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The McDuffie Journal. A Real Live Country Paper. Published Everv Wednesday Morning, by WHITE vV COMBS. Terms of Subscription. One copy, one year $2.00 One copy, six months i.eO Ten copies, in clubs, one year, each— 100 Single copies tfi. fcsT 111 snUseriptionwinvaribly in advance /{LSINESS CARDS. It. W. H . NEAL, A TTO R XF. Y A T /, A IP, AND NOTARY PC B 1.1 C, THOMSON, GA . TTT ILL practice in the Courts of YV McDuffie aud adjoining Counties. CsTC ONTETANCiNoa specialty. H. C. RONEY, ATTORNEY AT LAW. THOMSON* GA. IST Will practice in the Augusta. North em and Middle Circuits. nolyl PAUL C. HUDSON, AITOBXEY AT LA W, Thomson, On. Will practice in the Superior Courts of the Augusta, Northern autl Middle Circuits, and in the Supreme Court, and will give attention to all cases in Bankruptcy. Aug. 25, 1574. if Central |jotel 33 MRS. W. M. THOMAS. AUGUST A, GEORGIA sepl 1 ts Al.la day at home. Agents wanted. l £ Outfit and terms free. TRUE A CO., Augusta, Maine. JUDKINS & SHAW, KEEP SUPPLIED WITH FISH, OYSTERS, GAME, VEGETABLES. Partridges, Doves. Squir rels, Ducks, Chickeus, Butter, Callages. Potatoes, Egfts NORFOLK OYS 1 EUS, ICK, etc. Orders from the country promptly tilled. Address JUDKINS k SHAW, Mclntosh Street, next to the New Post Of fice. B2a§ feirTOTf oend 25c. to G. P. ROWELL A CO., New York, for Pamphlet of H* l > pages, containing lists of 3000 newspa])ers, and estimates showing cost of advertising. PAVILION HOTEL, Charleston , S. C. G. T. ALFORD ts- CO., Bates, s:’..<■'<) per day Proprietors. I, S. &P. C.TANTS’ Meat House, Augusta Ga. Fine CAROLINA, TENNESSE and KEN TUCKY B B B F* , Pork, Lamb, Veal. Mutton. Hog-head Cheese, Sausage, Mixed, or AI L PORK, as ordered, Corned Beef. Pork, and Tongues. A full stock always on hand. A CARD. 1‘ AM frequently asked by my friends if I am doing a general practice, or only at tending inch eslls as may Vie made in good weather or convenient to my office. In answer to the above. 1 would say to my former patrons and friends, that from this date I will enter upon the active duties ol my profession looking in part to those who may ask my services for my reward. Office' on Main Street, in Holzendorfs House. May 10-ts. JAS. S. JONES. JULIUS H. OPENHEIM, No. 143 Reynolds Street. AUGUSTA, GEORGIA., WHOLESALE DEALEB IN IRON, METALS, RAGS AND ALL KINDS OF Paper Stock, Hides, Wool, W-A.X, Etc. H2-a§ ALBERT HAPE, Non-Kesicl«n< Dentist, still be found ready to attend to the wants of old and new' patrons, if desired, at their residences. Will also, as heretofore, practice in adjoin ing counties. Panic prices insured and all work warranted. Office at the residence of YV. E. Speir. Please address by letter, at Thomson, Ga. C« ts jjjVK i per day at .home. Samples #0 to *S»4I ‘ worth'*! free Stinv ■ A: Cos.. Fortland Maine (The Itlcfufe Otleelilij Jompl, VOL. VI. To the AflUcted. ■ IN CALLING THE PUBLIC ATTENTION TO THE Indian Compound COUGH MIXTURE FOR the cure of CONSUMPTION and all diseases of the LUNGS and THROAT, I say that nothing surpasses it for ('olds and Coughs, and can be taken from old age down to the cradle with impu nity, and without danger. But the proses ! sional world is so full of Ambiguousness | and Egotism, that anything put before the public as a safe and reliable Remedy for certain diseases is scoffed at and pro nounced worthless aud a humbug. I say try it before you condemn it, as I will give you the name of even* herb, Ac., that it is composed of. which you can examine at your leisure : Yitellus Ovi, Amygdaius i Persica. Mel. Pinus Palustins, Andromeda, Arborea. Arctium Leppa, Inula llcleuAim, Marrubium Vulgare, Autemiaria Symphy tum, Duichwaehsener YVasserdost, Ceplia lanthns Occidentalis, Symphytum Offici nale It is prepared at my office, No. fill reach tree street. ATLANTA, GA., where it can be had in any quantity. If any one usiug it will say that it has done them no good, return the bottle aud get your money re turned. S. T. RIGGERS, M. D., Cls-f*. Atlanta, Ga. For sale by Dr. A. D. Hill, Thomson, Ga. Spring Til! Again! € L IS A N I t m EI CLOTHING* BOOTS, SHOES, HATS, AC., AC., AC. JUST received a lurce lot of Spring and Summer Goods of all kinds, which are use ful, good, pretty and cheap. YVo only ask inspection before you spend a dollar for anything in our line. A. J. Adkins, THOMSON, GA. Tlw Duke of Cannon. rphis thorough-bred