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THITWASHINGTON GAZETTE.
B 1 JAS. A. WRIGHT AND HUGH WILSON.
THE WASHINGTON GAZETTE.
TERMS.—-Three Dollars a year in adv&ooe.
ur No Subscriptions taken for a shorter
time than six months.
THE PAPER DIME.
BY ALTA GRANT.
It was a collection day, and Will
had forgotten hiscontribution. There
was the good Superintendent, with
the hat in hia hand, coming straight
totheir class, and ho hadn’t a penny
tc his pocket.
“Here, take this,” said Tom ItiJer,
thrusting into his hand what seemed
to be a silver dime; for this little in
cident took place when silver dimes
woro not so scarce as thoy are now.
Will was very grateful—so grateful
that he did not see the knowing look
in Tom Rider's eyes.
“It’s real clover of Tom,' 1 he said
to himself, as ho dropped the suppos
ed money into bis hat. “i’ll taka a
dime to school, to-morrow, and re
turn it to him.”
After school, however, Tom, think
ing it too good a joke to keep, told
him that he was “sold”; that what
seemed to boa dime, was nothing but
a round bit of pasteboard, such as
hunters nso in loading guns. Will
was indignant, and, boy-like, doubled
up his fists; but the echo of his
teacher’s voice was still in his heart
and putting bis hands behind him he
hurried away without a word.
Not long after, tho superintendent
was surprised to seo Will walk to the
room and lay a silver dime upon the
desk.
“I was afraid you’d think you had
some mighty mean boj-s in school,”
he said, as he mado tho explanation,
but ho did not tell who the moan boy
was.
“God bless yon for your honesty,”
said the Superintendent, when Will
had finished. And the next Sabbath
at tho close of tho usual exorcises, he
told the school tho story of tho paper
dime It seemed a trifling thing, ho
fia : d; but tho boy who would cheat
in'such aw ay VotntT (>e ( ywjr-*rfsSly,
by and by, to commit larger and more
sorious i.’aud, » bile he who was hon
est in such small matters, would sure
ly mako an honest man.
There was no names mentioned,
but Tom Rider's shoopish face told
plainly enough who was the giver of
the counterfeit, and so thorough was
his repentance that nc tec ever
heard of bis doing (ho lik 1 gain.—
Little Corporal.
Good Digestion. — A foreign reviewer
thinks that the advantages of good diges
tion cannot be over-estimated. He says :
“Men who succeed need not have any
subtle minds, or brilliant imagination*, or
marvellous powers of industry. Some in
dustry, some imagination, and some acute
ness, are, doubtless, indispensable. But
the one indispensable factor is a good di
gestion. The laborious man or the indus
trious man is often of an atrabilious tem
perament, gloomy and austere ; or he is
nervous, fldgelty, anxious, and fretful. In
neither case is ho successful. He mlly con
sume gallons of midnight oil on some very
clever or very learned book, but after be
ing a three weeks’ lion, be will And himself
supplanted in the homage of society by
his own book, or by some sharp, quick
witted, off-hand spark, who picks his
brains, repeats bis sayings, appropriates bis
(acts or bis inferences, and gains all the
credit that ie really due to the genius and
industry of a discontented dyspeptic. —.
Who is the successful man I The man
with a good stomach, ample barrel, broad
face, glowing cheeks, and a ruddy smile,
which may denote good humor, sympathy,
or perfect indiflerenee. Who does not
know the capital good fellow of society,
with his rosy gills, habitnal smile, and
white teeth, his little inuendoes, and his
significant looks, indicating that be know,
your latest secret and last formed plan* ?”.
A. little boy who was asking his
mother how many Gods there were,
was instantly answered by his youn
ger brother, “Why, one, to be aure.”
“But how do you know that ?” in
quired the other. “Because,” he re
plied, “God fills every place, and
there is no room for any other.”
