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VOLUME 6.
.
THE ROME COURIER
16 PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
BY A. n. EDDLEMAN.
> Two Doij.aks nor annum, it paid in advance 1
Two Dollars anil Fifty Cants if paid within si*
^‘months j or Throo Dollars nt tlto end of tho year.
Rales, ol AdTsriliiaf ■
Legal Advsutisembnts will ho insortod with
etrlct attention to the requirements of the law, at
the following rates i
Four Months Notice, ...
Notice to Debtors and Creditors,
. Sale ot Personal Proporty, by Exccu-
tors, Administrators, too.
Sales of Land or Negroes, 00 days,
SOME; GA;‘ THTJESDAI MOBBING, TONE 5,1851.
NUMBER
#4 00
3 25
3 25
S 00
per square, J _
Lettors of Citation, • - * J 75
Notice for Letters of Dismission, - 4 50
their ttamos, will bo
bo roqulred in advance.
nnounelng
whioh win
Candidates am
charged #5 00, Whioh wl
®5
Husbands advertising their Wives, will bo ohnrged
5 00, wliioh must always bo paid In advance.
* All other advertisements will be Inserted at Ono
Dollar per square, of twelve lines or less, for the
first, and Fifty Cents, for oaoh subsequent inser-
^Liberal deductions will be made in favor ofthoso
who advertise by the year. .
GARBS.
B. W. ROSS,
0ENT18T,
Rome, Georgia......Officeover N.J. Omberg’s
Clothing Store.
January 16,1861,
FRANCIS X. ALLEN,
. WHOLESALE AND RETAIL
Dealer.in Staple and Fancy
Ary goods and grocdries.
Q& Receives uew goods every week. ^&j)
Rome, Ga., January 3, 1881.
From Arthur's Home Gnzetto.
THE MISSIONARY AND THE ROBBER.
LIN & BRANTLY.
WARE-HOUSE, COMMISSION & PRODUCE
MERCHANTS,
Atlanta, Ga.
(^Liberal advances made on any article
in Store.
Nov. 28,1880. ly
A. D. KINO & CO.
COTTO YGIN MANUFACTURE 3S
Rome, Georgia.
May 0.1S50.
ALEXANDER «c TRAMMELL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
ROME, QA.
Nov. 88, 1850. ly.
mm
mohas iiaudkhan. H o«a*les v. Hamilton.
HAMILTON fc HARDEMAN,
factors & Commission Merchants,
SAVANNAU, QEOROIA
Oct. 3, 1850, 1 18»n
OIIAELKa r. HAMILTON. H . THOMAS ItAaDBM.N
HARDEMAN tc HAMILTON,
Warehouse & Commission Merchants,
MACON, GEORGIA.
Oct. 3, 1850. 1 J0n>.
PAT TO N fc PATTOnT
ATTORNEY S AT LAW,
Rome, Geoigia.
WILL PraetieeIn nil the Countlcsof tho Chnro
i'cirouit 46 Sept. 5, 1850,
:. TATTOJt. i. t. rATTOH.
W.P. WILKINS.
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Rome, Georgia.
IS TO
Hon. n r. porter,charleston, s. o., or
at oAVusramo, on.
.Hon W. II. UNDERWOOD, ROME. QA.
Hon. W1LUAU EZZAUD, DEOATUa, QA.
July 18,1850. 41 ly
O. W. BEALL,
JRnAPER AND TAILOR,
Broad Street Rome, Ga.
October 10,1880.
:
J. D. DICKERSON,
DRUGGIST—ROME, GEORGIA.
WHOLESALE AND RETAII. DEALER IN
DRUGS, MEDICINES, PAINTS, OILS, DYE
STUFFS, PERFUMERY, &c.
Ootobor 10,1850 Broad Street.
COULTER & COLLIER. ~~
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
. Rome, Georgia.
Feb. 11,1881. '
CHOICE’S HOTEL,
ROME, GEORGIA.
MRS. MARY CHOICE
Formerly of Dahlonega, has taken ohargo of tho
EW HOTEL, and made extonslve preparations
i the comfort and oonvenienoo of those who may
Ivor her with a call. From her long experience,
confidently hopes to give entire satisfaction to
isient Visitors and Pormanont Boarders,
ptembor 5,1850. 43 12m
r Persons will be carried to and from
Depot to the Hotel, free of charge.
fM. II. UNDERWOOD & J. W. II. UNDERWOOD.
