Newspaper Page Text
by s. b. craiton.
SANDERSYILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, AUGUST 10, 1852.
YOU. YI—NO. 29.
THE CENTRAL GEORGIAN
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The sale of Personal Property must be ad
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tate irust be published forty days.
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All letters on business must be vosl-paid
turning abruptly from the glittering fields of
POETRY.
HIIUM LIFE.
Our lives are like the ceaseless flow
Of rivers, to the mighty sea;
Swift hurrying past each scene they go
To mingle with Eternity*
And man is like some gallant bark.
By the restless current borne
To that dread ocean, from wiiose dark,
And untried border none return,
Of all the myriads that before
Have gone its counteless hosts to swell,
Not one has from that tidelcss shore
Come back their history to tell!
The stream rolls on—bjit where are those
It bore but yesterday ?—the wept—
The loved; their freight of joys or woes ?
Oblivion’s wave o’er all has swept.
Our life is but a vapor dark,
A morning mist, that skyward borne
Is seen no more a meteor spark,
One moment flashing bright—and gone
The vapor fades—even while we gaze
It melts into the viewless air ;
The transient meteor’s dazzling blaze
But makes the gloom it leaves : more
drear.
Tho’ youths bright sun with rainbow light
May arch the distant future o’er,
’Tis early shrouded from our sight
By manhood’s clouds—to shine no moie.
Mid mournful memories—hopes, betrayed
And vain regrets our days are passed,
’Till in Earth’s sheltering bosom laid,
Forgetfulness is won at last!
Our life is like the desert bleak
Wide spread o’er Afric’s burning soil—
We wander through it taint and weak.
Harrassed by want and faint with toil!
If whilst, some freshly verdant spot
Amid the arid waste appears,
Whose loveliness is ne’er forgot.
How soon’tis veiled by grief and tears!
We strive—foP'-what ? to build a name
O’er which the sands ot time will creep,
And leave no place for empty fame ;
For triumphs; where we ought to weep,
As the mirage, whose treacherous ray
But mocks the traveler’s straining eye,
Even love and hope soon pass away
And leave us thirsting, faint—to die.
Life’s spring time hues are faint, but grief
Their Eden beauties early gone ;
An angel steals on with autumn leaf*
Sad scentless, desolate and lone,
Though hanly when their mates are dead,
Some few pale fading flow’rets wave;
There is the mournful fragrance, shed
From roses blooming round the grave.
Oh! who to linger here can feel
A wife, condemned with bosom torn
Beside the shattered wreck to kneel
Of all he loved; and vainly mourn—
When, heir of sorrow from his birth,
To man this blessed hope is given—
Tho’ doomed to strife and toil on earth,
There’s rest, peace, and joy ; in Heaven.
while, Hyalcides, separated from a party of
science, art and foreign conquest, to plunge savage hurters, on the wide Sahara, rainib
amid the dreary and protracted horrors of
a Peloponnesian conflict. Two years had
that disgraceful struggle raged, when a
pestilence the most virulent and awful that
ever prowled in a great metropolis, desola
ted the wretched capital of Attica. In eve
ry mauson of afflicted Athens, lay putrid
corpses which there was no hand to bury.—
Pericles, himself, surrounded by the lifeless
forms of his wife, his sons and daughters,
the blackened victims of the grim destroy
er, was sinking in the latest throes of ex
hausted nature, when a few dejected rela
tives of the dying ruler, were seen to launch
a solitary Trireme in the horbor of the
Piraeus, and bear away to the fertile island
of Euboea, taking with them Olynthia, the
infant daughter of Pericles and his stripling
son, Hyalcides, the last relics which the re
lentless plague had spared. The pensive
party had nearly reached their sea-girt place
of refuge, when a sudden tempest arising,
swe^t them far beyond the island, and the
heavy surges dashed into splinters, their
fragile oars. Rapidly, were they borne east
ward for several days, until they beheld the
romantic cluster of the Sporades, lifting
their green tops above the waves of the
AEgean. The wind now changing and ils
violence abating, they were slowly and
steadily wafted toward the southwest.
Meanwhile, the latent seeds of pestilence?
developed by the powerful rays of a sum
mer sun, began to appear in the melancholy
group. One by one, did that little com
pany parish, far from medical relief, upon
the wide lone bosom of the Mediterranean,
until the defenceless orphans of the great
eulogist of Marathon’s brave patriots alone,
left upon the treacherous deep.—
Slowly did the unguided galley glide, for
many days, bearing over the trackless wa
ters its precious freight—that forlorn Greek
boy and his infant sister.
