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If, 3SET S. HOWARD, ) Editor and Publisher. ( ■plume VI. I' :$!• ffis&is, PUIILISIIED EVERY FRIDAY. :crt S. HOWARD, Editor and Publisher, OPERSON, JACKSON CO., GA. ■ o ■ fl% N. E. COR. PUBLIC SQUARE, UP-STAIRS. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. iv 12 months-. $1.50 -nr i'v tv ( iuo of ien subscribers, an ex r n - of the paper will be given. RATES Of AUVtRfiSmGT' Dollar per square (often lines or less) r • insertion, and Seventy-five Cents <,i!)se<|iient insertion. ,r t a.; wire is a space of one inch, measured ~i down the column. . , : Advertisements sent without specifica it >unoer of insertions marked thereon, nr published till forbid, and charged prdingl.v. jpihhiness or Professional Cards, of six lines ■.is. SnvKX Dollars per annum ; and where not exceed ten lines, Ten Dollars. £n\i iWeectiscmeuts. County. •-.<*.•,v., J. AV. 11. Hamilton and T. K. Smith. ,r„ ■ rat' : r.- on the estate of Bailey Chandler, i';l county, deceased, applies tor leave to ■ ; ;iads belonging to said estate— -k to cite all concerned, kindred and cred sii i .v cause, if any they can, at the rejru the Court of Ordinary of said county, •v irst Monday in October, 1880, why sa'id b Id not be granted the applicants. ■ 1 r my official signature, August 22d, ), aug27 H. AV. BELL, Ord’y. 'KOSSWIFu.cE<som County, -. as John F. Evans, Executor of the last and testament of Daniel Evans dec’d rep els to the court, by his petition duly tiled, r!i has fully administered the estate of said -id, and is intitlcd to a discharge— ,:s is to cite all concerned, kindred and iwi's. u show cause, if any, on the tirst •:y iu November. 1880 at the regular term . se t of Ordinary of said county why the • if Dismission should not be granted the tail. milder my official signature, this August ISM). 11. W. BELL, Ord’v. d<CS.j, Jsu'kNon County. 3'kreas, C. M. AVood, Administrator upon to of Amanda M. Logging • late of said .y, no •asod, applies for leave to sell the real o . ! <uv.lt. Iv. Stock, belonging to said • to cite all concerned, kindred and cred s. :■> show - ause, if any, on the first Monday v, '■■'.her next at the regular term of the •ti '• tahnary of said county, why leave to i real estate and Georgia K. R. Stock 'knot bo granted the applicant. ' '! under mv official signature, this August ‘ 11. AV. BELL. Ord’y. ' * v\i.uabl^truths. m!."- >•!•-. froiu-- poor health, or iaagnisit* !.' J ‘1 iiiekneui cLeer, for I?.**> Uhtrrf a ’WHI CanYoy,. •• •" .< Ist'—;i,dlmvo orertrlrcd yoat* rpv- *t.l I u-t-Ues ;or a nloihciy worn *’-i '■ r.d vork.Cr.i you are simply alUng | * i r-ii v.afe aadMdispirtteJ, without ciour. iftsoviagwtiy, y, .ti Hep Rittra You. . ’f vo iro a nan of bus-Siucsß, weakened by t)id - ?<>ur every JayGdutics; or a man of let- B f 4 > toiling over , yoarfifnid night work, ■* ‘ "C tiilteix M’llly-StrciiGthcis You. ’ a ",rc young, andtjHuiTcring from any India* ‘."rui-e [^rowingtoojsfast,as is often tiro case. ’ • op Itirtora nlllhlteJievc You. ' : in thi ■ jop, is il.o farm, at the • b .and urn !>.: your system needs or s:iia4"iiaunk, niikuul ini axis? C-UJi*, || < 1 •'*;> iiiticrs I 'J\Vli:it You SmL \ ' u a:id yourjcnulse is feeble, yonr ' vty. and yodrgtacultics waning, '?Jh-:emwtl! ,-iivt you Sow IJfc and Vigor. ■i tin? ''veetest, safest and be'it.g ■ ’ 1 for utomeh. Liver and Kidneys isS '■ t 0 ■'lotirers. It it* perfect. Vsk Druggists.* and irrcsistafcio cure for drank-B • ' "• opium, ti ' .cco and narcotics. \< .U. *1 pB Uar*Mf ff . Cos. Rochester, N.YJ iVISITE~LEAS AND OILS, Amishes & Colors, n -.‘"5 wr ,fy. c* S3 • 2-:COE8 and CHEMICALS, i-iss and Clover Seed. ‘.V of above, or anything in the Drug line, 2. C. LONG & CO., '•iOiosale & Ketail Druggists, athents, 0-/N. IS7O. TEST HINA. t Drill IMi POVVMUS.) r*c - - ■ua - -^taann* ta.'.C Infantum. Allays Irritation and ‘' An. *•*)'• Remove* and prevents i r ~ o/" Children way be saved cr /< .rr 6?