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VOL. 1.5 RATES OF LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS Sheriff's Pale*, (30 days) per levy $2 50 “ . days) per levy 00 Tax Collector*’- Sales- (30 days) per levy 2 50 Administrators, Executors or Guar dian Sale?, (40 days) per square—lo lines Nonpanel.,,. 5 00 Notice to Debtof* Vnd Creditors (80 dajg) .. 5 00 (.cave to st-H Heal Estate (83days)... 5 00 C Utton-Letter* of Administration (St day* ... ,- 3 00 “ “ of Guardianship (SO days) -3 00 Letters Dismission of Administration (90 days) 5 00 “ “ Guardianship (80 days - 6 00 Estray Notlees—Cattle (1 insertion)... 5 00 “ .•* Horse or Mnle(6o days) 600 Exemption of Homestead oh Personali ty (S w’ks 2 00 Divorce Notioes(lan)4m) 5 00 Ten lines solid Nonpariel, or its equiva lent in space constitute* a square. All legal advertisements enumerated above will be charged *5 00 per square for i insertions. RATES OF AD VE RTI SING . One Square, first insertion $1 00 Io each subsequent insertion. 50 One Square, six months 0 00 One Square, twelve months 12 00 Liberal deduction will be made for cen tract advertisements. Enough to pay for composition will be charged for change of advertisements, JSS~ AH articles published for the benefit o parties or individuals, at their cwn solicitation will be charged for as advertisements. RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION i Due copy of the paper one year $ 2 00 Three copiesof the paper one year, 5 00 five copies of the paper one year, 8 00 Ten copies of the paper one year 15 00 Invariably in Advance. Communications solicited from all sec tione, but in no instance will they be inserted vi .hout the name of the writer accompany tbim. MR WM A. MAVIS, an experi enced hand in tho printing; business, is now an attache of this Office, and tries to render every satisfaction. Address all communications to O. A. CANTRELL. THEKE IS NO DEATH. BY LORD LYTKIN. There is no dealh ! The stars go down To rise upon some fairer shore, And bright in heaven’s jeweled crown They shine forevermore. There is no death! The dust we tread Shall beneath the summer showers To golden grain or mellowed fruit, Of rainbow tinted flowers, The granite rocks disorganize, And feel the hungry moss they bear ; The forest trees drink daily life From out the viewless air There is no death 1 The leaves may fall, And flowers may fade and pass away; They only wait through wintery hours The coming ot May day. There is no death 1 An angel form Walks o’er the earth with silent tread; And bear our best loved things away. And then we call them “drad.' 1 lie leaves our hearts all desolate, He pluoks, oor fairest, sweetest flowers; Transplanted into bliss, they now Adorn immortal bowers. The bird-like voice, whose joyous tones Make glad these scenes of sin and strife Now sings an everlasting song Around the tree of life. Where’er he sees a smile too bright, Or heart too pure lor taint and vice, He bears it to the world of light, To dwell in paradise. Horn unto that undying life, They leave us, but come again ; With joy we welcome them the same, Except their sin and pain. And ever near us, though unseen, The dear immortal spirits tread ; For all the boundless universe Is life—THERE ARE NO DEAD 1 . Dr. Franklin’s Offer.— Dr. Frcnklin made the following offer to a young man : “Make,” said he, "a full esti mate of all you owe, and of all that is owing you. Reduce the same to a note.° As fast as you can collect, pay over to those you owe ; if you cannot pollect, renew your note ev ry year and get the best security you can. Go to business diligently ; he very econo, mical in all things ; discard all pikte be industrious, waste no idle moments; be faithful in your duty to God, by reg ular and hearty prayer, morning and evening ; attend to church and meet ing regularly every Sunday ; and do onto all men as you would they should do unto you. If yon are too needy m circumstances to give to the poor, do whatever else may be in your power for them cheerfully, but if you can, al ways help the worthy poor and unfor tunate. Pursue this course diligently and sincerely for seven years, and if you ore not happy, comfortable and independent in your circumstances, come to me and I will pay your debts.” THE PALMETTO SHIELD. [Written for the Shtki.d. HE MATURELY HIED. - P*M*STTO, Ga., FeinylSlli., 1533. 1 Mr. JsdilQT.:?-H.