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J. W. BURKE & CO. jeorgia Journal & Messenger, ' \V. MI KKE A C»„ Proprietors. s. HONK. )_ hi tkh of simumo.i. DAILY. Xen dollars per annum. ~v e dollars tor six months. r„„doll*™ and titty cents for three months. ‘ )ne dollar tor four months. WEEKLY. Xtiree dollars per annum. ‘ dollar and fifty cents for six months. , me dollac for four months. J. W. BURKE A CO. WEDNESDAY, NOV. 4, 1868. vK Checks. —A correspondent of the New v - .hurwil us Commerce writes to the editor: , B y lß —Checks dated on Sunday, coupons . j ue 0 n Sunday, and ail kinds of commercial ,i. payable 'without grace and falling due 'ul'av- are" not payable until the Monday fol ' , aiitl a protest'of snch paper made on Salnr not, according to the rulings of our t , oind the drawer of a hill or the endorser of ‘ . lir t,in. Such was the opinion of the late q, e Bronson, as expressed to a Bank President. \V relieve this lias not been the usage with us, ~ t ) ia t all paper falling due on Suuday is required , aid on the Saturday previous. The editor of hamal of Commerce agrees with his correspon and cites an instance of an attempt made many r ; a o.i to coerce the payment on Saturday of a im ,,unt of maturing interest falling due on ; Uv an extreme pressure in tile money market the reason for urging such anticipation of and the arguments, drawn from the par -1 puvment of commercial paper, being very .j-ihle. The elfort failed, however, aud the pie above stated was well established. Ti,f editor of the same paper, in his money art!- „f the 26th ult., having stated that “no check .Id iie uet and until the day on which it is dated,” an "Old Bank Teller” says : I think you are in error. Banks consider a check an order to pay money on demand without re . |p, date. Payment could not be refused if the ’ k did not bear any date. The volume of busi in our citv banks renders it impossible for ,-"tidier to read the date oi every check. 11c will intentionally pay a check dated ahead ; but if lute is overlooked in payment, and the party thi amount to his credit, sucli cheek will he ~ ,i to his account as a draft ut sight, and the i- k will hold the party responsible. In order to prevent payment before a certain , it i- necessary to specify in the body of the i the day it is payable, it being dated tbe day it -sued. A check thus drawn becomes payable on t:„ day stated without (pace, and if not good, must protested to hold indorsers. Ile editor, however, holds to his original opin n, and insists that a check post-dated cannot be properly used until the date is reached. If a check emulate, it is not post-dated, and the present date may be properly assumed. A “bank would not be severely censured if the teller should by accident cash a post-dated check ; but an institu tion was held liable for the payment of a protested check, dated the 10th, and presented that day, which mis marked “not good” 6imply because the teller had applied the drawer’s funds to the pay nt of a memo andum check dated the 30th. The iser failed, mid the holder of the check sued the ,tik and recovered the money. An instrument specifies in the body of the document a n. day for payment, is not properly a cheek hut draft. Memorandum checks, as they are id, dated on the day when money Is to be rc i are often given as a pledge for the return of but they are not a proper security. The k should lie dated when issued, and tiie lender ild be held only by his word not to present it until tbe day that the payment is promised.” hie Journal of Commerce is high authority in all mial matters, and we give its opinion for the netit of our business commuuuy. To Bk Abolitionized.—We judge f|om the following extract from tbe inaugural uddress of Dr. McCosh, the recently elect ed President of Princeton College, that he hu determined to do nil in his power to i iliiionize it. We put the fact on record for the benefit of the public. If it keeps ■ Southern youth away from its soon to be desecrated walls, we sliull feel am ply repaid : "This college lias had a religious char acter in times past, and I shall aim to have this character continued. I would place no theological professor over the college, hut 1 would place the pure evangel of Jesus Christ. All of the community, whether white or black , whatever be his political or religious views, should have the privileges of this institution.” [Ap plause. j Wov ndkd.— Col. R. A. Wayne, formerly of the Ist Ga. IJegulars, was severely wounded on Tuesday, in Savannah, by the accidental discharge of a pistol in the hands of I)r. H’m. Duncan, whom he was endeavoring to restrain from shooting a uegro who had collared him. Ihe Pointers VVareuouse—is now in full 1 ' : - and is at once an ornament as well as a x-unrof much benefit to the city of Macon. It bus much pleasure to learn that our friends, os-i, Junes .v Reynolds, are doingngood busi - they having already received from the Ist of mber up to this time very nearly 7,000 bales 0 ucs crop. This would indicate that these ’ L >n H are general favorites with many of the - rrsof Middle aud Southwestern Georgia. ‘ m a business point of view, there is no II ” urie> more weight than that of Adams, Reynolds. Having a most capacious ' • house for the storage of Cotton, with such j judges and sellers of the staple as " v Are Adams and Peyton Reynolds, with b-mncial affairs under the personal supervi '•'» us Mr. D. B. Jones, this firm ranks high in oiumercial circles of Macon. ‘ their old friends we say, give them a call — tll t * u>se unacquainted, we have but to say ■ I tind no more accommodating gentlemen with than Adams, Jones & Reynolds. a i.i.kd.—in the difficulty on Tuesday, hu the Ogeechee road, near Savannah, ' aai l : s - Law, a son of lion. Witt Law, l ' ''filed by the negro mob. ♦ «♦ ♦ esters Railroad.—lt will be seen by ■ an advertisement elsewhere that the aid consolidation of the Southwestern aud Railroads has been fully consummated. ' an excellent arrangement for both roads, ensure the prosperity of the Muscogee M\ing its stockholders the advantage of its of the entire line of road. i>ai abridge Argus reports very fa a 3 of the sugar caue crop in that sec •"n horse thieves were taken out of the Kentucky,on Thurs .‘.tst, and hung. The right kind of for the disease. ‘oth&T' 8 ltter wr ’ ter > w h° saw Victoria re fi'fiL. C | ly ; Says : " She is a little, dumpy, tuvlng i, ! ' ’ dressed * u black, and which inlk' Cr tye U ,lull sor£ of B leam > asjdu ° n . e * uvoluntar *'y think of a who mere ■ • ' dlere are inauy farmers ante su, 'P ort themselves ami iiiles av h ll>e of six acres, in Uerwa, \ eaVy re,,t9 * Agricultur :ive i'eres supp 0 r t o'' 0 proprietor* of aiouey, u »eui se ives ami lay up ■' r °fefwor Mornv , '' lau ' informed’»ro ril ° qUiat and Utah a * armiu gton aettle '-'Ufcmeat '.j Ct °ker 2d, and Secession K - v f or a!) ’:' The doorkeeper took, in barw ! i0D ’ flour - wheat, corn, ''f Peach' e^B ' ut f er > molasses and ' *‘ a Were and all kinds of ■ e KKti re^f* v ®d at five cents per &t 5" ’ a Ce uts per dozen, molas -15 * a ‘ lon ’ Gutter 35 cents, and Uke » | UtS <>ne ,uau wanted him ;■ f tseor 7 beelb * rr ° w of The ,Jlic kets U t "° gallon brass kettle for £ B :, a9 kllled in Columbus, fore the election. R ~ = ~ ’ ============== * DIRECT TRADE FOR EUROPE. The good people of Charleston were startled, most pleasantly, ou Friday morn ing last, by the arrival in that harbor of the first-class steamship “Golden Horn” from Hartlepool, England, the pioneer of the line betweeu Liverpool and Charles ton. He: cargo bits already been engaged, and she will leave for Liverpool on the loth inst., soon* to he followed by the “.Marmora” and “Bosphorus.” Anticipating the early establishment of the line between Bavannah and Liverpool, it occurs to the Columbus Enquirer of Sat urday to show the immense advantages sure to result not alone to the cotton plant ers. hut the Booth generally, from direct trade with European markets, taking Fri day’s quotations in New York and Liver pool, and New York respectively, as a basis of argument, in order to show the pecuni ary advantages of such a policy. It will be seen, says the Enquirer , that while our