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THE WASHINGTON GAZETTE
BY JAS. A. WRIGHT AND HIGH WILSON.
THE WASHINGTON GAZETTE.
TERMS.—Three DeUu* * yeariu advance.
fST* No Subscriptions taken for a shorter
time than six months.
A COURTEOUS MOTHER
During tbe whole of one of last sum
mer's hottest days I had the good fortune
to be seated in a railway car near a moth
er and four children, whose relations with
each other were so rarely beautiful that the
pleasure of watching them was quite
enough to make one forget the discom
forts of the journey.
It was plain that they wore poor; their
clothes were coarse and old, and had beeu
made by inexperienced hands. The moth
er’s bonuet aione would have been euougli
to have condemned the whole party on auy
of tbe world’s thoroughfares. I remem
bered afterwards with shame, that I my
self had smiled at the first sight of its an*
tiquated ugliness; but,her face was one
which it gave you a sense of rest to look
upon—it was so earnest, tender, true, and
strong. It had little comeliness of shape
or color iu it; it was thin, and pale, and
livid ; she was not young ; she had worked
hard; she liad evidently been much ill;
blit I have seen few faces which gave mo
such pleasure. L think that she was the
wife of a poor clergyman; and I think
that clergy man must bo one of the Lord’s
best watchmen of souls. The children
two boys and two girls—were all under
the age of twelve, and the youngest could
not speak plainly. They had bad a rare
treat; they had been visiting the rnoun
tains, and they were Lalkiug over all the ;
wonders they had seen, with a glow of
enthusiastic delight which was to be en-;
vied. Only a word-for-word record would
do justice to their conversation ; no de
scription could give any idea of it—so*
free, so pleasant, so genial, no interrup
tiofis, m contradictious; and the mother's ;
part borne ah the while with such equal j
interest and eagerness that no one not I
seeing her face would dream that she was
any other Ulan au ehlci sinter. In the
course of' the day there were many ceea
-B@qffls*Sa, to, aMr .vjrvioe*, especially
from the eldest boy ; but no young girl,
anxious to please a lover, could have done
either with a more tender courtesy. Rite
find her reward ; for no lover could have
been more teudei and manly than was this
boy of twelve. Their lunch was simple
and scanty; but it had the graee- of a :
royal banquet. At the hot, the mother j
produced with much glee three apples and :
an orange, of w hich the children bad not
known. AII eyes fastened on the orange.!
It was evidently a great rarity. I watch
ed to see if this test would bring out sel
fish ness. There was a little silence: just
the shade of a cloud. The mother said :
“How shall I divide this? There is one
for each o! you; and I shall be best off
of all, for I expect big tastes from each of
you.”
“0, give Annie the orange. Annie
loves oranges,” spoko out the oldest boy,
with a sudden air of a conqueror, and at
the same time taking tbe smallest and
worst apple himself.
“O yes, let Annie have the orange,”
echoed the second boy, nine years old.
“Yes, Annie may have the orange, be
cause that is nicer than tbe apple, and she
s a lady, and her brothers are gentlemen,”
said the mother, quietly. Then there was
a merry contest as to who should feed tbe
mother with largest and most frequent
mouthfuls; and so tbe feast went on.
Then Annie pretended to want apple, and
-exchanged thin golden strips of orange
for bites out of the cheeks of Baldwins :
and, as I sat watching her intently, she
suddenly fancied sho saw longing in my
Lee, aDd sprang over to me, bolding out
a quarter of her orange, and saying,
“Don’t you want a taste, too?” The
mother smiled, understandingiy, when I
said, “No, I thank you, you dear, gener
ous little girl; I don’t care about oran
ges."
At Doon we had a tedious interval of
waiting at a dreary station. We sat for
two hours on a narrow platform, which
the sun had scorched till it smelled of
heat.. The oldest boy—the little lover—
held the youngest child, and talked to her,
w hile the tired mother closed her eyes and
rested. Now and then he looked over at
her, and then back at the baby ; and at
last he sai l confidentially to me (for we
had become fast friends by this lime);
“Isn't it funny, y> think that I was ever so
so small as this baby? And papa says
that then mamma' was almost a little girl
herself.” *
The two other children were toiling up
and down tbe banks of tbe railroad track,
pickling ox eye daisies, buttercups, and
sorrel. They worked like beavers, and
eon the bunches were almost too big for
their little hands' Then they caae run
ning to give them to their mbthor. “0
dear,” thought I, “how that poor tired
woman will hate to open her eves; and
she never can take those great bunches of
wilting, worthless flowers, in addition to
ail her-bundles and bags.” I was mista
ken.
