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VOL. v ft ML m EWS& FARMER BY | RUBE TS &• BOYD. ■Lh'.-i/uv/ every Thursday Morning P ILL T. U TO II HI A. TTir':/.-. 'P*' • i 'l'J r^k-noN IN ADVANCE. villi- j 00 W MX....... II.H •i Int-e montlis .... i'll i o. a Club i'i 1- i Vl. or mure w wi I make a rtduciioii ot '&> iiei.oeiu ad t r.Kl'lrtlAU Rblc-i fraiment UoeriiseineiiU, One dollar p .qua e (leu line- u. Una l>,P f u >‘ “.eh) bo she lira., mseru.m aud 7u eei.tß .or ear-. souse. I A.1...... ...su.no.. A übeia. uedueinm made o vertiaeme.ua r..umli< over one i.mi.U.. ■f ....cal i.ouees will he chained l-.tteeu etula Fl;er line end* 'iuu. , P LV All bills t*n bdverusing 4 ul ‘ an .V tune l nlit: lie lirst n eruon umi will be presented * Ai tile pleasure 'll tue I'ropneioi', cXCu P* *0 special arrangement .... ~. , i.v*KM a-. A iVhiUI.'SXNu "ordinary*# Citations lor Loiters t Adiuiiustra iii.ii, Guardianship Ac 'U cation .or tli. in 11 iruui dm " Wl itome-icHi notice Application tor ••ishi’u uoiii guard u o UU Ainnn ation tor leave lo sell land *> 01' t \ otic.* to Ueutois and creditors. 4UU k -*aies o. L nd, />'• square oi leu lines UU I oi persona, pei sqr ten u a> 5? E '•/itriU's —r.ach Iwvjf ot leuUntts, sun Minima ui-8,.1r:.0/ uu Lines or less “U i u.\ Cofiecto* s alV*, per sqr., triomuslO IK) i'nrk's —Loiectosuro ol mortgage and +■ wtner inonMn>’s pei squaie 4UU K'li’a. no-levs iliin> da. b Ut v tfc./IUAIi UAILUOaU. ON and idler SUNDAY the iUili .him-, .1. i a*aengoi ti*dis u tile ueo £' C imai luiiMiiU, its brandies and co“.. • t>-.n* wii r.a as o 1 loves * Leave 'awinali 9.15 a m * Loave Augusta Hu'b pin An ve in Augusta LOO p m Arrive in Macon ti:4-> p m •I - Leave vlacon tor Colu nbus M :IS p m Leave Macon tor Lufaula.-.- y:l0;i ni Macon for Atlanta 9:15 m at Columbus 1:45 a m at Knlaula * ~ p in Arrive at A lanta. 5:0*2 u n, Lea v Atlanta lU:4o p m liAve Kiif.iula b;*2*2 a m Leave (Joiilmbtia 1‘.50 p ir. Airive at. vlacon from Atlanta 0.40 p m rrtve at Macon from KutauU 5: 1 5 p m Arrive at Macon from Columbus p m Lea e Macon 7:00 a m Arrive at Augusta 4:Un p m* Arnveat "avamiah - 5:45pm > Connect* daily at Gordon with Pasnonge.i ai.is to and from Savamiati and Augusta. -a'arUß. ii. L- G..M13 * . 4 li| " ATTORN It V AT I.A'A. rhlUll.OjitlC, cGu. o y J. u. UHIU. J. ■l. 1 Olili.l LAIN A: POLIIILL. ii u u NeVS a I L \ *' 2LOUISVILL. (ii. MayS, 1 r7l. • G DR. E- E PAUSO :S r ■ F T' T T S f Louisville, na. 'Vi 1 ho in Lousville th t'irl week in end* month left at the Central Hotel promptly attended to. l> 44 ly. fh. F DURHAM, M- D. i • Thy Ician and 'irs (in . Sp*,pta, SUCCESSFULLY treats Diseases f the and I hroiit, diseases of tho Eye, and Ear, and all tin ms oi lhopse> ; dt>- <aseH of lo Heart Kidneys* HI adder ami tStric hire, secret diseases, lon# standing Ulcers.— Removes licmoirlu idal Tiitnuis wiuiout pain Mai\s ape iality ot diseases peculiar to Ue ttia es >ledu-ino* sent o any point on the Railroad. Ail eor>espuitdeiiCe couliUeunal. Fobj J 5, ly HOTELS, HOTEL, LOUISVILLE GA. Mrs A, M. Kirkland, Proprii tress. Board, $2.00 Per Day. Lamar H®asr, Mulberry Street, MACON UjIORCIA B. BUBj, Proprietor Fcei Uu Ibas front ail ta tin t)e?i . jottrS. [original.] MEMORIAL DAY. . -F ’Tis over ! and an incense, Upward rises toward the gates, Of tlie celestial sphere, The incense of holy gifts, And the offering of grateful iiearts. Embalmed by memory’s gentle tear. 'Tis over! and angel 9 smile At deeds that need no praise, Hot the sweet reward they bring— The consciousness of having given Unfading souvenirs awav, pl'hc heart’s lost cause offering. 'Tis over ! Tiie flowers may lade That fair hands placed On the mounds of onr treasured dead, Where they sleep the sleep That to the brave is given, Wrapped in glory in their gory bed. 