* t ittiny these t'taeders > ‘ l ' t it DR. PENDERGRASS. Drug %>ro Tho Rain That is Born of the Cloud and Rocked in the Cradle of the Wind. Sermon by Dr. Talmage. Subject—The Rain. Text — Job xxxviii., 28 ; “ Hath the Rain a Father t ” This book of Job has been the subject of unbounded theological wrangle. Men have made it the ring in which to display their ecclesiastical pugilism. Some say that this book of Job is a true history ; others that it is an allegory ; others that it is an epic poem : others that it is a drama. Some say that Job lived 1800 years before Christ; others say that ho never lived at all. Some say that the au thor of tins book wa3 Job ; others David ; others Solomon. The discussion has landed some in blank infidelity. Now, I have no (trouble with the books of Job or Revelation, the roost mysterious books in the Bible, be cause of a rule adopted some years ago. I wade down into a Scripture passage as lonn as I can touch bottom, and when I cannot, then I wade out. I used to wade until it was over my head, and then I drowned. I study a passage of Scripture so long as it is a com fort and help to my soul, but when it becomes a perplexity and a spiritual upturning, I quit. In other words, it is over our head. No man should ever expect to wade across the great ocean of Divine truth. Igo down into that ocean as X go down into the Atlantic ocean at East Hampton, Long Island—ju3t far enough to bathe—then I come out. I never had any idea that, with ray weak hand and foot, I could strike my way clear over to Liverpool. I suppose you understand your family ge nealogy. You know something about your parents, your grandparents, your great-grand parents. Perhaps you know where they were born or where they died. Have you ever studied the parentage of the shower? Hath the rain a father?” This question is not asked by a poetaster or scientist, but by the head of the universe. To humble and to save Job, God asks him fourteen questions—about the world’s architecture, about the refraction of the sun’s rays, about the tides, about tho snow crystal, about the lightnings, and then lie arraigns him with the interrogation of the text; “Hath the rain a father?” With the scientific wonders of the rain I have nothing to do. A minister gets through with that kind of sermons within the first throe years, and if he lias piety enough lie gets through with it in the first three months. A sermon has come to me to mean one word of four letters : “ Help !” You all know that the rain is not an orphan. You know it is not cast out of the gates of Heaven a foundling. You would answer the question of my text in the affirmative. Safely housed during the storm, you hear the rain beating against the window pane, and you find it searching all the crevices of the window sill. It first comes down in solitary drops, pattering the dust, and then it deluges the fields and angers the mountain torrents, and makes the traveler implore shelter. You know that the rain is not an accident of the world’s economy. You know it was born of the cloud. You know it was rocked in the cradle of the wind. You know it was sung to sleep by the storm. You know that it is a flying evangel from Ilcavcn to earth. You know it is tho gospel of the weather. You know that God is its father. If this be true, then how wicked is our murmuring about climatic changes. The first eleven Sabbaths after I entered the ministry it stormed. Through the week it was clear weather, but on the Sabbaths the old country meeting-house looked like Noah’s Ark before it landed. A few drenched people sat before a drenched pastor ; but most of the farmers stayed at home and thanked God that what was bad for the church was good for the crops. I committed a good deal of sin in those days in DENOUNCING TIIE WEATHER. Ministers of the gospel sometimes fret about stormy Sabbaths, or hot Sabbaths, or inclement Sabbaths. They forget the fact that the same God who ordained the Sabbath and sent forth his ministers to announce sal vation, also ordained trie weather. “Hath the rain a father ?” Merchants, also, with their stores filled with new goods, and their clerks hanging idly around the counters, commit the same trans gression. There have been seasons when the whole spring and fall trade has been ruined by protracted wet weather. The merchants then examined the “ weather probabilities” with more interest than they read their Bibles. Thev watched for a patch of blue sky. They went complaining to the store, and came com plaining home again. In all that season of wet feet, and dripping garments, and impass able streets, they never once asked theques-' tion, “ Hath the rain a father ?” So agriculturists commit this sin. There is nothing more annoying than to have plant ed corn rot in the ground because ot too much moisture; or hay, all ready for the mow, dashed of a shower ; or wheat, almost ready for the sickle, spoiled with the rust. How hard it is to agricultural disappoint ments. God has infinite resources, but Ido not think Ho has capacity to make weather to please all the farmers. Sometimes it is too hot, or it is too cold ; it is too wet, or it iis too dry ; it is too early, or it is too late. JEFFERSON, JACKSON COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER 10, ISSO. T hey forget that the God who promised seed time and harvest, summer aud winter, cold and heat, also ordained all the climatic changes. There is one question that ought to be written on every barn, on every fence, on every hay-stack,, on every farm-house— “ Hath the rain a father ?’’ If we only knew what a vast enterprise it is to provide appropriate weather for this world, we would not be so critical of the Lord. Isaac Watts, at ten years of age, com plained that he did not like the hymns that were sung in the English chapel. “ Well,” said his father, “Isaac, instead of your com plaining about the hymns, go and make hymns that are better.” And he did go and mal':e hymns that were better. Now, I say to you, if you do not like the Weather, get up a weather company, and have a President, and a Secretary, and a Treasurer, and a Board of Directors, and ten million dollars of stock, and then provide weather that will suit all of us. There is a roan who has a weak head, and he can not stand the glare of the sun. You must have a cloud always hovering over him. I like the sunshine, I can not live without plenty of sunlight, so you must always have enough light for roe. Two ships meet mid-Atlantic; the one is going to Southampton, the other is going to New York. Provide weather that, while it is abaft for one ship, is net a head wind for the other. There is alarm that is dried up for lack of rain, and here is a pleasure party going out for a field excursion. Provide weather that will suit the dry farm and the pleasure excursion. No, sirs, 1 will not take one dollar of stock in your weather companj'. There is only one Being in tho Universe who knows enough to provide tho right kind of weather for this world. “ Hath the rain a .father ?” My text also suggests God's minute super visa!. You see the Divine Sonship in every drop of rain. The jewels of. the shower are not flung away by a spendthrift who knows not how many he throws or where they fall. They are all shining princes of heaven. They all have an eternal lineage. They are all the children of a king. “ Hath the rain a father ?” Well, then, I sryy if God takes notice of ever}’ minute raindrop, lie will take notice of the most insignificant affair of my life. It is the astronomical view of things that bothers me. We look up into the night heavens and wo say: “Worlds! worlds!” and how insig nificant wc foci! Wo stand at the foot of Mount of Washington or Mount Blanc and we feel that we are only insects, and then we say to ourselves : “ Though the world is so large, the sun is 1,400,000 times larger.” “Oh,” we say, “it is no U3e, if God wheels that great machinery through immensity, lie will not take the trouble to look down at me.” Infidel conclusion. Saturn, Mercury and Jupiter are no more rounded and weighed and swung by the hand of God than are the globules on a lilac bush the morning after a showef. God is no more in magnitude than Lie is in miniature. If He has SCALES TO WEIGH THE MOUNTAINS, He has balances delicate enough to weigh the infinitesimal. You can no more see Him through the telescope than you can see Him through the microscope ; no more when you look up than when you look down. Are not the hairs of your head all numbered ? And if Himalava has a God, “ hath not the rain a father ?” I take this doctrine of a particular Providence and thrust it into the midst of your everyday life. If God fathers a raindrop, is there anything so insignificant in }’our af fairs that God will not father that ? When Druyse, the gunsmith, invented the needle gun, which decided the battle of Sadowa, was it a mere accident? When a farmer’s boy showed liluchcr a short cut by which he could bring his army up soon enough to decide Waterloo for England, was it a mere acci dent ? When Lord Byron took a piece of money and tossed it up to decide whether or not he should be affianced to Miss Millbank, was it a mere accident which side of the mo ney was up and which was down ? When the Protestants were besieged at Dozers and a drunken drummer came in at midnight and rang the alarm-bells, not knowing what he was doing, but waking up the hosts in time to fight their enemies that moment arriving, was it an accident ? When in the Irish re bellion a starving mother, flying with her starving child, sank down and fainted on the rocks in the night and her hand fell on a warm bottle of milk, did that just happen so ? God is either in the affairs of men or our religion is worth nothing at all, and you had better take it away