE, N. E. COR. PUBLIC SQUARE, UP-STAIRS.
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tra copy of the paper will be given.
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fiOT'AH Advertisements sent without specifica
tion *>f the number of insertions marked thereon,
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fiayßusiness or Professional Cards, of six lines
or less, Seven Dollars per annum; and where
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£ggttf ilibertiscuiciifs.
NOTICE TO CONTRACTORS!
WILL be let to the lowest bidder, before the
Court House door in Jefferson, on Monday,
the 25th day of August next, the contract for
building the Cunningham bridge across Pond
Fork. One stone arch and abutment to be built
on south bank of said river, and one swinging
span of bridge fifty-live feet long. The material
and workmanship will be inspected before being
placed in bridge. Bond and security required, for
faithful compliance of contract, immediately after
letting in amount equal to the amount of bid.
Full and complete spccilications can be seen at
this office. 11. \V. BELL, Ord’y.
July 24th, 1879.
Jackson Sheriff’s Sales.
WILL be sold, on the first Tuesday in Septem
ber next, before the Court House door in the
town of Jefferson, Jackson county, (Ja., within
the legal hours of sale, the following property,
to-wit:
One tract or parcel ofland. situated and lying
in the *242d District, G. M., of said county, adjoin
ing lands of Williams, Dr. Arnold ami others, it
being the place whereon George Presnell now re
sides, containing one hundred and forty-four acres,
more or less. There is about fifty or sixty acres
of said land in cultivation, the remainder in old
field and forest. On said place is two log cabins.
Levied on by virtue of and to satisfy a fi. fa. issu
ed from the Superior Court of the county of Clarke
in favor of Ferdinand Phinizy vs. 11. C. Durham,
M. S. Durham, of Oconee county, Richard R.
Saulter, of Clarke county, and Samuel S. Smith,
of .Jackson county. Notice given to George Pres
nell, tenant in possession, and Samuel S. Smith,
•defendant, as the law directs.
aug 4 T. A. McELIIANNON, Sh’fT.
A, lit‘kou Couiily.
Whereas, upon report of Road Commissioners
appointed to review, mark out and report upon
the public utility of making certain changes in the
Athens and Clarkesville road, that said changes
will be of much public utility, as follows : Com
mencing below Moon's shop, on Mrs. E. Moon's
land, thence the old road to J. C. -Jarrett's resi
dence, thence right of way of Railroad to near
corner of Jarrett’s fence, thence north, on Howell
Jarrett’s land, on ridge to Colt's mill road, on C.
11. Chandler's land ; thence up the same to Rail
road; thence the right of way of said Railroad to
the old road, in front of N. L. Collins’ house ;
thence said old road to Mrs. Matthews; thence
right of way to old road again ; thence ohl road to
foot of soap-stone hill ; thence the right of way to
the north side of the .1. W. Benton old house ;
thence the old road to W. Jarrett’s; thence the
right of way to Sandy Creek church ; thence across
said Railroad to old road; thence the same to E.
B. Tuck’s; thence Tuck’s line, on E. B. Tuck’s
land, to Railroad; thence W. W. Davis’ line, on
W. W. Davis’ land, to old road, in trout of Mrs.
Highland’s house. Unless good cause is shown to
the contrary, on the 3d day of September next, an
order will be passed granting said changes and
locating as a part of the Athens and Clarkesville
road. 11. W. BELL; Ord’y.
| j HOItUIA, Jackson (,'oiinly.
Whereas, O. H. P. Pettyjohn has applied for
Letters of Administration on the estate of Tem
perance Pettyjohn, late of said county, dec’d—
This is to cite all concerned, kindred and cred
itors, to show cause, if any they can, on the first
Monday in September, 1875). at'the regular term
of the Court of Ordinary of said county, why said
letters should not be granted the applicant.
Riven under my official signature, July 21st,
1870. H. W. BELL, Ord’y.
Q.EOIMriIA, Jack son 4'oiinty.
Whereas, C. M. Wood applies to me for Letters
of Administration on the estate of Amanda Log-
E°ii, late of said county, deceased—
I his is to cite all concerned, kindred and cred
itors. to show' cause, if any they can. on the first
Monday in September, 1875), at the regular term
of the Court of Ordinary of said county, why said
letters should not he granted the applicant.
Riven under my official signature, July 23d,
1879. 11. W. BELL, Ord’y.
