The Cuthbert appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 1866-1884, March 03, 1870, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextI CUTHBERT APPEAL. BY SAWTELL & JONES. CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 3, 1870. VOL. IV- NO. 16. <£ljc €utl)bcvt Appeal. Terms of Subscription: Ora Tub...*<.$2 no | Six Musm $1 lx variably ns advance. Rates of Advertising: On« square, (ten lines or lea*.) ♦! oO-for the •rst ami 75 c**nt« fo- each nubseqnentins^riion Contract flTertiwug as fallows : Space. 3 Months 6 Month" i? Months i rofucBB.^.... *25 00 $15 »<> $ 75 SU 4 Column 40 0» 7.» 0! 1D0 06 One Column.. 50 «*> 90 Oi. 15 J 00 “Obituaries. $1 00 per squnre. A Grind Old Poem. Who shall jiul'c a man from miners? Who shall know bno bj his dress ? Paupers may be Cl for princes, Princes fit for nothing/!eft, ‘Crumpled shirt and- dirtyf jacket. May beclotbe the aeAtfeu or** > Of tin* deepest thought and feeling— Satin vestment* could do no more. There are sprijfjp of crystal nectsr Ever wellisig out of stones, There are mr-ple buds anl golden, Hiddeoycrushed and overgrown : God, wb® counts by souls, not dresses, Lovisf and prospers you and me, While Ale values throne* the highest L as pebbles in the sea. Mafn upraised above bis fellows, t forgets his tellows then ; :rs t rulers. lords remember That your meanest hind* are mea — len by labor, mm by feeling. Men by thought nudm-Mi by fame. Claiming equal rights to sunshine in a man’s eauobling name. There are foam-embroidered oceans, There are little weed clad rills ; There are feeble inch high saplings, There are cedars on the bills. God, who couutd by souls, not stations, Loves and prosp< rs yoe and me ; For to Him all vain distinctions Are as pebbles iu the sea. Toiling hands aline are builders Of a nation’s wealth a.i l tame.; Titled laziness is pensioned, Fed and fattened on the same ; By the sweat of others foreheads, Living oo!y to rejoice, While the poor man’s outraged freedom Vainly lifted up his voice. Truth and justice are eternal ? Born with loveiiu-.*as and light, 8ecret wrongs shall m-ver prosper While there is a sunny bgbt, God, whose world heard voice is singing. Boundless love to you and ine. Sinks oppression with us titles. As the pehbh* in the sea. " A Chicago W vf. M ets Ukr J^ival. About dus- o . Thusday -evening- a woman was observed pacing up and duwti the waiting i*huu iu ttie fSt. L*»u- is dt-jKit. JShe wined to lie exci red, and very anxious for the tiain tr» i#r- rive, as at every soundnhe went to tire window and looked out. When tire train cuine iu she get behind a door und clustiy scrutinized the passengers yw*thty pressed along. Nearly the last ona who went through the door leading •to the street was a very pretty young woman about seventeen years • X age. The woman rushed up to this lady ami took her by the ear. calling her a ‘huz xy' and saying, I h .ve been wailing or y >u some tiiae.’ Sire led her victim along Canal to NL oii.'on fit reel, slili ho’diiig on to her ear. Several gentle men, witnesses to this «xtranrdiiiary pnseeding, imagining that the woman Mas a pi»H-urrss, or intended to ham the young lady, pursue*!-tin* .pair an.I stopped them. They demanded ♦*» ■know a hat the young lady had done that fihe sbou.d bit irea ed in that w.in ner, and the woman told them. Sh «reid sire w 8 mar ied and lived i:i Dili— •cago. The gill resided in HI reming ton. and had been flirting whhtter Ihis. band and <*orrespou-ling with him.— The other day a -letter came to 'tier house, addressed to her husband, and as her lord was uwuy «{*-tied it. - It was from this grrl, and she said ehe would arrived in Oh c.ign by that train, and requested him to meet her at the depot. She had met her, and intended to confront her husband and shame him. The story was told to such a manner as to place its truth l»e- jrond question, so the couple were per H^^^iiitted to depart, the woman still re* fining her hold on the ear of the one ^ftohnd destroyed her happiness and ^■oDopoliZed the affections of her bus- Knd. r t Prince Pierre Honaparte. Corroppondeuce of the World.} Park, January* 19.—Crimsoned are bis hands in his brothers’ b ood, and not from yesterday alone, nor is Victor Noir> assassination th • most odious murder he has committed in his We which began at Rome, the 12tli of Sep- feml»«-r, 1815. He is Pi fare Lttripn Bonaparte’s third son. He has all his life led an adventurer's career. He was scarcely seventeen when, in 1832, he went to the United States, where he re mained at Point Breeze, New Jersey, iu the hooKH of his unde, Jisrpli B*»na- parte, i-X^Killg of Spain. Here he be- cinne acquainted with General Santan der, of Oolnmhiit, South America*, who p**rsu .ded him to take partin tire san granary disturbances, to this day the opjtmbi-imu of most «f the S«»uth Airo*ri* can States. He guv** (he new recruit a maj -r’s eominisdon in some cavalry regiim nt. Prince Pierre «s»n l«cume satiated with this bl-ssj and i'rime siainrwer «d anaiehy, and returned to f> «*' Like all of the younger members of fire Bonaparte family (ihe eldest brother the French Emperor regnant was killed in an MisuiTecti »n in the States of the l egation in 1833) Prince Pierre was S<n»ii stee|K*d t<» n.e u;>s iu political con 8j L acies for the overthrow uf the Pope’s temporal power. Jt was mu l*»ng Irefore he became so active a carbonaro (so these conspirators were called) that he received orders to leave the States of the Legation This wa* in 1836, when he consequently was just turned twenty one. He refused to obey the order. A strong detachment •of the Ptuitiflcai army true sent to exe* eute the order «»f <*xtru«*ioa. J Vince P*erie desisted Arms were used on both sides Prince Pierre killed the enp lam in command. Captain Caslciiacci, a highly esteemed man, wounded tw«» soldiers, and w;rs mi severely wounded himself as easily to b«* made prisoi-er.— He remained some years confined in Sun Angel*» Castle. He says he l»ore ttiis captiv ly ‘w th the disdain a misera ble court o&unot but inspire to a man wire has blood iu his veins.’ of lh< AGAIN IN TUB UNITED STATES. The first use he temde of his liberty was to return •*» the United States h was, hewreven, a mere flying visit; he quickly returned to Europe, made a biief visit to England, and was next heard oi in the Ionian Islands. One day lie determined to go shooting in Greece. You know it is so near that the Ionian Islands, horsemen not ‘Qtifre- queiitly at low tide, -come from lire main to thesp islands, and return the same day. Prince Pierre hired a boat which •c.»uhj Ik; impelled by oars or l»y suils, and went to Greece. A customs ofli- cer, u sort of ti-ie waiter, named Puli- k nes, attempted to search the boat as was his duty. E3T Fresh air by day and by night, strong and nourishing food, drv soil on which to live, sunlight and warm d »th ?ng, are the means of saving many lives which would have Leeti hojielessly lost in the preee«1ing generation, if our conjectures are coriect, this im provement may be expected to continue, and everybody cun help to make it greater. Ventilate the schoolrooms, imd the workshops, and the stores, and the houses. In cold weather ’et the air, comfortably and equally warmed, be gently supplied from without, in a con (Stantly flowing current. Let those who can |*rovide in their horses rememtre: that an open fire «Inch sends two-tiiird> of the heat up the chimney, furnishes the best ventilation for a room of mod erate size which the ingenuity ::f nmn ha® yet dsvi86u, anu tlie heat escaping by the flue is tire price to be paid for it. Let in the rUDlight and never mind the carpets; better they should fade than the health of the family. When a man proposes to build adweriing in a swamp, warn him -of his danger.—Dr. George Zkrby. another murder. P’ince Pierre -haughtily ordered him off. i'al.ik; res ndused lo go. Prince Porto shot him down. PalJikaresV sgp (f>e was a gray fa-a id and a gramlfiii^* crjaiid the general est**eni in w inch In- was 4**4*1, Tmiwetl to a very high piten the indignation of the Giecks at this bi-utat, unprovoked murder, and lire cimifiiotion an shore became so gieat tlret Prtnee Pierre saw hrs only safely 1 »y in fl ght,atnd Ire 4*e^Kirue<l as fast a> his coat ouUid go to tlie Ionian Islands. Tire English uiitlnnires no sooner wrer** made a« quahilcd wh.u lire-dastardly act than they «»rd«-r* d Pi mere Pierie to quit the Is uavls, ami took measure*, whiv h were KUea-est4ul, to «»blaiii a sum of nion- ey for PaiUkailessT.nni|y from the as- sasr-iu's Irremls. H«* returned »« Wes lens Europe, ami alter inak-iug imffeetu ai attempts to obtain service under Me- heiucnt All and a comnussion in the Kreneh Foreign Legion he sundered al> -ut England, Belgium, lioliuml and Germany, until lire revolution of lb48 g ive all advenliCiTs »<liu coulu pr« teim t*i be Fi enchmcn a ckuuce -bi better their condition. ahho'igti lie *ras not the aui.h«>r article. TWO DUELS. The due! trv»k place at St Germain. Pistols were selected. The adversaries were placed thirty paces apart, each to have I he right to advance five paces.— Two shots were exchanged williout re sult: thereupon M. de La Vuleete’s second intervened and declared that while he frit it to be his duty to assume the responsibility of an article, although n<»t its author, he regretted the courage and honor of Prince Pierre had been duuhted ; both sec*md* declared honor satisfied Hisnextduel was with M. Rena de Rovigo, then ddilor of a satirical pa jier. called Le Uorsaire Prince Pierre took offence and challenged M. Rsuede Rovigo. They fought with straight sa bres in the B<nsde B *ul-»gse, M. da Ro- vigo’s first lunge seratche 1 the Prince’s 1. ft I.reast; ami the latter’s pirry dm- aruird the fi»nner. The ndversarie* were again armed, and, during, the n«*Xl- T, Prmcre Pierre was again wounded ; tine dine his bands were scratched. The prii * ipals how insisted upon substitu ting pistols lor swords; bat the s conds said honor was satisfied, and refused to allow the combat to proceed. You will notice that Prince Pierre is never mas ter of himself unless in the presence of an unarmed adversary ; he then di rects his weapon with unerring accura cy. He bowed his head to the coup SM with the same spirit of resignation as Prince Napoleon (likewise a flaming red republican) ! aod received the tides •>f prince uud highness and a considera ble pension without a single protest ugtmst the destruction of the republic. lie lived sometimes in Corsica and sometimes at Auteui!. He rarely w»*ut to the Tuileries; for, wbil receiving honors and money from the Emperor, he protended to be wounded by Ihecoii fiscntioB of tire public liberties. PKINCK PISHRfcrS-PERSONAL APPEARANCE. His head is relatively small for his body. It seems formed ol unusually strong bones. It is almost round iuclin ed to be bald, for the brown hair is sparse; it is smooth and well arranged. Tht'rn is* s slight depression a 4ittle above each temple between the eye brows, which give the face rather a sin gular expression. His eyebrows are arched, but without shading the eye, which seems made of polished brown agate. It is small, bright, but not in tellectual; the left eye has a very slight tendency to squint. The lower eyelid is .swollen and furrowed by small veins —the-eyelid of a Ilian of ungovernable temper. His nose is fat rather than neivous. His month uud lower jaw are bidden by a mustache and an immense beard The diameters cif his face at the cheek bone and at the chin are the same. His cheeks are heavy, fat and pale. His ears seem ^lued to the head. He bus an unu sually short neck. STILL ANOTHER. During this stay in B- Igium, nr* ft her sanguinary e.pisode occurred in his ca reer. It is .shrouded in a good deal of obsouriiy; the only -clear circumstance in it is that lie assat-sfuated someUidy 1 • me t»t«*ry goes -that the |K*rs««n assassi nated was a poacher, amrtlrer -that a guuie-keepvr it* dated tire PrHH* awl Was slmi dtmre. lie returued to Paris in 134 < > and obluiued u ewimnissioo as inaj n iu the Foreign Legiou. He was ordered to Africa, wlicTe the legion serves, but did is»t remain tlrere long.