Some folks are prodigiously penitent
over other people’s sins, and seem to think
they have a special call to confess them f
before the whole world. They will gouge i
their brother’s eyes out rather than leave
a giugle mote in them. At (he same time
they are singularly blind respecting their
own failings.
Be ye moderate.
AIR, LIGHT, WATER.
How beneficent is the adaptation
to man’s wants of the atmosphere that
surrounds us 1 It Is slrango that our
life should depend on our being con
stantly immersed in a vast ocean of
gaseous fluid I How wonderful that
this should at once supply tho ele
ments by which tho vital current is
sustained within us, and carry off the
poisonous vapors that aro constantly
exhaled from us, and which, if not
carried oft’, would very soon destroy
us! How strango that a masswlnah
presses upon us with a weight of fif
teen pounds to the square inch should,
through the operation of a simple
law, instead of crushing us, keep us
in a state of elasticity-, and give us
lliepowerot niovirg! How wonder
ful that an agent capable of wafting
the largest fleets across tho deep, or of
levelling the strongest buildings with
the dust, should lie around us softer
than a downy cushion, and be capable
of being pushed asido by’ an infant's
hand! And what a multitude of uses
this atmosphere serves! By r it we
breathe; by it wo it wo hear;
by it the earth is at once warmed and
cooled; by it the vapors ascend and
foim clouds; by it the rain descends
to moisten and fertilize the earth ; by
it tiie life of plants and animals is
preserved ; by it tho beat of one zone
is tempered by the cold of another,
and an equilibrium of temperature
approximaled over the globe. To se
cure these results, at loast three dis
tinct kinds of motion are constantly
going on in tho atmosplioro; and yet
iho-e notions never materially inter
fere with each other, and each is so
easily and perfectly performed that it
might seem as if the "solo end of the
atmosphere was to perform it nlone.
If, in tbp arrangements by which such
results are secured from generation to
generation, wo are struck with evi
dences 01 the Creator’s wisdom and
power, do not tbq manifold advantages
which accrue from those to sentiment
Jimnj'. proclaim to usalso the good nets
sJPVBS fZfttr ‘IT t •
The atmosphere naturally suggests
to-us the subject of light. What a
boon is light 1 “Truly the light is
sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for
the eyes to,behold .the sun.” But it
might have been otherwise. The
most painful thing to us might have
been to see tho light, and to behold
cbe sun. If light come to us, as somo
tench, in straight lines from tho sun,
and is transmitted with a velocity a
million and a half times greater than
that of a cannon ball, why does it not
atiiko us with a forco sufficient to
cause us exquisite pain, if Lot utterly
to destroy us? Or if it is producod,
is others teach, by tho undulations ol
a subtle and highly elastic ether, bow
comes it that it salutes tho eye so plea
-autly, so that we are unconscious of
anything but a generally diffused and
unbtoken radiance? Why should
waves of light powerfully affect the
eye, while waves of heat, proceeding
from tbo same cause, only slightly
affect that delicate organ, which oth
erwise they might seriously injure?
Why should light come to us in the
pleasant furrn of daylight, and not in
great masses of fiery red, or glaring
yellow, or dazzling white ? What an
swer can wc give to theso questions
except this, that Ho who created the
light and formed tho eyo has so ad
justed the one to the other that the
action of the fore er upon the latter
becomes to man it source of ei joymerit
and net of distress or pain ? And what
ie this but another evidence how full
is the earth of the goodness of tho
Lord ?
How is tho goodness of God seen in
tho plentiful supply toman of water !
What a boon to sentient creation is
the ocean—the source of rain, and
rivers, and lakes—the grettt highway
of nations—the grand cooler, refiesh
or, and purifier of the dry and dusty
earth ! Bet what a frightful sourco
of mischief and misery it might be
come ! “Tho rivers,” says the prea,
cher, “run into the sea, and yet it is
not full." That is a fact worth think
ing about. It is not remarkable that
the average magnitude of the ocean
should remain permanently fixed ?
that from year to year, from century
!to century, from millennium to mil
lennium, that mighty mass of wators,
\ incessantly in motion, incessantly uo
j dergding changes, should io quan
tity remain \ o n the whole tue same?
