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The Greoi-o-ia Weekly v THE TELEGRAPH. MACON, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1869. In Dresden there is said to be an iron egg, the history of which is something like this: A young Prince sent this iron egg to a lady to whom he was betrothed. She received it inher hands and looked at it with disdain. In her in dignation that he should send her such a gift, she cast it to the earth. 'When it touched the ground * spring, cunningly hidden in the egg, opened, and a silver yolk rolled out She touohed a secret spring in the yolk, and a gold en .chicken was revealed; she touched a spring in the chicken and a crown was found within; she touched a spring in the crown, and within it was found a diamond wedding ring. There is a moral to this story, and that is, it will not do to trust “outward appearances." The German Flag.—The new German flag does not seem to meet with much favor. It is composed of three horizontal stripes of black, white and red, in equal widths. The war flag for the navy is black, St. George’s cross on a white field, with the mercantile tricolor in the upper corner. The postoffioe flag is like the latter, with the addition of a curled post horn in the lower corner. The mail packets are obliged by an absurd order to carry this postoffice flag as their national flag. The steamship companies are very indignant at the order. The National Banks.—A Washington letter says: “It is believed that at the next session of Congress the national banking act will re ceive a thorough overhauling, and that greater restrictions will be imposed upon the banks.— Some of them, especially in large cities, are known to have violated the act of Congress to such an extent as to warrant the Secretary of the Treasury in taking away their charters. No action, however, will be taken until Congress meets, when the whole question will be opened up by petitions from merchants and others who have suffered from the conduct of the banks in using their funds for speculative purposes.” A box containing 21 bales of cotton was burn ed at the depot of the Montgomery and West Point Railroad, at Montgomery, on Monday. But one bale of the cotton was saved undam aged, and about one-half the balance is said to have been rescued in a damaged condition. The door of the car was open, and it is supposed the fire was communicated by a spark from a pass ing locomotive. The Mail understands the en tire train would probably have been burnt but for the use of one of the patent fire extinguish ers. More Rolling Stock fob the Brunswick and Albany Railroad.—The Savannah News, of Tuesday, says a large and magnificently built passenger car, drawn by ten splendid mules, passed our office yesterday morning en route for the Brunswick and Albany Railroad. It is a substantial and faithful exposition of the work of Southern (Georgia) mechanics, and will ma terially strengthen the road for which it has been built. Hawkinsville Cotton Market.—The Dis patch, of yesterday, says prices are about the same, with a slightly upward tendency. Below will be found the shipments by railroad and re ceipts at the warehouse for the week ending the 19th instant: Bales Shipments to date by railroad 198 Receipts to date at warehouse 81 Total receipts 279 A Washington dispatch says: Mr. E. B. Washbume, Minister to France, estimates that $15,000 in gold will be required to meet his con tingent expenses in Paris during the next fiscal year. His salary amounts to §17,500. There are not wanting those who, in view of this hand some estimate, rather sarcastically recall the vehement speeches on economy delivered by him in tho House of Representatives. A New York Judge has directed the Grand Jury to inquire if the recent gold combination in Wall street was not a violation of the law, making it a criminal offence for twenty or more persons to conspire together to commit any act injurious to trade or commerce. The New York Times backs this up by calling on the Grand Jury to indict the Gold Ring. The Santa Barbara (CaL) Press says: J. Swift, Esq., of Montecito, has raised oats this year ten feet /ugh, tcith heads two feet long, and almost a pint of oats to the head. Being in formed that “oats never do well” in this region, he sowed on three different parts of the ranch, and at different times. The results are almost marvelous, that is, for a country so unfavor able to the oat crop! The Government land surveys along portions of Gila River, in Arizona, recently disclosed ruins of elaborate structures bearing evidence of an obliterated race that apparently possessed considerable knowledge of arts and manufac tures, and the sands themselves seem to have been under cultivation for centuries. The total number of graves of Federal sol diers who died in the late civil war now record ed in the printed forms published by the United States Quartermaster's Department amounts to about 193,000. There yet remain to be printed the records of about 120,000 graves, making an aggregate of 300,000, of which the name of 100,- 000 occupants will probably nevor be known. Blue Ridge Railroad.—Tho Knoxvtllo Press and Herald says: “ A part of the engineers who were engaged on tho survey of the Blue Ridge Road arrived in the city yesterday, and will, in a few days commence a survey from this end of the line, and meet the party that are now sur veying this way from South Carolina.” The Emigrant.—This is the title of a new paper, published inBoston, called The Emigrant. It is the organ of. the New England Emigration Bureau, and has for its object the encourage ment of emigration from the North and from Europe to the Southern States of the Union. “ From the Ogeechee.—Tho Savannah News Bays the annual stealing on the Ogeechee has commenced with the negroes; they entered the store of Henry Gwinn, nt Wadeville, a few nights since, and carried off every article of groceries that they could lay their hands on. West Georgia Gazette.—We are glad chronicle that this sterling journal is still in the full career of a successful prosperity. Talbot, ton is one of the richest sections of the State, and a dime invested there will return a hundred fold. •' m **' ; 1 •''• '•• The young men of Wilkes county are to have 'a grand tournament on Saturday, 30th October, when the victor will win the prize of a fine horse, as well as the privilege of crowning the Queen of •Love and Beauty. * It is reported, says the Charlotte (N. C.) Bul letin, that Generals Wade Hampton and D. H. Hill are negotiating for the purchase of the Mill tary Institute, to reopen it as a first class South ern institution. ., • -uisXrtil The fin-back whales recently paid a visit to Boston harbor. The State Fair. It is obvious that a judicious arrangement of all the complicated details of an exhibition so extensive as we hope the Georgia State Fair will be, requires much system and method as well as close attention and labor. The Tennessee State Fair, we observe, had every class of the exhibits under the direction of a. special committee, which was constantly represented upon the ground for weeks before the "exhibition. The allotments of space and locality for each class were agreed upon at a general meeting of these committees, and each particular allotment was then mapped out