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BLOOD POISON! 100 Bottles of Another Blood Medi cine Used-No Relief Until £,8.8 Was Usttl llauftov, li \ , .tunc Utli, itWil. Buiou lUl.x <V; -Vonr 11. It 11. has work il on uie like a clitfhu. Three bottled liave '•< ms more good than all doctors and 100 otilesof the incest n<>t<d remedy. lam get -114, well rapidly. .U! ulcershealed, nt aching f my' botiPH, no pain* m xnv back, amLjiiV kiu is becoming clear. The 'effect, t HrW. ti. n ray kidneyn is something woDdoflnil. My tiieuds are astonished. My family ; ys it i tin* only mrtUoiuo I ever used suited o ray case. I would take /jdeaaure in eorrea ■omling with any one intvreHtol. as I can’t mdp praise■ /;. P. Indeed it is a great lilt ah! Punt- r. Give am i; w address vrho may nail for i\ A. V. \V. Address, BLOOD BALM ( 0., Atlanta, (i4i r. r v Summerville,mis. fwlah Cured Alter Scvfriil’hvsifiaß FIILF.P. - On tin 2Sili dav of April, 1883, Willium Spa look, 12 year# Of age, prist nted himself to Dr. Gillani. down ing to lui<>w if 11. li. It. would tore him. lit lives on Dr. L. A. Guild's idaoe, near th etm* lory, and the ease is well known ly Dr, Guild, who lias particularly noticed it. The Inn had a foul scrofulous nicer involv .ng the entire elbow joint, w ith which he had been afllietcd over twelve months. It had de stroyed the h>iiH*ilicittl structure, and was fast approaching the deeper tissues. He could not bend the arm. and had strong indications of the same ithVroiH condition of the shoulder. Tvo physicians of the city had treated the ease, but Without any perceptible change in his condition. He was placed upon the treatment of li. li. li , and one single bottle (Mired the foul nicer and restored the fast de generating condition of the child, and lie ir now enjoying the finest of health. 'i bis is a plain mid unmistakable ease of well defined scrofula, and recognized as such, • nied with one single lottle of B. B. 8., and i take pleasure in asking any interested party to address Dr. 1. A. Guild, Atlanta, (la., on he subject relative value of the medicine in If,one wall defile and ease of scrofula can la? cured, othe rs can be cured also. BLOOD BALM Op., Atlanta, Georgia. Hold in Summerville, by IS THAT SO? Yts, it’s u fa. t. that out large bottle of B. B. Ji - ring only -1 i warranted to produce ar much remedial effect ’it the cure of ail Blood JVisnu as three bottles of tin most famous Mood medicines of the day. Yea, three t ■ e : that's th- way w put it. and we are at l< • Im* k our word with sinfhi ; cNidewee. it. I*. It i- the (juick blood n-mfdy. and there is m mistake about it. The woof is printed the fiat has gout forth the tocsin has been sound ed, and "In that hath ears to bear, let bin V — c 1 |T hew Home Q. v^ingVv!^ o|^a®i e p5iP<F no EQ uAt Z&CJIc NEVBUSifiuaoiEG * 30 UNION SQUARE NEWYORK 0*' CA <? 0 0 * **<?*. ILL. MASS GA. fOR SALE BY PH A* U U fc CAIN, BGMMERFIELD, GA, POO POifSOfflcc orders from all portions of tie eoantry will • a r'l**/ IJONKOOINE, the only wife, q-ilfk and positive care for n ute u:id chronic Conorrli -a a:i<l < Ueet ever u?cd. < urea offer tc<S under five days, requiring no internal remedies, no chan-re of diet, or lots of time. Ifourtlon <l.*s;roy and antagonizes every of venereal poison with vhUh it eo.riea in con tact, and is harmless to healthy parts iijp-jjraorrflyrT nrnmr ‘t> 9 POO A Pot-Oftiec order for?!.oo will bay ’ three bottles of IJ<>NKOOIN'K, the only harmless vegetable compound ever offered \ hich positively cures awl pre vents t!i* ‘ contagion of an v and all ve nereal diseases. The constant, persevering and uni versal use of this re:.-yly would effect* ually wipe out all venereal diseases from the f ■e of tli? earth. O. and G. can 1 !;her be cv utr.-o I nor exist when iti* U: feuse it destroys by mere contact. Halim - nil pain,sab dues t!i“ inilitmr.mtiou and promotes quiet slumbers. poo A well known railroader writes as follows: Atlanta, Fetj'y el. I vi ''- Bonkodu'* Co.:—“ lea i ' v y V* ! ( commenced the t I* ( 'd / for a bad case of 0. wh i- h i A the skill and luedhin. oi ;-b; *• cions,and three hou 1 -* : ' - . .and and well. I 10-..notime, i |d ■ remedy and did not chan,!/.