Middling cottons are quoted in Liverpool at lid., they are quoted in New York at only 35c. —tbe Liverpool market having been improving for several days of this week, while no imptovement is disceina hle in the New York market, i t is evi dently the purpose of the “hears” of the latter to keep down the prices as long as they cau, in the hope of thus reacting upon the advancing tendency of the foreign markets. Now let us compare the real values of th'ese quotations, and see the true differ ence. When gold is worth 134[, the value of the greenback dollar is 75 cents. The New York quotation, then, is 18i[c. in gold. To the Liverpool quotation of lid. (22c.) in gold, we must add the difference in exchange betweeu American specie funds and British sterling. This is usu ally 8 to 9 per cent., say 2 cents to the pound of cotton. Thus we have 24 cents in American coin as the teal price in Liv erpool of our middling cotton yesterday, or 5} in gold more than the New York price. The freight charge on cotton from New York to Liverpool by steamer, as quoted by the New York Times of the 24th inst., was §d. —we w^Jlsay, estimating as much for insurance, that in gold pays the entire cost of transportation be tween New York and Liverpool. There we have a plain showing of a loss to our planters of 3ijc. in gold (about sc. in cur rency) on each pound of cotton shipped to New York instead of Liverpool. We bear in mind the fact that it takes a rather better description of cotton to rate as “Middling” in New York than that so rated in Liverpool. This makes the dif ference still greater in favor of the latter market, but it is so small that we take no notice of it. It would probably cover drayage. It may be said that cotton would this week have probably advanced a little in the New Yoik market (say \ to lc.) in re sponse to the Liverpool market, hut for the fact that gold has been declining. This is only another argument in favor of direct trade with Liverpool. Our great staple is too much uuder the control of New York commercial gamblers—too much affected by their swindling opera tions for advancing or lowering the value of the currency of the country. The Southern people, in their struggle to re gain prosperity, need stability in the eur <• - - .—V. :„1. -.’ll .u . that brings them much money. This they can secure, as well as much better prices, by establishing a direct trade with Europe; aud they would also gain largely by a trade that would enable them to purchase in Europe, at lower prices than at present, many commodities now bought in our Northern States*- P. S. —The above article was written for our paper of yesterday, hut could not appear then. By reference to later dis patches the reader will see to what a small extent (if at all) it has been affected by yesterday’s quotations. EXCITEMENT IN THE LAND MARKET. During the last few days, several plan tations and farms have changed hands at prices ranging from six to nine dollais per acre. While this is a good indication of returning prosperity, we would warn our friends not to sacrifice their lands. Mark our prediction, these very lands will bring from twenty to twenty-five dollars per acre in two years. What is there for our people to invest their sur plus money in, that will pay half as well as our cotton lauds? If your lands are valueless, so are your Bail Koad Stocks, town property and mercantile interest. Our poorest lands will produce one bale of cotton, worth upwards of SIOO 00, to four acres; our best lands will make a bale to two acres; these lauds are now bringing only from six to nine dollars per acre. Admitting that it cost twelve dol lars and fifty ceuts to cultivate an acre of land, and that it takes four acres to make a bale of cotton, even then the land will pay for itself the first year. Suppose it would take tnree years of constant atten tion to your farming interests to secure you a good plantation of one thousand acres. What other country in the world is there where you can do half so well? Again we would say don’t sacrifice your lands. If you sell reinvest without delay, and go to work energetically on your farms and in a few years you will not feel any of the losses sustained by the war Sumter Republican, 2 d. On a certain day a great muster was to come oll'at some tavern in the county of Henrico, Va., and of course a cockfight or two. At the appointed time, a great many persons were present, and among them Mr. M., a gentleman of the real old stripe, who made a few ten dollar bets on the cockfights, and lost every one. He was commenting on his bad luck, when Old Ned was seen approaching with a large bag thrown over his shoulder. “Halloo, Ned, what have you got there ?” “Fust rate cock, Massa M.” “Game, Ned ?” “Oh, yes; game as a panther, Massa M.” “Out with him, Ned ; out with him.” And Ned drew forth a large speckled cock which, to judge by his size, was a perfect bruiser. “What’s the price, Ned?” “Five dollars, Massa, au’ cheap at dat, an’ if any cock on dis ground kill dis cock, I gim you back de moSiey.” The bargain was accordingly struck, and the match made rightaway. M. bet about the amount he had already lost, aud the cocks were put iu the ring. At the first touch of the steel, old Ned's cock gave a most awful squall, and took a strong wing for the woods. M was furi ous, while the crowd laughed—fairly screamed, with the eujoymeut of the fun, Old Ned was accordingly hauled up, with the application of some pretty hard epi thets. “Didn’t I tell you, Massa M says Ned, “if auy cock here kill dat cock, I give you back de five dollars? Butdey got toeoteh him fus ; an I ueber see any cock outrun £ld Skewball in all my life. Ya! ya!” M. wanted to be very angry, but it was no go ; his anger was choked down by tlie uproarious laughter of the crowd that met him on every side, and he was forced to enjoy it as a capital joke. Good for a Freedman, or any Other Man. — We understand that a Freedman in ibis county, who, by his industry and economy, had saved three hundred dol lars, rented, in March last, seventy-live acres of land which he planted in cottou, and succeeded iu cultivating it with two old horses purchased at seveuty-live dol lars each. Asa reward for his labor he will gather twenty-five bales of cotton, worth twenty-five hundred dollars. Let town loafers and idlers, white and black, imitate his example [Sumter Republican , 2 d. * l *^~ n o ,, -An Explanation VVan.eS. the r'nmi‘m ,U £ fron , l a receDt number of wort nfV’a lIJe * /< 2“ r ?«L we recognize as the work of George D. Prentice : c ”uple of years ago, while going from S" « were aUrXd h !and h s2" rant of astronomy as not to know w-"at I^was' 1 Uaß ' NVe .. thoUght Uto be Jupiter, it Has so exceedingly large and l»riirht hat we could hardly belief H at firs?to be a star but thought that it might be a burning balloon. We continued to look cou * £autl >' ’hiring our walk , in at length, turning away our eves for a ew moments and then looking up again e saw nothing where it had been h ul 1 ti me bUe • Bky - We st °PP*‘l and con the n irl 1,1 utler astonishment upon J? w " here 11 1151,1 Lid i a ftvv moments it came out from the unshadowed sky as large and glorious a- j w hen we first beheld it. We fixed our eyes upon it, and after awhile it again aud lß mfi’ ,anil tiie I,r, . ,ce *s was verysuiiden ser'L, 1L CK a < ? ccu l , 3' lu K than two YvL iLV ,^ gaiu 11 reappeared as before. I v\e beheld its successive disappearance anil reappearance repeated three or four times. When it was visible, there would >e a strange hue upon the sky where it Dud disappeared, bearing no resemblance w batever to a cloud, but a wan, weird ghastly, and deathlike hue, so faint as to be searceiy perceptible, aud apparently some five or six feet in diameter. It wL, > tne eye what the soul-likc murmur of a pine in alow wind is to the ear. It sug gested to us the saucy of Die -Giost of a Honl' ri f h* s . l,a(1 l ow brooding over the lost sf>ul of the dead star. We returned to our office and wrote a brief description of the 1 phenomenon, requesting that someone of ' our scientific friends would send us au explanation of it, but we received nothing 1 upon the subject. 