WILL PRACTICE LAW
1 the Counties of the Cherokee Circuit, (ex
l\ept Dade). They will both peraonolly attend nil
Courts. J. W, H, UNDERWOOD will attend
»r3ourts of Jackson and Habersham counties of the
1 t j rcuit. Both will attend tho sessions of the
PREME COURT at Cossville and Gainesville,—
ness entrusted to them will be promptly and
7 attended to.
! next door to Hooper So Mitchell, "Buena
c,” Ronia, Ga., at which place one or both
tlwuys bo found, exrept absent on professional
:.23, 1851
LW COTTON GINS
AT HOME, GA.
I'HSTANDING our Shop has been des-
twice within tho last two years, once by
nee by fire, we are again manufacturing
r Cotton Gins, and have prepared ourselves
“nount of orders with which we may be
e arc not making Premium Gins, or Wa-
B , nor do wo claim all the experience that
l acquired iii the art of Gin making, but we
•Tout boasting, say that we oro willing to
Sins sido by sldo whh any niadc in the Uni-
|M tha same price, and compare quality and
ed per day dny with them.
A. D. KING & CO.
BY AN OLD PIONEER
In the year of our Lord 18—, a missiona
ry from one of the eastern States, who had
just completed his studies, and had received
a commission from the Missionary Soci
ety, was passing in a westerly direction over
the prairies ofiilinois,
He hnd seen, occasionally, an article in
some of tho three or four religious periodi
cals of that period, about tho F-n-r Vv-o-s-t,
and with the benevolent desire of doing
good to the destitute and scattered pioucers
ot this remote, and then scarcely kpown re
gion, hnd traveled on horseback from his na
tive villege, preaehl.ig on sabbaths, as occa
sions offered, during his long journey.—
Ohio was then ‘'said to be” a land of moral
desolation ;—Indiana was “supposed’’ to be
many degrees lower in the scale of civiliza
tion,-ana the new statelof Illinois was ‘imagin
ed’’ to be situated very near the “jumping-
off place.” A vogue and-somewhat doubt
ful impression existed as to the locality and
character of Missouri;—and Kentucky was
known abroad by report for its fighting and
gouging propensities, while tho population
were characterized, as “half-horse, half-alli
gator, and a touch-of-the snapping-turtle.”
Amongst the vogue and rather indistinct
impressions of the character and habits of
frontier adventurers, that floated over the
mind of the young missionary, were those of
robbery and murders.
During the period of inquiry and anxious
meditation about devoting his life ns a mis
sionary of the cross in the wilds of the west,
the idea of robbery and _ murder occupied no
minor place in his imagination. Stilt, with
commendable resolution and a martyr spirit,
he resoivod to hazard even life, with the sa
crifice of every earthly comfort, to preach
the gospel and introduce tho meliorating
influences of civilization amongst a people
who belonged to the same nation with himself,
and who might eventually exert a controling,
influence over the destinies of the repub
lic.
It was on a cloudy and cold day in the.
month of December that our missionary
friend was seen crossing an arin of the Grand
prairie, east ot the Olcau, os the Kaskoskia
river, by abbreviation (au Kas,) and French
accent had been called. He had traveled a
longdistance that day, by following a .devi
ous and obscure trail, or “bridle-path,” now
through a skirt of timber—then across tho
point of a prairie, without seeing a log
cabin, or’any other “sign” of a human resi
dence. Night was fast approaching.-
The landlord, where he had been ac
commodated with “private entertainment”
the preceding night, hod directed him on a
“blind trail” to a fording place across the
Okau, beyond which, ana in the same direc
tion was the town of G to which he
was journeying. Both horse and rider were
fatigued with long fasting and a hard ride,
and the missionary couldform no -conjecture
how far it might be from a settlement which
he had hoped to reach before nightfall.
Anxious and somewhat bewildered, he
looked in each direction for signs of o hu
man habitation, when an uncouth specimen
of humanity appeared on horseback, and
coming in a rapid movement, and in a dia
gonal direction, across tho prairie towards
the path of the missionary; As the man ap
proached, his personal appearance, dress and
equipage manifested no friandly design.—
His head was covered with the skin of the
prairie wolf, with the tail hanging behind.
