About The Bainbridge argus. (Bainbridge, Ga.) 1856-1871 | View Entire Issue (June 5, 1869)
DEVOTED TO RELIGION, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, AGRICULTURE AND INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. VJLIIME IX BAINBRIDGE, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, JUNE 5, 18G9. NUMBER 35. 11 )H pob'.ished Every Saturday Morning. terms' Mmith . M .ntli* .^1 Vayaents Invariably in Advance. Advertising Rntes. ■ the rates to which -e d- Th.fullcwm ' fora ,i ver ,i»idg,or where »•'" , arc handed in without instruc- Advcrt’uemeots will be charg- , they occupy- 6 M n.lvcrtisc nents: averting 1M. 2M l *4 3 M. n i i i S.|iiarc, ‘i Square*, 3 S-t'iarc! 1 , , Square?. S.t«ar' s i f,i Squares, ” t Squares, S <.t»arc., <> Square*, 10 Square* T„ Ordinarira, 4dml..l,>«>*">• A > h " S^Jiuarie- tc to ax ran. is ,,„r!i ^•ticc« ;;;;;;;;;; * aqr.'oV ten lined.... 12 15 20 ir» i 20 26 20 21; 25 ! 31 38 1 ! 2S l 37 1 1 46 | , 32 43 ; 3f» 1 49 ' f>0 1 1 4« 1 55 I l\\ 1 41 1 62 \ 74 1 $ 14 20 26 33 40 48 56 64 72 80 89 12 M. >20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 00 ' 110 1 120 THE DAUGDTEtt-IN-LIW. A CAPITAL STOBY. Sal.*’* °f !-»»>«• f hixtv Itov*’ Six >1 iliiU.'' , N°ti | Ton Dap*’ **"*''*" SlU-HU tV S\LK |250. I never, never willforgive him,” said old Mr. Remington, solemnly depositing his great gold spectacles in their green leather case. “Nor I, either,’ sobbed Mrs. Reming ton, heedless of the unwonted disorder of her cap-strings. “To marry that bold, dashing city girl without so much os waiting for my permission.’ “But yon know, my dear,” suggested the old gentleman, “we shouldn’t have given it to him if he had waited half a century.’ “Certainly we should not,’ said Mrs. Remington emphatically. “To think of our only child treating us so cavalierly. Abel tlie only one we have got in the world.’ “Ho has made his bed and must lie on it,’ said the old man sternly. “I will never receive his gay-city bride here, and so I shall write to him imme diately. We are scarcely fine enough for a Fifth avenue daughter-in-law.’ As he spoke, the old man picked np a crumpled letter that he had thrown- on the floor in the first paroxysms of his anger, and smoothed out its folds with a mechanical touch. “Why, only think of it, Abel,’ said Mrs. Remington, “MahalaBuckley serv- iderv of yours, Abel, in sending for Lot Chauncey’s orphan to adopt. I’ll teach Charles and hisstnek-up wife that we’re in earnest about what we wrote, and Marian Channcey won’t have any city airs nor graces. I’m dreadfully anxious to see her. Lot was a lively looking fellow, and my consin twice removed, and folks did say his wife was a regular bnilt beauty. I guess likely she’ll come by the stage to-night.’ I guess likely there she is now,’ said prepared to descend in obedience to Mrs. Remington’s call of: “Marian, Marian, come down and see my son.‘ Charles Remington stood in the middle of the floor with one arm around liis radiant little mother, while the old gentleman, from his big, easy chair delightedly watched over the tableau, as Marian slowly advanced. “Charles/- said Mr. Remington, beam- Abel, who, sitting by the open window, ing overi < t kis is ogr.new daughter, caught the first glimpse of a slender j figure coming up the path, and carrying had spnlB g forward and J** come the new-comer. .ram, while the g»Md hat loud u. Marian Channcey was exceedingly pret-j peifect cascade of curls over his ty—Mrs. Remington -soon discovered shoulder, Obit u; 4 00 5 00 5 00 7 00 10 00 ,if Kiii-h pr. 2 fl £“ C fi for six weeks in this—this girl’s cou- ' sin’s family, and she says Evelyn Sayre could smoke a little paper cigar just like a man, and used to go skating with her dress tucked np to the top of her boots, and drove a baronch, with the groom sitting behind—and •Kor tln’Ho .<alen, for every \f irt.ras.iU'n, per nquan’, $•*» 00. Morti*. • I. —j f or tbo H a m c as other [For the Argus, the goi.dex h eddiso day. The German* have a ' cry pretty custom of rclrhralinf. the urenty-RHh anniversary of mat- n, ra »< the •‘Silver Wedding”; anniversary as the “Unltlon Wedding.’ 