Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

»!« ■'-'a i ❖ VOL. I. S ANDERS YJLLE GEORGIA, MARCH 21, 1873. NO. 38. M. G. MEDT.OCK. JETHRO AEUM. B. L. RODGERS By Medlock, Arline & Badgers. The TTvrit.d is published in SandersviIlf Gs., every Friday morning. Subscriptio. price TWO DOLLARS per annum. Advertisements inserted at the usual ratef No charge for publishing marriages c- ) deaths. . Whicli P Which shall I choose? Ah, -which indeed ? Which lor my love doth loudest plead ? Nellie‘ with eyes of deepest blue, Sweet Maud, with locks of golden hue Or roguish, witching, black-eyed Sue I love them all so well, I really cannot tell. Nellis, dear girl. I’ve longest known, Her heart, I ween, is ail mine own; I read it in her tell-tale eyes, Her secret on their surface lies, She breathes it in her gentle sighs ; She’s loving, kind and true, Alas ! what shall I do ? Maud, lovely maid, is passing fair, And she hath such a regal air; How well she’d grace a palace grand, E’en kings might bow at her command; Ah, well-a-day, I’m quite unmanned, But were the truth confessed, I think I love her the best. But stay! there’s merry, black-eyed Sue, The sweetest girl I ever knew, _ She’s not so fair as Nell, in truth, Nor half so grand as Maud, forsooth, And yet—have pity on a modest youth; I know she’d ne’er refuse, Afi me! which shall I choose ? Were they not all so true to me, My way I might more plainly see;! I could not break poor Nellie’s heart, And were I false, .Maud’s pride would smart, From Susie I should grieve to part; Two hearts must bleed for me, Would I could wed all three. Well, I have been a precious fool, Worse than the dullest imp at school! Would you believe it, I, Fitz Dunn, *" My father’s most respected son _ Have been refused by every one;— These maidens three, I find Are scarcely to my mind. Nell is insipid, Maud's too tall, I much prefer a maiden small; Susie’s petit, but I aspire To something nobler,somethinghigher, Not one’s the style I most admire; On some more worthy shrine I'll lay this heart of mine. Medfield, July, 1870. E. M. P. SELECT MISCELLANY. [Written for the Herald.] CLIFFORD LYLE. BY SUNBEAM. [Continued from No. 36.] “Great God! ’Tis she, herself— my own, my darling Lilia!—but no, it cannot be—’tis a youthful, girlish face, and poor Lilia, passed away long years ago, and pet, oh! heavens, how like my own loved child!” Then turning to the signature. “Clifford Knox Lyle”—Lilia’s daughter, my only grand-child”! As influenced by contending emo tions his withered face paled and flushed, alternately, while large quiv- i ering teardrops roiled down his time- scarred cheek, as he perused, and re perused the unrestrained out-pou rings of her lonely, aching heart. Tenderly laying aside, the tear-stain ed sheet he' sprang excitedly to his feet exclaiming. “Just God! Lilia’s child a beggar, unloved and alone to battle with life’s surging billows, no strong hand, no loving voice to guide and cheer her, mid the quicksands, shCals and break ers, alone, all alone? Oh! no, it must not, cannot be. A Knox an object of charity, dependent upon the grudg ing bounty of heartless strangers? never!" never!! Again reading as if to reassure him self, he continued. Yes true, sadly true. Verily, Ven geance is mine, 1 will repay”, tardy, tho’ sure and terrible the retribution for my inflexible firmness, nay ob stinacy, my unnatural conduct to wards my gentle Lilia.” Gathering up his letters, he hurri ed to the Liorary, where the morn ing was spent in writing to Clifford and Dr. Summers.—Having finished he rang for a servant, who soon made his appearance. “Here Willet, take these letters down to the post office immediately. Hurry now, it is highly important that they go to day" “One evening after an unusually irritating domestic scene, Clifford Lyle retired to her apartment, almost bereft of reason. That Mrs. Summers was the victim of an unaccountable though causeless jealousy, was too painfully obvious to admit of a mo ment's doubt, but she could devise no feasible plan whereby to extricate herself from a position so humiliat ing and embarrassing. Nothing had been left untried that promised the faintest shadow of release. She had written to her grand-father, and was treated as she supposed, with silent contempt, had repeatedly applied for situations as teachr or governess, but in every instance was doomed to dis appointment. As these stem facis were presented to the mind of the despairing girl, a change instantane ous aud marvelous swept over her passive features. Her placid brow contracted with anger, beneath which dark eyes glowed and flashed with defiant desperation, her delicately chiseled nostrils expanded with ex- ; citement, while her tightly compress- i bps were livid with suppressed** emotion. Impatiently stamping her foot, she angrily exclaimed. “ What am I to do ? What course shall I pursue ? Tamely submit to insults of the most degrading char acter? listen daily in silence to false, unmerited accusations? (the mere recollection of which crimson ed her pale cheek with blushes,) meekly bear with sealed lips those base libels against my perfect • puri ty of motive and action? regard with stoical indifference those das- point beyond ance ceases to be a virtue.’ I had hoped that my silent forbearance and apparent indifference would serve as a damper, resulting in their entiie cessation, but frequent repe titions convince me that my inoffen sive weapons have proven wholly ineffectual. If a raging storm must { precede a calm—be it so. I will at east satisfy her that I. am not the ‘insignificant, designing upstart' she is pleased to term me, but a true woman resolved at every hazard to vindicate my honor. Oh! how I pine for freedom from this worse than Egyptian bondage. Never did the murmuring children of Israel sigh for the flesh pots of Egypt, more than I for release both mental and physical. Raising a paper to screen her face from the fire’s glowing heart, her eyes wondered abstractedly over its columns, when suddenly her atten tion was arrested and gaze rivited upon the sheet. With a quick, ner vous start she drew the lamps near er and read Wanted—An educated lady of good family, as companion for a mid dle-aged invalid lady. Early appli cation will secure a pleasant home and remunerative salary. Address —E. D. P , T , Ala. With a voice tremulous with emo tion she reverently ejaculated— “Bless the Lord, Oh my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name.” The means of escape are at last within my grasp. “A pleas ant home,” she feelingly murmured again, glancing at the talisman of hope, “Oh, how many bright, holy associations cluster around that sim ple yet hallowed word “home"! But this is no time to indulge in idle thoughts. I must apply at once.” She replied to the advertisement, frankly stating her condition and at tending circumstances so far as con sistent with her ideas of prudence and propriety; then retired with a greater sense of relief than she had for a long time experienced. Sooner than anticipated the much longed for response came, that wogld either shroud her in deeper gloom, or re kindle the feebly flickering star of hope. In anxious, eager excitement she hastily broke the seal, and • with ex treme agitation extracted the deli cately perfumed note that was to decide her fate. A moment’s sus pense only and the relieved, delight ed girl, ’mid a sparkling shower of tears, gave vent to her feelings in the glad cry— “Joy, joy, forever! my task ia done!” then smiling at her own en thusiasm the overjoyed, impulsive creature raised her tear-bathed eyes and poured forth the fervent thanks of a greatful heart to the Great Giv er of all good. Without delay the glad tidings were communicated to the family. Dr. Summers was great ly surprised at her decision, though gratified at her success, since it af forded her so much pleasure, bat at the same time expressed extreme re luctance to relinquish his claim and resign her to the care of others. Mrs. Summers received the intelli gence in scornful silence. Arrangements were formed, and preparations made forthwith to ef fect her departure at an early hour the morning following. Fortunately the funds in Mr. Lyle’s possession at the time of his death, and subse quently delivered to Clifford, amply sufficed to supply her immediate wants and defray traveling expenses; thereby enabling her to decline un hesitatingly the acceptance of pe cuniary assistance so generously urged by Dr. Summers. A cold, formal adieu to Mrs. Sum mers, a loving kiss to her young friend Gracie—and Clifford Lyle had left forever the abode, where had been endured the bitterest trials of her young life. She was accompanied to the de pot, by Dr. Summers, and after re peated assurances of friendly re gard, and many kind wishes for her future welfare, she was borne rapid ly away. Within a week her jour ney by railroad was accomplished, securing a carriage and giving nec essary orders, she shortly found her self in front of an imposing brick building, surrounded by handsome arranged grounds, situated on the outskirts of the charming little town ofT . . She had scarcely