TENNESSEE BULL. 1 whose pedigree is we ll esiablishcd iu cl can be traced back through the purest stock for many years, is now standing on my plantation four miles North-east of Thom son, near the old White Oak Campground. He possesses fill the qualities of tlie finest blooded stock in the. land, is three years old, of dark brown color, weighs about fif teen hundred pounds, a model form, per fectly gentle and well disposed. I am prepared to take care of cows sent from a distance at reasonable rates. A number of his calves may be seen at the residences of Messrs. T. Jb YVest, YVm. 11. Johnson, and others. Price of season *5.00, M. YV. CURRY. May 10-iim. GEORGIA DIRECTORY! First regular Issue now in preparation 1. WILL CONTAIN fi complete Business Directory of every village, town and city in the State. 2. IT WILL CONTAIN a complete SHIP PER’S GUIDE to awery point in the State. 3. IT WILL CONTAIN a foil, classified list of all persons in the State engaged in any MERCANTILE, MECHANICAL. MANUFACTURING or PROFESSION AL pursuit. 4. IT WILL CONTAIN a correct list of State and County officers. 5. IT WILL CONTAIN a complete PORT OFFICE DIRECTORY of the UNITED STATES and TERRITORIES. Also, an accurate list of EXPRESS STATIONS IN ALABAMA, GEORGIA, MISSISSIP PI, SOUTH CAROLINA and FLORI DA, prepared expressly for this work by Route Xgcnts, and only to be found in our Directories. <>. IT WILL CONTAIN a revised and cor rect COUNTY MAP of the STATE of GEORGIA 7. IT WILL CONTAIN, in addition to the foregoing special features, so much gen eral information that no business man can afford to be without it. As an adver sing medium we think it presents its own claims, and we confidently commend it to the business public, hoping to receive a patronage commensurate with its in trinsic value, and the great pains be stowed upon its preparation. BATES. Otic Page and Copy of Book, $25 00 Half “ “ “ “ “ 15 00 Third “ “ “ “ “ 12 00 Fourth “ “ “ “ “ 10 00 Price of Book with luch Card 5 00 Name in Capital Letters, 1 00 WII LI.LLIt. MARSHAM.A IIKIIOE, PTJBI.IBHKBB, ATLANTA, GA. r.j.imfiwxE* OILDBRi LOOKING glass ANI) PICTURE FRAME MAKER. Oi*. D FRAMES RE-GILT. OIL PAINTINGS C A lIEFULLY C L F, A N ED, LIN E D and VA R NIS II ED . 19 JACKS! N STREET, \* <;i 'ST \. aA. POETICAL. [The following beautiful poem, on the recent sad death of young Millard Seals, by Mrs. Bryan, of the Sunny South , is one of the gems of Southern poesy, and an honor alike to the head and heart of the gifted authoress :] MILLARD SEALS. BY MARY E. BRYAN. ‘•The good die first. And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Bum to the socket.”—Shelly. —o — Tlia year was at its fairest. Spring had touched The verge of golden summer, and the earth. Wearing her crown of red June roses, danced Along her glowing path to sounds of joy, YY r hen, sudden as the scathing thunder-bolt, Fell the dire blow that crushed out hope and joy From the fond hearts that loved him. Far across The gay. green eaith, flashed the electric words, Laden with power to scathe. The found their goal In the two breasts that beat with thoughts of him— The only one, the absent—fancying Ilis blyte and innocent joy—the elastic spring YVith which his spirit rose, freod from restraint. The dust and toil of the hot town, to meet His brief, bright holiday beside tha sea He had so often dreamed of, but whose waves Flashing in the June sunshine, bright and wild. His eyes might never look on. Dead in June! Dead it his life’s sweet June, while bright years stood YVaiting to bless him—while Fame plucked her bays For bis young brow, and Love called low and sweet From hiding myrltes—•while a hundred hopes Swelled to rich elfioresccncc- while not far Stood deep-eyed Wisdom waiting to anoint From kingly chrism the brow her hand had touched Thus early to far riper thought than dwells Behind unfurrowed temple-s. Oh, rare soul! So sweet in thy young wisdom, yet so frank In boyish mirth, so pure in thought and act. So deep in thy instinctive sympathy YVnst thon but lent us here to show how full Os rarest harmoi y can bo the thing YVe call our frail and fallen humanity ? A thousand hearts beat low and sad to-day For thee, fair spirit, that passing like the rose, Leaves the world sweeter for thy lifo. Foud ears Oateh sUU (ho silver echoes from thy lips, That eloquence had touch- with and rnoS'od To high, heroic themes. Not lost, not lost