and fully subdivided among ex hibitors according to their convenience and ne cessities. Each department was under the sole police and supervision of its appropriate com mittee, and all conflicts between exhibitors were adjusted by this committee, and the exhibitors looked to it for every facility necessary to a pro per exposition. Each committee kept its ac counts and records, and the whole were responsi ble to the Central Executive Committee and ac ting under their general supervision. As this business, on an extensive scale, is somewhat new to Georgia, we may be held ex cused for lack of prevision in all the cumbersome and nnmerous details essential to the harmoni ous working of the enterprise. We fear the Exec utive Committee at its last meeting here omit ted the appointment of some subcommittees indispensable to order and dispatch of business, and we think it would be well for a quorum of them to gather again at an early day and as certain the necessities of the exhibition, as time shall develops them. Indeed, their authority ought to be represented here in perpetual ses sion now until the Fair is over. There must be great care, system, close attention and inde fatigable labor to work out satisfactory results. TIio Factories to tlie Cotton. Tho manufacturers of cotton goods in Europe are devising plans whereby the factories can be placed as near as possible to tho sources of sup ply of the raw material. Thus the Lancashire manufacturers are contemplating the removal of their establishments from Manchester to the British East Indies. Tho Marseilles journals, also, are suggesting the transfer of the cotton factories from the North of France, where they are now concentrated, to the south of that coun try, so as to be nearer the supply of Indian cot ton, coming through the Suez Canal. As on il lustration of the advantages of the cotton facto ries being situated near the Mediterranean, itis stated that during the past six months the Aus trian port of Trieste received 14,3G3 bales from Bombay, while Marseilles received only CC73 bales; and the cause of this disparity, it is as serted, arises from the fact that the cotton man ufactories of Austria are nearer to the coast than those of Franco. The reduction of the freight charges on tho raw cotton, as affecting the cost of manufacture, has also been under sideration in the United States, and the mer chants of Memphis and other Southern cities are invitiDg the co-operation of Northern capi talists in the work of building factories as near as possible to tho cotton field.—Charleston New. What advantages will American manufactur ers enjoy when they adopt this policy! Here, in tho South, they will not only find themselves right along side of the cotton fields, bnt they will also find far more economical and therefore better water power. The cost of a single North ern dam built to withstand the terrible pressure of the ice gorges of that climate in the spring will oftentimes construct the whole factory in the South—dam and all. Hero, too, they will have a far better climate and for a time, at least, cheaper labor. Why should Northern manufacturers hesitate to avail themselves at once of these advantages ? Mercer University. Editors Telegraph : The following appears in your paper of this morning: Removal of Mercer University.—The Geor gia Baptist Convention, at Greensboro, on Fri day last, passed the following resolution, by a vote of 65 to 5: Resoleed, That it is the opinion of this Asso ciation that the most efficient means of advan cing the prosperity Of Mercer University, is to forever discountenance the agitation of its re moval from its present location. The Georgia Baptist Convention has held no session since April last, and will not hold anoth er until next April. Its meetings are annual. It was the “ Georgia Association,” one of the constituent members of the State Convention, that passed the above resolution. It may be well to state in this connection, that six or seven district associations have past votes favoring the removal of the University. I shall be obliged to the papers which pub lished the above resolution if they will also pub lish this explanation. E. W. Warren. Macon, October 21. .. .-m.- Iron-Clad* iu the Golf. The Savannah Advertiser notices tho arrival at Tybee, of the brig James Thompson, from Philadelphia, with coal for the iron-clad Dicta tor, which sailed from New York on Tuesday last, and says tho monitor Puritan was also coal ing in Philadelphia, and is now on her way to Key West. These and active preparations at he Northern Navy Yards, indicate that the Gov. emmentis about concentrating a large naval force in the Gnlf. The Advertiser also quotes following from the New Orleans Picayune • Ibon-Clads Away.—Wo learn, upon what wo deem reliable authority, that orders have been received by the officer in command of the iron clad fleet lying just below this city, to proceed with as little delay as possible, to Koy West, for the purpose, as is alleged, of making such re pairs as may be necessary. This fleet of five fron-clads, it will be remembered, came here from Mound City several weeks since, and the Cabans here were quite jubilant, in the belief that their arrival foreshadowed recognition to the insurgents. Since the arrival of these ves sels, boiler-makers and machinists have been busily engaged at high wages repairing boilers and engines, and everything has betokened an intention on tho part of tho Government to send tho fleet to sea. Tho order now to take the iron clads to Key West for repairs looks, to say tho least, suspicious, as they have been undergoing repairs here ever since their advent, and New Orleans is certainly a better place to lit up suck vessels than Key West. Tlic Ycrgcr Case—UnconstitntionnIHy ol'tlic Reconstruction Acts. A special to Charleston Daily News from Washington, last Monday, says the Judges of the Supreme Court decided on Saturday not to render their decision in the Yerger habeas corpus case nntil next Monday. The Republi cans profess to know that the decision is made up, and is adverse to the constitutionality of tlie Reconstruction laws. The Chronicle of to-day thinks that all of the judges, except Justices Swayne, Miller and Greer, are against the con stitutionality of the law, and is of opinion that if the decision be adverse, tho President will at once call Congress together and not wait for the December session. A newly married man down East says if he had. an inch more of happiness he could not possibly live. His wife is obliged to roll him on the floor and pat him with a brick bat every 4*1 to keep him froat being top happy. ; The Radicals and the Supreme Court A special to the Philadelphia Press from Washington, 17th, probably dictated by Mr. Fomey himself, holds this language upon the expected decision of the Supreme Court iii the Yerger case: -di.r. Of course, nobody can' authoritatively fore shadow the opinions of the Judges, but the be lief is that they will stand five to three—Grier, Swayne, and Sillier being against the exercise of jurisdiction in the matter. It is to be re gretted that Congress is not in session. The effect of a decision against reconstruction—for this is what the counsel of Yerger are looking for —will probably constrain tho executive to some extent