His outer garment was neither a coat, frock,
or blouse. In western parlence it was a
hunting shirt, made of dressed deer skin,
with the cape and side strips curiously notch
ed and fringed, but to the missionary it had
an alarming aspect.
Over it hung a powder horn and bullot-
pouch, and around his body was a leathern
belt, in which-was thrust a formidable knife.
A loaded.rifle carelessly lay across the rider’s
shoulder.
Nor was his personal appearance i» the
least degree prepossessing. Ho sported n
black beard of three week’s growth, and
dark elfish locks of hair could be seen be
neath the skin cap. His countenance, from
constant exposure to the weather, was
swarthy, and a rough, stalwart, brawny
frame seemed to the alarmed missionary of
gigantic proportions ; it had braved the
storms of more than forty winters.
Every indication painted most vividly on
the perturbed imagination ot the missionary
the danger that hung over him. The first
impulse was to urge his jaded horse into a
flight. A second thought convinced him of
the hopelessness of tho attempt, and, breath
ing a word of prayer to heaven for protection,
he felt to submit to his fate, with a gleam of
hope that the desperado,’who was but a few
yards from him, might, peradventure, spare
his lifo.
The salutation that struck on his ear, in a
harsh, gutteral voice, conveyed no consola
tion to his mind, and only served to increase
his alarm.
“Hallo, stranger! what are you about
there ? Where are you a riding ?”
The reply was given in tho language of
weekness and submission, and something
was added, with indistinct utterance about
giving up horse and equipments if his life
might be spared. Learning, on further in
quiry, that his route was across the river to a
settlement some fifteen or twenty miles dis
tant, the supposed robber replied in a voice
by no means mild and attractive—“You
can’t get there to-night—besides, the old
ford is washed away, and you cannot find the
new ono , follow me—J. can fix you.”
The term “fix” had on ominous import,
but the exact degree of outrage implied in
this new form,of speech, was not very clear
to the missionary. But there was no alter
native. He was alone and wholly unprotect
ed ; he was small in stature, of slender
make, had no weapons but spiritual ones,
andsuccessful resistance was hopeless. He
knew not the path to the river, and were he
Light, stranger, u«u. ....
bags—I’ll fix your horse.”
Taking his saddle-bags on his arm os di
rected; he enteied the cabin through a low
doorway. Here was a woman and three
children, but their personal appearance and
dress might, or might not indicate danger to
the traveller. On her head was a covering
of coarse'cotton, balled, in the language of a
jiast generation, a “sun bonuet.” It nearly
to attempt flight the death-dealing rifle might
stop him. So he turned os directed into
the trail and followed the guide. As they
slowly rode in “Indian file,” through the
tall grass, with pdirts of timber and- brush
wood for tho space of two miles, the mis
sionary drew a fancy picture on his imagine-
tion&of a cavo nnd a gang ot robbers, who
would soon “fix” him, or determine his fate.
He breathed more freely when he found only
a single cabin, a rough looking stable for
horses.; and a.cornfield of a few acres, with
no signs of accomplices.
"Light, stronger, and take your saddle-
her face from human observation,
Reaching forward a stool, the only saluta
tion given was—“Take a seat by the fire,
stranger.”
Recollecting what Ledyard, and other
travelers have said of the humanity and
hospitality of the female sex, the missionary
mused on. the probabilities of escaping with
life ; feeling a degree of reconciliation at the
loss of his horse, his saddle-bags, and the
contents of his purse, which last contained
but a few dollars for traveling expenses. In
his saddle-bags were divers articles of ap
parel which he could spare, and there was
the pocket bible, the gift ol a mother now in
heaven, a hymn book, and a small package
of neatly written sermons, which had cost
him several months labor, and, ns he fanci
ed, were amirably adapted to dispense the
clouds of ignorance that brooded over the in
habitants of Illinois.
In the meantime the Settler, hunter, or
robber, in whatever vocation he might ap
pear, had replenished the fire with some
logs of dry hickory, while the busy house
wife was preparing tho homely meal.
It consisted of fried venson-steak, corn
“dodgers,” and highly flavored coffee, witli
the appurtenances of fresh cream, and excel
lent butter.
