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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