To earth is thy bright life; it is but drawn Behind the cloud of death; and when high thoughts, Like winds of upper ether, part the cloud, Thy memory shall shine out as bright and blessed, And blessing, as the typic ray that fell YVitli sudden bursting through the gloomy mist Upon thy pall, as vailed in snowy flowers, ’Tvvns lowered to the resting place of all Time’s tired children—Earth’s deep, quiet breast. A NIUHT OF TERROR. This night, which will dwell in my memory with vivid distinctness while life and reason are left me, was in Octo ber a long while ago. I was at that time a telegraph operator stationed at a little town upon the Grand Trunk line of rail road. Mine was by no means a model place of residence. There were beer-gardens, drinking saloons, and gambling-houses, out of all proportion to the more respect able shops and residences ; we had two arrests of counterfeits, and there was scarcely a day passed that there was not a brawl among the ruffians around us. Still, there was a school, and a timid blue-eyed woman had come to teach there. How long an unprotected woman might have lived there I can only guess, for Alice Holt had been there but three months when she consented to walk into church with mo one day, and walked out my wife. This was in July, and we had occupied a pretty cottage nearly a quar ter of a mile from the telegraph office since our marriage. Reing the only man employed in the telegraphic business in the town, I was obliged to remain constantly in the office during the day and part of the evening, and Alice herself brought mo my dinner and supper. There was a small room next to my office, with a window, but only one door, communicatidg with the larger room. Here Alice had fitted up a dressing-table, and mirror, wash-stand, and some shelves, where she kept pepper, salt and pickles for my office repasts. The two rooms were on the secong floor of a wooden building that stood alone. With this necessary introduction I come to the story of that October night, and the part my blue-eyed Alice, only 18 and afraid of her own shadow, played in it. I was in the office at about 7 :30 o’clock, when one of the railway officials came in, all flurried, saying : “Stirling, have you been over to the embankment on the road to-day?” Tiie embankment was not a quarter of a mile from the office, on the east side. “No ; I have not.” “It was a special providence took me there, then. One of the great masses of rock has rolled down directly across the track. It will be as dark as a wolf’s mouth to-night, and if the midnight up TtD'Vnbl Gms 21. 1373, train come* without Vnruiug, there will be a horrible smash-up.” “It must stop at PostviUe, then,” I replied. “I will send a message.” “Yes. That is wlist I stepped in for. The down track is elqpr, go you need not stop that train.” “All right, sir.” •; I was standing at the door, seeing my caller down the rickety staircase, when Alice came up with iFv supper. It was hot and I was cold, sc I drew up a table, and opening can and Jiasket, sat down to enjoy it. Time enough for business, I thought, afterward. .*4 I ate we chatted. “Any message to-day!" my wife asked. “One for John Martin.” “John Martin ?” Alice cried ; “the greatest ruffian in the neighborhood. What was the message?” “Midnight truae-it?* “Was that all ?” , “That was all. Mr; Hill has just been in here to tell me theje was a huge rock across the track at the embankment, so I shall stop the minnigt train at Postvilie, The passaugers must wait a few hours there, and come on iu the morning after the track is cleared.”, “Have you scut that message, Rob ert ?” “Not yet. There la plenty of time. That train does not smell Postvilie till half-past 1 i and it is iuot yet 8. Yes, it is just striking.” “Better send it, Robert. If there should lie ail accident you would never forgive yourself. Send it, while I put some clean towels in the wash-room, and then I will conic and sit with you till you can come home.” ( She went into n„mi ns she spoke, taking no tyglit, but depend ing on the candles bnliiing iu the office. 