'Tis over 1 The voice of the speaker May die on the tranquil air As he lauds their valorous deeds, And the tear drop that falls On an unknown grave Will evanish as the sunlight recedes. ’Tis over 1 The grave knows its own, Though the mother and wife Cannot tell where their loved ones lie, They live >n their hearts. The day is kept there. Such memo, ies can never die. Tis over 1 The blast of the bugle And the clash of steel. Disturbs not their valiant repose, And perchance a hero lies Where love cannot place Her wreatiies of mirtle and lose. Tis over 1 the day is gone— The music has died away ; The flowers have lost their sweet per fume. But memory holds her treasures yet And music lives within the heart— An i flowers that ever bloom. * WE CoTill ~AXD GO. If you or I To-dav should die, The birds would sing as sweet to-mor row ; The vernal spring Iler flowers would bring And few would think of us with sorrow. Yes, he is dead Would then be said ; The corn would floss, ihe grass yield hay, The cattle low, And the summer go. And few would iieed us pass away. How soon we pass? liow few, alas 1 Remember tnose who turn to mould! Whose faces fade With autumn’s shade, Beneath the sodded churchyard cold ! • Y'et, it is so— , We come, we go— They hail our Iji-tli, they mourn us dead ; A day or more The winter o’er, Another takes onr place instea 1. Tlilh WisO.\(ji n *i\. A Hairbreadth Escape. In the year 1841, the now flourishing city ol Steubenville. Ohio, was a very small place. Its population was noted for its quiet and orderly character, and there was not a single liquor saloon <n the place. Crime was very rare, and the circuit judges often had occasion to congratu late the people upon not having a sin gle criminal case upon tiieir calender. In ecu sequence there was intense excitement in Steubenville, when, at an early hour in the morning of the sev enteenth of November, in the above mentioned year, the report reached the place tiiat the corpse of a man had been found in the woods within a hundred yards of the ’ast house of the town, and clo e to the Pittsburg turnpike, with every indication tiiat an atrocious mur der had been committed. The Sheriff, accompanied by some fifty citizens, immediately hastened to the spot indi cated to him by the person who had discovered the remains of the murder ed man. Tiiat person was a decrepit old woman who had gone ou. to' gather brushwood. No one would have sus pected her, under any circumstances, of having had anything to do with the bloody deed, and, besides, she mani fested such unfeigned horror in de scribing what she had seen at the dis mal spot n the woods, that she was un hesitatingly allowed to go about her business. Upcui arriving at the scene of the supposed murder, the sheriff and his companions saw at a glance that a ter rible crime had been committed. The dead man was covered all over with frozen gore and seven wounds, appa rently inflicted with a sharp knife were upon the body. His head was still covered with a nice felt hat. His face presented a most hideous and ghastly aspect. A terrible gash extended from the left temple to the right jaw. Another gash was in the forohead. The victim was dressed in a substantial fur coat. THE NEWS AND FARMER. • t mm ! LOUISVILI4 JEFFERSON COUNTY. GA.. MAY 4, 1876. IHe was apparently about forty-t' years old. Whep his pockets were examin. they, were found to be entirely empt. But close to the body was found old-fashioned wallet. It wa3 still ope. as if its contents had been taken fro it, and as if he who had opened it lia afterwards thrown it away. At a distance of about ten yard from tho corpse "ear an old log, lay i. peculiarly suape.. fur cap. It could no. have belonged to the murdered man, for, as we-have said before, be had hi. hat on his head. The ground was covered with snow and there were a number of foot-prints in it; These were the only indieation.