1V e || t Mary ; Tears have passed away 8iiKc first I ipucil upon your brow ; An I life was in its blooming May. hut then I loved you uot as now. I lionght I loved yon, whoa your eye Was bright as twilight's evening star ; I deemed it iti« to linger nigh. Or e'en to watch you from afar. Those eyes arc note to mo as bright; sparkling not with mirth they seem ; l-’.ir nr. tlicv glow with holy light ; I,t vc s own eternal, daialing beam. And whilo in age. as once in youth. We tread life’s journey side by sido I’U own the lmet sin-ke the truth •'Th- ml IS ucivci am - ; ISol.lWE. Valdosta, <Ja. that—a bright, little,' winsome creature, with gold-brown hair that would curl, in spite of the restraining net, loving, hazel eyes, and tremulous red lips. “Oh, Abel!’ quoth the soft hearted old lady, at the end of two days, ‘why didn’t Charley wait until be had seen Marian Cliauncey? Is she not sweet—: don’t it seem like a gleam of sunshine in the old honse when she is tripping around ?’ “She is very pretty,’ said Mr. Reming ton. “And then,’ pursued the old lady, ‘she’s so handy. She knows just whero everything is, and she does up my caps “Evelyn ! my wife !’ Mr. Remington stared at his wife— Mrs. Remington stared at her husband. “He’s mad,’ whispered the old man; ‘Charles/ he added aloud, ‘you are mis taken, this is Marian Chauncey, onr adopted daughter/ “No, sir, it is not/ faltered the young lady in question; ‘I atu Evelyon, your son‘s wife. I have stolen into your hearts on fa! se pretenses—but I did so long for your love. And when you sent for Marian, who is one of my dearest school friends, I persuaded her to remain nt home and aHoW 1he to exquisitely, and you should have seen , how skillfully she drove me to meeting personate her just fora few weeks, yesterday. j Father, mother, you will not turn me Oh, Abel, if Providence bad only out of your affection now P THE WAY IT HOES, do.flip One t» Gossip Two •• White ..flopping in the town, 01.1 Mr., l’rv t me remarked— ( .Smith 6on•jilt his good, of 15.own. S:,v« t; ,s,-ip Two to Gossip Three, iVh . rust her eyelids down, _ .■I-vc heart it said to-day my friend. Smith got his goods trum Brown. Says Gossip Tt.ree to Gossip Four, With smoothing of a frown. . •T'vc heart str ange news, what do you think. Smith t>’ik his goods from Brown. Says Goss p Four to Gossip Five, Who hlaied it 'round the town, .*I’ve heard, to day. such shocking news— Smith stole his goods from Brown.” A I.1TTLK oosey. The chili November day was done. The working world home faring ; The wind came roaring tbrougu Abe streets And sot th-s gas-tights flaring ; And hhpolessiy and aimlessly The seared old leaves were flying : Vfhen mingling with t re soughing wind 1 heard a small voice crying And shiver ng on the corner stood A child of four or rver ; No cloak or hat her small soft arms And wind-blown curls to cover. Her dimple face was stained with tears ; Her round blue eyes ran over ; She cherished in her wee, cold hand, A bunch of faded clover; And one hand round her treasure, whilo She slipped in mine the other ; Halt scared, half confident'at, said “Oh '. please. X want my mother." “Tell ntc your street and nnmhcr, pet: D n’t cry. I’ll take you to it.” 6obhing she answered. “I forget; The organ made me do it.” “He came and played at Miller's steps: The monkey took the money, And so I followed down the street, That monkey was an funny. I’ve walked about n hundred hours From one street to another; The monkey’s gone. I’ve spoiled my flowers— Oh, please, I want my mother.” “But what’s yonr mother's name, and what The street ?—now think a minute.” ”M» mother's name is mamma dear— The street—I can't begin it ” “But what is strange about the house, * Or new. not like tho others ?” “I guess yog mean my trundle-bed, Mine and my little brother’s. “Oh dear ! I ought to be at home To help him say bis prayers, He’s suoh a baby he forgets. And we are both such players— And there's a bar between to keep From pitching on each other, Fo- Harry rolls when h >’s asleep ; Ob dear ! I want my mother.'