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CUTHBERT
APPEAL.
J. P. SAWTEUL.
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER.l, 1870.
VOL. IV—NO. 41
E. S. PURDY,
Manufacturer of
Harness and Trails
le and Retail Dealer in
_ of Sadlery Ware,
,f Wliftaker and Bryan Sts.,
*NNAH, ga.
for Robber Belting, Hose and
' Leather Belting,
m ,Jgi a,8 °» Stretched
d promptly.
sepl7-6m
GUXLM ART IN,
JOHN FLANNERY.
L J. GUILMARTIN & CO.,
Cotton Factors,
General Commission Merchants,
Bay St., Savannah, Ga.
Agents for Bradley's Super Phos
phate of Lime, Powell's Mills
Yarns and Domestics, etc.
Bagging, Rope and Iron Ties, al
ways on hand.
Usual Facilities Extended to Customers,
sepl 7 -6m
A. J. MILLER A CO.,
FURNITURE DEALERS,
150 Broughton Street,
SAVAMAH, GEORGIA.
w
E HAVE ON HAND, and are con
tinuully receiving, every variety of
Parlor and Bedroom Sets,
Bureaus, Waslietands, Bedsteads, Chairs,
Rockers, Wardrobes, Meat Safes, Cradles,
Looking Glasses, Feathers, Fcatheibeds, Pil
lows. etc.
Hair, Moss, Shuck and Excelcior Matrasses
on band, and made to order.
Jobbing and Repairing neatly dote, and
with despatch.
We are fully prepared to fill orders.
Conntry orders promptly attended to.
All letters of inquiry auswered promptly.
scpl7-6m.
MARIETTA MARBLE YARD.
J AM PREPARED TO FURNISH
Marble, Monuments,
Tombs, Head and Foot Stones,
Vaces, Urns, Vaults, etc.,
At very reasonable terms, made of
Italian, American and Georgia
M A B. B Zj S .
IRON RAILING Put Up to Order.
For information or designs address me at
this place, or
DR. T. S. POWELL, Agent,
Cntlibcrt, Ga.
Address,
J. A. BISAAER,
sepl7-6m Marietta, Ga.
GEORGE S. HART & CO.,
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From the LaGrange Reporter.
A Mother’s Sorrow and Comfort
At midnight’s hour, while others slept,
From troubled dreams we woke aod wept,
Fc death had o’er our threehold crept
For little Aurelia,
The watchman’s lamp was burning low-
We could not see our loved one go ;
Thera was uo aouod, no cry, but 01
Our darling Amelia.
So still she lay—ao very still—
White as the snow-flakes on the hill;
We touched her cheek, it gave a chill;
Our little Aurelia.
Our hearts with grief were running o'er,
For little Pearl we ceased Dot to deplore,
Who died a few brief days before
Our little Aurelia.
And now another—help us, Lord,
By the dear promise ol tby word,
To drink the cup which thou hast poured,
Of grief for little Aurelia.
We kissed and laid her from our sight
Id all her childish beauty bright,
Down in the grave’s cold quiet night,
Our lovely Aurelia.
'Twere hard to turn to life again,
Through everything—the dying pain
Revived in nature— all in vain
For little Aurelia.
Then faith, with sweet assurance, said,
Behold, the lovely one is not dead
Up with the angels overhead,
Sings little Amelia.
And not alone her tiny feet
Went upward in the “golden street
Our angel Pearl came forth to meet
Dear little Aurelia.
Two sweet twin sistere, hand in haDd,
In his dear presence joyful stand,
Who called them to hie better land,
Our Pearl and Aurelia.
Ten months on earth, but now they sleep ;
Infant springs guardian angels keep ;
Why should she—can a mother weep
For the Pearland Aurelia!
In spirit land they’ll both grow strong,
And shout hosannah around God’s throne.
Waiting to welcome poor mother home—
Both Pearl and Aurelia.
LaGrange, Sep. 5, 1870. Mother.
Would Sing It.—A story is told
of an old clergyman who had the
most unbounded faith in Watts’
hymn-book. He was fond of say
ing that he could never opon to any
page without finding an appropri
ate hymn. A mischievous son of
his thought it would be a good joke
to test his father’s faith. So he
took an old song and pasted it on
one of the pages of the book, over
a hymn, so nicely that it could not
be easily detected. At church, on
Sabbath morning, the minister hap
pened to open at that very page,
and commenced to read :
“Old Grimes Is dead.”