- . r It U a U -' -iny to those wh >se ! -,h are not bright.’' Discard ell capsules. co;-j< etc*,and dsethat which never in: and will keep you cured for liie by a* dug R preventive. I One bottle fI.M. or three tor tif* Sold by drcggLt; on. eelpt of price. ISONKOCiN'E 0r,.., 7S> VVUtUihaU s-wt. A.iaiitu, Cia, €1 )t' £htmmcrt)iUc ©ujettc. VOL X. ALONE. I mis* you, my darling, my darling; The embers burn low on the hearth; And stilled is the stir of the household, And hushed is the voice of its mirth ; The rain plashes fast on the terrace, The winds past the lattice, moan; The midnight chimes out from the minster, And I am alone. I want yon, my darling, my darling, I am tired with care and with fret; I would nestle in silence beside you. And all but your presence forget, In the hush of the happiness given To those, who through trusting have grown To the fulinoss of love in contentment; But I am alone. 1 call you, my darling, my darling, My voice echoes back on my heart; 1 stretch my arms to you in louging, And lo ! they fall empty apart; I whisper the sweet words you taught me, The Words that we only have known, Till the blank of the dumb air is bitter, For 1 am alone. I need you, my darling, my darling, With its yearning my very heart aches The load that divides us weights harder I shrink from the jar that it makes. Old sorrows rise up to beset me; Old doubts make my spirit their own, Oh, come through the darkness and save me, For I am alone. A HAPPY CHRISTMAS. BY WILLIS H. OOOKE. It was just one week before Christ mas. Soft and satin-white the snow layover the fields about the old court; like tiuy drops of blood, the scarlet holly-berries gleamed through the woods, and the avenue of black-green pines seemed to fold their drnidical garments at Hint them like a row of solemn old sentinels, scarcely bending their heads to the rush of the stormy west winds. Lulu Ripley sat in the great, orioi window that faced the west, her cheek leaning in her hand, and her great dark eyes fixed, with unseeing lustre, on the steel-blue surface of the frozen river, where the orange shine of the sunset mirrored itself like a pool of gold. And ms she sat, there came a tap at the door. ‘‘Come in!” said Lulu, almost impa tiently, as if it were an annoyance to her even to be disturbed. It was Kmma, the apple-cheeked maid. “Please, miss,” said Emma, smooth ing down her white-frilled apron, “Simon has just come from the woods with a wagon-load of mistletoes and holly and princess-pine, miss, and lie says, where will you be pleased to have it put ?” “Nowhere,” retorted Miss Ripley. “I want no meaningless decorations about my house.” Emma started. “But, miss, it’s only one week from to day, and ” “I shall keep noChristmos this year !" said Miss llipley, sharply. “Why should I? It is only a name to mo now.” And she dropped her head on her hand once more, with a great lump ris ing in her throat, as she rememliered last Christmas, when Will Graham was at her skill, his strong, loving arms about her, his tender voice in her ears. “We’ll keep next Christmas just in this merry, old-fashioned way, God willing,” he had said. And then he had gone away on that long voyage, and his vessel had been wrecked in sight of land, off the cruel reefs of The news had come when the first snow-storm folded its wings of pearl about the bleak landscape—and Lulu Ripley hail never held her head up since. “Please, miss,” said little Emma, when she came in to light the cluster ol candles that stood in a silver stem on the table, and heap fresh coal on the tire of scarlet-glowing anthracite, “conic 1 I go home for Christmas day ?” , “No 1” said Lulu, shortly, “you can not. Why should I be inconvenienced for your silly revels ?” “It you please, miss, mother is tc “No! I tell you no!” said Luiu “And let that be sufficient.” Emma crept out, abashed and deject ed, and Miss Ripley felt a sort of gloomy satisfaction in Slaving quelled the girl’s fresh enthusiasm. “Christmas 1 ’ she repeated bitterly to herself. “I have nothing to keep Christ mas for! Heaven has held back the drop of sweetness from my cup, and not all the chiming of every church bell in the laud can make me thankful 1” As tlio dusk deepened and the shad ows began to darken mysteriously over the great echoing inius of the old court, Mi s Ripley rose aud began paciug up and down Ihu corridors, wringing her bauds