— At the siege ol Zaatcha he was about to le id his soldieis to the assault of a redoubt, when the t>«btuel id* tire ix?gi- nienl gave him a si-vere scolding alsret some order which Ire iuid jnisiRirerjireted Prince Pierre, without saving, a wend tin tied Iim Inuse ar-iuiid, rode back to camp, packed his i-h*lbes and proceeded t«* Paris Had h s reputation for cour age nor been well established, this reck- Jes-nesS would have been altt-ndtd with awkward consequences. His first visit in Paris was pa.d the Minister of War (General P. lJautp«*Hl)’’ who was unuiz. ed to nee him, ami the following any his commission was cancelled. This event gave rise to some discussion iu the Con stituent. Assembly. In the course of the debate the Minister of War, spe.ik ing of his courage, said a skirmish had tak^n place before the assault of Zautciia was ordered, and that Prince P.erre had 19* 4 Charlie,’ said grandma, reprov* ingly, 4 your portion will be in the burn^ ing lake, at least if you go on telling so many stories.’ 4 Oh, no, grandma, 1 couldn't stand it.* * But y«»u will l*e made to stand it, my boy.* * Oh, well, grandma, if l «mt only Stand it it’s ail FfghU* _ E3T Teacher—• Coma here, you jpoting scamp, aud get a bound spunk— ing/ Scholar-?-* You han’t got no right to spank rue, and the copy you set mu s»vs BO.* Teacher— 1 1 should like to hear you read that copy.* Soho ar (read.**)— 4 Let all the ends thoq aimest at be tby country’*/ KILLED AN ARAB with bis own hand, which was to be ex- {•reeled from a man who bore the name i f‘Bonaparte.” Corsica sent him to the Constituent Assembly’. He always vi»- tred with the extreme left—he voted against the chambers, for the right to labor, for the progressive tax (levied on th*o rich in proportion to their incomes), for the abolition of the salt tux, tor the amnesty of the iusuigents of *uue, and for the republican constitution. He was, nevertheless, a warm supporter «»f Prince Louis Napoleon, although nick named in the Assembly Pierre le Rouge (red Pierre.) SLAPS A LEGISLATOR’S FACE. One day an old man, M. Gustier, who •at behind him, interrupted some speak er by crying, ‘He (Louis Napoleon) is a fool.” Prince Pierre immediately turn**d around and slapped M. Gustier. A scene of great contusion followed.— Prince Pierre was tried fur this assault uod fined two hundred francs. The newspaper L’Assemblee National*; pub lished uti article on the Prince's conduct before Zaatcbn, and be e^gt a challenge, Bleep and Death.—‘To love without fearing death,’said Hiiteluiid, ‘is the only ineuus of living huj^iy and dying at a good old age. People who dread deulh seldom attain longevity, jf death presents itseif to u* under a re. piikuve and terrifying aspect, it is solely owing to HHr habits and pngudicen iiav ing porverted our feelings. Montaigne justly said that it a* the darkening the room, the faces full uf grid and desoi lion, the moaning and crying, that make death teriffic. Oiviljzalion, by invest * death with tire must lugubrious as sociations that it can conjure up, has also contubuud to rendering it a hid «»us spectie. It is the reverse with the pattern. In nine casus out often is not only a relief, Imt alms.-t a Sense xaf vo- lupluousHess. Sleep dally teaches us the reality oi death, ‘bleep and death are twin*-,* said the {Miets of iiiiliipiity.— Why.thm, should we feat death, when we daily invoke its brother as a friend and a consolation? ‘Lite,’ Said Btiflon. ‘begins to fail long before it is utirerly gone.’ Why, then, should wre dread the last m.-ment, when we are prepared lor its advent by so many other mo ments id a similar character ? Death is as natural us hie. B »ih come to us in the same any, without our cousiinus- ness, witboHi our oeiug able to deter mine tire advent of either.. No <ft)e knows tire ex.ret moment when he goes to sleep. Roue will know the rexart mo* un-tit of his deulh. Jt is ceitain that death is generally a pleasurable feeling. Lucan used to say that life would be unsuppor table to man if'the gods had not hkidcii from him the happiness he would experience in dying. Tullius Alarcellinus, Fra-ncis Suarez and the piiilosi^her La Alettrie, all spoke of the voluptuousness i f tlireir Iasi moments.— Such are the consolations which |>hilos i phy presents t»* timid minds that dread death. Wo need not say what much higher and loftier cons*Gallons await the (Juristian who is firm and steadfast in his faith, and has before him the prospect of eternal life. The Island of San Juan.— Robinso.i Crusoe’s famous isle has been colonized l»y a well organized company of Ger* 4 man emigrants. It was ceded iu 1868 to Robert Wehrdan, an engineer from Saxony, who after seiving the United Stales as a Major during the war of tlie rebellion, engaged in exploration for railroad companies in South Ameri ca. He has induced a company o*‘ Ger mans, sixty or seventy in number, to migrate to this island, and they are quite delighted with their prosjrects.— They find it a lovely and fertile spot, stocked already with herds of wild goats and with a few wild horses and don- • keys. Th(>y have brought ,i lem caitle, swine and fowls, agricultural and fiah'Sg implements, and all needful equipments for a strong colony. The grotto so famous as fiobinaon's house, still remains. It is situated in a large valley, covered with an exuberant growth of wild turnips. A Chilian Bel)w tis Bank s Crust- From the Mnskegin (M;cb.) Euterir *.] iYhen we were publishing a p «per in LewUburg, West Virginia, several years ago, a wry singular accident befell a young man there, which we narrated briefly at the time A few days ago we chanced to meet him here, in Muskegon, and be nanated his adventure at our request. It occurred on the farm of (m. A. W. G. Davis, in Greenbrier county, in 1856 We give the story in bis own words, at Bear as wre can re- crilrct there : *1 was plowing on G**n. Davis’ farm, in 1856,* said he, ‘unsuspicious of l>eing on insecure gi<>uud, when suddenly the earth seemed to fall beneath me. 1 saw tire horses descending, but was too frightened to let go the plow handles- Tne pitch «»f the horses with the earth gave my tall au impetus, and somehow 1 caught the mane of onv of them in m3'fa I and so held instinctively. What ^Iren falling, I can hardly tell. At any Tate, I did some rapid thinking. When I larul«d I fell or the horse whose ninne I had bold of, ami, although the horse was instantly killed. I was merely stunned and confused — On recovering I looked up, and the hole thr<High which I had falleo looked so snail I concluded i must have fallen 150 feet. My first thought was to cull for aid, but I instantly recoUecled the fact tnat I was ut least a mile from GeB. Davis’ house*, and that there was not tin* iera >test probability that any one had seefl tny descent into the earth. *It was then eaily morning, and as I had brought out my dinner with me, no | one would miss me before nightfall.