The.missionary, who had eaten nothing
since early dawn, and was cogitating whith
er feminine humanity would not afford him a
morsel in the corner whore ho sat, was start
led with the invitation—“Sit by, stranger,
and take a bite.” If surprise and grati
tude were the first emotions, amazement fol
lowed, when the apparent rbbber implored
the blessing of God in a sonorous voice, clos
ing with nn expressive Amen !
Bewildered and confused, the missionary
forgot to eat, until repeatedly reminded by
his now apparently hospitable landlord, and
the kindhearled wife, that he did not eat—
“Perhaps he was not used to such fare”—
Wouid he take a sup of milk.” Hedid not
seem to regain his appetite until the officious
hotisewife brought on her platter of honey,
gathered from the hollow sycamore, and
made divers appologies (hat her larder con
tained nothing he could eat.
After supper, the landlord commenced re
ligious conversation with the inquiry—“Are
you a professing man, stranger ?” The ques
tion relative to church membership was pro
pounded in a novel form, and did not convey
to the mind of the missionary exactly the idea
intended.
“You looked mighty skeered when 1 found
you in the prairie, I reckon you was sort o’
lost.”
Still the replies wero vague and confused,
aud it wns not until thoownor of the cabin,
in a loud and animating tono struck up the
favorite hymn of the followers of Wea’ey—
A charge to Keep I have.
A God to glorify;
A never-dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sky—
In which his wife joined, that the missionary
was relieved • from ' his perturbation, and
could converse calmly. The hymn was fol
lowed by a characteristic prayer, in which
the “stranger” was affectionately remember
ed at the throne of mercy, to which tho wife
responded with several audible groans.—
Conversation followed the evening oblation,
during which the missionary- disclosed his
profession, and his object in traveling, and re
ceived due reproof, for his previous back
wardness. But he had not the heart to tell
his fears and sufferings from the apprehen
sion of -robbery and murder from n kind-
henrted local Methodist preacher in a “back-
wood’s” disguise, who was the first man to
preach the gospel to the scattered popula
tion on tho borders of the Grand prairie,
east of the Okau.
Next morning (he missionary Jed in prayer,
and after an eatly brenkfast the hospitable
preacher saddled his own horse, with that of
the missionary, and piloted him to the “New”
fording-place across tluS river, several miles
in the direction tnwnrds G .
Giving the parting hand, with a severe
but affectionate grasp, tho valedictory was,
“Now, stranger, you know where my
cabin is—don’t pass without giving me a
call, and stay long enough to givo tho peo
ple a preach.”
The missionary found a field of labor in a
new and growing village, among a popula
tion quite as intelligent and virtuous as the
people of his i^tive State, and a church edi
fice, a sabbath ischool and bible class urose
under his labors.
The Methodist preacher, t^hom his breth
ren at quarterly meeting, never suspected of
having been mistaken for n robber, in due
time duffed his wolf skin cap and leather
hunting shirt, became clad" in tho cotton-gar
ments, spun and wove by his industrious
wife, made a large farm, prepared a spacious
“camping-ground” for the annual consecra
tions, and witnessed the conversion of many
sinners under his own labors.
The missionary acknowledged to tho wri
ter, wlieu he revealed, in a somewhat confi
dential manner, this story of his fright, that
he was but half educated when he came to
Illinois.
But these men had'their appropriate
spheres of usctulncss, to which they were fit
ted by nature, habits, education nnd grace,
nnd boilt, years since received the plaudit,
“Well douo thou good and fnithful servant
—enter thou into tho joy of thy. Lord.”
Deacon Smith’s Bull
OR i
MIKE FINK IN A TIGHT PLACE,
I1V SCROGGINS.
Mike Fink, n notorious Buckeye hunter,
tvns contemporary witli tho celebrated Davy
Croliett, ana his equal in all thiugs appertain
ing to human prowess It was even said
that the animnis in his neighborhood know
the crack of his rifle, and would take to thoir
sooret hiding places on the first intimation
that Alike was about. Yet strange, though
true, he was little known beyond nis imrnc-
^r.-to.“scttlcment.”
When we knew him he was an old man;
the blasts of seventy winters had silvered his
head, nnd taken the elasticity from his limbs;
yet, in the whole course of his life, Mike
was never worstod, -oxcept upon ono occa
sion. To use l.is own language, he “never
gin in, used up, to any thing that traveled on
two legs or four,” but once.
