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T. R. TILDES; Editor. VOL. to j|hj <snttman gamut. PUBLISHKD EVKRY FRIDAY, terms: TWO A YEAR WIIEX PAH) r.V ADVANCE. Al'YhiPftsiNG. to One sqnare, (10 lines, or less,) first insertion $2.00; eaclj following insertion, SI.OO. When advertisements are continued for one womh or longer, the will be as follows : !?fo. !l rfonSn 2 Months. ! 1 j3 Months. W -5 Mottos. Months. 7 Months, s Months. 9 Months. 12 Months. ljSs.oo| S 2[>.001 1 i;.j IN •2y 21 20 28 30 35 :!(10.001 1.3 20J 25| 301 341 :(! 38 40l 43 *•[12.00 18 21 30 3<i| 101 42 41 Hij 53 5 14.80 25 33 30 44 4i:| 48 50 52| B 0 Ojlfi.oo! 30 1 i:' Mil 5.V 50 57 58 05 121:10.001 50 63 7>T ? : | 80 85 on 100 120 18 15.00 65 75 80 85 <W 100 110 1201150 LEGAL ADVERTISING. Sheriffs Sales, gor levy of 5 lines $ 2.50 “ “ exceeding 5 lines, pr. sqr.. 5.0,0 Sales by Administrators, Executors ami Guardians, ner-qu&re (1.00 Citation of Administrator or Gnardian * ship, per sqnlre 5.00 Notice to Debtors and Creditors 6.00 t i tut ion for leave to .ell laud 6.00 Citation of Dismission of Administrator.. 10.00 " " Guardian 6.00 Homestead Notice 5.00 For innoiinrinp candidates for.office. SIO.OO Obit tary notices, Tribatesof Respect, and at* articles of a personal cbaractei. ebarged fer'as advertisements. 9 v^Htallmtconsu GRIEF FOR THE BEAD. O heart never cease to yearn! O brimming tears that ne'er are ilii.nl: TOMErail. Itnmidi they depart, return <AS though they baa not i!i■ 1! The the only dead, 'JJie deao five,— nevermore to die: JTI ofteu. when we mourn them tied, They never were so nigh! And though they lie beneath the waves, „ Or sleep within the churehyard dim, (Ah! through how many different graves God's children go to him!)- Yet every grave gives up its dead fVe it is overgrown with grass; Then w hy should hopeless tears be shed, Or ueed wo cry “Alas!” Or why should Memory, veiled with gloom, And tike a sorrowing mourner craped, Sit weeping o'er an empty tomb. Whoso Captives have escaped? ’Tis but a mound,. —and will be mossed Whene'ei the summer gras, appears; Tbt*oved, though wept, are never tus!: tenrs^w dead Tty --Hu’AMLry, .withA backward tread, with them afar. i'Wb we*.,-e. are but foreea-t, we shall find them all once more; We took behind us for the Past, But lot ’tis all before! AT THE BRIDGE. ’They are lute, Mabel, are they not? JAjLt can have detained them?’ gore I can not tell. I fancied 1 BMpi>rJ3te?!|ol hoofs a moment since. plainer now.’ in the verandah , .Sj v seat in II n .it ItlNSHk'' I.ainont, was a v. itli !.n I;, i in- Ml Inssis lie; £l|@|SjS|L tie 1 f ’i. gaggli i me f ■ li' P'h lS M ’ : Ae -jjitoii ran ■ • •.•••th i, * ‘iri riding hatiits, hatiil !. ' with whir'll she irri- lip pod the toe of the" dainty hoot that peeped oat from beneath her skirt. At one side negligently leaning a gainst ft pillar, his dark eyes fixed upon Mabel's fair face, was the figure of a young mti i,' apparently about twenty . vears cf age®!:, f- atfives ClaiJ'oce La* %V nt rcafembßl bis**fi ster Louise; but 1 while,oimfflro*' "aii type of pore wo manly a hardness a bont the month of the other that tolJ ol a far different nature. 'Ah, here they come at last!’ cried! Louise. 'But Amy : s alone. What can have detained her brother Ernest?' As she spoke, a young lady mounted on a pretty little pony, rode at a rapid pace up to the house; and before Clar ence could reach her side, • site had sprung from her saddle, and affection ately greeted her two friends, as they ran down the steps. ‘Ernest was unexpectedly obliged to go to Blackdale this morning,’ she said, iu reply-to Mabel’s eager inquiry: ‘but will meet us at the little bridge.’ ‘Gome, then, brother Glareuce, let ns mount and away,’cried Louise gayly. •John is bringing out the horses,’ was Ciaience [reply. ‘Come,’ he added, as Mabel’s steed was hi ought up. Soon all were mounted, and then, Mabel and Clarence in advauce, all rode off. ‘Cousin Mabel, let us t ide on and read the bridge first. Louise and Amy Hal— sted are deep in some confidential con ference, and will scarcely miss us.’ Mabel acceded, and soon Louise and her friend were left behind. A turn in the road quickly hid them from their sight, and slacking his horse's speed, Clarence said, ‘Mabel, I Lavo something to say to you; soniothiimyghat will influence my whole futumble. * Can you guess what it ih?’ A look of surprise came over the fair listener's face, ami she* said, ‘indeed, Clarence, lean think of'nothing yon could say to me of such great import ance.’ ‘lt is this,’ and hiswfacc flushed, and *his voieft was low with emotion;,‘l love you, Mabel; have loved you deeply, pas sionately, since I first saw you. you be my wife?’ ‘Ob, Clarence, I can not! I am so sor ry!’ Andtbemaideu covered .her face with her hands. a. ‘Oh, Mabel, give me some .hope; do not cast rm*off without a hope of win ning your lover he pleaded. keaunot! 1 l ave no right! A strange look came into Claranca Lament’s eyes, but in a moment it was gone, and ho said, ‘Oh, Mabel, why do yon thus repulse my love? Why can you not bid me hope?’ ‘Never can I be aught to you but a friend, Clarance, and a friend I al ways be.’ Again that strange look came over his face, and an evil light shone in his eyes, as he hissed through his set teeth, 'Mabel, you have trifled with me. You have w*n the heart of a true man, and now you throw it from you. Beware!’ ‘No, Clarance, 1 have not trifled with yon, the mo den’s voice was clear and steady now; lam betrothed to another. ‘1 have Tbywords died upon his lips, for the sharp ring of hoofs caused him to look tip, and he saw, coming toward them at a terrific pace, a horse—riderless, at fust he thongllt—bat as it came nearer, lie saw ttie form of a man half thrown from'' the saddle, yet clinging to the al most flying steed. Oil heavens! (be bridge—the bridge!’ uind Malt I’s voice rang out in a wild, despairing cry. One glance and Clar ence saw the cause of Mabel’s alarm; ■the bridge was g. no, washt.’<L»\> ay Jjy the angry waters; and its placeu yawn ing abyss far too wide for a horse t" leap, and toward this the frightened -teed was coming at fearful leaps. On, on, came the horse, panting with terror and exertion, till it stood upon the very blink of the chasm; and then with a moment’s hesitation upon the bank, thejiJer strove to disengage himself froiWws doomed steed; liutyt was ton late, and with a wild cry, l lvjrled into the abyss. " Mute with suspense, the two riders sat Stricken dumb with fear until the in stant that the frightened steed hesitated upon the I rink of the abyss; and then, as both recognized the doomed rider, Mabel slushed: ~ ‘Oh. r.’fest, Enlist!’ One 1: ok at thrinaiden’r ag ru'zed face, and ClartncE had read her secret, and an evil sinister gl#w lit up his counte nance. ’Oh, Clarance, save him, save him! and the maiden laid her hand upon hi ann, and looked pleadingly up into his face. With one spring Ciaranco had reached the edge of the chasm, and gazed anx iously down into the roaring waters; and tlien lie saw the half submerged body ot Ernest Ilalsted desperately cling ing to a part of the bridge that remain ed in the midst of the angry torrent. His wicked heart gave a triumphant bound as he thus recognized the deadly peril of his rival; and turning to mab' l, who stood irute with terror by the side of her passive steed,-ho hoarsely whis pered : •Mabel, I will save him on one condi tion, and that is ,’ iWhnt, what? Oh, Clarence, speak quickly?’ ‘Promise to be my wife?’ ‘I can not, I can not! Do not torture me thus. Save him, I command you?’ ‘Promise, and I will.’ ‘I can not!’ , ‘Tlnuehe shall die!’ and he turned fier cely r.wNf. ‘Oh, Clarance,,do not leave him! Save him, save aave hitnl“ Triumphant now, Clarance quickly detached the bridle from his horse, and with one look at Mabel, advanced until he stood upon the brink of the chasm; and then leaning far over, he flung the reigns down to the drowning man. Ea gerly he grasped them, and citing with all his declining strength to the timely succor. ‘Remember your promise!’ Criedular ence, as he tarried for an instant toward the maiden, and then again bent to bis task. Bat, suddenly, with a wild cry, lie cast the bridle far from him, arid sprang backward. But it was too lute; the bank on which he stood, already loosen ed from its base by the foaming torrent siid forward into the seething waters, burying beneath it the body of Clarauce Lament. Another shriek came from the maiden's iips but she did not faint. Nerved by fear, she sprang forward and gazed eag erly down into the chasm; and there saw her lover manfully struggling with the waves, but still clinging to the lirillc. When Clarence tossed the bridle from him, it caught upon a low bush that grew upon the bank; and toward this the maiden turned with a cry of j iy. i Grasping it, she exerted i ll her strength to aid her lover, and not in vain; fur j s-'O:) tl e strain ceased, and in another instant Ernest Hoisted had clambered to HERE Stertfr JT ql E HESS THE PEOPLE'3 RIGHTS MAINTAINSI, AWED BYFEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN. -•QUITMAN, GEO., JUNE 23. IS7I. the and stood upon the bank beforiW^^^. M she mtirmcred; and Uien descried her, and wile s'mkrlTWhe cjrlff Pale and wealt \fcith bis exertions, her •lover In-nt over her and gently raised her progtrate forir*JqJiis bosom. Then as she slowly opeiitff her eyes, he,whis pei uA Darling Mabel, to you 1 owe my iifcJßaOok up dearest!’ A sweet smile was bis answer, and bending his head, he pressed a Wisll up on her pale cheek. t ‘Clurenoe, where are you? cried (he voice of Louise at this moment; and in another instant the two girls rode ‘Why, Mabe, what is the matter ? Where is my' brother?' was the startled inquiry of Louise, as with sudden alarm she sprang from her horse and hurried forward. , Soon the story was told; and with pale grief-stained facts tliejlittlo party procoeded homewu rd. It was late that day ere (he body of Clarence Lament was recovered; and when tie was laid in the tomb, none wept more deeply than his gentle cousin. Three months after, there was n quiet wedding at the handsome country seat in Dorsetshire; anti there is no need to tell who were tho two that were then made one. Never, not even to her husband, has Mabel told the story of her promise at the bridge; but, burying it in the past, she remembers it only as the one fault of her unforroiiale cousin. TLe Fool ami tiie Highwayman. Never heard of Edmond OTlanlon' the Irish highway robber? Well, that's surprising. Your English Turpins and French Duvals couldn’t hold a candle to our highway man. Bat for all his shrewd ness he met his match once, and I’ll tell you how it was : I Redmond was a fine, strapping, gen i tlem irily h How, and a devoted admirer Jof the ladies —as where is the Irishman that is not? and what is more, a friend to the poor; asyo-i’ll admit when 1 tell you that his demurds for cash were only made on persons who could well afford to meet ll cm, and that he delighted in forcing contributions from these who had the name of hard landlords to their tenants. There was one of this who Redmond never lost an opporlnijjty of taxing §f: r that, was tee polite name be gave to- nis own robberies. Every qna'er-day, this gentleman, or ond ol his servants— more Gian one, iisei| to of si*or seven (TiiicS*t.o collect his rents, and ns regular as clockwork there was Redmond O’llan lon, with some stout companions if nee o.-oyujL to waylay the collector as bo home. Every means was used to elude biro, but to no purpose, lie had spies everywhere, and contrived to get" the exact information lie needed in ud\unco. So one qunrterday, when the gentle man's servants asked him about going for.the rents, he swore at O Hanlon, and said lie didn’t see the us i of collecting money to hand - over to him. Now this gentleman bad on his estate a boy called “Jerry the Fool,” who had the run of the house and made fun for the family. ITo had a great conceit for himself, and when he heard what the master said, ho immediately asked to he allowed to go after the rents for once, and declared lie would