And what a J benefit t^j 9 j a to m an !
Suppose the/sea werep become fuller
WASHINGTON, WILKES COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY, MAY 15, 1868.
day by day, what would be the con
sequence ? Ere long a universal de
luge would ensue. Scientific men tell
us that the addition to tho sea of one
fourth of tho existing waters, would
drown the whole of the globe except
ing a few of tfio higbq.4 .mountain
ranges. YVhatJs it that prevents that
fatal one-ftVimh 'from being added to
tho ocean ? Or suppose the body of
water in tho sea woro to ho consider
ably diminished, what would bo the
consequence? The consequenco would
be that tho conditions of animal and
vegetable life all over tho world would
bo disturbed and altered; climates
would ho materially . changed; the
quantity of moisture distributed over
tho land would be diminished ; and
all this would produce results of tho
most serious kind both to man and
beast- But why is it that this dimi
nution does not happen ; has not hap
pened all through tho centuries? On
ly because God has orderod it, other
wise, and has placed tho ocean under
tho operation of laws which secure
its regular and benignant agency;
only because He keeps his covenant
with man that a deluge shall not again
cover the earth; only because He has
made ordinances for man’s well-boing,
aid those “ordinances of heaven” do
not fall. —Sumlgg Magazine.
THE BOY AND THE BEE.
Little Johnny was just throe years
old. Os course he had seen very lit
tle of tho world, and had very much
to learn ; so, one warm bright after
noon, while playing in the gardon, ho
learnt a lesson which he re mem hors
yot.
In tho rich green grass a bright
yellow dandelion caught bis eyes;
but ho did not notice a brownish look
ing spot about tho middle of the
flower. That spot was nothing leas
than a merry bee, which hud come
singing through tho air, in search of
honey and wax, and stopped to see
if that flower had any for him.
Quick.as tlu ugludown weal Johnny's
fat lit.tie hand, and back again- it came
as quickly, cringing, in its grasp,
fi iwer, beo, and all!
•The poor Ix-e was, doubtless, very
much Surprised at this sudden assault
—to find his hohcy'-gatheiii'g’so rude
ly stopped. But ho was not willing
to give np his lito without an effort;
und so, twisting his little body round
ho sent his sharp, poisoned sting deep
into Johnny’s band. Tho nurse heard
a scream, and while she ran to his
aid, the beo unfolded his wings and
set out incriily lor homo.
But tho sting hud not only marked
Johnny’s hand, but had written this
ioß.son iu bis memory,—that some
times very pretty things havo very
sharp stinga.
Sin often looks very inviting; but
the Bibio tells us that “the sting of
death is sin.”
A little boy once askod his mother
for a peach. Site asked him if ho
had not- already eaten one. To got
another, he told u lie, and said, “No.”
But after lio went lo bod, that lio
stung him so sharply, that bo was
afraid to go to sleep till ho had culled
his mother, confessed his sin, and ask
ed her pardon.
I hope my young readers will ro
momber tho lesson which Johnny
learnt with so much pain.— Child's
Own Magazine,
NIGHT SCENE IN THE DESERT.
A caravan presents in tbo evening
a very active and cheerful scene.
Tho camels, which had been turned
out to graze as soon as. they had hal
ted and been unloaded, now return in
separate groups, eacli of which, fol
lowing tho bell of its leader, proceeds
directly to the spot where its master’s
tent is pitched.