from us, and instead of this which teaches the doctrine, give us a secular book, and let us, as the famous Mr. Fox, the member of Parliament, in his last hour, cry out: “ Bead me the eighth book of Virgil.” O, my friends, let us arouse up to an appreciation of the fact that all the af fairs of our life are under a King’s command and under a Father’s watch. Alexander’s war-horse, Bucephalus, would allow anybody to mount him when he was unharnessed ; but as soon as they put on that war-horse, Buce phalus, the saddle, and the trappings of the Conqueror, he would allow no one but Alex ander to touch him. And if a soulless horse FOR THE PEOPLE. could have so much pride in his owner, shall not we immortals exult iu the fact that we are owned by a King P “ Hath the rain a father ?” Again, my subject teaches me that God’s dealings with ns are inexplicable. That was the original force of my text. The rain was a great mystery to the ancients. They could not understand how the water should get into the cloud, and getting there, how it should be suspended, or falling, why it should come down in drops. Modern science comes along and says there are two portions of air of dif ferent temperature, and they are charged with moisture, and the one portion of air de creases in temperature so the water may no !oi\ger be held in vapor, and it falls. And they tell us that some of the clouds that look to be no larger than a man’s hand, and to be i almost quite in the heavens, arc great moun tains of mist, 4,000 feet from base to top, and that they rush miles a minute. But after all these brilliant experiments of Dr. Jas. Hut ton, and Lansurre, and other scientists, there is an infinite mystery about the rain. There is an ocean of the unfathomable in every rain drop, and God says to-day as lie said in the time of Job : “If you can not understand one drop of rain, do not be surprised if ray dealings with you are inexplicable.” Why does that aged man, decrepit, beggared, vici ous, sick of the world, and the world sick of him, live on, while here is a man in mid life, consecrated to God, hard-working, useful in every respect, who dies ? Why does that old gossip, gadding along the street about every body’s business but her own, have such good health, while the Christian mother, with a flock of little ones about her, whom she is preparing for usefulness and for heaven—the mot her who you think could not be spared an hour from that household*—why does she lie down and die with a cancer ? Why does that man, selfish to the core, go on adding fortune to fortune, consuming everything on himself, continue to prosper, while that man who has been giving ten per cent, of all his income to God and the church goes into bankruptcy ? Before we make stark fools of ourselves, let us stop pressing this everlasting “ why.” Let us worship whore we can not understand. Let a man take that one question “ why” and pursue it far enough, and push it, and lie will land in wretchedness and perdition. We want in our theology fewer interrogation marks and more exclam: tion points. Heaven is the place for explanation. Earth is the place for trust. If you can not understand so minute a thing as a rain drop, how can you expect to understand God's dealings ? “ Hath the rain a father ?” Again, my text makes me think that the rain c.f tears is of divine origin. Great clouds of trouble sometimes hover over us. They are black, and they are gorged, and they are thunderous. They arc more portentious than Salvator or Claude ever painted—clouds of poverty, of persecution or bereavement. Tlioy hover over us, and they GET DARKER AND BLACKER, And after a while a tear starts, and we think by a heavy pressure of the eyelid to stop that tear, but wc can not stop it. Others folio>v, and after a while there is a shower of tearful amotion. Yes, there is a rain of tears. “ Hath the rain a father ?” “ Oh!” you say, “ a tear is nothing but & drop of limpid fluid secreted by the lachry mal gland—-,it is only a sigh of weak eyes.” Great mistake. It is one of the Lord’s rich est benedictions to the world. There are people in Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum and at Utica, and at all the asylums of this land, who are demented by the face that they could not cry at the right time. Said a ma niac in one of our public institutions, under a gospel sermon that started tiie tears : “ Do you see tuat tear? That is the first tear that 1 have wept for twelve years. I think it will help my brain.” There arc a great, many in the grave who could not stand, any longer under the glacier