— While going over these facts «i my miud, I beard the rush of water near at hand, and it occurred to me that I must have fallen upon tire bed of Sink ing Creek, which as you know, falisinto the earth above Frank Tort, and docs not cotne out but once till it reaches the haiiks! of the^Grcenbrier River. To say where I was, or lo attempt to follow the subterraneous pwsage, was the next quesiiou. I sometimes took the team to my own tenant stables, and therefore might not be missed for days; so i de* terrnined to fodow the stream. I wa ded in it, and, judging from it* depth of from one to three "feet, I concluded it must be the identical Sinking Creek spoken of. Leaviug my dead compan ion behind me, 1 fo lowed the stream.— For most part 1 had pretty easy work of it, but soaie.i ties 1 came to a deep place, where 1 was forced to swim for a con siriemble distance; again was often precipitated headlong into deep water by the precipitous ua ure of the rocky bed of rire fftrereui. ‘Talk about lire darkness of the grave.’ The grave itself could not have beeu more itnpulpably dark than the pas sage I was following. The ’0<*casii»na! rippling of the water was an inexpressi bly dear souod to my eurs. Day and niglit were the sum« to me. At last, wearrieH with my effort*, I laid down on a comparatively dry ruck to Test, and tiiu&t have slept for hours. When 1 aw.<kc agaiu I took to 4he water/ careful y ascertaining which way it ran, so as not to I os* toy labor by retracing rny sieps. It seemed to me that the tu. tiier i went the mere difficult pro gress became. \\ hen 1 had gone per- ha{« a mile, I came to a place where ilie archw..y narrowed so much that 1 had to crawl im my hands and knees iu be water. •Here was a oileimna I had not look ed for. I tried either bunk of the liver, but found no passage. I could swim under water for a considerable distance, l*ut the distance before me was uu known, and 1 hul ed long before ma king the dangerous venture. At lust I concluded that my fate was equally doulnful in returning as in pr<»ceeding and plunged bokliy into the current, and soon found that it was so swift in iti confined pusi-age that I only needed to hold my breath to go through. In the cour>e ef twenty or tnrr y feet I again got my head above water, and took a long breathing spell. Again ihearcfiwav above seemed to enlarge, alio lire bed of the stream became more even. 1 sped along compar- a.i rely iRpi-dy, keeping my hands outstretched to prevent my running against the jigged rocks. Wearied out, I again iaiii down and slept sound ly in my wet clothes. ‘On awakening 1 pursued, my course down the subterranean »tiearn, and at last, in the long distance ahead, saw a glimmer that looked very bright in the darkness 1 was then shut in. Nearing this, I found that it did not increase iu brightness; and when I had gone per« haps a mile, 1 came to anotlier place where my path Burrowed to the very tunnel filled by the water. My case was now become more desperate I couid not possibly retrace my steps, so 1 submitted myself to the current, and w'as imrnsusuiably overjoyed to find myself i apidly swr. pt into daylight. Bx hausted and half drowned, l crept out upon the land and was not long in re- ogniziag tire obj -els about me A had c<*nie out into tha Greeobrier River, &* I kiireVjrouiHhe familiar liM»k of Gen Davi s mill on the bank. On reaching home I found that I had been over for ty-eighl hours in making my (>erilous journey of six miles underground/— The hole wjiere this man went through is now fenced round. On listening, one can plain ly hear the rush of water be b»w, and a stone thiown down will sometimes be heard to splash in the stream. The St. Louis Ghost Story. For the Si. Louis Republican.] Thera is a fresh rumor in the way ol a haunted house, and while Tally as in- credihle us such stories generally are, it is creating a small sensation. Thii time the tnuneiofl is not tu a b«*gjry pra irto I sit tom, hut Bear the corner of six tuenth and Morgan streets, a three- •ti>rv brick, with a gray, desolated ap pearance We are not disposed to fill much space with details on such a sub ject, but for the edification of the loeers of the ghostly we give the statement of the young girl principally concerned. It is exactly as she made it to a visitor : OTATKMXXT or MISS JENNIE DEBONNAIRI. Mv name is Jennie Debonnaire: 1 am fifteen years of age- I think it was last Thursday I w«Ht to the bouse on the corner of Sixteenth and Morgan street first,- I had heard people talking ntxmt it, and wanted to see; so i got Ae fceyy»^: the agent and went there; I wan if there was any truth in the stories ; I got to the bouse as it was getting dusk; I think it must have been near seven o’clock ; I went in and stood in the hall, inside the hall door; I called out, ‘if there are any spirits, or anything of the sort here, in the name of tlie Lord let it appear.’ Then saw near the top of the stairs which goes up to the second story from the half, as if it was the head of a man.— The face was pale and bloody. There were cuts ca the throat and head. It w'-s that of a light-complected mao with early hair. Then it seemed as if I raw the man from the waist up; then as if the form was complete, but one leg was cut off. The man called out, ’Zooia, Z >ola.’ This was the name my father used to call me. 1 said : ‘That’s not my name, and I will not answer.’ Then the man replied ‘Jennie.’ I ask ed him in the name of the Lord, what was the matter with him ? He said, ‘Coroe and' f will show you.’ Then I followed hitn down to the cellar, be leading me. I wns quite close to bim, and lie seemed dressed like any ether inan and with two legs. The stairs to the cellar are underneath those leading to the eecond story. When I got dowu into the cellar, it Lighted up. A white light like the day; I don’t know how he did it. The man pointed to a spot in the East side, and said down there is $3,000 in gold, and then pointed to an other spot more North, he said, down there tny bones arc hurried. I asked his name; and he said Joseph Scott, ar.d he told me he had been killed by a man named Phil. Ainberg, who was now in Philadelphia. Ho said he had been murdered for his money, and that the man who had killed him had taken most of the money away with him, but that he had buried the 83,000 in the cellar, as it was too heavy to carry. He after- wards got too scared of the place to come b ck after it. He asked me to go and tell the Masons about it—for he was a Mason; that he wanted his bones ■bin ied,-jmd, asked me if I wouldn't do it for hnn, I sa'd I would. When I went Up-Jo the front door he kept close by me, Innas’! wan going out he sud denly vanished. Mother and f next day went to the house, and slept in ft two nights. We had to leave it. Mother could no tstand the continual liainmering noise which went on, and the sound of a man walk, ing heavily up the cellar stairs. Three knocks woo d be given at the room, when; we were, and then i would see the same man coming it seemed through the door. When we were in bed, he would come ana stand at the foot, and ask me if I would not have his bones bu ried. Then w hen I would be going nut of the house. 1 would see a hand just afxrve the cellar stairs b choiring me down there. I was not afraid. I weet to the big building on Market street where I saw the Mason’s sign. I told them there, and they sent me lo Third street, and a man directed me to the po ice office, and 1 told the story to the captain. I can do no more. I can’t go down into the cellar and dig myself.— Anyliody who goes to the house cm hear toe noise, and ac’vbody who docs not want to make fun of the case can see the man, Joseph Scott. He told mo 80.’ Such is the young person’s entire ex perience, as rcheaised by herself. If Mr. P. Ambr-rg lives in the Quaker (jity, we have no donbt he will be either greatly amused or greatly shocked at that bill of indictment drawn up by a child. There were several visitors yes terday to Miss Debonnaire, to make in quiries, and the curiosity is on the in crease. Will no chivalrous young gen tlencm volunteer to dig in the cellar niitil they find the money and the bones? How Some People Harry. A young man meets a pretty face in the ball room, falls in love with it, courts it, marries it, goes to housekeeping with it, and boasts of having a home aod wife to grace it. The chances are, nine to ten, that he has neither. He has been “taken in and done for 1” Her pretty face gets to be an old story, or becomes faded, or freckled, or fretted and as tha face was all he wanted, all he paid attention to, all he sat up with, all he bargained for.aH he swore to love, honor and protect, be gets sick of his trade, knows of a dozen faces he likes Letter, gives ap staying at home eve nings, consoles himself with cigars, oys ters and politics, and looks upon his home as a very indifferent boarding house. A family of children grow up about him; but neither he nor his “face” know anything about training them, so they come up hultcr-skelter; made toys of when babinsj doll* when boys and girls, drudges When men and women; and so passes year after year, and not one quiet, happy, homely bom- known throughout the whole household. Another young man becomes enamor ed of a “fortune." He waits upon it to parties, dances the polka with it, ex changes iiUetdtux with it, pops the ques, lion to it, gets accepted by it, takes it to the parson, weds it, calls it “wile,” car- ries it home, sets up an establishment with it, introduces it to bis friends, aud says be, too, is married and has got home. It is false. He is Dot married : he has no home. And he soon finds it out. He is in the wrong box; bnt it is too late to get out of it; he might as well hope to got out of his coffin. His friends congratulate him, aod he has to grin and bear it. They praise the house, the furniture, the cradle, the new baby, the new Bible, and bid the “for tune,” and he who husbands it, good morning. As if he had known a good morning since he and that gilded Ten- tune were declared to be one. Take another case. A young woman is smitten with a pair of whiskers.— Curled hair never before bad such uharms: She sets her cap -for them; they take. The delighted whiskers make an offer, proffering themselves both in exchange for one heart. The dear miss is overcome with magnanimi ty, closes the bargain, curries home the prize, shows R to pa and ma, calls her self engaged to it, thinks there never was such a pair of whiskers before, and in a few weeks they are married. Married I Yes, the world calls it so, and so we will. What is the result ? A short hon eymoon, and then the discovery that they are as unlike as chalk and cheese, aud not to be made one, though all the priests in Christendom pronounce them so. How to Plant a Tree. ^ Another, iioox for the Earth.—A Ucrmau scientist has recently created a considerable sensation by the publica tion of a pamphlet, in which be takes the ground fbat the zodiacal light pro ceeds front a gaseous ring surrounding the earth at a distance of only a few thousand miles from its surface. This gas, be thinks, is in a state of quiet combustion, but is now fast cooling off, youngster wlm has cftaige of the swine, i t i consequence, wiil soon burst and is assigned to this valley, us the turnips aggregate into a globular mass, and afford good feeding lo the swine, and lie may revive memories of Robinson by tuking jossession ot the grotto. As J uan Fernandez is now a regular stop, ping place where whalers take in wood and water, we shall have frequent re ports ol the fortunes of the new colo nists. A rash chap says that the giving of (he ballot to women would not amount to much, for none of them would admit that they weie old enough to vote uutil they were too old to take any in- j terest in politics. form a second moon for the earth, inside of the orbit of our present luminary.