to save unreconstructed States, like Mis sissippi and Texas, from a worse fate, almost, than the rebellion itself. His counselors are to be found In a, Republican Congress and in a patriotic people. Should the Supreme Court assume extraordinary powers, ana attempt, in utter defiance of all precedent, to overthrow the lawn intended to .restore the revolted States under republioan institutions to their relations to the government,' the executive Congress must ted a remedy for the evil. For the Macon Telegraph. \ MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD. BY SIDNEY HERBERT. NO. 1—OUR MOTHER’S GOOD NIGHT. Thy nightly visits to my chamber made,' That thou mighUst know me safe and warmly laid. William Cowper. The above couplet is taken from ,l Ltnes on the Receipt of My Mother's Picture,” which Robert Southey has called the most beautiful poem in the English language. Perhaps no similar production extant has touched so many hearts, opened up such rich and tender remem brances of childhood’s happy hours, and a fond mother’s devoted tenderness and care. Tell me, O son of a good mother, where can you find two lines in any poem, previously writ ten, that have the power to call up such deep and tender emotions? We love to remember the prayers of childhood, the hymns our mothers taught our childish lips to repeat; but there is a deeper, sweeter pleasure in the remembrance of her nightly visits, after we had gone to bed, to see that we were “safe and warmly laid.”— That word “safe” had a greater meaning then, children, than it has now, except in the country. We lived more generally in wooden houses, and had no gas lights to ensure the safety which to day surrounds the little ones in their bed cham ber. Nor were the houses, being built of wood and standing alone, and thereby more exposed to storm and wind, as warm and as comfortable in those early days. How many eminent men, like the Rev. Dr. Neale, remember with a manly pride as well as a tearful tenderness, “the old bnnk under the rafters,” and the “patter of the rain,” on the thin roof close above their little heads. Ah, those were the days of true matofnal fond ness and unwearied care of infancy and child hood. Then tho anxious, devoted mother would steal up to her dear boy’s little cot with a noise less step, that she might not disturb his slum bers, to see if he had put out the caudle without dropping a spark on the floor, and gone to sleep with all the bed clothes properly over and about him. In my own home, which was in a city, I never had such a bed-chamber as Rev. Dr. Neale remembers iu his childhood; yet the ten- derest remembrances of my now sainted moth er are connected with her “nightly visits" to my chamber, to see that the light was out and I “warmly laid,” a maternal duty she never failed to perform each night, unless a severe illness prevented. Ob, how many times I feigned sleep that I might see what she would do. And os I lay there in my little bed, to all appearances sound asleep, I felt her warm tears fall upon my cheek, and heard the sigh escape from her anx ious, loving heart as she softly kissed me good night and went back to her own chamber, there to pray in secret for her little boy. .What thoughts were in her mind; what emotions swelled her heart; what hopes and fears rose up before her as she thought of my future life. None but a good mother, who has made just such visits to her child's sleeping couch, can truly imagine. I was her youngest boy, and if I gave promise of greater usefulness in life than the others, I was more mischievous and less susceptible of restraint, so that her pride and hope of me were mingled with many extra cares and anxieties. But she always was to me the same tender, loving parent. Nothing wearied, nothing discouraged her. Nor am I the only man among the numerous sons of good moth ers who, by feigning sleep at such a time, has gathered into his heart and soul a blessed treas ure, that length of days and change of future has never robbed them of, and never can. In the words of Cowper, it “Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes lees deeply traced.” The celebrated Washington Allston—poet, author and artist—has expressed the same sen timent, in a poem dedicated to bis most excel lent mother; and with it ha3 coupled an earnest longing for the return of those “happy days." The poem was written in a foreign land, bnt his spirit, he tells us, “cleaved a thousand miles of air,” and revisited his childhood’s home, and in spired him to sing thus tenderly and lovingly of his early days and his dear mother’s tenderness: “Oh! what charm or magic numbers Can give me back tho gentle slumbers These weary, happy days did leave ? When by mv bed I saw my mother kneel. And with her blessing took her nightly kiss; Whatever time destroys, ho cannot this— E’en nous that nameless kiss I feel.” The great poet of Denmark—Beggeson—cIob es a poem fragrant with filial affection and remem brances of his childhood, (although his whole life was spent in traveling in foreign lands,) with the following pathotio stanza: “They perished—tho blitho dayB or boyhood per ished— And all tho gladness, all the peace 1 knew! Now have I but their memory, fondly cherished; God! may I never lose that too!” Happily, it can he said, that bnt few men of eminent talent and usefulness in the world, who were blessed with good mothers, ever ceased to cherish the memory of the “ nightly visits to their chamber mnde” by those fond parenta. The Rev. Rollin H. Neale, D. D., an eloquent and honored Baptist clergyman of Boston, in a letter to me, in which he speaks in great sim plicity and tenderness, says of his mother: “ What little of good I have been enabled to do oa a minister of Christ is, under God, owing to her influence. I followed her to the grave when I was hut a boy of fifteen. Bat her sweet looks, her welcome smile, her love that knew no fall, her tucking me up o’ nights in the old bunk un der the rafters, and telling me to listen to tho patter of tho rain, and say my prayers, * now I lay me,' etc., are over fresh in my memory. There is scarcely a waking half hour that I don’t think of her.” The poet Cowper also says of his mother: “Not a week passes, (perhaps 1 might, with equal veracity, say a day,) in which I do not think of her." Now why this constant remembrance of a mother who for nearly half a century has been sleeping in tho silent tomb ? Because, says the poet, “Such was tho impres sion which her tenderness made upon me, though tho opportunity she had for showing it was short. She died when I bad completed my sixth year, yet I remember her well; I remember, too, a multitude of thoso maternal tendernesses which I received from her, and which havo en deared her memory to me beyond expression.” The Rev. Arville G. Wheeler, in a poem full of filial piety, and in which ho portrays the character and surroundings of his early homo, thus refers to the subject of this article: “And there my bed was made, Between whoso sheets wo nightly crept, Brother and I, and sweetly slept. Our prayers devoutly said, O, sweet the bliss Of good-night kiss *u 1 1 ■ That she—so good, so tried, so meek— • ’ t Our mother, left won our cheek." .1 .