*!'y years ago, when l was a young man, I 1 ft my home on the sea coast of Georgia, for a tpnr through the sparsely settlements .of lower Alabama After spending' several wefcks rambling through the Unbroken futests of that beautiful cooutry, I found myself, one bright September morning, fn a little village, of eighty or one hundred inhabitants— at that time, the Centre of fashion and refinement of the surrounding country. Here I made the acquaintance of a young lawyer, who had just entered the legal profession, aDd who had 10. cated in that village but a shot time previous to my visit. He was a genial companion, an upright, whole-souled gentleman, I had been in the village but a few days, when at a very early hour one morning, news was brought into town, that “Uncle Job Whaley” had been found dead, lying upon the road leading from the village to his home. The news soon spread to the remotest part of town, and the town folks, regard less of sick, age i r condition, were, in an evitable space of time, gathered in a group to hear the news from the very lips of the mm , who had found the mortal remains of “Uncle Job”— In Hie excitement of the moment no one seemed lo know wlmt to do, or where to begin. Finally an old gen tleman suggested that the young law yer be consulted, which motion pre vailed—and in answer to the interoga lories o! about twenty voices atone tiin . My legal friend proceeded to state, iii a very lucid mam er, that the legal cour e, was to hold an inquest it the place where the b dy was found. Dwel ing at lenglh upon the duties of Coroner, Jury, etc, —the course being ma k‘d out, the townsman im— inediat' ly se about carrying out the details. The young lawyer and my self repaired to his office to examine the law. It was eoneeeded on all hands, that Uncle Job had no enemies, and therefore Ins death resulted from natural causes. My young friend tin reft ire. In make a--- ',r im ression, and to assist his memory, drew up the skeleton of a coroner’s inquest, to serve as a brief Very soon we were informed that the Coroner and Jury were ;eady to proceed with the trust imposed on them by the law Upon our arrival we found the mortal remains of Uncle Job lying in a very natural position, his head pil lowed on a small fallen tree, with a placid smile on his face, which seemed to say “that no violent hand hath hurried me into eternity. The Surgeon made an external pod mortem and pronounced no signs of violence had been discovered capable of producing death. Upon hearing this the Jury moved a short distance off and seated themselves on a large pine log, to consider and make up their verdict. While they were absent my legal friend was busily occupied in conning over his brief; that lie might be the more familiar with the legal terms. The Jury, after deliberating about an hour, returned and reported that they had agreed upon a verdict, and requested the “young limb of the law” to reduce the same to writing.— He immediately seized his pen, and dashed off the verdict as follows : We, the Jury, etc., (following the old legal forms, then in use in that State,) find that Job Whaley came to his death from the “visitation f God.” Here he layed down bis fen, and read the paper to the Jury, When lie came to the last clans —‘visitation of God,’ one of the Jurytnen standing by hint, cried out: Stop! Stop Square!! That won’t do lam an old man, have lived in this country before logins left, have seen a great many people die, but have never seen God visit any of them have no idea that he ever came to see Uucie Job Now Squire, lam sarn to this verdict, and we all say, o the best of our knowledge and beliei, that “lh Nateraly Died." “J. W. M.” Human knowledge iz not very koni' prehensive, alter all—l have seen mep who kould kalkulate au eklipse tew a square inch, who kouldn’t cum within thirty foot uv harnessing a Loss, — Bil lings. PALMETTO GEORGIA, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1873, Bill Arp ®n a Bust le. [Fro** the Rome Commercial See here, Mark Antony—if I was ‘you T-wonldeut take cm so about the fashuns. They dount bother me. It’s none of your business what the women put on or put off so they behave them selves and look just as purty as they can. They are a heap better than yon or tue anyhow, whether they be have or not. I wouldent give one woman for several men, no time, would you T Now see him smile and pat that off foot. If women want to wear bus sels, let’em wear’em. I thought that pnnears was best because they stuck out sideways and wasent in the way of leanin’ back when they sat down, but they know which is the best side to stick out on, and its’ nobody's busi ness but theirs. They may wear any thing they want to, bussels, and hoops, and hangovers, and convexes, and col lapses, and whimmadidles, and stick outs, and topknots come down, and anything else, so there is a woman hid away somewhere inside of it all.