8 week °r so ago, about 9 o’clock at ’ ° U m • fne,lU Areher iiud ourselves were walking up Walnut street, when we beheld in tiie east a great bright planet evidently the same That we had seen a couple of years before, though not so large and hnght as then. We called our friend’s attention to it, and, as it was a remarka ble object, both of us stopped to look at it, the sky being as blue and clear a sky as ever bent over the earth. We had not looked more than eight or ten seconds when U vanished just as we had before seen it vanish. Our friend was greatly surprised and suggested that there must certainly be some invisible cloud there but we recognized the same pale, livid’ mysterious and ghostly appearance that w e had so long and so vividly remember ed, and we knew that there was no cloud there, visible or invisible. Soon the star came forth in all its brilliancy. Our friend and oui selves waited to see it disappear, as it did several times, and, at each disap pt arauce, the phenomenon of the spectral apparition was the same. We were dis posed again to request through our paper a solution of what so much perplexed us but we did not. ’ Last Tuesday night, at about the hour ot nine, we were returning home with our little grandson seven years old, and beheld the same planet, apparently diminished nearly one-half in size aud brilliancy since we had looked at it with Dr. Archer though still larger and more lustrous than any other star visible in tbe heavens. Meeting a literary and scientific friend we pointed the star out to him, and told him what we had seen. He thought it exceedingly strange and wholly unac ouunlable. The little boy’s curiosity was excited, and, taking our band, he looked constantly at the bright object on the way homeward. Just as we ariived at our gate, he exclaimed excitedly, “ Oh, grand pa, the star has gone out again.” We gazed upward, and it was indeed gone \V e and the tittle fellow watched fifteen or twenty minutes, and saw it go out and come back at least a dozen times. When ever it could not be seen, the lurid, pallid, spirit-like apparition that we have spoken of was visible. Several times tbe planet merest point that the eye corn'd possibly detect, and then it would suddenly resume its brightness, but generally it vanished altogether. Now, this may be a phenomenon famil iar to one-halfof the intelligent men of all communities, but we have not talked with any one that ever witnessed it. If we ought to be ashamed of our ignorance, we will thank any friend who will remove it. * ♦- FORREST. The General Gets after the Meanest Man in Anier iea—The Fellow Kilpatrick Renounced as a Pol troon, a Liar, and a Scoundrel. Memphis, October, 28, 1868. H. K Shackleford, Esq , New Haven, Connecticut: Bir— Tiie false and mendacious repre sentation of me, made by General Judson Kilpatrick, of New Haven, ou tbe 20th instant, to which you call my attention, is not tHe first in which he has indulged since his appearance on the hustings in this canvass. I understand he freely em ployed his criminal capacity for ribald invention in all of the speeches he has made since his return to this country, and that I have been the objective point of many of his unprincipled and indecent libels. The Northern masses have been so prone to misunderstand any appearance that I have made in tlie present campaign that I have ber-n content, heretofore, to forego any notice of General Kilpatrick’s inventions with reference to myself, and to trust that some future and more auspic ious time would afford me an apportunity of stripping the imposter and of exposing him, tiie base conterfeit lieis, to the con tempt of all just and fair-minded people. My forbearance, however, is construed by him as a license to additional and more slandertus detraction, and lam constrain ed to notice his New Haven speech, as it appeared in the Register, of October 21, 1868. 111 that speech he is reported as say iug that “Forrest had nailed negroes to fences, set fire to the feuces and burned the negroes to death.” This charge is but the natural offspring of Kilpatrick’s common and merited fame as an unprincipled aud easy liar. It is enough for me to say, iu which I feel I will be believed and sustained by every chivalric officer and soldier of the Feder al army, that what he has said of me in the speech referred to is the culmination of slanderous falsehood, rendered the more odious that it is deliberately froged for etl'ect upon the unthinking and too con fiding portion of the people of the North, whose votes he intends to steal by such criminal anil disreputableinvention. All such reports, whether emanating from this creature Kilpatrick, or from any one else, which tend in any way to create the impression that I conducted my humble part in the war upon auy other than the strickest principles of civilized warfare, are uttqjlv untrue, aud are the corrupt and feculent fictions of designing and ras cally slanderers. I am not prone to ob trude matters of this kind upon the public uotiee, and would have been glad to have met Kilpatrick and settled their affair in a less public and more emphatic manner ; and if it should happen that this note should meet his eye, aud he should make it the provocation of any additional dis play of words, any one who may hear him is at liberty to assure him that I am ready to meet him iu any way that he may choose, and whilst I am adverse to per sonal conflict I should much prefer to gratify auy wish he may cherish iu that way to being the further subject of his unmanly defamation and uusoldier-like mis re prese 11 ta tio u. I think the public will justify me in de nouncing, as I do, General Judson Kilpat rick as a blackguard, a liar, a scoundrel and poltroon. If he is the heroic figure he would have the Northern people believe him, my friend. General Bazil VY. Duke, at Louisville, Kentucky, is authorized to receive on my behalf any communication he may choose to make. Respectfully, N. B. Forrest. Neoko Jury.— At Talladega Court, in the State of Alabama, a few days ago, a regular black jury was empanueled. Here is the result as described by a party pres ent : There were about fifteen negroes tried for various offences, each one of whom, on his trial, demanded a white jury, aud every one of them was acquitted except one, aud his punishment was light. The colored jurors sat in their box from Monday morning until Saturday night, without having a single case submitted to them. —Columbus Sun, 1 stinst. MACON, GA., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1868. I From the Savannah News ] SAVANNAH, AN NEKA UV GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON IN 1791. 1 he “ Southern tour ” made by General : »ashiugton in 1791 has beeu mentioned i often by his biographers, but none of those i who have mentioned it have done more than to refer to it During his tour Gen eral Washington kept a diary, which for tunately has been saved and now appears in book form, edited by Mr. Bens m J. Lossiug. Monday night, as stated bv the Sews and Ilerahl, Mr. W. S. Bogart en tertained the Georgia Historical Society by reading extracts from the book. Tbe account ot the General’s visit to Savan nah appears in the book, and as it is of in terest, we publish it, only writing «>ut the anhreviations: ot 16 £ J euera ' •‘‘ft Philadelphia on the -Ist of March, 1791, to make the trip, and after visiting all of the principal cities along the route, arrived at Purisburg, in South Larolina, on Hie 19th of May of the same year. [Purisburg is about thirty miles from here j “ Here I was met by Messrs. H. WmiOerly Jones, Col. Joseph Habersham, Mr. John Houston, General Dochlin Mclutosh, and Mr. Joseph Clay a committee from the city of Savannah to conduct me thither. Boats were also or dered there by them for my accommoda tion, among which was a handsome eight oared barge, rowed by eight American I e.iptams, attended. In my way down the river I called upon Mrs. Greene, the wid ow of the deceased General Greene, at a place called Mulberry Grove, and asked her how she did At this place (two miles from Purisburg) my horses and car riages were lauded, and had twelve miles farther by land to Savanna. The wind and tide both being against us, it was G o clock befoie we reached the city, wuere we were received under every demonstra tion t Hat could be given of joy ami respect. VVe were seven hours making the passage which is often performed in four, though in e ? ni Puled distance is fifteen miles Ilium ns at night. [llluminations meant, i 1 was conducted by tiie Mayor and Ward ens to very good lodgings, which had been provided tor the occasion, aud partook of f, publ !