of trouble. If that glacier had only melted into weeping, they could have endured it. There have been times in your life when you would have given the world, if yon had possessed it, for one tear. You could shriek, you could bias pheme, but you could not cry. Have you never seen a man holding the hand of a dead wife, who had been all the world to him? The temples livid with excitement, the eye dry and frantic, no moisture on the upper or lower lid. You saw there were bolts of an ger in the clouds, but no rain. To j’our Christian comfort, ho said : “ Don’t talk io me about God ; there is no God, or if there is I hate him ; don’t talk to me about God : Would he have left me and these motherless children?” But a few hours or days after, com ing across some pencil she owned in life, or some letter which she wrote when lie was away from home, with an outcry that appails, there burst the fountain of tears, and as the sunlight of God's consolation strikes that fountain of tears, you find out that it is a tender-hearted, merciful, pitiful and all-coin passionate God who is the father of that rain. “ Oh,” you say, “it is absurd to think that God is going to watch over tears.” No, my friends, there are three or four kinds of them that God counts, bottles and eternizes. First, there arc all parental tears, asd there are more of these than of an}’ other kind be cause the most of the race die in infancy and that keeps parents mourning all around the world. They never get over it. They may live to shout and sing afterwards, but there is always a corridor in the soul that is silent though it once resounded. My parents never mentioned the death of a child, who died fifty years before, without a tremor in the voice and a sigh, oh ! how deep-fetched. It was better she should die. It was a mer cy she should die. She would have been a life-long invalid. But you can not argue away a parent’s grief. How often you hear the moan, “Oh, my child !” Then there are the filial tears. Little children soon get over the ioss of parents. They are easily" divert !ed with anew toy. But where is the man j who has come to thirty or forty or fifty years 'of age who can think of the old people with i out having all the fountains of his soul stir i red up? You ma} r have had to take care of i her a good many years, but you can never ; forget how she used to take care of you. , Have you never heard an old man in the delirium of some sickness call for his mother? The fact is we get so U9od to caling for her i the first ten years of our life we never get over it, and when she goes a way from us it makes deep sorrow. You sometimes, per haps, in days of trouble and darkness, when the world would say ; “ You ought to be able to take care of yourself,” wake up from your dreams saying, “Oh, mother! mother!” i Have these tears no divine origin? Why, ! take all the warm hearts that ever beat in all | lands, and in all ages, and put them together and their united throb would be weak com | pared with the throb of God’s eternal sym pathy. Yes, God also is the father of all j that rain of repentance. Did you ever see a man repent? I see people GOING AROUND TRYING TO REPENT. These cannot repent. How do you know? By this passage: “ Him hath God exalted to be a prince and a savior to give repentance.” Oh ! it is a tremendous hour when one wakes up and says : “I am a bad man. I have not sinned against the ’laws of the land, but I have wasted my life; God asked me for my services, but I haven't given those services. Oh, my sine, God forgive me.” When that tear starts it thrills all Heaven. An angel j cannot keep his eyes olf it, and the Church |of God assembled around, and there is a j commingling of tears ; there i3 a rain of tears, and God is the father of that rain. The Lord, long suffering, merciful and gracious. In a religious assemblage a man arose and said : “ I have been a very wicked man ; I broke my mother’s iieart; I became an infi del, lmt I have seen my evil way, and 1 have surrendered my heart to God ; but it is a grief I can never get over that my parents should never have heard of my salvation ; I 'don't know whether they are living or dead.” While yet he was standing in the audience a voice from the gallery said : “ Oil, my son, my son 1” lie looked up, and recognized her. It was his old mother. She had been praying for him a great many years, and when, at tiic foot of the cross, the prodigal son and the praying mother embraced each other, there was a rain, a tremendous rain, of tears, and God was the father of those tears. Ob ! if God would