< ’ , Tho venerable Amos Lawrence, tho merchant prince and honored philanthropist of Boston, in paying tribute to his most excellent and re vered mother as the source of' his prosperity and goodness, thus alludes' to her “nightly visits” and religious devotions: “Her form bending oyer .their bed in silent prayer, at tho hour of twilight, when she was about leaving them for tho night, is still among the earliest recollections of her children.” The “nightly visits” made by the fond mother, of Tom Moore, the celebrated Irish poet, to her darling boy’s bedside, were of a most peculiar character, and show with what un wearied zeal she discharged her maternal duties. “As an instance,” says the poet, “both of her anxiety about my studies, and tho willing tem per with which I met it, I need Ty mention that, on more than one occasion, vnen . having been kept'out too late'at'some evening party to be able to examine me in my task for the next day, she has come to my bedside on her retain home, sad waked me, (sometime* as late as one or two o’clock in the morning,) and I have cheerfully sat np in my bed and repeated over all my lessons to her.” After such a testimony, I hardly need add, that between the poet and his mother there ever existed the most tender relations; and to her dying day he was as obe dient to her wishes, and as yielding to her judg ment and counsels, as when a little boy at her knee; for die was a very sensible and judicious as well as a gentle and loving parent, although much given to the pleasures of the world. I wish, in closing, to make an earnest appeal to those most deeply interested in the subject of this article; and one which I trust may not be unheeded. O mothers! don’t send yonr little ones off to bed in care of a servant They can have no more blessed image of yonr sweet ma ternal face, to treasure intheirheartslongyears hence, than that which yon can leave upon their memory by yonr “ nightly visits to their chamber made” that you may see them “safe and warmly laid.” Let them have the opportunity, in their later years, when they listen to that beautiful song by Samuel Lover, entitled, “My Mother Dear,” tofeel their eyes moistening with tears, and their hearts growing tender and lovingly gentle with childhood’s sunny memo ries, at the soond of the words: “ 'When fairy tales wore ended, * Good night!' she softly said, And kissed and laid me down to sleep Within my tiny bod.” New York City, 1869. Tlie Approaching State Fair. This grand exhibition of the achievement of art, science, and agriculture, promises to sur pass tile most glowing anticipations of our peo ple. It seems universally to be accepted as the first real triumph, and practical evidence of that “peace,” which alas, has been so long in coming, and is even yet imperfect To afford some idea of what the visitor may expect to be hold, wo would mention that Dr. Lewis, last week remarked, that probably not more than one-tenth of the entries for premiums, and the articles exhibited, will bo the product of the State of Georgia. Two steamers from the North will be freight ed with articles for the Fair, and it will require a long train of cars to transport the contribu tions of the great West. The largest crowd probably will be collected at Macon, ever yet assembled within tho bor ders of our State. Already the caterers for eggs, chickens, butter, and other provisions are abroad throughout tho land, and a dearth of these articles in every market enhances prices, and suggests hard times for housekeepers. The hotels and boarding houses are besieged with applicants for accommodation, and Macon will be taxed to its utmost capacity, to shelter the multitude who will swarm through her streets and cover her hills. Col. Styles on the part of the Dougherty So ciety, has already surveyed the field, and staked off the camping ground which will be occupied by tho representatives of that county. It is to be hoped that his example will be fol lowed speedily, by all who wish to bo indepen dent of tho chances and contretcmpts which will befall so vast an assemblage. Tents, stores, fuel, and every other necessary and convenience, which may be needed on that occasion, should be collected at home, and placed upon the spot in duo season by the ex ecutive committee of each county association. This will ensure comfort and content, amidst tho confusion and hardships which may naturally expected in such a crowd. Our own county will move in the matter next Saturday, and it is to be hoped that all who are not so fortunate as to bo provided for in Macon during Fair week, will co-operate with the agri cultural dub, in its measures to make adequate provision for the delegates and visitors from Randolph county. £Let us endeavor to be the banner connty of tho State, in the number, character and intelligence of onr representation. The proposed tournament will be a new and attractive feature in the programme, and many a gallant knight will poise a spear, or couch a lauco for tho honor of crowning his “ladye fair,” the qneen of love and beanty. Will not tho young bloods of Randolph enter the lists for the honor of our own county? We are not quite as supple as in other days, when as a cavalryman we contended in the field at the head and ring, but would even now, if needs be, enter the arena again, and show that the gal lantry and enthusiasm of early youth still bum within ns. What say yon, young gentlemen ? Organize forthwith, elect your captain, and let the herald proclaim upon the lists that the chivalry of Ran dolph will be there to do their devoirs, as true and gallant men. Who will respond first ?—Cuthbert Appeal. The Harvest in Europe. By mail from Europe wo have the following resume of the harvest prospects prevailing at the great food supply centres, on the first of Oc tober, as reported in Paris: 1 ' The accounts of the harvest in Germany are very unequal, varying in different districts from good to far below the average yield. On the whole the groin harvest of middle Germany was below the average; that of the Southern States was far better. From Austria we hear that the yield of com is considerably smaller than in tho last two years; the same is true of Roumania. The Russian harvest is stated to have been good, and the crops have nowhere failed so complete ly as in some places last year. The fodder is everywhere poor, with tho exception of a few mountainous districts. There has been very little clover, and both the hay and surrogate have been much injured by the unfavorable weather. On the other hand there has been a good deal of straw. Both potatoes and beets have suffered from the heat and drought of July and the rain of August. Tho disease has also appeared with more or less vi rulence in some parts. Tho hopes entertained for the potato harvest are not, therefore, high; but it is said that the beet is improving. The hops are said to be in a very poor condition, partly on account of the weather and partly from the insects and the disease, which have appearod in many gardens. Scarcely a quarter of the usual yield i3 expected. But little fruit has been gathered, and even wbat was is poor in quality. This is particularly the case with tho apples and plums. Nor will 1869 be num bered among the select vintages, ns the quanti ty of grapes is small and their quality inferior. THE GREAT FLOOD: A GRANDMOTHER'S STORY. From Lippincoltfor