^ dl l luer gi ve » by the citizens at .uLofree Booms. At Purisburg I parted witli General Moultrie. Dined with tbe Members or the Cincinnati at a public dinner given at the same place, and in the evenin'-- went to a dancing Assembly, at which there were about one hundred well dressed and handsome lad es. . 14th of May—A little after 6 o’clock in company with General Mclntosh, Gen eral Wayne, the Mayor, and many others (principle gentlemen of the city,) I visited the city, aud the attack and defence of it in the year 1779, under the combined forces of France and tbe United States, commanded by tiie Count de Estaing ami General Lincoln. To form an opinion of tne attack at this distance of time, and the change which has taken place in the appearance of the ground by the cutting away of the woods, &c., is hardly to be done with justice to the subject, especially as there is remaining scarcely any of the defences. "Dined to-day with a number of the cit izens (not less than 200) in an elegant Bower erected for the occasion on the bank ot tiie river below the town. In the evening there was a tolerably good display of fireworks. 1 J Sunday, 15th of May —After mornin iir service, and receiving a number of visi tors from tbe most respectable ladies of tbe place, (as was tbe case yesterday) I set out for Augusta, escorted beyond the limits of tiie city by most of the gentle men in it, aud dining at Mulberry Grove the seat of Mrs Greene, lodged at one Spencer’s, distant 15 miles. ‘bavanuah stands upon what may be called high ground for this country. It is extremely sandy, which makes the walk ing very disagreeable, and the houses un comfortable in warm aud windy wea'her as they are filled with dust whenevei best happen. The town on three sides is sur rounded with cultivated rice fields, which have a rich and luxuriant appearance, sand. lbe ; harbor is said to be very gv'Ajtq and often filled with square rigged vessels,’ hut there is a bar below, over which only vessels drawing not more than twelve feet of water can be brought, except at spring tide. The tide does not llow above twelve or fourteen miles above the city, though tiie river is swelled by it more than double that distance. Bice and tobacco, (tbelast of which is greatly increasing,) are tne principal exports. Lumber and indigo are also exported, but tiie latter is on rlie decline, and it is supplanted by hemp and cotton. Ship timber, viz: live oak and cedar, is (and may be more so,) valuable in the exportation ” During the reading, Mr. Bogart stated that the house in which Washington lodged was (according to tradition) the wooden house at tiie corner of Barnard and President streets, on the eastern side of the square. He further called the at tention of the Society to the fact, that Washington did not mention that lie was received with a salute of artillery, when at other places he always noticed that he was received iu that way, and stated “that the Chatham artillery did give a salute, and he noticed it by afterwards sending them two brass six-pounders, which the company kept until 1864, when the guns which were here fell into the hands of the United Btates soldiers. THE GRECIAN UE.MI ! !—A HOME INVENTION. It is known apparently to but few per sons that the Grecian Bend originated, or was designed, not in New York, nor in Paris, hut here iu Washiugton, Ga. The inventor is au obscure person, but a very woithyoneiu ber humble sphere ; a col ored woman named Anake, once a slave of Merrel P. Cutaway, and now living upon the lot owned by him on Main street, in this town. V» e have been ac quainted with old Anake, who is now quite old, hut hale aud hearty ; for many years, aud since the emancipation we have never seeu ,lier upon the street, in any other costume than this of her own inven tion. The history of the invention is sim ply this. Auake, in the days of slavery, being a faithful and esteemed servant of her owners, had an easy life, and lared well. Consequently, work was very hard to herafter freedom came, audshe thrown upon her own resources. Mr. Callaway allowed her a piece of land to cultivate however, and since she has, for three years past, made her bread by bard work with the hoe, aud earned her meat by laboring over the wash tub. Under the pres sure of hard times, her ingenuity led her to devise this elegant and becoming style, as one in which the posture of the body is adapted to the burden of her work. She is always in positiou for work at either branch of her calling, and takes hold with equal facility aud ease, either of the hoe handle or the wash board, tso well pleas ed is*this faithful aud honest old negro with her invention, that she always ap pears in costume, holding herself ready for auy emergency. Such ready adaptation of one’s self to the necessities of these hard times is not UsQal, and challenges our admiration. Auake has accepted the situation in good faith aud come down to her work in a manner worthy the contemplation of many who move above her in life. She has beeu at no extra expense either in providing herself with “ the bend ” since ber equipment is likely to wear as long as sbe lives. Wbat sharp plagiarist has stolen the idea of tlie humble old woman, we know not. A-great uumberof strange characters have passed through Washington, and seen her, since the war. But so it is, that is in fact, her own invention now being paiaied abroad iu the earth, dressed up a little iu ribbons aud pauuiers by those whose nat ural formations forbid the adoption of pos ture without these he’ps, and is chris tened by these who stole it, the Grecian Bend merely to hide its obscure origin. Old Auake is the Mother of it.— Washing ton (Ga.) Gazette. The lowa Agricultural College, which opens this month, receives pupils without distinction of sex. While the young men learn farming ttie young women learn to cook and keep house. A woman atone of the New York city dispensaries applied for medical aid, sta ting her disease to be flirtation of the heart. “ Not an uncommon ailment with your sex, ma’am,” said the doctor, with a twinkle of the eye. thi-RSDav, .voy) 5 ; ijiis. GEORGIA ELECTION RETURNS. At Bartow, Jefferson eouuty, at 3 P. M. on luesday, the vote was Se‘vm ur 111 - Grant 6. * Pulaski county has covered herself with ?>ory. Hawkinsville gives 5G7 majority for Seymour. The Demoeraiic majority in the county is 771. Covington gives 250 Democratic major- Py; Conyers 490; Stone Mountain 221, Decatur 220. -Schley county gives 300 Democratic ma- J ° nty - In Mitchell county nearly all the votes polled were Democratic Sumter county, l.oio Democratic majority. In Dooly county only eight Radical'votes polled. Houston, 800 Democratic major ity ; Baker. 400 do; Dougherty, 1-50 do; Randolph, SOOdo; Macon, 18 do; Terrell 700 do. ’ Jones county 423 Democratic, and not a Radical vote polled in the county. Jasper county 1,300 Democratic votes, apti three Radical votes. Richmond county gives about SOO Rad ical Majority. Cbsitbatn county between htK» am? 1,000 Democratic majority. Imperfect returns show the following majorities: Pike, Democratic maj. 226; Lowndes, Dem. maj. 197; Harris, Dem.' 214 ; Catoosa, Dem. maj. 249; Floyd, Dem. maj. 362; Newton, Dem. maj. 400; Fulton, Dem. maj. 500; Cobb, Dem. maj. 398; Whitfield, Dem. maj. 36; Thomas, Rep! maj. 169; Decatur, Rep. maj. 130; Morgan Rep. maj. 296; Clark, Rep 65. Muscogee gives 500 Democratic majori ty, and elects the Democratic countv ticket. J OFFICIAL VOTE OF 8188 COUNTY. DEM. HAD. R la ?. on \7 1.912 2,895 Rutland 118 0,000 Warrior 28 y azard 42 o,oob Howard 9 (),000 To ta!..... 2,194 2,918 Radical majority, 724. At the very lowest calculation, 500 of this majority belongs in Twiggs, Jones, Monroe, sud other counties, leaviug the real negro majority in the eouuty about two hundred. general presentmenrs PULASKI SUPERIOR COURT.