Newspaper Page Text
HUE * SfJWJ, Mi tits.:
VOL. 111.
THE HERALD.
fCEUSUBD WLrr§T AT
’&REENSBORO’, GA.
-V , K 8* . .
Ot» cefj f»r ngio, - * • • - I* 50
Advertising’ Kales.
One square, flr*t insertion $ 1 00
Hath subsequent insertion.,,,..-. 60
One tquare three months 6 00
One sqttare six months 10 00
Ore square twelve month* 15 Ot)
Two squirts three months JO 00
Two squares six months 15 00
Two squires twelve montfe* 55 00
Quarter column twelve month*....•• 4u oi#<
Malf column twelve months 60 00
oae column twelve months 100 00
(Ten lines or less cansMere.l a squar?] (
Advertisements n> t spec tie tl as to tUu>>.
will be puhlWu-U until ordered out. md
i har(jrd accordingly. All atWwnsufcemfc
i‘insldered due fr om toe firs. i;:a—, t‘un aud
collectable accordingly .
Very liberal tetms will be offered those
w'jft advertise extensively.
PPs slujl charge the same fees e% other
paper* in this Btale for Legal Advertise
then ts.
jsar*All order?, communications. ad
dressed to the editors will receive ;>ioa»pt
attention.
Orders from a distance must be accompa
nied bv the Cash or paid on receipt of the
first cop." of the paper containing the ad
t vertisemeut.
POETRY.
THK OLD FttIEAD STILL.
a * time rpcede on with his relen’lers ling.
He is bringing a change to ail;
TLe daisies peep from the lap o( spring,
And oak leaves fade and fall.
The new grows old, aud the old departs.
And the year? their cycles HU.
The friend that is new may be kind aud true
But give me the old friend still.
tu friend that l ioved whan the spring was j
born,
That was true wtirr, summer died.
T hat was still unchanged through t”J ‘bo
and flow
Os ruy i;ie £■ anstah.e tide
TV' flowt tli 1 1 blooms in the sou’s warm
ray f H
May fade vhen the night is chill,
Tlie friend that is new may be kind an i true,
But give me the old friend still,
Ah 1 give me a clasp of the same warm
baud
That I felt in the days of yore;
And give me the heart that time has proved
Is true to the inmost core.
I or time speeds 00, an<l the frieDdsarc fev
’Thom the void in the heart can fill
1 he frieud that is new may be kind aud true
but give ise the old frf'u.d still.
Partins’ li't rrievr with
Emmett.
The evening before his death,
while the workmen were busy with
the scaffold, a young lady was ush
ered into his dungeon. It was the
girl whom he so fondly loved, and
who had now come to bid him her
eternal farewell. He was leaning,
in a melancholy mood, against the
window-on her heart. The inter
view was bitterly affecting, and
melted even the callous soul of the
jailer. As for Emmett, he wept
and spoke little; but, as he pressed
his beloved in silence to his bosom,
his countenance betrayed his emo
tions. In a low voice, half-choked
by anguish, he besought her not to
forget him; ho reminded her of
their former happiness, of the long
past days of their childhood, and
concluded by requesting her some
times to visit the scenes where their
infancy was spent, and, though the
world might repeat his name with
scorn, to clinJ to his memory with
affection. At this very instant, the
everting bell pealed from the neigh
boring Church. Emmett started at
the sound 1 and as he felt that this
svas the last time he should ever
hear its dismal echoes, he folded his
beloved still closer to his heart, and
bent over her sinking form with
eyes streaming with affection. The
turnkey entered at the moment;
ashamed of his weakness, he dash
ed the rising drop from his eye, and
a frown again lowered on his coun
tenance. The man, meanwhile, ap
proached to tear the lady from his
embraces. Overcome by his feel
ings, he could make no resistance;
but, as he gloomily released her
from his hold, gave her a little min
iature of himself, and, with his
parting token of attachment, he im
printed the last kisses of a dying
man upon her lipa. On gaining the
door, she turned round, as if to
p\-rr once mere on the object of her
THE liIH.LNMiOKO nr,bum.
widowed love. He caught her eye
as she retired—it was but for a'mo
ment ; the dungeon-door swung
back upon its hings;’ and, os it
closed after her, informed him too
surely, that they had met fur the
last time on earth.