There was a sensation in the audi
ence. He looked at the choir and
they looked at him ; but sneh was
his faith in Watts’ hymns that he
undertook it again, commencing
with the same line. There was
another sensation in the audience.
Looking at it again, and then at the
choir, said he, “Brethren, it is here
in the regular order in Watt’s
hymn-book, and we will sing it, any
how.”
Can a Mother Forget ?—Can
a mother forget? Not a morning,
noon or night bnt she looks into
the comor of the kitchen where
yon read Robinson Crusoe, and
think’s of you as yet a boy. Moth
ers rarely become conscious that
their children are grown out of
their childhood. They think of
them, advise them, write to them,
as if not full fourteen years of age.
They cannot forget the child.—
Three times a day she thinks who
are absent from the table, and
hopes that next year, at the far
thest, she may have “just her own
•family there,” and if you are there,
look out for the fat limb of a fried
chicken, and that coffee which none
but everybody’s own mother can
make.
— The Indianapolis Journal says
that a pious young lady of that
city was last Sunday^ endeavoring
to impress upon her scholars the
terrible effects of the punishment
Of Nebuchadnezzar. She said that
for seven years he atie grass just
like a cow- Just then a small boy
asked:—
“Did he give milk ?”
We are not informed as to the
teacher’s reply.
The Fatal Glass.
“Cousin Walter, won't you drink
my health ?” and Fanny Lacy turn
ed from the merry group, and held
the tempting glass of wine almost
to his lips. Now, Walter Frazier
was a man of strong impetuous na
ture, and had inherited with it a
fondness for dissipation. He led a
wild, wreckless life, and had been
regarded by many as a hopeless
case; but he had astonished his
friends, all at once, by his abrnpt
discontinnanc of his old habits, and
a steady application to his business.
Yet no one knew what a struggle it
cost him to do so. No one knows
the mental agony he endured in
trying to cast off the temptation
which constantly hannted him, and
sought to cast him down from the
position he had reached. It was,
with him, a continual effort; for in
the society in which he moved, not
a day passed that he did not expe
rience a temptation to abandon his
resolution, and indulge “juet once”
in the dangerous pleasure. His
friends were by no means so strict
in their habits, and they frequently
urged him to take a glass, and he
scarcely attended an entertainment
that he was not offered wine ; all
these offers were quietly refused ;
but sometimes lie felt that the effort
would snap bis heart strings.
He made the struggle bravely
through. He firmly resolved never
again, to taste intoxicating liquors;
for he knew himself well enough to
be assured that his first glass would
lead to another, and his old thirst
once aroused, he oould not toll
where it would end. But how
could he refuse his little cousin Fan
ny, the only one he had loved dear
ly from childhood ? And this was
the night of her bridal; and they,
perhaps, would never meet again.
■ idhu - ‘
CouliThe refuse her last request ?
Again her voice sounded in his
ear: “Please Walter, you remem
ber it is the last, last time I shall
ever ask you.” And the bright
blue eyes looked up at him through
their dim mist of tears. The temp
tation was too great, and raising
the glittering goblet to his lips, he
drained it to the very bottom ; but
that was not all—five—six glasses
were drained, during that evening,
and when Walter Frazier left the
house that night, he knew that he
was a ruined man. The demon of
intemperance was now aroused, and
lie rushed to the nearest saloon, to
allay his burning thirst — drank
more, drank deeply, and then reeled
home, and lay all night in a drunken
stupor. Day after day the same
was repeated, night found him in
the same condition
“There is a man at the door that
won’t be sent away, Ma’am,” said
Bridget, thrusting her head into
Fanny Lacy’s, or rather Mrs. Mor
ton’s pleasant sitting-room.
“Nonsense Bridget; what is the
use of coming to me with such
stuff? Of course he will g» away
if you tell him to go.”
“But ho says he is an old, old
friend, and must see yon.”
“Well, show him in,” and Mrs.
M. threw her book down petulantly,
and awaited his coming.