— It’s all a sham—that rubber bussel— there ain’t no substance or backbone in it. I’ve seen ’em flat and seen ’em biowed up. There ain’t a bit of harm in ’em, but I never see one on a woman that I don’t want to hit it just hard etiuf to make it pop I golly, wouldent she jump high and holler? But I’m not going to do it ; no sir, I’ve got too much respect for women. Their bns sels don’t hurt nobody, and I do de spise to see a man always piekin at a woman’s close. If they didn’t wear something to disguise ’em the men would quit business when they cum about Pnrty woman always did wear something to skeer the men away Its been so forever. Durin the war I seed one who j st dressed as nateral as life, without any paddin or stuffin, and when she cum along the boys jest laid down and rolled over and hollored. They waient fit, for bisness for a week But I coundent bear to see ’em tied up like they do in Turkey That would mighty nigh kill me If I can look into their bios ed countenances I can put up with their fore riggin, and hind riggin, and too riggin, and all. A good sweet pnrty face speaks for all be bn!! n'eevif the craft. I * many nary girl on the earth till I sec her face, and not then, if she didn’t suit me. If the eyes, nose and month are all right, nature is an endors r for all the bailance. Paint ain’t nothin— shape is everything. They can’t paint a shape, nor a glance of the eye. You may paint a house ever so white, hut that don’signify what’s inside of ;t. But when you see bright roses and poses and blossoms in the front yard and a vine over the door, you may bet your hat on the bailance. You needn’t worry about the bussels nor back.— Woman have been doin that way ever since old Solomon wrote about ’em.— If they do lean a little as they go it’s all right. They can straighten up when it’s necessary. No spinal disease about that. Them’s the very sort what can lift two bushels of meal without crackin a bone. It’s only a passiu fashuri, and will last till something else comes along. Nature made ’em that way, and you can’t change it.— The more you the more you oan’t.— The more y< u abuse their bussele, the more they’ll stick ’em at you—so let ’em alone, I say. They’re all the same about faßhuns, and the last one w ould put them on if they had their own way and plenty of money. I wish I was just rich enough to give every lady in the land a string of diamonds and a hat fulof pears. Good gracious ! how quick that Methodist disciplin would be busted on the jewelry bisness.— Well I do like, tc?* see ’em look pnrty and so far as I am concerned, if i ibbons, and flowers, and furs, end flounces will help to do it, its all right Some of the birds are dressed up mighty fine, and I reoon their pride aint much of a sin after all. But understand me, Mark —I don’t hanker after bnssels, the they do say it makes the nicest little shelf for the arm to rest on in the world, when a feller is dancin’ round with his gal. Tiiat’ all right, pro vided the fellei aint a dancin’ with my gal ; if lie is, why he may take her and keep her that’s all. Bill Arp. Delegates from eighty-five counties, to the number of about two hundred and fifty, will attend the State Agri cultural Convention, which assembles i in Augusta on the lltb. AGRICULTURAL ITEMS. The Farmers Vocation PerPetCaL We need not fear that the human race will ever cease to have ado iglit in the cultivation of land—the raising of grain and fruits—in planting trees Men always did delight in the pleasure of agriculture. It has Seen the chosen pursuit of the -aid sand w isest men in all ages. The pleasures of the hus bandman have I een the theme of poets and orators in evjry language and in every laud. These pleasures, Cicero tells us, are not checked by any old age, and make the nearest approach to the life of a wise man. And he tells us that Homer lotted urns Laertes, sootlifng the regret which he felt for •t.’s son, by tilling the land and manur ing it. Marcus Curius, after lie had triumphed over the Sammies, over the Sabines,over Pyrrhus, spent the closing period of liis existence in agricultural pursuits. Cincinnatus was at the rlow when it was announced to him that he was made Dictator. “God Almighty,” says Lord Bacon, ‘first planted a garden ; and indeed it is the purest of pleasures ; it is the greatest refresh ment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces ate but gross handiworks.” Addison days a gardner was the habitation of our first parents before the fall. It is naturally apt to fill the mind with calmness and tranquility, and to lay all its turbulent passions at rest. The philosopher Bolingbroke was never so happy, Pope tells us, as when among the hay-makers on his farm. And not alone in the refinements of rural life will there bean interest. Farmeis hold the world together. There may be years when they seem to be of less consequence Trade or manufactures may allure some of them for a time.