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BY SAWTELL & JONES. €l)c Cutljbevt Appeal. Terms of Subscription i O** VfAE... ..$> 00 | Six Months...u $1 25 ixyariabi.y in advance. Rates of Advertising: On* «qu»i-t, (ten lines or les*,) $1 oO for the 4r»l and 15 e -itt* fo-esch subsequent insertion Contract ns follows : . Space. 3 Months 6 Monllif- 12 Months 1 C01iMnn...... $25 00 *ls On $75 03 | Column 40 0 » 75 0 i I>o 00 One Column... 50 00 93 Oo 151 0 J pK~ Obituaries. $1 U 0 per square. For the Cheshire R -publican ] The Mitiiic Chin It A BTME ABOCT DOI.I.AKS AND SENSE. By Ed. P. Ackerman. Sage* may think, and authors may write, May con by day ami toil by nialit On the folly of m m ami ihecommiinitly’s plight. On the of lm -’Sms, r.? 5 their honesty slight, But, <]n they e’er think It's the cl ink clink, clink, * Os ttie magic chink Which carries the day—let come what may ! Books have, been wntfcfch , and voiurfiee been read. Discussions been holrleh anil everything said Tkat could be. t>#t still the world goes ahead With the same old-fashioned, the *snu meas ured tread, While we don’t stop to think That the clink clink, cliuk, Os the magic chink Is what rules the day—let couu what may You may prate about principle, theorize about fate, You may whine over charity and weep over hate ; You may call enemies cowatjg, call them mean and ingrate, ™ And with your owii «elf-con#eit try four brain to elate, But yon don’t stop to think That tin- cliuk, clink, cliuk, Os the magic chink 4Rll Carry the day—come o’er you wha may. Think a man e'er so bad. think him worse than “Old Nick 'Call him all that’s outrageous, while at him you stick The finger of scorn, but, should he be quick In paying'you. bill you'd think him a brick ! For. you'd soon stop and think That the cliuk. clink, clink, Os the magic chink Had carried the day —lt’s always ‘the way I If • maiden’s as homely as nature could make her, And so pond’rous and heavy that a gale wouldn’t shake her ; If she had nough dimes—and a check wouldn't break her, You’d think her a Venus, and, straightway would take her , When you’d once stamped to think That the clink, clink, clink, Ot her magic chink Would carry you whate’er you might do! but, be she as handsome as nature could Mould her, ■So lovely. In fact, as to entrance her beholder. If she was minus the rocks you will, no dobbt. have told her ’“That the tiling wouldn’t do’’ —you would •‘turn the cold shoulder.” For you’d soon I -am to think That the clink, clink, clink, Ol her magic Chink Was ail you w ts alter -and to Hades you'd waft her! Lfet a beggar have braids—in the world they’re all stuff; Let him sparkle with genius—“he's not up to ; anutf But, lit b a fool—worse —a regular rough If he’s got copper cents he’ll be fondled enough, fur the community think More of the clink, clink, clink Os the m igic chink Than they do of the talents money straight ens the balance ! The dimes make their mark even with the good preacher, (And this, In my mind's the most remarkable feature); Mankind, when in tfaill of a spiritual t-acher tfißconie down with the cash—look at Ilea ky AV.vr l Beadier R Just give a sly wink With the clink, clink, dink Os the magic Chink And you’ll surely succeed—bul your pocket must bleed! If a fellow gets sick, or is Wangled, or mash'd, Or into the depths of a drawbridge is dashed Falls under the cars and into iniu.emeat is hash* ed. Or by some coward’s knile is mo3t terribly slashed. If h i can't give the wink. Or his pockets don’t clink With the magic chick He’s about sure to die—jo physicians are nigh! But, yon take a rich chap with his diamond pin. With his massive gold ring, and his purse full of tin ; Let him slip, and, falling, chance to damage his skin And a dozen M. D's will come tumbling in! They won’t stop to think, For the clink, clink, clink Os bis magib Chink Will hasten their pace—they like such a base. Jk. a. ■ * * * * .ft * • * ft ■ • * * But, wheii life is over, when Death takes com. mand, Bad before the great Jadgmcnt simple man - must stand, ffot the Woney he earned, nor the diamonds be wore Will pass him to Heaven—be must have some* thing Wore 1 Will he then stop to think That the