“Walter Frazier 1” she exclaimed,
as a man with bloated face and
blood-shot eyes staggered into the
room.
“Yes, I am Walter Frazier. Ah !
you may well clasp your hands, you
beautiful temptress, who wrought
my woes ! But for you, I, to-day
might be a noble, upright man, fill
ing the station God created me for.
Five years ago, you tempted with a
glass of wine, and I loved you so
dearly I could not refuse, but from
that hour I was ruined. And now,
Fannie Morton, look well on the
wreck before you. Raise your hands
to heaven, and thank God tills is
your work.”
Ere she could reply, he was gone.
She threw herself down on the
floor, and lay there all night sob-
b’ng in her wretchedness; and
when morning came with its fresh
ness and light, Bridget rushed in
her room, saying: “Oh, Ma’am!
please come to the front door for a
minute.” She did so; and on the
marblo step, stiff and cold lay the
last of the once noble, generous
Walter Frazier, the victim of in
temperance.
And now, my readers, by this
true, yet simple story take warn
ing. Never offer to another, this
hateful poison, or it may, like Mrs.
Morton, embitter your Ufe forever.
—Buby Mortimore.
Antidote fob Poisons.—A plain
farmer says,—“It is now twenty
years since I loarned that sweet oil
would cure the bite of a rattlesnake,
not knowing it would cure other
kinds of poison of any kind, both
on man and beast. I think no far
mer should be withont a bottle of
it in his house. The patient must
take a spoonful of it internally, and
bathe the wound for a cure. To
cure a horse it requires eight times
as much asit does for a man. Here
let me tell of one of the most ex
treme cases of snake bites in this
neighborhood. Eleven years ago
this summer, where the case had
been thirty days standing, and the
patient had been given up by his
physicians, I heard of it, carried
the oil and gave him one spoonful,
which affected a cure. It is an ant
idote for arsenic and strychnine-.—
It will cure bloat in cattle by eating
too freely of fresh clover; it will
cure the sting of bees, spiders, or
other insects, and will cure persons
who have been poisoned by a low
Tunning vine, growing iu the mead
ows, called ivy. *
Concerning Memory.
It is a very curious fact that
there is a geneial decline in the
power of memory since the art of
printing has been so widely diffused.
A book is an artificial memory.—
You treasure up thoughts and in
cidents there, and take it down
from your shelves and refer to them
whenever yon please. In old times,
before this was possible, learned
men carried about with them in
their hands whole treaties, ency
clopaedias, dictionaries.
Themistocles had a memory so
extraordinary that he never forgot
what he had once seen or heard.—
Seneca could repeat two thousand
proper names in the order in which
they had been told him without a
mistake; and not only so, but he
could repeat two hundred verses
recited to him for the first time by
as many different persons. Thomas
Cranwell—it should have been
Cramwell—committed to memory
in three months an entire transla
tion of the Bible, as made by Eras
mus. Leibnitz was called a walk
ing dictionary. He knew all the
old Greek and Latin poets by heart,
and could recite the whole of Vir
gil, word lor word, when an old
man.
It was not lack of books, either,
that stimulated tho memory of the
last named scholar. Such instances
were by no means uncommon
among the loarned men of two or
three generations ago. Buffon
knew all bis own works ky heart.
Samuel Johnson retained with as
tonishing accuracy every thing he
had even perused, uo matter how
hastily. Byron could recite nearly
all the poems ho had ever read, to
gether with tho criticism on them?
A little before his death, fearing
that his memory was failing him,
and wished to tost it, he proceeded
to repeat a number of Latin verses
which he had not called to mind
since leaving college, and only failed
in one word.
The memory of Cuvier, the nat
uralist, was the most wonderful one
of His age. He has not only retain
ed the names of all plants, animals,
fishes, birds and reptiles, classified
under every system of natural sci
ence, but he also remembered, in
their minutest details, all the thiugs
that had been written about them,
in ail times. His knowledge in al
most every other department was
equally minute and entensive.—
Just before he died, he wrote in his
diary:—
•‘Three important works to pub
lish—materials already prepared
iu my head—it only remains to
write them down.”