and moaning, like a restless ghost, until at last she paused in the \'iiy Spot where Will Graham had stood ..early a yeft)? ago, when he bado ber farewell—a spot where the ‘ reflection of the faint starlight through the stained glass casemeuis threw a quivering crim son cross ou the waxed walnut floor. "Oh, my love, my darling!” she wailed aloud, looking wildly up into the serene heavens, “car, you hear me from the oild of dreams and shadows ? Can you ■ sten to the pulses of my breaking keait ?” And as she melt there, all alone with her great sorrow, she could hear the ser vimts talking 4 the room mg idly, as servants will talk. SUMMERVILLE. GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 12, 1883. “Put up plenty of berries over the door, Simon,” said Emma’s chirping, birdlike voice. “If Misti Luly don’t want ’em, we’ll have it look like Merry Christmas down hero, see if we don’t !” “And don’t blio want not a single thing?” Simon demanded. “Why, we couldn’t fasten up enough greens for her years back. What’s tho reason of her changin’ 1 f her mind ?" “I don't know,” said little Emma, making a great rustling among the heaps of crisp evergreens. “ Pine ladies does take such queer notions sometimes. Oh, Simon, I wish 1 was as rich as Miss Lulu 1” “Wishes is cheap,” said Simon, his voice proceeding from tlio height of a step-ladder, and sounding curiously muffled, as if his mouth was full of nails. ‘ ‘ Ever hetu-d the old proverb : ‘lf wishes were horses beggars would ride ?' ” “ Never rniud your proverbs,” retorted Emma. “There, you’ve got that gar land all orookod ! But I wish I was rich, all the same.” “ What would you do with your money ?” questioned Simon. “Such lots of things," said Emma. “You heard about—Bank failing last week, didn’t von ?” “I heird it,” said Simon, between the clicks of liis hammer. “Old Man-able, our neighbor, had live hundred dollars in it to pay oft the mortgage on his house,” went 011 Emma. “ He'll lose it all now, and Widow Portage had saved up forty dollars—n dollar at a time—to buy a sewing machine. She put it in— Bank for safe keeping, and now it isn’t likoiy she’ll ever have a sewing-machine. Then there arc tho live little Ohipleys, who can't go to the Christmas tree or church, because they liavo no shoes, poor lambs ! And lame little Billy Powers is so sure that Santa Clans will bring him a wheeled chair, because ho lias prayed for it every night for a month. Mrs. Powers cried when she told me of it, for she says as how it’ll be such a disappointment. Wheeled chairs cost twenty dollars, and poor Mrs. Powers hasn’t twenty cents ahead in the world. And old Miles Stimpson and his wife, as is going to tho poor-house next week, will have to keep their lost Christ mas without so much as a peel; of coal or a bit of butcher’s meat. Oh, dear ! what lots of trouble there is in Ibis world !” And Emma drew a long sigh. “ f know that,” said Simon, gruffly. " Hand me up some more of them cedar houghs. We can’t help it—can we?” “No, of course not,” said Emma, sor rowfully. “But if I was as rich as Miss Lulu, I could find such lots of ways to spend money. That’s what I mean, Snnon.” “ ‘lf I'iohes were horses beggars would ride,' " chanted Simon, in a high, monot onous sing-song. “Ain’t that about enough greens for this room?” Lulu Ripley had listened to tlio con versation, mechanically at first, but with gathering interest as little Emma cliat lered on. Anew light hail dashed across the brooding darkness of her brain. “I nm wretched myself,” she thought, “but that is no reason why I should not help to heal tlio sorrows of others. God helping me, this shall he a merry Christ mas to someone in tiiis world !” She wont back to her room and rang the boll. “Emma!” said she, gently, “Miss !” said Emma, guiltily, feeling of her head, which was powdered over with loose sprigs of cedar and stray holly-berries. “I have changed my mind. You may go home to your mother for Christmas Day, if you wish.” “Thank 'eo, miss, kindly! " snid Emma, brightening up at once. And she ran breathlessly down stairs, lo trumpet forth her delight to the assembled house hold of the kitchen. * * * * * * * Golden and glorious tho sun of the blessed Christmas morning rose up from behind the snow-glistening hills. From a thonsand church-spires