“0 thank you, my darlings! How kind
you werel Poor, hot., tired, little flowers,
how thirsty they look! If they will only
try and keep alive till we get home, we
will make them very happy in some wa
ter ; won’t we ? And you shall put one
bunch by papa’s plate, and one by mine.”
Sweet and happy, the weary and flushed
little children stood looking up in her fae e
while she talked, their hearts thrilling with
compassion for the drooping flowers and
with delight in the giving of their gift.
Then she took great trouble to get a string
and tie up the flowers, and then the train
came and we were whirling along again.
Soon it grew dark, and little Annie’s head
nodded. Then I heard the mother say to
the oldest hoy, “Dear, are you too tired to
let little Annie put her head on your shoul
der and takes nap? We shall get her
home in much better case to see papa if
we can manage to give her a little sleep.”
How many boys of twelve hear such
words as these from tired, overburdened
mothers ?
Soon came the city, the final station,
with its hustle and noise. I lingered to
watch my happy family, hoping to see the
father. “Why, papa isn’t here 1” exclaim
ed one disappointed little voice after an
other. “Never mind," said the mother,
with a still deeper disappointment in her
own tone; “perhaps ho had to go to see
some poor body who is sick." In the
hurry of picking up all the parcels, and
j the sleepy babies, the poor daisies and
buttercups were left forgotten in a corner
|of the rack. I wondered if the mother
had uot intended this. May Ibo forgiven
! for the injustice! A few minutes after, I
| passed the li l tie group, standing still just
! outside of the station, and hoard the bid
’ tber say, “O my darlings, I have forgotten
your ptettv bouquets. lam so sorry I I
wander if 1 could find them if 1 went
•>ack. Will ,dl bvauu still and not stir
from this spot if I go?”
“O mamma, don’t go, don’t go. We
will get you borne more. Don’t go,” cried
all the children.
“Here are your flowers, madam,” said I.
“I saw that you had forgotten them, and I
took them as inenSlntoes of you and your
: weet children.” She blushed and looked
| disconcerted. She was evidently unused
:to people, and shy with all hut her chil—
! diet). However, she thanked me sweetly,
■ and said:
“T was very sorry about thorn. The
children took such trouble to get them ;
and I think they will revive in water.
They cannot be quite dead. v
“They will never die!” said I, with an
emphasis which went from my heart to
hers. Then all her shyness fled. She
knew rne; and we shook hands, and
smiled into each other’s eyes with the
smile of kindred as we parted.
As I followed on, I heard the two chil
dren, who were walking behind, saying to
each other: “Wouldn’t that have been too
bail. Mamma liked them so much, and
we never could have got so many all at
once again.”
“Yes, vreeould, too, next summer,” said
the boy, sturdily.
They are sure of their “next summers,”
I think, all six of those souls—children,
and mother, and father. They may never
again raise so many ox-eyed daisies and
buttercups “all at once.” Perhaps some
of the little bands have already picked
their last flowers. Nevertheless, their
summers are certain. To such souls as
these all trees, either here or in God’s lar
ger country, are trees of life, with twelve
manner of fruits and leaves for healing;
and it is but little change from the sum
mers here, whose sues burn and make
weary, to the summers there, of which
“the Lamb is the light.”
Heaven bless them all, whsrever they
are.
Bots in Hobbes. —" Deferring to the
statement made in the United States
Agricultural Deport for 1864, Col. J.
Hamilton writes from Daleigh, N. C.,
to tbe Department of Agriculture,
stating that he has a recipe from Dr.