MANHOOD: HOW LOST, HOW RESTORED!
Just published, a new' edi-
of ■>*. #.ilvc.weir.
Olcbratcil Essay Oil the
radical cure (without medicine) of Spekmatok
hhoea or Seminal Weakness, Involuntary Semi
oal Losses. Im potency, Mental and Physical In
capacity, Impediments to Marriage, etc.; also.
•Consumption, Epilepsy and Fits, induced by
*el!-indulgence or sexual extravagance, Ac.
rice, in a scaled envelope, only six cents.
Ihe celebrated author, in this admirable Essay,
•clearly demonstrates, from a thirty years' success
til practice, that the alarming consequences of
"ell-abuse may be radically cured without the
dangerous use of internal medicine or theapplica
oon ot the knife; pointing out a mode of cure at
,f)nc . e simple, certain, and effectual, by means of
w hieh every sufferer, no matter what his condition
may be. may cure himself cheaply, privately and
■radically. r
1 his Lecture should be in the hands of
•every youth and every man in the land.
Bvnt under seal, in a plain envelope, to any ad
dre*'. jtont-paid. on receipt of six cents or two
.postage stamps.
Address the Publishers,
THE CULVERWELL MEDICAL CO.,
41 Ann St., New York ; P. O. Box, 4556.
August 3d, 1878—ly
PATENTS.
~ Lehmann, Solicitor of American and
° r eign Patents, Washington, D. C. All busi
i>tss conne cted with Patents, whether before the
(Hent Office or the Courts, promptly attended to.
I so charge made unless a patent is secured. Send
•° r circular. oct 19—tf
The People their own Rulers; Advancement in Education, Science, Agriculture and Southern Manufactures.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
[From the Southern Banner.
In Memoriam
OF DR. CRAWFORD W. LONO.
I.
Father, we miss thee in the summer hours.
The starlit nights,
\\ hen hov'ring o'er the pale, forsaken flowers,
The glow-worm lights;
And slowly fall the twilight dews to kiss
The weary earth ;
While every scene seems only fit for bliss
And love and mirth ;
They mock our lonely grief, and laugh to scorn
Our bittor loss,
Whose stricken hearts must bleed and bear forlorn
Life’s heaviest cross.
11.
Through all the spring, death unseen waited near
With silent tread.
And deeper grew the shadow dark, and drear,
Around thy head,
Nor did’st thou dream how close its footsteps drew.
To bid thee come,
5V hile we, midst song and smile, as little knew
Thou wast near home ;
hen wafted down on wings of dusky night,
No voice, or breath,
Two Angels came—the one of holy light,
And one of death.
111.
As glow the stars of morn, then sink and fall,
And hide their ray.
As distant echoes slowly trill, and call.
Then die away,
So calm they floated thro' the sombre air,
The midnight gloom,
One bore a flower from Eden, pure and fair,
On earth to bloom,
The other nearer drew, and laid his touch,
So icy cold.
On one we loved, for Christ had need of such
In Hi.s dear fold.
IV.
Father ! thy tender voice will never cheer
Our home again,
No more its tones will chase away our fear
Nor soothe our pain,
Thy tired patient hands that toi'ed on
Are folded low.
And brain that thought, and strove, till strength
was gone.
Is resting now.
The heart that throbbed so oft for others ills,
Throbs now no more.
Thy feet have reached the radiant, summer hills
Beyond the shore.
V.
Around thy grave shall modest daises grow,
And violets bloom;
On evening's breeze the fair, sweet lilies blow
Their faint perfume;
Will pluck these fragrant gems and bind them up
"With threads of song.
W hile fast about the lilies golden cup
A V ill memory throng.
And find within her stainless petals hue,
Dear thoughts of thee ;
Thy life as saint-like, and thy soul as true,
As pure as she.
VI.
There is a city where a last retreat
Awaits us all:
S® calm, so still, we hear no sound of feet
Or voices fall;
No fevered dreams are there, nor aught to wake
From slumbers deep.
Nor winter's cold, nor summer's heat can break
Their holy sleep.
They softly lie; life's fitful dream all past,
Its toil and grief.
For here each weary spirit finds at last
A sweet relief. _
VII.
Bright shining through the trees the sunbeams
play.