THESB ARE HIS LAST WORDS ON
TUB SCAKKOLD
If the spirit of the illustrious
dead participate in the concerns and
cares of those who were dear to
them in this transitory life—Oh !
ever dear and venerated shade of
my departed father, look down with
scrutiny upon the conduct of your
suffering son, and see if I have
even for a moment deviated from
those principles of morality and pa
triotism which it was your care to
instill into my youthful mind, and
for which I am now’ to offer up my
life. lords, you seem impa
tient for the sacrifice; the blood for
which you thirst is not congealed
by the artificial terrors which sur
round your victim: it circulates
w armly and unruffled through the
channels which God created for no
bler purposes, but which you are
bent to destroy for purposes so
grievous, that they cry to Heaven,
lie ye patient! I have but a few
words more to say.’ I am going to
my cold and silent grave ; my lamp
of life is nearly extinguished; my
race is run; the grave opens to re
ceive me, and I sink into its bosom.
I have but one request to ask at my
departure from this world—it is the
charity of its silene. Let no man
write my epitaph, for as no man
who knows my motives dares now
vindicate them, let not prejudice or
ignorance asperse them. Let them
and me repose in obscurity, and my
tomb remain uninscribed, until oth
er times and other men can do jus
tice to my character. When my
country takes her place among the
nations of the earth, then, and not
till then, jet my epitaph be written,
i have done ’ -
The following lines were compos
ed, by the lady, and dedicated to
the memory of the martyr of liber
tv:
On cold is the grave where he tilently
slumbers.
Where naught but the wild-bird his re*
quiem sings;
There sad let the miastrel-boy breathe the
wild cumbers
Os grief o’er the plaintive harp’s sorrow
ing strings.
Calm, calm is his sleep, and unsullied hi?
glory.
In the shade of the l&nrels his martyrdom
won.
And long let his name be emblaeon’d in
story-
Grecn Isle of the ocean ! thy patriot son.
Oh, sweet be his rest, while in sorrow we
wail nim,
At«d mouru o'er bis fa‘e in oar tremulous
songs!
Green Erin* oh, soft let thy bards proudly
hail him
As the hero who bled for thy desolate
wrongs,
Twine, twine the sad harp with cypress and
willow.
That shade, with their foliage, his mould
ering urn.
Bedewed with the tear-drops that bathe his
cold pillow,
Where sleep th# lone relies of him whom
we mourn.
With nangbt bat the verdure that decks his
cold bosom
And springs thr. ngh the damp sod that
covers his breast.
Or the fragrant perfume of the wild heath
er blos-om
la the blaze of his glury, oh, there let
him rest!
Bn* bis spirit has fled to a happier heaven—
Where the bright shades of heroes meet
never to part:
O write not his epitaph—let it be graven,
By Gratitude deep on each patriot heart
Sweet harp of my country/ let thy sorrow*
ing numbers’
Breathe o'er the cold grave of him whom
we weep,
Ar.d hallow with music the spot where be
slumbers,
And wake the wild anthem of grief o’er
his sleep:
Then calm be his rest —let him Bell in his
g- or y.
In the shade ot the laurels bis martyrdom
won: .
Ob/ long shall his name be recorded in
story, , ...
Green Island of song, as thy patriot son
A poor fellow rescued, half drown
ed, from a river, was asked take
some spirits and water. ‘‘No, I
thank you,” replied he, “I have had
water enough already; I’ll take
♦ho wiiita alone ” 1
GREENSBORO’, GA., JUNE 4, 18(58.
A Romance of Real Isife
The following story is told con
cerning a party now residing near
Rochester, New York:
The narrative which I am about to
narrate is peculiarly interesting.—
Although it may seem fictitious, it
is nevertheless true, as I can vouch
being acquainted with the parties
concerned and the facts of the case.
About the Spring of the year,
1850, a Mr. Garnett, living near
Auburn, New York, was arrested
for forgery. He was tried, found
guilty, and sentenced to three years
in the State Prison at Auburn. He
denied his guilt to the end. and be
ing a man of very sensitive feel
ings, and having a wife and family,
it bore quite heavily upon him. He
served his time and was released, a
mere wreck of his former self, de
spised by his once loving wife, who
refused to live with him, shunned
him as a guilty culprit. Sad and
broken-hearted, he disposed of his
property and went to Central Penn
sylvania where he married a beau
tiful and excellent young lady.