November.] How long ago was it? do yon ask, little Ben ny ? Sixty-one years, if it was a day. It is June, now; I was seventy-nine the tenth of last April; and that worst day of the great flood was on one other tenth of April, exactly sixty-one years be fore. It was my eighteenth birth-day, too; I remember that as well as anything else that hap- pened. For that matter, I remember it all well enough: its not very likely I shall forget such a time as that was nntil the sods cover me. Gome here to my knee, Benny, and I’ll tell yon all abont it. The country was new then—not so new that the Indians or wild animals troubled us much, for there were only a few of the Delawares very near us, and they were so muoh civilized that up to that day it was not over the stepping ■tones across the neck. On the morning of the tenth, the rain came down at first steadily, and Mr. Cardie thought he would not leave the house. Father west over to the Camp after breakfast, saying that he would re turn, as usual, toward night; and so we two spent the day alone together. I tried to talk with him and to interest him, bnt he was restive and uneasy, and half the time was idly turning over leaves or drumming with his fingers on the window-panes. It was about the middle of the afternoon, when I was wondering what I should do next (and thinking a little of poor Ben Sam ple, I believe,) that Mr. Cardie turned short around to me from the window and said, very abruptly: “I’m going back to the city to-morrow, Bes sy. I want to know if I can come back here in they cared for nothing bnt whisky; and a stray wolf or catamount was all that troubled our pigs and chickens. When I say it was a new coun try, I mean that it was pretty muoh all woods, with very few settlements, and not many people three months that’ll be the middle of July— shore after deserting us, and the °? ^ and make you my wife ? ’ j “Scot ^ den. The house had sunk eo low IK**.? the oaves was tipped clear out of wktw,??* other was three feet under. We waiteaS* 0 * slowly down the centre 0 f the tonamTttt^ was almost a mile off on either side, ^ was pot a sail nor • sign of hebTin looked at Ben, perfedSJ - 1 my despeir, and he looked backwith wT 1 *» courage. °°P* Ufl “There’s one hope yet, Bessv” a. cheerily; and his finger printed toaTo? 1 *’ floating ten rods behind us—an objecuLS** of which filled my heart with gratitude m 8?* that he had heard and had prayers. It _ . was my fatoerWriff 8 *^ oars lying in the bottom of it.’ P* along in our track as if to save t * destruction! I understood at one* w 1 was—Jacob Cardie had drawn it^n JiV spare, „ Ben looked wistfully at it, and t he went on; “.and yon re everything with his eye the distance to it? Tk! 'Oftf VTV O Von 1rn/>n* wnn^ne IihmiI Lt.L .1 •• m. AUQ in them. They were mostly along the banks of - that I want in a xfife You know you’re hand- which we clung was alternately sint Wofio this river, for most every one was lumbering or some, Bessy, and I suppose you are good. Will swaying, and the water sucked rafting; and that was what brought father here from Vermont Mother died away up among the Green Mountains; and it always seemed to me as if he couldn’t bear the old homestead af ter that He grew very restless and uneasy; you marry me when I come again ?” I never thought of myself or of my own feel- | , ominously around it _ . . ^ “This old thing can’t swim mnnv Th ings: I put all thoughts of Benoutofmy head, longer,” he said. “Can you hold on remembered my father, and said “Yes ”—noth ing more. I don’t know whether Mr. Cardie and one day he came home early in the after- would have kissed me or not: he had no chance; noon and said to me— “Daughter, I have a chance to sell this place at a bargain. Shall I do it? This hasn’t been much like home to me for two months: I think I’m wanting new scenes and new faces to blunt th. grief I have for her that’s left us. Shall wo go to Pennsylvania, Bessy? I’ve a plan to go into iEg 8 for me, for he stepped back to the window the lumber trade; and mayhap I’ll make so muoh and frowned, never speaking or nodding to Ben, money in a year or two that we’ll goto Philadel- who stood there with his hat twirling in his phia, and you'll be a lady the rest of your days, hands, awkward and abashed. He only found Shall we go, Bess ?” > his tongue when I asked himi to sit down, and Poor father! The dear, kind soul lived and then he said: Bessy, while I swim out to the skiff Jn 0 ? 11 ’ it to yon ?” He did not wait for hut lifted me to the place where he had ^ showed me how to grasp the bare jaW35® the boards had been strained off. When’ll v _ __ done this, he stopped, just as he J? We were all three of us rather ill at ease for a, let himself off into the water, and looti? 1Bg to moment. Mr. Cardie knew Ben, I suppose, and with a tender, mournful look that I « ^ 41 m8 must have heard something about his old feel- forget—no, not if I should live to h« m n , Wet infra for me. for he hnnlr firm vinilmfr cao^ W lW10 ® tour. for hardly had I spoken that word when there was a knock at the door, and I opened it to ad mit—Ben Sample himself" score—he said, “You’ll be safe in ten minutes. I hom. - God speed me, for your sake! Yet if sborid happen to either of us, that we sh<fi meet again m this world, I must tell von died with the wish nearest his heart to malje me a fine lady. I’m thankful that he nover saw it accomplished; but he did see me become ause “Nay, I can’t stop. I only came to bring yonr father’s message that he won't be home to night. The rise in the river has broken loose ful woman, and, I hope and trust, a good wife 0* great raft up at Logan’s Ford, that was to and mother. How that happened, little Benny, is the story that I’m telling you now. . Look from the north window, there, boy: I’d come and look with yon, but my rheumatism is bad to-day. No matter. Do you see that long point of land, a mile up stream, that runs out into the river ? Yes ? Well—look a little closer Bessy, that nobody has loved you asIM,^ that nobody loves you now as I do. Believ« dear, for it is true.” 6 me - ‘T know it, Ben—I know it!” i , I.put up my face to his. He benW^r S IriKRP.rf TO ft with RTlMl a Innlr — * v. havo been floated down to-morrow, and he’s Kissea me, wnn. suen a look of miehfv gone up with all hands to moor it Ho can’t be and overwhelming joy as I don’tfiajy® here to-night.” ,. man ever had before • and .... .'(29 That was awkward news for me. I had never thought of staying in that lonely place without father; and it was little consolation to. think of man ever had before; and crrinc out *d£S bard,_ Bessy—hold fast girl!’’he jumped into the river and struck ont for the skiff. 0 Mr. Cardie as a protector. Just as I had a ques- at it Farthest from the shore it spreads ont tion on my tongue, Ben spoke again. into an acre of good, high land, but the narrow nock that joins that to the shore is commonly almost as low as the bed of the stream. There You don’t know how fast the river is rising,” he said. “ Out on the stones the water is almost up tothe tops of my boots, and seems to beris- are great high stepping stones across it now, ing higher.’ that father laid there when we first came; and “Do yon think there is any danger in staying we used to walk dryshod over them when the hereto-night ?”