alighted, when the door opened, giving egress to quite a young man, prepossessing in appearance, who hastened forward to perform the duties of host, with a captivating grace and dignity of manner unusnal in one of his years. A mutual introduction—few frivo lous commonplace remarks, and the two had entered the spacious hall, at the extreme end of which, Clif ford was ushered in a commodious, exquisitely furnished apartment con taining a sole occupant—a fair, frag ile, middle aged lady, seemingly a confirmed invalid, who smilingly re ceived the new comer. Miss Lyle, allow me to present my mother, Mrs. Preston,” and with a bow the young man retired. A warm pressure of the hand, a kind, cordial greeting uttered in gentle tones, affected the yearning nature of the excitable girl almost to tears. You must feel weary and worn out with fatigie my child, travelling such distance, ‘there” pointing to a closed door, “is your room commu nicating with my own take off your hat, make yourself comfortable and rest until (tinner which will be serv ed at two.” he pushed through the excited, gap ing croud hoping to effct their escape from the outside. Vain the hope; toe devouring element menacingly bid defiance at every point. _ 8 e e i n knowing they must inevitably peri the wretched man overcome by ex haustion and horror, with a soul piercing groan, fell to the ground in- sensibe. Dr. Summers never regained con sciousness, brain fever of the most violent form ensued, terminating in a few days, his existence. Anxiously and .impatiently Mr. Knox awaited the arrival of his grand-daughter, and as months glid ed on and still no tidings, he wrote again.and again to Dr. Summers and Clifford Lyle—but no response. Wholly at a loss to conjecture the cause of their unaccountable silence and thinking she had perhaps be come reconciled to her lot—the old man wondered at her strange incon sistency, charging her with base in gratitude and deception—and yet, he could not associate with that sweet, guileless face, he had learned Glad of an opportunity to escape to love so well, anything that sa- observation, Clifford immediately en- r vored of meanness, tered the apartment indicated, *and ( “No”—said he after months of really tired was soon wandering‘mid ‘ torturing suspense and anxiety, “there’s something wrong, and Pm the fanciful scenes of dreamland, The day succeeding Clifford’s de parture from Evergreen, Dr. Sum mers in making a professional call was highly entertained, by an inter esting, exciting biblical discussion between two eminent Divines, either side being sustained and defended with such strong, convincing argu ments as to deter him from arriving at any satisfactory conclusion in re gard to the subject. However on his return home wishing to settle in his own mind the agitated question, con cluded to refer to, and abide the de cision of his favorite author of some standard commentary. Summoning his daughter Gracie ne directed her to bring from his study the required volume. Shortly afterwards, the young girl bounded in theToom, her soft azure eyes luminous, and cheeks flushed with excitement, holding a- loft a letter. “Oh! papa, here is a letter I for got all about. When you were in New Orleans last summer, Dandy handed me the mail one day while mamma was absent; the papers I laid on your table, and this letter, the only one, I -placed within this book, which I was reading, intend ing to give it to mamma, when she returned, but never thought of it again, until I picked up the book just now. I’m so very sorry, but indeed I forgot ail about it.” Taking the letter, Dr. Summers quietly remarked— “Very careless and thoughtless of my little daugh ter, nothing important though I guess,”—glancieg at the post-mark, “San Francisco! why Graice, child, how much I regret this occurrence,— this, is from Miss Clifford’s Grand father—Mr. Knox.” Reading and refolding the letter with a sigh, Gracie inquired. “What does he say papa?” “Why he’s anxious that she should go to him, immediately, how strange ly he must think of us—Clifford and myself, however I will write to-night making a satisfactory explanation to both: how unfortunate my daugh ter that you did not recollect it soon er.” After tea, Dr. Summers withdrew to his study for the purpose of mak ing the only reparation in his power for his seeming neglect. Having fin ished writing he remained until a late hour, engaged in reading. On open ing the door, a sudden draught of air extinguished the the light he held in his hand; to ignite a match and re light the lamp was the work of a mo ment, lightly