At length the roaring summit of AEtna,
heaving its masses of lurid smoke into the
blackened sky, gave token that the magni
ficent island of Sicily was nigh. Soon, how
ever, did its noble mountains vanish from
sight, as the freshening gale bore the help
less voyagers toward the coast of Africa.
And now the tears of young Hyalcides
flowed afresh and bitterly, as livid spots
upon the cheek of little Olynthia indicated
led for months afar from his cavern home
in the jungles of Mauritania, subsisting on
the scanty thistle of the desert, and the
crystal rill that gushed from the bosom of
an occasional Oasis, and finally reached the
capitol of Egypt—the splendid Alexandria.
There the thrilling narrative of his suffer
ings during the ten years which had elaps
ed since he had left his native country, and
the disclosure of his relationship to the
greatest chief which Greece in its prime of
glory, had produced—the renowned
Pericles—aroused for him a lively interest
in the breast of a celebrated emigrant from
Greece—the philosopher Anaxagoras. Un
der the tutorage of that enthusiastic de
votee of science and letters, the brilliant
genius he had inherited from his father un
folded fast; and at the end of five years he
found himself the object of almost idola-
trious admiration, on the part of the Egyp
tian nobility, and particularly of the young
and gifted Prince Ptolemy, with whom he
had been daily associated in the eager pur
suit of learning. His academic career liav
ing closed, Hyalcides and Ptolemy set sail
in an elegant galley, intending to visit the
most distinguished capitols of Asiatic Greece
Entering the Hellespont, and ascending to
Byzantiun, the tour of the ardent young
Greek was suddenly arrested by serious dis
ease. While languishing in that luxurious
city, he was visited by the sage Bion, who,
conceiving a strong attachment for the no
ble sufferer, conveyed him to his own villa,
where he might breathe an air more salubri
ous than Byzantiun could afford. There
enjoying,* daily, the converse of the great
philosopher, and the smiles of his facinating
daughter, the amiable and gifted Olynthia,
he became rapidly convalescent. But re
turning health had scarcely kindled again
in his fine eye, its wonted beam of noble
ness and benevolence, and thrown into his
enchanting voice its winning tones, when
he perceived that the heart of the young
Asiatic maiden was all his own. Nor w r as
the gift unwelcome to the generous son of
Pericles
At the sacred altar of Hymen, they as
sumed the ties of wedded love, amid the
tears and glad Emotions of the aged Bion,
and surrounded by a circle of the philoso
pher’s choicest literary friends ; and not till
had nurtured them.
MISCELLANEO US.
ORIGINAL.
[for THE CENTRAL GEORGIAN.]
OLYNTHIAs
A TALE.
During the palmiest days of Grecian
story, there dwelt at Athens, a statesman,
distinguished alike for the versatility of his
talents and the lustre of his fortune. That
statesman was the accomplished and elo
quent Pericles. Though descended from
aristocratic sires, he heartily adopted the
fortunes of the masses of the Athenian peo
ple : and while yet the freshness of youth
and the ardor of unblighted ambition and
hope were present, found himself borne on
an overwhelming tide of popularity, to an
enviable position at the helm of the might
iest naval Republic of antiquity. It was
during the ascendancy of this gifted chief
that the dark and troubled tragedy, wh
-assumed ■ one of
-presenting the humilia-
, , , I the joyous nuptials were completed, did
tlmt the fatal disease had laid ! Hyalcides and Olynthia learn, through a
on her delicate rame. in J . I casual reference of the lovely bride, to that
day and night beside the drooping bane, i ^ Mediterranean voyage, that the same
until the agonies of the mortal hour seemed f ree a ; r 0 f Greece had fanned thei r infant
at hand. Then spying a point of land, jut-1 cheeks, and that the same maternal breast
ting from the African continent, far into the
calm sea, and doubting whether he should
ever again be wafted so near the shore, he
dropped a final tear upon the brow of the
dying Olynthia, impressed a lingering kiss
upon her purple lips, and plunging into the
tranquil wave, gained the coast of a foreign
land. Advancing along the tangled beach,
he spied a swarthy Mauritanian of fierce
and stern appearance. Addressing the un
couth savage, he found him acquainted with
the Attic language, and learned that he
had once been a Captive at Athens, and a
slave in the family of Pericles. The rugged
barbarian conducted the weeping lad to his
home—a gloomy cavern in a wild and
frowning precipice, and there for years af-
foided him such rude hospitalities as his
simple life could furnish.