When arrived there, the docile an
imals lie down of their own accord in
a row, and their heads are attached
by halters to a rope, which is fastened
to a rarr'ge of stakes about four feet
high, extending along the front of the
camp. They aro then fed with large
balls composed of barloy-mod and
lentils, mixed up with water, which
they swallow whole, and are left to
ruminate till morning. As soon as
tho nigh’t clones in fires begin to blaze
in every direction. Thoy aro made
with dry thorns and stunted shrubs,
j collected round tho camp, and their
flames throw a bright light on tbo dif
| ferent groups of travelers who are
seen squatted on the ground in front
of their tents, or beside their piles of
merchandize, somo occupied with their
pipes and coffee, and others enjoying
their frugal evoning’s meal.
In an Oriental company, of what
ever class it is composed, the harsh
sounds of vulgar merriment aro never
to be heard; alow hum of conversa
tion spreads through tho camp, and
as the evening advancos, this gradu
ally sinks into a sileuco, disturbed on
ly hy tho occasional lowing of the
camels. All thosa who hive once
tried it, speak of a caravan as a very
agreeable mode of traveling.
. The wild ami solitary scenery through
which It generally passes, the order and
tranquility with which it is conducted, the
facility of convoying baggage, and the
feeling of security w hich prevails, amply
compensate for the slowness of its move
ments ; and among hundreds of persons
collected from the most distant parts of
the Turkish Empiro and the neighboring
St“tes, many of whom have spent their
lives in iraveling, there ia to be found a
never-failing variety of associates and of
anecdotes.
ADAPTATION OF THE MOUNTAIN
REGIONS OF THE DAIRY FAR
MING AND STOCK BREED
ING.
IJY A. It. VALLEE.
The opiniou, which has heretofore
generally prevailed, that tho north
ern portions of the United Stales are
bettor adapted to tho purposes of
stock and dairy farming than the
southern, is gradually boing removed
by successful experiments,, showing
not only' that this impression is foun
ded in error, but establishing, oonoiu
sively, the converse of this proposi
tion; that is, that in all tho essentials
for profitable stock and dairy’ farming
a large portion of tho Southern Slaton
possesses advantages incomparably
superior to those presented by terri
tory fuithcr north.
Beginnii g at or near a point on
the 35,1 b degree of north latitude, 100
nfritos-WrcTii the Atlantic Coast, ’and
preceding in a south-west-ward direc
tion, as far down as tho 84t;i degree,
wo find an expanse of couulry embra
cing about 180,000 square miles, the
geological and ell tautological ebaruo
terisiicsof which give toil advanta
ges for dairy husbandry unequaled
in any other portion of tho United
Slates, of the same extent.
Tb s area of say, GOO miles iu length
by’ 300 in width, iuuludes largo por
tions of Virginia and Tennessee, w ith
considerable purls of Kentucky,
North Carolina, Georgia, and Alaba
ma, and a small portion of South.
Carolina and Mississippi.
Tho natural configuration of this
vast region is not the least of tho ma
ny desirable advantages it presents.
It is situated many ieet above tiJe
water, funned by tho purest atmos
phere, and supplied with salubrious
streams. Having a high and dry
rango so conduotivo to tho healthful
mess of stock and presenting a suc
cession of mountain and valley, it af
fords the most ample defence against
the heat of [summer, as well as the
bloak winds of winter. Artificial
protection, indispensable at th« North
yet so apt to induce discuse, is thus
rendered unnecessasy in this most fa
vored situation.
These valley, or mountain gorges
aro most prolific in a variety of her
nage suitahlo for cows and, during
winter, they afford a supply of pas
turage so abundant that very little
additional is required. Especially is
this the case when a portion of the
rango is reserved for the winter sea
son, which is tho proper course,
llenco the cows have access to a con
tinuous supply of green food, by
which the secretary organs are re
tained in full action, and an uninter
rupted flows of milk is promoted;
while cases of constipation, frequent
ly fatal at the North, by reaaou of
sudden changes from green to dry
s od, aro unknown hero, there being
scarcely a day in the year io which
cows cannot find sufficient green food
to keep their digestive organs in
hoallhy condition.