They lived happily and prospered.
Several years after his departure,
the first wife became fully convinc
ed that he was innocent and had
been wronged. This conviction
proved true by the death-bed con
fession of a man who acknowledged
the commission of the crime of
which Mr. Garnett had been con
victed. , The sorrowing woman re
pented her former act, and with a
friend went in pursuit of her dis
carded husband, whom sho seemed
to expect to find somewhere in
Pennsylvania.
After a search of several weeks,
they at length arrived in the neigh
borhood of the object of their
search. Just at dark they drove
up to the door of a snug and pleas
ant little cottage, when Mrs. Gar
nett entered the house, and there
beheld her ones beloved husband
apparently bappy in the society of
his second wife. She rushed up to
him, and throwing her arms about
his Reck, wept bitterly. Soon the
scene became affecting, the two
wives clinging to him, each claim
ing as her husband.
After claiming their feelings,
and Candidly considering the case,
the second wife decided to give up
the husband, believing that the first
had the lawful claim. After a few
days Mr. Garnett and his wife re
moved to the vicinity of Rochester,
N. Y., where they now reside.—
The second wife makes them an an
nual visit, and Mr. Garnett keeps
them supplied with the necessities
of life.
A Beautiful Sentiment.
Clasp the hands meekly over the
still breast—they’ve no more work
to do ; close the weary eyes—they
have no more tears to shed; part
the damp locks—ther’s no more
pain to bear. Closed to the ear
alike to love's kind voice and calum
ny’s stinging whispers.
O, if in that still heart you have
ruthlessly planted a thorn; if from
that pleading eye you have care
lessly turned away; if your loving
glance and kindly word and clasp
ing hand have come—all too late—
then God forgive you ! No frown
gathers on the marble brow as you
gaze—no scorn curls the childish
lip—no flush of wounded feelings
mounts to the blue-veined temples.
God forgive you 1 for your feet,
too, must shrink appalled from
death’s cold river—your flattering
tongue asks, “can this be death ?
Your fading eye lingers lovingly on
the sunny earth. Your clammy
hand yield their last feeble flutter.
O, rapacious grave 1 yet another
victim for thy voiceless sleepers.—
No warm welcome from a sister’s
loving lips 1 No throb of pleasure
from the maternal bosom.
Silent all!
0, if these broken, limbs were
never gathered up-if beyond death’s
swelling flood there were no eternal
shore—for the struggling bark there
were no port of peace—if athwart
that lowering cloud sprang no
bright bow of promise—
“ Alas for love if this be all.
And nought beyond—on earth 1”
Our devil says the nigger conven
tion aint much at making constitu
tions, but the way it uses up greon
bax beats him—that is beats the
d—!
“YINCIJT AMOR FATRIJS,”
Republican Platform. •
The*National Republican party
of the United States, assembled in
National Convention, in the city of
Chicago, on the 20th day of May,
1868, make the following Declara
tion of Principles:
Ist. We congratulate the coun
try on the assured success of the
i reconstruction policy of Congress,
as evinced by the adoption, in a
majority of the States lately in re
bellion, of Constitutions securing
equal civil and political rights to
all, and regard it as the dutv of the
Govcrment to sustain those institu
tions, and to prevent the people of
such States from being remitted to
a state of anarchy.
2d. The guarantee, by OWigrewi,
of equal suffrage to all loyal men in
the South was demanded by < very
consideration of public safety, of
gratitude and of justice, and must
be maintained, while the question of
suffrage in all the loyal Stater pro
perly belongs to the people of' those
States.
3d. We denounce all forms of re
pudiation as a national erina, and
the national honor requires the pay
ment of the public indebtedne~ ; “. in
the utmost good faith, to all ' credi
tors, at home and abroad, not only
according to the letter, bfi-‘ the
spirit of the laws under which it
was contracted.
4th. It is due to the labor of the
nation that taxation should be
equalized and reduced as rapidly as
the national faith will permit.
sth. The national debt, con ract
od, as it has been, for the preserva
tion of the Union for all tit ie, to
come, should be extended Q or n
fair period for redemption, an t it is
the duty of Congress to reduce the
rate of interest thereon, whenever it
can honestly be done. Hr
6th. That the best policy to di-
minish our burden of aebt is to*..so
-~ U ~ t Ll, t\-V /’ i... :
wifi seek to loan us money at lower
rates of interest than we now pay,
and must continue to pay, so long
as repudiation, partial or total,
open or covert, is threatened or sus
pected.