And gild the ground,
They glimmer on the tombs of those who lay
At rest around ;
O'er thee, dear one, no stately column rears
Its lofty head ;
Thy life, thy noble life, is all that cheers
Thy humble bed ;
Though known to few. thy unrewarded fame,
Was truly won,
Some day. thy nation's heart will proudly claim
Her gifted son.
E. M. L.
CHEERFUL HARRY.
A STORY OF EARLY CALIFORNIA.
Whenever Eel River Dan went on a ‘tear’
consternation reigned in Pilot City. As soon
as his strident whoop began to resound
through the redwoods surrounding the village
the citizens hushed their inurmurings at
lesser evils and silently skulked to their
cabins, there to listen, with bated breath, for
the first sounds of warfare to follow Dan's
irrival inMietown. Oftentimes the guileless
-Hanger, unacquainted with the truculent
ruffian’s ‘record.’ was the victim : 1 ut as a
general rule it was some obstinate lumber
man who sacrificed himself for more timid
men. It was a singular fact that no matter
how peaceably inclined Pilot City might be.
at the moment Eel River Dan came down
from his mountain home, ‘on a time,’ some
bodv had to suffer. He was ‘bad’ in the most
literal sense of the word, and there were but
few who dared approach him after he had
•declared’ himself and ‘turned himself loose.’
Rut on this particular occasion—this bleak,
windy day in February, when the principal
inhabitants of Pilot City had gathered around
the glowing stove that warmed the somewhat
contracted limits cf the Raftsman’s Home —
the gayly chattering congregation had re
ceived no intimation of the approach of the
mountain desperado. Not a single whoop
had he uttered as he strode through the
sighing pines, not a yell announcing his com
ing had been heard by the peaceful residents
of Pilot City, and when the gigantic frame of
the ‘terror’ darkened the door of the Home a
thunderbolt would not have produced as
much genuine surprise, not to call it as
tonished apprehension, iri the breasts of those
present as did the appearance of Eel River
Dan. For an instant the assemblage sat
petrified. Then there was a fluttering move
ment, and Big Mike, the boom hand, made a
break for the rear .door. The others only
waited to satisfy themselves that Dan was
JEFFERSON, JACKSON COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY. AUGUST 22.1879.
‘on it.’ This important doubt having been
dissipated, and the conclusion arrived at
that the mountaineer was in an unusually
disagreeable frame of mind, the remainder of
the company withdrew—rather precipitately
it must he confessed, but with sufficient order
and regularity to escape injury in the crush
at the side door.
As soon as the last boot heel had passed
over the threshold Dan smiled—it was not a
very seraphic smile, to be sure, but notwith
standing its sardonic character there could
be no mistaking it for a frown or a scowl of
displeasure. With the grimace still irradiat
ing his bloated features the desperado passed
behind the bar, and with a freedom peculiar
to his loose habits, grasped the demijohn
containing an unusually ardent article of
lumberman's solace. Throwing the jug deftly
into the hollow of his right arm, he poured
the yellow distillment into a 2lass which he
held in his left hand, allowing the liquid to
mark four fingers before he threw the muzzle
up and returned the demijohn to its shelf
beneath the liar. He contemplated the con
tents of the glass for a moment, held it up to
the light, smacked his lips in anticipation of
the joy it was about to confer upon him, and
then placed the edge of the tumbler gingerly
to his mouth as if he would prolong the de
light of feeling it trickle down his copper
plated throat into his sheet-iron stomach.
Inch by inch his ruby nose went upward,
drop by drop the whisky flowed downward.
The last globule had just passed between his
teeth, when his fiery red eyes, glancing through
the bottom of the glass, fell upon an object,
the sight of which seemed to paralyze him.
lie could not believe his senses, lie imagined
that some defect in the glass through which
he was taking his observations must have
produced the vision that greeted his gaze. It
could not possibly be the form of a man stand
ing there beside the stove ! What an idea!
What mortal individual would have the
hardihood to remain when he, Eel River Dan,
the terror of the entire lumber region from
Mendocino to Trinity, saw fit to enter a place
of resort! Ah ! no, it certainly could not be
a real, living, flesh and blood, human being;
it was probably a straw dummy set up by
those hulks that had just left, and the insull
just offered would afford an excuse for a
general cleaning out of the whole town. So
he placed the glass on the bar, and, leaning
upon his elbows, leveled his gaze still more
intently upon that ‘dummy.’ Great Ciesar's
ghost! it moved. Was it the wind swaying
a bundle of clothes stuffed with straw? Or
was it—By the great boom that swings over
the river Jordan ! it rubs its hands. It is a
man ! Never before, during a career checkered
by almost daily surprises, had Eel River Dan
ever experienced such a sudden shock of
astonishment. For ten seconds lyy the bar
room clock he was powerless, speechless, well
nigh lifeless. Then he raised his hands to
his face, and leaned his cheeks upon them
while he studied the apparition beside the
stove.