1 was rising from my seat to send the telegram, when the door opened and four of the worst characters in the town, led by John Martin, entered the room. Be fore I could speak, twy threw mo baek in my chair, one held a revolver to my head, and John Martin spoke : "Mr. Hill was hero to tell you to stop the up-train. You will not send that message. Listen. The rock is there to stop that train—put there for that pur pose. There is $50,000 in gold in the train. Do yon undersl md ?” “Yon would risk all the lives in the train to rob it!” I cried horror-struck. “Exactly !” was the < _>ul reply. “ ne fiftli is yours if you ki'i* back the. mes ;v TV- .vx;tc*hvd the way along 1” I saw the whole diabolical scheme at once. If the train came it would be thrown off the embankment and easily plundered by the villiaus who would lie in wait there. “Come,” Martin said, “will you join us ?” “Never !” I cried indignantly. “We must force you then. Tie him fast 1” * 1 trembled for Alice. If only my life wore at stake I could 'have borne it bet ter. But even if we were both murdered 1 could not take the blood of the passen gers in the train upon my head. Not a sound cams from the little room as I was tied hand and foot to my chair, bound so securely that I could not move. It was proposed to gag me, but filially con cluded that my cries, if I rffade any > could not he heard, and a handkerchief was bound over my mouth. The door of the wash-room was closed and looked. Alice stood undiscovered, then the light was blown out and the ruffians li ft me, locking tho door after them. There was a long silence. Outside I could hear the step of one of the men pacing up and down, watching. I rubbed my bead against tho wall behind me, and succeeded in getting the handker chief on my mouth to fall around my neck. I had scarcely accomplished this when there was a tap on the inner door. “Robert!” Ahce said. “Yes, love! Speak low, there is a man under my window.” “Are you alone in the roojn ?” “Yes, dear.” “I am going to Postvilie. There is no man under my window, and I cau get out there. I have six long roller towels here knotted together, and I have cut my "white skirt into wide strips to join them. The rope so made reaches nearly to the ground. I shall fasten it to the door knob and let myself down. It will not take long to reach home, saddle Se lim and reach Postvilie in time. Don’t fear for me. When you hear a hen cackling under my window you will know I am safely on the ground.” Little Alice ! My heart throbbed heav ily as I heard her heroic proposal, but I dared not stop her. “Heavens bless and protect you,” I said, and listened for her signal. Soon the cackling noise tokl me the first step of her perilous undertaking was' taken. It was dark, cloudy and threatening a storm, and, as nearly ns I could guess, close upon 9 o’clock. SI e had to go six miles, and I could only wait and pray. I was too much stunned even yet to realize the heroism of this timid woman, starting alone upon the dork ride through a wild country with a storm threatening. Nino o’clock! As the bell of the church clock ceased to strike, a rumble, a flash, told me a thunder storm was • •coming lapidly. Oh, the long, long minutes of the next hour ! Ten o’clock. The rain falling in tor rents. The thunder pealing, lightning flashing! Alice was so fraid of lightning Often I had held her, white as death, trembling, almost fainting, iu such a storm as this. Ilail she feared to start, with the storm in prospect, or was she lying somewhere on the wild road over come by terror, or perhaps stricken by lightening ? Eleven o’clock. The storm was over, though the still night was piky black— | no sound to cheer me, none to make the hideous suspense more endurable. A ! boat of possibilities, like frightful night | mares, chased one another through my ; I tortured brain. • j | Would the next hour never pnss ? | Once the clock tolled midnight, all was j safe. I was drenched with a perspiration wrung from me by mental agony one hour, chilled with horror the next. No words can describe the misery of waiting as the minutes dragged along. In the dead silence a far-off sound struck a thrill of horror to my heart, far exceed ing even the previous agony. Ear, far away a faint whistle came through the air. Nearer and nearer, then the distant rumble of the train growing more and more distinct. Tho midninght up-train was coming swiftly, surely, to certain destruction ! Where was my wife ? Had the rufliiaua intercepted her at the cottage? Was she lying dead somewhere upon the wild load ? Her heroism was of no avail, but was her life saved ? In the agony of that question the approaching rumble of tho train was lost; far nr re did I feel tho bitterness of