- of tho perpetrator -of the horr,..le crime. '• Tue coroner'v tis scot for, and until his arrival, tiie sheriff and his conipan tons went to the Ohio tavern, widen was situated at no great distance from tue scene ot the murder. When tue sheriff told the landlord of the murder, aud described to him tue appearance of t :e corpse, the landlord exclaimed at once: ‘Great God 1 that poor fellow cannot be anybody else than Mr. Sam mis, the Pittsburgh cattle dealer, ile was here last night and took supper with another man from Pittsburgh, vvnose name was Belson or Wilson and who rode on to wards Pittsburgh immediately after he had left the table. Mr. Sammis sat in tue front room with me and Jack Capon for an hour, when the two went out to getlier.” Jack Capon was a dissolute but very good-natured fellow, about thirty years old, who had a decided aversion to any kind of work, and a still more decided predilection for strong drink. He could not get any whiskey at Steubenville, and lienee he often walk ed for miles and miles in order to ob tain a “wee drop” of whrskey. When he was successful, he returned with his hat lull of bricks to Steubenville, where lie had frequently been punished by the "squire” for intoxication, with tine and imprisonment. Still, everybody liked him because he had an excellent, uu selfisii heart, and never forgot a favor done him. ‘What sort of a hat did Capon wear last night?' asked the sheriff. ‘\Y by, no bat. but a fur cap—made of beaver skin—with two ear covers ’ •Was this the cap?' asked the sheriff, pi o dicing the fur cap which he had found near the corpse of the murdered man, and which he had thus far been holding under his cloak. •Yes,’ exclaimed the landlord, ‘that is Capons cap, and no mistake; wnere did you find it?’ ihe sheriff told him. Everybody was horror-struck at the idua that poor Jack Capon should have commit ted so atrocious a crime. Men were immediately dispatched to hunt up Jack Capon. They did not find him at his wonted haunts in Steub enville ; but a man who was well ac quainted with his habits, said if be could be found anywhere, it would be at the cabin of old Bim Brooks. Brooks lived in the woods on thff Pittsburgh side of Steubenville, about one mile from the point "here tiie body of Mr. Sammis had been found. Like Jack Capon, old Brooks was fond of w.iiskey, and the two would frequently drink together until they were utterly oblivious of the cares and sorrows of this world, which, as they thought, had not treated either < f them too well So to Brook's cabin went the man. Thcv knocked at the front door, which was locked. For several minutes there was no response. Al last, olci Brooks himself opened tho door. • They saw at a glance that he was in an alarming stale of intoxication. T= Jack Capon here V they asked. ‘Ye-ye-yes,’ hiccoughed Brooks; ‘he is lying asleep yonder, behind the old stove.’ Then the drunken old fellow went back to iiis lounge, and a minute later he was fast asleep again. The men stepped up to Capon, lie was drunk also. liis eoat and shirt was covered with blood. They exchanged signifi cant glances, and aroused him, though not without considerable difficulty. ‘What do j ou want?’ he asked yawn ing. “The sheriff wants you, Jack,’ ‘The sheriff! What for? I kain’t done nothing.’ ‘You are suspected of having mur dered a Mr Sammis, of Pittsburgh.’ Go away ! I murdered a Mr. Sammis? You must be loony.’ ‘Look at yourself.’ Capon looked at his clothes. The sight of the bloody stains on them caused him to sober up at once. ‘How did I get these stains on my coat and shirt?’ he stammered out at last. ‘Don't you know anything about them?’ they asked. ‘No—no ! Y’ou say murder was com mitted?’ ‘Come—come. Jack Capon,’ they re plied, ‘you can’t fool anybody here by pleading ignorance. What did you do with your cap?’ He looked about the roo n. ‘Someone must have taken it away,’ lie said, at last. ‘You left it near the corpse of tiie murdered man.’ ‘Was it found there? Groat God— great God!’ lie buried his face in his hands and I began to cry. Then he followed the men—wiio also took Sim Brooks along—willingly, to the Ohio tavern, where the coroner had -anwbile arrived. Tb| sheriff appear aoon at'tei ward with Some men who we carrying the gory, frozen corpse of e victim. Jack Caputf was coiulnoted i the corpse. As he cyjnght sight of it, e recooed in horror. | ‘its Mr. Sammis.’' le gasped out. Poor Sammis. who hasipnirdered him?’ •You were the last se|n in his com any,’said the sheriff’i|*your cap was ouud near the corpse fcd your clothes u-e blood-stained; wkmmt you can be, ,ue murderer?’ ‘I am innocent 1’ cnld Capon despe- 1 ately. ‘I got light at I&uoks'. I don’t know how I got thiilblood on my clothes, nor how my cam got near the corpse. I have eveujfD' gotten that 1 was with this poor gentleman.’ The coroner impahele’d a jury, and m the first place, took tiiom to tue spot in tne woo ls where tho murder had beeu committed. Jack C upon, who had ueeu, meanwhile, heaviiy ironed, was also conveyed thither. The footprints near the point where the corpse of the murdered man hud lam were not very distinct, but they seemed to cor respond exactly with the soles of Jack Capon’s shoes. Returning to the Ohio tavern, the coroner swore Sim Brooks, who, by this time, had become perf ctly sober, and who staled tuat last night, about half past ten o’clock, Jack Capon had come to his cabin and asked him if he had any whiskey, lie had given him halt a dozen drinks, whereupon Capon had wanted still more, but he had no more. Capon had then showed him a ten dol iar gold piece, aud asked him if he knew wile re any whiskey could be bought. He had answered that if he would go to Alike Terry's, lie might get some. There Capon hid gone, and returned with whiskey, but without his cap, and with his shirt and the front part of his clothes all bloody. Brooks added tuat lie had asked Ca pon how he got tho blood or him. Ca pon was so drunk that he could not give a very intelligible account of what had happened to him, but lie said some thing about having had a fall and hurt himself. Upon hearing this evidence, the prisoner exclaimed : •Yes—yes, that is true—l do remem ber it now. I made a shoit cut through the woods to Mike Ferry’s house, got the whiskey, and returned by pretty much tiie same route when I stumbled over sometning. and fell.’ Tiie jury rendered a verdict against him, and he was committed for trial His pockets were then examined, and tiie ten dollar gold piece, which Sim Brooks had mentioned, was found. Capon said that Sammis, who had ta ken an interest in him, hail given it to him. This was considered a flimsy falsehood, and everybody was convinc ed that Jack Capon was guilty. A messenger, with the news o-f Mr. Sammis’ murder, was ditpatched to Pittsburgh, where it created profound sensation. It tursed out that the mur dered man had nearly s'o,ooo m large bank bills on his person. Sammis’ ' brother .Mark, a wholesale grocer, and a very energetic man, accompanied tiie messenger back to Steubenville, and engaged special counsel to assist him j in the prosecution of Capon. Tiie latter | : was tried, and convicted, but the jury j having to fix Ids punishment, he was not sentenced to death, but to impris-1 jonment at hard labor for life. J The prisoner was overwhelmed with grief because of his conviction. He never tired of protesting iiis innocence, and his eyes were constantly red and swolen from weeping.