It was a little man, a hollow-chested, cavern
cheeked, mild-eye, meek looking man. Pity
had never been a distinguishing trait in the
composition of Dan’s nature, but as he gazed
upon this ragged, forlorn looking being a
feeling akin to sympathy began to usurp the
place of surprise in his breast, and it was in
a tone almost tinged with kindness that he
addressed the sickly' vagrant.
‘Bin yar long?’
‘Eh?’
The reply sounded like the gurgling o
'dood through the sink pipes of a
room.
‘Aint bin loafin’ 'round thet var stovi
moron a minute or two. hev ye?’
Dan’s tone was so insinuating, and his in
tention to avoid hurting tlie poor fellow's
feelings so evident, that a man with perceptive
faculties developed to any degree whatever
would have understood the kindly motive.
But the rash man at the stove must have been
abnormally obtuse, for he gurgled forth the
exasperating reply:
* Ever sence those other roosters lit out.’
‘ What!’ Dan’s eyes were dilated with tile
intensity of his emotion. Wrath was taking
the place of pity.
The little man made no reply, but rubbed
his hands and held them, palms outward, in
front of the warm stove.
‘ Mebbe you wasn’t payin’ pertickler ’ten
tion to w’at ma le ’em git up an’ dust.’ Tt
was a forced calmness that permeated Dan’s
manner as he made this last remark.
‘ Didn’t know but w’at ther was a dog fight
or somethin’ down the street.’
* Dog fight or somethin',’ sneered Dan.
reaching a glass ; ‘mebbe yer not acquainted
’ith me.’
‘ Who're you?* The man at the stove did
not make this inquiry as if he had any partic
ular desire to ascertain the identity of his
interlocutor, but gurgled it in a mechanical
way, like a phonograph or an automatic
talking machine.
‘ I'm Eel River Dan, stranger; an’ I’m
bad.’
If Dan imagined that this announcement
would discompose the vagrant he was mis
taken. It had no more effect than so much
wind, ami the stranger did not even appear
to notice the remark.
1 D’ye hear, yon cadaverous galoot? I’m
Eel River Dan, an’ I'm on it bigger'n a
wol f.’
‘ Thet’s all right—l ain't objectin’.’
‘ You ain't, eh? Well. I don’t s’pose ve
be, an’ w’at’s more I ain’t intendin’ ye shell.
Now look var, stranger, ye say ye think it
was a dog fight or somethin’ thet elared this
yar barroom a bit ago?’
* Somethin’ o’ thet kind—l wasn’t par
tickerly anxious to hustle’round an' find out,
anyhow.’
J ,r
‘ I h’iieve yer lyin’, stranger; but afore I
pereeed any fu’ther In your case, I'll give ye
the true hizness: them huskies slid out o’
this yar place a 'cause they saw me coinin’
in thet yar door thar —see the door?’
‘lt s thar I reckon,’ answered the little
man, who had turned his back to the stove,
but who did not take the trouble to resume
his former position for the purpose of verify
ing the bad man's assertion that a door
absolutely existed in that particular side of
the apartment.
‘ Well, my consumptive friend, ’taint too
late fur you to use thet same hole in the wall
—you’ll be in time to hear how thet dogfight
you was speak in’ about come out, mebbe, ef
yer uncommonly lively.’
‘ Don’t keer how it comeost.’ answered the
hollow-cheeked individual in his most woe
begone tone of voice.
‘ Don’t, eh? Yer sure ye don’t want to
know w’ich dog licked?’
‘ Ain't bettin’ a continental red on nary
dog fight jest now, an’ ain’t a goin' to nuther.’
There was a ghost of emphasis in the latter
portion of his speech, but it was almost
wholly choken by the gloom}' sadness of the
tone in which it was uttered.
' It’s party rough, blamed ef it ain’t,’
soliloquized Dan, edging around toward the
end of the bar. ‘l’d ez soon tackle a raft o’
mcasley babies, but it’s got down to a ground
hog case, an’ ef I don't do somethin’ purty
soon the boys "11 be kickin’ me from one end
o' the county to the other. It’s got to be di 1.
