Newspaper Page Text
BY SAWTELL & JONES.
£l)c €utl)bcrt Appeal.
Terms of Subscription:
Os* Tsar %i 00 | Six Months .... .$1 25
invariably ix advance.
Rates of Advertising '•
One square, (ten lines or less,) ft 00 for the
first and 15 c nts so-- each subsequent insertion
Contract advertising as follows :
Space. 3 Months 6 Months 12 Months
1 C01umn....: $25”00 sls Oo “TtrOO
I Column 40 00 75 00 10' 00
One Column... 50 00 90 Oo la»> 0°
Obituaries, $1 00 per square.
Tlie Glove.
Before hia Lion-court,
To see the griesly sport,
Sate the King :
Beside him group’d his princely peers,
And dames aloft, in circling tier?,
breathed round their blooming ring.
King Francis, where he sate,
Raised a finger—ya’ced the gate,
And, slow from his repose,
A l-iox goes!
Dumbly he gaz 'd around
The foe-encircled ground ]
And, with a lazy gape,
He stretched liis lordly shape,
And shook his careless mane,
And laid him down again !
A finger raised,the King—
And nimbly have the guard
A second gate unbarred ;
Forth with a rushing spring
A tiger sprung!
Wildly the wild one yell’d
When the lion he beheld :
And, bristling at the look
With his tail hi* sides he slrook,
And roll’d his rabid tongue.
In many * wary ring
He swept round the forest king,
With a fell and tattling sound ;
Aud laid him on the ground,
Grommelling I
The King raid’d his finger; then
Leap’d two Leonards from the den
With a bound:
And boldly bounded they
Where the crouching tiger lay
Terrible J
And he griped the beasts In his deadly hold !
Xu the grim embrace they grappled and roil'd—
Rose the lion with a roar!
And stood the strife before
And the wild cals on the spot,
From the blood-thhet, wroth and hot.
Halted still! •-*
From the gallery rais’d above
A fair baud dropp’d a glove;—
Midway, between the beasts of prey,
Lion and Tiger; there it lay,
The winsome lady’s glove 1
Fair Cuaigwnde said , wfiltb a lip of scorn,
To the knight Dkeouues —“ If the lore you
have sworn
Were as gallant and real ns you boast it to be,
I might ask you to bring back that glove tome!’*
The knight left, the place where the lady sate;
The knight he has passed through the fearful
The lion and tiger he stooped above.
And his fingers he closed ou the lady 3 glove!
All shuddering and stunn’d, they beheld him
there
The noble knights and the ladies fair ;
But loud was the joy and the praise the while
He bore hack the glove with his tranquil smile 1
With a tender l«»ik iu her soTtning eyes,
That promised reward to his warmest sighs,
Fair Cunigonde rose her knight to grace
lie tossed the glove iu the lady’s face—
*' May, spare me the guerdon, at least,’’ quoth he;
And he left forever that fair ladye !
SOBiTI.ES.
Early Tomatoes. — Hon. D. A Comp
♦on writes to the Southern Farmer as
follows:
‘These are most readily grown on
deep, sandy soil; but as all farmer’s
gardens are not sandy, the following
method will be found highly -advuutu.
jreous to those whose soil is a heavy
loam, approaching clay ; Make steep,
conical hiHs,a foot or more in height,and
two and one-half feet in diameter at the
base; in the tops of these set the plants.
Water thoroughly and immediately
cover the surface of the hills slightly
with dry earth, to prevent the ground
from baking. The roots will soon
spread through every part of the mound,
and being so exposed to the rays of the
sun will grow amazingly. Do not be
afraid the heat will burn them up—the
tomato came from a hot country, and
will endure heat and drought that
would be fatal to Northern plants.
“Should the drought be excessive and
the vines droop somewhat, dust them
with plaster. This will attract moisture
enough at night to support them during
the day, besides furnishing them w-ith
ammonia. Hoe aud plaster frequently.
When the tomatoes are tho size of crab
iipples pull off the smallest, and also
pinch off the tops of the plants. Let
ihe vines fall and remain directly on the
ground, that the fruit may have the full
benefit of the heat of thesun and ground.
By this method ripe tomatoes may be
had full three weeks earlier than by
flat culture io the common way.
‘Farmers aie advised to start their
plants in small squares of inv*erted sod
in a slight hot-bed. Such plants are
moved in perfect safety, are more stocky
in habit, and in every way better than
plants grown thickly in soil.
• *1 have tasted no SSrly tomato better
than the Early York, and no i«!- e vmie '
ty better than the F*Jee. r
A New Style of Floor Covering.—
A0 exchange says :
tffiave all your old newspapers, and
*vhen you get enough for the purpose,
make a paste as for putting on the wall,
lay dosrn one by one, pasting them
till your floor is covered, then let it dry;
then fay another in the sa.no wuy.-
Wbeu agaifl dry get some wall paper of
0 suitable color and paste all over it.—
When dry, go over it again with a good
coat of varnish, und you have a nice
covering for your floor, which will wear
2lEig .« a carpet, and look as well as
oil eloOi. This is a cheap method ot
covering bedroom- which are not much
used.'*
Josh Billing* says: “I a™ vio
lentlyopposed tew ardent spec-ills as a
bevrfdge; but for manufacturing P«i
fthiHk liU'g of '« taste^ood^
Kitty’s Rebellion.
tJY JENNY GREENWOOD.