Gee, of Florida, which he has not
tested, but will do so on necessity
showing itself. He says:
“You are aware that it is hard some
times to distinguish between an at
tack of the bots and one of the colic;
tbe following remedy, however, is
equally efficient for either. The rea
son that a bot can resist the action of
agents administered is bis power of
drawing his bead into the walls of the
stomach by his tentacles. But he
cannot resist chloroform. A table-
WASHINGTON WILKES COUNTY, GA, FRIDAY, JULY 3, 1808.
spoonful of chloroform screened by a
couple spoonfuls of any good mucil
age will make him let go his hold
even after having bored nearly
through.”
CHILDLIKE TRUST.
One beautiful afternoon in the Autumn
of 1852, a stranger might have been seen
strolling along the seashore at D
Presently, for the better enjoyment of the
view, he took the upper path leading
along the cliffs which form the chief at
ti action of that part of the coast. The
path is iu itself a picturesque one, sloping
bauks of brush wood descending to the
sands, every here and there broken in up
on by rugged cliffs.
As Mr. C walked slowly along ga
ting on the sunset tints, already beginning
to shed a glory over both sea and land he
was startled by the sound of many little
voices, which made him aware of two
facts—that lie was not alone; and that
what had seemed to him a mere bank of
tangled brushwood, was that child's para-*-
dise, a thicket of bramble bushes laden with
their deep purple fruit. Ho stood for >
little, watching the children, as they rush
ed fearlessly iuto tiro thick tangle to seoure
the prize. But the time passed more
quickly than he thought of, and to shor
ten his walk he descended one of the
sloping hanks, intending to return by the
sands.
Passing along rather in haste, his ear
caught a sound of lamentation, which
contrasted strangely with the ringing
laughter which ho had just been listening
to ; itßeemod the sobbing of a little break
ing heart. Mr. C hastened to the
rock from whiek the sound came, and
found a little child sitting in agony of
weeping. At first she seemed afraid of
him ; but when he spoko kindly, and asked
her to tell him what was the matter .that
ho might help her, she managed to sob
out amidst her tearß :
‘Olq sir, they have all got tinneys but
me.’ ' '
Her deeply stained mouth nod pinafore
proved that she bad done her bqgt to
a share ofthe sfioil; but as sho said, every
time she slipped her foot the berries fell.
Mr. C bade her dry her eyes
now and go home, but meet him the fol
lowing bveuing at the same rock, and
•ho would have a little pitcher like the
rest. With a look of wandering delight,
she dropped a courtesy and ran away.
Reaching her mother’s cottego, she rtm
in breathless to tell her story. She, poor
woman, lay in bed, weary with sickness
and want, and listened to her little Susan
with a smile at her eagerness and impa
tience for to-morrow to come.
‘That was very kind, Susan,’ she said :
‘but you dou’t know the gentleman.'
“Oh, no,’ said Susan ; ‘hut he promised
it, mother, ane I’m sure lie will do it.’
Next evening, when the happy hour
came, she ran away full of joyful expecta
tion. ‘My trusting child I’ was her moth
er’s thought; she can believe the words of
a stranger, while I—l have doubted the
love that I have so long tried and so often
proved.’ When Susan returned to spread
her treasure before her, it was exclaiming •
‘Oh, mother, I have got more than he
promised; he has given me both a basket,
and a tinny I’.And that night the simple
trust of her child brought new light to
this mother’s heart, so that she who had
begun the day in the midst of unbelief
and doubt could rest at last on the prom
ise, ‘My God shall supply all your need,
atcording to His riches in glory by Jesus
Christ.’
‘Out of the mouths of Babes and suek
lings hast thou ordained strength.’-
How to Raise Fruit Every Year.
—ls rightly understood, few trees,
unless absolutely dead or rotten, need
occupy ground without yielding a
plenteous crop. After a long and va
ried series of experiments, I gradu
ally adopted the following modes: As
soon as the winter had sufficiently
disappeared, and before the sap as
cends, I examine my trees; every
dead bough is chopped off; when sap
has risen sufficiently to show whore
the blossoms will bo, I cut away all
the other branches having nono on,
and also the extremity of overy limb,
the lo wer part of which bears a con
siderable number of buds, thus con
centrating the sap of the tree upon
the maturbation of first sweed of fruit.
You may think this injures the trees,
but it does not; for you wilf find
troes laden with fruit, which formerly
yieldod nothing. Os course all other
well-known precautions must be at
tended to; such as cutting out worms
from the roots, placing old iron on tho
limbs, which acts as a tonic to tho
sap, etc. Try it, yo who have failed
in raising fruit.— Mural Gentleman.