Filer’s no help for it. I say, sickly, mebbe
ye’d like to say a word or two afore it hap
pen =*.’
‘ W’at happens?’
‘ Why, w'at's goin’ to happen w*en I turn
loose.’
‘Ain't got nothin* to say.’
‘Any place, pertickler, ye’d like ter be
hauled to arter the matinee?’
* W’at matinee?’
‘Wat matinee! The matinee thet's goin’
to open up in about one minute by tliet y'ar
clock.’
* Don’t know nothin’ ’bout it.’
‘ You'll know more'n you want to afore I
git through ’ith yon. Ain't got no friends
thet’d planUye decently in case the coroner
bed to sit on ye?’
‘ Nary friend.’
‘ No money ?’
‘Nary dime.'
‘Got a name, 1 s’pose—write it down an'
I'll sec thet it’s speiied right in the papers.'
‘Cheerful Marry,'
‘ Age?’
‘ Forty-four.’
‘ Born anywhar?’
‘ Massouri.’
4 Bizness?’
‘ 1 lordin’ sheep.’
‘ Cheerful Harry—forty-four—born in Alas
sou'i—-dieep herder. Is thet kerrect?’
‘ Kerrect.’
* Mebbe you’d like ter hev a verse or two
o’ p-try lacked on?’
* W’at fur?’
‘ Fur a send ofT in case yer don’t survive.
Some folks is rut her pert ickler ’bout sicli
tilings ; didn't know but you was one o' thet
‘Nary var.se.’
‘ Don't feel like lightin’ out, I s*pose ? ’
‘ I'm comf'tabel.’
‘ Are, are ye?’
‘Never felt more coinftahle in mv life.’
By this time Dan had approached very
close to the little man. an l lie appeare 1 to
be attempting to stir up latent wrath sufficient
to ’open the matinee.’ lie hesitated for the
last time as lie remarked :
* Say. Cheerful, you-d feel a mighty sight
cheerfully ef you was out huntin’ up the
perticklers o’ thet dog fight.’
The reply came laden with the very
quintessence of contempt:
‘ You be !’
There was a sullen outreaching of Eel
River Dan's long arm—a ringing crash a*
the stove pipe came down—a gleam of steel
—a blending of two forms—a hoarse howl of
rage and pain—another crash as the blended
forms reeled over upon the card table, and
through that frail piece of furniture to the
floor—more gleaming steel—more hoarse
howls of despair and pain—and Cheerful
Harry quietly' returned to hispoistion beside
the stove, unconcernedly wiping a frightful
lookir.g knife on his coat sleeve.
Dr. Squills was of the opinion that if Dan
could survive the wound under the fourth rid
he might, in the course of four or five months,
be able to leave his room. Dan did survive
the wound under his fourth rid, but nobody
saw him leave his room. Dr. Squills was
again appealed to, and gave it as his opinion
that Eel River Dan, no longer the redoubtable
Rel River Dan of yore, had left in the night.
Be that as it may, lie never troubled Pilot
City again, although he must have been
aware of the fact that Cheerful Marry had re
turned to his pastoral pursuits in the moun
tains of Trinity.— Argonaut.
Bone as a Fertilizer—Preparation.
For about 80 years hones have been treated
with acids, to reduce them to a soluble con
dition. or to break them down into a fine
powder. When thus treated the residue is
known as superphosphate of lime. But we
now speak of them in their natural condition,
and refer to methods of preparing them for
u*e. Every farmer in the county can save a
considerable quantity of bones of home pro
duction. and by a little trouble and attention
can collect a large quantity from the dwellers
of villages in his vie nity. We once gave
notice to the boys in a village of 5.000 in
habitants, that we would pay 12. L cents a
bushel for all the bones brought to a certain
vacant lot; as the result more than GO bush
els were found and brought in wheel-barrows
and baskets. Two boys who worked togeth
er, struck a “find" in an out of the wav
place, and from that and oilier places uccu
mulated 24 bushels, and were very rich with
their $3 received for them. In this way one
can often secure at least as much bone as
will return to his land a large portion, if not
the whole, of the annual waste of phosphates.
Lo overcome the difficulty of making use of
them in a raw and unbroken state, the bones
may be burned in a slow fire, preferably in
a heap of brushwood, chips, or similar refuse.