On a sultry summer afternoon, some
seventeen years ago, little Kitty ran in
from her play for a drink of lemonade
which stood on the table.
‘Please, mamma,’ said her mother, as
she turned the glass.
‘Kitty tan’t say pease,’ replied the lit
tle maid.
Now Kitty had said ‘pease’ a hun.
died tiroes, and usually delighted in
saying everything she was told. She
quite excelled in conversational powers
lor a year-and a-half old. For the first
time in her short life, she had taken a
notion that she would not do as she was
bid. So her mother set the glass down
again uitfasted, and the child ran back
to her door-step as before. But it was
very warm, and presently the little feet
came pattering back, and the thirsty red
lips were up again for a drink.
‘Kitty say please.’
‘Tain't say pease.’ So the baby went
away thirsting again.
This experiment was repealed per
haps half a dozen times in the course of
the afternoon, at first playfully as it
seemed, but as the wee rebel began act*
ually to suffer from heat and thirst rath
er than say ‘please,’ it became a serious
question how long she would hold out.
Supper time came, and Pet ran to her
high chair.
‘Mamma, lift Kitty up 1’
‘Please, roammu, lift Kilty,’ said her
mother, gently.
Instantly the eager little face fell.—
Baby shook her head—muttered “tain’t
say pea 66,” and turned away. Her fath
er and mother and the rest of the chil
dren sat down to the table, but who
eat supper while that poor little outlaw
stood back by the wall moaning with
hunger and thirst! The mother yearned
to take her 1n her arms and give her
food and drink; but how could she?
The little one knew that one dutiful
word would bring her all she wanted,
yet she refused to speak it. The ques
tion fairly at issue—should the child
obey the parents, or the parents submit
to the child ? It is an old and common
di'emma, and in thousands of house
holds the child entries the day; but
Mrs. Hart did not believe God meant
that to lie the order of the world. So
she took her baby to her own room,
and set before her very tenderly and Be
rioualy her naughty behavior. She knelt
down and jwayed the Savior to make
her good and obedient; but after all
Kilty could not say “pease" any better
than before. At length, distressed and
tired, and fairly alarmed about tfic Tfitle
creature, wlio had ®ot tasted drink since
noon, she carried her to her father and
begged him to take the case in hand.
Mr, Hart began to talk with the young
culprit playfully, coding doubling he
should soon bring her round, lie gave
her a great many words to speak, which
she did all very readily tilt the trouble
some word ‘please 1 came along; that
she could not do. Year-and-a half un
derstood that to say that was to submit.
So he grew serious, and told her he
should have to whip her if she did not
mind. Now Kilty and whipping were
two things never before Brought, of in
the same breath. She had always been
an uncommonly sweet and gentle child,
and nobody bad ever guessed how
much grit was lutontin that little bosom.
Nothing else would avail, however, aud
the whipping had to come Still the
baby remained obstinate and far from
righteousness.
Feverish and exhausted, with parched
lips crying for drink, yet inflexibly re
fusing" to speak the little word which
would bring it, she was put to bed in
her crib. All the warm night she tossed
and moaned in her unquiet sleep, or
woke crying from thirst; but even then,
sleepy and miserable as she was, she
would only say, ‘Tan’t say pease,’ when
the water came near. For the father
and mother that was a night of sleepless
wretchedness, relieved only by prayer.
They really began to fear that the child
would sooner die than to submit to au
thority.
‘Oh, pshaw, never mind the please;
give her drink,’ many a father -would
have said. ‘Poor little thing! I must
let the minding go till another time,’
most mothers would have thought; but
Mr. and Mrs. Hart did not see it so. If
it was like death for a will to yield after
eighteen months’ growth, whnt would it
be after months and years of indul
gence? God had committed to them this
soul of his creating, to be trained for
Himself; if she could not be made to obey
her father whom she had seen, how
should she become obedient to her Fath
er in Heaven, whom she had not seen ?
The very fact that her will was so
strong, made it the more impe: a ive to
their minds that it should be brought
under the control of her conscience ; they
saw what a cruel tyrant it would prove
if left to hold sway. The longer the
struggle wi s protracted, the more like
ly it seemed that the result would be a
filial one, and the more important that
the result should be light. Then the
other children, who had been watching
this new phase of family history with a
kind of solemn dread—should they learn
that the authority they had been taught
to revere, could after all be trodden un
der the feet of the baby? It would not
do. It had been early explained to the
little one that it was her Heavenly Fath
er’s command that she should obey her
parents, and that she was resisting his
will ; that father and mother felt that
they had no right to annul his law.—
So the night wore away, and the morn
ing broke, but brought no peace to tue
household, weighed down by the per*
of its young rebel. the
awoke worn and ttlißPSt sick, but stub
born as ever.