break us down with the | sense of our sin, and then lift us with the appreciation of llis mercy. Tears over our wasted life. Tears over a grieved spirit. Tears over an injured father. Repent! Re pent ! The King of Cartilage was dethroned. I His people rebelled against him. He was driven into banishment. Ilis wife and ! children were outrageously abused. Years ; went by, and the King of Carthage inado * many friends. He gathered up a great army. |He marched again toward Carthage. Reach i ing the gates of Carthage, the best men of j the place came out bare-footod and bare headed, and with ropes around their necks, crying for mercy. They said : “We abused you and abused your family, but we cry for mercy.” Tho King of Carthage looked down upon the people from his chariot, and said: “I came here to bless, I didn’t come to destroy ; you drove me out, but this day J pronounce pardon for all the people. Open the gate and let the army come in.” The King marched in and took the throne, and the people all shouted: “ Long live the King!” My friends, you have driven the Lord Jesus Christ, the King of the Church, away from your heart; you have been mal treating Him all these years ; but He comes back to-day ; He stands in front of tho gates of your soul. Ifj’ou will only pray for his pardon He will meet you with His gracious spirit and lie will say: “Thy sins and thine iniquities I will remember no more. Open wide the gate. I will take the throne. My peace I give unto you.” And then from the young and from the old there will be a rain of tears, and God will be the father of that rain ! Lively Newspaper Items Somo supposed friends of a newspaper have peculiar ideas as to what kind of items a paper really requires. Not long since a gentleman eamo into the Galveston News sanctum and said : “ Look here? you mis3 a heap of live items. • I’m on the streets all day ; I’ll come up every once in a while and post you.” “ All right; fetch on your items ; but re member, we want news.” Next day he came up, beaming all over. “ I’ve got a live item for you. You know that infernal bow-legged gorilla of a brother in-law of mine who was in business here with roe?” *• 1 believe I remember such a person,” said the editor, wearily. “Well, I've just got news from Nebraska, | where he is living, that he is going to run | for the Legislature. Now, just give him a i blast. Lift him out of his boots. Don’t spare him on my account.” Next day he came up again. “My little item was crowded out. I brought you some news,” and he hands in an item about his j cat as follow 3 : ¥ “ A Remarkable Animal.—The family cat of our worthy and distinguished fellow townsman. Smith, who keeps the boss gro cery store of Ward No. 13 (Beer always on tap), yesterday became the mother of five singularly marked kittens. This is not the first time this unheard of event has taken place. We understand that Mr. Smith is being favorably spoken of as a candidate for alderman.” The editor groans in his spirit as he lights a cigar with the effort. It is not long before he hears that Smith is going around saying that he has made the paper what it is, but it is not independent enough for a place like Galveston. Many readers will say this sketch is over drawn, but thousands of editors all over the country will lift up their right hands to tes tify that they are personally acquainted with the gniM v party. \ TERMS, $1.50 PER ANNUM. ) SI.OO For Six Months. Farmers Do Not Read Inough. During the discussion of the MTnrnl sub jects before ths co®Tet : .3n, we ir;n mias nllj impressed wits ;btl rmwm as a class—do not p u !;d on ctrrnt agricultural topics, as they night easily do, if they would subscribe for one or more ag ricultural journals. Many of the facts brought out, and the suggestions made, were evidently new to a large number of tho dele gates present; and yet scarcely one idea was advanced, or fact stated, that had not been before promulgated by the speakers, or some one else, in the agricultural papers of the State and county. Of course the fact of recent personal ex perience formed exceptions to the rule, os pecially those recited by Mr. Creighton. At the so-called “ experience” meetings of the convention, which have, in the past, been a most popular feature, too much valuable time is consumed in re-questioning and giving in formation that may be found in any agricul tural paper, and ought to be known to every farmer of ordinary intelligence. These meet ings, while often highly interesting and prof itable, seem at times to be converted into m primary school for novices in farming, in stead of a high school or normal college, from which the members may go forth to teach and to practice advauced and progressivo agriculture. This is largely due to the pres ence and active participation of some few gentlemen who may be said to have “zeal, not according to knowledge,” and who can talk by the hour, but not to edification. A wise and firm presiding officer is indispensa ble at such times.