> Octobeh Term, 1868. / 'A e, tne Grand Jurors chosen and sworn for the October term of the Superior Court of Pulaski County, 18s«, beg leave to make the ioilowiu°- geueral presentments : W e have examined, through committees, the hooks ot the Clerk of the Superior aud Inferior Courts, and And them neatly and correctly kept. We have also examined the books of the Ordinal ry, and report them kept with their usual neat ness. As Treasurer ot the Poor Sciiool Fund, the Ordinary has received from the Tax Collector of the oeuuty, for the year 1867, the sum of s3*7, and paid $172 39, leaving a balance in his hands of SIM 01. We also And on Ale in his office unpaid accounts against said school fund to the amount of $468 47. UYou examination of the Treasurer’s books we Ami that several errors have been made In the entries and additions; at the same time, the Grand Jury are of the opinion that these errors are cierical rather than intentional. The amount ot money received by the Treasurer up to date as appears upon his bo ks, is $26,791 61; amount of disbursements, $23,970 97. which, with commis sions charged, 10-wit: $1,211 06, leaves a balance due the county of $576 58. We And, however, in tiie treasurer's hands, vouchers not yet entered upon the books, to tiie amount of $Bl3 75, which nnce-” I’nis*l°uson 1 ’ nis * l ° uson Bame - <2l 09,1 leaves a bal- MV'CDooks also suuw i,um>u.. ..... .7. paid over to the County Treasurer the sum oi $19,581 86, aud that lie has received for the years 1860 and 1867, upon the best in formation that can be obtained, the suin of $19,257. The receipts of the Poor School Fund by the Tax Collector for the same time amounts to $1,422 99, aud lie has paid out the sum of $1,152 90, leaving still due to said fund the sum of $270 00. The Treasurer’s books show a balance due the Tax Collector, on County fund, of $313 86 but an error appears in an order passed by the Superior Court, July Ist, 1868, allowing the Tax Collector the sum of $59!) 00 —uncollected State and County taxes as insolvent list—of which amount tiie sum of $:99 3) alone should be credited to the Tax Col lector on County Fund, .which would leave the sum< f S3l 38 to his credit, and this amount de ducted from t lie balance due by the Tax Collector on the Poor School Fund would leave a balance due by the Tax Collector to the county of 5238 64. This unpaid balance we are satisfied would have been collected and paid over but for the lact that the Tax Collector has been prevented from col lecting some of the taxes by the application of parlies in bankruptcy, thereby postponing the receipts of amounts due by them until appoint ment of assignees. The present indebtedness of the county we And 1 1 be $10,133 71. VVe recommend that a tax of 109 per cent, ou the stale tax be levied for the present year, for county purp ses. aud if there be any surplus over a:ter defraying the current expenses of the county, that the same bo applied Arst to the pay ment of interest upon said debt, aud then to out standing orders pro rata, pre.fe rring those orders upon which no money has beeu paid to those which have alrea ly had credits placed upon them. We And the court house re quiring no immedi ate repairs, but we recommend that glass be placed in tbe windows, and locks upon the uoors where needed. ThejailweAnd very insecure, and requiring a iditional saf-guards to prevent the escape of prisoners. VVe recommend that iron liars be u-e ! so- the outside doors in snch a mauneras to mike the same a catch for the locks, and that these bars ha secured by iron bolts extending through the logi, aud clinched; and that iron spikes bedr.ven in the logs around the windows to prevent the removing of the bars. We report the roads generallly, throughout the county, as iu bad condition. In view of our dis turbed political and social affairs, and the gen eral neglect of other than individual interest, we do not attach that blame to the Justices of the Peace of the respective precincts, who are, by special enactment, road commissioners in tills county-, that they might do under other circum stances; and yet we cannot but charge negligence upon the officers having this portion of the coun ty interest in hand, and therefore call their spe cial attention to this matter in our general pre sentments. In relation to our county bridges, we find in some of them great causes of complaint—of cul pable negligence and disregard of public interest. In concluding our general presentments, we beg leave to congratulate onr citizens upon the restoration of civil government and upon the fact that our courts are once more enabled to dis charge their functions without interference from the military authorities. We have additional reason for congratulation, however, in this Judi cial Circuit, in view of the fact that the recent appointment of Judge Alexander, to fill the office so long and ably filled by his predecessor, Judge Ilausell, hearliiy accords with the wishes of our citizens, and relieves them from a painful anx.e ty they were indulging in as to who should be Judge Hanseil’s successor. His appointment meets our warm approval, and we pledge him, in advance, our earnest and active co-operation in the suppression of crime and preservation of or der, and cordial assistance in conducting the business of our courts, in taking leave of his Honor, we respectfully tender him onr expres sions of warm personal regard, and extend to him our thanks for the wise, able, and Impartial manner in which he has conducted the business. Congratulate g ourselves upon the reappoint ment of our able and efficient Solicitor. W. B. Bennett, we beg leave to present him renewed ex pressions of confidence, and tender him our thanks for his courtesy and urbanity to this body. We request that these presentments be pub lished in the Journal and Messenger, of Ma con, and tne Southern Leader, at Hawkinsville. ORREN C. HORNE, Foreman. 2 Stephen - W. Brown, 12 Count P. Fleming, ;! John H. Pate. ISA. H. Bramblktt, 4 Jakes <>. Jelks. 11 a. R. Colev, 5 John W. Harrell, 15 K. B. Dykf-s, 6. Tyo.-i F. McCormick, 16 Patrick T. McGriff, 7 JiSIES 1.. Lamkin, i7 K. F. DeLamah, S Wm. W. Hardy, 18 E. E Philips, 9 James Fleming, 19 Thos. King, 10 Jno. w. KozemaN; 2o Chan. E. Clarke, 11 Daniel Rawls, 2i Jas. L. Bryan. The regular tobacco year closed iu Lou isville on the 31st ult. During last year 29,508 hogsheads were sold, valued at $3,686,637. AT THE WINDOW. i BY THE AUTHOR OF “JOHN HALIFAX, GKNTI.EM AX," Only to listen—listen and wait For his slow Ann step down the gravel walk ; to hear the click-click of his hud at the gate. And feel every heart beat through careless talk. Ah, love is sweet when life is voung ! And life and love are both so long. Only to watch him about the room. Lighting it up with his quiet smile. I hat seems to lift the world out of gloom. And bring heaven nearer un»—for a while, A little while—since love is vonug. And life is as beautiful as long. Only to love him—uothiug more ; Never a thought of hi^loving me; Proud of him, glad in him. though lie bore My heart to shipwreck on this smooth sea. Love s faith sees only grief, not wrong, And life is da ring when ’tis young. Ay me ! what matter? The world goes round. And bliss and bale are but outside tilings • I never cau lose what in him I found, ’ rhough love be sorrow with half-grown wings; And if love nil's when we are vouug, 5\ hy, life is still not long—not long. And heaven is kind to the faithful heart; Aud if wc are patient, aud brave, and calm. Our fruits will last though our flowers depart ■ Some day, when I sleep with folded palm ’ No longer fair, no longer young. Life may not seem so bitter long. **■*#* The tears dried up iu her shining eyes Her parted lips took a suintlv peace: His shadow across the doorway lies— Will her doubts gather, darken—or cease » 55 hen hearts are pure, and- bold, and strong True love as life itself is long. THE OLD KEEPER’S STORY. It was a quaint room in which I sat, with the firelight dashing into each corner, and tiie stuffed birds, foxes and pole cats looking life like in the leaping blaze. A quaint cottage room, but the essence of comfort. As I pulled at the