— Bui there will ever be latent in every n an’s breast a hope to end his days on a farm. —Southern Press. Cure of Horses —All horses must not be fed in the same proportions, without regard t their ages, their con stitutions and their work ; the impro priety of such a practice is self-evident. Yet it is constantly done, and is the biitii“o(f disease of atuo-x- kind. . Never use iTid hay on account cf its cheapness, because there is no proper Hourishme t in it. Damaged corn is exceedingly inju rious, because it brings on inflammation of the bowels and skin diseases. Chaff is better for old horses than hay, because they can chew and di gest it better. Mix chaff with corn or beans, and do not give the latter alone, because it makes the horse chew his food more aid digest it better. Hay or grass alone will not support a horse under hard work, because there is not sufficient nutritive body in either. When a horse is worked hard its food should he chiefly oats—if not worked hard its food should he ch efly hay—because oats supply more nour ishment and flesh-making material than any other kind of food ; hay not so much. For saddle or coach hors'*, half a peck of sound oits and eighteen pounds of good hay are sufficient. If the bay is not good, add a quarter of a peck more oats. A horse which works harder may have rather more of each ; one that works little should have less. Rack feeding is wasteful. The bet ter plan is to feed with chopped hay from a manger, because the food is not then thrown about, and is more ea sily chewed and digested. Sprinkle the hay with water that has salt dissolved in it, because it is pleas ing to the animal’s taste, and more ea sily digested. A teaspoonful of salt in a bucket of water is sufficient. Oats should be bruised lor an old horse, but not for a young one, be cause the former, through age and defective teeth, cannot chew them pr perly. The young horse can do 8 ,, ; they are thus properly mixed with saliva, and turned into wholesome nu triment. —London Horse Look. Hog Manure. —There is no manure made on the farm equal to the excre ments of swine. To what purpose so ever it may be applied it will sustain its reputation as one of the best fer tilizers 1 A single hog during the eighteen months of its existence will make mure than twenty dollars worth of manure, if it be furnished with the ! materials, and all the urine and excre ment, saved ; but to effect tili-* purpose the floor of the pen should he m ule so that not a particle of the dr> ppings can go to was e. For manuring corn in the hill the manure made by fatten ing hogs stands pre-eminent above all ! other kinds ; and the absorbents best I to make manure for this purpose stand I in point of excellence in tire following I order: First sawdust ; next dried j swamp muck ; then leaves, straw and i other rough materials, which must un dergo fermentation before they can be made conveniently available to apply j to cnni-hilta Farmers, try the hog on his own merit, give them plenty of sun but no rain. Keep him decent by giving him : a plentiful supply of the raw material to work upon ; then apply the fruits of his labor to the corn-crop, and his cliost will he spen in the luxuriant crop, while his carcass is snugly stow ed in the meat barrel. Draining Fields.—A correspondent of the Ohio Farmer gives these direc tions for draining fields without the use of the spade : First stake out the line for the ditch, then plow three, four or five furrows, depending on the size of lire plow and the depth ot th ditch wanted, taking the last furrow from where yu want the centre of the ditch, then with a team and scraper (a g> od road scraper answers very well) scrape the earth each wdy, car. rying it back one, two or even three rods, if there is any low place to be filled up, sloping the banks so that you can drive a team and wagon or plow through without any difficulty ; then if the land is flat or level, plow at right angles from the ditch in lands fourteen cr sixteen paces wide, opening the last or dead furrow into the ditch. Plow in the same manner twice or three times if necessary, bring the last or dead furrow in the same place until your land is dry, and in rolling beds fourteen or sixteen paces wide. You can then cross the lands or beds and y; ur land will remain rolling and dry. The Alan of Long Life. lie has a proper and well proportion ed stature, without, however, being too tall, lie is rather of the middle size, and somewhat thick set. His complexion is not too florid ; at any rate, too much ruddiness in youth is seldom a sign of longevity. His hair approaches rather to the fair than the black : his skin is strong, hut not too rough. His head is net too big ; he has large veins at the extremities, and lii s shoulders are rather round than flat. His neck is not too long ; his abdomen does not project : and his hands are large, but not too deeply cleft. His foot is rather thick than long ; and his legs are firm and louud He bus also a broad, arched chest, a strong voice, and the faculty of retain ing his breath for a long time without difficulty. In general, there is a com plete harmony in all his parts. His senses are good, but not too delicate ; his pulse is slow and regular. His stomach is excellent, his appe tite good, and his digestion easy. The joys of the table are to him of impor tance : they tune his mind to serenity, and his soul partakes in the pleasure which they communicate. He does not eat merely for the pleaure of eat ing, hut cacti meal is an hour of daily festivity ; a kind of delight, attended with this advantage, in regard to oth