clink, clink, clink Os his magic chink Has bad its lull day T It will sure be the way! What's the use, then, of riches. If not to do f Where’s the use of a million of gold ? If a nun should live rich, he will surely die If-biaaool fbr his money's been sold L We will then stop to think That the clink, clink, clink Os the magic chink - Will not answer there! ’twonil boa jihißi Keenfrffitb-, frbb- *■'*, CUTHBERT Ijl APPEAL. From Aitbur’s Home M-saenger.] Crowns For Your Brows. BY MARY HARTWKLI. titIAPrKK I. A great many women (I am thankful to know) have earned halos in their time. Some we have heard of, and n-Hne we know nothing about. Wo men's faces witli the umeole shine out of history, hut ftener they shine out of human hearts, wherein they were pho tographed long after their materia tty bud passed away. There are men who profess they ‘do not believe in women.’ And they do not lack Bentim«.:tiil imitators, devoid of their vices because devoid of their fibre, to cry the fallen sentiment. The two hands of a man’s spiritual body seem to me to he faith in God and faith in woman Jf tie is mVimed of these, wherewith shall lie work strongly and worthily through his duration" I know some women are course, hut I know (and again render thauwa lor it) that some rise up and earn halos —wo men of wirm Uifood, and tried H -sh, and many faults, whose aureoles were vi*i ble within the doors of their homes be fore they were set to shine on the doors of their tombs. Margaret Amyri lis did not know she was earning one—it is a remarks hie fact that those who arc thus illumi nated seldom know it—she whs so oc copied with doing her duly and gfow ing lovely thereat. To grow lovely at duty, to make our actions- re bound upon ourselves, is the hardest, but the noblest part of all. The western wind blew, and the western sun shone upon her prairie home; but potent as arc such winds mid still, they never could spoil her luce that set itsdt' tirnvely to them as it set itself bravely to life. She had been born m England. Mr. Amyrillis was a gentleman. He could trace back his ancestry through genefa’jons. Marga ret had been an heiress. Hut Mr. Am yrillis was weak, lie bowed under misfortunes, and the tide swept him, al most destitute, t» America. He brought his delicate wife and daughter to the prairie; and rearing such u home as he could afford, and which he would not have considered fit for a tenant in Eng land, he began—mot to toil manfully, like many another ruined foreigner, up the free terraces of American promo tion, but—to vegetato. And besides him. a woman who refused to be com {lined, tike Rachel, for ttie loss of her fi st bortl ambitions, vegetated also.— He grew like cypress, poor man, breath ing and nourishing himself, but always sighing; while Mrs. Amyri'lis, like Ivy, clung tenaciously to all the ugly ‘aad disagi-eetihje parts of their situa tion, and luxuriated solemnly over the whole. Between two such parents, with her tastes put behind her and h«r fate to face, Margaret Mmyrillis lived and toil ed. iSu often had ugly thoughts in that closet which Mrs. Stowe places behind the human intellect, and which she says is often filled with mean guests, while the brain's trout parlor is inure properly occupied. But blessed is the soul who cun keep these thoughts in the closet. There is more hope of ex pdiing them hy the way they came in. The AmynUm liotne was a wooden building, with one room below and a 101 l above. These Margaret wrought skilliul with. Thoj* ooilld not afford •lieip;’ besides ‘help’ was not easily found. I lie girl studied to become a Cover I ttie housekeeper. She made tint rooms us pretty and convenient as po-sihle She planned and helped her father to make a folding screen, which at night separated her mother’s bed cor ner into a chamber by itself. She etir faint-d the walls with some tJd tapis iry, and hung her own pictures here and there. And in a little shed behind their hut, she diu the meaner drudging, w-.th hands you would have* shuddered to see in relations to dishwater and soap suds, though yell read in the plaCid foiohead above them a conviction that tins was appointed* and, therefore, cun sedating work. Margaret was not