_I asked, in some alarm. spring raised the river. I remember but one solitary time when the water covered the step ping-stones as well as the neck of land; and that was the time of the great flood. Our little house was built on that high land, “ Maybe not,” he answered, doubtfully; “but I never knew the river to be so high before.” “Ben, Ben, what shall I do?” 1 took no thought at all of Mr. Cardie, and felt no safety except from the presence of Ben. “Didn’t ont in the middle of the river—a two-story frame father send any other word ?” affair, with two rooms down stairs and two rooms np; and, after all, it took all the neighbors to raise the roof. It was an odd notion of father's, putting it there: he used to say that the day would come when he conld sell off valuable water-privileges all around his acre. That day hasn’t come vet, Benny; but sometimes, when I think of poor dear father, and all his plans and schemes for me, and of what has happened, I really think that something like Providence put it into his heart to fancy that queer little corner out there in the river, and to bnild our house there. I am going to tell yon what I mean right away. ■ After the little honse was built and furnished, watched him while the pain is my poor hands and arms was distressing sorely. I saw him reach the skiff and himself and labor carefully over its side to L in without overturning it; and when he had L complished this my stq&jth was almost gone My hands were giving, slipping-I mode o, e last spasmodic effort to retain my hold, shouted wildly to Ben. I heard the plash of oars, and his loud, cheery voice eneonragisj me; darkness overtook me as my hands slipped their grasp. Clutching at the shingles, I&) downward, down, but not to my watery e-r.f" The skiff dipt past me. Ben Sample swn snatched me from my peril, and I lay safely in “ None at afi.” !!: w ° a * y°® s ^ a y •” . - t . miniuucu uie uwa lay peril, auu 1 lay satekii After what has happened, Bessy? I shouldn’t the bottom of the boat, while his stout aria think you d wish it.” Then he must have seen rowed me toward the shore, how grieved and sorry I looked,and how alarmed “Look there!” he exclaimed; and I lools I feU, for he added right away, _ my last at the poor rid house. The roof in-A ies, I will stay Bessy, if you wish it, though and settled, the waters washed up over it ail I trust and believe there is no danger.” it sank in a wild whirlpool that sucked it don. I thanked him with a look, and before I could That was the last of our danger. We com say anything more, Mr. Cardie spoke: the shore and found a house; and before nU| ‘ Do you think there is any danger of theriv- we had a chance to take a schooner np the rira. er nnsettling the house ?” he asked. In a day or two father came up with most of hii ‘It surely will if it rises high enough,” Ben men; and such a meeting as we had! The nit replied. “Hark! hear that!” had been carried off by the flood, as Ben thoscit Generally, when the door was open, we could and two of the men had perished by drovmj I stayed at home and kept it, and father took to hear a faint ripple of the current, but it now had And when I told him the true story of onr ri51 AT. A A — — — - A Y, A I. a 1 m T~T a 1 a J a — -T n Vi AO i*oa 1 ah rl 7 A l, a A ——. —. —a ■■■ A a —a D-m * it. _ V_ _ A a. T. . a a. 1 , t , u a I iiln wt¥i The principle of co-operation is recognized both in England and the United States; bathos made no such progress in these countries as re cent statistics show in Germany. In 1866 co operative societies, for procuring ordinary arti cles of food, numbered 199; in 1867, 3IG; and in 1868, 555. There are now in Germany 1558 workingmen’s bank and loan associations; and tho whole number of co-operative societies ex isting there is estimated at about 2600, consist ing of about 1,000,000 members. In 18C8 their business transactions amounted to 220,000,000 thalers, and this they had managed on a capital 15,000,000 thalers belonging to themselves, and 42,000,000 thalers of borrowed money. While immorality and vice have of late years increased in Paris in a manner astounding to behold, and appear to be increasing every day, a greater number of persons belonging to tho higher classes havo “gone into religion” than at any former period. Going into religion means, among women becoming a nnn, and amonc men joining one of the “regular orders.” A fow weeks back Prince de Broglie turned Jesuit; a month ago a captain in the imperial navy, the possessor of a title and a good estate, laid all down and went to the Chartreuse; and this very fortnight' a nephew of Banm Hausmann, the famous Prefect of Paris, resigned a government appointment and cnteied a religious house. Pacification is the name now applied to a process of broad making recently discovered and patented in France. This method dispen ses with, the grinding of the wheat, and, it is asserted, will produce one hundred and fifty pounds of broad from ono hundred pounds of grain; .while by the old plan of using flour, pply one hundred and • twelve pounds of bread are produced from the one hundred pounds of wheat The new kind of bread is said also to be of better quality than the old, as the gluten is not decomposed and lost by tho heat of grind ing. The new mode of fermentation, it is also asserted, contributes greatly to the whiteness of the bread. , > ... ... . , t , “Mother: wants do know if you won’t please to lend her yonr preserving kettle, ’cause she wants to do np some apple-sarse.” “I would with pleasure, boy, but the truth is, the last time we lent it to yonr mother she preserved it so effectually that we have not seen it since.” “Well, you needn't be saray about your old ket tle. Guess it was full of holes when we bor rowed it, and mother wouldn’t have troubled you agin, only we seed you bring home a new one.” - . ; y . «tv 4e ■■ . .Jr ...... the woods with the loggers. He led a hard enough life from that time out till he died: summer and winter he was at work with his men—sometimes at the loggers’ camp, then hauling the logs to the river and rafting the.m down to the bay, where he sold them to the con tractors. There were weeks when he wouldn’t be at home a day but Sunday; but when he was rafting X often heard his shout on the river, and here to the bank, could see him waving his hat from the raft as it went slowly down the stream with the current. I hope I was a good daughter in those days: I tried my best to do all that I could for him. I kept the house neat and tidy, and mended his clothes; and regularly once a day I cooked a great mess, which was taken np hot to the log gers’ camp in a great tin pail that was got from the city. I was lonesome-like often enough, for there were whole days that I did not see a human being to exchange a word with, bnt Ben Sam ple, who ’most always came for tho dinner. Heigho! It’s long enough ago that I’m telling you of: and handsome Ben Sample was then hardly twenty-one. I don’t know, my boy, bnt the lads are as handsome, and sprightly, and as good now as they were threescore years ago: if I say not, it may be because I see them through an old woman's eyes, and that I can’t see the charm that I could once. However that is, I know I never saw so fine a lad, every way, as that one was. He was not over