— His idea is founded ua the now general ly leceived tlieoiy that all the planets uud moons huve been formed in that manner. Tlie supposition is giossible. We know but little uf the cause or con stitution of the phenomenon known as tlie Zodiacal light.—Mining l'rat. In Chicago, husbauds are said to be so much under petticoat government that they add to their announcement of future movement* the letters ‘ W, P.,’ which means ‘ wife permitting.’ Youxo Mix.—An exchange truly says: “Thousands of young men are to day drifiing helplessly about on the ocean of life, vainly hoping lhat ere long some favorable bieeze will spring up and drive their vessels into some safe harbor. Where that safe harbor is they have bo idea; because they have no definite object in view. They have nev r decjffi^J upon any course of life, but permit fTieir actions to be shaped and moulded by tlie circumstances of the hour. la it any wonder that disas ters f-illuw each other in quick succes sion ? More men are ruined through in decision than from a wrong decision.— Few men will delibcratdy lay nut and pursue a p.an of life that will ultimately work their ruin. Most young men of ine present day eater the great battle of life without any well defined system of warfare, and consequently spend their best days in aimless pursuits. In decision is the bane of our existence.— Could we look into the world of spirits we would find bnt few snnls in the dark regions of woe that had resolved to reach that goal; nearly all who are there, and those who are hastening there, are in their present condition sim ply because they never decided whither they would go, aud their indecision has been their ruin. IS- A Valparaiso merchant recently receiving a challenge from an officer with whom he had quarreled, sent back this answer : ‘ I have no desire whatever to kill you, still less do I descre to be killed myself. Here is what 1 propose : Go to the nearest w>“*d. Choose a tree about as stout as myself, place yourself fifty, thir ty, or even fifteen steps from it—just us you like—and then fire bravely on the tree If yon hit it, I will admit that I was in the wrong, and will offer you an apology. In the contrary case, I shall b" ready to receive yours,* In transplanting treets, much depends upon the knowledge und skill exercised. Thousands of flue, trees are lost every year thrungh the ignorance and caru- lessuess of ttrirflsjftgHtere.* la taking up ‘u tree or shrub for truuspiauting, be careful to injure the roots as little us possible. But in all cases flic roots will be maimed -more or less. The feeding power ot the tree is to the same extent decreased, and it will not be able tu sustaiD the draft made upon it by tlie stein and leaves. These must be diminished correspondingly by heading back or shortening. In prepar ing a place lor the reception of the tree, avoid, if possible, the sites of old trees. Dig a hole considerably larger than the clump of the tree’s routs, and Irotn fifteen to twenty inches deep, placing the sods, if in sward land, in one heap, the soil in another, and the subsoil ir. a third. The hula should be filled with a mixture of the soil, subsoil, aud rich, black loam, and little well-rot ted compost manure, containing wood- ashes aad lime, lo the beigtit where it is proper to place the tree, which should fie no deejier than it grew in the nurse ry. iVith the hand or spade shape the soil for tlie roots into the form of a lit tle cone, on which to set the hollow in the centre of the clump of rooLs. If this is done some weeks or cveH months, before setting the tree, it will be all the better. Avoid stable manure as the time of planting. If the ground be dry, or if the roots have lieen much exposed to the air since tlie tree was taken up, soak the roots and the lower part of the trunk in water twelve or twenty-four hours.— Cat off all bruised and broken ettds of loots smoothly with a knife, and shor ten in the longest, so that the clump of roots may have a somewhat circular form. In catling a root, always enter the knife upon the under side, and bring it out with a slope, to tire upper side, so that the fibres which may shoot out from the edges of the <?ut shall strike dowuward into the ground, instead of upward, as they would were the cut made as it commonly is. With good, rich soil fiill np under, among, around, and above the roots, straightening them out with the fingers, and placing them-ill a fan-like and nat ural position, being very cautions not to leave any, even small, hollow places among them. If the foot is onesided, make the most you can of the weaker part At this stage of tho process, a buck et of water is de^irablo lo pour about the roots; but the watering, if the roots be fresh, is not essential, except in the case of evergreens. Next, put iu a little more earth, pressing it aronnd the tree with the foot. After this, throw on an inch or so of loose earth, aud the work is done.