the clang of rejoicing bells greeted it, from a million holly-garlanded homes tho voices of little children bado it welcome—the sacred httle ones whom Christ Himself holds ever dear in His heart, ns He held the babes of Bethlehem in nis arms, eight een centuries ago ! Tlie Widow Portage had been aroused unwontedly early by the joyful cries of the three blue-nosed little Portages, who were as well pleased with their penny wooden toys, home-made cakes aud one tipple apiece as if they had fallen heirs to a whole ship load of automatic French marvels. As she unbarred tlie door, to get a pail of water to set tlie kettle boiling, she 1 tarted back. “Good land o’ Goshen !” cried Mrs. Portage, who was rather given to old fashioned expletives; “what's this ?” It was a big pine packing-box, ou the very threshold of her door—a huge, inex plicable mammoth of a thing, labeled : “One Hewing Machine, “From the Factory oi Messrs, D—and P , “For Mrs. Malina Portage, “Christinas, 1878. “It ain’t true,” feebly cried Widow i’ortage, holding on to the door-handle for support. “I'm a-dreaming yet. A sewin’ machine ! For me ? Some of | you pinch me, children, to make sure I am awake.” Mrs, P. had settled this problem to her entire satisfaction, when old Mur- 1 rabiu euute hobbling across tho tOful, waving something over ids head. i “Look a-here, Miss Portage !” bawled he, in the high treble of age. “It’s Santa Claus, as true us you live! We ore all children ag’in, an' the old chap with tlio fur cap nu* tho team of rein deers is around at his old tricks ! A iive-liuudred-dollar bill, sealed up iu a yaller envelope, ami poked under my door, iu the dead o’ night, an’ tin pickin’ It up for waste-paper ! It’s the Lord’s own mercy ns I didn’t burn it up, to set Iht- kindlin’s a-goiu’, afore I seed wlmt it •was ! Labeled ‘John Mart-able. Eso.. to pay off the mortgage. Christmas, 1878.”’ “Well, I never !” said tho Widow Por tage. “Jest look what I’ve got.” John Mart-able put on his spectacles and stared harder than ever. “Woll, now!” quoth he, “I am heat. I must go right homo and see what the old woman Inis got to say to that.” Little lame Billy Powers, waking up to the chill consciousness that it was Christmas morning, and that ho had but a scanty allowance of bed-clot I tea, sat up and rubbed his eyes before lie quite realized the fact that Lis mother was -calling him. “Billy! Billy; I say! Make haste down aud sec what Santa Claus has sent you. God bless him ! You’re very rich, joy son—you’re very rich !” And fiying headlong down stairs, iu his tattered night-gown, as fast os his poor crooked limbs would allow him, Billy Powers behold a cosy wheeled chair of black walnut, trimmed with crimson plush, with a side apparatus, whereby he might convey himself from place to place at his own will. No more aching hones —no more painful limping along tho dusty road—no more lagging behind the other children. Billy laughed aloud in the plenitude of his delight, while Mrs. Powers, seated on a broken splint-bottomed rocker, cried almost equally loud. “I don’t know who there is iu all this wide world," Bobbed Mrs. Powers, “to think of me and you, Billy. But who • vev it is, I hope the good Lord will re turn it onto their bosom, heaped up and r.tuuiug over.” When Moses Chipley, the eldest of the family of four who were detained at home in a state of involuntary blockade) 011 account of the unsettled bill at the shoemaker’s opened the door to obtain it satisfactory snowball wherewith to anoint tlio faces of his four sleeping brothers mid sisters, ho bounded back again like a magnified Juck-in-it box. “Mother,” gasped Moses, “there’s Biitliiii’ there—a basket! And I’m mortal sure 1 seen a tin steam engine anda doll’s legs a-sticking out ov it !" “Oh, get out, I” cried the incredulous Mrs. Chipley. “Doll’s legs and steam engines, indeed 1” By this time, tho namesake of tho great rtfler of Israel had made a second sortio, mid, bringing m a gigantio basket, emptied it on tho kitoheu floor. “Five pairs o’ shoes!” bawled Mrs. C., heedless of the herrings that were scorching over the ti iv. “A doll!” shrieked little Jemima. “Hooray! Skates 1” yelled Moses. “Picture-books!” ohimed in the twins. “A tin ingin and a train of tin cars !” cried little Joe, the youngest, and chub