-• lie was taken to the penitentiary at Columbus, where he was at first harshly treated; but lus amiable disposition was not long in making so agreeable an impression upon the keepers, that inaiiy privileges were granted to him. These he never abused ; on tiie contrary, he proved an efficient assistant to the prison authori ties on more than one occasion, so that tney wondered how this good-natured man could have been capable of com mitted so heinous a crime. Five ‘’ears passed by, when an event occurred which proved beyond a doubt tiiat Capon was, afier all, an entirely innocent man. A cotton broker, named Wilson, at Savannah, Ga., had long been on bad terms witli his wife. Finally, he charged tier with adultery, and sued for a di vorce. The wile thereupon accused him of having murdered a man on the 16th of November, 1841, on the day after leaving Pittsburgh, Pa., and of having robbed bis victim of $20,900 in SSOO and sl,oflo bank bills. Siic said that she had to wash on the next day, when lie had unexpectedly returned to Pittsburgh, her husband’s shirt, wii.cli had been blood-stained, and she charged him witli having killed somebody. Ho hod confessed to her what he had done, and ttiey had left Pittsburgh together afl'ew days later and 1 gone Soutii. ! Wilson was arrested, and authorities ; at Steubenville were at once communi cated with. The sheriff who had arrest ed Capon, and who was still in office, I came personally to Savannah, with a 1 requisition from the Governor ol Ohio, i When he had h.s first interview with Wilson, the latter, who was terrified beyond measure by tiie prospect of tiie scaffold, asked him whether a full con fession would save him. , ‘lf you are guilty, it will be, maybe, the only th ng that will save your life,' replied the sheriff. Thereupon, Wilson made a clean breast of it. He said he had waylaid Sammis, who had left his horse at a r house three miles from Steubenville, and had attacked him with a knife. | Nainmis had offered the moss desperate 1 resistance, ana had compelled Inin to stab him often before lie succumbed, When the sheriff arrived witu his prisoner at Steubenville, tho exasper ated people could be barely prevented from lynching Wilson. Tne Governor of the State, upon re cuvmg a certified copy of W ilsoa’s con 1 fession, innnediat -ly griTuted a full pardon to Capo.i, to wnotn the Legis-| lature. which happened to be in session at Columbus at tne time, voted the sum of §,OOO to idemnify him for the suffer ings he had innocently itu iergoue. It is needless to try to describe Ca- i pons joy at this unexpected change in I his fortunes. Her turned to Steuben ville, where tiie people received huu amid manifestations of unfeigned joy. At the next term of the circuit court, Wilson was sentenced to be hung, the court saying that tue enormity of Ins crime had been augmented by his suf fering an innocent man to be punished for it j Capon gave proof of genuine magna-: ninety by going to Columbus and ask- j iug tiie Governor to spare Wilson’s life; but the Governor refused to interfere, bo Wilson was hung at Steubenville, ‘ on the 4th of January, 1847. A PICTLUE. Let me faintly draw a picture—a reality: | An individual who had long been the j slave of alcohol, attends tiie meeting of i a total abstinence society. He listens! patiently’ and attentively to the argu- j incut of t.e speaker. He yields, by | necessity, to tiie truthful detail of tiie j e.viis of intemperance, for he lias often personally experienced them. He re-! spouds fully to tiie declaration that i there is no safety for him in attempting i to use in moderati n. his cruel bever- j nge ; he looks to the past, surveys tho present, the misfortunes and evils of his course, the tears of his wife, the terror of his children, tiie waste of his proper Sy ; tiie injury of his health and tue loss of iiis reputation, all rise up before him in startling characters. That moment he resolves to cuter upon anew course. Hope beams upon his soul, anticipations of a happy future float in dreamy aud exstatio visions before,him. Health and happiness, honor and reputation, success in iiis schemes, domestic felicity the smiles of iiis companion, the cheer ful prattle and joyous eiastibility of Ins children, are conjured up before him in forms of bliss and love and beauty, as he suddenly resolves to-fly to tiie ark of safety, and seek security and-repose in a strict adherance to total abstinence from the hateful enemy of iiis