* The sky grew stormy, people passed AH muffled, homeward faring; “You’H hare to spend the night with me,” I said at la«t despairing. I tied my kerchief round hue neck— “What ribbon’s this, my blossom ?” “Whv ! don't yon know ehe smiling asked And drew it from her bosom. A eart, with number, street and name; My eyes as'or.ished met it; “For.” said the little one, “you sco t might sometimes forget it; And so I wear a litt'e thing That tells you all about it; For mother says she’s eery sum I would get lost w : tbout iL” Bless my soul!’ interrupted the old nd the fiftieth gent i cmanj his breath nearly taken away by the catalogue of enormities. “Bless my soul, yon don’t say so. And Charles is married to sncli an Amazon as this. So the couple sat in the roomy porch of the capacious old farm house, with the Michigan roses tossing little billet- doux into their laps in scented showers, and the delicious odors of the fresh mown hay coming np from the meadow flats by the river, as miserable an old couple as you want to see. Menu while Mrs. Charles Remington, Niagara. She sat on a log, among the delicious shades and seclusions, of Goat Island, that bright June day, with the 1 lights and shadows chasing each other across her lovely face, and turning her long cbesunt cnrls to coils of gold. Dressed all iu white, she was fastening a wreath of wild flowers into a ribbon of her coquettish little hat, and singing some old badad softly to herself. Evelyn Remington was very handsome —neither blonde nor brunette, she con trived to unite the charms of both in her rose-leaf complexion; bright hair, and misty brown eyes, and the smile that dimpled her fresh scarlet lips, were messengers straight from the heart. Presently she was joined by her hus band, a tall, handsome young fellow, in a white linen suit and graceful hat. “Two letters, Evelyn,’ he said lightly, and bad news in both.’ “Bud news? Oh Charley!’ and the roses faded suddenly away from the bride’s cheek. “Well, not so very bad, and yet not pleasant; Read, carissima mia /’ He tossed into her lap a stiffly written letter, on one page of blue paper, signed ‘Abel and Mary Remington,’, a keen ex pression of their disapproval of the mar riage he had contracted, and an asser tion of their determination never to receive his wife as a daughter. Evelyn looked into her husband’s face with her bright eyes. “Oh, Charley, lam sorry.’ He langhed, and quoted to her the Scripture phrase: ‘A man shall leave his father and mother and cleave unto his wife.’ And now don’t you want to see the other letter, Evelyn ?’ It was a summons from the mercan tile firm with which Charles Remington was connected, an earnest entreaty that he would visit Central d^j^ica, in their interest, immediately. “Cool, isn’t it, to request a bride groom to walk off in that sort of way for it is too rough a voyage to ask yon to share it, dearest. I leave it for you to decide—shall I go or stay “Go by all means. Should I ask yon to linger by my side, when duty calls you away, a poor wife I should be. He kissed her flashed cheek with ad miring tenderness. “And where shall I leave yon, my bonnie bride V “Oh, I will make a brief visit home in the mean time. It cuts onr wedding tour short, but then yon know we have a life time to finish onr honeymoon in So the WVief Niagara sojonra caipe to an end, and Mrs. Remington for the season was a widowed bridge. “He will be back soon,’ she said to and in the meantime, oh, I seen fit to send us a daughter-in-law like dear little Marian Channcey. ’ Mrs. Remington’s speech was cut prematurely short by the entrance of the object of it, with her apron full of eggs, and her hands full of wild flowers. “And you knew nothing of this !‘ de manded old Mr. Remington, of his son “Not a worrit is Evelyn's own idea.* “And Evelyn, half laughing, half iLiiiiK iuu vi wiiu uuncio. . , . , . » . ^ • . , . , y crvinor, stole into ber mother-in-law*® “Mrs. Remington,’ she began, and ( “‘•’"’o’ D then checking herself with abruptness— extended arms. ‘Oh, I cannot call yon by that long, for- “It don‘t seem possible that she is mal name—may I call you mother?’ the Fifth avenue girl !‘ said tlie old “Of course yon may, my darling,’ gentleman; ‘come here and givs me a said the enthusiastic old lady. I only kiss, Mi—Evelyn, I mean.* wish yon were my real daughter.* “No, she is onr real daughter after Marian had laid down her flowers, all!