tall, nor yet short: he was of middling height, with broad shoulders and big hands, and was as strong as any two of the men—so father said. He had curly chestnut hair, and red and white cheeks, like a girl, though sun-burnt; and his eyes were great blue ones, and his teeth shone so when he laughed (and that was often) that anybody a hoarse, loud sound that was new to me. Ben in the honse afloat, he took Ben by the hand, I looked dubious as he heard it. with tears in his eyes, and begged his pnfal “I don’t like that,” he said. “Let me go for thinking that anybody conld be bettetml out and see.” such a brave, noble fellow as he had proved tin- j He was not gone three minutes, and he came self. j back with his face full of trouble. “And especially that cowardly sneak, Cardie,’ I ‘ ‘The water is within twenty feet of the door,” father added, with a savage slap of his hand oe I he said. “I don’t suppose I could wade from his knee. “Plague take me! what a foo!l| bank. We must leave here at once, would be sometimes if I had my own traj! ’ I and when you’re safe, I’ll come back and As for Jacob Cardie, I never heard a syllaUe I save some of the things. If the water gains more of him. I never wanted to. 1 am like this, all the floor will be under in an hour,” sorry that I met him, for he served to shoi nil He went ont again: I knew what for. The the difference between Ben Sample andtheKtl west foundation-wall of the house was next the creatures the world of fashion and wealth cu| river, and father always kept a skiff tied there, men. I understood, from what Ben said, that he Welladay! It’s many a long year since tb: l ment to bring the skiff round to the front and it’s many a long year that I lived as the htpxj take ns to the shore. I was putting on my hood wife of that same Ben Sample; and its uxl and shawl when he came back. His face was as many since God took him home before a I pale as ashes, and he never noticed me at first, How old are you, little Benny ? Nine, inde-i'l but looked allround the room and into father's Then he died just nine years ago: yon weal chamber. “Where’s that fellow Cardie ?” he named for him, boy, for you were bom thtl asked. I had not noticed that he was gone : he morning that he died. He was yonr own granil had been standing by the window just before father little Ben: and I can give you no betel Ben went out the last time. “I thought it,” , wish than that you may be as brave, as stroll Ben cried, and his face looked half sorry, half . and as good a man as was he. mad. “Bessy, do you know what has happened? The skiff is gone, and that man with it.” From Darbonr Connty, Alabama. I looked, terrified, into his faoe, and then fol- Clayton, Ala., October 22,1S69. Messrs. Editors: From the fact that Is*I lowed him to the door and looked out with him, j It was almost night, but what there was of day- WJC - 19i , . ,, light left showed us a mad, white-capped tor- numerous copies of your spicy andvsai.i rent of water rushing through the channel be- j paper in the hands of the citizens of this ph«, tween ns and the shore—so near to us that we j am led to think that a few lines from my pci feSSS relative to the prospects «« —. « ful to see. The rain had ceased, and I didn’t town of Clayton, would not be unscceptai.et then see how the river could have risen so; but your many readers. Such goodly reports hm I understood it afterward, when they told me reached us of your soil, climate and snpeal would have liked him. And then he was so hon- that it was all owing to a sudden thaw up in the ! - . estand so clever, and so kind and obliging, mountains, that had melted the snow in tiie gor- j advantages, (all of which I presume are trae.i| gos and poured hundreds of new streams into • spies who went forth, to viow the land, havecoj the river all at once. We looked a moment and | back—but unlike those of olden time, bnrda* 1 then came back into the room. I was afraid, 11 “confirmations strong,” instead of “Wta suppose; but notso much so as I thought at first . ,,v -w.-Jm.aI Somehow I felt a sense of security with Ben frmts > ) that several of our most estimate that before I had seen him many times~I came to like him right well; and ono day I happened to say to father thatT thonght Ben Sample was an excellent lad, and that I wished that I could have more of liis company. I never saw father look stem all of a sudden, as he did then; and I never heard him speak so stem, either. “Better leave him in his place, Bessy,” he said, very quick and sharp-like. “He’s naught but a poor lumberman, after all, and he’s not likely to be nught else. Don’t be tender with him, daughter, Ibid you not. If you’ve felt any too kina to him, you must check it in time. Have little to say to him, daughter; it’s your father’s wish. Poor Ben! There had been no talk of love be tween ns before this morning, and I do not know know that I had thought of nim at all as a lover; but by and by, after a few weeks more, when I had tried hard to obey my father’s command and treat him coldly, he lingered one day over tho great tin pail long enough to press my hand and whisper bashfnlly to me, “Dear Bessy!” I snatched my hand away and looked hard at him, Sample there that robbed the situation of all the terrors it would have had without him. I hard ly thought of Jacob Cardie, and how mean and hartless he was to abandon us so and deprive us of the means of safety, when Ben wanted to save us all together. -‘Ben will save me,” was all I could think of; and I suppose I repeated the words to myself a hundred times. Once I must have spok'en them aloud, for he said, “I will, Bessy—God willing. I will pray for strength that I may.” He knelt there on the floor and prayed, and I knelt beside him and took one of his hands in both of mine. When we arose we heard the first low washing of the water against the east side of tho house, mingled with the louder rushing and brawling of the torrent beyond. When it grew so dark that I could not see Bens' face, I lit a candle; and we sat there together in silence, I holding his hand. My heart was too full for speech, and Ben said' nothing but a word of and told him that he must never say nor do that again. He left me, looking as grieved as I ever , comfort now and then, saw another mortal look ; and when he was gone “There’s nothing for us to do bnt stay here I went out to tho log seat by the river and cried and hope for the best,” he told me once. And as though my heart would break. I did not then he added, “While there’s a hope, and know my feelings till then, but if Ben Sample when there’s none, /’Knotleave you, Bessy.” could havo seen mo that half honr! j Dear, noble Ben! I wanted to throw myself Ben did not come with the great pail after on his breast and tell him my secret, but some- that: another man took his place, and things went on in the old lonely way all the rest of the winter and through tho next spring. It was in the first week in March, I think, of that year that father bronght young Mr. Cardie to tho house. Young Mr. Curdle was the only son of thing prevented rue—I don’t know what—and I only pressed the hand that I held. There was no slackening to the river: it rose higher and higher every moment, and by ten o’clock the water was over the floor where we I I stood. Ben had carried