— Exchange. Josh Billings’ Sayings. The man who iz fit for solitude ought bi all means to staj' thare ; he ain’t fit for enny thing else. Thare are thoze who are too lazy to evon be knaves. The grate plezznre in welth iz in the making ov it. After yu hav got it the fun iz over and trubble begins. Whenever i see a yung man or a 3 T nng woman who kan’t cum down to breakfast in the morning or attend a sociable in the evening without a book under their arm, i feel that the country iz safe at last. Whenever i cum akrost au old phellow who remembers everything that haz happened since 1812, and insists upon telling it, i feel glad on his ackount, but sorry upon mi owu. Money only makes a spendthrift poorer. Asa general thing, obstinacy iz the growth ov ignorance, but i have seen obstinacy that was backed bi wisdum ; then it adds power to wisdum. Order iz the very fust law ov bizznesss then dispatch cuius next; suckcess iz allinosi sure to follow. A conservative person iz most generally one who iz willing to sell out enny time, whoa the ockashun and price iz right. Thoze who understand how to administer consolashun aro allwuss the most caushua. about doing it. Thare iz a grate deal ov kontentment in this world that iz simply satisfied with what it kan't git. With kontentment all things are comfort able (even the toothake); without it nothing iz. Truth iz never so holy as whsn it is an adulterated; but It iz possible to make it. more attraktive bi flavoring it with nonsense* Yu kan pik up a lie on the surface ennjr whare, but the truth yu hav got to dig for. The man who don’t believe in enny here after haz got a drodphull mean opinyun ov himself and his chances. About the Magnetic Needle- Why the magnetic needle points to the north is thus explained by Prof. C. T. Patter son, of the United States Coast Survey. The earth is itself a magnet, and attracts the needle just as ordinary magnets do, and it is found to be affected by the action of the sun in a manner not yet fully understood. Tho magnetic poles of the earth are not in lino with the geographical poles, but make an angle with them of nearLy twenty-three degrees. At the present time the northern magnetic pole is near the Arctic circle, on the meridian of Omaha, and, from the nature of the case, the pole may better be described as a region rather than a fixed point. The needle does not every where point to the true astronomical north, but varies within certain limits. At San Francisco it points seven teen degrees east of north, and at Calais,. Me., as much to the west. At the northern magnetic polo a balanced needle points with, its north end downward in a plumb line; at. San Francisco it dips about sixty-throo degrees, and at the southern magnetic polo the south end points directly down. The action of the earth upon a magnetic needle at its surface is of about the same force as, that of a hard steel magnet forty inches long, strongly magnetized, at a distance of one # foot. It is very probable that a study of dynamo-electric machines, now so much used in the electric illuminations, will reveal soon some far-reaching truths regarding magnetism in general. A large monument has been erected at Ivahoka, Mo., with the following inscription 5 “The Spencer Family.—We are all here* murdered with an ax, night of August 3, 1877, at their home. Their bodies lie be neath this tomb, their virtues about it.” It, marks the spot where the five members of the Spencer family were slain, and its dedL cation, witii elaborate ceremonies, drew to-, gether fifty thousand persons, so great had been the excitement over the crime. The deed was palpably committed by one man, who killed his victims one after another aa lie came upon them; but who he was has never been ascertained. Bill Young was hanged by a mob, hut a jury had acquitted him. and there was nothing at all proven against him except his bad character. Hi* last words were : “ I am as innocent of thia thing as the angelsbut the leaders of the lynchers replied : “ You’re a good man to hang, anyhow.” Ilia wife h&jS now sued the county for SIO,OOO damages. The last man to correct a mistake is the : man who commits it. NUMBER 14.