Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

ftY Gr- A- MILLER, Terms $2 00 A Year, in Advance, Tin: UPSON PILOT, Thomaeton, Q eorgia. Gr. a. MILLER^ - Editor and Proprietor. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. Terms of Subscription, In advance, for 1 year, S2OO ]f payment be delayed 6 months, - - - 250 if delayed until the end of the year - - 300 Club Rates. Single cony, $2 00 Five copies, - 8 00 Ten copies, 15 00 Clubs exceeding ten, in the same proportion $1,50 each. Payment always iu advance. o (OJice over A. Worrili g Co.'s Grocery Store.) Rates of Advertising. Advertisements will be charged at ’lie rate of one dollar per square <d ten lines or less, and lilty cents ior each sub-*que..t insertion. Prof- >i ■ Curds, not exceeding ten lines, will be inserted 12 months for sl2. L'.hera! ontruc’s mad** with Merchants and others wisliin? t> iidvoi tise by the year. Ko Au.ioiUiceinent ol Candidates $5, invariably in advance. M.i , i*a ■ and D -aths inserted free, when necompa- n j*t by a responsible watKe. Obituaries of over 10 lies charge*! as Advert!se*enl|.s. We commend the following Ratos of Advertising by ontract to business men generally. We have placed h-m at the lowest ligu/es, and they will in no insiunce ha departed from’ BY ('(>'. RA ■ ’ !'. :ass <"• in ... j in".. | 1 year. s S K S’ n A RR. | Without ehinge. IS<; OM j <>o ; gio Od j sl2 00 ’.lAig-l pttirte.ly ; <OO 10 00 12 or j Hi 00 tiaig-d at will. ‘ | *OO 12 00 It 00 I 18 OO rwu ust’Aiißß. j 1 Without change. | 10 00 15 00 20 O 0 | 25 00 ■” ia ig>* l inarterly | 12 <to I.* t.) 2! H) 2* < 'o Changed at will, i 15 00 ! 20 00 25 00 30 U<’ mans *qn \ ur.s. ] Vi;i’i 1 >Ht liMllg**. ! 1-5 OO j 20 00 25 0!I 20 0(1 CAng -d quarterly j IS 00 j 22 00 20 05 34 00 .n i p-l at ri ’!. | 2> 0i : 20 00 32 00 40 00 Bit-rCOLCMX, Without change, j 25 OO j 30 ( g, 40 00 50 00 jiiiricr’.y | 2S 00 i 32 qr 45 00 f5 CO Changed at will, 35 00 | 45 p) 50 00 00 00 o>i v_ . .I.” MX, Withou’ H. .g. I 00 00 I 70 no 00 100 00 Chvv<;-'i -.wterlv I 05 00 j 75 on 00 op 110 0O C'.r-nge\ < il, I TO 00 I 85 p<; 100 no 125 OO Legal Advert''trp-. *iih i/ r .a ds a-id N“groes, by administrators. Ex <* ators al l G i.rdians, :ue re.pi .l by law t i><* held .r. iiie tirst . u- lay in the monm b -tween the hours oft” i in the f tr'inoii and three iti the afternoon, at the Court I! ‘it-** in the county in which the property is sit es te;t. N iti of tie'-:.* .ales mu.it be given in a put i a-.ttc lofty days pivv.ii.us to the day of sale. Viti a f.i.- tii<* of personal property must be .-s i at ! i 'a*t b'u dvys previous to the day of sate. Suii ■ ■ i D ‘btorv and Creditors of an Estate must 6-pubuslis 1 forty days. \ iti -e tout implication will be made to tlie Court of drliii \ f 'ir ’ *vvs to sell Land or must be publish#* 1 weekly for two months'. ms for [. ‘tie sos Ad ni ii. trution must be pub iih*d thirty days—for Dismission from Adinitiistrati n ninthly 11 x months —lor Dismission from Guardian jh; i, ’, tv lavs. Rii i for Foreelos’V-e of M >rtgig n mil 1 t he published tas.iuii/ for four nm.itits —for establishing lost paper: firth* t’l stiaee of thre months—for compelling ti t's fr > n Ex *eutors or Administrators, where a Loin! ho h>*m given b\ the deceased, the full sjraee of three BO Itlis. I'nh'icsti ms w"V ftrir” U* ceiitinu n d aeeordinc to tii--** tii • . >t .! [-. pu.euieats, unless otherwise ordeiwl, it th# following R a-vb: Ciotrjon on Ltt<rs of A Iminist-atfon, ?2 50 Di r - uissorv from A Iniioisirat’on, 0 ‘'o “ “ “ Guardianship, 850 I,*v to soil Land or Negroes, 5 00 i ’ %o:ir1 property. TO days. 1 sq. 1 ;, 0 S ! a ( >f land or negroes by Executors, 8■ 0 Kilrnv.v two weeks, 1 c 0 Stirrups Seles, 50 days, 5 ( 0 “ 30 “ 2 50 ?f r ‘ Mon *v sent by -nail is nt the Editor. provid*d ifth” remittance nriscarry, a receipt be e.x ----i •• i from the Post Master. Professional € avis. P. XV. Alexander, A TT <> Jt X E Y A T L A W, Thomaston, Geoi-gia. nor 25. 