By slow burning all risk of waste from over
heating is avoided. When burnel the bones
are easily crushed to a fine powder, and then
contain all the substances found in raw bones,
excepting the nitrogen. This loss, however,
cannot he helped, and it is better to submit
to it than to neglect to use the bones.
By grinding raw hones in powerful mills
they may he reduced to a line powder, and
m this condition are known as ground hone,
hone dust, bone me:;!, and bone flour, accord
ing to the coarseness or fineness ‘to which
they are reduced. Thus prepare 1 they are
articles of general merchandise, and are kept
for sale wherever bones are to be procured,
or the prepared bone i3 in deman 1. The
raw, unbroken bone is worth in the market
about 1 cent a pound, when ground it is sold
at prices varying from 11 to 2 cents a pound
by the ton. When the bone is “ raw,” that
is, in its natural and fresh condition, it con
tains all its nitrogen ; but when steamed to
extract glue, the nitrogen in great part is
removed, and the bone is less valuable. On
account of the difficulty of preparing bone
without the requisite machinery, and the
cheapness of the prepared article in the mar
ket, it is always preferable to procure the
ground bone made by reliable manufacturers ;
otherwise the bones can lie collected and
prepared by burning, as above mentions i.
Bones are valuable to put into the soil under
grape vines and fru ! t trees. Clusters of
roots will grow around and feed upon them
for many years, or until they are entirely
used up. They can be broken with heavy
hammers, or even be put in whole—a peck
to a half bushel scattered about in the soil
where they will be reached by the roots.—
American Agriculturist.
Waiting for the Fun.
A citizen, on his way home late the other
night, saw a hoy sitting in front of a house
on Union street.
“ What are you doing here, bub ?” he in
quired, in surprise.
“8h ! Keep still !*’ hissed the boy in a
whisper. “I live here.”
” W ell, why' don't you go into the house r”
said the citizen.
“ Waitin’ for the fun,” replied the boy.
“ Father’s jus’ gone in. lie told me to wait
till he told he’d been to the lodge, an’ then I
could come in an’ say I couldn’t find him, an'
not mention his being in the billiard hall ;
but I know mother, an’ if you'll wait a min
ute, you'll hejir something kinder bang against
the side of the room like ”
And just at that instant a muffled sound
issued from the room, where a light was visi
ble.
“That’s him—that’s father !’’ exclaimed
the boy in great glee. Biroehy yo dll hear a
lamp smash, an’ then I’m goin’ to rush in an'
look out for fire.*’
The citizen passed on and left the boy sit
ting on the gate, with the liveliest interest
depicted on his countenance.— Rock Island
Courier.
Broil steak without salting. Salt draws
the juices in cooking; it is desirable to keep
these in if possible. Cook over a hot fi e
turning frequently; searing on both sides.
Place on a platter; salt and pepper to your
taste.
To remove kerosene oil stains in a floor or
carpet, cover the spots of oil with Indian
meal, and when the oil strikes through, re"
move and put on fresh, and repeat until the
oil is entirely absorbed.
S TEEMS, $1.50 PER ANNUM.
I SI.OO For Six Months.
Fables and Anecdotes.
BY TUTTLE JOnNXT.
One time there was a vultur, and rulturi
don’t lmv enny tethers on their necks, ami
there was a rattle snake, and the rattlesnake
it sed to the vultur: "you better pul up yure
toiler, ole man.”
But the vultur it sed : “You bettor pul
down the skirts of yure skin, cos yore boues
is a stickn out.”
You jest ot to hear Billy, that’s my brother,
play the hones like he was a nigger, but
fuddle strings is made out of cats.
One morning my fattier lie sed : -Did you
hear that and red tie cat las nite. I think its too
bad that cats is let make such noises wu
folks wants to sleep.”
But Uncle Ned lie spoke up and
“I gess if you was as fnl of lid die string as
cats is you wud ihake a noise in the woruld.
too, meblie.”
Then ray mother she sed : • Wy. E lard !**
hut my father lie lay down his knife and fork,
and looked awile at Uncle Ned. and then ho
put on In* spetttides and looked a other time,
and Bihlad, that's the new dog, he rose up
lus lied and took a look hisself, but Mese.
wich is the cat, he snook under the sofa liko
sayn. “Settle it )ure own sellefs.”