biest, and dirtiest of all. “And flannen and oaliker enough for all creation !” said Mrs. C., in delighted amazement. “Lord save us ! it’s like the miracle the parson rends about Wherever could they have come from ?" Old Miles Stimpson lay late in liis bed that morning. Not that it was liis usual wont, hut old Miles had been distanced in tlie race of life, and somehow got dis couraged of late. “Where’s the use of gettin’up,” said Miles, dolefully, “with never a spark of tiro to warm me, oml nothing in the way of good cheer to keep Christmas with?” But his old wifo could not so readily overcome the habit of years. “There’s the last o’ them chairs father gave me when we went to housekeepiu’," said she, ‘lt’s all broken and worn, and it’ll serve as well as anything else to mn.se a little hlaza to warm our old hones. I kiinl o’ kept it for tho sake of old times; but if we'ro goin’ to end out days in (ho ‘House,’it won’t do us no good there. And p’rhaps there’ll boa knotty log iu tlie wood-shed to help it along.” But presently Mrs. Stimpson came trotting back witli wide-open eyes aud toothless mouth to correspond. “Get up, father—get up!” cried she. “Something’s happened !” “It ain’t the house afire, is it ?” croaked Miles, from under the bed clothes ; "’cause that wouldn't bo so un comfortable on such a day as this!” “There’s a ton o’ coal in tho wood house !” oried Mrs. S. ; “ and a load o’ kiudlin'-wood, and a turkey bangin’ up, and a basket o’ potatoes, and a peck o' I cranberries, and tea, and sugar, and— ’’ “ Old woman, you’re crazy !” said Miles sitting up in bed. "Come aud look for yourself 1” said Mrs. 8. “Who sent ’em?” demanded breath less Miles. “The Lord knows!” piously respond ed his ancient helpmate. “Oh, husband, we can keep out of the poor-house for another month at least!’’ And Mrs. 8. wiped the tears of glad, ness from her poor, rheumy old eyes-- eyea that had been dark anti brilliant once as Lulu Ripley’s own. * * ♦ * * * The ruddy firelight was penciling itH shifting arabosquea upon tlio drawing room walls, where Lulu’s own tremu lous hand had hung up a tiny cross of ivy and hemlock twined together, and upon the table lay the materials of her illuminating work—a half-completed text : “Though Ho slay me, yet will I trust iu Him.” Thus she sat musing, until the unex pected apparition of Emma—round eyed, and rosy with her long walk—dis turbed her. “I’m sure, miss, I beg pardon for cornin’ iu without the boll bein’ rung for me!” fluttered she; ‘‘but there lias been such doin’s down in the village! Please miss, it can’t ho miracles, nor yet it Can’t lie Hunts Claus —but what is it ?" Lulu smiled quietly to herself. “ Tell me what it is, Emma, ” she said, “and then I shall he abetter judge.” And Emma told tho story of tho glad hearts everywhere—and of the good gifts that had come to the widow, and the fatherless, and those that, were ready to perish. “Emma,” said Lulu, kindly, “listen to me. It was 1 that sent those things.” “ You. miss?” “ Yes, f. I heard you, a week ago, tclliug Simon about all those poor peo ple, and I made up my mind that, out of my abundance, I could spare some thing to them,” " God bless you, miss !” faltered Emma. “And I only wish you could see how glad and happy they all are 1" And Emma tripped away, to answer a peal at tho hall bell, while Lulu, who lived as secluded a life as a nun, aud neither saw nor expeoted visitors, sat looking druamily into the lire. “Lulu r She started with a wild cry, half joy, half incredulity, and there, standing on the threshold of the door, she beheld Will Graham— Will Graham, alive and in tho flesh. Ho oamo forward witli glad, sparkling eves aud outstretched hands. “Perhaps I should not have beeu so abrupt, my darling,” lie said, “but 1 could not help it. I hungered aud thirsted so to see you again. Oh, how I have prayed and longed that I might rencli here by Christmas Day !” Aud 110 told her how 110 had lain foi dead upon the cruel rocks; how a kind wrecker had detected some faint signs ol life and carried him to shelter; how months of brain fever had enfeebled him, until the flume on life’s altar hud burned fuint and dim, like a flickering spark; of liis convalescence and home ward journey. “My own precious one,” he murmured, "God lias given us hack to each other, even from the very gates of death ! lion shall wo ever thunk Him for the great happiness of this Christinas Day?’ And Lulu Ripley know that God hud in deed heard her prayers, and answered them through the sunset glory of the Christmas evening. And of all who re joined over their Christmas gifts tlml and iy she was the happiest. Why Georgians Won’t Steal. I have been living in Georgia seven years and have never had but one visit, from a beggar. I have never looked my frontdoor at night. My family some times go from homeona visit toa neigh bor and stay all day and leave the house unlocked, and nothing lias ever been stolen that, we know of. My stable and corn-crib is never locked. No lionester people never lived than live around ns. My opinion is that our people are most too lazy to steal and wouldn’t go after corn unless it was shucked and shelled and sacked. I believe that if I was to put a bag full of nice corn out at my front gate some fellow would take it and carry it off; but they won’t go to the crib after it. I t is 100 much trouble. Bayard Taylor tells of a canton in Switz erland where a merchant marks the price of bis goods and goes off to his iitlle farm and leaves the store open, and when a man wauls anything he goes into the store and measures it or weighs it and puts the money in the drawer. That is a good way and saves clerk hire, but 1 wouldn’t advise our merchants to make Uio experiment for fear of acci dents. The books might not exactly balance when ho took account of stock. —Bnx A iu\ Story of a Tame Fox. In a number of the Newcastle obur ctnf, toward the end of the last century, there is a curious story of a tame fox which had been brought up from a cub at the White Hart Inn at Bridgwater, where he had been trained to officiate as a turnspit. The wild strain breaking out, he one day escaped, got away to Sedgmoor, and made sail havoc among a flock of geese. A pack of hounds chancing to ho out, found him in covert, and the fox, breaking, led them a Jong and devious chase, but always making for the direction of his old home. Ho linally leaped the fence of his mistress’s garden, and, entering the kitchen, darted to the spit and began to perform bis office quite unconcernedly. The cook, with whom he was a great fa vorite, hid him with her petticoats, at the same time beating off the hounds, llut this, we are told, ‘ ‘would have been unavailing if the huntsmen had not whipped them off, and, after a chase of nearly thirty miles, left this unlicensed poulterer to his domestic occupations,” NU 17. ADMIRAL PORTER’S HE FORT. lie liiin No 111 ethi 11 lo him About Om- l(o ten Old Niivy mid the New ( riiUm, Admiral Porter, tho Admiral of the navy, in his annual report criticises the proposed new cruisers in some resis'ets. He says: "111 case of our having a war with any foreign power, all the coaling stations ol tho world would bo closed against us. Hence the necessity that we should build vessels having full suil and steam power, so Unit (lioy could make good speed cruising under sail with fires banked, ready at a moment’s notice to get up steam.” He Nays the Chicago, for example, would not movetbiougli (lie water under the small amount of canvas she will he able to spread, except in a very fresh breeze. There is no reason why a cruis ing ship-of-war should not he of full power in sails and masts. Ho adds; “I um not an advocate for extremes, but I am certain that no ship will be a first-class cruiser unless Hhe has sail enough to send her thirteen knots through tho water off t lie wind mid ton nots by tho wind.” He says we should build a class ol swift vessels like the Oregon mid Alaska, The report continues: “I don't see any reason why Congress should not appropriate liberally for an immediate increase of the navy, ns it did iu tho time of I lie late civil war. We tire now, in fact, in ns bad a condi tion ns wo were at the breaking out ol that conflict, though then we could con form to the luw of nations, liy buying up every old ferryboat and rattletrap that could mount a gun, and using them to blockade the Southern ports. If Spain, the least formidable of maritime na tions, went to war with us to-morrow blio would sweep our gradually increas ing commerce from the ocean liy setting alloat the large, swift steamers she could