1K59 lv G. A. MILLEK, ATTOII NE V A T LA W , Thomaston, Georgia. i- Warupk. C. T. Goopk Warn*is A Goodc^ -1 TTo ]{ y /•; VS A T LA Ti’ Perry, Eoustoix Cos., Ga. nor 18, 4esß—tf THOMAS BEALL, ATTOII NE Y A T LA W , Thomaston, Georgia. febll 18G0—ly E. A. A J. W. Sjfiuy, AT T 0 KN E Y S Ax T L A \Y , THOMASTON, GIOLCIA. Aug. 27, 1859. n4l tt. William C* Ifoi’^lry, attorney at law, Thomaston, Georgia. \\ p"aetice in Upson, Talbot, Taylor, Crawford. ’ Monroe. Pike and Merriwether Counties. April 7. 1859—1 y. £ ’ E KKNXOS. R. H. r.ri.LOCU. K K\XOX & BULLOCH, attorneys at law, Hamilton, Georgia. • H : -L practice in all the counties of the Cliatta (■< hee Circuit, Troup and Merriwetlier, and in T_ ; : ng counties in Alabama. Prompt attention given to collections. •' ,l business entrusted to their care will receive attention. P lie ot the firm will he found at the office at all tn. m °. n f l ie East side of the public square in C)U’ TT!Vr ’' S ° F THE C° rRTS I!f Harris. —Superior Cin *• 0 2,1 Monday in April and October. Inferior Cn u Monday in January and July. Ordinary’s * st Monday in each month. . Member 29, 1800— ly. -A. C. Moore, Dentist, a Fp thomaston, ga. UZ l °T Ver DR - THOMPSONS’ store cls s J r ar n prepared to attend to all^fe^KfciSk isn y R f I,PIiW Iterations. My work LITERARY MISCELLANY. Romeo and Juliet—Bonreicanlted. BY JOE BACK.STOCK. It was in ancient Italy, a deadly hatred grew. Between old Caleb Capulet and Moses Mon tague. Now, Moses had an only son, a little dapper beau, The pet ol all the pretty girls; by name young Romeo. And Caleb owned a female girl, just home from boarding school, Miss Juliet was her Christian name—for short they call her dule. To bring the lady out, he gave a ball at his plantation, And thither went young Romeo without an in vitation. One Tybalt (kinsman to the host) began to growl and pout And watch an opportunity to put the fellow out. Rut Caleb saw the game, and said, “Now cousin, don’t he cross ; Behave yourself or leave the room ; are you or I the boss ?” \\ hen Juliet saw Romeo, his beauty did enchant her ; And Romeo he fell in love with Juliet instau ter. Now, less their dads should spoil the fun, but little time they tarried; Away to Squire Lawrence sped, and secretly were married. Oh, cruel fate ! that day the groom met Tybalt in the square; And Tybalt, being very drunk, at Romeo did swear. Then Romeo his weapon drew (a knife of seven blades,) And made a gap in Tibby’s ribs that sent him to the shades. The watchmen came; he took to flight, down alley, street, and square; jhe Charlies ran, o’ertook their man, and took him fore the Mayor. j hen spoke the worthy magistrate, (and savagely did frown,) ■*Y; nng man, you have to lose your head, or else vamose the town.” lie chose the last, and left his bride in solitude to pine ; “Ah me 1” said she, “our honeymoon is nothing but moonshine.” And then,to make the matter worse, her father did embarrass, By saying she must give her hand to noble Count de Paris. “T his suitor is a goodly youth; to-day he comes to woo ; if you ref use the geutleman I ‘ll soundly wollop you. Lite went to Squire Lawrence’s cell, to know what m list be done ; ’i he squire bade her go to bed, and take some laudanum. “’Twill make you sleep, and seem as dead; thus canst thou dodge this blow ; A humbugged man your pa’ will be—a blest one, Romeo.” she drank, she sle J t, grew wan and cold; they hurried her next day ; That she’d piped out her lord got wtrd, far ufl in Mantua. v uoth lie, “Os life I’ve had enough ; I’ll hire Lluftskiu s mule ; Lay in a pint of Hal face rum, and lie to-night with Jule.” Then rode he to the sepulchre, Tnong dead folks, bats, and creepers, And swallowed down the burning dose, when Juliet ope and her peepers I “Are you alive ? Or is’t your ghost? Speak