7th. The Government of the
United States should be administer
ed with'the strictest oconmy, and the
corruptions which have been so
shamefully nursed and fostered by :
Andrew Johnson call loudly for
radical reform.
Bth. We profoundly deplore the
untimely and tragic death of Abra
ham Lincoln and regret the acces
sion of Andrew Johnson to tho
Presidency, who has acted treach
erously to the people who elected
him and the cause he was pledged
to support; has usurped high legis
lative and judicial functions; has
refused to execute the laws; lias
used his high office to induce other
officers to ignore and violate the
laws; has employed his executive
powers to render insecure the prop
erty, peace, liberty and life of
citizens ; has abused the pardoning
power; has denounced the Nation
al Legislature as unconstitutional,
has persistently and corruptly re
sisted, by every measure in his pow
er, every proper attempt at the re
construction of the States lately in
rebellion : has perverted the public
patronage into an engine of whole
sale corruption ; and has been justly
impeached for high crimes and mis
demeanors, and properly pronounc
ed guilty thereof by the vote of
thirty-five Senators.
9th. The doctrine of Great Bri
tian and other European powers,
that because a man is once a subject
he is always so, must be resisted at
every hazard by the United States,
as a relic of the feudal time, not
authorized by the law of nations,
and at war with our national honor
and independence. Naturalized cit
izens are entitled t,o be protected in
all their rights of citizenship as
though they were natural bom, and
no citizen of the United States, na
tive or naturalized, must be liable
to arrest and imprisonment, by any
foreign powor, for acts done, or
words spoken, in this country, and
if so arrested and imprisoned, it is
the duty Goverment to interfere in
his behalf.
lOth. Os all who were faithful in
the trials of the late war, there
were none entitled to more especial
honor than the brave soldiers and
seaman, who endured the hardships
of tic eamoairm and cruise, <*iid In?.
perilled their lives in the service of
the Country. The bounties and pen
sions provided by law for these
brave defenders of the nation are
obligations never to bo forgot* on.—
The widows and orphans of the gal
lant dead are the wards of the peo
ple, a sacred legacy bequeathed to
the nation’s protecting care.
11th. Foreign immigration which
in the past has added so much to
the wealth, dcvelopemcnt of resour
ces, and increase of power of this
nation, the assylum of the oppress
ed of ull nations, should bo fostered
and encouraged by a liberal and just
policy. ■ ...
12t.h. This Cobvention declares
; its sympathy with all tlio oppressed
people which are struggling for
their rights.
That l)aw Roaring.
A young man Went to see the
I daughter of a Presbyterian cider
[ lato!y ? whose house was near a mill
dam. It. being the spring of the
year, 1 iio waters made a considera
ble roar as they tumbled over the
i dam. The modest young gentle
man tapped lightly at the door and
received no answer. Again and
again he repeated his knock; but
still he was unheard. Mustering
up courago, he proefiedod to inflict
some severe thumps on the door,
which brought the staid old gentle
man out.
“I suppose,” said the youngster,
who • had become slightly savage,
from being compelled to wait so
long; “I suppose you could not
hear me on account of the dam
roaring.”
Hi “The dam roaring! What do
you mean, sir? How dare you
speak in that way ?” said the di
vine, somewhat angefed by hearing
| the young man swear in his pre
! so nee.
“I mean to say that I suppose
.Xu.u_could not hoar my knocking on
'account of tlxCda in roaring.
“Dam roaring again! Y'ou
j young scoundrel! have you the ira
pudence to insult me with a repe
tition of those words ? Begone,
sir!”
“My dear sir,” quoth the now
bewildered youth, “I intended to
say that I presumed I could not be
heard on account of the dam roar- I
ing.” laying particular emphasis
on the last words.
“Insult on insult 1” shouted the
infuriated old man, and rushed at
the poor fellow, with the evident in
tention of ejecting him; but his
daughter exclaimed:
“Papa, I suppose the young man
intended to say that you could not
hear him on account of the roaring
of the dam.”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir—l
beg your pardon 1 Walk in, walk
in! Really—ah—well, I declare!