Alice dead than the hor ror of the doomed lives the train carried. Why had I let her start upon her mad errand ? I tried to move, aud writhed in impo tent fury upon my chair, forcing the cruel cords to tear my flesh as I vaiuly tried to loosen even one hand. The heavy train rumbled past the telegraph office. It was an express train and did not stop at my station ; but as I listened, every sense sharpened by mental torture, it seemed to me that the speed slackened. Listening intently I knew tiiat it stopped at the embankment, ns nearly as I could judge. Not witli the sickening crash I expected, not preceding wails and groans from the injured passengers, but gradu •wllyaijd’n -.uefaHji- A iiKiinenf more and I heard shouts, the crack of firearms, sounds of some conflict. What could it all mean ? The minutes were all hours till I heard a key turn iu the iloor of my prison anil a moment later two tender arms were round my neck and Alice was whispering iu my ear: “They will come in a few miuntes, love, to set you free ! The villiaus left the key in the door 1 I thought of that before I started, but there was a man at the front watching. T crept around the house and I saw him, so I did not dare to be seen.” But have you been to Postvilie ?” “Yes, dear.” “In all that storm?” “Selim seemed to understan L He carried me Rwiftly and surely. I was well wrapped iu my waterproof cloak and hood. When 1 reached Postvilie tlie train had not come up.” “But it is here 1” “Only the locomotive and one car. riage. In that carriage were a sheriff, a deputy sheriff and twenty men armed to the teeth, to capture the gang at tho embankment. I came, too, and they lowered me from the platform when the speed slackened, so that I could run in here (mil toll you.all was safe 1” While we spoke my wife’s fingers had first untied the Land kerchief around my neck, and then, in the dark, found some of the knots of the cord binding me. But I was still tied fast and strong, when there was a rush of many feeet upon the staircase and in another mo ment light and joyful voices. “We’ve captured the whole nine 1” was the good news. “Three, including •John Martin, are desperately wounded, but the surprise was perfect ! Now, old fellow for you !” A dozen clasp-knives at once severed my bonds, and a dozen hands were ex tended in greeting. As for the praise showered on my plucky little wife, it would require a vi hi me to tell half of it. The would-be assassins and robbers were sent for trifll and sentenced to pou al servitude. Alice and I left for a more civilized community the following year. But be fore we went, there was an invitation sent to us to meet a committee from the rai road company at Postvilie. We ac cepted, had a dinner ; were toasted aud presented with a silver tea-service, as a testimonial, irorn the passengers upon the threatened up-train, the company and railroad directors in token of tlieir gratitude for the lives and property saved by my heroine. - The Phenomena of Death, Dr. Frederic B. Marvin gave to the Liberal Club last evening a physician’s view of death, his subject being ‘The Physiology of Death.’ The history of death embraces three i periods, the fabulous, the superstitious ! unil the philosophical. The fabulous i period was in mythological times, in j which death was personified as the god ■ (less Mors, the glance of whose eye was ! fatal ; the superstitions era was that long per,ml in which death was regarded an an instantaueous change ; a stroke that came and cut oil' life from the whole body at oTice. Ours is the philosophical age. 1 The lecturer had experimented on dogs, to discover the order of time in which the senses die. To one dog he gave arsineous acid. The second died instantly upon his introducing a needle into the medulla oblongata; and the third lie bled to death. In the last, the order of death was, sight, taste, smell, hearing, touch, which established the fact that the senses disappear in the same order as they do in sleep. The tinman body is an aggregation cf cells. Life is the segmentation of these colls ; death their disintegration. Each cell dies for itself. Every moment cells are springing into life. Every moment cells are dyirg. Our bodies are composed of these little points. Take them away and there is nothing left of 11s but the con necting shreds. There are dead cells in your body, and when you are dead, there will for some time e