stiff’ glass of water and whiskey and puffed my meershaum, I felt excessively comfortable. I was iu no hurry to get my wet water boots dried, which lay steam ing ou the ample hearth. My temporary host sat opposite; a tine, athletic old man, with snow-white hairaud whiskers. The cut of his coat and tiie wary look ou his weather beaten, houest face sufficiently told tiie ex-game keeper, had not the retriever pup at his leet and the gun behiud him -added evidence. A tine spec imen of his class, lie was well-knit even at eighty years of age, with a frank, cheery look in his eye that told of straight-forwaid truth and worth. I had b--en snipe shooting on some marshes I rented of the lady of the matior, aud having got soaked in a deep rivulet from a fall, had sought shelter in the keeper’s cottage. To be a sportsman was, to be sure, a passport to his favor, added (o which his grandson, Tom, was my invariable at tendant and bag carrier. The old man I had seen but once, when on my renting the shooting from Lady Lin wood, he, as her head keeper, had shown me tiie boundaries. The great hall was closed, for Lady Liuwood, a childless widow, lived perma nently at Nice, and her fair es’ates were all let. She was a widow of a poor Lieutenant Colonel knigthed for gallant service, and had succeeded to the property in lack of direct heirs. Seamen, my host, was something more than head keeper. Evidently lie had been one of those an cient trusted servants to whom the honor and wel fare of a family are dear as to its own members. A nd by the sad look on his face whenever lie spoke of the squires of Liuwood I fancied some portion of the family history was mournful aud unhappy. “Do you see much of Lady Linwood?” I asked. “Never, sir. She always is abroad. And there’s never been a Linwood hero since the last squire died.” “That was long ago?” “Yes, sir, long ago. Five and forty years agone, sir,” said he, musingly, his eyes fixed on the fire. “Five and forty years agone—and like yes terday.” 1 was interested. The keeper’s manner, action and expression were all unlike his class, and I felt a curiosity, as we all do when something tells us of a hidden history. ‘•I suppose the last squire had a good stock of game?” said I. •‘Yes, sir. Hundreds of pheasants he turned out—l was a youngster then—underkeeper— aud I used to fetch all the sacks of barley to feed ’em." “Aud was he much of a sporismau?” ‘jYeSt. sir. With the guu, rod and horse lie was aut aud kind to tiie tenants, but with a fearful tem per, if anything should go wrong. He’d rave, and swear, and smash all around Him in the room when lie was in one ofliis storms. The only person who managed him was Miss Dora.” Here the keeper became silent, and a look of deep sadness came over bis rugged face. * You’ll have to stay a longish time, sir, for your things ate soaked. So, if you like to hear i‘, I’U tell you the story. I suppose I’m like old meu, sir, aud like to maunder," he added, with a smile of natural dignity and courtesy, which might have befitted a prince. “Mr. George Linwood, live and forty years ago, was tiie squire. Ue lived with his mother, a gen tle lady. She was always on her sofa, and never well, but kind as an angel to the poor. Miss Dora Maitland, her niece, came to stay up at the Hall wiih them. Her parents were very poor, and slic’d six sisters; so they were glad—Miss Dora’s parents, I mean—when Mrs. Linwood said she’d adopt her as a daughter. I heard this, you know, from the lady’s maid at the Hall, who was aiterward ray wile. She died years ago." And the old man sighed, and glanced at an empty chair near his own. ‘‘Well sir,” he resumed ; “Miss Dora came, arid Mrs. Linwood was very fond of her. So was everybo ly, for she was so sweet and gentle, and her voice was like a blackbird’s. Everybody about the estate knew Miss Dora, and she used to go about in her broad hat and carol her song, for all the world like a blackbird in the holly. The cot tagers used to know her, for whenever any one was ill there Miss Dora was, petting and cosseting them. “So, sir,” resumed the old man after a pause, “by-and-by Mr. George became lond of Miss Dora. He used to follow her about and watch all her wishes. He broke in a chestnut Ally himself, and used to ride with her. But she seemed shy to him. His temper was so shifty, and she heard his curses once when he was bitterly angry, though he didn’t know she was in hearing; and she seemed to shrink from him. She was such a beauty—golden hair, and eyes, sir, just like the sky on a clear day, such a deep, clear blue, while her complexion the village girls used to call roses and lilies. I’ve heard it said that a great portrait painter came down to paint her face, and showed it in London as the greatest beauty he had seen anywhere. “Mrs. Linwood, sir, the servants could all see was very anxious about Mr. George. She’d mur mur to herself for hours about him, and she was always looking at him and Dora so wistful like, as if she didn’t dare to say what was on her tongue. So things went on, till one day a company of sol diers marched into the village. The officer in command was invited by Mr. Linwood to dine, and he did so, but he didu’t see Mrs. Linwood nor Miss Dora, for they were both in with colds, and they stayed up stairs. The officer was a handsome young man, with keen gray eyes and a quiet man ner, and a look of real honesty about him, sir. Mr. Linwood asked him to come when he could get leave and shoot. “Well, by and by he came—Captain Calton was his name, and he wore the Water oo medal, for he had been in the heat of that; and he came in late one night after dressing, into the drawing room. There were Mrs. Linwood and Miss Dora. The Squire introduced him ; when suddenly the captain grew very agitated and Miss Dora gave a little shriek, and then looked so charming that half an eye might see, Polly, my wife said, where her heart was. “The ’Squire didn't see this, and fortunately too, for only the day before he’d asked Miss Dora to marry him, and she, crying bitterly, had refused. “The ’Squire went off wild duck shooting with me, but he laid his gun down in the punt, and kept staring sternly in the air, and muttering to himself. You may guess, sir, that I held my tongue. “Well, sir, at dinner nothing much was said, for Capton Calton seemed very silent, and so did Miss Dora. The’Squire drank a good deal, and talked about the shooting, but nowand then looked at his cousin with such a wild eager look that made her blush like a rose whenever he caught her eye. “After dinner, when Polly »as putting some em broidery away in the cabinet at the end of the drawing room, she heard Miss Dora tell Mrs. Liu wood enough to find out that Captain Calton wss her old lover whom she had met at Bath with her parents, and that they were to be married when he got rich enough. Polly could not help hearing it, sir ; all women are curious about lovers,” con tinued the old man, smiling; “but she loved Miss Dora with all her beart, and woudn’t have said a word about it for the world. “Several days went on, and the ’Squire and the Captain went out shooting, and Dick Smith, the headkeeper, used to go with them. ‘•One day Miss Dora came down in the little pony carriage with the luncheon. The Squire was just finishing the beat of a copse, but Captain Cal ton was outside. When Miss Dora came up he took her hand and kissed it. But I saw it, though I wasn’t such a booby as to show myself. What was worst, sir, the Squire saw it through the hazel bushes, and her pretty face blushing and looking happy. “I heard him grind his teeth where I stood, and whisper a curse. Did you ever hear one whispered, sir ? It makes a man creep all over. "Presently lie came out with a very jolly air, anu alter lunch he drunk Miss Dora s health and then the Captain’s. 1 was carrying the bag, and the Squire spoke in a bluff sort of a wav. so 1 heard all: , ‘My cousin is a pretty girl,’ said he. Yes, said Captain Gallon, nervously like, and I cou and see his baud tremble. Ah, well,’ said the Squire, heartily, ‘I used to be jealous; fori always admired Dora, that I did. But what's the use now J Never mind, old I tallow, 1 wish you joy of her ; you must excuse j my temper, it’s