Many of tho moro elevated por
tions of this region are so naturally
disposed to grass that it is only nec
essary to-clear out the undergrowth
which can be done at an expense of
about $2 per acre—when the indigen
ous grasses, such as Timothy,’{blue*
grass, white clover, &c., will immedi
lately spring up and tako possession
of tho land. There aro few ranges of
anv ex-cut tliut d'> not furnish ample
quantities of arable land for all pur- !
poses of the dairy farmer; and thoy
frequently include a fair proportion
of excellent meadow land. The soil
in this region is generally good, and
it is by no means uncommon to find
it fertile even to the tops of the
mountains; and although there are
to bo found considerable bodies of
thin soil, j’ot even theso are moro
disposed to the production of crass
than lands of a bettor quality fur
ther sou'll.
A comparative statement of the
expense of maintaining cows at tho
North and in this Southern country
will exhibit the decided superiority
of tho latter, and materially assist us
in forming corroct conclusions. We
shall find over the average expense of
wintering cows at the north to be
about §2O per head, while in the re
gion herein treated of it does not ex-1
ceod ono fifth tho ahovo amount; and 1
in most winters, when the snow does I
not lie moro than a day or two at a
time, tho cost of wintering is hardly
worth computing. This xliff rence in
tho expense of maintaining stock is
considerably widened when we
contrast tho value of lands in the
respective districts. Thoso at the
North, we may safely piace at an av
©rage price of §2O per acre, while in
the Southern rogion any quanity of
lands suitable for dairying can bo pur
chased at an average of §l, and many
largo tracts at’half that pi ice, or even
loss; thus affording deoided advanta
ges to poisons of small capital.
That the climate of the Northern
States is more favorable to the pro
duction of butter and cheese than the
rogion to which wo refer, repeat! and
experiments are disproving, The nu
merous cool moiirituio streams afford
Splonded silos for the erection of
ciiotse factory and associated dairys.
That this will be an important and
liicralivo branch of husbandry in this
region in a few yearo we have not the
lea-t doubt.
HOW PERFORMING BIRDS ARE
TAUGHT.
A “conjuror” who is performing in
Hartford, explains to the Courunt the
manner in w hich his birds and mice
were taught their tricks.
There is us much difference in the
disposition and receptiveness of birds,
us there is in human persons. Even
an experienced bird trainer is unable
to say wiih certainty of anew bird
that he can leach him this or that
feat. One bird may show a natural
aptitude and fili-i-sa lor ladder per
formances, another for drawing a
wagon, still unothor lor firing a can
non, and a fourth for rope walking.
These little peculiarities and idiosyn
craeios of tho bird-mind have to be
consulted and tho training governed
hy them. Tho littlo canary which
goes up and down the ladder was eigh
teen months before itdeveloped any
genius for anything. Finally the lad
der feat was thought of, and tho little
fellow acquiesced, and is now a star
performer in that branch of bird gym
nastics. On the other hand, the
beautiful Australian paroquet which
draws tho littlo carriage containing
two other birds, and harnesses and
unharnesses himself at tho word of
command, has only been in training a
few weeks, and another which has
just entorod in the same department
already displays great proficiency.
Tho means adopted by tho great ma
gician to make tho little fellow thrust
his hcad’tbrough the collar and draw,
aro very amusing. Tbo paroquets
have a strange weakness for biting,
and are apt to seizo a person’s finger
in their beaks, when opportunity pre
sents. Tho trainer takes advantage
of this propensity, and having placed
him between the shafts of tho minia
ture barouebo, presents his finger just
outside the collar. Instantly tho bird
runs Iris head through and seiz s the
finger. The trainer skilfully disenga
ges it, and tho little bird starts on a
home run for its Cage, drawing the
wagon. A little experience teaches
him to disengage his head before
reaching tho cage, in time to prevent
bumping it, and ho hops into the door
in triumph. This lesson repeated
again and again, he soon learns what
is expected of him, and performs his
allotted duty without tho imposition
of tho alluring finger.