“ said proud Mrs Remington. Evc- and deposited her store of peaily white ]yn had conquered their prejudices with t2<r* in a basket on the table, aud then the enchanted wand of love, to Mrs. Remington, kneeling j own household—and how can it give it undue importance to ask for it daily ? More than this the objection assumes too much. If it is improper to pray for oar bread day by day, it is certainly im proper to ask a blessing upon it three times a day at our meals. This would be giving it more importance than simply praying for it twice a day. To say that the duty of praying for tempo ral food is tanglit elsewhere in the New Testament, does not relieve the difficul ty, nor strengthen the objection—indeed it really neutralizes the objection. If every creature is good—and is to be sanctified by the word of God and prayer —there surely can be no harm in pray ing for daily bread for the body—of conrse we do not mean for superfluous luxuries. One more objection, and we'are done. He affirms that the ordinary interpreta tion “conflicts with the widest scopes and designs of this petition.” But we cannot see how snch is the case. If the Lord’s Prayer is thejeonstitution of all prayer, it certainly includes temporal as well os spiritual blessings in its range; and there is no other portion thereof that can be applied to this end- And if its gran lest scope is to benefit man in the largest nDd highest sense, it must include bread for the body. A religion that is so spiritual as to ignore the body, is a superstition—and not of Christ. To limit the petition to spiritual bread alone, is to curtail rather than conflict with its grandest scope. The Brother says much that is good, but it is in the wrong berth—and is likely to do much harm, if acted upon. And we would simply exhort him to come back and en quire for the old paths—not because great men have walked therein, or the majority of Christians believed therein; but because truth and safety lie therein, and all is dark, doubtful and dangerous beyond. If he wishes to set us right, the way is open—we will think it no hardship if he use the cudgel with vim. Bat we think he will give in at once. In kindness to all, Old Foot. The FomHrFfmion,»c. the old lady’s check apron. j Argus .—Your worthy corres “Mother,’ she murmured, sol’tly, ‘you p 0ndol ,t i ias presented some very objec do not know how sweet the word t j ona bl e remarks, in hia exposition of nd«. And will you always love me t h e fourth petition of the Lord’s prayer, common and cherish me, and let me be a real And as he has made his opinions public ,, ! property, he caunot consider anything dangier o hard-heirted old said against them, as of a personal char- l should be a hard hearten o acter .° If he will alIoW himself to look cormorant if I duln t, pci , salt 1 ftt the quest ion from another standpoint, lady, her spectacles dimmed with tears. ^ ^ donbt , ess see his err ors; and we In short, Marian Channcey became ftre per8ua ded that no one will be readier the light of the farm bouse; the bright than he to correct an error when made little guardian genius of its ceiled rooms to gee it j n a proper spirit. If his teach- and wide, airy halls. She read the ; ng8 were not calculated to do evil, they naner to farmer Remington; she com- should pass by unmolested—but as t ley P L?cake iellv and syllabubs to ; contain dangerous doctrines, they need pounded cake, jelly, ana *>y , ^ . q ^ lighh of rea son the astonishment and delight of the oiu , lady—she kept the two old china vases that «. tll e generally re- that this petition has [Correspondence of the Bainbritlgo Argus.] LETTER FROM/TALBOT. Editors Abgus:—The misfortunes vat ions the same ahdflie'geneTaTTl? 1 ' Conscience dies not with the body, bnt accompanies the sonl in its upward herself , flight, to add new zest to tho pleasures most do so much. , of Heaven, or in its downward plunge \ “Yes’ **& to give intensity to the pains of koll. placently, ‘I think that was a sp en on the mantle brimm-ng with a rain cf roses; she knew by instinct just when to darken the rsom for tho old man’s afternoon nap on the wide chintz sofa and she was better than ten doctors, when Mrs. Remington had one of the bad, nervous head-aches. “I really don’t see how we ever con tinued to* live without Marian,’ said the old gentleman. “But she shall never leave us,’ said Remington, decidedly. “Marian; little bright eyis, I’ve got news/ called the old gentleman one morning, through the hall; ‘leave those honeysuckles for some one else to lie up, and come in here. Charles is com ing home.’ “To stay, sir ?’ “No, not to stay—of conrse his fine city wife is his permanent devotion. Mr. Remington could not help speaking with a sneer, ‘hot he will spend the-day here, on his way to New ’i ork. I should like you to see Charles—and I should like him to see you. Don’t blush—if yon are not better looking cease than his Fifth avenue wife, she mnst be a paragon among the women, thats all I’ve get to say.’ “When will he be here, sir ?’ “In about en hour, I should judge from his letter—Charley always did write an awful scrawl—m’s and n’s just half alike, and half the time forgets to cross his t’s; but I suppose that’s the fashion now-a-days.’ Marian Chauncey crept away to her room to brush oat the red-gold curia, and adjust the b»ae ribhon aa she thonght, and wondering shyly to herself wbat ‘Charlie’ would say, when he saw the new element that had contrived so to interweave itself into the old borne ceived opinion is, . a two-fold meaning—daily supp les o food for the body, and daily supplies of grace for the soul. To the first I mnst object.” One objection is, That food for the body is not of daily growth and that he is “compelled to object to that interpretation which makes one pray for what he will get anyhow, and in just as rich profusion as if he were not to ask for it” But this objection seems to ns to be very fallacious. In the first place, only a small portion of the human family receives bread by ag ricultural labor in large annual install ments; andwhere this is the case, the daily providence of God is necessary to preserve such supplies from the ravages of fire, insects and rogues—and also to adapt snch food to the daily strength and health of the body. Hence, such food becomes the daily gift of Providence- and therefore the proper subject of daily prayer. In the second place, Infidels and Christians are in the daily receipt of the general benefits of the atonement-and Jrill continue to receive them whether they pray for them or not-and most we suits affected us alike. We have a deep interest in each other, then, a fate and destiny, which should bind us closer than ever. We aro desirous of hearing from each section of our State, what are the prospects—what arc the hopes upon which the prosperity of the country must be founded ? These are grove questions, and yet every year we are told, the failure of a single cotton crop would overwhelm us in rum. There never was a country, that pros pered depending upon a single ar ticle of production, to supply its wants. We cannot rely on cotton to purchase everything else we < Our Church in Washington. We have already called the atten tion to the efforts of onr brethren in Washington to erect % suitable church in the Federal City. They are deter mined to have one, convenient, com modious, elegant, a credit to the Con nection. They are deeply earnest— and we are disposed to help those who are doing all they can to help themselves. We do hope that their agent will find favor with the people wherever he goes. We call the atten tion to the following communication, which fairly sets forth their wants and claims : To the Ministers and Members or nil M. E. Church South ': The prospects and necessities of our common cause in Washington City, D. C., induce as to invite your special attention to the statements and request which we shall make in this paper. Before the war a lot had been pur chased in an eligible locality for the erection of a Metropolitan Church of our name in that city. The splendid building of the Young Men’s Chris tian Association now strnds upon that lot, and our former house of wor ship on Eighth street, is a synagogue of the Jews. Both these pieces of propety have been inevitably sacrific ed, and are lost to us. Our Society, decimated by the for tunes of the war, was reduced to less than fifty members. It now numbers over 250 members, nearly a hundred per cent more than it numbered at any former most flourishing period. Our pe. pie there did not inquire, before undertaking the enterprise to which we are about to allude whether the Church throughout the Connec tion would aid them in their under taking ; but absolutely certain that they should need ouch assistance, they counted upon it with equal cer tainty, and are now in the most try ing crisis in the erection of any church-edifice, i. e., within four or six weeks of its completion. They will finish it by manage ment, but in expectation of contribu. tions from all the Churches, without which they will be embarrassed be yond hope in the payments yet to be made. , dimensions and cost'"; 'its s'te being The C&ptian stammered oat that it was—“Yea.” “Well, air, yoa have a watch and * chain on yoar person that belongs to me.