quick, before 1 go.” “Alive I” she cried, “and kicking, too; art thou my Romeo ?” “It is your Romeo, my faded little blossom ; Oh, Juliet! is it possible that you were acting possum V “I was, indeed ; flow let’s go home ; pa’s spite will have abated; What ails you, love; you stagger so? Are you intoxicated ?” “No, no, my duck, I took some stuff that caused a little fit;” He struggled hard to tell her all, but couldn’t — so he quit, In shorter time than takes a lamb to wag his tail or jump, Poor Romeo was stiff and pale as any white washed pump. Then Juliet seized that awful knife, and in her bossom stuck it; Let out a most terrific yell, fell down and “kicked the bucket.” Friends and Acquaintances. —lt is not necessary to please everybody iti this world. Many friends or acquaintances are very often injurious to mind and morals, and also to our interests that are generally esteemed of more importance. \\ e are not intended by our Creator Jo associate with every human being ; we are not even qual ified to associate with many. We ought, when in our power, to select the most suit able and study to render ourselves agreea ble to them, leaving the rest of the world to like us or dislike us as they may. V e should nil have a standard to aim at, and we should aim at it vigorously and perse veringly, not changing it for another and another, like tickle, weak-minded people, for, in so doing, we only render ourselves ridiculous. Moreover, let us ever keep iu view that there are many minds which are dirty by nature, and have a craving tor dirty ideas. This is especially the case with youth, which is more obscene than mature age. The less we encourage this nature the better ; purity of mind, like purity of body, is conducive to health— health both to body and soul. I>auiages for bad Dentistry. At Newark, N. J., a Mr. Dobbs has re covered S2OO of a dentist named Kusstll. for improper dentistry. The Judge stated as a principle of common law and com mon reason, that any person claiming to practice any particular trade or profes sion, is responsible for failure to exercise sufficient skill in the prosecution of bis bu siness. “THE UNION OF THE STATES: —DISTINCT, LIKE THE BILLOWS; ONE, LIKE THE SEA,” THOMASTON. (il-ORRIA. SATIO.NY MOKMKti, Midi 16 HI. THE ARKANSAS TRAVELER, A lost and bewildered Arkansas Traveler approaching the cabin of a squatter, about’ forty years ago, discovered the proprietor seated on an old whisky barrel near the door, partly sheltered by the eaves, ’ lay ing a fiddle, when the following dialogue ensued—the squatter still continuing to play the same part over and over. Traveler—Hello, stranger ! Squatter—hello yourself. T—Can I get to stay all night with you ? —You kin git to go to h—ll. T —Have you any spirits here? S —Lot of ’em. Sal saw one last night by that thar old holler gum and it nearly skeered her to death. T—You mistake my meaning, have you any liquor ? S —Had some yesterday, but Old Bose he got in and lapped all uv it out’n the pot. T —You don’t understand, I don’t mean pot liquor. I’m wet and cold, and want some whisky. Have you got any ? S —Oh, yes—l drank the last, this mor ning. T—l’m hungry, Inn n't had a thing this morning ; can’t you give me something to eat. t- —Hain’t ad and thing in the bouse. Not a mouthful of meat or a dust of meal here. T—Well, can’t you give my horse some thing ? S —Got nothiu’ to feed him on. T—How far is it to the next h -use ? S —Sirauger, I don’t know, I’ve never been t liar. T—Well, do you know who lives here ? S—i do. T—As I’m so bold then, what might your name he ? S —it might be Dick, and it might be Sam ; but lacks a d—d sight of it. T—Sir ! will you tell me where this road goes to ? S —lts never been any whar since I’ve ilved here ; its always thar when i get up in the morning ! T—Well, how far is it to where it forks? S —lt don’t lurk at all; but is split up like the d—i. T—As