CULTIVATE A TASTE FOR READING
It requires but little effort, in most
instances, to instill into the minds of
the young a love for reading. There
m a certain charm, so to spoak, which
t*> the infant’s oye, oncirclos tho book
cr papor, the offspring of curiosity,
np doubt, but which, if properly ap
jiiod by tho parent, grows and
strengthens as tho mind developed,
til a lasto for roading becomes firm
ly established, and its gratification
Ute source of tho highest enjoyment.
TJnlikd most earthly pleasures, that
dt rived from reading benefits while it
ggaaaes, and thus confers a doublo
blessing upon its recipient.
ISays Sir John Ilorsohelllf I was
te pray for a taste which would stand
m ■ instead, under evory variety of
circumstance, and be a source of hap
piness and cheerfulness to mo through
life, and a shield against its ills, how
ever things may go amiss, and tho
world frown upon me, it would boa
tape for reading. I speak of it, of
course, only as a worldly advantage,
and not in the slightest degree as su
perseding or derogating from the
higher offices, and surer and stronger
psrsoply of religious principles; but
asto taste, an instrument, and a mode
oftpleasurablo gratification. Givo a
mdn this taste, and means of gratify
ing it, and you can hardly fail of ma
king aihappy man, unless, indeed, you
ptr in his hands a perverse selection
of books. You may place him in con
taht with the best of society in overy
period of history; with tlio wisest
and wittiest, with tho londorost, iyid
the;, bravest, and the purest characters
wife havo adorned humanity; you
imiTe him a denizen of all nations, a
cOnwlnporary of all ajjes. The world
has hnon created for him. It is hard
jy visible but tho character should
taj; a highor and hotter tone from
tb *o' - 1 ant habit of- associating in
MjjO?? with a clJs* of thinkers, to
■ IW'YSIL «t- ■ ■ .vgr
in "3Wunity. It is morally impossi
ble abut that tho manners should tako
a tiwgo of good breeding and civiliza
tion, from having constantly before
our eyes the way iri which the best
informed men havo talked and con
ducted themselves in their intercourse
with each other. Thoro is a gontlo,
but perfectly irresistible coercion iu
the habit of reading, well-directed,
over tho whole tenor of a man’s char
acter and conduct, which is not the
leash-effectual because it works insen
sibly, and becauso it is the last thing
he dreams of.
Chkist oca Guest.—When one of
the boys in an orphan’s home had said the
grace, ,‘Corae, Lord Jesus, he our guest,
and bless what thou bast provided,” a lit
tle fellow looked up and said:—
“Do tell me why the Lord Jesus never
comes 1 We ask him every day to sit
with us and he never comes.”
“Dear Child only believe, and you may
be sure he will come, for ho does not
despise your invitation.”
“I shall set him a seat,” said the little
fellow ; and just then there was a knock
at the door. A poor frozen apprentice en
tered begging a night’s lodging. He was
made welcome; the chair stood empty
for hi m ; every child wanted him to have
liis plate; and one was lamenting that his
bed was too small for the stranger, who
was quite touched by sucii uncommon at
tentions. The little fellow had been
thmkiag all the time:
“Jesus could not come, so he sent this
poor hoy in his place—is that it V
“Yes, dear child, that is just it. Every
piece of bread and every drink of water
that we give to the poor, or the sick
or tbe prisoners, for Jesus’ sake, we
give to him. ‘lnasmuch as ye have done
it unto one of the least of these my breth
ren, ye have done it unto me.’”
Crowing Hens. —“ Why shouldn’t
we crow ?” said the speckled hen.
“Why, not?” said the white hen.
“Why not ?” said all tbe hens, as the
question went round. “YYo are as
clever, as strong, as handsome, and as
good every way, as that domineering
old cock; in my opinion we are su
perior,” said the speckled lion. “And
in mine,” said tho white hen. “And
in mine,” said all tho hens, much im
pressed and excited by this now view
of things. So they practiced, and
stretched out their necks, and stuck
their heads on one side, all in imita
tion of the old cock, and a very re
markable noise they made. “Hey
day I” said Drover, stopping as he ran
through the yard, to liston to the
hubbub; “my dear eroatures what
are you at? Give up this nonsense.