For some reason or other, memo
ries of this kind are much less com
mon in our day than they were fifty
or a hundred years ago. Perhaps
we live too fast, now-a days, to get
the clear, comprehensive, accurate
knowledge of a subject which
must be the indispensable condition
of remembering it clearly and for-
rver. Or shall we flatter ourselves
with the belief that this age strikes
its roots deeper, deals with thoughts
rather than words, and so has less
need of mere verbal memory?
Memories of some kinds we all
have—it is the one thing which
makes the man himself. If it be
true that every particle of our
bodies is changed once in seven
years, memory is the surest guardi
an of personal identity. Cicero,
after long thinking abont it, con
cluded that it was the strongest
proof that the soul was immaterial
and immortal. Destroy it, and the
chief value of life would be taken
away. What would an existence
be worth that had not, could never
have, any yesterday—to which
came no tender whispers from the
morning land of youth, no words
whose very echo thrills steady-going
old age with indefinable bliss? To
forget is indeed to be annihilated.
Learn all You Can.—Never
omit any opportunity to learn all
you can. 8ir Walter Scott said,
that even in the stage coach, he al
ways found somebody who could
tell him something he did not know
before. Conversation is frequently
more useful than books for purposes
of knowledge. It is, therefore, a
mistake to be morose and silent
among persons whom we, think to
be igDorant; for a little sociability
on your part will draw them out,
and they will be able to teach yon
something, uo matter how ordinary
their employment. Indeed, some
of tho most sagacious remarks are
made by persons of this kind, re
specting their particular pnrsnit.—
Hugh Miller, the geologist, owes not
a little of his fame to observations
made when he was a jnourneyman
stone mason, and working in a
quarry. Socrates well said there
was but one good, which is knowl
edge, and one evil which is igno
rance. Every grain of sand goes
to make up the heap. A gold dig
ger takes the smallest nuggets, and
is not fool enough to throw them
away because he hopes to find a
huge lump some time.
So in acquiring knowledge we
should never despise an opportuni
ty, however unpromising. If there
is a moment’s leisure, spend it over
good or instructive talking with
the first you meet.
— A negro preacher accidentally
read a well-known verse. “My feet
are as hen’s feet,” instead of “hind’s
feet” “Yott will observe, my
bredren,” he said, “that a lien in
the hen roost, when it falls asleep,
it tightens its grip so as not to fall
off. And dat’s how true faith, my
breddreu, holds on to de rock.”
Curiosities of Breathing.
The taller men are, other things
being equal r the more lungs they
have, and the greater number of
cubic inches of air they can take in
or deliver, at a single breath. It
is generally thought that a man’s
lungs are sound and well developed
in proportion to his girth around
the chest; yet observation shows
that slim men as a rule will run
faster, and farther, with less fa
tigue, having more wind than stout
men. If two persons are, taken in
all respects alike, except that one
measures twelve inches more around
the chest than the other, the one
having the excess will not deliver
more air at one breath, by mathe
matical measurement, than the oth
er.
The more air a man receives into
his lungs in ordinary breathing,
the more healthy he is likely to be;
because an important object in
breathing is to remove impurities
from the blood. Each breath is
drawn pnro into the lungs; on its
outgoing, the 'next instant, it is so
impure, so perfectly destitute of
nourishment, that if re breathed
without an admixture of a purer
atmosphere, tho man would die.—
Hence, one of the conditions nec
essary to seoure a high state of
health is, that the room in which
we sleep should be constantly re
ceiving new supplies of fresh sir
through open doors, windows, or
fireplaces.
If person’s lungs are not well
developed,’“the health will be imper
fect, but tho development may be
increased several inches in a few
months, by daily out-door runnings
witli the month closed, beginning
with twenty yards and back, at a
time increasing ten yards every
week, until a hundred are gone
over thrice a day. A substitute
for ladies and persons in cities, is
running up stairs with the mouth
closed, which compels very deep
inspirations, in .a natural way to
the end of the journey.
As consumptive people are declin
ing each week is witness to their
inability to deliver as much air at a
single out-breathing as the week be
fore ; hence the boat way to keep
the fell disease at bay is to main
tain lung development.
It is known that in largo towns,
ten thousand feet above the level
of the sea, the deaths by consump
tion are ten times less than -in pla
ces nearly on a level with thq sea.