The dam roaring ! Capital! Come
in. That is too rich 1”
It is needless to add that the
youngster went in, and, in the ex
cellent society of the young lady,
soon forgot the “dam roaring.”
A Bluckv Owl.— Recently Mr.
Upton, of Whittingham, Vermont,
1 was aroused from his slumbers at
night by a disturbance among the
fowls in his woodshed. Getting up
and lighting a lamp, he went out
and found a mammoth owl in the
act of killing one of his hens. Ho
pitched into the owl and the owl
pitched into him, and for a little
while there was a hand to hand fight.
After several rounds between clubs
and claws, Upton failed to come to
time, having been badly punished.
Retreating into the house he called
upon some half dozen of his boys, |
and—after securing doors, windows, I
etc., to cut off the retreat of the!
enemy the contest Avas renewed.)
The colored troops fought bravely
and so did these boys, after a short
fight with brickbats, billets of wood,
clubs, and the like, the owl was laid
at their feet. It was an “old brui
ser,” measuring over five feet from
tip to tip of its wings.
A minister, traveling through
the provinces some years ago, asked j
the oil lady on whom he called, j
what she thought of the doctrine of
total depravity? “Oh ! I think it
a good doctrine if people would live
up to it.”
An editor calis marriages “feats
of the ring.” Another styles them]
LBiwrsiiy ofDeerglm.
The following extract from the
recently ptdished Catalogue of this
institution is of general interest.
“The Trustees having authoaized
tho Faculty to admit, without pay
ment of tuition fees, rnoritorions
i young men of limited means, they
propose to increase tho number of
beneficiaries tv fifty. There ore
mow, us such, in attendance at the
University under the appointment
of the Faculty, twenty-seven siu
denfs. These appointments are in
tended to he limited to residents
of the State who are not them
selves, and whose parents are not,
in a situation to incur the expense
| of their education at the Universi
ty, without aid
‘Students thas appointed stand,
in all ref poets excep* expense, as
oi!>e:s, enjoying equal privileges,
and subject to the same law*. As
a retnut.’craiion to the State, they
will be expected to engage in
teachieg in a public or private
school in Georgia for ti term of
year* equal to the time they tnay
have enjoyed tnc advantages of in
struction at the University. The
term of the appointment expire*
at the close of flic Col egiato year
with those who fail to exhibit due
diligence, but those who give evi
deuce of capacity and industry,
| will be permitted lit remain until
the regular course is completed.
The applicant for appointment!
should forward te.-tim >niais of
good moral character, and of ca- •
paoity to profit by the iiisrucuou J
at the University; stating his agr 1
(which trust Le at least sixteen.) j
and hi* residence,’with a full re- 1
port of the subjects that have been !
studied by him. It mwt • Iso b® j
shown that neither ho nor his pa- i
reutsare able, without aid, to in
cur the expense of his education-,
“Next session there will be twen
ty-five vacancies, which the FaeuU
tv will fill by appointment on the
' ‘V’-. «( . Aanu*t. . Oul.c cmu.saiiL.La
appointed from a county. There
are no vacancies in the following
countiesr Bartow, Bibb, Cass, Ca
i toosn, Clarke. Cobh, Columbia,
Jhilton, Greene, Hart, Jackson,
Morgan, Oglethorpe. Pike, Spald
. ing, Terrel and Wilkes.
“Applications should beaddress
j ed to the Corresponding .Secretary,
1 and forwarded prior to August 6iii
“Young men who design to en
ter the msnistry ot any denomina
tion whatsoever, are admitted to
the privileges of the University |
without th’ payment of tuition!
fees, upon presenting proper letters !
from the authorities of the Church j
to which they are attached, j.rovi- ;
ded they are in need of this aid to i
complete their education.” |
Hellcring;, but not Under
standing.
“I will not believe anything, but
what I understand,” said a self
conceited young man in a hotel, one
day.
“Nor will I,” said another.
“Neither will I,” chimed in a
third.
“Gentlemen,” said one well known
to me, who was on a journey, aud
who sat close by, “do I understand
you correctly, that you will not be
lieve anything that you don t un
derstand ?’
“I will not,” said one, and so said
each one of the trio.
“Well,” said the stranger, “in
my ride this morning, I saw some
geese in a field eating grass; do
you believe that ?”
“Certainly,” said the three unbe
lievers.