“That once, wo want,”said Bill Slasher,
as some dozen of us sat in tho. bar-room of
the only tavern ip the “settlement.”
“Gin it to us now, Mike—you’ve promis
ed lung enough, and you’er old now, and you
needn’t care,” continued Bill.
■ “Right! right 1 Bill,”, said'Mike; “but
we’ll open with licker all round fust, it’ll kind
o’ s'avo my feelins, 1 reckon.
as walkin’ on this route,; if you’ve no objec
tions, I’ll jist take dock pnssnge on that nr
back o’ youm ! So, I want long giftin’
astride o’ him, and then you’d o’ sworn tlinr tides ol load ore obtained, viz., cheese and
want nothin’ human in that ar mix ! tho silo butter; butter exists in the form of very small
flow r ■’ *’ -niJ / • -«... .ASMSMEH ...
round
on t’other, try in’to clinch my feet I
BUTTER.
Milk is the most natural and common food
of man. Out of milk f n o other common ar
ticles of food are obtained, viz., cheese and
butter; butter exists in the form of very small
so orfully as (ho critter an’ I rolled globules, nnd out of 100 parts of cow’s milk,
d the field—one dog on ono sido and one 3.70 parts of butter are obtained. Human
'I proved and
ed, until I couldn’t toll which I did i».—
ana neither want any use, they war so orful-
ly mixed up;
‘‘Well, I reckon- I rid aboot an hour in
this wny, when Old Brindie thort it wartime
to stop to take in a supply o’ wind nnd cool
off a little;! So. when wo got round ton
tree that stood tiiar, he rial’rally halted!
“Now, says I, old boy, you’ll lose one pas
senger, sartin. So I jist clunt upon a branch,
knlk’Iatin’ to roost tlinr tilt I starved, befoto
I’d be rid round.in that way aiiy longer.
“I wnr n mnkin’ tracks for the top o’ tho
tree, when I hearn somethin’ n mnkin’ nn or
ful buzzin’over head. I kinder looked up,
and if thnr want—well,'thnr’s no Use n swnr-
in now, but it war the biggest hornet’s nest
ever hilt!
“You’ll gin in now, I recon, Alike, lease
thar’s no help for you. But nn idee struck
mo then, that I’d stand a honp' better chance
a ridin’ the old Bull thnn whar 1 war. Says
1, old feller, if you’ll hold on I’ll ride tp the
next station^ any how, let that be whar it
will !
“Thar, that’s good—better than t’other
barrel, if anything 1’’
“Well, hoys,” continued Mike, “you may
talk o’ your scrimmages, tight places, end
sich.like, and subtract ’em oltogethor in one
almighty big ’un, nnd theu they hnint no
more to be compared to the one I war in thnn n
dead kitten to an old she bar I I’ve fout all
kinds o’ varmints, from an Ingin down to n
rattlesnake I and never was will’n to quit
fust, but this once—end ’twits with n Bull I
“You see' boys, it war no awful hot dny
in August nnd 1 wnr nigh runnin’ of! into
pure He, when I war thinkin’ that a dip in
the creek mout save mo. Well, thar was a
mighty nice place in one old Deacon Smith’s
medder for that pnrtic’ldr bizzincss. So 1
went down amongst the bushes to unharness.
I jist hauled tho old red shirt over my head,
and war thinkin how scrumptious a toiler i
my size would feel it wollerin’ round id lit
ar .waiter, nnij was jest
seed the Deacon’s Bui
where 1 stood.
“I know’d the old cuss, for he’d sknr’d
more people than all tho parsons o’ the “set
tlements,” nnd cum mighty nigh killen’ a
few. Thinks 1, Mike, you’ro in rather a
tight place—get your fixins’ on, for he’ll bo
a drivin’ them big horns o’ his in ver bowels
afore that time ! Well, you’ll have to try
the old varmint naked, I reck’n.
“The Bull war on one side o’ tho creek
want nigh half n bushel of tho stingin’ vnr-
vints ready to pitch unto me when tho word
“go” was gin!
“Well, 1 reckon tjjpygot it, for “all hands”
started for our compady. Some on ’em hit
tho dogs about a quail struck mo, nnd the
rest charged on Old Brindlo.