Twenty-five persons die of consump
tion in the city of New York, where
only Iwo die of that disease in the
city of Mexico. All know that con
sumption does not prevail in hilly
countries and in high situations.—
One reason of this is because tlicrs
is more ascending exercise, increas
ing deep breathing; besides, the
air being more rarified, larger quan
tities are taken instinctively into
the lungs to answer the requirements
of the system, thus at every, breath
keeping up a high devclopement.—
Hence, the hill should be sought by
consumptives, and not low flat situ
ations.—Halt's Health Tracts.
Be Saving.—But in saving be
not mean and stingy—bnt waste
nothing and save all yon can. Tako
care of the pence, and you will have
no trouble in looking after the
pounds. In some families there is
enough wasted to support two or
three children and a pig to boot,
and yet the members are always
poor. They don’t manage right.—
They don’t look after the bits of
bread, the scraps of cloth, the chips
of wood. Nothing should be wasted
that can possibly be cut to use.
The paper and twine that come
about your coffee and sugar, when
yon buy in small quantities should
not be thrown into the fire. They
will be of nse at some future time.
Old hats and old shoes might be
laid aside for mending, or to ex
change for something you may
need of the peddler. Crusts of
bread must not be pnt on the shelf
to mould. Peel your potatoes and
not slice them in taking of the par
ing. Don’t sweep your brooms into
the fire and suffer them to bum up.
A good broom will last a prudent
housewife a great while. It isn’t
necessary to have a fresh dinner
everyday. Warm over what was
left the day before. This is the
course to pursue if you would be
come independent. We will defy
a wasteful, careless family to be
come rich. It is impossible. We
do not advocate narrow, contracted
habits. God knows wo despise such
creatures as well as ho. They are
abhorrent to onr nature, and smell
rank to us as to Heaven. But we
would have von prudent and saving,
and make the most of everything
carried into the house. Take care
of your clothing and your food;
suffer not a crumb of bread or a po-
tatoe paring to be lost; lose not a
needleful of thread, or burn up a
scrap of cotton the weight of a
musquitoe. In well regulated fam
ilies nothing is lost. At this day
when every tiling is made use of,
how important that care should be
taken to preserve every thing. Old
shoes and dry bones can now be
turned into a penny as well as ash
es and old rags. Be economical in
all your habits, and yon will soon
be above want, yea more—you will
gradually acqure property, and if
yon live "long enough, become rich.
Swearing.—“Mother did you
ever hear sissy swear ?”
“No, my dear; whatdid she say ?”
“Why, she s:iid she wasn’t going
to wear her darned stockings to
church!”
Jersey Lightning.
BT JOSII BILLINGS.
Who it waz that invented alcho-
hol, I am unable tew tell, without
lieing, but it would have bin a fust
klass blessing, for the rest ov us,
if he and liker, had both ov them
been spilt on the ground, and never
bin sopped up since. The Devil
with all hiz genius for a ten strike
could not have rolled a ball, more
serviceable for hiz buzzincss on
earth ; one more certain tew quar
ter on the head pin, and sweep the
alley every time, ltum iz the dev
il’s stool pigeon, hiz right bower,
hiz high low, Jack, and tho game.
A grate menny, with dispeptick
morals, argy, that licker iz indis-
pensible for manufaktring and dok-
tor purposes, and also for mekani-
cal uses, and they hold that yu
kouldn’t raize a barn, that would
stand, without enny good old ja-
maka rum, and sum say, that pud
ding sas, without aDy spirits in it,
iz uo healthier than common grease
gooze. But awl ov these argys are
furnished free ov cost, by the devil
himself and enuy man who advau-
cies them, iz telling (without know
ing it perhaps) lios, that will weigh,
at a ruff estimate, at lest a pound
peace. But mi objekt in these fu
preliminus remarks, iz tew git a
good chance to tell what I know
about “Jersey lightning," one ov
alchohol’s imps, ax a man ufact ring
and mctaphysikal agent.