Free will, indeed ! What a grand,
awful mystery it is ! How, shriued in a
dainty, delicate morsel of flesh, it can
look out and defy the world ! Terrible
agent of evil—glorious worker of good !
Kinkiest of creation—a sovereign hu
man°w ill ! vVhat wonder heaven and
hell contended for little Kitty s will, bo
they do for every one. Happy the child
whose parents steadfastly keep the right
side in the conflict!
Kitty found an ally in the morning.
A woman who occupied an adjoining
tenement, having learned the state ol
things from the children, came in to
plead for her. She assured Mrs. Hart
that site was killing the child ; that it
was downright cruelty to treat her so ;
that if she had a little girl, she would
never see her suffer when she could help
it. AH this fell on a soar aud achin»
heart. The mother had already been
tormented with fears that the heat and
thirst and excitement would really be
the death of her poor, nanghty little dar
ling. She tried to think of some compro
mise by which Kitty would be relieved
without a sacrifice of parental govern
ment. At last she placed a mug of milk
in a low chair, and left the little girl
alone in the room, while her father aud
mother watched her unseen.
They saw hea come up to the mug and
press her hot little hands against its
sides and begin to raise it to her thirsty
lips, then suddenly set it down with a
piteous look, and went away moaning.
It was a cruel battle between Desire and
Honor, for such a little heart. Again
the little creature would come up and
look wistfully into the miig'-full of rnilk
—shake her head mournfully, and turn
away. Kitty would not slink out of the
difficulty, though her pa'enls would let
her; she or they must openly surrender.
This little display of character made
them clearer than ever that they should
do the child a eruel wrong in helping
her to break dowu the demands of her
own conscience.
In the course of the morning, Mrs.
Ilart was relieved to see the family
physician drive up to the door, fohe
hastened to tell him the whole story and
ask whether she was risking too much.
He advised her to “put it through ; the
little thing couldn’t stand out much
longer.” Moreover, the good doctor
straightway conceived a little strategem
for bringing her to terms. It was a
great treat for any of the children to
ride, with him, and one to which Kitty
had never yet arrived; so that when he
proposed to take her this morning, she
flushed up with delight and began to
caper about the room in high glee.
‘Run and ask your mother to please
put on your hat, then,’ said the doctor.
Instantly the bright little face Jaded ;
she lost all desire to go, if there was a
‘please’ to it.
So the expedient failed.
It was getting towards noon—nearly
twenty-four hours, during which Kitty
had tasted neither food or drink. Per
suasion and authority had been exhaust
ed upon ben, and still she wandered
about the house, a . wan, discontented
little object, often crying, but as obsti
nate as ever.
Ahnost heart-broken to see her so,
the mother took her in her arms once
more and carried her to her chamber.—
Once again she showed the little girl
how wretched her wilfulness was mak
ing herself aud all the rest, and how it
was grieving the dear Savior. Then she
knelt, and with tears implored that bles
sed apiFit who-can ttielt evefy-beftrty io
subdue the stubborn will. Suddenly
the baby threw her arms around her
neck and burst out, ‘pease, pease, pease,
pease, pease, pease.’
The grateful mother covered her with
tears and kisses, and canted her down
to the sitting room, where she sprang
into her lather’s arms, crying, ‘Pease,
pease, peasef’ us if she would never be
done. Now she was all radiant with
love and peace. The other children
came running in to hear how Kitiy could
say please, bhe was ready to hug and
Ki»a everybody. The whole family
siood around laughing and crying, to
see her drink her cup of milk, and hard
ly able to let her alone long enough to
drink it.
The house was full of joy. The bat
tle was ended. Bight hud triumphed,
it had been a terrible struggle, but it
was once for all; from that day to this,
Kitty ilart has shown no disposition to
resist lightlul authority. Iler will was
not ‘broken’—that is an ugly phrase—it
is a good strung will yet; but it was
brought under her conscience. It was
rescued from being mere wilfnlcesa.
These parents had tried a 1 along to
make their child understand that to
sist them was to disobey her Father in
heaven, and that this was the head and
front of her offending.
As time went on, they found, to then
surprise, reason to believe that she had
understood it so well that in yielding to
them at last, she kud also submitted her
self to Ilim. Mature years and new ex
perience deepened and developed her
Christian life, but it never seemed neces
sary for Kitty to be converted alter she
was a year old. It appeared that the
Redi emer had crowned their prayers and
fidelity, and ended that long 'contest by
changing the heait of stone to a heart
of flesh, and sending His Spirit into it
crying Abba, Father 1
Ah, these cries in child hearts mean
more than we think 1 Eternal issues
are pending when we little dream of it.
Congrcgalionalist.