ers, that it does not make him poorer, but richer. He eats slowly, and lias not too much thirst. Too great thirst is always a sign of rapid self consump tion. In general, he is serene, loquacious, active, susceptible o f joy, love and hope ; but insensible to the impressions of hatred, auger and avarice. His p -s --sinus never become too violent or de structive If be ever gives way to an ger, he experiences rather a useful glow of warmth, an artificial aud gen tle fever without an overflow of the bile. He is fond also of employment, particularly calm meditation and agreeable speculations, is an optimist, a friend to nature aud domestic felici ty, has no thirst after honors or riches, and banishes all thoughts of to-mor row. A long train of cars left the general passenger depot in Atlanta on the sixth inst., filled to its utmost with negroes bound for Arkansas, {NO. 35. Story of Poor Little Stepliert Girard. The man lives in Philadelphia wlio when young and poor entered a bank, and says lie “Please, sir, don’t you want a boy ?’ And the stately per sonage said, “No, little boy, I don’t want a little boy.” The boy whose heart was too fall for at erance, chew ing a piece of licorice stick he had bought with a centstolen from his good and pious aunt, with sobs plainly audi ble, and with great globules of water rolling down" his cheeks, glided silent ly down the marble steps of the bank-. Bending his noble form, the bank man dodged behind a door, for he thought j the little boy was going to shy a stone iat him. But the boy picked up aonie- I thing and stuck it in his poor ragged jacket "Gome here, little boy,” and the little boy did come here ; and the bank man said, “Lo, what pickest thou up ?" And he answered and re plied, “A pin.” And the bank man said, “Little boy, are you good ? ’ and he said he was. And the bank man said, “How do you vote ?—excuse me, do you go to Sunday school ?” and lie said he did. Then the bank man took down a pen made of pure gold and flowing with pure ink, and wrote on a piece of paper, “St. Peter,” aud asked the little boy what it stood for, and he said, “S dt Peter.” Then the bank man said it meant “Saint Peter.” The little boy said “Oh !” Then the bank man took the little boy to his bosom, aud the little boy said “Oh 1” again, for he squeezed him. Then the bank man took the lit tle boy into partnership, and gave him half the profits and all the capital, and he married the bank man’s daugh ter, and now all he has is all his, and all his own, too. STORY OF ANOTHER GOOD LITTLE BOY. My uncle told me this story, aud I spent six weeks picking up pins in front of a bank. I expected the bank man would call me in and say, “Little hoy, are you good ?” and I was going to say “Yes and when he asked me what “St. John’’ stood for I was going to say “Salt John.” But I guess the bauk man wau't anxious to have a part ner, and I guess the daughter was a .-Brm, a’jnr -OTTC.-Ony ™-ro vnrter tm, TUX* tie boy, what’s that you're picking up?” Says I awful meekly, • , rins.’ Says he, “Let’s see ’em.” And he took ’em, and I took off my cap, all ready to go in the bank, and become a part ner, and marry his daughter. Bu* I didn’t get an invitation. He said, “Those pins belong to the bank, and if I catch you hanging around here any more I’ll set the dog on you !” Then I left, and the mean old cuss kept tin; pins. Such is life as I find it.— Marie Twain. The Poor old Bachelor —ln the ni l times it was considered unpatriotic in a citizen to remain a bachelor all his days. By the Spartan law, those citizens who remained ba helors a Per middle, were excluded from all offices, civil and military. At certain feasts they were exposed to public derisions, and led around the market-place.— Although, generally speaking, ag<- was usually respected in Sp 'r’a, yet this feeling was not manifested tow&ids old bachel is. “Why should I make way for you,” said a Spartan youth to a gray headed old bachelor, you will never have a son to do me the same honor when I cm old? The Roman law pursued the same policy towards old bachelors. They had to pay extra and special taxe . Under Augustus a law was enacted by which old bach elors were made incapable of acquii ing legacies and devises of real estate by wiil, except from their relatives. In cannon law old bachelors are eujo nod to marry, or to profess chastity, or in earnest to become monks. The latest verdict rcorded wa s upon a gentleman who expired in a fit of inebriation. The jury 'return * ed, "Death by hanging—ronn Ia rum shop.” This was savage, and devoid of regard for the gentleman’s family in a similar case in California the verdict was more gracefully and con eiderately put : “Accidental death while unpacking glass.” The newly discovered tin mines near Sun Diego are reported very rich. Several hundred pounds of the ore have been brought to San Francisco for assay. As the work progresses the ledge increases in thickness and the ore in richness.