Jersey lightning is cider, brandy,
three hours’ old, still born, and
quicker than a flash. This juice iz
drunk raw at all sports, and makes
a premoditory and hissing noise az
it winds down the thrut, like an old
she goose sitting on eggs, or a hot
iron stuck into ice-water. Three
horns a day of this lickcr will tan
a man’s interior in six months, so
that he kan swollo a live, six-footed
krab, feet fust, and not wasto a
wink.
It don’t fat a man (cider don’t)
like whiskee duz, but puckers bim
up like fried potatoze. H a man
kan survive the fust three years of
Jersey lightning, he iz safe then for
the next 75 years to come, and
keeps lookin every day more and
more liko a three year old perpe-
pod, hotter and hotter. An old ci-
der-brandy-drinker will steam, in a
sudden shower ov rain, like a pile
of stable manure, and his breth
smell liko the bung-hole of a rum
cask, lately einpted. When Jersey
lightning iz fast born it tastes like
bileing turpentine and cayene, half
and half and will rise a blood blis
ter on a pair ov old cowhide bro-
gans in 15 minutes, and applied
eternally will kure tho rnmatism
and kill the patient, I forgot which.
The fust a man takes of tbis licker
will make him think he haz swal
lowed a gas light, and he will go
out behind the barn, and try tew
die, but kant. The eyes of old ci-
derbrandist look like deep gashes
ent into a ripe tomato, hiz nose iz
the complexshnn of a lialf-bilcd lob
ster, and the grizzle in his gullet
sticks out like an elbo in a tim lead
er. The more villainous the drink
the more inveterate are those who
drink it. I kau’t tell yer whether
cider brandee will shorten au old
sucker’s days or not, for they gen
erally outlive all the rest ov the
naburs, and die jnst as soon as the
old tavern stand changes hands, and
is opened on temperance principles.
One bottle ov sassaparilla or ginger
popp iz az fatal tew these old fellers
az a rifle ball iz tew a bed bngg.
Looking foe a Berth.—While the
boat was lying at Cincinnati, just
ready to start for Louisville, a
young man came on board leading
a blushing damsel by the hand, and
approaching the clerk:—-
“I say,” he exclaimed “me and
my wife has just got married, and
I’m looking for accommodations. ”
“Looking for a berth ?” hastily
inquired ttie clerk, passing tickets
out to another passenger.
“A birth? thunder and lighting,
no 1” gasped the young man, “we
ain’t but jnst got married! we
want a place to stay all night, you
know, and—a bed.’
— Teacber—Boy at the foot of
the class, spell “admittance.” Boy
—“A d-m-i-t-t-a n-c-e.” Teacher—
“Give the definition.” Boy—“Fif
ty ceuts, children half-price; front
scats reserved for ladies.”
Early Riches.
There are young men here who
are going to be rich; and let me
tell you—aud yon will never forget
this—that you must not be rich for
yourselves alone, bnt that you must
organize your riches so as to make
folks happy, if you want to be re
membered. Do this, and as long as
the world stands you will never be
forgotten. And if you want to
know what to do, let me tell you to
commence doing something to-mor
row. A man who is going to do
good with his money when ho shall
have got a great deal of it, makes a
bargain with the devil; and the
devil outwits him. Where men are
going to use their money so that it
will do good whon they get through
with it, the Lord is apt to get
through with them before they
think of being through with * their
money. If you want to ho benevo
lent by and by, be benevolent now.
Form the habit of being benevolent
by giving at least a little of your
meins for benevolent purposes as
you go along. It is not a bad rule
to lay down, for every man to say
to himseif: “I will spend for other
people one-tenth of tho clear income
that I receive.” It is not a mere
professional saying. I tell- you, if
you give away a portion of the prof
its of your business for the benefit
of others, it will sanctify tho rest.
It will bring a moral element into
your life. Say to yourself: “I will
give ono-teuth part of my receipts,
whether those receipts are large or
■mall; and it shall go for the good
of others, and not of myself.”—
Wherever you are, and whatever
circumstances you are in, do some
thing that shall go on benefitting
men after you are dead, if it is only
to plant a tree or a bush to beautify
a house or enhance the comfort of
travellers. Do not be contented
witli simply helping your own self.
— An Irishman writing a sketch
of his life, says he early ran away
from his father, because he discov
ered he was only his uncle!