former peace. His name is regis tered on the books of a temperance so ciety. The Rubicon is passed. His friends may laugh, the intemperate may jeer him, but his course is marked out, and his determination fixed to follow it. His wife is surprised to see him return home so early that evening, and sober too. The loud oath is unheard, the reel ing upon the horse, the tottering step is unseen. The face so often swollen witli rage and tiie effects of drink, is calm, and suffused with a placid smile. Tiie hand of former threat, perhaps, un manly violence, is extended to greet the wife of his bosom ; his children are caressed and fondled upon his knee and are happy’ in the enjoyment of the delicacies winch lie brought them Ills words are kind, his voice soft, his man ners bland, and all around him a scene of unusual and unexpected serenity presents itself to the astonished gaze of liis wife. Joy an i fear, gladness and trembling, are commingled in her heart, as she spreads tier board and ministers to tiie comfort of her household, That night the wife pray s that this sudden felicity may continue. It is passed and the morning comes. The sun on tiiat day shines more brightly than it used to do, the air is more balmy, the birds sing more sweetly'. Tiie husband takas no morning dram. Week after week, month after mouth rolls off’, and the scene remains unchanged. Happiness hovers within and around this habitation and its inmates. The children are nurtured with care, their morals are protected, their minds un folded and enriched with tiie blessings of education. How joyful the spirit of t ie mother as she beholds them with rapture, and attends them with untir ing fondness, contrasted with the de pressions and afflictions of the past. The father no longer bends under the oppressions ol chagrin, self-confusion and self-disrespect, reputation and res pectability’ is his gain, liis labors are crowned witli success, iiis prospects bright and cheering. Ceres walks amidst his field and the blessings of Heaven rest upon his head. This hap py change was the work ot a To al Abstinence Society, and its praise was over u[ on the lips of the devoted wife and mother. M. “Mils' brace up,” said Sozzle, as he s.ood on tiie door step at 1 a. m. “It'll never do to let ol' lady ’speot anything;” and, ns Mrs. S. descended the stairs, clad in her robecle unit, Suz zio braced up, knocked the ashes off his cigar, and, as the door opened, said cheerily, “Hullo, M'ria, (hie) up yet? Got a match in yer pocket?” Of course she did not suspect any thing. The bull-frog was tiie first circulat ing greenback, and the entire breed have been notorious inflationists ever since tiie flood. AN ARKANSAS FATHER'S AD VICE JO HIS SON. Bob, you are leaving home for strange paits You arc goin 0 lo throw me out oi tue game auu go it alone. . Tne odds are agm you, 800. Remember that industry aud perseveiauco are tue winning cards, as they are tue "bow ers.” BooX laming aua all that sort of tiling will do to fill up witu; like small trumps, you must have tiie bow ers to back tiiom, or they ain't worm shucks. 11 luck is agiu vou pretty strong, don’t cave and look like a sick chicken on a rainy day, but hold up your head aud make believe y’ou are flush of trumps, men they don't play so hard agin you. I've lived aud trav eled around some, and I’ve found out that as soon as loiks you held a weak hand they’d all ouck agm you strong. IS a, wnen you’re sorter weak, keep on a bold front, but play cau tious —oe satisfied witu a point. Many is tne hands I've seen eucured because they played for too muon. Keep your eyes well skinned, Boo; don’t let ’em mg you; reooueot tue game lies as muon with tue non l as with the hands. Be temperate; never get drunk, for tiien, no matter how you piay it, both bovvers and tue ace won t save you, lor there’s certain to be a misdeal, or soinetuing wrong. And another thing, Bob, (tins was spoken in a low tone,) don’t go-ton muon on women; queens is kinder poor curds, the more you have ol them tue vvoise lor yon; you might have three, and nai'ry trump. 