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I. li. IILDKS, Editor. VOL. Ml. <Uie (Quitman fanner, PCKUSHFI) KVKUY FKIDAY. \ ELMS CF StJESCBIFiIOff. i\ advanck. Far one year $3 00 I iM* si v mouths 2 00 For three month* 1 00 For single eojiy ]u TKUMS FOK ADVERTISING. IXVAUIAIM.Y IN K I>V VM’K. One square, (10 lines or It**?,) first inserti;n $2 *00; eacii following insertion. >1 %. When lulwriistMiUMits m e continueil for one mouth or longei, the charge will be vs folio vs : j 12 Month?. | - (» Months. | .3 Months.; 1 Month, j Number I of | Squares. | 1 | $ 6 oo j s*lo 00 j* 15 00 1$ V 0 oo 2 8 00 l.i 00 25 00 3.') 00 3 | 12 00 j IS 00 | 35 00 45 00 4 | 10 00 I 24 00 j 40 00 53 00 : ft I 20 00 I 35 00 j 45 00 00 00 iCol mnl 35 00 I 55 00 j SO 00 12|> 00 l “ ! tit) 00 I SO 00 I 130 00 200 ()<)£ Obituary notices, Tributes ot lit spool, and all articles ot a personal cliaiack-r, chargetl for as n lveriisemer.is. For announcing candidates for ofilce, SIO.OO poetical. THE CAHriIT-SAGGBE I’m a gey old ( ipe -bag ;-; r ! O! don’t you out ers . u,!? ’M ing the colored folks I swagger— Down in • he ('•» on lauil. Now I’ve goL no eibln •, on : Ft br<* ; ns 1 does not brrg, Bet 1 owns a big plan mio.u All »n my e. rpe out. (Juoitta l‘m a gey obi Orpet-begger! O! ee;»* t y> u Along ilie colored folk.-' I swagger— Down in ihe cuuon laud. In the North 1 was nobody - O! don’t you tinders u id ? N« w 1 <).-'gJ.« mv wine and toddy K'ng of .he co.ion lend. For ! • i.’vrs ,ne Mil sieve master -- lie calls me. .Seelewag.” AN nile he vows, .’as, mul faster, 1 fills my c*rpci bag. i ’m a gay old Oarpoi.-bagger, etc. J’m the loyal Curpei bagger, Who naes .he <’ol,ou land: J\n a happy Scelawagger, O ! can I you under•-. ..ml ? For t'ongrcsH g«*es seme motn*n’ 'this curst old Se. la wag, And 1 p«\» ’em back f.»•• scornin’ My loyal cerpe bag. I’m a gay o*u Cj-.rpet-bagger, etc. But 1 hear a st inn a comin 7 So 111 tieve to close my ditty: For we’ll all get hicks ior bnmmiti* Abound this Ne.s’iviMe . L le-ani .he nation‘h thornier; We ' •• lost our game ot brag; 1 am oil with spoons and plunder, All in my ca-pet b •. Ini a ga'- old « b r-ger. elc. ):]{. [\\\)\n HIRED M\. BY GRACE TERRY. ' r imp was leaning over tlic gar don gale, In b.ovv knitted in anxious thought, win i lie was accosted by a stmdy, shabby dressed man, who said, <h uwlingly: “5a ay, ycou, dye want tu hire a hand?” “1 was wanting to hire a lad to do chores about (lie bods*', but I supprse you’d be asking a man’s wages?’ “Wal, el the work ain’t lew hard, J ain’t no way s perlioTer ’bout that. Giev me plenty to eat, an’ fair lreatme.it, an’ we won't quarrel ’liooiit the pay.” Mr. Chump luirk-d scrutiiiiziiigly upon the face ol the speaki r The lank, tow colored hair was combed down into the half closed sh <py I. eding eyes, anil ids whole appearance was that of a simple good nulured, though by no means 1 11- looking fellow. “\Vhat is your name ?’’ “Kbcn White.” “Well Eben, go round to ti e kitchen and get yonr supper, and to morrow i'll set you to work." Mr. Champ walked slowly into the house, to where a spare, hard featured woman was sitting by the window. “Lid you hire him?” “Yes.” “1 only hope you won’t be sorry for it then. If anything should happen just remember ’twa’nt none of my doings.” There ain’t no danger witii him ; lie isn’t over bright and looks as if lie’d be lieve most anything a body told him. We’ve got to have someone and 1 think its lucky we came across him. It wouldn’t do to have any one around that’s too noticing.” “I should think not. As for me, I’m sorry I ever got into such a scrape, i never would, il’l’d thought the girl would have lived till this lime. I’m sure sin was crazy enough after she had that spell of sickness.” “Yes ; but she isn’t now, and hasn’t been this six months. I’ve managed to frighten her well, but she knows enough. And I tell you what ’bs, Jane, if she gels out into the world it’ll be a bad tiling loi ns. We shall get into limbo, sure, be 6id< s losing the property.” “I don’t know ’bout that, Josie nev er was n * ways revengc’ul, ?and il we let per go now, I don’t believe she’d bo bard on us.” “You t» k like » fool !’’ growled the man. “I)ye lh.uk after all tire risk I’ve I run I’m going |n give up the game now? As for yon, you’d better not turn against me, if you do you’d wish you’d never been bom.” ’ I’ve no idea of turning against yon Dan; we’re in (lie same float and will have to s : nk or float together. Hut some henv I c ni't Imlp feeling soriy f r the gii I. You see 1 promised her father when lie died—’’ ‘O, bosh, don’t botlie’- me with yonr womanish fauc es She's looking sort of pale and weakly, and I shouldn't Wonder it she didn’t last tluough the year, and then she’d be out ol her troubles anil we out of ours.’ After tea, Mr. Chump sauntered round j the buck way where he found Ebon sil < iog ns: i ide of a log whittling and wliisl ; ling •Yankee Doodle." ■ “Weil, Eben, dal lin y give you a good ■ supper ?” “Ya as, mitilin’ square. I liain t seen j noibin* since I left until like the dough j nuts an’ juukiii pies that ni.mn used to i make. An’ the slapjack with ’lassis on ’em, .Te-iu sa lem ! they'd go down a fel ler’s tlooat as slick as greased lightnin’!’ 'l’m sorry you don’t find the cooking equal to marin’s,’ said Mr. Champ, with j an amused look at the fellow’s simplici ty, “but so long as you are faithful you , shall have the best die house affords, you will sleep in the room 0.-er the shed,; and I’ve come ;<> tell you that we have a crazy daughter in the atUe id the main building ami you tniisn’t lie frightened if; you hear her cry out. She can’t get out to hurt anyone.’’ “The r e never was no crazy' gal, nor man either, that could skier me. My gruii’thcr was crazy us a loon more’ll two yea's a tore he died, but 1 wer’u’t none aiea’o oil him.” ‘Well, you’d better not notice bet if she speaks to you, it only makes her act worse to an aer her.’ ’No, ’taint never no k’nd id use notic in’ what c.jzy.fulks s iys, there uiut nev er no sense in I•.’ M l ’. Chump went away rippio ntly very well satisfied with his new hired man. The next morning Kbcn erne id upon In’s duties of bringing wood and water and ilo’ng odd jobs about toe house. He was veiy good nainred, a.id, though evi dently not ineb e-d to hurry himself, gave very tab: satisfaction. Often, as Eben sat In his room over the shed, sobs nod moans reached him fioni the wretched inmate of the attic, twotdoiies above, and occasionally a pale faco was pressed close to the iron loirs of the window that looked down up on linn 'Em net crazy ; let me out !’ often fl ated down to him up ni the cool even ing In ooze. As the sweet, plaintive voice reached E' en, a siiimge gleam shot into the g. ' :d!y sleepy looking eyes. Hut he paid no alieutioii toil; bending Ids mind still more resolutely upon his work—and curious work it was—the fashioning out of rope a long, narrow net-work, resem bling a ladder, and which he always tin'iist under the bed whenever he heard anyone approaching. As he worked on it most at night, af ter all the house was still, he made but slow progress; but at last it was finish ed, and stowed snugly' away under the straw t ick of his bed. The next night about twelve, curious preparations were going on in Eben White’s room First an old hair tiunk was opened and a small hamper was taken from it, containing a bottle of wine and a f :\v biscuits, and which were arranged i cally on a stand. Then a lady's dress, hat, shawl boats and gloves made their appearance, all of them plain but of the jiices. material and were laid : carefully on the bed. Then Ebeu took the rope-ladder, and securing one end ol it to the bed post, ascended through the skylight to the roof of the shed. He then looked cau tiously a on and ; but perceiv'. g that the coast was clear he attached the other end of the ladder to his waist and began to climb up to the atlic window, partly by means of a vine that clambered over the side of the house and when that fail ed, as it did when still too far from the window sill to reach it he worked his way along with his jack-knife, which was very' sharp and strong. The assent was not only perilous, but painful and his hands were torn and , bleeding as he paused for breath upon | (lit le'oad ledge of solid brickwork be neath the little window. A white face and a pair of glittering eyes looked out upon him. ‘l’m not crazy; let rie out !’ said the same sweet, plaintive voice that hud so often d'iveu sleep from his pillow. II ( i ! .Josie,’ lie whispered, soothing Ilv ; “it is I—Benjamin Vance. Don’t make any noise !’ By the aid ol the tools that l.c had in his pocket, the young man removed the I heavy- banedsasli and having done tins, ! he lied the ladder securely to a stout iron spike that projected from the inner ; wall. He then took up in his strong ; arms Josie’s light slender form who had ! been watching, him with breathless in— tercst, ami directing her to cling closely t to his neck so as to leave his hands a id feet at liberty he began his slow descent The rope swayeo ...nth him and his i lovely burthen, but was too strong to I break, auil he reached his room in safe -1 He placed the half fainting girl upon the bed, and gave lier some of the wine that hie thoughtful tenderness hud pro vided, and she scon reviled. HSnE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY PEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN. QUITMAN, GEO., SKI’TH.MBEK 25, 1808. Josie looked up bewildered into the face that was bending over her ‘A u:i speak and smile like Benjamin, and yet ’ The young man tore from his lead the low-colored wig, bringing to v ew the bright elibsuut hair she so well remem bered. ‘D -n't I look natural now ?’ he wliis- 1 peicik only reply was to lay her cheek loudly to his. “My poor wronged dulling' said Hen jumin, draw ing her eh sidy to him, 'they tried to make me think you were dead.’ ‘And they tried to make me think 1 was eva/.y, and that I was Malinda, my step mother’s daughter that died. But they could never frighten me into ac- j knowdedgdng it. Ah, I have suffered so much so very much .!' ‘I know it clear love ; but it is’over now- No sorrow shall come lu-ur you again from which 1 can shield you.’ It being now near n oruing they con j sidered it impindeut to remain longer ; and as soon as dosie was attTed in her traveling suit Benjamin conducted her I to the carriage that was waiting lor them, and the rescued maiden was ear lied rapid.v away from ;he scenes ol her wrongs and snlTcrings. Mr and Mrs. Chump being away, it vas not until the evening of the follow ing day that they discovered Josie’s flight. In the midst of their alarm and ennsiernat ion a stranger arrived who de manded an immediate interview. He regarded sieudy the guilty pair. ‘My name is Benjamin Vance, and I have conn to demand in the name of my j wee Josephine, the property left her by j her lather Robert limit, and out of which) you and her stepmother have defrauded I her.’ Mr. (Tamp turned pale; but still tried to brave it out ‘Josephine Hunt is dead, atid by the to .lift of her father’s will in case she died unmarried the property reverts to his widow who is now my wife.’ ‘Home, Mr. Champ, this won’t do. I’m in oo mood to he trifhd with as you will fiiul to your cost, if you attempt it. I have Hiillificnt evidence at my command lo omsiirn l»<nli yon and your wife to t Ik* p(»ni;oii11 ary; hut on the pleadings ol the penile oi ( | you have ko cruelly wron# ed, I will let you escape hut only on eon diiion that von make full restitution, and then leave the country forever.* Mi s. (lliainp di e\v near her husband, with a while scared look. ‘Make terms with him, Dan, she whi.s fO’.ll. Mi * hump sullenly yield, and. “I hope that you are now satisfied,’ he said as Mr. Vance carefully exainied the deeds, mortgages, &e , that he bunded Lc him. A rough twinkle came into Benjamin’s eyes ’ ‘Yu as, I should say that things naoiv were about as they’d ortor he!’ Mi. (Tamp at lirst looked astonished, ami then, as there Hashed upon his mind the knowledge of how and by whom he had been out wilted, he act u illy foamed with rage. And as soon as his unwel come visitors hack was turned many and fierce were the curses that he bestow ed upon his hired man, Eben. But they in no way alluded the pros perity of Benjamin and Jose, as their liappy after life testified. ONLY 1 lllillllML BY JIKI.BN J'oRRKST GRAVES. The snow was falling like a myriad flight of tiny, white winged birds, the | December blast howled mournfully through too twilight streets, when the I lights were beginning to shine out here I and there solitary beacons of fire, and | Grace and Myra Payne were sitting be | fore the grate in their cosey, well-used s ttiiig ro un, talking. Grace had been darning stockings a piece of domestic linger-oruft not partic ularly ornamental, but nevertheless most essential, and Myra was dotting the edge of a shirt collar with stitches like seed pearls, bin it. was grown too dark to work now, and they sat. in the ruddy j shine Jof the grate lire, en joying the sea son commonly known as blind man’s hol- I iJ«y- .. f ‘Now, Grace, I’m sure you’ll think better of it,’said Myra coaxingly. ‘Don’t think there’s the least prospect in lito of any such tiling.’ returned Grace. Stay, though. Wo have not photo graphed our heroines for the eye of the rea ler’s fancy. Well, they w. re two very pictty girls, although in somewhat different styles. Myra, the elder by a year, was tall and slender, with dark languid'! eyes, an oval face, and jet black hair slightly rippled, while Grace w’as small and sprightly, rather inclined in be I plump than otherwise, with big brown eyes,| full of liquid laughter, a skin like lose-colored'satin, and brown curls which could no more have been coaxed to lie j straight than so ‘many grape-vine ten drils ‘You are really going to marry a com mon mechanic !’ persisted Myra, remon stratively. i ‘ Well, 1 think he’s a rather uncommon j < me-my self.’ ‘But onr papa is a gentleman.’ ‘Our pupa is a lawyer by profession, Myra, but T don’t think he is any more ! of a gentlenr in than Waller G. nlis.’ I ‘Mechanics are not gentlemen !’ Acs, they are il they' behave them selves. Now, look here, Myra,’ and t • ' hig brown eves became v< ry resolute, ‘J am very glad that y.ni are engaged to ] a A all street broker, who lives in a. brown stone house, but I don’t think that gives you the privilege ot crilicis iog mv level!’ ‘But lie is so poor, Grace.’ j ‘He has health and strength, and his mvn strong right arm to help him.’ ‘And you will have to work.’ ‘Well wliat then ? My goodness gra cions ! and Grace elevated two plump little hands, ’wliat do you suppose these were given to me for? To wear kid gloves and diamond rings only, and to gather roses? No, indeed ! 1 can find a better use for them than that.’ ‘Grace, yon are perfectly iticir.igi hie !’ ” A es, I am; so you may just as well leave oil lecturing me,’ said Grace, sau cily. ‘I plead guilty to all your accusa tions. lam going to marry nothing but a mechanic. 1 shall live in half a house; I can’t go out in a carriage, nor give} parties, and 1 think il very likely that 1 | shall not unlreqnonlly wash dishes, sweep rooms and iron my Imsduiid’s shirts.— And through it all I expect to be very happy.’ Myra sighed and abandoned the use less argument. Wliat was to be done with so very uinensonnblo a damsel as this. A bright little hearthstone—a kittle singing on the hop; the crimson carpet, not Brussels, nor velvet, but simple in grain, and the plain, neat luruiture with i Grace smiling at the ready spread table j this was a pleasant home for Walter I Genlis to come to, alter his day’s work in the great machine shop was over. ‘Upon iiiy word,’ In: said, gpyly, ‘1 think we’er happier here than Myra, in her hig house, with her parties and her visiting list, anu her swarm of servants. I)o you know, Grace, I almost felt at one time that I was doing wrong in marry iag you ?’ ‘Wrong, Walter ?’ ‘Myia seemed to think you were such a victim.’ ‘Do I look like a victim !’ demurely asked Grace? ‘Why, no, 1 can’t sav I liiiuk you do, but I wish 1 could have brought yon to a house all of your own, my pet. Never mind; some day you shall reign in a pal ace win thy of you.’ ’Nonsense, \V alter; could I he happier anywhere than with you.’ ‘Are you happy, love ?’ She rose from her seat and came over to her husband's side, looking full into his face with eyes so eloquent that all the dictionaries in creation could not have sp- ken more plainly. Yes, he knew that she was happy. Mrs. Linley, too, thought that she was happy, and pillied “poor dear Gra cie’ from the very bottom of her heart.— No servants; no silver napkin rings; no double damask table cloths with embroid ered milligrams on them; no carriage; no Wilton carpets nor broeatid curtains. What would life be worth without these? And then, too, she lived so outtandishly i—actually dining in the middle of the j day, and having—good fates ! pork and cabbage occasionally and fried onions ! j Mrs, Unify was quite sure that she ; could not have existed under such a | fearful concatenation of circumstances, j 'Of course we must continue to Visit ! them,’ said Myra, iidiailing the Lubiii per ! fume from her Valenciennes edged pock et handkerchief, ‘but really I am quite I ashamed to have our carriage seen in such a commonplace street.’ ‘She’s your sister,’ said Mr. Linley, ‘and Genlis is a good fellow, after all.’ ‘I know it, hut a common mechanic !’ And Myra took out her pearl tablets to look over her visiting list. Grace Genlis knew very well that Mr. Guslavus Linley despised her and her low estate, but Grace cared not two pins lor that—why should she ? VV as she not ' liappy as Queen Victory’s self in her snug little house, with love to brighten . the low ceilings and beautify the maple i wood furniture. Grace is a pearl of great ; r o thought ! young husband, as he watched her at i her thritty housewifery, ‘and some day she shall shine in a proper sitting as well j as Gustaves Linley’s conceited doll of a ! wife. Stic shall, or my name is not Wal | ter Genlis !’ Mrs. Linley did not find herself entire-; ly inconsolable when Walter Genlis ac } cep ted an offer from a California firm to come out ns head machinist, and her sis-; ter went away. ‘lt’s ,just as well,’ thought Myra,‘for she wanted to give a series of Germans this winter, and I couldn’t have invited them, and, of course, they would have been mortally offended ! Now it’s all light!’ And the years passed by, and Myra l Linley ‘forgot’ to answer her sister’s let i tors so often that, at lenglit, Grace left off writing, and Mrs. Linley became a j bright star in the world and j enjoyed the false, artificial life as one en i joys feverish excitement of any kind. j O.io evening Mr. Linley came in late, j but ho often did that. Myra glanced ; languidly up from a book she was skim- I ining over, not because she enjoyed lead ing, bat because it was a fashionable j work, and she wanted to soy s-h ■ had - read it—and noticed that his face was | perturbed. ‘ What is the matter ?' she inquired, a little startled by his look. ‘The matter,’ returned Gostevas, de- liberately seating himself’ opposite her, ‘is that we are ruined !’ ‘U hut do you mean ?’ ‘Simply that we are penniless—beg | gated—loi ven’t a cent in the world and (debts enough to sink the Spanish Anna da !’ j Myra looked at hint in blank dismay. ‘And what are we going' to do?’ ‘Do? Why, do as other people do !' savagely answered her husband. ‘Go into the second sbtv of a tenement house j and starve.’ Mrs. Linley fell into weak, hysterics Her husband, not heeding her sal staring moodily at the floor. ‘lt must be a horrible dream,’ groaned Mvra; ‘it can’t be true !’ But, unfortunately, it was true, and in something less than a week Mrs. Linley, her husban.l, and her three children, found themselves the inmates of a taw dry, third rate hoarding'house, while Gustavos vainly tried to obtain a situa tion hero as clerk, and Myra cried and scolded allermilely and wished so many times a day that she were dead, that Guslavus finally lost all patience, and intimated, darkly, that ‘lie wished so, too !’ And then Myra called him a ‘horrid hrnle,’ and cried more persistently than ever. ‘A carnage at the door, and to see me! It can't be possible!’ said Mrs. Linlev, peeping over the blinds of the window, ‘lt was Mrs. Guslavus Linley the la dy asked for, ma’am- a bright, pleasant spoken lady ns ever 1 seen,’ said the maid ol all work who hail brought up (lie message. ‘Tell her to come up here,’said Myra, lucklessly, as she liurrievlly smoothed down her neglected hair a ltd tw idled at llie bullous of her faded silk wrapper. ‘Why, Grace Genlis ! it isn’t you ?’ It was Grace Genlis, nevertheless, in a superb black silk, and precious India shawl, and real diamonds in her ears, but Grace Genlis all the sung:—eager, loving and impulsive. ‘Wo heard about Gustavns’s failure,’ cried Grace, hugging her sister and laughing and ery'ng qillecnativcly, ‘and M alter Saiel we would come to New York at once, and see wliat, we could do lor you. We are rich people now, Wal ter and I.’ said Grace with a spice of innocent triumph, ‘arid he has concluded to settle in Ne‘W Y ark, and Walter owns the Genlis Iron Works, and wo should like Gustaves for book-keeper, and of Course, you’ll all come and live with ns and that’s all, Walter, deal isn’t il?’ ‘All ! 1 should think it was,’ said Mr. Genlis. who ha ! listened smilingly to liis wile’s avalanche of words, ‘and a pretty mess y. ti’ve tiiude of it. There, Myra, slop crying - we’ll be all right u gain, presently.’ ‘lt's so—so trying,’ sobbed Mrs. Lin ley, ‘tlint Grace should be rich, and wear diamonds, and 1 ——’ ‘Di 1 n’t 1 always tell yon I should put my little wife in her right place one of these days, although I was nothing hut a mechanic?' demuned Walter. ‘Why, here is Linley, I declare. Give usy.on hand, old fellow I yon haven’t changed a hit,’ And Gustavos Linley listened with humble thankfulness to his brother-in law’ll offer lo make him book-keeper to lone of the branch establishments of Ids i famous Iron wia ks. ; ‘But how did you strike this golden vein ?’ inquired ho, when lie had accept ed tin: position, with many thanks, and ; Myra had vvliisperingly commented on j their being reduced to such an ignoble j fate. 'lt was all through an invention of Will- j tins,’said Grace gleefully ‘I always ! knew Walter would make his way in the I world. But come —get your tilings on j —l’m going to take you away with me ! Walter and Oastavus can wa’k, and there is lots of room lor the ciiildern in } the carriage with us ?’ Mrs Linley was thankful enough to. leave the limits of this third rate boa id j ! ing house, ami return once more to a ! spacious brown stone front, where the j halls were paved with mosaic marble, and the ceilings frescoed in clove Color and j gold. But it was none the less a sore [come-down for her pride that the house was not, her own, but that of the simple j minded little sisier wh > had married 'a Common mechanic !’ ‘Who would have thought it, ten years . ago !’ sighed Myra. The young lady who burst into tears has been put together again, and is now wearing hoops to prevent a recurrence of the accident. Some men are so extravagant that il they owned the solar system tlu-y would cat the moon up into shillings and squaii [ dor the proceeds in a week. Ox a recent rainy day, a wag was j heard to exclaim: ‘Well, my umbrella is a regular Catholic !’ ‘How so ?’ Be | cause it always keeps lent. Love is better than a pair el spectacles \ to make everything seem greater which is seen it. Don't despair. If you slip down just ! get up. A stout heart is as Mtrc to final i ly weather the gale as a pretty is to girl j bring down the man of her choice. The pape;* containing muni’ line points - the paper of uce Ues. [*3.00 per Annum NO. 33 IHIE CHILDREN'S U It 1 JS.VDE. [n tile summer of 1213 :i () >y was no ticed wandering from town to town in Brunei'. His hand was never stretched ! ont lor aims, nor die voice subdued into tin’ beggar's whine. Ho belonged not to the tribe of vagrant students and still less to that if the mountebank or the picaroon. Neitherdid.*yc ■n ry either of those universal passports— It)'.' palmers sin IT or the glermnii’s cithara. Unlike each ami nil of these, his mien was saint Iv and his conduct i reproachable.—- Wherever lie went he chanted the words ‘Lord Jesus give us back the Holy Cross!’ pausing only to indulge in fervent pray* | er. In a little time he was universal y revered as the messenger of Heaven, and happy was that house esteemed wherein he designed to take up his lodg ing. But soon the alarm began to per meate and deepen the awe with which he was everywhere regarded. And tru ly the effect of his example was appall ing. All nt once the pale infatuation seized on nil the hoys of the same age. No sooner was his voice heard in any' town or hamlet, than out they poured, mustered in his track and accompanied him blindly whithersoever it pleased hint to direct his course. Bolts and bars were useless to restrain him; tears and prayers to turn them for their purpose. They hastened to quit father, mother, home everything that was dearest to fol low this strange lender, and chant with h : m, ‘Lord Jesus, give ns back the holy Cross !’ They came to him by twenties, bv hundreds, by thousands. Lvery day adding to the throng until at length no city would consent to receive them with in its will s. Having gathered this great host 1 ii.* directed its march towards the shores of the Mediterancon. Himself led the way reclining in a charriot lined with clonks. After him pressed the countless tlvong chanting ‘Lord Jesus, give ns back the Holy Cross ’ And every instant they trampled the weaker to deatii ns they struggled for the place nearer to their lender's ear for he among them was envied exceedingly who could touch Ids person or gather a thread hom his robe. ' In the end the whole ot them perished, on the hind or in the sea. BOOT CULTURE IN ENGLAND. A recent number of the Bucks county' I (Penn) Intel'genccr contains a letter from a IVo-isylvanlun, visiting in Lin colnshire, England, in which he says r "With ns, where Indian corn, thought a tropica! plant, can be successfully grown f tun Maine to Texas inclusive, the turnip is of secondary importance ivi i*st in Great Britan, and portions of t c Continent it is a staple of the highest value, the great meat-producing so id. Its increased cnltuie, within a few generations back, has added to the com fits of the English artisans, increased’ 11 11 • i•• pliyn'c.d sirfnglh and productive power and added to die wealth of the na tion. Some political economist in compu ting the value of the turnip crop of great Brittle, estimated it as equal to the in— ■crest on the funded debt of the country. How little can that he understood by an Anieritnn farmer, with Ins half ere patch. Though mot crops are certainly ,of ■secondary value with us there can be nit I doubt we should find our interest in ! giving them greater attention, if not for fattening from hygienic motives. “A seedsman in iiverp ml told mo that he bad a standing o iler for 150 bushels of turnip seed to go to Ireland, where it was R'.inmd’y sown upon the binds and | fed to the so ck of one man a’so that in i the South of England he had a similar cusr I turner so- 70 bushels. And the head of a ' seed establshment in Edinburge told me that they sell annually 22,000 bushels of j turnip seed ahum. Think of that, wlioi» I there are 4,000 seed in a teaspoontull ! Madam, you said your son was a law yer- has he much practice ? ‘Why yes, sir; he has a practice of smoking cigars!’ How to make a rich jam—crowd twain tv fashfotiably dressed ladies into oner oinuibns 'All’s well that ends well.’ That's wiry I girls with small feet are counted pretty. Tt is decided that ships cannot be made inf rubber, because they would rub ou-8 ttie lines of latituile antHongitiide, Miss Blotter who teased her fat her f' r a ivate.fal! received two dams instead. » Newly set trees maybe protected froin> ! the heat of summer hy r covering their [ trunks with repos Hindu 1 of freshly cut grass or clover. It is a good plan to j moisten the wrapping occasionally if the I weather is very dry'. What would this world be without a woman ? A perfect blank—like a*.sheet of paper—not even ruled. Woman with all her beauty and worth' should remember that man was the chief matter considered at the creation. She was only a side issue#- ‘Corn liri ad?' said an Irish waiter, Sve. hav’nt got it; an’ Isn’t corn bate ye ' mane V ‘I say, l'.it, what .arc you about— | sweeping out the room V ‘.No,’ answers- Pat, 'I am sweeping out. the dot ami leal mg the room.’