The Mind is the Man. —The mind is
the man. The body is simply the in
strument through which ihe mir.d mani
fests itself while on earth. The mind is
manifested through forty or more or
gans. Each is primary and independ
ent in its function, doing its own work
and not doing the work of any other.—
Each of these powers is manifested by
or through a particular organ or por
tion of the brain. The power of each
organ, all other things being equal, is in
exact proportion to the size and quality
of that portion of the brain through
which it is manifested. The mental
powers are possessed originally in dif
ferent degrees by different individuals,
and also by the same individual. One
possesses ten talents, another five, an
other one. Each mental power grow’s
stronger and becomes more skillful by
proper exercise. Our accountability is
just in proportion as we make a good
or a bad use of these talents. Each
mental power was created for the pur
pose of doing good, and was intended
to be properly used.
Aw Awful Sinkf.r. —ln Arkansas,
Eider Knapp, •while baptizing converts
at a revival meeting, advanced with a
wiry’, sharp-eyed old chap into the water.
Asked the usual question whether there
was any reason why the ordinance of
baptism should not be administered.—
After a pause, a tall, powerful looking
chap, with an eye like a blaze, who was
leaning on a long rifle and quiet’y look
ing on, remarked : “Elder, 1 don’t want
ter interfere in this yer business any ;
but I want to say that this is an old
sinner you have got hold of and I know
that one dip won’t do him any good
If you waut to get the sin out of him
you’ll have to anchor him out in deep
water over night.”
fl®* A lady gave this reasou for not
knowing the color of her minister’s eyes :
“When he prays he shuts his own ey< s,
and when he preaches he shuts mine.”
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1870.
How Madge Tilton Lost Her
Lover-
BY RUTITELLA SCHULTZ.
‘This will do, Jane.’
Madge Tilton took fretn the hand of
her maid the article indicated by her
words—a white skirt, fresh from the
laundry, and threw it on the bed.
‘But it is torn, miss,’ objected the
girl, holding to view a large triangular
rent.
‘Never mind ; the ruffling is lovely.’
‘Mayn’t I mend it, Miss Madge V
‘No; I’ve kept Mr. Waterbury wait
ing too long already. Make haste and
button my boots.’
But the girl was dissatisfied with the
decision of her mistress. Button-hook
in band, she rose from her knees, and
throwing open a wardrobe, said in a
deprecating tone : ‘Please, miss, these
are all in older. Wouldn’t you bn af
ter ona of them ?
‘Jane 1 I can Dot allow you to dic
tate to me in this manner. When your
advice is asked, you may give it—not
before. lam partial to the trimmings
on this skirt, and shall wear it. The
fact is, you should have repaired it as
soon as it came from the wash.’
‘I hadn’t time, Miss Madge ’
‘No more, Jane. Don’t talk to me of
lime. Here clasp my bracelet. Now,
bring my gloves, and see to it that there
isn’t a stitch wanting in my wardrobe
when I return.’
With these words Madge Tilton
swept from her boudoir and descended
to the drawing room, where Clarence
Waterbury had been wailing her ap
pearance lor the last half h<fur.
Now there were some ladies of that
young gentleman’s acquaintance—his
sister’s for instance—who would have
incurred his severest displeasure had
they committed a like breach of polite
ness. But on this occasion, and, in
deed, very generally when lie called on
Miss Tilton, a detention of thirty or
more mortal minutes was much less
disagreeable than he would have had
his sisters believe. In fact, I think he
enjoyed it. Do you wonder at this ?
You need not. He was in love.
On that particular afternoon in early
June,be was abundantly compensated for
his long wailing, when she entered the
room and extended her two fair hands
to greet him, She looked so neat, so
sweet, so trim, and, withal, so airy and
graceful in her snowy pique trailing on
the blue velvet floor; her dainty jacket
to match ; her white chip hat trimmed
w-ith forget-me-nots ; her jet ornaments
and little black parasol. If he had ev
er sftfferSu a daubt to dwell Id his mind,
it was now banished. Ilfi resolved that
the foi tunes of that day should seal bis
fate.
A picnic composed of about twenty
young friends, was to be held a few
miles distant from the city. The day
was one of June’s loveliest, and the
drive through the suburbs, and out into
the (poultry, was to Madge one of unus
ual interest.
She saw in every glance of her com
panion’s dark eyes, and beard in oveiy
tone of his rich voice, that she was
lovely, while he regarding her earnest
ly, could not (ail to see and lightly in
terpret the varying color of her cheek,
the dow nw ard sweep of her long lashes,
and the soft cadences of her voice.
Arrived at the place appointed, they
found their companions awaiting them,
just as all pic-nickers and others ought
always to wait for the tardy—enjoying
themselves to the best of their ability.
Time passed in the pleasures usual
to such gatherings, aud when the rural
feast was over the company dispersed
in couples through the woods. How
many love vows were whispered in the
5..i1l solitudes, aud how many fair faces
blushed beneatli the shadows of the
greenwood on that golden day in June !