While you keep to clucking, you are
highly respectable; but when you
ake to crowing, you can’t think
what ridiculous figures you cut.
Keep to clucking, dears, keep to cluck
ing I”
NARROWNESS OF PROFESSIONAL
‘MEN.
The following extract suggests a danger
ngaiust which lawyers, doctors and minis
ters ‘should guard themselves:
Every vocation or profession lias its pe
culiar or special tendencies, affecting inju
riously those who embrace and follow it;
tendencies that givo them one-sidedness,
i.incompleteness; tendencies that cripple
them, mutilate them, paralyze or cut away
something that ought to belong to a health
ful, vigorous, whole-souled, whole hearted
manhood. When these tendencies are not
perceived nnd acknowledged, and allowed
to havo their own way, the result is any
thing but desirable, true or honorable to
such as are marked by it strongly. Law
yers are iu danger of getting a chronic I
suspicion of human nature; a notion that
all men are rogues until tliey are proved
to be honest. They are also liablo to ac
quire mere legal minds; to he acute, given
to forma and technicalities, hair-breadth
distinctions and special pleadings; over
cautious maimers, dry, aciid dispositions,
and questioning nnd cross-questioning tem.
pers together with other traits not the
most amiable or attractive. Doctors are
in peril of losing sensibility of suffering
and pain, of being chilled in their sympa
thies, of parting with delicacy of feeling,
of deceiving the credulity of ignorance
and timidity, and of getting gain out of
human weaknesses.
Clergymen, shut out too much from the
real world and from rough-and-tumble in
tercourse with it, sometimes live in an ideal
world, and are morbid iu feeling and mis
taken in their theories as to what life is, if
notjis to what life ought to be. They
grow shy, stiff, formal, too much of a tribe
by themselves; and open to the joko that
the race is divided into three classes: men,
women and ministers. So on through all
the various occupations down to those in
vvk-isg WJ-lf Haerv tk-.i.- ■iJusWiiar Wbwv
In each nnd all these are temptations and
influences which are deforming and warp
ing; tending to put faculties anu feelings
out of balance and true relations. Mind
wo aro far irom saying that theso tempta
tions are often yielded to, or that these in
fluences are permitted to go unresisted and
do harm in all instances. We only assert
their existence ; and if any proof of this
is wanted beyond e,vory body’s observation,
it can ho found in literature—fictitious and
dramatic literature especially—wherein the
assignment to particular vocations of cer
tain special features of mind and manner
is universal and universally accepted as, at
least, caricaturing original portraits.
Little Girls. —There is something
about little girls especially lovable;
evon their willful, naughty ways seem
almost devoid of evil, when they aro
so soon followed by tbo sweot poni
tenco that overflows in such copious
showers. Your boys aro great, nohlo,
generous fellows, loving and full of
generous impulses, but they aro noisy
and demonstrative, and, dearly as you
love them, you aro glad tlioir place is
out of doors; but a girl with light
step is always beside you. Sho brings
the slippers to papa; and with her
pretty, dimpled littlo flngors unfolds
the paper for papa to read; she puts
on a tliimblo no bigger than a fairy’s,
and, with somo very mysterious com
bination of “doll-rags,” oxhibits a
wonderful assumption of womanly
dignity. And who shall tell tho lit
tlo thread of speech that flows with
such silvery lightness from Ihoso in
nocent lips, twines itself around tho
mother's heart, never to rust, not even
when the doar little face is hid among
the daisies, as so many mothers know '!
Cherish, then, tho littlo girls, dimpled
darlings, who tear their aprons, cut
tho table-cloths, and cat tho sugar,
and who aro themselves tho sugar and
salt of life I Let them dress and un
dress their doll-babies to their hearts’
content. Answer all tho funny ques
tions they ask, and, if you must whip
them, do it so that if you should re
member it, it would not be with tears,
for a groat many little girls lose their
hold beforo the door from which they
have just escaped is shut, and find
their way back to tho angels.
Anew way to collect old debts has
been found in Kentucky. The cred
itor has his debtor arrested for posses
sing counterfeit money, and when the
officers made a search and discovered
two thousand dollars in genuine
greenbacks, ho attached the lot, secu
ring his amount.