“This timo the dogs led ofTfust, dead bont
for the old Deacon’s, nud ns soon ns Old
Brindie nnd I could get under wny, we. fol
lowed! And ns 1 war only a deck pnssen- Mexico soldomeat.it,
ger and had nothin’ to do with steerin’ the
craft, I sworo if 1 hnd, we wouldn’t a run
that channel, nny how !
“But, ns I said nfore, tho dogs took tho
lend—Brindlo nnd I next, nnd tho hornets
drok’ly nrlor. The dogs yellin’, brindlo bel-
lorin’, nnd hornets buzzin’and stingih’,!' 1
didn’t sny nothin’, for it want no use.
“Well, wo’d got about two hundred yards
from tho house, nnd the Deacon honrn us
nnd cum out. 1 seed him hold up his hand
’bout Win’ in, whon 1 ?. nd Ulrn Hfl*Sl ! 1 rockon ho .war prayin',
1 a mnkin’ a li lino to tken > for 110 didn’t expect to lie called for so
soon; and it wnnt long, neither, nforo the
hull congregation, men, women nnd children,
cum out, and then nil hands wont to yellin’ !
“None of ’om had tho fust notion that
Brindlo nnd I belonged to this world, * —
fly for a while, as if he war a dingin’
my grave was distressin’l
‘iCome on ye bellerin’ old heathen,” said
1, “and do’nt. be standin’ thar, for, ns the old
deacon soys o’ the devil, ye are not comely
to loolc on.’
“This kind o’ reached his understnndin’,
and made him more wishous; for he hoofed n
little like, and mnde n dive. As I don’t like
to stand in anybody’s way, I gin him plenty
o’ sea room ! So he kind o’ passed by me
and cum out on t’other side; and as tho Cap
tain o’ tho Mud Swnmp Rangers would soy,
“’bout face for’nother charge.”
•1‘Though I war ready for ’im this time, he
cum mighty nigh runnin’ a foul o’ me. 1
made up my mind the next time" he went
out, ho wouldn’t be alone. So when he
passed 1 grappled his tail, and he pulled me
out on the Bile, and ns soon as we war both
a top o’ the bank, old brindie stopped nnd
war about cornin’ round again, whon I begun
pullin’ t’other way.?’
“Well,I reck’n this kind o’ riled ’im, for
he sust flood s'oek still and looked at me for
a spell, nnd then commenced pawin’ and bel-
lerin’, and the way he made his hind gearin’
.piny in tho air, was beautiful !'
“But il want no use, he could teach mo;
so he kind o’ slopped to wind-for somethin’
deviish, ns 1 judged by the wny hestarted! By
this time I had made up my mind to stick to
his tail ns long ns it stuck to his back-bone !
1 didn’t like to holler for help, nuthcr, kose
it war agin my principles; and then the Dea
con hnd preachin’ at his house, nnd it wnnt
fur oil, nuther.
“1 know’d if he hearn tho noise, the hull
congregation would cum down; and ns 1
wasn’t a married man nnd hnd a kind o’ han
kerin’ nrtor a gal just thnr, 1 didn’t feel as if
I’d like to be seed in that ar predicament.
“So, says, I, you old snrpent, do your cus
sedest! And so he did; for he drug me ov
er every brier and stump in tho field, until I
war sweatin’ and blecdin’ like a fat bar with
a pack o’ hounds at his heels. And my
namo nint Mike Fink, if the old critter’s tail
and 1 didn’t blow out sometimes a dead lcnv-
el with the varmint’s hack!
“So you may kalk’lato we made good
time. Bimeby he slackened a little, and
then I had ’im for n spell, for I jist dropped
behind n stump and thnr snubbed the critter!
Now, says 1, you’ll up lhis’er white oak—
break. yer tail ! or jest hold on a bit till 1
blow!
“Well, while 1 war settin’ thnr, an idee
struck me 'that 1 had better be gittin* out o’
this in some w ay. But how, nazackly, •was
the pint! If I let go nnd run he’d bo afoul o'
me, sure! . • . ,
“So, lookin’ nt the matter in all its bear
ins, I cum to the conclusion that I’d better
let somebody know whar I war. So I gin a
yell louder than a locomotive whistle, and it
want long afore I seed tho Deacon’s two
dogs a cumin’ down like as if they warseein’
which could git thnr fust.