Only Waterbury and Madge remain
ed near the edge of the forest, under a
large oak. The former leaned against
the tree, silently regarding his compan
ion, who, seated in a camp stool, was
wreathing a chain of wild flowers.—
Gradually she became conscious of his
steadfast gaze. Blushing, she rose and
tossed the gailand over her head, letting
it fall upon her shoulders and descend
in festoons over her dress. As almost
every woman, at such a moment, knows
that the supreme hour of her youth is
at hand, Madge knew that this hour
had come to her. She turned, and
taking the gariand from her shoulders,
hung it on a low branch of the tree, and
said: ‘Where is the view you prom
ised me V
‘On the other side of the hill,’ lie re
plied. ‘We shall have to go to the top,
though not to the highest point of the
hill. The walk is very pleasant, but
you must gather up your dress, for the
path is thickly intersected with briers.’
Madge, accordingly, lifted the heavy
trail of her skirt, and threw it over her
arms.
No sooner had she done so than Wa
terbury changed color, and turned away.
She flushed scarlet. There was no
room for apology or explanation. It
was of little use to let the folds of her
dress fall over the hole that, was staring
like a great reproachful eye into her
face. Yet she did so with a vague
sense of lelief which forsook her again
when-she saw the expression of shame
and disappointment that filled his eyes,
and the painful constraint of his man
ner as he turned and offered his arm.—
She accepted it with' some slight re
mark, and a forced laugh But hccou’d
not respond in the same spirit, and lit
tle was said. By the time they reach
ed the hi 1 top his manner bad so chi IK
ed and distressed her that she was una
ble longer to assume a careless air.
‘I am so tired,' she said, sinking upon
a fallen tree; ‘let ns go back,’
Someth ng very like a sob followed
her word*; and Waterbary, overcome
with tenderness and pity*, seated himself
beside her.
‘Sit here and rest,’ he returned, but
could say nothing further. Though
her face was averted as if some object
in the distance had fixed her attention,
he saw that she mas very pale. And
when, almost as much agitated as her
self, he took her hand from the moss on
which it lay, he observed that it trem
bled violently. But lie forbore, even by
tint lightest pressure, to give expression
to the tend rnei-a flooding his soul.
How different the scene he bad pic--
lured to himself! ‘I will lead her herp,’
he had said only the day l afore, when
on that very spot he had viewed (he r >.
niamio beauty of the scene*. The rock
browed, pine-cr<>wned hill; the brook
rushing to meet the river in the valley;
the summer sky above, and the song of
birds, and whisper of the breeze around
him; the wild flowers blooming in every
sunny nook, and the mossy trunk of the
fallen tree—ho had regarded them all
as contributors to his happiness. But
the flowers, the birds, the over shading
trees and prostrate oak ; the deep soli
tudes, the blue dome of beaveD, and the
river gemmed valley—all were there;
even she was by his side; yet with
what different feelings from those he
had anticipated did he look upon the
scene!
That he deeply loved Madge Tilton
was never more evident to Waterbury
than at that moment. But an untidy
wife 1 the thought appalled him. Not,
indeed, that he had judged her to be
untidy from the circumstance of the af
ternoon. Unfortunately—or, perhaps,
fortunately for hirn, he had on a previ
ous occasion seen one or two plaits of
her dress fastened to the waist by a>pin.
-At the time he supposed her unaware of
the fact ; but it came fucibly to his
mind at the sight of the torn, white
skirt, and at the same moment he re.
membered having once seen the soiled
spring of her crinoline protruding from
beneath her dress. His conclusions, of
course, were inevitable.
‘No, never 1’ was his mental exclama
tion ; ‘never, though i loved her inadly,
could I marry a woman whom I knew
to be ’
At this moment a gay group came
bounding through the shrubbery in
search of Madge and Waterbury. The
party proposed returning home, some of
the more weather-wise having predicted
a storm. And as storms are the usual
accompaniments of pleasure excursions,
the point was readily conceded ; Wa
terbury and Madge joined the party in
the valley, whence they all departed for
their several destinations
The bitterest moment Waterbury had
ever known was that in which he bade
Madge Tilton farewell. But it was
soon over. He was gone, and she did
not know, she could not suspect, how he
strove to keep the love light from shin
ing in his eyes; or how, when his hand
touched hers with fashionable Formality,
liis heart ached to clasp her in his arms.
To her it seemed a cold, calm part
ing. She knew that it was forever, but
she neither fainted or dimmed her lus
treus eyes with tears. As in the case
of that animal which submits to the
shears only when compelled by the vise,
the loss of her lover was for a time un
heeded in the torture of her humiliation.
‘All for the gratification of an idle
whim!’ was her first bitter reflection
But, upon mature deliberation, she
came to a different conclusion. It was
this :
To her besetting sin of carelessness,
she hfd sacrificed her fondest hopes—
her dearest
It was a hard tf.sk—lbis standing in
sell-judgment—discrirainately and sil
mercifuily laying hold of her darling
folly, and exposing it to the impartial
and penetrating eye of an awakened
conscience. But, with the help that is
never lacking to those who seek, she
performed it; and, though the ordeal
was painful, the effects wore salutary
and lasting.