ntinue to be living ones. We shall at some time be resolved into carbonic acid, water and the mineral elements. The whole surface of our globe, said the speaker, has been dug over 228 times to bury its dead, even not reckoning the long age of the world which is given it by modern science, and we inhale, we feed upon elements, the very atoms that have been living human beings before. The dead, lie continued, live again, and we g:-eet them in the perfume of the city, in the light flaks- of the snow, in tiie thousand leaves of the forest. Death, the Doctor says, is painless. There is no moment in our lives in which molecular death is not going on in us. The last words of a multitude of persons indicate that mere disintegration is pain less. To die of cold, nftor the first ago ny is over, is a luxury. So is drowning. The smile of death, the placidity of death, comes to all features after the rig or mortis. That is over in three days. —i\ r . r. ISun. Eyes. N° branch of science has been so thoroughly mnstlml as optics. The principle of vision must he essentially the sun < in ail eye?., but they differ re markably, according to the habits of the anima'. Birds of lofty flight, as the condor*, eagles, vui it res, an-I carrion seeking prowlers of ih? feathered race, have tele? • pic visions and arc thus ena bled to look down and discover their un suspected victims. As they approach noise’es y from above, the axis of vision changes—shoriening, so that they can see as distinctly within one foot of the groun 1 as when at an elevation of one mile in the air. The fact explains the balancing, half a mile above a still pond, watching for fisli. When one is selected, down the savage lmnter plunges the focal axis va rying always as the square view is elon gated by a curious mrfscular arrange ment so as to see far off again. Snails have their keen eyes at the ex tremity of flexible horns, which they can protrude or draw in at pleasure. By' windiug one of these rour-d the edge of a leaf or stulk, they can see how matters stand on the opposite side. The hammer-headed shark has its wicked-looking eyes nearly two feet apart. By an effort they can bend the thin edges of the head, on which the or gans are located so as to examine the two sides of an object the size of a full sized codfish. Elies have immovable eyes. They stand out from the head like an apple, exceedingly prominent. Instead of smooth hemispheres, they have an immense number of facets, resembling old fash ioned glass seals, each one directing the light to the optic retina. That explains why they cannot be approached from any direction without seeiug what is coming. Salaries of Circus Riders, James Bobinson, who is generally be lieved says the New York Sun, to he the most dashing and finished bare-back rider now in the ring, has six liueiy trained horses, and Charley Fish who ranks next to him in.this Hue, has four or five. The Melville brothers, three of them, have six horses for their several acts. Frank is a very fine pad and George a bare-back rider. So the list might be extended almost indefinitely In one respect there is a gain to tho gen eral excellence of the profession, as it enables performers not only to bring their horses into higher training for their special lines of business, but. into more thorough accord and understanding with themselves, au element the impor tance of which is fully understood by all equestrians. But the performers them selves grumble that their salaries have not increased in proportion with the added expense to them and the lighten ing of the burdens of the manager. They are only employed less than half the year on an average, but during all the other portion must maintain their horses and Advertising: ItuteM, One square, first, insertion.l Off Bach subsequent insertion..,73r One square three months 10 Off One square six months..,/,..,*, if, Off One square twelve m0nth5...., 20 Off Quarter column twelve months 40 Off Half column six months 60 Off Half colrtvin twelve months ...., to Off One column twelve m0nth5..,,,.....;. \2o W r ron-lines or les« ‘considered • square All fr.it !of sfquarcs are counted as full IHfir. NO. 25. them in training at their own cos 4 / Still they get very comfortable pay.