“I know’d who they war nrter—they’d
jine the Bull again me, 1 war certain, for
they war orful wenomous an J L ' J -
again mo,
“So, si
milk contains about one-sixth moro butter
titan the abbve. Butler is indebted to a sub
stance cnllcd “bulyrino” for its fine flavor.
Casoin, the cheesy matter of milk, if not
I turn
ed my head nnd passed the hull congrogalion!
I seed the run would be up soon, for Brindie
oo'uldn’t turn‘an inch from a fense that stood'
dead ahead!
“Well, we reached that fense, nnd I went
and I on T’other, and the way ho made the gOTS °'’ er tl “ okl .««'* r ’a head, iandin’on
“aile” fly for a while, as if he war a dicin’ and ffe tha . r stunne f 1 Xfft
J long nfore sum on ’em who wnr not so skccr’d
cum round to see wlint I war I For nit hnnds
knlk’lntod thnt the Bull and I belonged to
gether! But when Brindie walked off by
nimseif.they seed how it wur, and one of
’em said, “Mike Fink has'got the mat of the
scrimmage wtins’l in his life I
“Gentlemen, from that day I dropped the
courtin’ bizziness, and never spoke to a gnl
since ! And whon my hunt is up on this
yenrth, thnr won’t be nny more .Finks! and
its nil owin’ to Deacon Smith’s Brindlo Bull.
A Few Definitions.
MAnntAOE—A “ State Lottery,” not put
down.
War—Congregational worship of the devil.
Murder to musio.
Character—The only personal property
which everybody looks after for you.
Sleep—A cloak thrown around us nt the
sidescreens ns we leave the stage n while.
Napoleon—A naughty boy who was put
in a corner because he wanted the world fo
play With.
Woman—The melody of the human duett,
A golden coin, which educators plate. over
with silver,
' Pen—Alever, small enough to bo used by
one mnn,_but strongh enoug to raise the whole
wbrld.
Revenge—Bitter sweets, plucked from
the devil’s • garden. Quenching your thirst
with brandy.
Metaphysics—Words to stay tho nppetito
till facts are ready- Feeling for a science in
tho dark.
Tobacco—A triple memento mori: dost for
the nose, ashes for the mouth, nnd poison lor
the stomach.
Life—One to whorii wo nro always in
troduced without our consent, but whom we
seldem quit without regret.
Sword—The first hope of the oppressor
and the Inst hope of the oppressed. Passion’s
special pleader in folly’s court of appeal
Scholar—A diver for pearls, who gener
ally loses his breath before he gathers much
treasure.
Duel—A strongo old custom,according to
which, men suffering from inflammation at
tempt’ to cure themsolvcs by bleeding some
body else.*®’
Ball-room—A chess-board played upon
by lovo and hate. A confined place, in
which poor creatures are committed by fash
ion to hard labor.
Newspaper—The groat general of tho
people who has driven (he enemy from the
fortified heights of power, nnd compelled him
to give battle in the open field of thought!—
A Winding-sheet, in which Parliamentary
speeches are interred.—From “the Council
of Four.’
“Do you believe that ?” asked an old cro
ny of Mrs. Partington,
“Lasakcs! believe it ? why sartain. It’s
in the papers, same ns if it was gospel; in my
destination,” and it was some timo before tho
iod lady could recover from her wondcr-
nt at the strangeness of the question
ap
pear to have been known to'the ancients, at
least so far as history roveais knowledge, but
wo cannot bbliovc that butter was not known
to them for nil this. Wo read of “a land
floating with inilk nnd honey,” but'no but
ter, still this is not conclusive ngninst the
reasonable a inclusion that tho old Hohi-ews
did know wlmt it was, Tho oldest hint, his
torically, about butter, is given by Herodo
tus, who ascribes tho uso of it to the Scy
thians. Hippocrates also alludes to the Scy
thian butter, nnd recommends its use exter
nally for medicine; In tho lime of Galen
butter wns known nnd used, button very
limited extent, among tho Greeks and Ro
mans; in tho second century' Pliny nseribes
tho invention of butler to the Germans, but
this only shows thnt the Romans became ac
quainted with it through the Germans.