Keep your Ashes for Manure.— The
American Agriculturist says: Wood
ashes make one of tiie most valuable
fertilizers within the reach of the far
mer. The unleached article has the
more potash, but the leached is thought
to be quite as valuable. In leaching
they shrink a good deal, and lime is
usually added, which increases the val
ue. They are generally sold, too, at a
iess price. Ashes are well suited to all
farm crops, and are very beneficial in
the fruit yard and orchard. Most far
mers sell wood in the cities and villages,
and rather than go home empty they
should carry back ashes and other fer
tilizers, to replace the potash, lime and
phosphoric acid that have been carried
off in the crops and animals sold. Ash
es show immediate effect from their ap
plication, and at the same time last long
in the soil. They are very highly ap
predated in the onion growing districts,
but may be appied with equal advan
tage to ordinary farm crops. They
should be kept as near the surface as
possible, spread and harrowed into the
seed bed or applied directly to the grow
ing crops. Make a business of saving,
buying and storing ashes during the
winter for tho next season’s operations.
Farmer’s girls are expected to
understand housekeeping, but sometimes
a bard barren life of toil begets in them
a disgust, which leads to extreme care
lessness and indifference in the nicer
parts of home duties.
Beware of this, I pray you. Study
grace and beauty in the folds of a cur
tain the arrangement of a table, tho posi
tion of a chair —the amount of light
and shade to give the right effect to all.
Take the prettiest way of doing things,
and you wili soon discover a charm in
toil, and the effect on your own natures
will be ennobling. Do not begrudge
five minutes to trim a dish with green
leaves upon the dinner table, not for
getting to twist a spray of flowers or
leaves amid the dark or gold of your
hair ! Somebody’s eyes will brighten to
see it, and, ere you are aware, you will
become “a trap to catch a sunbeam.”—
Country Gentleman.
Cuke for Neuralgia.—Some time
since we published, at the request of a
friend, a receipt to cure the neuralgia,
Half a drachm of salammoniac, in an
ounce of camphor water, to be taken a
tea spoonful at a dose, and the dose to
be repeated several times at intervals of
five minutes, if the pain be not relieved
at once. Half a dozen different persons
have since tried the receipt, and in every
case, an immediate cure was effected.
In one, the sufferer, a lady, had‘been
affected for more than a week, and the
physician was unable to alleviate her
sufferings, when h solution of salammo
nine in Camphor water relieved her in a
few minutes.— Aka Californian.
The quantity of milk drawn from
a cow per annum, depends more than
some imagine upon the milker. The
best cow in the world may soon be
spoiled by careless and irregular milk
ing, whereas an ordinary animal may
be made to yield much more ot the de
licious beverage than usual, by the right
performance of this simple operation.
To find a good cow is not an easy thing
—but still more easy than to find an
accomplished milker
Motto tor a rejected Buitor— He
would, and she wouldn’t. He could,
but she couldn’t. -
SAVANNAH CARDS.
P. H. BEHN,
COTTON and RICE FACTOR
AND
General Commission Merchant,
West of the Exchange,
BAY STREET, : : SAVANNAH, GA.
augl9-6m* ,
AUSTIN Si ELLIS,
COMMISSION
—AND—
FORWARDING MERCHANTS
and Cotton Factors,
SAVANNAH, : : s : GEORGIA.
Bagging and Ties and other articles furn
ished, and advance? made upm Cotton on Con
signment or for sale. augl9-6m
COTTON TIES! COTTON TIES
Dunn’s Patent Self-Adjusting
HORIZONTAL COTTON TIE
AS AGENTS for the above namsd Pitent, we
beg leave to commend it to the attention of
Planters and Merchants
This TIE is a decided improvement, and contains
the advantages of
GREAT STRENGTH,
GREAT SIMPLICITY.
EVSG IN MANIPULATION.
Being suoerior to any other manufactured,
we can c -ntidently recommend it to the public.
• JNO. W. ANDERSON’S SONS & CO.
augl9-6m Agents in Savannah, Ga.
"JOSEPH FINEGAN & CO,
Cotton Factors
AND
COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
BAY STREET,
SAVANNAH, : : : : GEUtGIA.
Liber and Advances male on Cotton consigned
to us or to our Correspondents in New York and
Liverpool. augl9 ly*
PALMER & DEPPISH,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALES IN
HARDWARE,
RUBBER BELTING,
AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS,
* Powder, Shot, Caps and Lead.
14S Congress & 67 St. Julian Sts.
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
aug!9 6m*
GROOVER, STUBBS & CO.,
COTTON FACTORS
AND
General Commission Merchants
Bay Street, SAVANNAH, GA.
Bagging. Ties, Rope and other Supplies
- Furn ished.