—Rural CaraUnian. Half Cash and Half Barter—a Cute Trick. A Connecticut broom peddler—a shrewd chap, from, over among the steady habits,wooden clocks,schoolmas masters, and otberfixins—drove through the streets of Providence heavily laden with corn brooms. He had called at several stores and offered his load, or ever so small a portion of it; but when he wanted the cash, and nothing else, in payment, they had uoiformly given him to understand that they had brooms enough, snd that he might go further. At length be drove up to a large whole sale store ou the West side, and once more offered bis wares. “Well, I want the brooms badly enough,’’ said the merchant, "but what will yc« take in pay ?” This was a poser The peddler was aching to get rid of bis brooms : he despised the very sight of his brooms; but he would do euoser sell a single broom for cash than the- wheio lead for any otherarticle—especially that which he could not dispose of so readily as he could brooms. After a moment’s hesitation, however, he screwed his courage to the slicking point—it requir ed some courage, alter having lost his chance of selling his load half a dozen times by a similar aBswer—and frank ly told the merchant he must have cash. Of course, tlie merchant protested that cash was scarce, and that he must pur chase, if he purchased at all, with what he had in his store to pay with. He really wanted the brooms and (fid not hesitate to any so. But the time* were bard, and he had notes to pay, and had goods that must ire disposed of. Finally, lie said he would put the goods at ths cost price, for the sake of trading, and would take the whole load of brooms which the peddler had la bored so unsuccessfully at the other stores to dispose of. •So nnioaa tho brooms,’ said be to the man from Connecticut, ‘and select any articles from tny store, and you shall have them at cost price.’ The peddler scratched bis bead.— There was an idea there, as the sequel shows plainly enough. ‘I tell you what it is,’ he answered Ut last, just say them terms for -half the load, and cash for t’other haiC, and I'm your man. lH>wed ef I don’t sell eout. if Connecticut sinks with all her broom stuff, the next minute.’ The merchant hesitated n moment, but finally concluded the change a good one. He would be getting half the brooms for something that would no’, sell as readily; as for the cost price, it was easily gammon in regard to it. The bargain was struck, the brooms were brought in, and tho cash for half of them was paid over. ‘Now, what will you have for the re mainder ef your bill ? asked the mer chant. * The peddler scratched his head, again, aod this time more vigorously.— He walked the floor, whistled and (drum med with his fingers on the he-ad of a barrel. By-and-by his reply came— slowly, deliberately and emphatically : You Providence fellers are cute; yon sell at co-t, pretty much all of you, and make money. I don't see how its dona. Now, I don't know about your goods, barrin’ one article, and ef I take any thing else I may be cheated. So, seem’ as 'twon’t make any odds with you, I guess I’ll take brooms. I know them line a book, end can swear to jest what you paid for’em. And so saying, the peddler votnmen ced re-loading his broom-*, and having deposited hall of his fi»rmer load, jump ed od his cart with a regular Gonecticut grin, and leaving the merchant cursing his impudence and bis own stapidity, drove off in search of another custom er, A Young Man in Debt. A young man running in debt i* a painful sight. Iho disposition to do this is the forerunner and exponent of all evil. Apo.'tolic authority says:— •The love of money is the root of aN evil.’ But when a young man loves money so well as to get it while know ing he cannot repay, or be willing to tuke it before be has hrihestly earned it, there is, in most cases, lying behind thiB, some passion so strong as to thus over bear his moral principles, ia clamoring for its indulgence. Pleasure, especial ly unlawful pleasure, is a |reriIous thing. Lawful, necessary and healthful pleas ure, like the pure mountain spring, have beea made accessible by our Creator at comparatively little trouble and expense. Any indulgence may Ire known as unlawful when it can lie reached only by running in debt The highway iff sin ia an expensive road to truvel. The fare, the charges, are all high. And. they have to be paid twice over, not only in currency, bnt also in something wore precious than gold, quarried from the depths and springs of onr being.— No person ever traveled on that high way, so attractive in prospect, without beepming Unnkrupt, and pawning his own peace and life, long before he got to tire end of bis journey. Whenever a young man, however moderate his salary-, is seen alway* cramped for money, and ready to bor row of his friends, ho is surely on the downward grade of virtue and reaped- ability. Willingness to run in debt is itself a great vice. It is caused by ths wish to gratify the unlawful craving ly ing behind, perhaps undisclosed to the eyes of the world. Experienced men readily judge what this want of money indicates; and, however fair your char acter may seem in other respects, they will be satisfied, from this alone, that there is some hidden taint and unsouud- However small your income, always ness live within yoar mean9. There is far less unhappiness in doing without even necessary thiogs, than there is iu the consciousness of being in debt. Herod otus says, that among the ancient Per sians, ‘To tell a lie is considered them the -greatest disgrace; next to that to be in debt; and this for many reasons, but especially because they think that one who runs in debt must, of necessity, tell lies.’ Docs your ex perience, your consoience, tell yon this is true ? Always keep mi unspent and unpawn ed dime in the bottom of your pocket. Its touch will always be invigorating; anil, with talisfnanic power, send throngh your soul enetgy, making you carry a countenance Unshed with honorable frankness. This simple dime ia invalu able, as the symbol of manly independ ence. The consciousness of debt in a young man, begets incipient meanness of character and, when continned, de velops this into a confirmed habit, tain- tisg the whole nature. A man yet iu his prime, who has accumulated a for- tune of two millions by honest industry, said,*] began with a -determination U> keep all my wages. . When getting ouiy twenty five cents a day, I always saved something.’ This principle ha* carried him, and will carry you, to high elevation of character, to great influ ence, and to independent fortune.—Tht Qaidant. Chances of Mahmaok.