1 don't say’ discard ’em ail; you get hold of oue that .s a ttuuip; it's all your good, and tuere's to ue one out of four. And. atiove all. 800, be hon est;. never take a man's trick tuat don't belong to you, nor slip cards, or uig, tor then you cuu’t look your tnau in the face; and wnen that is tne case, there is no foil m the game; it is a regular "cut tin oat.” ao now, Bob. forewell. Rememner what i tell you, aud you will oe sure to win; and if you don’t it sarves you right to be “skunked.” jejecT 11 TTTyT Does it pay’ to have fifty workmen poor and ragged, in order to have one saloon-keeper dressed in broad-clotu ami tiusu of money ? Does it pay to hang one citizen be cause another got Inin drunk? Dues it pay to nave naif a dozen in telligent young meiUurued into tli.eves and vagabonds tnat one man may get a living by selling them rum ?” Does it pay to have one citizen in the county jail because another sells liim liquor? Does it pay to receive sls for a rum license, and men pay sdo.ooD for try ing a man for murder, induced by the rum sold him? Does it pay to have a thousand homes blasted, ruined, defiled, turueu into hells of misery, strife, aud want, that some wholesale rmnseller may build up a large fortune? Does it pay to have twenty mothers and children dres3 in rags, live in nov els daily famish, that one rinnseller’s wife and children may live in ease and affluence? Does it p.ay to have hundreds of thousands of men and women in alms houses, penitentiaries and hospitals, and thousands more in the asylum for tiie idiotic and insane, that a few heavy capitalists of the whisky ring may profit by such atrocity? Does it pay to tolerate a traffic which breeds crime, poverty, agouv, idleness, shame, and death, wherever It is allowed!—Christian at Work. [Fill thefitteeu oiauas with the name® of as many varieties of dogs :] There was a man whose name was Daniel, 1 He had a handsome -, ile thought he’d change it fora better, 2 No, he bought instead a splendid , Though soon ha sold it to a farrier, 3 And tried to buy a well trained But found the salesman a deceiver. 4 And took instead a black ; And then to make him all the merrier, 5 Repurchased a most lively ; Then stepped aside and bought an _ eagle, 6 Yet fancied lie should like a , \\ liich undesirable he found, 7 So changed it for a young ; Then saw upon a crimson rug 8 IFhat he declared a “lovely , He wished to own it when his eye 9 Fell on a little dog from ; But as he whistled ‘Yankee Doodle;" 10 Up sprung a very clever ; IF Idle close beside hint there did stand 11 A huge black-coated ; And yet to purchase it was folly; 12 He’d rather have a faithful Or though to get one might be hard; 13 He’d like to have a , Just then a man like an Albanian 14 Led by a snowj' ; But how the little creature snarls ! 15 ’Tis snappish as a small . So many dogs did quite confuse, And Daniel found it hard to choose, And quite imp ssible to find One tiiat was suited to his mind ; £ome were too large and some too small, And so lie’ll have no dog at all. The Emperor of Brazil, dodged snobdom in New York on his arrival there. He landed quietly at an ob scure pier-hired a private hack aud went to his hotel like a sensible man. The flunkeys stoo I around the foot of 24th street waiting to see the Emberor, whilst he was cosily ensconced in his hotel. NO. 52, Miscellaneous frowsers ontaiued on credit are breecaes of trust. High colors—r.iaS3 in the rainbow. A reporter once aptly called an un successful printers’ strike a typograpu ieal error The style of pantaloons to be worn this lall will be large enough to tie back. Why fs a store tiiat don't advertise like Enoch Arden? Because it “sees no sale from day to day.” “What's going on?” said a well known more to Douglass Jerrold. “1 