Also, Liberal Cash Advances made on Consign
ments lor sale or shipment, to Liverpool or North
ern Ports. C. E GROOVER, Savannah,
C. F STUBBS.
augl9-6m A. T. MACINTYRE, Thomasrille
R. H. Andersjx, G. \V. Axderson, Jr.,
Joiix \V. Anderson, A. 11. Culb.
JOHITW. ANDERSON’S SONS & Cos
COTTON, FACTORS
AXD
COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
Anderson's Block, Drayton St., near the Bay,
SAVANNAH, GA.
r IBERAT, CASH ADVANCES made on CON
SIGNJIENTS for sale in Savannah, or on
Sbipmont to reliable correspondents in Liverpool,
New York, Philadelphia, Boston or Baltimore.
To old patrons we return thanks ; to new ones,
promise our best services.
ALSO
Agents Empire Lino of Side Wheel S e’triers
to New York- nuglSMy*
THOAIAS M. ALLEN,
WITH
COLQUITT & BAGGS,
COTTON FACTORS
AND
Commission Merchants
Savannah, Ga.
Liberal Advances oa Consignments when
pesired. mayl3-6m
CLAGHORN & CUNNINGHAM,
Wholesale aud Retail
Gr ocers,
And dealers in
Fine Wines, Liquors, Segars, Etc.,
Corner Drayton and Say Streets,
SAVANNAH, GA.
IST Alt Goods Warranted. Orders from the
oontry promptly attended to. auglO ly
A. J. MILLER. C. P. MILLER.
A. J. MILLER & CO.,
Furniture Dealers ,
134 Broughton St.,
SAVANNAH, : : : GEORGIA.
WALNUT Bedroo n Sets, Imitation French
Sets, Parlor Sets, Bureaus, Wash Stands,
Bedsteads, Chairs of ail grades, Children’s Carri
ages, etc.
CiF” Jobbing and Repairing neatly done and
wi.h dispatch. Mattress making, Feathers. Up
holstering, etc. auglu-6in*
A. S HARTRIDGrE,
General Commission Merchant
AND FACTOR,
92 Bay Street, SAVANNAH, GA.
Having had over twenty years experience in
said business, he will pay the same strict attention
to the sale of Cattoa and o'ber Produce, aud to
the purchase of Supplies, as in former years.
He will not have any interest in the pur
chase of Cotton.
Liberal a trances made on Consignments,
auglll-ly*
J. J. DIOKISON & C 0„
C3TION FACTORS and
General Commission Merchants.
StLNANNA’J, GA.
j ——:o:— —- •
ZTh iberal advances made on Cauaigamenfs.
SAVANNAH CARDS.
A. M. Sloax. * J. H. Sloan-
A. M SLOAN & 00,
COTTON FACTORS
AND
General Commission Merchants
CLAcnosN a Cunningham’s range,
BAY STREET,
SA VAXNAH, : : .- GEORGIA.
Digging and Rope or Iron Ties, advanced on
crops Liberal csh advances made on consign,
meets fir sale in 3 tyiunab, or on shipments to re
liable correspondents in Live)pool. New York,
Pailadelphia, or Baltimore. augl9 6m*
H. H- LINVULE,
with
iS. AY. GLEASON,
Iron and Brass Foundry and Ma
chine Works,
Manufacturer and dealer in
SUGAR MILLS, SUGAR PANS, Gin Gear,
Cotton Screws, Shafting, Pullers. Porlab'e
and Slalinnarv Steam Engines. Corn Mills and Ma
chinery of all kinds.
St. Julian Street, West of the Market.
SAVANNAH, GA.
w Orders respectfully solicited:' aug!9tf
M. KETCHUM. A. L. HARTRIDGE.
KETCHUM & HARTRIDGE.
BANKERS
AND
COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
EXCHANGE BUILDING,
SAVANNAH, : : ; GEORGIA.
Reverences: —Moses Taylor, President City
Bank, N. Y.j P. C. Calhoun, President Fourth Na
tional Bank, N. Y.; John J Cisco A Son, Bankers,
N. Y.; Morris Ketcbam, Bunker, N. Y. j J. N
Noiris, Cashier First National Bank, Baltimore;
M. McMichael, Cashier First National Bank, Phila
delphia.
aug!9 ly
E. A. SCnWARZ. I "AAC A. BRADY.
SCHWARZ & BRADY,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
O IFL PETS,
Floor Oil Cloths. Mattings,
SHADE LINENS,
WALL PAPER, WINDOW SHADES,
CORNICES; CURTAINS, CORDS, TASSELS.
115 Broughton Street , Wylhj's Building,
(South Side, Between Ball and Whitaker Sis.)
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
USF" Post Office Box 494. augl9-ly*
¥. M. DAVIDSON,
Wholesale Dealer in
FOREIGN and DOMESTIC
Wines and Liquors ,
150 Bny Street, Savannah, Ga.
(Es’ablished in 1814.)
HAS constantly on hand a l<rge assortment of
French Braudies, Holland Gin, St.-Croix and
Jamaica Rum,
Scotch and Irish Whiskey,
Port and Si erry Wine, (the latter direct importa
tion Irnm Spain.)