a devilish bad one ’ That was truer than he thought,” muttered the old m-tti in usi’igh "Captain Caltou answered hnu in a very friendly way, and the matter seemed all right. ‘The Squire was in a dreadful temper tiie nex morning with Dick at and me because we hadn’t killed some stray dogs that had been driving the woods. “He was very savage against poachers, and swore lie and have the spring-guns set for their dogs in the open runs of the copses. “So matters went ou till just about Christmas, when a large party of ilie neighbors of the Squire came over to shoot under the pheasant covers. “That day we had no peace. All the spring guns were taken up; damaged raisins put in tiie runs to toll the pheasants there, and tiie woods were watched every night. On the night before we met the Squire, who gave us a curse or two tor ruuning against him as he came round the copse. He’d beeu looking alter the raisius, he said, for he was a good hand at seeing his orders carried out. “The next day all the party went from the Hall to the woods, only the Captain; lie loitered to have ' few words with Miss Dora Hi- drew her fcncU into the hall and kissed her; aud I shall never forgot the way she his hands and looked into his eves, saying a word urjwo. Tiie Squire saw iu and I saw his face. It was dreadful to see, for lie had bitten his lower lip in two. He pre tended not to see them, and walked on alter the party. “The Squire was very particular iu his shootiug partios about every one going just as iio wanted fcthem to. So now he gave every body their instruc tion wiiere to go. And Captain Caltou he told to take a ride, which was narrow and through hollies, but a good one for woodcocks. Ho himself went into tiie middle of tin* copse, with me, aud Dick Smith beaded tiie beaters at the end. “Well, sir, the beating began, and the pheasants got up well, and there were several shots fired. ’Twas odd to me that tiie Squire never shot at any thing, though, for all that, several birds went by him. I didn’t dare to speak, though, for he look ed so stern. “By and by he turned and saw Captain Calton in another part. He swore, but that 1 took no notice of. •“We’ll beat this wood again before lunch,’ lie said; so of course we all came out after an hour or two, during which the Squire missed everythiug. We all went back to the wood again.” Here the old keeper paused, and drew a deep breath. ‘What's coming, sir?’’ ho said, “has never been out of my mind siuce, day or night, tor fifty years, I assure you. ‘Wo came back to tiie copse, and were all put in our old position, and the Squire told the Captain to take the holly ride again. “‘I suppose Dora will be here soon with tiie luncheon,’ he said with a laugh. “ ‘Soon enough—soon enough, said the Squire, with a dreadful sort of laugh, and his black eyes gleaming like coals. “The shooting went on, and suddenly a shot , sounded from near the holly ride. “ What’s that?' said the Squire, suddenly. “ ‘Captain shota cock, sir, outside the copse,’ and Dick Smith, quietly winking at me, knew how savage the Squire was at men changing positions. “• ‘Here comes Miss Dors,’ said I, ‘she's going through the holly ride.’ “ What,’ screamed the Squire, as ho wheeled round and saw her. ‘Dora! Dora I not there! Back! for heaven’s sake, back!' “But she didn’t hear him, lor tho spaniels were in full cry, and the beaters’ voices drowned the Squire’s. *• ‘Dora!’ lie screamed, sir—yes, that’s the word —‘stop ? You’re , “Before lie got the word out thero was a little report like a pistol—a wreath of blue smoko curl ed upward from Miss Maitland’s feet, and she fell —fed. with her pretty white dress all streaked on the bosom with blood. “Ah, sir,” said the old man, shuddering, “it makes my heart cold even to think of it. “I ran up and lifted her; she moaned once when we raised her. Her sweet face was all white and pinched with pain. his breast; and hid ner poor ncau .. was a tired chi and. “The surgeon of the village was out with us. He came up sir, as wo stood round rough fellows as we wore, all sobbing ; he knelt down and looked at the wound, aud then, sir, shook his head. “Meanwhile the ’iSquiie was being held by two men, cursing, swearing, and tearing the grass, and cursing himself aud his birth, and calling on somebody to blow his brains out, aud they dragged him into the bushes so as not to be heard by the. dying girl. •‘She looked up at her lover once, and her sweet blue eyes were all dim. Do you know the glaz ing, filmy look that creeps over one dying from gunshot wounds? Ah, it is enougli to break one’s heart. “She caught her breath several times. Her lover kept his handkerchief over the wound, but it did’ut bloed much outwardly; only you could see her going; and she looked so beautiful, just like a wax mask, sir, white as a lily.” “‘Poor, poor Freddy 1’ she murmured, and put her little hand on his heart. “-My darling!’ lie said, and then he gave such a sob that seemed to tear bis very heart up, sir. “ ‘Kiss me, my own,' site saidas her beautiful, dimming eyes, witli their last look of love, were turned to his. ‘I can’t see—its all dark, but Tin on your bosom, Freddy, dear —on your bosom— love.” “These words she murmured one by on ; and then she gave a long sigh; and it was all over. “He took her up, sir, with such an awful look of grief on his face that he seemed turned to stone. He’d let no one touch her, and lie carried her iu his arms home. “ ‘She said she was on my bosom,’ he said, in a voice that you wouldn't have known for liis; and then he walked on like a man in some dream. ‘•sVell, sir, there is no more to toll. The Squire only lived two years, aud died in a mad house. “He had set a spring gun in the ride, meaning it for the Captain. As lor the Captain, be went to tbe East Indies, I heard, aud died. That’s my story, sir.” —Once a Week. [From the Lynchburg Virginian. J MBH. BASIL YVILLIAMBO.V Death of a Venerable Virginia Matron—lntereHtlng KeminUeencea. The death of Mrs. Basil Williamson is announced in the Charlestown, Jefferson county, papers. She died in Tyler county, at the advanced age of eighty-nine years. In our early youth we often heard of her in her ‘’dear Jefferson county” and ours, but supposed that she had long since gone to that “bourne whence no traveler re turns ” The Charlestown Free Frees, speaking of her decease, says : This estimable lady is favorably and affectionately remembered by many citi zens of this and neighboring counties. She was present at the christening of her “dear Jefferson county,” as she always called it a notice of which event is found in Henning’s Justice: The commissioners met at the house of Basil Williamson, and adopted the name of the new county to be Jefferson, etc., (in 1810, we believe.) Mrs. Williamson was one of the first settlers at Harper’s Ferry, after the death of her great uncle, Robert Harper, the earliest proprietor, who purchased the laud from Lord Fairfax, the Baron Came ron. She was a coternporary of the prom inent persons of the lower valiey : General Drake, Robert Rutherford, (both members «>f Congress), Charles Yates, Gershom Keyes, Johu Kearsley, the Dandridges, Hunters, Pendletons, Davenports, Wash ingtons, Humphreys, McCormicks, Sin clairs, Baylors, Larues, Lees, Slaughters, etc. In eariy days she advised her sons and other young friend* how they could make themselves a name, by pointing to the career of three lads who left Jefferson (then Berkeley) to settle among the wild Indians of the Northwestern Territory. She said : “We were feasting and dancing at the neighbors’ houses for a week before these young men started, and when they bade us farewell there was not a dry eye, as we never expected to see them again, thinking the Indians would slay them at sight.” The names of these young men have a place in history: Thomas Wor thington, Edward Tiffin and Robert Lucas, eacli of whom became Governor of Ohio, and three of the counties of that State bear their names. [Berkeley county also furnished a Governor for Missouri In the person of John Miller.] Mrs. Williamson was a signer to the deed to General Washington for the Har per’s Ferry property fora national armory —a spot selected by himself, and one which, for that very