*- Yon took it from me daring the war by force, threats and violence. Now I want it back again.” . With these bold remarks she ac companied the same with a dexterous movement of her hands, and the gold watch and chain, valued at two hun dred dollars, was removed from the bosom of the Captsln, and transferr ed to the rightful female owner. The vanquished Captain bowed re tired from the table and.left the ho tel and the city of ChjurlottavUle. ike most eligible one in all that sec lion of the city in which it stands, and that also being the most improv ing section of Washington City. It stands, representative of an evangelical Methodism, and an object of the deepest solicitude to the few earnest hearts who have undertaken its erection, with trnst in God, and in reliance, through him, upon the sym pathy and assistance of their broth ren everywhere. Alone, they were unequal to the task. They partake, in common with the other citizens of Washington, of those disadvantages which always be long to a commercial city. But they have stood nobly in their lot for the interests of Southern Methodism in their community ; they have stood A Half Married Infliriflnai. A peculiar incident occurred a short time since in the vincinity of Hackney, England, worth recording, from the fact of its being'ona of'the rarest escapades in matrimonial his tory. An aged gentleman, not of very prepossessing appearance, but never theless a perfect Croesus, was leading his bride a girl of sweet sixteen, to the hymeneal altar, under the circum-* stances of having purchased her hand (but not her heart) by assisting her father when in peenniary difficulties. Six handsomely dressed bridesmaids and a host of friends attended the conple to the ehnrch. The bride was decked out in nuptial splendor, the roadway was lined with carriages and grays, the whole presenting an im posing effect; the venerable gentle man led his bride up the aisle and the ceremony of coupling then began. All went quietly enough until the? clergyman came to the sentence, “Will you take this man for your wedded husband ?” when she, in a load and solemn manner, exclaimed, “I won't.** She rose in an excited manner and started oat of the chtirch, jumped in to a carriage awaiting her outside, in which was seated the idol of her choice and off they went to a chnch not a thousand miles away, were married borhood, and the interest has not yet abated. of hw boybuod. “But I don’t think he will be angry, svd Marian in a half whisper as she pinned a white rose in her breast, and We have got to fall back on the old plan. I am glad to see that Decatur is diversifying her productions. We will be prosperous when we raise all we require at home, and can export cotton, rice, tobacco and sugar cane as nett profits. Out of these profits, let it be the pride of every farmer in our State, to save one, two or three thousand dollars to start a new fac lory _to build a railroad and to in crease production of his farm or plan tation. These should be reduced in size and increased in productive ca pacity. This is the true policy—this will make the South wealthy and pow erful again. Her.inflnence will, once more, be felt in our national councils for wealth, makes power and poverty makes subjects. I am glad to see Geor gia is taking the lead. I feel a deep sense of pride and pleasure when I re view her boundless resources, yet un developed. She is bound to outstrip all the other Southern States in agri culture and manufacture. The scar city of labor will insure us high prices for cotton, rice and tobacco. \ e will have a monopoly in the cultivation and production of these great staples. Let ns take courage for the future there is still a brighter morning to up against reproach and persecution ,u that center of political prejudices, such as, in its peculiar stress, perhaps our people nowhere else have been to nrav for these things because * «*•»-* who objects to praying for daily bread objects to praying for hence his opinion is a mere worthless fallacy. But the Brothers position !