—The follow ing curious statement, by Dr. Granville, is taken from a late English paper; it is drawn from the registered Casus of 876 women, and is derived from their an swers to the age at which they are res pectively married. It is the first ever constructed U» exhibit to females their chances <>f marriage at various ages.— Of the 876 females, 3 were mamed at 13 years of age; 11 at 14; 16 at lo; 43 at 16; 45 at 17; 68 at 18; 115 at 19; 118 at 20; 86 at 21; 85 at 22; 59 at 23; 53 at 24 ; 27 at 25; 24 at 26; 28 at 27; 22 at 281 17 at 29; 9 at 30 ; 7 at 31; 5 at 32; 7 at 33; 5 at 34 ; 2 at 35; 0 at 36 ; 2 at 37 ; 0 at 38; 1 ut 39; 0 at 40 From this onr fair read ers may form a pretty accurate judg ment uf the chano** which Urey have **f entering into the holy state of matrimo ny, aad of enjoying the sweets (we say ed ded life. How He Got Her.—A late interview of Mormondom relates bow Brigham Young got one of his wive*, ns follows : Ooe of his wives is very handsome, and at the same time elegant and dis tinguished. She is named Amelia, and oftener called beautiful Amelia, She was formerly the wife of a rich citizen of New York. Romantic and unoccupied, she dreamed of something eccentric to cure herself iff the ennui which became atorment in the prosaic middle way through which her life led. Tire newspapers spoke of the famous Brigham Young, both as being a pope and a severing. Amelia read all this, aod one day she said to herself: ‘I will become tfce queen of Salt Lake City by my handsome eyes acd my beauty 1 will subjugate this man and gain such influence over him that he shall ever re nounce polygamy. She took pen and ink, a handsome sheet of paper, and wrote this note to him : ‘I believe that grace has come upon me. I wish to become a Mormon, if yon will marry me.’ ' She did not have to wait long for the answer : ‘Come 1 you shall bo received with open arms, and shall become tny wifc.’ Amelia sought a divorce and obtain ed it, without having revealed her ob ject. Again free, she loft (or Salt Lake City with an escort ol honor which the sovereign of Utah had sent her. Her arrival made a sensation. Nev er before hud the Mormons seen to beautiful and elegant a woman, Brig ham Young was rayished, enchanted He received her as if she were a queen, and covered her with flowers, laces and diamonds- She became all she anticipated in power and influence, with one exception. She could not induce Bi ighara to de stroy polygamy. He always said,‘God has imposed it upoo ua. I cannot diso bey the will of the Most High.’ Bishop Simpson said in one of his recent lectures that while in Europe he never travelled with a German stu dent without being told that he (the student) was saving money to go to America, nor rode with an Irishman that did not ask him if he knew his tar a ‘What i* gentleman once asked.— woman ?’ when a married man replied,—’She is an essay on grace, ia one Volumn, elegantly bound. Al though it may be dear, every should have a copy of it.’ T3T\ person being asked why he hud given his daughter to a man with wh >m he was at enmity, replied : * l did it out of mrs icy Tea and Coffee- flail’s Journal of health says : taking into account the habits of the people, teiandcooflee foT supper and break fast add to human health and life, if a single cup be taken at either meal, aud is never increased in strength, frequen cy or quantity. If they were mere stimulant-*, and were taken thus in mode ration aBd with uniformity, they would in time, become inert, or the system woaU become so habituated to their employment ns to remaid in the same relative position to them as if they had never been used ; and consequently, as lo themselves they had better never have been used, as they are liable to abuse. Bat science and fact unite In declaring them to be nutritious os well as stimulant; hence they will do a new good to tire system every day to the end of life, just as bread and fruits do ; hence we never get tired of either. Bnt the nseof bread aod fruits is daily abus ed by multitudes, and dyspepsia and chol era morbus results ; yet we onght to forego the use of tea and coffee, be cause their inordinate use gives neural gia and other ailments. Hat the habit ual use of tea and eoff e, ot the last and first meals of the day, has another high advantage— is productive of incal culable good in tho way of averting evils. « We will drink at our meal*, and If we do not drink these, we will driok what is Worse—cold water, milk or al coholic mixtures. The regular u»e of these last will lead the young to drun. ktmess; the considerable employment of simple milk, at meals, by sedentary people—by »H, except the- robust— will either constipate, or render bilious; i While cold water largely used, that es pecially in cold weather, attracts to it self so much of the heat of the system, Id raising said water to the temperatoro of the body—about one hundred de grees—that the process of digestion is arrested ; in the meanwhile,' giving rise to a deathly sickness of the stomach, to twisting pains, to vomitings, purging, and even to cramps. Hanger From Hating Nets.—Medical men advise that salt should be taken with nuts, especially when eaten at night. One time, says a writer, while enjoying a visit from an Englishman, hickory nuts were served in the evert ing, when my Eoglish friend called for salt, statiDg that he knew a case of a woman eating heartily of nuts te the evening, who was taken violently ill.— The celebrated Dr. Abernathy was sent for, but it was after be had be- come too fond of his cup, and be was not in a condition to go. He muttered hsalt, salt,” of which no notice was ta ken. Next morning be went to this place, and she was a corjise. lie said that bad they given her salt it wuH have relieved her; if they would allow bim to make an examination be woald convince them. On openiog the stom ach the nuts were found iu a muss — He sprinkled salt os this, sod imoiedi- ately it dissolved. I A Western paper, commenting on the high price of eggs, thinks lhat Irena could make piles of money now

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Cuthbert appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 1866-1884, March 03, 1870, Image 1