know the way t' bring them safe home. Os coarse ho was only laughed at; but when he rep resented that no harm would come from Dying, as he couldn’t do worse than a!' who had gone before him, tho master agreed to homnr him. Upon that, Jerry made such preparations as lie thought suitable, chose the worst horse in the stable—an old back half blind and three quarters lame—and started on his enter prise. Nothing occurred on the way. He collected a considerable amount of money, carefully disposed it about his person, and started homeward. Toward evening, as he was quietly jogging along on the old hack, and wes just en tering u long lane with high l edges on each side, a tall, fine-looking man rode up to him on a handsome roan mare. ‘God gave you, my maul’ says the! gentleman. ‘God save your honor?’ replied Jerry.! ‘What’s your name, rny man?’ asked ; the and I ain't ashamed! of it. What’s yours?, The gentleman took no notice of the question. After a while ho says, ‘That’s , a fine animal you’re riding, 'Jerry?’ ‘Faith, I’m glad your honor likes it,’: said Jerry;‘bat it isn’t myself thift’d j care to take a lease of his life, fiat he’d serve my torn anyway, for it’s not in a hurry I’m traveling—l’ve only been to the village beyond to collect the mas- j tei ’» rents for him.’ ‘Surely he's not such a fool as to trust j you with that job?’ ‘Arrah, why riot?’ ; asks Jerry, in great surprise. ‘Why, don’t you know that Redmond O’Hanlon’s on this road?’ ‘Redmond O’Hanlon, is it,’ says Jerry. ‘Ugh! that tor Redmond O'Hanlon!'says he, snapping his fingers. ‘Faix, Jerry the fool is a match for half a dozen the likes ' shim, any day in tho week, and Sunday into the bargain!’ The stranger laughed, and then rode on in silence, tiil they came to a very lonely part in ttie road, when he drew a brace of pistols, and to'd Jerry to hand lover all the money lie hark- about him, or he’d try il he had any bruins by send- ing a couple of bullets through bis head. ‘Meala Murthor!’ roars Jcary, in a tone of surprise and fright. 'Yon don't mean to say your honor’s O’Hanlon?’ ‘I do, indeed. So hand over, my man, and look sharp about it.’ But, faix, it’s kilt entirely by tho mas ter I’ll be if I go borne without the rint.’ 'What’s that to mi V said O'llanlon. "‘Anyhow,’said Jerry, ‘I must show* "hem had a murdering tight for it. Perhaps your honor would’nt mine firing a shot through my old beaver. ’ O’llan ,loii did so, laughing at tho trick. ‘And now another tlirongMJie breast of my coal, and Heaven (Tless you.’ was done. ‘Now, just one in the skirt of it, and good luck to your hon or.’ ‘But I’ve discharged both my pistols, and dim't wan^Lj^auible of loading thi'ii^nuiii like a shot through tho skirt; it would show I fought desperate. Are you sure your honor hasn’t, another pistol in your pock et that you wouldn't mind filing for a poor hoy’s sake?’ ‘Confound you 1 To be sure 1 liavn’t. Hand over the money, or I’ll beat you to jelly with my horsewhip.’ ‘Well,’says Jerry, after a good deal fumbling, ‘1 suppose, considering the trouble I've had collecting-tlieso rents, your honor won’t tho litTrc bother of going over thr hedge after them?' And lie threw over a suck, apparent ly filled with coin. Half laughing, halt angry, the highwayman—first aiming at Jerry with, his whip, which ho avoided by docking—dismounted, and climbed over the hedge, ami no sooner bad he done so than Jei ry slipped off tiie old hack and mounted OTlanlon's horse. ‘lbid scran to you, Redmond O’Han lon! ho bawled. Didn’t 1 tell you Jerry the Fool was a match for a dozen of yon? It's a sack of brass buttons you’re gone over the hedge after, you thief of the world!’ And touching the fine mare with the spur, he galloped ofl singing at tho top of his voico the old melody, to the mischief and shake yoursellT O’Hatilnn could not puisne him on the hack; (fie cu'e f and had made him diw-* charge his pistol-. There was nothing for it but to walk a way, cursing- Wsewu stupidity; and ever after, if any one wanted to provoke him, they had only to a-K him when lie had last si on Jerry the Foil. Tim Lost Kim; . A correspondent of. the Boston Tnnwllur, writing fruit St. Jolt i's, Newfoundland, says: Ah I am on the subject of curiosities, I may mention that I v.us shown the, other ,hfy, by a gentleman here, a plain gold ring, to which a curious history at taches. A fisherman of Trinity Bay, on opening the of a codfish one day hist summer, found in it, to his astonish* ment, this ring. It is rather massive, and on the inside are engraved the words, “God abov continent? our love.” Judging by tbe orthography of this mot to, one would bo inclined to conclude that the l ing must be at least a couple of centuries old; but then it may boa modern engraving of an ancient line, the spelling being left unaltered. Perhaps some of your readers may bo able to point to the authorship of tho motto.— But the question is, where did the cod fish pick it up? Was the golden circlet placed on some fair taper finger before tiie altar - the blushing, trembling bride, half tears, half smile, holding up her hand to receive the emblem of plighted affliction, on which her fond lover lias got inscribed the motto, “G id abov con tinew our love?” I) and some years ol happy wedded life follow, and then did a terrible calamity close the scene? We picture ourselves a storm in the wiidjAt- lantic—a sinking ship—a husband arid wife clasped in one another’s arms go ing down into the “dark nnlatliomed caves of the ocean” —pale and ghastly they are laid on the floor of the great deep, tin: tangled sea weed is onterlwin ed with the long, fair hair. The deli cate hand becomes the prey of fishes, and the golden circlets finds a resting place in the maw of tho all-devouring cod. Strange destiny! But stranger still, the ring is drawn with the fish into ! the boat of the fisherman, and is now a cariosity in the hands ol strangers! Who knows but were the tale I have told widely circulated on the wings of press it iriifgliV meet the eye of some sur viving relative of the wearer, who could identify it l>y the unusual motto, and to whom it would be unspeakably precious. I am in a position to guarantee tho truth of lhe story. The evidence is con clusive that it was found as I have des ciibed; and the strong possibility is that ft came from tho wreck of some unfortu nate vessel that perished near these shores, or perhaps far oat in the [Atlan tic. A blushing damsel called at one of the agencies the other day to buy a sewing machine, ‘Do yon want a fellow?’ in quired the modest clerk in attendance, the ingenious maid replied with some asperity.—‘No sir! 1 have one.’ A Kansas City husband gave liis wife S4OO to buy Christmas presents for herself. She selected a young clerk and two railroid tickets. Why is an old maid tike a dried up lemon? Because she ought to bate been squeezed, but wasn’t. Mwvrmfn. Gotesborg, May 8, 1871. > J/rwsrs. Robinson if- Branch, Attorneys at Law,Greensboro, Ga; Genti.kmkn : Yon are well uwaro ot my journey to Sweden. 1 have been here four weeks, and have traveled a [good deal through the country, and in fut'med th'e people of my intended busi ness. I can say that lam able fokfill any amount of orders with people outlie or single. 1 tilnk plica!ions from twemv 'people who wish to comeWßfpSiir conn* ton tho terms I have proposed. Sweden is growing worse jw for tho work ing classes. They wish to leave here by the million, if they only had the means. Why should not tho people,in Georgia, who need laborers and ho'#! 