I’m not likely to get to any oth er house to-night, can’t you let me sleep in yours, and i'll tie my horse to a tree, and do without anything to eat or drink ? S —My house leaks, thar’s only one dry spot in it, and Sal sleeps on it. And that ibar tree is the old woman’s persimmon ; you can’t tie to it, ’case she don’t want urn shuk off. She ’lows to make beer oui’n um. T—Why don’t you finish covering your house and stop the leaks? S —it’s been raining all day. T—Well, why don’i you do it in dry weather ? S —lt don’t leak then. T—As there seems to be nothing alive about your place, but children, how do you do here any lmvv ? S —Putty well, I thank you; how do you do yourseit ? T —l mean what do you do far a living here ? S—Keep tavern and sell whisky. T—Well, 1 told you I wanted some whisky. S—Stranger, 1 bought a bar’l mor’n a week ago oil see me and Sal went sliar:* Al ter we got it here ; we only had a bit, betweenst us, and Sal, she didn’t want to use her’n fust, nor me mine. You see, L had a spiggen in one tend, and she in totli er. So she takes a drink out’n ray end and pays me the bit for it ; then I'd take tin out’n her’ii and give her tlvo bit. Well, we’s iretting along fust rate, till D;ck, d—d skulking skunk, lie bourn a hole on the bottom to suck at, and the next time I went to buy a drink, they warnt none thar. T—l’m sorry your whisky’s all gone but, my friend, why don’t you play the balance of that tune ? S —lt’s got no balance to it. T—l mean you don’t play the whole.of it. S—Stranger, can you play the fiddle? T—Yes, a little sometimes. S —You don’t look like a liddlet but ii you think you can play any more onto t hat thar chune, you kin just git down and stay. (The Traveler gets down and plays the w hole of it.) S —Stranger, take a half a dozen cheers and set down. Sal, stir yourself round like a six-lioise team in a mud hole. Go round iu the holler, where 1 killed that buck t.nis momiiq cut off some of the best pieces, and iotch it and cook it for me and this gentleman, directly. Raise up the board under the head of the bed, and git the ole black jug 1 hid from Dick, and give us some whisky ; I know thar’s some left yit. Til, drive ole Bose out'n the bixuid-tiay, then clime up in the loft, and git the rag that’s got the sugar tied iu it. Dick, car ry the gentleman's boss round under the shed, give him some fodder and corn, much as he can eat. Til—Dad, they ain’t knives enouff to sot the table. !5 —Wbar’s big butch, little butch, ole case, cob handle, granny’s knife and the one I handled yesterday ? That’s euuff to set any gentlemanVtable, without you’ve lost um. D—m me, stranger, if you can't stay as long as you please, and I’ll giv’you plenty to eat and drink. \\ ill you have coffee for supper ? T—Yes, sir. y—l’ll be hanged if you do tho : we don’t have nothin’ that way here, but Giub Uy son, and I reckon it’s mighty good with sweetniu. Play away stranger, you can ( sleep on the dry spot to-nighs. T—(After about. Iwo hour’s * fiddling.) My friend, can’t you tell me about tlieaoad Pm to travel t >-rny>ri<nv ? S— To-morrow ! Stranger, you wou’t gifc out’n tls sediggins for six weeks. But when it gits so yon kin start, yon soo that big slofl over there ? Well, you have to git crost of that, then you take the road up the bank, and in about a mile you'll come to a two acre and a half corn patch, the corn’s initely in the weeds, But you rteedu f mind that jist ride on. About a mile and a half or tw miles from thar, you’ll come to the d—dest swamp you ever struck in all your travels, its boggy enough to mire a saddle blanket. That’s a first rate road ab< ut six feet under thar. T—How am I to get at that ? S —You can’t git at it miry time, till the wetlu r stith-ns down sum. W ell, a bout a mile beyont, you come Jo a place whar thur’s two roads. You kin take*!he right hand es you want to, you’ll fuller it a mil ■ or so and you’ll run but; you’ll then have to come back and try the left, when you git about two miles on that, you may know you are wrong, fur they ain’t any road thar. You'll then think you are mi ty lucky cf you kin find the way back to my house, whar you kin come and play on th it chune as long as you please. To Yoißiig JEesi Starting Into Life. The first great lesson a young man , should learn is, that lie knows nothing.