Olynthia, meanwhile, drooped long upon
the critical verge of life, and while yet her
feeble lungs continued to play, was gently
drifted under the sighings of a soft zephyr,
upon the coast of Asia Minor. Near the
mouth of Thracian Bosphorus, stood a ma
jestic villa of snow-white Parian marble,
deeply shaded by a spacious grove of ven
erable and towering palms—a genial haunt
for philosophy and letters. That sequest
ered and beautiful villa, looking down from
its imposing height upon the crystal mil i or
of the Mediterranean, was the residence of
an illustrious exile from Grecian soil—a sage
famed for his wisdom—the gifted Bion. As
the thoughtful philosopher wandered on the
beach, in the twi-light of a calm and love
ly eve, the boat in which the wasted skele
ton of Olynthia lay, was borne by the whis
pering breeze, to his feet. The wondering
sage felt his deepest sympathies awake, as
he°gazed on the unconscious, yet breathing
babe. She slowly recovered. Years pass
ed on, and found her the adopted and ten
derly beloved daughter of the childless
Bion. The bloom of the virgin was on her
soft fair cheek. The loveliest graces of spirit
and manners adorned her. Intelligence,
culture and benovelence flashed in her fine
Doubtful Theology.
A friend, whom we shall call Pat “for
short,” tells a good one upon himself.—
When but an idle boy, he was called up
on one day in a country school, and the
question suddenly propounded to him by
the pedagogue, “Patrick, how many Gods
are theie ?”
Pat was not a distinguished theolgian
then, and years have made him “no better
very fast” in such matters—but he prompt
ly responded, “three, sir.”
“Take your seat:” thundered the master,
“and if in five minutes you don’t answer
correctly, I’ll welt you.”
The probationary period passed, and Pat
taking the floor hesitatingly stated the
number of Gods at “fi-five si r.” He re
ceived the promised “welting,” and a re
mand to his seat for ten minutes further
consideration.
Ten minutes up, and Pat was up t<5o, and
satisfied that he had fixed the number suf
ficiently high he shouted, “There are ten,
sir.” He saw the ferule descending and
bolting out of the door, cleared a five rail
fence, and broke like a quarter horse across
the fields. Panting with exertion, he met
a boy with a book under his arm, and with
the look of one who desired the pursuit of
knowledge under difficulties.
“Where are you going ?’’ said Pat.
“To school yonder,” was the reply.
“You are, are you,” said Pat quickly,
“how many Gods are there ?”
“Two,” answered the boy.
“Well, you’d better go there. Y 7 ou’ll
have a good time with your two Gods—I
just left there with ten, and that wan’t
enough to save me from the darn’dest lick
ing you ever heard of.— Cleveland Herald.
A Faithful Captain.—A few years since
two steamers were having a race up the
Mississippi, and one of the captains had
crowded on all the steam he could raise,
by burning tar, hams, boards, etc., when he
“bust his biler.” The Captain was himself
at the wheel when the explosion took place:
his steamer was blown into a thousand pie
ces, but he “stuck to the helmhis wheel
and himself went flying through the air for
half a mile or more, when he finally came
down, dropping, with the wheel of the boat,
through the roof of a little shanty, occupi
ed by a shoemaker. St. Crispen’s son look
ed with astonishment at the captain, who
stood erect by before him, with his hands
^firmly clenched to the wheel, and coolly
remarked:
“Well, stranger, you’re takin’ considera
ble libei ty, when you enter a man’s shop in
that manner.”
“Oh, that’s nothing! what’s the dam
age ?” asked the captain;
The shoemaker looked at the hole in the
roof of the shop and then answered,
“Ten dollars!”
“Ten devils!” exclaimed the captain.
“Now stranger, I’ve an idea that you are
setting the price a thundering sight too
high, for this is the fortieth time I’ve done
the same thing and you are the only man
who ever charged me over five.”
odd how these
substituted
ac-
melting eye. , ,
The proudest Princes of Asiatic Greece
The Supplementals.
Who are they ?—What are they?—
What are they after ?—Where will they
land ?
1st. They are not Democrats; if they
were there would be no need of their divi
ding the Democratic party to form a new
Ticket. They are not Whigs; for they re
fuse to vote for the Whig nomination, or
any other Whig nomination, They are not
Union men; for both National Parties are
now Union Parties, and they are going
their death against one of them, and try
ing to split and divide the other. They are
nothing more nor leilfe than a discontented
faction who are so fond of agitation the
very thing to put down which the Union
party was formed—that they must needs
trv to form a sectional party to take the
place of the defunct fire-eaters in order, for
sooth, to save their scalps from falling into
the hands of these same fire-eaters.