6 * servants, patronjg— the and get people of the proper kind into their dour coun try? lam now well acquainted with the business. All the officers on the lino aro very anxious that 1 should suc ceed, and will do all they can in my fa vor. 1 have promised a great many of tny friends to return next lull and help them over to Georgia, which I hope I shall be able to do. I feel now a greater interest than ever in my coun try people, and shall do everything in my power to bring as many as possible away from here. I know the country where they can make an honorable liv ing by work—hero they cannot. lam badly disappointed this trip. I had a promise of ab ut one hundred and fitly orders, but only received thirteen. After I come to Georgia, I shall re turn to Sweden about the Ist of Sep tember, provided I can get a number of orders, and will bo back about of December. I leave hero for XloW York on the lOtii of May, hoping To be at Monticello, Ga., about the 15th of June. 1 have a few days here yet, and will take some more trips iu the country, to find, ifpussiSle, some who can pay their own passage and go with Tue. Yours, very truly, J. Foss. How to Get a Dinner. A party who traveled about extensive- Jy was "-really perplexed to Understand how it was that oli.ei persons were wai t and upon, promptly and well drived at the hotels, while lie was most entirely ignored, and could scarcely obtain a square meal, compl tin and to swear at the waiters as he might At hist his eyes were opened to the dodge of fooling tho waiter’s liberality, and being of an ingt nious turn of mind,Ye determined Bjniprovc on the pi *l7to next hotel ho dined at, he took his seat pompously at the ttable, and pulled out a well fi'-led pocket .book, extracted therefrem a toil dollar bill, which ho laid on the white cloth beside his plate, and placed his goblet upon it. In an instant, almost, he was stir*! rounded by waiters, who seemed to vie' with each other in attentions. Every wish was anticipated, and all the deli cacies of the kitchen and *J)antry were set before him iiFD mpting array. Having fared as sumptuously as a prince (to the envy of the other guests,) iio took up the greenback and beckoned to the nearest waiter, when ho was bo seiged by a halfd>zm. Holding tho bill in one hand, he pointed to it with the other, and inquired of tho crowd: ‘ ‘Du you see that bill?' ‘Oil yes, sir!’ they all exclaimed in a chorus. ‘Then take a good look at it,’ he re plied,'for yon will never see it again.’ Saying which ho pocketed the money and departed, leaving the waiters a ghast. Bea Max. —Foolish spending is the father ol poverty. Do not bo .ashamed of hard work. Work for ttie best sala ries or wages you can get, but work for half price rather than bo idle. Bo your own master, and do not let society of : fashion swallow up your individuality— hat, coat and boots. Di not out up or wear out all that you earn. Compel your selfish body to spare something far profits saved. B> stingy to your own appetite, but, merciful to necessities. Help others, and ask no help for your self. See that y proud. Let your pride boos the right kind, Bu too proud to be lazy; too proud to givo up without conquering every difficulty; too proud to wear a coat you cannot affu'd to buy; too proud to bo in company that I you cannot keep Rp with in expenses; ! too proud to lie, or steal, or cheat; too ! proud to be stingy. A Sure cure for lings of all kinds upon plants and vegetables, is to make a thin white-wash—say a pint ol slack lime to a pailful of water —and sprinkle it through a watering can over the vines. It will, without fail, kill potato bugs, cut worms, or anything of that kind, Blessed are they to whom people go j when they are in distress! Blessed art j they around whom little children flock l| Blessed aro they that are cared fur by men when they are in extremities and; emergencies! Blessed aro they upon i whom grateful eyes look, saying, “Come ; again: I am better for your coming.” A young bachelor in Jersey City was urged to many, but he. replied: ‘1 don’t roc it. My father was a single man, and he always gal along well enough.'; Annum, N*o. 25 Iv a iv lu x Allnck ou n Metro Clnircli. . ' ttlKl. Tho Americas (On.) ,Kepiibfifflwha* the following : A drunken negro sluj|u bled into n Colored prdJßjr, mccting'.gSj few nights since, while tion was kneeling, nnd in hunting alwJB for a seat fell heavily on a 'brother ,-eJljw suddenly starting up, yelled out “{flr KlfxP'nnd in one bound went through tho window. On an instant the congrc- Ration was in the greatest confusion. The woni«u shouted, screamed and