411 Ihe above Liquors are guaran
teed to be genuine as imported.
Also on band,
JOHN GIBSON’S SONS & CO S
Celebrated Whiskies, of all g-ad«s.
Sole agent for Georgia and Florida for Massey,
Iluston A Co.’s celebrated Philadelphia Draught
Ale, in bane's and half barrels.
augl9-6:u*
WM, HENRY WOODS,
COTTON FACTOR
AND
ami coup nun;
BAY STREET,
Savannah, Ga.,
Is prepared at all times to advance liber
ally on consignments for sale in Savannah, or
tor shipment to bis correspondents iu New York
aud Liverpool.
augfj-Om*
L.J. GUILMARTIN & CO.
COTTON FACTORS
AND
[SEEM CaililO! MEEEMITS-
Bay Street, Savannah Ga.
Agents for Bradley’s Super Phosphate of Lime.
Bagging, Rope, &. Iron Ties, always on hand.
Usual Facilities Extended to Customers,
augi 9 6tn
DENNIS FAIVEY,
FURNITURE DEALER,
153 Rronsliton^treet,
SA VANA AIT, - : : : GEORGIA.
MAHOGANY, Walnut and Chestnut Bed-Room
Suites; also Imitation French and Teaster
Suites ; Mahogany and Walnut Parlor Suites, in
Haircloth and Rejig; Sofas, Marble-Top Tables,
Bureaus, Sideboards. Wardrobes, Book-Cases,
Washstands, Chairs and Bedsteads of all kinl.
New Work made to order, and Country or
ders promptly filled.
aug!9 ly.
W, Duncan J. D. Johnstox.
DUNCAN & JOHNSTON,
COTTON FACTORS
AND
General Commission Merchants,
78 bay street, savannah, ga.
sep3 ly*
KANDELL & CO.,
Wlxolosalo G-rooors,
201 & 203 Bay SC, West of Barnard,
• SAVANNAH, GA.
Genera! Aijents of the Orange Rifle Pow
der to* Hemgia. Florida and Alabama.
VOL. IV- NO. 13. i
SA VANN A H CA RDS.
¥. H. STARK & CO.,
WHOLESALE
ano OERS,
COMMISSION MERCHANTS
AND
Cotton Factors .
Agents for the sale of Gullett's Steel Crash
COTTON GINS.
ALSO,
E. F. COE’S SUPERPHOSPHATE of LIME.
B®* Careful attention given to Sales or
Shipments of Cotton, ana all
kinds of Produce.
Liberal adccinces made on Contignmcnl*.
BAGGING, ROPE and ARROW TIES
Constantly on hand. s«>p3o 6m
ADOLPHE SACK,
Importer of
SILVER AND GOLD
W A.T O
CHOICE JEWELRY,
BIJOUTERIE , CLOCKS , Elo. t Eie. t
Corner Bryant A Whitaker Street#,
SAVANNAH, : ; ; : GEORGIA.
JE3T Repairing of Watches and
Js.we].-y executed -wdfe aui
Warranted to Give Satisfaction.
augt9 6 m
V x. fl. Tison. Wh. W. Gordon.
TISO.V & GORDON,
COTTON FACTORS
—AND—
MSEEAI COMMISSION MEIEIIITS,
} Savannah, Georgia.
Bagging and Rope or Iron Ties advanced on
Crops.
Liberal cash advances made on consignments of
Cotton.
Grateful for liberal prtronage in the past, a con
tinuance of the same is respectfully solicited.
sep2 6 at*
rere-r.- .» ji-iianmnut
ISAACS’ HOUSE,
Cherry St Macon, Ga.
E. ISAACS, Proprietor.
THIS HOTEL is located in the central portion
of the ci'y— convenient to Ware Houses end
bu ioess houses generally. It being the oulv hous*
in the city kept on the
EUROPEAN PLAN,
Offers unequal’ed advantages to the planter and
IriiVeJini* pub'-ic generally.
The table is supplied with the best the market
a Roads, and the rooms furnished with new and neat
furniture.
VST" A FREE Hack will be in attendance at all
trains. j,3otf
EACH CARGO OF THIS
GrU AMO
IS ANALYZED
Before Being Offered for Sale,
And Warranted Equal to the
Original Standard Value.
EOT To le used on all Crops precisely a
Peruvian Guano.
H. H, JONES. Agent,
ang26tf (Juthbert.Ga.
Now is the Time
TO BUY
Drugs, Paints, Oils, Glass, Chemicals, Etc.
C H E -A- n?.
marll-ly J. J. McDONALP.
Dr. M. A. SIMMONS'
GENUINE LIVER MEDICINE!
RAKE’S Plantation Bitters,
ilrotrjoule’s fttglielT Female Bitters,
nnrley’s and Vaa
RosadaKs.
Just . „„„ , ar Kerosene 0 ! Etc.,
<iu«t eccivcq >aq tor mtcat the IJijg S’ere ~f