tossing the burning frag ment in the direction of the fire place, not raising his eyes to mark its fall, which was upon a pile of old papers left on the floor for removal. Little thinking of the danger that lurked within the combustible heap, he secured the door and retiring immed iately, was soon wrapped in the sound sleep of health. After a few hours he awoke with a peculiar stifling, suffocating sensa tion, and a dread of some awful, im pending calamity. Rushing to the door he found the interior of h i s building enveloped in flames. At that moment a loud, long, appalling scream rang shrilly out on the still midnight air, quickly followed by an other and still another. Too well the terrified man knew they issued from the apartment occupied by his two younger children. Hastening to their rescue he was confronted by a flam ing wall, that angrily forbade ap proach. Ever and anon amid the roaring, hissing fire and falling timbers, was borne to the ears of the distracted father the piercing shrieks of h i s helpless children. Directing Mrs. Summers and Gracie to. escape from a window arouse the servants and give the alarm, he resolved to save them or perish in the attempt. On ward he pressed, regardless of dan ger, battling with the glaring, firery billows, but was again forced to re treat. Madly leaping from a window 1 ing wrong, determined to. ferret it out—dolt, idiot that I am, to watch and wait so long instead of acting”—rising and violently pulling the bell, which was speedily answered- “Willet”— “Sah.” “Do yon recollect two letters' I gave-you several months since, and ordered you to hurry to the office, as it was highly important they should be mailed without delay? l)o von remember the circumstance?” “Berry well boss—berry well sah.” “There is much depending on your answer Willet, consequently I want nothing but the truth. Did you obey my instructions ?” “Hat I did sah, dat I did—I tell yon boss, you don’t ketch dis pusson swervin way frum de trnfe—fore God, I’se cler ob dat, mity cler.” “Did you deposit the letters in. the office yourself or hand them to another?” “Boss, dem letters went to de offis sho, yes sah, dey went fur tru, caze I members, berry well all ” <c But stop—that is not replying to my question, this is what I wish to know—did you carry them yourself ?” “Now boss” scratching his head, “dats anuder ting—I tell jou all bout em sah. When you structed me what to do—Inebberstop for nutting sah —I clare boss I bin walk so fas am all I could do to fotch a long bref. Well—you see boss, as I was a goin in a mity hurry by de sto, massa George (datyoung gemman what you edicated an sot up in bizness arfter little missis lef you) seed me an say “stop a minit.” I was in a mity splutter to get on, howsumever I sorter slack up jes to see what urn moot want. Him say (I members urn berry words) “is you are a goin to de pos-offis Willet ?” I tell um “yes sah”—he say “hole on I wants to sen a letter mysef—I ax um “is em reddy rit mas George ? caze if em is’nt not, I clare I has’nt not got de time to wait—de boss hurry me miterly—dese is berry purticuler let ters an am blige tur go to day.” Den he hole out um han an say—“lem me see doze letters what quires you to trabel railroad speed,” I gie um one, an I spec sumting um bin eat, turn ginst um an mek um powful sick jes as um look at de ritin you rit on de backside—fur um face tun white, white as your hankcher boss, an ran hand trimble jes like um had de chill. Him look at um rite smart while, den um talk—“what de binder to pay now? confound de luck! Willet you can jes go an put dat letter in de offis. Ise got to go mysef, so I’ll tek dis an see dat um sholy mail to day.” I tells um berry well—an goes bout my bizness. “Is dere anyting rong bout um boss? caze if dere is dis pusson' am non-sponsible an means to be clerd.” “Give yourself no uneasiness Wil let, you are all right, you may retire.’ “Yes,” said Mr. Knox musingly, “as I surmised there’s foul play—on ly circumstantial evidence ’tis ture, but sufficiently strong and clear to impress upon my mind the oertainty of young Stanley’s guilt—Villainous ingrate! I comprehend perfectly his base design, the letter to Clifford was withheld with the view of preventing a reconciliation, thinking thereby to secure to himself at my death my en tire possessions—vile scoundrel—but I’ll foil him yet.” Writing a letter a servant was sum moned. “Now, Willet here is a letter I want you to carry to the office yoursef and see that you tell no one where you are going. Mark my words—carry it yoursef, and recollect if you disobey my commands I shall nt once, dis charge you from my service.” “I clare boss you’ll nebber habno casion fur to do dat. When I was a nigger, an bin blongs to you I bey u -ah, in eberyting, den massa I ob Linkum sen freedom fro an mek VO cutterd pusson an I’se rite here yifc an willin to sarve yon jes like a nig ger, no differnce sah, not a bit. Need’nt be tall oneasy boss I minds you sho. I warents yon dis same let ter goes safe an soun as a dollar for X tek um mysef sah.” “Very well, I think Imay trustyou —you had better attend to it at once.” Closing the door the old negro trudgedalong shaking his head thoughtfully, mattering— Dere,8 sumting goin on rong in dis yer house, an ole marster so close mouf dis pusson does’nt stan de pur- ticlers, bat I lay dat smnve face, ile- ly tung sarpent, massa George be at de bottom ob de hole consarn, yah, yah, yah—I fine um out is I?—golly r it teks dis pusson for to sarch out dc white fokes secrits—yah, yah, yah. Yes, dats it sho—ole marse he bin hab a sweet-heart an dat sneakin chile of satnn wid um hifalutin, hi- congolarities bin an cut um out. Wall, wall, dat’ll do—umph! Vast ly enjoying his fancied discovery he quickened his pace, and unmolested, faithfully accomplished the errand. Mrs. Preston was a widow in af fluent circumstances, having two children only—both sons—Eugene the elder, a barrister of superior mental endowments and high litera ry attainments, possessing withal great personal attractions. Arthur a handsome youth, gay and jovial in disposition, was pursuing the study of medicine. Clifford Lyle, whom we left wan dering in the fantastic realms , of dreams, arose after a long refreshing sleep, with a sweet feeling of con tentment to which for months she had been a stranger. Having com' { fleted her simple yet becoming toi- et, she again sought the society of Mrs. Preston. She found the trio assembled. The proud, doting moth er with an ineffable smile, and man ner peculiarly her own, presented her son Eugene. The young man surveyed with courteous scrutiny and unfeigned admiration, the vision of surpassing beauty, which stood before him—seemingly unconscious of the magic spell of loveliness. Na ture had around her thrown. The unnatural reserve she had acquired during her residence at Dr. Sum mers, was quickly dispelled by the genial air of genuine sympathy, with which she was surrounded, and Clifford ‘was herself again’—spark ling, vivacious and happy—perfectly irresistible. Eugene Preston for the first time in his life desired and exerted him self to make a favorable impression, and certainly, seldom had he ap peared to better advantage. [to be continued.] Josh Billings insures his Life. I kum tew the conclusion lately that life was so unsartin that the only way for me to stand a fair chance with o£her folks was to get my life in sured, and so I called on the agent of the Garden Life Insurance Compa ny, and answered the following ques tions which were put to me over a pair of gold specks bv a slick, little, fat, old feller, with a little round gray head:— 1. Are you male or female ? If so, how long have you been so? 2. Are yon subject to fits, and if so, do you have more than one at the time? 3. What is yonr precise fiteing weight? 4. Did you ever have any ances tors, and ft so, how much ? 5. What is your legal opinion of the constitutionality of the 10 com mandments ? 6. Do you ever have the nite- mare? 7. Are you married and live sin gle, or are you a bachelor ? 8. Do yon beleav in a futur state ? If you do, state it. 9. What are your private senti ments about a rush of rats to the head—can’t it be did successfully? 10. Have you ever committed sui cide? If so, how does it seem to af fect you ? 11. Did you ever have the meezles? If so, how many? After answering the above ques tions like a man, on the confirmative, the slick, little, fat, old feller, with goald specs on, ced I was insured for life, and would probably remain so for a tirm of years. I thanked him and smiled one of my most pensive smiles. A long lost husband made his ap pearance in Brunswick, N. C., the other day, and with tears and $75,. 