It wai much used ns n pomatum both by
tho Greek and Roman Indies. Pliny recom
mends it to be mixed with honey nnd rubbed
over tho gums to easo the pain of teething,
and for ulcers in the mouth—a hint Hint may
not ho usoloss.to us moderns. The Romans
annointed the bodies bf their children with
butter to mitko them pliable, nnd it appears
that they did not know hntler ns we do, in
firm cakes, but only ns n semi-fluid, like
thick dlive oil. This is not wounderful'ow
ing to the genoral warmth of; Southern Italy.
Neither tho -Spaniards nor Portuguese know
much about butler, nnd tlio inhabitants of
Mexico soldom eatlt, lii the city of Mexi
co it costs ono dollar por pound; llio most
woa’.thy classes do not uso so much of it us
tho poorest amongst us; in fnct they do Hot
consider it nn essential -article of lood.—wo
do, and could not, to use a common phrase,
“live without it.” It is justly believed that
more butter' is consumed in the Northern
States of Amorica than in nny other country
having the snmo amount of population in the
world. Tho Hollanders nro distinguished
for making good butter, so also are the North
ern Germans. Norwegians, and Danes. The
Khglish, Irish, und Scotch make and con
sume n great deal of butler, especially tho
Scotch, who are, or nt lenst wore, almost
half Jewish in their feelings towards tho use
of pork and Inrd.
1'lie grent secret of making good butter,
is clennlinoss nnd plenty of elbow grease.—
In some parts of Ireland, but especially in
Devonshire, England, nnd Ayrshire, in Scot
land, tho butter made has hud a world-wide
faino. The plan pursued seems to bo for
tho dairy maid to tyash their understandings,
and porform tho same operations as the
Fronch and Portuguese who dnneo among
the' gropes nt the. wine press. By hnving
large tubs with false bottoms, covered with
clean coarse cloth, into which the butter is
placed ttnd dancod upon, with walor to wash
it os much ns is required, all the cheesy mat
ter is pressed through the coarse ciotli nnd
runs offwith the water of cleansing. This is
a. most efficient nnd elfectual way of working
butter for packing. As a general thing, tho
kind very common in our markets dopends
for its weigh in hnving a good deal of tho
milk-left in it, and nono.of tho chcosy mat
ter pressed Out—Wis h profitable way bf pro
ducing it for sale. Butter for foreign coun
tries should to woll trnmped or tent and
washed some way, and it should bo packed
in a dish'placed in tho inside of n largo one,
big enough to fill around it with salt.
Rancid butter edn bo completely cured of
its bad tasto and smell, by melting it in a
clean tin dish, adding some salerntus, and
Htroinlng it through a clean cloth. After
this it appears of a different form; it crysrali-
zes, in soft round crystals, and has no taslo
liko whnt it would have had, if made well at
the first operation. All rancid butter for
cooking should he treatrd this way; it chang
es the butter,1nkes nwny the bad smoll, pre
vents it from spoiling again, howover long
kept, nnd it really has a beautiful appear
ance. The butter should bo kept stirred af
ter it is all dissolved for about ten minutes.
One ounce of : snlerotus will purify four
pounds bf butter. A thick sediment fulls to
the bottom, and a very thick scum gathers
on (he top. Butter is one of the finest arti
cles of human food, The farmer witli his
snowy while bread and boautiftil golden but
ter for breakfast, makes a richer feast than
the monarch to whom those things nre de
nied.— Scientific American.
Secure Tlio:
We find floating in the papers a good anec
dote. It is that of a hern, who, when an
overwhelming force was in full pursuit, and
nil his followers were urging'him to moro
rapid flight, cooly dismounted in. order to
repair a flaw in his horse’s harness. .Whilst
busied with the broken; buckle; the distant
cloud swep down in nearer thunders, hut just
as the proncing hoofs and ongor spears wero
roady to dash.down on him, the flaw was
mended, the clasp' was fastened, the steed
was mounted, and liko n swooping falcon ho
hud vanished front their vid-.r. n The broken
buckle would have if left him on tho. field a
dismounted and- inglorious prisoner. 'J'lio
timely delay sent him in aafety;-to his huzza
ing comrades.
Tho Amoricari version ofthe wisdom em
braced in the robovii is, “Be sure, you nre
right then go ahead !” It is attributed to
David Crockett, nnd may, or may not hav«
been tho original utlernhce,pf that cccen
though,like many other utter As of wis- *
he did not always follow his own coy
Wo caro not how fast tlio man,
who walkjcarefully round th
looks at rhe axle and
a know