— The earlier and more thoroughly this lesson is learned, the better. A home-bred youth, growing up in the light of parental admi ration, with everything to foster his vanity i and self*esteem, is surprised to find, and . often unwilling to acknowledge, tho siipe-> riority of other p oplo. But lie is compelled to learn his own in significance ; his airs aro redieuled, his blunders exposed, his wishes disregarded, uni he is made to cut a very sorry figure, until his self-conceit is abased, and he feels that he knows nothing. When a young man litis thoroughly com prehended the fact that he knows nothing, and that, intrinsically, he is of but little value ; the next lesson is, that the world cares nothing about him. He is the sub j ct of no man’s overwhelming admiration; neither petted by the one nor envied by the other, he has to take care of himself, lie will n >t be noticed until he becomes notice able ;h * will not bee-uie noticeable until lie dors something to prove that he is of some use to society. No recommendation ’ or introduction will give him this, or ought to give him this ; he must do something to l)-. 1 roc ignized as somebody. There is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly Spirit'dhan a vague desire for help—a wish to depend, to lean on some body, and enjoy the fruits of other people’s industry. There are multitudes of young men who indulge iu dreams of help from some quarter, coming in at a convenient moment, to enable them to secure the .suc cess in life which they covet. The vision haunts them of some old gentleman dying, with a pocket lull of money, a box full of scrip, a trunk fyll of mortgages, and a mind remarkably appreciative, who will, | perhaps, bequeath them from one thousand I to ten thousand dollars, with which they | can commence business, and go on swim ! mingly. Perhaps he will lake a different turn and send them to college, from which they will emerge knowing about as lb tig as wiien they entered. Futdi young, men shiYuld learn to do something, and prove themselves worthy of regard ItLiti'itaoafal. I have lived solitary long enough ; Ivvaut som ‘body to talk at, quarrel with—then kiss and make up again. Therefore 1 .am 0* i'!i to proposals from young la lies and fresh widows ot m ire average respectabil ity, tolerably tame in disposition, and , the hair of any oih>*r color than red. As near ly as l can judge of myself. I am not over eighty nor under twenty-five years of age in height, am either five foot eight, or .eight foot five, f ’.get which. Weight, 1 3b. 316, or .331. one of the three ; recollect each figure pei feet ly well, but as to t heir true arrangement am somewhat puzzled. Have a whole suit of iiair. dyed by Nature, and pretty free from dandruff. Eyes butternut briudlo, tinged with pea-green. Nose built according totin’ ionic-order of architect use, with a touch of the Composite, and a mouth between a catfish’s and an alligator’s made expressly for oratory hud the recep tion of large ovsters. Ears ualmated, long and elegantly shaped. My whiskers are a Combination of dog-hair, moss and briar bush —well behaved and fearfully luxuri ant. Am s >uud in w ind and limb, and on the nigger question. Wear No. 9 boots when corns are troublesome, and can write poetry bv the mile, with double rhyme at both edges— to read backward, forward, en sswise and diagonallv. Can play on the j- wsiiarp and base drum, and whistlu Yankee-doodle in Spanish. Am very cor rect in my