am.” was the reply, and on he went. A man may be said to have been drink.ug like a iisu wnen ho finds that he uas taken enough to make ms head swim. “What (I * you take for your cold?” said a lady to Mr. . “Four pocket handkeremefs a day, madam,” was tue answer. “Button parties,’ are popular in the West. We do.it know wueuce tney derive their name, uaiess it is because tney’re always sure to oo.ue off'. A physician boasted at dinner tiiat he cured ms own minis, wnen one of Ins guests remarked: “Doctor, I'd sooner oo you. iiam than your patient.” “1.3 your house a warm one, land lord?’ asked a gentleman m search ot a house. "It ought to ue,” was tue re ply ; “the painter gave it two coats re cently.” W anted—A cover for bare suspicion, a veil for the face of nature, buttons for the breaches oi privileges, binding for a volume ol smoke, cement for broken engagements. There is a woman in Jersey so eco nomical that tue otner night, while her husband was abed, she turned and made over his dast pair ol' pantaloons for oue of the children. Here is the model verdict of a coro ner's jury : “ vVe do believe, after due inquiries, and according to onr best knowledge, that we do not know how, Wnen and where said infant came to Ins death,” A western paper announces the ill ness of its editor, piously adding: “All good paying subscribers are re quested to mention linn in their pray ers. The others nee 1 not, as tne prayers of the wicked avail nothing.” A pious father catered a saloon with a horse whip oue night last week and found his son playing euchre, lie tanned the young man’s jacket and sent him home, and then sat down and finished the game himself. “My boy, tell me v.h.at you know about rattan?” said the Committee man. “it is sometimes called the ‘Cal lamus Rottang;’ comes from l’enang, Samarang. an i l'udaiig, and is used uy tho master in tins school too clang often.” Somebody gave Paddy McGrath a pickled egg, yesterday, Paddy bit it in two, opened his mouth, made a face and said : “lie me sow!, I'll go before any Jcdge or jury in t ie wurreid an’ take me o.ffh that the bin that led tnat egg had the dyspipsy or heartburn. A young Shell Rock (Iowa) man who recently started out for tiie Black Hills, writes back to Uis friends that it s a perieet earthly para iso out there and he’s delighted with it. He also asks them to j lease loan him §25 to come home with. At the close of a tavern dinner, two of the company fell down stairs, the one tumbling to the first landing place and Ihe other rolling to tiie bottom. S nno one remarked that the first sjemed drunk. “Yes,” observed the wag, “but he is not so far gone as tue other gentlemen below." Said his Honor: “Mr. Peters, why don't you sit clown, sir?" “I don’t sit down any more, sir.” But you must!” “Well, sir. she "said we both couldn’t sit in one chair, and I tried to demon strate that wo could, and she picked me up aud settled me on top of' a red hot stove, and 1 and m’t believe I care to sit down, if it please the court.” Tho Court agreed with tho witness. THE DYI XG II OIiDS OF RECENT STATESMEN. Shed no muleteers for me—[B. 11. Bristow. Tho game is played out.—[Poker Bob Sehenok. Stand by your post traderships— Teat d'armoe. —[Belknap. I am glad that I die young. It would be a terrible tiling to grow old and sinful.—[Williams. My son, never write letters.—Pierre pout. If I had only been born twins I could have made just twice as much.— Orville L. Grant. Some love to roam o’er the dark soa I foam, but as for me. give me a worm eaten hull ina snug harbor.—Robeson. Don’t weep for me. I'm glad to get out of tho Wilderness. Meet me in the happy hunting grounds.—Delano. Look not on the still when it is crooked.—John McDonald, They say tho staeots or the New Jerusalem are paved with gold. I want to go —[Boss Shepherd, Who would have thought that cold tongue would kill a man?—[Jim Blaine. I go where “mum’s the word.”—• I [Joyce.