Then my father he sed: "Edard, it ain’t
been the custom in this family for to he a en<l
man in a nigger minstrel performance, but if
you are convinced that the family intrest
requires you to be one. you better git Johnny
for to rite yure jokes, cos them wich Adaiu
wrote is gettin mity shaky.”
I lien Bildad, that’s the dog. lay down
agin, and Mo.se, wich is the cat, lay down
on top or'Bildad. and Uncle Ned.he wisselcd
to hisself but didn’t snv no more.
A ephalent had wentto a river for to drink,
and he was so dry he put liis trunk way down
deep as hectide, and was wagglin it round in the
wotter dflited. And there was too offii big
fishes. And one fish.it said tothe othern. one
did : “Now there is a werm wich is tit for to
set before a King.”
And the other fish sed: “Yes. and you
better let it alone; or you will be set l>e*for*
one your own sellef, cos I bet its got a hook
in it like the anker uv a 3 decker.”
Jack Bril}' says one time a nigger fel of a
ship, and the salers tlirode him a rope, which
lie cot by the end, and they was a boiling
hi in a board when a shark snapt him rite in
2. And just then a Southern planter, wich
was a pasinger, he come on deck, and Inked
over, and seen tiie shark do it, and he was
excited, and he hollered to the salers : “H
lias took yure hook, boys, he has took yure
hook ! Fetch a other one quick, and git a
fresh nigger!”
Diet.
An ordinary meal is generally composed
of five ingredients—animal or nitrogenous
food, starchy or sweet food, watery vegetables,
beverages and condoments. This food, when
digested, is taken into the system hy the
blood vessels. For persons, and espe
cially for workingmen, in this climate,
meats are the most easily digested, and at
the same time are the most nourishing food.
Tripe is the easiest and pork the hardest to
digest. Among vegetables, rice and boiled
cabbage are the extremes. Anything that is
fried in fat is extremely indigestible. Milk
Contains the live ingredients referred to
above, so is really “ all sufficient.” Mothers
make a great mistake in trying tb induce in
fants under 2 years of age to eat starchy
food, for there is no alkaline fluid in the
stomach of an infant by means of which the
starch can le changed to sugar, and so infused
into the system. It has been estimated that a
maa working in the open air daily need*
fifteen ounces of meat, eighteen of bread,
three and a half of butter or fat, and fifty-one
of water. An excess of starchy food is to be
carefully avoided. Men who handle lead
ought to abstain from alcohol, for if to*
much is taken the kidneys, which throw otf
the poison of the led, aro likely to become
diseased.
Traveling Stones.
Man}’ of our readers have doubtless beard
of the famous traveling stones of Australia.
Similar curiosities have recently been found
in Nevada, which are described as almost
perfectly round, the majority of them as largo
as a walnut, and of an irony nature. When
distributed about upon the floor, table or
other level surface, within two or three feet
of each other, they iramediatly began traveling
toward a comomn center and lie there
huddled up in a bunch like a lot of eggs in a
nest. A single stone removed to a distance
of three and a half feet, upon being released,
at once started off with a wonderful and
some a hat comical celerity, to join its fellow* ;
taken away four or five feet, it remained
motionless. They’ are found in a region that
is comparatively level, and is nothing but bare
rock. Scattered over this barren region ar®
little basins, from a few feet to a rod or two
in diameter, and it is in the bottom of those
that the rolling stones are found. They are
from the size of a pea to five or six inches in
diameter. The cause of those stones rolling
together is doubtless to be found in the
material of which thev are composed, which
appf ars to be lodestone or magnetic iron ore.
How Pat Wished to Escape the Devil.
Pat being very sick and thinking he w&a
about to shuffle off his mortal coil, sent for
his neighbor, when the following conversa
tion took p ace :
Pat.—“ I am very sick and think I will
die, and shure I have been a very bad man,
and the devil will be aftber hunting me.—
What shall I do at all, at all ?”
Neighbor.—“Sind for a Preist, and die in
the church.”
Fat.—“An’ shure, I can’t; I ana a Mason,
and l have been excommunicated, but do
have me buried in the Jews’ burying ground,
as a great favor, and then I'll escape thi
devil.’’
Neighbor.—“ How so, pat ?”
Pat,.—“Shure, and it's thedsvil that would
niver be aftber hunting me there, for
the last fdaee in the worruld lie would evQf
NUMBER 11.