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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.