- | Jams Bobinson gets $239 per week for himself alone, and last season got £450 j for himself and two boys. Charles Fsh ! gets about $250 ; tho Melville brothers,, : sllsO, Dockrcll and wife, S3OO. These’ | :lr '\ of course, the largest salaries for equestrians, who are the best paid per sons about a circus below the grade of proprietor but it may be said that the general pay of pad riders runs from SBO to SIOO per week each, and of bare-back riders from SIOO to S2OO, according to their individual excellence and populari ty and the necessities of the manage ment. A Leap Year Scene. They stood together in the < ntry be. neath the hall lamp. “Then, Henry,” she said, in a low voice, wherein were blended determination, melancholy and r “you refuse my suit?” “Yes, Ella," be leplied, in accents that were firm, though the speaker’s voice trembled. “ladmire you ; I will he a brother to you, and watch with pride your conrse through life, and if ever trouble should befall you there will at least be one friend to whom you eau come for succor ; but I can nev er, never be your husband.” “It is not because I am poor, Henry ? For, oh, if that were all, I could toil gladly from morn till night for yon, aud strive and win a home for you, humble it might be, but our own.” “It is useless to attempt to induce mo to change my determina tion. Though I am but a poor weak man, I can never, never change my mind.” “Then, cruel young mnn, so fair, and yet so false, farewell. To-morrow you 1 will sec my mangled remains on the lec ture platform, and know that it has beeß your work But it will be too late,” and clasping him to her bosom in a wild em brace, she fled out into the outer dark ness.—C/i icar/o Tribune. Canine Sagacity. An interesting example of the exorcise of reason on the part of a dog is publish ed in the Philadelphia Medical Times, The. incident happened some thirty years ago, aud is told as follows : “A man named Cosgrove, the keeper of a low tavern near the railroad station, ha I his arm broken, and came many times to the office to have the dressings arranged. He was always accompanied by a largo most, feroeions-looking bull dog, that watched me most attentively, mid most unpleasantly to me, while bindng'ng his master’s arm. A few weeks after Cosgrove’s case was dis charged, I heard a noise at the office floor, ns if some animal was pawing it, and, on opening it, saw there this huge bull-dog, accompanied by another dog that held np one of its front legs evidently broken. They entered the office. I cut seven 1 pieces of wood, and fastened them firmly to the leg with adhesive plaster, after straightening the limb. They left im mediately. The dog that came with Cosgrove’? dog I never saw before nor since.” The Mule. The mule is the most unhealthy ani mal in the world—unhealthy to have around you. He is continually possessed of a yoarn ing desire to stretch himself—especially his hind legs. We have known this yearning to make trouble in several families. Ho is also possessed of a great healing power. No man ever sees a mule kick him. Tho man is usually seized with ob scured visions just at that juncture. We have seen a man get np after a mule had kicked him (very rarely though) and swear with both hands up lifted that he didn’t believe the animal had stirred a peg—he looked so immova ble and unconcerned. A mule is a very quick animal. Great quantities of his substance lie hidden away beneath his toe calks. Asa great explorer, the male is equal to Stanley. When lie goes exploring for a man he always find him. The safest place to stand by a mule does not exist. He is the dynamite fiend of the four legged kingdom. The mule is a very headstrong beast. He is likewise exceedingly heel-strong. A Great Diamond Found. The finding of a 150 carat diamond in 1 South African digging, is reported to day. The value of the diamond discov ered may bo judged from tho fact that the great British crown jewel!, the Ko hiuorr, weighed but 186 carats before it was reent 111 1851. The Orloff diamond, the great Russian jewel, weighs 195 carats, anil is as big ns a pigeon's egg. The great Austrian diamond weigha 139 carats, and is of inferior form and color, and held to be worth, on these accounts* only $500,000. The biggest diamond known, is said to belong to the Sultan of Matan, om the island of Borneo, and to weigh three hundred aud sixty-seven carats, and valued at $3,500,000. The South African diamond will rank fourth or fifth among the precious stones of the world, and the finder can now afford to “lay down the shovel and the Up#.”