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by s. b. craiton. SANDERSYILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, AUGUST 10, 1852. YOU. YI—NO. 29. THE CENTRAL GEORGIAN IS PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY MORNING, TERMS : If paid strictly in advance, per year, $1 50 If not paid at the time of subscribing, $2 00 These terms will be strictly adhered TO, WITHOUT RESPECT TO PERSONS, AND ALL SUBSCRIPTIONS WILL BE REQUIRED TO BE SET TLED UP EVERY YEAR. Advektme .ients not exceeding twel re lines, will be inserted at one dollar for the first in sertion, and fifty cents for each continuance. Advertisements not having the number of in sertions specified, will be published until for- bid. Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Administrators and Guardians, are required by law to be advertised in a public gazette forty days previous to the day ot sale. The sale of Personal Property must be ad vertised in like manner at least ten days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an es tate irust be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of ordinary for leave to sell Land and Negroes, must be published weekly for two months. , . Citations for letters of administration, must be published thirty days—for dismission from Administration, monthly for six months— for dis- mission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for foreclosure of Mortgage must be published monthly for four months—for estab lishing lost papers, for the full space of three months—for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has been giv en by the deceased, the full space of 3 months. Publications will always be continued ac cording to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. 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<