2nd. W T hat are they ?—They are not the
people, nor of the people; they are a set of
defunct leaders of all parties, who like rot
ten bell-weathers have strayed from their
flocks and go about bleating and rattling to
each other—>a sorry gang !
3rd. What are they after?—This ques
lion is well nigh answered in the two pro
ceeding. They are not after quieting agi
tation,°as they'are the only agitators now
in the South. They are not in good faith
after giving to Pierce and King the vote of
Georgia, as the only way in which that
could be done, if at all, would be to har
monize and not divide the Democratic par
ty. They are not after giving the vote to
Scott and Graham; for the wav to do
that would be to vote for them. To be
short then, they are after forming a sec
tional party to ape the exploits of Abolition
ists at the North, who cast their influence
now in this scale—now in that, as the pro
mise of loaves and fishes may indicate. .
4th. Where will they land ?—They will
either march under the banner of the
“Southern Press” at Washington—who
still keeps ensigns of agitation and disuion
floating at its mast head—into a new cru
sade against the peace; and safety of the
Unton, or they will land, in November nexty
in the shades of retirement, never to be
heard of again forever.
Reader, which will it be ? It is not for
us to answer, but for the people to say.—
nta Rejmbtican.
The Post Office Department-
Revenue and Cost -of the Mails in each
State —The statistics below will be of in.
terest to our readers. In some States, the
transportation of the mails is a large tax
upon the country, but in the aggregate, the
plan is a grand one, which secures us con
nexion with all parts of the Union, without
reference to the cost of getting the letter in
to the particular State or family, where it
is directed. . The Free States which have
much commerce and manufactures, of
course, yield revenues, while in the Slave
States, where agriculture is the main ele
ment, the correspondence is comparatively
small, and so becomes a tax—Sav. Rep.
The.following is a Statemenlof Ike net Re
venue arising from Letter Postages,
Newspapers, (6c., and the amount credit
ed contractors for the transportation of
Mails in the several States and Territo
ries for the fiscal year ended, 99th June‘
1851.
STATES & TERITO’S REVENUE
transpor’n
Maine,
New Hampshire,
$89,661 92
$52,645
89,902 2q
30,277
Vermont,
58,965 44
52,817
Massachusetts,
39,328 34
12,356
Rhode Island,
39,328 34
12,356
Connecticut,
110,971 81
66,328
New York,
932,997 81
382,76*5
New Jersey,
56,156 20
60,75-1
Pennsylvania,
396,699 91
172,800
Delaware,
12i521 38
9,280
Maryland,
Dis. of Columbia
121,864, 61
11,109 45
163,333
Virginia,
North Carolina,
141,579 13
175,086
4.6,647 07
154,929
South Carolina,
76,108 62
108,555
Georgia,
101,749 42
150,066
Florida,
13,793 24
32,366
Ohio,
286,311 24
238,101
Michigan
62,387 69
77,965
Indiana,
83,638 03
88,284
lillinois,
115,184 52
164,653
Wisconsin, -
60,725 34
40,104
Iowa,
27,568 86
27,455
Missouri,
83,787 85
131,406
Kentucky,
86,472 49
157,911
Tennessee,
64,165 86
81,879
Alabama^,
75,937 75
142,624
Mississippi,
55,536 01
93,172
Arkansas,
17,215 53
68,372
84*765
Louisiana,
116,936 06
28,474 12
123,244
C|p&rnia,
227,152 82
130,280
19,828
Oregon,
3,282 54
teibto,
New Mexico,
1,874 13
243 68
1,578
Utah,
Nebraska
718 90
25 17
Mr. pipp's Aunt on the Mississippi.-—
We met Mr. Pipps. It was not in a crowd.