pray ed - f the ok a yelled and fought, striking anything,and anybody near them. Tho lights were put out through the melee, arid the house was emptied as speedily *l‘ < H|iiffi'i£uted darkies could disen - tangle themselves and gc.b.put, except tho drunken wretch who Tad been tram* pled upon and knocked about until tie was nearly sense'ess. As soon as it became quiet lie got up and made a dash for the door and was soon hurrying homeward. On tho way ho mot some gentlemen, to whom ho said: “Tho damn Ku Kluxers come down to church jess now, and kilt about twenty-five, and whipped tho winrmen and diiv us all out. They skint me all over with great big knives, and my bones ain't got a bit of meat on 'em. Uis poor dcflictcd chile is a dead nigger," and ho went staggering homeward. Best Mnile of Advertising. The best and cheapest mode of ad Vet's Using in the world is that in the news-- papers. Every successful advertiser will say this. Seed strewn there, if the seed is good for anything always brings up a crop of some value, most netted fold* Placarding the dead* .and showering tho handbills among the people are auxiliaries in ad-, vert siug; but it is doubtful whether, as a rule, they-murc than pay the expense’, while there is no doubt they are a nui« sauce. The blankest of dead walls is only disfigured by posters, provoking, in the welT-eeginftU'd mind, a sense of aversion to the man who advertises, an tf* tiie articles upon - excellence ho expiates; while as to handballs, nothing so prejudices n citizen against going to sen any show or buyingmny, goods, art the ugly slips of paper thrust at him from all quarters, eloquently recommend ing him to do those tilings. s\iTF.crixo IxcinF.XT.—Little Mamie, just three years old, was dying. lUta last, but one o"f six lovely little lambs, who had Iven gatmfered into the bosom of the Good Shepherd, safe, forever safe, from a touch of sorrow or a throb of pain. Just before, her grandfather* a noble minister, had 'passed over the riv er,' through the eternal gate, and eutef ed into rest, 'You will soon see Grandpa, darling/ said the fond watcher. O r ou aro going (o heaven.* ‘Yes, I know/ was the quick repiy. ‘I am too little to open the dour, f can’t reach it; hut Grandpa wiil opcu the door for mel’ Ah! the good Lord lias already opened tho door for his own little angel, and permitted her to catch a glimpse of tho sweet saintly face she had loved so Well, and which awaited to welcome her homo forever, Makixo Proci.r ITaitv, —Some inert move through life as a band of nfiUSic) moves down tho street, flinging out pleasure on every side through the nit* to every one, far and near, that can iis-* ten; some men fill the air with the'f strength and sweetness as orchards in October days fill the air with ripe fruit. Some women e'ing to their own houses like the honeysuckle over the door, yet like it, fill the region with the Subtle fragrance of their goodness. lloW great a bounty and blessing is it so to hold the royal gifts of the soul that they shall bo music to some and fragrance to i others, and life to all ! It would bo no unworthy thing to live for, to make tho l power which wo have within us tho breath of other men’s joy' to fill the at-* mosphem which they must stand ind j with a brightness which they caunott ! croate for themselves. ‘This world is all a fleeting show/ said a priest, to a culprit on tie gallows.—- ‘Yes,’ waivthe prompt reply, ‘but if yoo have no objection, I’d like, to see th« show a little longer.’ Some of the papers are calling the at-* tention of the woman-suffrage women to this, which a Delaware man writes i T sliw a ben Sunday, that is a gay old chicken—half bantam, She used to /ay eggs and batch them during the first five years of her life. She then ceased to lay—chang' and her manner and looks to those of a rooster, and now crows for and y and all day, lights the other roo»v tcis, and in ites with the h ns. It is estimated that there are 255,000 tin-' bhiug machines in the United Ot. tja ..wi.hout ecu ting the “school mar mu. *