This same patient and preserving
system is employed in teaebi-g “the
!young idea how to shoot” the little
! cannon. His Java sparrows are train
ed for his labor. Tnc first thing is to
teach them to hop upon the little bar
VOL III—NO. 4.
which lets the match fall oo the pow
der. This thoroughly learned, the
next step is to accustom tham to the
smoke of tho fuso without flying
away. Then comes the hardest task
of all—to teach the little fellows stea
diness nndor fire, that they may stand
at their post without wincing or mo
ving after the shock and noise of the
discharge. This, of course, requires
immense patience and innumerable
trials, hut at last the bird learns bis
duty und stands to his gun like a vet
eran artillerist. By similar means is
the education of the bird feigning
death, rope walking, and iike feats
accomplished.
The mice, pretty littlo white fel
lows, with pink eyes like rabbits, have
their proper system of training
They aro induced to climb ropes or
poles hy plaoing them at the base, and
heading them in the right direotion,
|and gently pinching their long tails,
j They are led to carry a flag in their
I mouths by presenting the staff before
! their mouths repeatedly, and finally
| the mouse expects to find the little
i stuff ready tor him at the top of the
pole, so he takes the one he finds
lightly inserted there and brings it
down. In all these transactions, tho
only means employed are kindness
und unwearying patience. Birds and
mico are kept well fed. There is no
appeal to hunger, and of course they
o unot be punished in any way.
Tbo big cat which occupies the
cage in common with the birds and
mice, is an ill-tempered brute, and was
only prevailed upon to forego his de
signs of subsisting on tho other ocou?
pants of the cage by constant watch
ing and repeated application of a
small hot wire to his nose, when ho
manifested his intentions. He ex->
bausiß bis whole talent in firing off a
cannon and wearing a brass collar
with a hell attached
LIFE LENGTHENED.
1. Cultivate an equable temper;
many a man has fallen dead in a fit of
passion.
2. Eat regularly, not over thrice a
day, and nothing between meals.
3 Go to bed ut regular hours. Get
up as soon as you wake of yourself,
und do nut sloop in day-time, at least
not tongor than ten minutes before
noon.
4. YVoik always by the day, and
not by the job.
5 Slop win king before you aro ve
ry much tired—before you are “fagged
out.” itU
U Cullivato n generous and an ac
e -mmodatiug temper.
7. Never cross a bridge before you
come to it; this will save half the
troubles of lifo.
8. Never eat when you are not hun
gry, nor drink when you are not
thirsty.
9. Let your appetite always come
uninvited.
10. Cool off in a place greatly war
mer than the one in which you have
been exercising; this Bimple rule
woulo prevent incalculable sickness
and save millions of lives every year.
11. Never resist a call of nature for
a single moment.
12. Never allow yourself to be
chilled “through and’ throughit is
this which destroys so many every
year, in a few days’ sickness, from
pneumonia, called by some lung fever
or iiiflamation of tbo longs.
13. Whoever drinks no liquids at
meals will add years of pleasurable
existence to bis life. Os cold or warm
drinks, the former are most perni
cious; drinking ut meals induces per
sons lo eat more than thoy otherwise
would, as any one can verify by ex
periment, and it is excess in eating
which devastates the land with sick
ness, suffering and death.
14. After fifty years of age, if not
a duy laborer, and sedentary persons
after fony, should cat but twice a
day, in tho morning and about four in
the afternoon; persons can soon ac
custom themselves lo a seven hour in
terval between eating, thus giving tho
stomach rest; for every organ with
out adequate rest will “give out" pre
inai urely.
15. Bogin early to live under the
benign influences of the Christian re
ligion, f'pr it “has the promise of the
li'.e l hat now is ar and of that which ia to
come. — Halts Journal of Health.
Win. C- Rives, formerly United
Slates Minister lo Franco, and Sena
tor from Virginia, died in Charlottes
ville, Ya., April 25th, aged seventy
five.