VOL. Ill —NO. 11.
BOOKS FOR THE BLIND.
In IVS 4 Valentin Hauy began those
philantnropic labors which gained for him,
from the French people, the appropriate
designation, “Apostle of tbe Blind.” Not
long afterwards he became convinced of
the necessity of devising some mode of
printing, by which touch might supply the
place of sight to the reader; and after re
volving several plans iu his mind, accident
(as it is called) finally suggested the best
method. Sending his pupil, Lesueur, to
his desk one day, for some article, the
young man found there a printed card of
invitation, which had received an unusu
ally strong impression ; passing his fingers
over the back of the paper, he distinguish
ed the letter O, and brought the paper to
Ilatiy to shew him that he could do so.
The philanthropist saw at a glance that the
principle of printing for the blind was
discovered, and that it was Dot only neces
sary to perfect the process. Thereupon
followed a series of experiments, conducted
by himself and others, resulting, at last,
in the alphabet for the blind most gener
ally used in Great Britain and America;
which is the Boston letter, invented and
perfected by Dr. S. G. Ilowe, the founder
of the Burkins institution for the blind.
The recommendations of this letter are ita
superior legibility aud the reduced cost of
printing, in consequence of which the
number of books printed in it is much
greater than iu any other. But the great
cost of printing hooks for the blind, in
consequence of their bulk and the small
editions required, lias rendered the supply
very scanty. Aside from the Seripturea
and the text books in use in the different
institutions, there were in 185 G, but forty
six miscellaneous books in English, printed
in relief, unless we include those printed
in arbitrary characters, which, aside from
the Scriptures, amounted to nine volume*
more. Many of these aro quite small,
some comprising only a few pages; yet
these fifty-five volumes, if sold* at actual
cost, would have amounted to about §7O,
before the war, probably twice as much
now.
w We have gleaned the Tacts staled abevS
from an interesting article on tbe Blind,
in Appleton’s Cyclopedia, to which those
who desire more extensive information are
referred. Tho thoughtful reader will see
at once how limited the provision is that
has been made for the literary wants of
the blind, and how unable they are to sup
ply the deficiency themselves. With few
exceptions, they are unable to purchase
costly hooks ; and books printod in raised
characters must be costly, compared with
those which are produced for ordinary rea
ders.
New Method or Graeting. —Dr.
Degol describes anew method of
grafting as practiced by Herr Froun
dlich, one of tho Russian Court gar
deners, with remarkable success. In
stead of taking the scions Irom the
provious year’s wood, with the bud
just beginning to swell, the still soft
growing lateral shoots are selected
when from half to one and a half inch
long, and either bark or tongue graf
ted, caro being takon not to draw the
ligature too tight, as they will swell
much more rapidly than hard wood
scions. Success, he says, is certain,
if care bo takon that tho sap of the
slock is in motion at the time the op
eration is performed. Ho recom
mends this mode as superior to all
others, especially for hard-wooded
troes, such as quercus, fagus, eto.,
which is usually difficult to propagate
from tbe old wood. Hew roses and
plants, which it is desirable to increase
as rapidly as possible, may also be
advantageously worked in the same
manner.
To Save Labor in Washing.
Soak your clothes over night in clear,
cold water ; in the morning have over
tho fire what water is necessary to
boil them in ; add one table-spoonful
of saleratus, ono pint of soft soap, or
one quarter of a bar of hard soap,
wring or drain your clothes from the
water in which tlioy have stood over
night, put them in your boiler, boil
three quarters of an hour, when they
will need but little rubbing, rinse, and
your clothes will be beautifully white
Your suds will be excellent for wash
ing colored clothes of all kinds, as it
does not Injure the nicest prints. One
pound of saleratus will do twenty
washings for any common family
The New York Press Club enter
tained the Sorosis, or Woman’s Club,
at “breakfast,at three o’clock on
Saturday afternoon, at Delmonico’s.
The confusion of hours superinduced
by matinees seems to have extended
its demoralizing influences to public
meal times. What o'clock the ladies
and gentlemen of tho Sorosis and
Press dined subsequently to their tar
dy breakfast, and when they supped,
fe loft wholly to conjocture.