the trunks, and the old Jacob Cardie, the millionaire, who lived in ] things I thought most of, up stairs ; and we Philadelphia, and who was contracting with fa- then took to the second story. Here we stayed ther for all his logs for years to oome. The old for two hours more, I listening all the time for man meant that young Jacob should succeed the sound of oars or voices, for I hoped that him in business in a few months; and he thought father would come and take us^off. Midnight it would be an excellent thing to send him up in- came and I grew impatient, and complainingly to the loggers’ country for a while, to get him asked Ben if he could not tell why father did not acquainted with the different kinds of lumber, come and rescue US. and the process of cutting it and getting it to “I’m afraid I can, Bessy,”-he answered with market. Father thought it would be a good a grave face. “The great raft went down the thing for himself to entertain him at the house river twohours ago: I heard the voices of the while he remained; and so, for the next five men shouting,-and don’t doubt' your father ip weeks, they were regularly at home morning carried away with the rest. But don’t be afraid and night, sleeping in the house and spending they’re all safe, I hope, and they’all get to shore the day in the woods or oni the river. But it when morning comes.” wasn’t hard to see that young Mr. Cardie grew I couldn’t help crying when he told me that, . tired of this very soon; presently he began to and I nestled up to Mm as if I had been a child, ' we can boast of, or as many lawye come Ifcck to the house iu the middle of the and ho put his strong arm around me. It was ' tors, although the latter do not get r !Ci day, and fish and shoot in the neighborhood not long after this that we felt the house set- the-'r regular practice this being a vi? ^ until night. tlmg and tipping, and not much longer when it - ,\ , v . ’ • — You'll wnnt to know what kind of a man ho careened half-way over, and was whirled away 89ctloa °* country. They, li . ( was, boy. He was palo and slender, handsome into tho river by the torrent that had been un- : largely engaged in the care of their p* enough for those that like such beanty as that dermining the foundations. That was an awful from which they derive sn abundant in men; and rather foppish with his diamond hour, my lad! Ben held one arm around me, i mtnenge amount of cotton n° ff ring and' his silky moustache. He was very and with the other hand grasped the window-sill, ^ e ^ Eafaula * by teams, as * zens are preparing to leave us and take upth-l residence hear your city; while others, Iite *1 Roman Catholic Bishops, bound for the ceu^'l council, are on the way to Rome—of coais^l mean Rome, Georgia. In either location tttl feel sure.of doing well—better than the*®! hope to do here—hence the change. I I am very sorry to record the fact, that <*■ of the most enterprising and desirable of Hi class, Mr. James Ventres, recently met v.'-Jj severe and painful injury, wMch will removal for another year, if it does not c him for life. He was thrown from his 1 wagon, by the running away of his mnkt * received a serious blow ou the hip, fr°° effects of which he is now confined tolas" and will no doubt continue to be a pen sufferer. But for this accident he won! brought to your vicinity in a few weeks and desirable family, and by bis and their® gy and enterprise, added no little to the MF which is being given to all branches ofis-* ’ in yonr midst. Now, while I hardly hope to hold oufsoa' inducements to your citizens to lead ■** migrate hither, I would have them the good men we are sending them "> Ee a good country, although 'They seek a be. ‘ where they have enjoyed nearly leges of a modem civilization. , It 5* 1016 * e . like many interior towns, not blessed " l! mediate railroad facilities, but we h ’F e '' w3 - have the iron horse snorting through ouj leys. The survey of the Montgomery faula Railroad is now under way ** Union Springs and this town, and ere 1® shall have ample ' rail facilities via the one side, and Union Springs on the ^ Few towns in the South have a larger s’ or a greater variety of well stocked storeS ^ rhottfl r lawyer*- polite, too, and he would talk -and chatter as while ho braced his feet in the corner of the city folks can; much heart or or did. ; but I never thonght there was room ; and the rising and falling of the poor the large quantities of merchandise w good feeling iu anything he said wreck under us, as the heavy current swept us back by the same conveyances, will ‘ or ilroei’ first; and Yet he seemed to like me from the along, gave me at first the feeling that we were Dro fitable revenue to the proposed rail** id poor father whispered to me ten going straight to the bottom. The wind moaned fJ , , , inert*-' * k Pl*»v fliir shrawdlr. iwtairfft. the water henf noninaf the rtlanVs. amount OI each Will DO iarg j times, if ho did once, ‘‘Play thy oArds shrewdly, outside, the water beat against the planks, and — - , Bessy, and thou’it catch Mm 1 He’ll make thee the beams cracked and gaped as though the this moro rapid and safe means oi a! lady, girl, and a rich one l” And stranger poor old bouse was all falling apart. Long be- things hove happened, I know, than my marry- fore daylight we both saw that it was settHnc tion ‘ . ! of r* 11 ing him would*have been; surely, affairs were down deeper and deeper into the water, whioE , being toe *???*?f or fl : rapidly drifting toward it; ana I had almost rose over the upper floor; and when Ben had bonr - 18 tao fleat of business i or K D V ,• .1 v. -A T> a !.!• l_. r L . .V -.1- L _ J. , At an, succeeded in crashing the thonght of Ben Sam ple out of my heart, and in playing the part that my father wished me to play to young Mr. Cardie, (for I never could have persuaded my self to love him,) when that fateful tenth of April came that brought my eighteenth birth day and the Great Flood together. The river had been rising slowly for a week before it, and there had been much rain with us. We heard reports of tremendous rains in the mountains two hundred miles north of ns, wMoh lasted for days and days; and the -river continued to rise steadily sad slowly, though rose over tne upper floor; ana wnen Ben naa ”—> “— mosG succeeded in knocking out the sonttie, he dragged tion of territory, and needs tn me out on the roof—how, I don’t know. I only and ample means' of communication. iv.i v- hi Xh« «gitgtioB Of.tito BUbjC^t of » know that he did it, and that but for him my drowned body would have floated there in that old wrecked house when the morning came. ***• uouranous*.** * al *“*"J “ th6 b«jG And I don’t know much about how toe test of is thought will be brought hefo . jB g C * the night passed. Ben sat upon the ridgepole, liatatwiw, hssAtiwed up the and held me on by bain strength: ana la the town, and theyasoao cold and the darkness I believo I slept: oertria- impartant and dsn ly I forgot where I was-for a long time.andfor- In the future management of ourv i got I was cold too. Bnt then I didn't know na- the most prominent of omeh „ ■ til I woke up at broad daylight, that Baa had my noxt letter. Yaws, fratarnaaj g^ l token hu coat off ted (Hft ttaxwmd sqrpto*)- 1 tori fl .^3rih>airt4y^[ - - - - ■ .--^iA S^.~AAASSi