— A young man charged with
being lazy was asked if he took it
from his father. “I think not,”
was the reply, “father’s got all the
laziness he ever had.
— On a tombstone in a church
yard in Uiser is the following epi
taph : ‘Erected to the memory of
John Phillips, accidentally shot as
a mark of affection by his brother.’
— Courting is an irregular active
trasitive verb, indicative mood,
present tense, third person, singular
number, and agrees with all the
girls—don’t it?
Essay on Tobacco, by a Small
Boy.—Tobacco grows something
like cabbages; but I never saw
none of it boiled, altogether I have
eaten cabbage and vinegar on it,
and I have heard men say that
cigars that was given to them
on election days for nothing
was cabbage leaves. Tobacco
stores are mostly kept by wooden
Injuns, who stand at tho door and
try to fool little hoys by offering
them a bunch of cigars which is
glued into Injun’s hands and is
made of wood also. Hogs do not
like tobacco; neither do I. Tobac
co was invented by a man name
Walter Raleigh. When the peo
ple first saw him smoking they
thought he was a steamboat, and as
they had never seen a steamboat,
they were frightened. My sister
Nancy is a girl. I don’t know
whether she likes tobacco or mjt.—
There is a young man by the name
of Leroy who comes to see her. I
guess she likes Leroy. He was
standing on the steps one night, and
he had a cigar in his mouth, and he
said he didn’t know as she would
like it, and she said, “Lcory, the
perfume is agreeable.” But next
morning, when my big brother Tom
lighted his pipe, Nancy said, “Get
out of the house, you horrid crea
ture, the smell of tobacco makes me
sick.” Snuff is Injun meal made
out of tobacco, I took a little snuff
once, and then I sneezed.
Religious Oxen.—A gentleman
traveling in Texas met on the road
a wagon drawn by four oxen, driv
en by a countryman, who in addi
tion to the skillful flourish ami
crack of his whip, was vociferously
encouraging his horned horses af
ter this fashion : “Haw Presbyteri
an !” “Gee, Baptist!” “Whoa, Epis
copalian 1” “Get up, Methodist 1”
The traveler stopped the driver,
remarking that he had strange
names for his oxgd, and that he
would like to know why he thus
called them. Said the driver, “I
call this ox Presbyterian, because
he is true bine; but if the yoke
gets a little too tight he kicks aud
tries to draw clear of the traces. I
call this Baptist, because lie is al
ways after water, and seems as
though he'd ne»er drink enough;
then again he won’t eat with the
others, I oall this ox Episcopalian
because he has a mighty way of
keeping np the good looks of my
team by holding up his head and
appearing dignified. I call this ox
Methodist, because ho pnffs and
Wows, and bellows, as he goes along,
and you’d think he was pulling ail
creation, but he don’t pull a pound
unless you continually stir him up.”
The Charms of Life.—-There
are a thousand things in this wide
world to afflict and sadden, bnt,
oh ! how many that are beautiful
and good ! The world teems with
beauty—with objects that gladden
the eye and warm the heart. We
might be happy if we would.—
There are ills that we cannot es
cape—tho approach of disease and
death ; of misfortune ; the sunder
ing of early ties, and the canker
worm of grief; but a vast majority
of evils that beset us might be
avoided. The curse of intemper
ance, interwoven as it is with all
the ligaments of society, is one
which never strikes us but to des
troy. There is not one bright pago
upon the record of its progress;
nothing to shield it from the hear
tiest execration of the human race.
It should not exist; it must not.—
Do away with all this; let wars
come to an end ; and let friendship,
love, truth, charity and kindness,
mark the intercourse between man
and man. We are too selfish, as if
the world was made for ns alone.
Ilow much happier would we be
were we to labor more earnestly to
promote each other’s good ! God
has blessed ns with a home that is
not all dark. Thero is sunshine
everywhere—in the sky, npon the
earth—there would be in most
hearts if we would look around us.
The storm die away, and a bright
snn shines out. Good reigns in
heaven. Mnrmur hot at a Being
so bountiful, and we can live hap
pier than wc do.
— A woman should never, under
any circumstances whatever, lose
her temper. “Might as well tell a
March wind not to Mow on a March
day, or the rain not to come down
in April. It does them good to
“explode” occasionally. A woman,
to be good for anything, ninst have
as much spice and sparkle in her as
a bottle of champagne, and it the
cork comes out, once in a while,
with a bang, why that don’t dc-pre
ciate the value of the goods.