morals, and first rate at ten pins ; have a regard for the Sabbath, and never drink only when invited. Am a domestic animal, and perfectly docile— when tow els are clean and shirt buttons on. If I possess a predominant virtue, it is that of forgiving every enemy whom I deem iti hazardous to handle. I say my prayers! eveiy night, mosquitoes permitting ; and ( as to whether I suore in my sleep, I | want somebody to tell me Money no object, as 1 never was troubled with any, and never expect toT be. IL-y ! gals ! BEAVERS” ™ The habits and habitat iuu& of beavers furnish mgriy iutyiestiug lessens for study ! for the woodmen and hunters, whether sei- t entitit* naturalists or not* In our boyhood i the principal sources of information respec ting them were the old and tins mid traces of dams that were found on every little brook 1 where we fished or hunted cowslips for i greens. These beaver dams consisted of , ridges ’of e’aVth from four fi>et above th(U common level*of the “beaver meadow” fiat, running each way from the brook to rising land. We could find great numbers of those dams wiien it would b* hard to un derstand how they could ever make ponds I :of sufficient depths for boaVers* use! But , the brooks in the primeval forest, before, the inroads of civilization, afforded more ; water than iu modern times, and in many., instances the mar.diy pools which the bea vers habits-require, by a natural prodess have grown up and filled to solid land. As in the older parts ot the country no new works were found, it was generally under stood that the beavers left and muved oil ’ whenever civilized settlements grew up near them, and we have been surprised to i find in this region the evidence of so many living beavers. On the different tributa ries of the iSt. John river miming out of this State, there are some hundreds of them caught every yyar ? and they do not seem j to aiimnisli. Hunting parties, whether of w hite men or Indians, consisting usually of two or three men, often get from ten to twenty beaver iu a win tin's hunt. Lum bering, operations have a tendency to drive them to the small brooks and head sources of the rivers, for w hen found on ‘'driving streams” their'dams have to be tern away; j but the)’ do not seem partieularlv shy of men or settlements unless their dams or houses are destroyed. Four or five years i ago, it is said, a company of them built : dams and houses in the town of Ashland, j only two miles from the village or corner, ; as it is called, and stayed two years, when a part were caught, and the lest driven a , way by the hunters. There are tw r o kinds of them, differing only in habits. For some reason now and then One of them usnallv wanders alone, : and has only a hole in the bend of the river to live in, while they generally live in pairs ! or families, building houses and dams, pro** i viding stores in companies—hence the terms “family” or “working beavers.”— Tim supposition is that ‘the bank beavers 1 tire such as have for some reason come short j of a mate, or for idleness have been driven from the ponds and hous s ; they are the j same animals every Way only exiles. The | law of industry among the working beavers j is .well attested to by hunters. Their dams | of houses are’ builr anew or rernod'died eve ! ry fall j and in a way to suit the height of I the waterduring the-'Succeeding winter or ) spring. The object of the dam seems to , regulate height of the water at their lious -1 es, where they have two or three berths at 1 different, heights, whore they sleep dry but ! with tails in the water thus being warned jof anv change in the rise or fall of water, i Some houses stand six feet at least above ( the surface of the meadow, covered with mud in the form of a round coal pit, but intersected with sticks of wood; so as to he - st.ro no\ and the-weight of three or four men makes no impression upon it. A “full family,” as hunters call them, ; consists of ihe parental pair and the males !of the next generation, with their mates. 