buy in Europe, aud wo could not prevent it. Onr vaunted home squad ron, and the six tugs which one of our statesmen declared a great auxiliary to our naval force, would retire under Sandy Hook or tlie friendly guns of Fortress Monroe, mid he obliged to look quietly on while wo were being de spoiled, unless they chose to add to the laurels of the despoiler by offering t hem selves upas a sacrifice, In the end we would no doubt get the better c f our an tagonist, but would that satisfy the country for a commerce destroyed or re pay our people for ravaged coasts mid burned cities ? For with nil the new appliances for destroying human life and property, the horrors of war are likely to he greater than anything we Lave ever imagined. IVilli (lie private workshops wo have in this country we could build twenty largo ships in two years. How much better it would be for ns logo to work and build 11 set of vessels for tho immediate wants of the navy. “There iH not 0110 of onr ports that lms any defence against even an enemy of very inferior character. There is not a iiarlior in the country where an ordi nary ironclad cannot pass the batteries, choosing their own time for so doing, Hoitapnears Hint bur army defences are in the sumo category as those of our navy. It is, therefore, indispensable that both should forthwith take anew departure to insure that effectual pro tection to our countrymen which they have a right to demand.” Komnnlfc Story of a Cemetery. The Baltimore Green Mountain Cem etery has a most romantic history. Fifty years ago it was the hn]>j>y home of the Oliver family, which consisted of the father and two children, son and daughter. The daughter, who was a beautiful girl, had many suitors, but to all did she say nay, save oue, a poor young man, of whom her father disap proved, and whom he had forbidden her to seo. He had also taken an oath that if he caught the young man on the grounds ho would shoot him. But true love not only laughs at bolts and bars, but at shot guns as well. One evening the young lady, having agreed to meet her lover at the foot of the lane, donned a suit of her brother's clothes, honing thereby to escape detection, and sallied forth. Her keen-eved father caught sight of her as she marched boldly along, and, thinking be recognized in the tres passer the young man who hod been for bidden the grounds, raised his gmi and fired. The feminine shriek which pierced the air revealed to him what he had done. His daughter was dead Ire fore ho reached her Hido, and from that day the father became a wanderer on the face of earth. He took his son and went abroad, leaving bis property in the hands of an agent, with orders to sell the homestead for a cemetery. In a short time the city purchased all the grounds, and the body of the murdered girl was the first oue to bo buried there. Tije Pinchbeck family, of Austin, is considered oue of the meanest, stingiest, and clobo fisted of any iu Texas. One night anew baby made its expeoted ap pearance in the Pinchbeck family, and when Johnny Fizzle top hoard the news, he said: “Golly ! won’t that baby besui - prised when it coined to find out wlial kind of a stingy crowd he has got iu amongst \"—SifUny, LADIES AND POKER. POKKIi TO UR TIIK (UftlE OP THK FI’TLIUi. Wlmt n ( lilcngo <nmllcr Think* ol tlio l*o|>iilnrlly ol' tlio Gutito. [From (lie Chicago Herald.] “Are tliero many lady players bore?” “Immense numbers of them. They got stuck on the game worse than men. Why, I’ve known respectable ladies to pawn their jewelry—even their wedding rings—for money with which to set in the game,” “Do ladies play well?” “They generally play ahold game, and bluff more than men. The host players I've over met Iu society games have been ladies. Many ladies give little parties regularly, where poker is the order of the evening. And many of them make money at it. I’ve several limes been ■downed' in a game by Indies.” “How do people learn to play ?” “ They commence by playing for but tons, I lieu freeze out for ieo cream, or some other trilling treat, then penny ante for keeps, and finally drift into a game only bounded by their moans, and sometimes without that limitation. Young men who learn to play at home and in the houses of friends soon tire of a small game and visit tho poker rooms, of wliicli there are literally hundreds in the city. From those to the larger gam bling lietisos is but a step, aud iu a major ity of eafips their ruin is complete. Many a defaulting clerk dates his downfall from tho night wlion he first opeuod the festive ‘jackpot’ for the limit—five oeuts —and many a woman lias been driven, or rather drawn, to the bad through the seductions of that game where ‘it’s all in tile draw.’ ” %■ “Is the interest in tho game on the in eiease?” ‘ffes; decidedly. Twenty-five years ago poker playing was a rarity in the North. Now it pervades all classes of society. 11 lias demoralized the army. Secretary Lincoln is trying to suppress it, hut with poor success. With pork anil beans it divides the American claim to originality. A native of the South, it lias gradually spread, until it is now played in every town and hamlet in tho land. It has been introduced abroad.” “To what do you attribute its popu larity ?” “To a variety of causes. It is a sim ple game with few rules, and hence easily learned, but its peculiar fascina tion lies, I think, in the happy combi nation of chance and skill; in the cir cumstance that it is not n silent game, like whist, but admits of conversation and dialling; in tho great inducements it offers to a study of character, and move particularly that one may some times by a skilful] bluff win with a much smaller hand than is held by his an tagonist.” A City on Wheels, I arrived at Barlett, D. TANARUS., about tlio middle of tlie afternoon of a lieantiful day, says a newspiqier correspondent. I found some stir and aetivity among the people of the city, hut it seemed to he the excitement incident to the emi gration of a city on wheels. The peojdo generally had abandoned all hope of ilie city, and moved their houses bodily to Devil’s Lake and other places. The houses were first lifted on to large tim bers of sufficient size aud strength to bear the weight of the house. These timbers were then suspended under two monstrous freight wagons on either side of the building; four largo horses or oxen were then bitched lo the wagon ou each side, and, Hie road to Devil’s Luke being across a smooth prairie, the teams were able to move along easily with a fair-sized building. Home of them,with the teams attached, presented to my mind sights most mag nificent. It was the first time that I had ever seen 11 city moving on wheels. I had seen people moving on it large seale iu their so-called “prairie-schooners,’’ but tlio sight was tame compared with this. I thought of a remark I once heard to the effect that “the approach of a train of ears drawn by a powerful engine was it magnificent sight to be hold,” and I thought to myself a road lined with two-story houses, moving to the music of the steady tread of teams of eight powerful oxen, was a sight equally magnificent. Aud such was the ate of the once proud city of Bartlett. Rejected. —The citizens of Oshkosh, Wis., subscribed #I ,OOO and gave it t the manager of the Northwestern Fair i consideration of their rejecting an ofl'e of 91,000 from a wheel of fortune mai lo be allowed to run his wheel on th fair grounds. Nerve-Life and j/igor - HHBTOHHD,- t~< This cut show* the E3 Howard Electric *H| Magnetic Shield a8 applied over the Kid _q f Mr iteysanil Nervo-vlial jM centers. Tno only ap- Dllance made that A r ills every part of r the body, nnd tlie a wa* 1 only one needed tc K \ . 1 M \ 1 POSITIVELY CURB I **• JEL I Kidney Disease R -up J It lieuiiiatisni, 1 OF ■ FIE I Dyspepsia lAfs __ the worst catjes ol ID Dl" Aif SI Seminal Weak >]PQUl||V*j| ness, Gxhaus (lon, linpoten IRSSw E’mESj&st . If U i nessoftheUrino 1 w (.cnltttl Organs l Patented Feb. 25, 1879. j m YOUNG WEN, from eurly indiscretion, lack nerve force and fall to attain strength. MIDDLE-AGEI) MEN often lack vigor, attribut ing it to the progress of years. The MOTHER, WIFE and MAID, suffering from Female Weakness, Nervous Debility and other ail ments, will find it the only cure. To one and all we *uy that the Shield give* * net urul aid in a natural way _ WITHOUT DRUGGING THE STOMACH. Warranted One Year, and llio be appliance made. Illustrated Pamphlet. THREE TYPES OF MEN, also Pamphlet for Ladies only, sent ou receipt ox Cc, sealed; unsealed, FREE. American Galvanic Cos. t OFFICES!t\ B s^M^r