-— When a man and woman are
made one by a clergyman the ques
tion is, which is the one. Some
times there is a long straggle be
tween them before this matter is
finally settled.
— Somebody says that females
go to meeting to look at each oth
er’s bonnets. That’s downright
scandal! They go to show their
— “I say, Arthnr, I wish you'd
go and kiss my sister ! There she
is.”
“All right—what for ?”
“Why, because, then, I could kiss
yours.”
— An Irishman being in church
where the collection apparatus res
scmbled election boxes, on its being
handed to him, whispered to the
clerk that he was not neutralized *
aud could not vote.
— A lady took her littlo boy to
ohurch for tho first time. Upon
hearing the organ he was on his feet
instant or.
“Sit down,” said the mother.
“I won’t,” he shouted, “I want to
see the monkey.”
— A youth was lamenting to his
father the ordeal of popping the
question. “Pooh !” said the patri-
ach, “how do you suppose I man
aged?” “You needn’t talk,” res
ponded the young hopeful; “you
married mother, and I’ve got to
marry a strange girl.”
— “Ah,” said a conceited young
person, “I have this forenoon been
preaching to a congregation of
asses.”
“Then that was the reason yon
called them beloved brethren,” re
plied a strong-minded lady.
— One’s happiness depend great
ly upon the feeling of the heart.—
If sunshine is there, it will radiate
out and make every thing in the ex
ternal world beautiful, or, at least,
it will give the surrounding objects
a bright side that they may bo con
templated with pleasure.
— “William, thee knows I never
call anybody names ; but, William,
if the Mayor of the city were to
come to me, and say ‘Joshua, I
want thee to find me the biggest
liar in all Baltimore,’ I would come
to thee and put iny hand on thy
shoulder, and say to thee, ‘William,
the Mayor wants to see thee.’”
—In a religious excitement in a
conntry town, a person met a neigh
bor, who took him by the hand, and
said:
“I have become a Christian."
“I am glad of it,” was the reply,
“for I suppose we shall now have a
settlement of that littlo account be
tween us. Pay me what thou
owest.”
“No,” said the now-bom Chris
tian, turning on his heel, “religion
is religion, and business is business.”
— Hero we have a few moro
chunks of wisdom from that old jo
ker, Josh Billings.
When a man loses his health,
then ho fust begins tu take care of
it. This is good judgment, thisiz!
Most people decline tew learn on
ly by their own experience. I guess
they are moar than one haf rite, for
I don’t serpose a man can get a per
fect idee of molasses kandy by let
ting another feller taste it 4 him.
it iz gittin so now a-daze if a
man kan’t cheat in sum way he ain’t
happy.
Success in life iz verry apt tew
make us forget the time when we
wasn’t much. Itizjistso with a
frog on the jump; he kan’t remem.
her when ho was a tad-pole—but
other folks kan.
An individual to be a fine gentle
man has either got to be bom so,
or brought up so from infancy; he
kan’t learn it suddenly any moar
than he kan learn how to tork In
jun correctly praktising on a tom-
rnyhawk.
I serpose Adorn iz the only man
who ever lived and wasn’t never
spanked.
I have often set down square on
the iso, by having my feet git out
of place, but I never eood see enny
thing in it to laugh at (espeshila if
thar waz sum water on the ise,) but
I notiss other folks kan.
Shortening tiie Hours of
Study.—The Akron, Ohio, Board
of Education, in their annual re
port, just published, state that
school hours there have been re-»
dueed—thoso of the primary de
partment to tw'O sessions of two
hours each, divided by a recess,
and those in the other schools to
two sessions of two and a half in
stead of three hours each, as here
tofore. The Board says: “Full-
grown and robust adults who meas
ure a child’s power of brain and
muscle by their own tongh tissues,
may feel distressed at this seeming
waste of time by the little folks;
but it is alike the teaching of obser
vation and physiology that in many
eases irretrievable mischief to both
tbe mind and body of the child
comes from too long fOutinqed re
straint aud brain work iu the school
room.