reason, as well as for its eligibility,should be held for that pur pose only. The reminiscences of thjs venerable lady VOL. IX, NO ;jii entertained many fireside a.semblu't. of young and old. Her memorv will I.T-■ —i . cherished with affection. t»l T or- THK sTHKi: t - [From the Banner of the South. Out id the Streets comes the wail o: u misery and heart desolation. Oat i- • . the roads, out into the forests, and , ■ j„. to the meadows, there is peace i and happiness. Out there animat, d' .00 1 11 re sends up its thousand t,. : ~|~r . - to Heaven and blesses the WOi j,| w U h it. music, its fruits aud it. How. . n,u u „; of the Streets comes that wuii nf.,, m >w that sound of revelry, tli.u . ,1 h, ut breaking misery Out of the-t --the mansions,'into the gnu city wi h its teaming populations, its grand palace. its mighty wealth, theie is sin, and row. and shame, and povert v aud wr 1 - ling, and revelry, and silent'weeping ■ , iiidden wrongs: and the world km.a . :t . not—the world sees it not. llut it is and heard beyond the clouds, beyond ih skii*s, beyond the stars, and its record . . there. Out of the Streets into the busy otli. • the wealthy merchant com. . a Huh I. 1 gar girl. Rags are her clothing, shoes .he has none, dishevelled is her hair. Her poor mother lies helpless, prostt aleon a t.ed of sickness; and the little wanderer -k-. but a pittance to give that p or moth. 1 and the starving sisters and brother, a morsel of bread to keep body aud ...id 1, gether. Uti : n.u iu.e e piu r : , ... silver, ami l.ank notes are not f..r.. ,»i, women and children ; and so, with 1 >:> words and threatening gestures, the nn happy child goes out into the Street again to tiring to her squalid home rehut!' curses and tears. Aud out of the Slice come the praises of the geuerous uierchun whose charities till the paper, m 1 whose popularity is only hounded by hi. wealth. The tears and the curses go out of the Streets together, aud are record. 1 in the Book of Judgment. Out of the Streets comes the sound of wrangling, ami men gather together t\i 1 by stroug drink; and tvltli oaths, a; . ( shouts, aud blasphemies, make the niglu hideous ; while the pistol, the bowie knife or the dagger, sends its victim to his last’ account. And the oaths, and the shout ami the blasphemies, and the lost soul out of the Streets together, and are for .rot ten here—but not up there. Out of the Streets comes a moan of an guish, from some woman’s voice. On. e she was fair aud innocent—the and olin ' .. her parents—“the angel of the household ’ Once she was theobjeclof atleclioti. “ The old, old story is told again ;” and, debased ruined, wretched, the unhappy creature' now despised, put aside, buffeted about,' feels her deep, deep woe, and sends up on e moan of dreadful anguish ; while the dc stroyer passes his victim, without a pang of remorse, no thought of sorrow, no won) of sympathy. The destroyer and the vi tim shall stand together, some day, and out of the Streets that moan of anguish shall plead for justice. Out of the Streets, up from ttie haunts of vice, comes the sound of revelry ; and debased men and abandoned women join together in the lewd dance, the ribald song, the rude jest ; or, over the “ flowing bowl” sits aud sips the maudlin inebriate, whose poor, neglected wife cower over the scattered embers, by her midnigh l lamp, while her starved and half-naked little ones lie shivering beneath the scan ty coverlid, trying to sleep away th thoughts of want which crowd their little brains; ami he drinks, and they starve, aud she groans and pray, for help. Vnd’ that sound of revelry, that groan, the • prayers, mingle together, and are no; heard here ; but out of the Streets, above the midnight sky, they will be separah and they will be heard. Out of the Streets, into the mighty mansions of the great, there is strife aud dissension, and family griefs. The wo.! , looks on the beautiful edifice, and the world envies its inmates. But the world knows not its history, its mystery —it. hidden wrongs and its silent weepine but beyond the stars, beyond the ken o human vision, they are known and hear,: 111 & b LII.OV/ uo - „ ness, revelry, wrong, oppression. ai 1 vice; as out of the roads, out if tin forests, out of the fields, will go up tin sounds of joy, of peace, and of gludnes-i and they shall be seen and judged. And seen and judged, the wicked sbuil to umlo ami the just rejoice. So let us live, then, reader, Ui v hen we go up out of the Streets of If, ~ it shall he to the Streets of Eternal (Hot . , from the Mansions of Earth to tin- Man sions of Eternal Mercy, from thoC tic of Earth to the City of Eternal Bliss. It n our power, our work, our duty Fail not Falter not. Fear not, and away up out of the Streets we will have our reward, our triumph, and our glory. Curkkncv. —During the first year of the war, when change was scarce, and some large merchants were issuing cur rency of their own, a fanner wem to t store in a neighboring town, nought some goods and gave the merchant a five dollar bill, of which he wanted seventy five cents buck. The merchant counted out the amount and handed it over to the farmer. He looked at it a moment, and inquired: “What’s this?” “It’s my currency,” said the merchant. “Wal, ’tain’t good for nothin’where live said the farmer. “Very well,” replied the merchant, “keep it until you get a dollar’s worth, and bring it to my store, and I will giv. yon a dollar for it.” The farmer pocketed the change un i departed. A few weeksifter he w.-nt in’o the same store and bought goods to the amount of one dollar, and after payin ' over the identical seventy-five cents, h took out a handful of pumpkin seed--, counted twenty-five of them, and pas < 1 them to the merchant. “Why,” said the merchant, “what i this?” “Wal,” said the farmer, “this is my currency, and when you get a dollar's worth bring it to mv place and I will give you a dollar for it.” Freak* of a W hirlwind—A Brlrk Chur: h Destroy , and Yesterday morning, about 9 o’clock, a little brick church on the Hardin pike, about eleven miles from the city, and sit uated on a point where the road runs l • tween two lofty hills, was literally blown away, only about four feet of the walls be ing left standing. The wind had been pretty stormy all the morning, and many trees had been blown down on the sur rounding hills, but at the hour above named a gust of wind swept along the road, catching up in its sweeping progre every detached object in the way, and whirling them round as if they were a horizontal cylinder; fence rails, branches of trees, hunks of earlh, and even store were hurled around l>y terial anger as i; came along with irresistible force and in conceivable rapidity. It struck the church about four feet above the ground, rop- 1 ofT the bricks aud mortar, and swept tin whole upper part away quite clean. A few bricks were dropped along the road for two or three hundred yards, but the main portion was taken nearly half a mile to where the road opened out on a wid ; stretch of comparatively flat country, and there dropped in the bed of a creek with the roof still firmly attached lo the walls. Two cows that had been to leeward of Un building while it was yet standing were knocked about twenty yards away into a hollow. They seemed considerably stupe fied, but otherwise sustained no dam-ug -. tW District Attorney Carrington w received no better at the barbecue at I restville, Maryland, than was General Kilpatrick in Butler’s district. The p. pie of Prince George’s county feel the i justice of the vindictive prosecution o' John Surratt by the United Sat , - 1 when District Attorney Carrington a- • to make his after-dinner speech ! > ’? • handful of Radicals present, he was;"' ed with cries of, Surratt ! Surratt D -m the crowd. — E., in Baltimore 6 ' Suspension op Grain Horst -j of the New York papers meritin’* r-.-v- , suspensions of houses eugag-d **i th>- - ’ trade, owing to the heavy r.-c.ine c breadstuff's. The World s • . ‘ will fall chiefly on operators m tne net, as the New York firms have >ee, r ally cautious aud prtideu . - * “ t ‘ Thomas Griffin & Co-, of New \o k, Daniel Newbail. of Milwaukee ; Helmer & Cos., Milwaukee, and Helrnen, of Buf falo.”