1 When tiib tribe get larger than this they ! cmfouize - .’ Some time in the fall all single ones of both sexes congregate from consul eruble distances, at the deepest lake in the vicinity, where they choose A heir mates; hovv ceremonious the nuptials wo cannot j say ; then they all go home, the. female j following her mate, and all go to work, 1 first putting the house and dam in order ! for winter,.'then hiving in their stock of wood, the bark of which is their winter final. They go up the streams s noe three j miles for. their wood, and run it down to their houses aud then in some myterious way make it lay in a pile at the bottom of ! the pond, outside of the house, where they [ may take it in at any time in the winter ■ for use. It is said that no human hands ■ can disturb’ that wood without its rising and remainin • anoat till tuobeaver has the handling of it again. But we do not feel quite sure what is fact and what is conjec ture respecting the beaver, whose works are so much in tile night and deep underwater. Tlie fall of the year is.-a busy time with them, and it is interesting to s;ee their now dams in process of building, as we some times find thorn'a cross large boating streams and not unfrequently boatmen and liver drivers tent*, away th ir and ims and get a good head of water for their use. They usually build at ibe.oiitlet,of natural ponds, and sometimes they tl iw large lakes and Img oieci sos dead water, but are always moving and reconstructing. How tlrev 1 keep thmr teeth in order for so much eat ing. when the best steel would wear put is ‘ a mystery. They cut legs some, times a foot through, aud every stroke of the 1 tooth tells toward the j b, and never - decs a tooth get dull as we can are. Two win- ! ters ago. near Ashland, some lumber-men encamped near one of their p aids. Due j afternoon they tilled a tree across the lum ber road, and Lefpre morning it was cut up ; by the beavers and handsorut ly piled, out . of tin* road. —Aroostook Pioneer. Mr. Lincoln attended church at Buffalo ! last Sunday in Company with Mr. Fill rnorrg and atferwards th ‘ President elect i and his wife lunched with the Kx-Presi-| dent. No d<mbt, Sunday as it was, Mil lard took occasion to <_ r ivo Abraham some wholesome advice. —Eashviile Put. *Krlil crnr and c y 1 -ief or Volume 3 Number 17. An ( :)Nni!i)!H‘£Ual Physician. The Paris correspondent of the Boston Traveller relates the following : A story is told upon llayer, the eminent p: ysiciau here, lie was called in six wet k& ago to attend a sick child. Tile child—it was the only child of wealthy pa rents —reeovored its health. A few days after Raver luul discontinued his visits, the mother of the little invalid called on the Doctor. She said, ‘“My dear doctor, there are services rendered ill this world, w hich money cannot pay. I know not how* we could adequately reward you for your kindness and attentions and skill to poor Hr nest. And 1 have .bought that perhaps you would be good enough to accept tins iiUle jiorte monnaie—a mere trifle but which 1 emlnoideivd.” ‘ Porte Monnaie!” roughly replied the Doctor. “Medicine, Madame, is not a sentimental profession When we are called in to visit sick people we want their fees and not their gratitude. Gratitude-—humbug ! I’d like to see gratitude make the pot boil ; and 1 1 a/o not only to make my pot boil, but I have ! got a horse to iced, Madame, and a driver to pay, Madame, and daughters to portion 1 Madame, and gratitude won’t aid me to !do any of those things. Money is what is required—money, Ma lame—-yes, money.” The lady Was, as y< u may well imagine, confounded by this burst of indignant tul -1 cuts, and she could only stammer : “But— Doctor—what is your fee ?” “My foe is two thousand francs—and I tell you, Mud i ailie, there is no use senaming about it.