^e are not to pray for that we will receive anyhow, concedes half that the recel , i nppAg but one step dawn upon us. /“I prayer is nsetera i.ordaboal Mbol-TUbo*co«l- because God knows what we need before ly £3 one e f the best m our • a e. we ask him, to complete the round. The For health and a variety of prodne- Brother’s exposition is based in that tfae climft te cannot be excelled philosophy which assumes that God has ^ wheat ia headed out and doing nothing to do with affairs of the physical good ; bnt most too early world. for oats—they look well however. Another objection made by him to the , Vg have B splendid stand of cotton rrp-TiMrmllv received opinion i»—“That it an d corn nearly knee high, "shave ™due importance to bread.” Bnt .^excellent mineral springs known f ln thrsW’ God made the body M the Chalybeate, just over the moun- who will not provide such things for called upon to suffer; they have de termined to give our Church a po sition there that will command re- nnect They deserve to be sustained. They must have at least $30,000 from ^Wtftherefore recommend and re quest that, on the first Sunday in Juiv next, a special collection in aid of the Washington Church be taken up throughout the entire Connec tion, and the proceeds thereof be forwarded, by draft or P. O. order, to Rev. W. V. Tudor, Washington, D C who will acknowledge receipt of the same in the Baltimore Episco pal Methodist, and in any other pa per that the parties sending may indicate. Jambs O. Andrew, H. n. Kavanaugh, R. Paine, W. M. Wightman, G. F. Pierce, D. S- Poggett, H N. McTyeibe. Bishops' Meeting, St. Louis, May 10^ 69. Califonia’s Big Trees.—The majes tic body of the Father of the Forest/ which lies half buried in the, earth is 110 feet in circumference at the base, and 200 feet in length to the first branch, and being hollow, a person can walk that length erect. The Esti mated height of this tree when stand ing is 400 ft The “Burned Tree,” prostrate also, is hollow to the height of 60 feet, and persons can ride on horseback theongh it; for that ais-' tance it is 97 feet in circumference/ and stood 330 feet high. There are several other trees of immense size, and variously named—Hercules, Bn’* cle Tom’s Cabin, Pioneer Cabin, Three Sisters, Siamese Twins, Twin Brothers, Lone Widow, Widow and Son, Beauty of the Forest, Pride bf the Forest, etc.—From Phrenological Journal. ‘Occasional.’ Served Hem Right.—A few days ago a Capt. Harrison, the agent of the Freedmen’s Bureau at Scotts- ville, Virginia, called to Charlotts— ville by business, was dining at one of the hotels in that town. A young lady,‘one of the heroines of the war, whose name we omit, having scruti nized the Captain for a moment, arose from her seat deliberately, and approached him with the firm tread of a woman who was not afraid who knew her honest “rights and dared maintain them.” Said the lady, with a stamp of her beautiful foot, which subdued the Yankee Captain at once : “Is this Capt. Harrison, of the Yan kee artnv?” Scoffing. To a young infidel who scoffed at Christianity on account of the misconduct of some of the professors. Dr. Mason said: “Did you ever know an uproar made because an w « nt astray from the paths of morality ? The infidel admitted that he had not.— “Then,” said the doctor, admit Christianity ia a holy religion, by ex pecting its professors to be holy; and thus, by your very scoffing, yon pay it the highest compliment in yoqr power. S’eat! Two old Tom Cats—' One iu rr*j, and «o wa» t’other—* Forgetting rat*. Began to squall at one another— Mc-auow! Me-aouw! With IiUlc spine arehed, and raised Uf,- Extended maw, malignant far— With quivering tails, receding ears, Exciting one another’s fears— Arc nod and ’round They paced the ground,- And each cat’s ire Blised higher, Until at length, with dreadful welts,- They sprang at each other’* pelts, And fought and fit. And gouged and bit. And struggled in the mod, Until the ground, . For rods aronnd. Was covered with their Wood ■ Me-anow! Me-auow i Another eat soon after P And at the sight apraag back For naught was left bnt tufts erhasr. And their two taiia lay qntrenng there • Home!—Is there a word that we sot cling to, a memory so dear to n»? to no the heaven we are looking for a home where love reigns, blessed with the full ness of joy and peace ? jf3ffa«ftss*tas Tiinimcn*.