000 indneed his divorced wife to kick her second husband down the back stairs into a pig pen. The tears might have failed, but the sec ond argument brought a flood of love into that woman’s heart that she could not resist. Simms’ Dog. BY MAX ADELEB. We did not want to take Simms’ dog home for him; but Simms insist ed npon it. He wanted to go some where to meet a man and so he plac ed one end of the chain in our hand, and left before we had time to re monstrate. So, as it was absolutely necessary to do something with the dog, we concluded that it would be better to do as Simms suggested, and take him home. He was a large dog, and his temper was not of angelic sweetness. When we started home with him, he seemed disinclined to S fo. He appeared to entertain a pre- erence;for lying down and thinking An exchange says that there were but two black men in the last Con gress; but it is not true. There were dozens of them—two of them with black skins, and the rest with black characters.—Courier-Journal. Good Brogans, whole »took$1.75 ®pair at M. A. EVANS A 00. —prob'ably about the succulence an juiciness of the bites he had taken out of various human legs during his career. When we pulled at the chain he growled. When we whistled he rose and shook up the hair on his spine and showed his teeth. When we attempted to drag him along by force he flew at our leg and attempt ed to help himself to a mouthful, so that he could in future have another cherished recollection upon which to muse and ponder. We dodged him and seized a cane, one end of which we inserted in his collar, so that he could be kept at a safe distance. Then he was suddenly seized with an intense yearning to reach Simms’ house at once, aud he started with a S For three or four hundred the procession went on smooth ly enough; but we should perhaps; have gone more rapidly towards Simms,’ if the dog had mot been pos sessed by an irresistible desire to be sociable with every other dog that came within a square of him. Once Simms’ dog obtained too much sociability. There was a big-^ ger dog, which seemed more anxious to commune with Simms’ dog than the latter did with him. The brief interview ended with a fight. We were so much interested that when hostilities began we climbed impetu- ■ From the Popular Science Monthly. Heat and Life. THE RELATION OF THE DIET TO WORK. . We have said that the heat-pro ducing power of aliments will be thd more considerable in proportion as they contain a greater quantify of elements that need a large supply of oxygen for their combustion. There* fore, meat and fat repair the losses of the system much more speedily than vegetable substances. The lat ter are suitable for the inhabitants of warm countries who do not require to produce heat, which the atmos- E here supplies them with abundant* t. The inhabitants of cold regions, on the contrary, whose accessions of heat ought to be as continual as en ergetic, are urged by instinct to use meats and fats, which throw out green heat in their combustion. For instance, it is a physiological necessity that the Lapps should feed on the oil of cetacea, as it is a neces sity for men of the tropics to con sume only very light food. The ac tivity of respiratory combustion and the kind of aliment thus vary with climate, so that there is always a certain proportion maintained be tween the thermic state of the sur rounding medium and that of the animal furnace. In like manner, in: the same climate, persons who per form great mechanical labor must eat more than those who put forth but little movement. This fact, long ago observed, has received of late the clearest and surest demonstra tion. Yet, perhaps, it is not kept sufficiently in view in the manage ment of public aliments. Many ex amples prove the benefit that indus try would derive from increasing, in all possible ways, the amount of meat used in laborers’ meals. Quite recently, at a manufactur ing establishment of the Tarn, M. Talabot has improved the strength and sanitary conditon of his work- by giving, them meat in abund- '. Under the influence of a diet men ance ously over a fence, # in order, as it almost wholly vegetable each labor- were, to obtain a better stand point from which to view the conflict. We watched the fray from the other side, while we passed the chain between the panel and endeavored to soothe the excited passions of the parties.