“I also saAv the pigs eating grass,
do you believe that ? ’
“Os course,” said the three.
“And I also saw sheep and coats
eating grass; do you believe that ?’
“Os course,” was again replied ?
“Well but the grass which they
had formerly eaten had, by diges
tion, turned to feathers on the backs
of the geese, to bristles on the backs
of the swine, to wool on the sheep,
and on the cows it had turned to
hair; do you believe that gentle
men ?”
“Certainly.” they replied.
“Yes, you believe it.” he rejoin"
ed_ "but do you understand it?”
They were eoufounded and silent
and epidenily ashamed, as they
well might be.
“We re in a pickle now,” said a
man in a crowd. “A regular jam,”
said another. “Heaven preserve
US ovi
1 1. B. MEGAN, Prim.
NO. 7.
| The Three Ben’s with an
I F,
Three of the most prominent and
illustrious lights in the Radical par
ty write their Christ&in name Benja
min F., viz:
Benamin F. Butler, chief mana
ger in the impeachment plot. He
: stole spoons and bullied women in
| New Orleans.
Bejumin F. Rice, carpet-bag
j Senator from Arkansas. He stole
$5,000 of a client’s money in Ken
i lucky, gambled it off and run away
1 in the night.
Benjamin F. Wade, President of
j the Senate, and Professor of cursing
; anu swearing. He voted to make
himself President of the United
States.
What a lovely trio of Bens to be
sure. Poor Bonjamin Fraklin 1 It’s
lucky for him that he did not live
to see hia name so' disgraced.—
Louisville Courier.
To Make Cows Give Milk -A
writer who says his cow gives all
tho milk that is wanted in a family
of eight persons, and from which
waa made two hundred and sixty
pounds of butter the year, gives tho
following a? his treatment. It is
cheap and worth a trial:
If you desire to get a large yield
of rich milk give your cows three
times a day, wotor slightly salted, in
which bran has been stirred at tho
rate of one quart to two gallons of
water. Y’ou will find, if yea have
not tried this daily practice, that
your cow will give twenty-five per
cent more milk immediately under
the effect of it, and she will become
; so attached to the diet as to refuse
! to drink clear water unless very
; thirsty, but this mess she will al
most any time and ask for more.—
The amount of this drink necessary
is an ordinary water pail full each
timo, morning, noon and night.—
Y r our animal will then do her best
■*-wt >lts3CUHTillg teevtf*. ■
'hundred pounds of butter are often
i obtained from good stock, and in
| stances arc mentioned where tho
yield was even at a higher figure.
| A “Wh\t is it” with a Carpet
j Bag.*—The Southern delegation in
the Chicago Convontion were not, it
; seems, composed entirely of carpet
! baggers, niggers and “Sorghum
Jo.” There was one nondescript
delegate whose physique puzzled his
friends sothafc they cannot decide
whether he i3 a nigger, a Mexican
or an Arab. The Chicago Repub
lican make3 the following mention
of the Texas delegation :
Among the Texas delegation is
one gentleman who attracted gener
al attention among the by-standers,
both from his color and his singular
physique. Some declared him to be a
Creole, others swore he was a Mex
ican, while among all, the point was
conceded that he was dark.
: Beau Tin; j..— “ When the sura
• mer day of youth is slowly wasting
;away into the night-fan of age anti
j the shadows of the past years grow
i deeper and deeper as life wears to
j a close, it is pleasant to look back
i through tho vista of time upon the
joys and sorrows of early years.—
If we have a home to shelter or
hearts to rejoice with us and friends
who have been gathering around
! our fireside, then the rough place of
our wayfaring will be worn and
smoothed away in the twilight of
life whilst the.bright sunny spots
we have passed through will grow
brighter and more beautiful. Hap
py indeed are those whose inter
course with the world has not chang
ed the course of their holier feeling
or broken those musical chords o:
the heart whose vibrations are so
melodious so tender and so touch
ing, in the evening of age.”
The American Hot House—Con
gress.
New name for a tight boot—-a
corn crib.
Things generally observed—Tilt
ing hoops, water-falls and other peo
ple’s business.
“Grandpa, did you know that the
United States have been in the hab
it of encouraging and acknowleding
tories?” “Certainly not; what
kind of tories!” Territories.—
Now give me some peanuts, or I’ll
catch the measles and make von p ?r
t fH r W ”