- I 1 will not. take one soil less.” The lady did not scream—She quietly opened the 1 purte monnaie “I embroidered,” unrolled ! tho live bank notes in it, gave two to the 1 Doctor, pi.uii'd the ether thr in th port© uiommie, and the latter in her pocket, and bowed profoundly, “Good morning, Doc tor,"’ and made her exit. RAILWAY INVENTIONS. A traversing frame to remove cars from one line of rail to another has come into l use on some of the English railroads Ac- I cording to this plan, a strong frame sup ’ ported on wheels, which are covered by its sides, travels on a railway at light angles to the lines, from one to the other ot which the cars are to be transferred. The level of the upper surface of the j transverse rail is a little above that of the , principal lines, so that the latter are cleared by the iiuiigos of the wheels of the frame which therefore freely traverse them. The transverse liue is broken where it crosses the principal lines, space being left for the trains to pass To receive the car, a rail is placed like a shelf or ledge at the bottom , of the sides of the frame, so as just to clear the surface of the permanent rails, and to ! raise the ear upon this shelf, a switch is i provided, which, turning upon a hinge, ; may be brought, when the frame is prop erly placed, into the direction ot the prin | cipal line. The upper surface of this switch forms 1 an inclined plane, up which the car may be raised until its wheels rest upon the | shelf. The frame with its burden, is then pushed sid ways along the transverse rail, to which the car is to he transferred, and | tlie switch supplies ail inclined plane by which the car descends. This traversing ! frame, sup] lying, for many purposes, the use ot the turn table, is regarded as a use : I'ul invention. - —— THE T Hi: KST T< l UCII STUN k. —The truest touchstone by which we can approve the things which are conductive to our happi ness, is to.consider how they will operate I upon our minds for the lemainder of onr I life. Sor instance, you have niri oppoftti-* :nityot getting some great advantage by ! doing some vile thing : whilst vou look on iy at the advantage, and think over all the ways in which it may be serviceable to your 1 pleasure or ambition, so long the tempta- I tion may I*3 strong ; but set it a little dis tance lro'm you and the ease will he altered. Suppose the thing done and the advantage gained, and then put yourself in the pic ture looking Hick upon the whole transac-* tion and see what comfort will arise from tin* refection. Gan yon rejoice in the sight of woods and parks, if every sight of them must call to your mind an innocent man whom you mined to obtain them? Such a thought must ever be attended with a se cret abhorrence of ourselves : and how hap py the man is who lives under a continued displeasure with linns It lot any one judge. Tiii: Thames too Sift*'/no for Parlia ment. —The L union ‘J hues calls attention to tiie fact that the new Parliament Hou ses of England are in a state of preternat ural decav—in f .ct, fast going to ruin. — The efiluvia generated on the banks of the Thames has not only attacked and dispers ed the nicmb rs repeatedly, in spite of all the appliances brought to bear for its abate ment, but is rapidly acting upon the walls or that magnificent- structure. The stone employed it: their construction was a vari ety of dolomite, believed to be imperisha ble. It is proposed to glaze the walls with silicate of potash, applied in a liquid state. The farew 1! of some wives to their hus bands every m rnin^ —1 >ll y and buy. Whv i> n mutt like a fool ? Because it holds a lady’s hanel without squeezing it. Marriage of Miss Harriet Lake-. Mis* Lane celebrated the close of her uncle’s. Administration hv hein<r married on Mon day t< Mr. James Carlisle, the most bril liant lawyer iu Washington.