^ Simms’ dog, we regret to say, whip ped. Then we concluded to vary the exercises a little by starting for home again. But the blood of Simms’ dog was up. As soon as we began to cross the fence he made such a sav age demonstration at us that we thought it would be a suicide to get down among him. We determined to remain where we were. But Simms animal was inimated by aggressive zeaL If we would not go to him he would go to us. So he began to crawl through the fence at the panel through which his chain went. Just as he completed the task we adjourned with singular promptness to the oth er side. Simms’ dog looked surpris ed and grieved, but he emitted a savage growl and began to crawl back again. It seemed then as if consid erations of a strictly personal but very urgent nature required that we should return to the previous side of the fence; and when we did, Simms’ dog seemed to regard it as a sacred duty to climb back at once. We like a dog to have perseverance and de- terminatiofi, and Simms’ dog had. As these gymnastics were fast be coming monotonous, we concluded to vary them; so we let the dog go and repaired to a neighboring tree. As soon as the dog arrived he gazed upward for awhile and drank in the scene. Then he seemed satisfied, and lay down at the foot of the tree to wait till we descended. He stay ed there four hours and so did we. We couldn’t desert such a faithful dog as that. At the end of that time Simms hove in sight, and, standing there beneath the outspreading branches of that noble old monarch of the forest, turned his face upward and abused us scurrilously for not bringing home his dog, as we had promised to do, intimating at the same time his belief that we cher ished an intention to steal the brute. We should have dropped on Simms’ head aud crushed him to the earth if his dog hadn’t been there. As it was, we overlooked the insult, and he went home with his menagerie. The next time we have a dog to take home We shall kill him before we start. Josh Billings thus speaks of a new agricultural implement, to which the attention of farmers is invited: ‘John Rodgers” revolving, expand ing, unceremonious, self-adjusting, self-contrakting, self-greasing and self-righteous hoss rake, is now for ever offered tew a generous publik. These rakes are as easy to keep in repair as a hitching post, and will rake up a paper of pins sowed broad cast in a ten-akre * field of wheat stubble. Theze rakes kan be used in winter for a hen roost, or sawed up in stove wood for a kitchen fire. No farmer of good moral charanter should be without this even if he had to steal one. Best calicoes, 10} cts. per yard. M. A. EVANS A CO. er lost on an average fifteen days’ work a year through fatigue or sick ness. As soon as the use of meat was adopted the average loss for each man per year was not over three days. Often enough, it must be owned, al cohol is only the workman’s means of remedying the wants of heat-pro ducing elements in his food- -a de ceitful remedy, which buoys up the system for a time, only to sap it af terwards with alarming subtlety. One of the cost preventives of the abuse of alcohol would certainly be the les sening of the cost of meat. Gen. Gordon and the Iron clad. —Old “Heel Taps,” as Yiee-Presi- dent Wilson is generally called at Washington by the Bohemians, can’t get used to his new dignify as pre*- siding officer of the Senate. Ha is constantly making’blunders, the last one of which is told in the Baltimore Sun’s Washington special of Tues day. It says: Gen. Jno. B. Gordon was sworn in to-day as Senator from Georgia. Some amusement was created by Vice-President Wilson at first inad vertently putting to him the iron clad oath instead of the modified oath prescribed for ex-Confederates. When Mr. Wilson read “you solemn ly swear that you have never volun tarily borne arms against United States,” a very' perceptible smile was visible on the face of many, both on the floor and in the galleries. A Joke on a Doctor.—Afew nights since, at a late hour, the speaking tube at the office door of a popular physician in New Haven was used by some mid-night wag to the follow ing effect: Phe Doctor was in a sound sleep when he was partially awakened by a “halloa” through the tube, when the following dialogue took place: “Well, what do you want ?” “Does Dr. Jones live here ?” “Yes; what do you want ?” “Are you Dr. Jones ?” “Yes.” “Dr. Simon Jones?” “Yes, yes; what do you want?” “Why, how long have you lived here ?” “Some twenty years; why!” “Why? why in the thunder don’t you move I” “H you stay there about ten sec onds more you’ll find I am moving 1” bounded out of bed; but the patient was heard, ‘moving’ down the street at a rate that defied pursuit. A pious invalid went to church last Sabbath for the first time for several months, “Did you not enjoy the sermon?” said her husband, thankful to see her in his pew sg-aiti. “Enjoy it, I guess I did, immensely, till I looked at the lady in the front seat, and all at once I was unhappy, for, would yqu believe it, my back hair wasn’t up high enough.” Hospitality.—Small cheer and great welcome make a merry feast, where the heart is right. Cream Factory cheese, by the box 18 cts A M. A. EVANS*CO.