He was much agitated. One side of his
shirt collar was down. The other had a
Tower of Pisa inclination. We advised bin*
to brace it and his disordered nerves. He
followed our advice. He braced—in other
words, he miut-juleped. We entered an ex
planation of his agitation. He gave it,, viz:
Sir, an old virago of an aunt of mine has
beeu hug-gravating roe for the last forty-five
minutes and twelve seconds in the most mer
ciless style. She has stuck me l.ke a plas
ter on a patient. She has drawn blisters,
sir, on my patience. Said she—•“Pipps,”
says she—“Pipps, my dear boy, I have been
mightily exorcised in my mind lately about
those mouths of the Mississippi. I don’t won
der at their wanting to shut themselves up
when that nasty salt water outside is always
trying to run down them.” “Well, Aunt,”
responded I, calmly; “what’s to be done a-
boucit?” “Nothing, Pipps, my dear boy,
nothing. Nature’s a doing it all There’s
no use of any body trying to open those
mouths. They won’t be opened no how
you can fix it, Pipps. Old Mississippi knows
what lie’s about, 1 tell you. You see,* Pipps,
he’s been roakiug a mistake all this time. You
wont believe it, 1 know; but old Mississippi
and I know that he’s been ruuuing. the
wrong way—he’s been running up kill !
Don’t you see how deep the water is herein
front of New Orleans, and how it keeps
etting shallower and shallower until it
reaches the Balize? 1 tell you, nevvy, old
Mississippi’s going to fix things right mighty
soon, lie’s going to turn round and run
the other way—down hill—and you may
just go right straight and tell them Ingi-
neers^nd Mr. Soolly to mind their own bus
iness and let old Mississippi mind his.”
We agreed with Mr. Pipps that his aunt
might understand “human natur,” but that
she was profoundly ignorant of the nature ’
of the “Father of Waters,” though he is so
easily to be studied, being always in a state
of Nature.
l Esq.” and Mr.”—It is
titles of “Mr.” and u Esq.” are
for each other regarding an individual
cording as he rises or descends in the scale
of worldly influence. For instance, a plain
laboring man may be called simple Mr.
while he is a plain laboring man, But when
he rises to be a man of fortune or distinction,
he is no longer Mr., but Esq. Then, if it
gets abroad that he has lost bis influence
and poor and obscure again, people write
and print him plain Mr.; and his Esq. “goes
where glory waits it.”
A man once told us that he had seen
many reverses in life. “And as a proof of it,”
said he, “I have been Esquired six times and
Mistered seven. I began a Mr., got up to
be a Esq., by $10,000 left me by a gouty
uncle; speculated myself back into a Mr.
again, and since then have Esquired and
Mistered myself many times; and though
reckoned and styled only Mr., I yet hope to
be Esq. again.”
And we hope he will, too—for his worth
is superior to the tinsel honors of title, and
whether Mr. or Esq., he is at all times a
man!—-Literary Messenger.
A Sensible Landlord.—A he Frankfort
Herald is responsible for the following;
A little incident transpired some weeks
ago, at one of Frankfort hotels, which under
the present temperance excitement, is not
unworthy of.notice. The names of the par
ties we shall withhold from the public for
shame’s sake.
A little girl entered the tavern and in
pitiful tones told the keeper that her moth
er had sent her for eight cents.
“Eight cents!” said the tavern keeper;
“what does your mother want with eight
cents? I don’t owe her anything.”
“Well,” said the child, “father spends his
money here for rum, and we have nothing
to eat to-day. Mother wants to buy a loaf
of bread.”
A loafer remarked to the tavern keeper
“to kick out the brat.”
“No,” said the keeper, “I will give her
the money, and if the father comes here a-
gain I’ll kick him out.”
Gen. Scott's Reply to the State Rights
Men.—It is said that Gen. Scott in reply to
certain queries propounded to him and Gem
Pierce, by the State Rights Convention of
Alabama, has written to say that the only
declaration of principles he willyfeel called
upon to make during the present, canvass, is
contained in his acceptance of tike
ion.
Clerical Wit.—Watty Morrison, a Scotch
clergyman, was a man of great wit and hu
mor. On one occasion he earnestly entreat
ed an officer at Fort George, to pardon a
poor fellow who had been sent to halberds,
The officer offered to grant him his request
if he would in turn grant him the first he
would ask. Mr. Morrison agrees to this
and the officer immediately demanded that
the ceremony of baptism should be perform
ed on a puppy. The clergyman agreed to
it, and a party of gentlemen assembled to
see the novePBaptism.
Mr. Morrison desired the officer to hold
up the dog, ak was customary in the bap
tism of children and said:
“As 1 am a minister of the Church of
Scotland, I must proceed according to the
ceremonies of the church.”
“Certainly,” said the Major, “I expect ail
the ceremony.”
“Well then, Major U I begin by asking the
usual questions—you acknowledge your
self to be the father of this puppy?”
A roar of laughter burst from the crowd
and the officer threw the candidate for bap
tism away.
The Western Pork Trade.—The-Louis
ville Courier gives a promising account of
the coming pork harvest. Throughout
Kentucky and Indiana there is a large in
crease of hogs this season, which are worth
ten per cent more than they were last, ow
ing it is said, to the fact that the farmers
are feeding them on corn. The same ac
count is given of Ohio. The Courier says:
“Already some operators in Louisville
have purchased for delivery early in the
fall, some 20,000 hogs which will be fat
tened in Indiana, and will be delivered in
the Falls City at $3 to 3 25, gross. Some
days ago we stated that several large-sized
lots had been contracted for at Madison at
$4 50 net. A provision dealer at Louis
ville has agreed to deliver next spring a lot
of new mess pork—to be manufactured from
the coming crop—at $15, which is nearly
$5 per barrel less than at present prices.
The American Language.—An English
man, perusing an American newspaper, ex
claimed impatiently, on noticing some of
Webster’s orthographical improvements:
“These people ought to be denied the use
of the English language if they can’t treat it
better.”
“English language ?” echoed a Yankee,
without removing the cigar from between
his teeth: “guess you’re mistaken, hoss;it’s
the American language.”
“American?” repeated the wondering
Englishman.
“Guess it’s that,” said Jonathan, cooly;
“we’ve annexed it.”
“Fuss and Feathers.” — This phrase,
which is now likely to become of frequent
use, i9 come of a good source, as will be
seen by the following, from a Kentucky
paper:
The epithet “Fuss and Feathers,” Was
first applied to Scott at Lundy’s Lane by
the British. The tall hero went into the
fight with a very large plume, and was so
active and earnest in hurrying on and en
couraging his men—first at one then away
at another—that the enemy thought he
was a little fussy. Scott, with his tall form
large plume and dashing gallantry, was a
conspicuous mark for the bullets of the
British. He had two horses killed under
him, was shot in the side, afterwards in the
shoulder, and finally had his favorite feath
ers shot oftV After that the British called
him “Fuss and Feathers.”
Ike Marvel says, after hearing a dull ser
mon preached by a dandy, he asked a friend
what he thought of the course. He repli
ed in his usual quaint, queer style: “If
they go on preaching this way, the grass'
will soon be knee-deep in the streets of by reflex action, u
Loh Monies and Ned Bun'tUne, Jr.-—
We see it stated in some of the newspapers
that Lola Montes, with the same spirit
which animated her soul to create a Vevoltt-
tion in Bavaria, has commenced a suit at
law against little Ned Buntline, Jr., of the
penny Times, and that she has estimated
the damages at sixty-ftYe thousand dollars, .
besides intending to go before the Grand
Jury and have acriminal indictment brought
against him. She intends, also, when the
case comes up before the criminal and civil
courts, to take a position side by side with
her counsel—the eloquent James T. Brady;
and to make the most burning speeches on
the occasion, on which she will give a spe
cimen of her legal knowledge, and her cour
teous and ladylike scarcasm, that will con
vey a lesson, in gentlemanly or ladylike
pleading, to Charles O’Conner and John
Van Buren—such as they will neverfforget.
When the case comes cn, what a crowd
will be there.—N. Y. Herald.
Omitting too Much.—A green, good na-
tured, money making, up-country Jonathan
who said every thing very drily “got things
fixed,” and struck up a bargain for matri
mony. Having no particular regard for
appearances, the parties agreed to employ
a green-horn^eountry justice to put up the
tackling. He commenced the ceremonies
by remarking that “’twas customary on
such occasions to commence with prayer,
but he believed that he would omit that
after tieing the knot he said >“it was cus
tomary to give the married couple some
advice, but he believed he would omit that;
it was customary to kiss the bride but he
would omit that also.” The ceremony be
ing ended, Jonathan took the squire by the
button hole, and, and clapping his finger
on his nose, said “Squire, its customary to
give the magistrate five dollars—but I- be
lieve I'll omit that.”
Treatment of Persons Struck by Ligh t
ning.— In a communication to the Port
land Transcript, Dr. Davis of that city says:
“The popular impression in rel ation to
the application of cold water to pe rsons
struck by lightning is a decided error.”
The Doctor observes : “The whole treat
ment necessary to contract the injurious ef- .
foots of lightning may be comprised in a
few words. Expose the body to a moder
ate warmth so as to prevent the loss of an
imal heat,tfnd inflate the lungs so as to - ~
itate natural re^iration as- nei
ble, when the person breaths with difflYnUir
own efforts. ^The sprinkling of c<