a boanfy She had shapely hands and right hair; her eyes were blue and clear; she was small, and had a sweet dignity. In tile sphere to which she was led, she became a sainted presence. Y<m and 1 micfUl develop thus through our vexa tions* sinter. We have j i-t as much capital to begin with as had Margaret Amyrillis And she is not a phantom of the brain* hut to day exists a liv rig soul anion** God's millions. Her wim lets were cold, and her miiiinleis hot, and her toil wearying, like ours. She hungered lot* society, and received a stone; she thirsted lor tendefnesfl, and hud vim-gar to drink from her lerin*-nt lug parents. She almost suff n-ated in her tile* and used to look through the loft window at the star*, tier bosom bursting with its throes. And some times the selfish question filled lief, ‘Why must all this come upon tna ? I would rather be blotted out than live so 1 — Why, I wasu’t made for this!’ the in dignaiil nature would add, till a!ie re membered that the servant is not bet ter than her lord; and believing herself over-brooded hy love, this devout little woman would turn back from rebellion, confident that her being would yet leach its symmetry, and find its an swers. God never made a germ to giow hideous for want of its proper food. Due hot J uly morning, she stood churning her butter in the shed, and soothing her mother in the house. The churn gave forth a pleasant sound, but Mrs. AinyriHis uttered most dolorous ones. Sue lay in a rooking chair, fan ning herself with one languid hand. ‘Oh 1 I can't stand this,’ said the poor iuuy; ‘these tilings sire wearing iny life out. I wonder what your lath er ever intends to do. My health has been sacrificed ; all your prospects have been sacrificed. Ido not see bow any worse things can befall us. It would be well if we could all die in a heap Dow. Margaret, you are growing to look like a milkmaid V ‘Do you really thin* it is not worth our while to live, since no worse things euu befall U3, my mother V ‘. on seem to enjoy degradation ; I do Wish, Margaret, yon would remem ber you are a lady, liow large your hands are becoming V ‘They are not s i large as to be un wieldy, dear mother,’ hilled. Mkfg?*' ret. ‘I do think,.’ shin added softly , with emphasis in her lambent eyes, ‘that there is no and gradation in iny trying to comfort my father and mother.’ ‘lt’s poor comfort,’ fretted Mrs. Am yriilis, ‘to see oilr daughter toiling and coarsening, with no hopes before her.' Margaret had ‘hopes,’ hut her mother would have regarded them as simply •religious Feelings,* which were m.id« for use in the temple, like the precious thereof, and with reverence only to be spoken of elsewhere. The cream hud not yet yielded its rich secret, hut was foaming amj swel ling therewith. Mrs. Amyrillis, cry ing behind her nervous hands, Was ft »t likely ever to yield a secret that would enrich anybody. Margaret applied herself more energetically to both oases. Sue hasLeued to S low her inoluer an amusing article in the one newspaper lin y atfoided; she kissed the lady's heated temples, and mooned a pretty air to give.her reading a pleasant un dertone. Then she dashed the eburu- handle with firmer bunds. iy„ her neat dress, whitely banded at neck and wrists, w ith h. r hair smoothly arranged, and her noble eyes shining, she did not look like a counselling woman. The paper dropped, Oy and by, into Mrs. Aiuyrilhss lap, and site slept tni'ough the languid uours till Margu rets riand was laid on her forehead at noon. ‘Diuuer is ready, you see, mother dear. 1 have carried yours up into my room. The men are coming from their tillesbing- to Luo table. Wnl you g< up .stairs uow-T ‘Yes, Ugh ! those dreadful wretches 1 What customs do not the Americans have J And you have to servo them, Margaret ?’ •Ye*. Father would be but a bung ling waiter, you know.’ ‘Your lather, or you either, serving a lot of teeking boors at ottr own table 1 011 1 what is the world coming to ?’ ‘To dinner, my mother. At least, a sufficient part of the world to demand my attention at once. Ido not iniud it, und lather does not serve. He sils down with them, you know.’ ‘Yes, he sits down with them,’ fumed Mrs. Amyrillis. ‘The representative of a house who no more allowed their dependants to sit above the salt than they allowed the dogs !' -But these men aie not dependants, mother. They are free born American citizens.’ Mrs. Amyrillis put out her hand in scout to repel the free-born Americau citizens. Her daughter arranged her scat, and found a liUto shawl to keep her irom the draught. •I wil. bring your dessert as soon as they have begun eating,’ then promised the'giiK tttruing to go down stairs. T suppose,’ queried the mother, with some indefinite qualms, ‘1 hope they haps I ought to stay down there ?’ ‘Oh 1 no,’ repiled Margaret, her sweet dignity becoming apparent,’ they are very respectful 5 they cOilld uot booth, erwieo.’ The threshers crowded from out-door world upon her white fi»or, just as her own foot, de oendmg from toe last stqp, pressed it. £>he noudod quietly to those wuoiit she knew. They ait recognized her presence. Some of them were Milking lellows* woo had never before been so courteous to a woman. Thus imperceptibly she broke the ice between them and a sex they diended. For having greeted a woman properly once, they would experience less terror at tho next trial. Ttieir burnished faces, just purified from Margaret’s bowls ol cool water and IVesh towels, encircled the tubus. Mr Amynlhs sat pice msly at tne head trying to assimilate himself to i. B companions. U.s la* e was a < oraicai mixture of mirror at Western freedom and a servile-desire to conciliate, lie suuddered, oypressdike, to hour his old and gentle nmne maimed Until it was Armies*.’ And he was obliged to feed the very hacking lips that maimed it 1 He looked stupidly at the men taking tneir cups of coffee from his daughters high hrt-u hands, and wondered if they knew she came of a line three times us old as their irtonstrous government! Four man; there was less beef and wine, uud more pastry and bile, in his tnaKe-up titan Ibruiri-iy * ho could not become healthlully Americanized, He iou,d uot See, as his daughter Saw, •men and brothers’ lit ti use stalwart specimens. ‘Men and brothers’ they did indeed prove themselves u t loug alter in the war against the Rebellion. ‘ls Mi-s Armless uuwoll to.day !' ask ed one neighbor, handing back las cup for the fourth time. '1 don’t see her knockin’ rouud.’ Mr. Amyrulis stared fiercely, but res covered himself in a pile *us grin. ‘The lady—my wile —yes, she is quite wel<* tuauk yovl. Her health has never been poor.’ •The heat oppresses my mother,’ put in Mafgalcl quietly oVer her father’s blunder. ‘1 am afraid she will have fe ver.’ •Sho !’ eaid the neighbor, gurgling at his cup. ‘Now, this here's sluppm’ c«ffee l’ he exclaimed gallantly. ‘I reckon you learned to make it in the old country, didn't you, Marge V ‘No. I have only learned to work since 1 came to America.’ ‘YV uth you while to eome, then. Girls allays ort u* know how to work Orteu’t they Armless !’ Mr. Amyrillis whimpered, but finally came out with triumph in bis mealy grin. ‘Ekerc'se was healthy, 1 he euu eeded. ‘To be sure it is,’ said the stolid farm* er. ‘Have you had any agur feeliu s since you come here ?’ he inquired. The brokwn-dowu gentleman hesita ted. He was almost tempted to a sol emn pun. ‘Give me not poverty, had often been in his miud, but 'Give me not riches,’ never. He thought his agur feelin’s had only been partial. True to his cypress devoloyment, how ever, he sighed and answered literally that lie laid had one or two chills. Marg-aret's eyes were drawn op du nug a Jargon of talk to find one man reverently watching her. he was |ar ir e and bronzed. She remembered to have heard him called Jack W arruli. There wt» *»me breeding beneath hts roughness. Seeing his gaze was no ticed, he begged her for another glass of milk. She gave it awd finding a gap in Iter occupation, hastened to carry up her mother’s desert, innocent o( 1 having made an impression, so com pletely hud duty taken the place of sett co4si uoifcMiees i.n her. I As site returned, ai merry oath burst from this man’s lips. He met her eyes CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 17, 1870. and colored, exclaiming at once with w -stern frankness, *1 beg your purd m, Misi Margaret. lam ashamed of that, and t’ll try never to do it again. ‘Thank you,’ said the girl gratefully. Her look, ha told the men afterward —‘that look of her eyes went deeper into him than an}’ sirmon that any preacher ever pounded out of a pulpit.’ Thenceforward J ick W ir-en, west ern farmer, 1 ved the little English lady, and b“g »n to see the halo round her head, which is yet to him a alar leading upward. CBVPrBa ti. In this community, Sabbath was a mire day of pause —a period at the end of the week, which they often ran over and rendered quite as bu-y as any com ina preceding H. Tuere was no chure.h to attend. O ice in throe months an iti. nerunt minister called a few worshippers together in the school house. t - Marg.iret missed so sorely r.he chimfr •>f bells, her seat in the old chu.ch, ami the lieaUtiful lessons and serViee * she missed the light falling fro n stained windows, her father's tenants with their respectful looks* the sweet thrills of the organ; she missed everything hut the spirit of devotion in her own heart.— Tills she carried up to her chamber af tor the Sunday morning work was done —alter the was made trim, und her mother co nlortably settled in the easyehair, with Bible, Prayer-book, smelling hott.e, fan and George Her bert’s and Her father brushed and tidied like the infant that he was —• And h iving earned it up, she turned the attic into a little chapel and wor shipped. iShe had curtained in one side of the attic, and garnished it as prettily ns she could. Without the folds the family stores were arranged : within was the maiden’s bower Her cot stood by the square hole known as tlie win dow, wuicti she covered with musquitn bars iu tlie summer. Pictures in fanci ful frames of leaves or burrs hung about, Here Margaret salon Sabbath morning, and tried to believe herself in the old church. She read the prayers find the Psalter, and hummed the old organ notes, till all the former peace would come and encompass her. H -re, also, on this diy, she <>petV.-d a look ;d draw es, and looked at the pictured face of a young man. She was careful on every such occasion to admonish herself con never kissed it and fondled upon it, as most girls do, but heiiips and hauds trembled. “Now, M trg iret Amyrillis,’ ran her suriucn, “look at Mr. Waller Chevelier if you must, hut remember he no longer cures for you. He will come buck from India to marry some beautiful woman, and live in London, lie is rich, and tal ented and good. You are a poor far mers daughter in the United Stales, with nothing to distinguish you, and are often exceeding sinful. But there i-un he no harm in your trying to become such a woman as he would approve of Be careful, however, that you do not make an iih igo of this little miniature-, and plap tao p ipist, fir then At wul have to be tiisir.jyed, aii.l you will see the frtend who heip-i you u i more.’ Tne Amyrillis family were not troub led with Sabbath visitors, tboiign ull their neighbors went visiting on that day. J£arly in their sojourn, Mrs. Amy rillis ha 1 set the ueig.iborhooj On lire by her ej -ction of a good Wife and tiro id who came to spend the day with her. Disturbed and exasperate 1, she resen ted the intrusion euergetieilly, to the distress of her daughter and tne horror Os her husband, go-iug ‘my good we man” quite as sound a piece ot advice us if‘buy good woman" quite as sound a piece of advice as if ‘my good woman’ Had been oue of her cottagers, instead ot har American equal. M u garet fol lowed their yid.gn tot neighbor out, and begged she would n >t bo deeply offen ded at wnat Mrs. A n/nttis n»1 said, aud tiiat site w i lid let her little Children com > s«hne tulle tA be formed into a Sabbath class. But, without a word, the ueig ib »r drove off , an t Until ioag after, the Ainynllisses were not trouble 0 with vis-tois on any day, *1 think you were a tit-le b’i irp, irty dear,’ rein instrated Mr. A m/riilis.. “To be »ure, we raspaet oi la id time-honored customs, but we ought to try to Cjneili ate ’ ‘Yes, .yes-, Mr A nyrilhs,’ replied the acid laily, nodding, ‘that’s your policy, 1 know. It really seems to he yoiy mission in this world to mike way with old and time Uon >red tilings !’ Upon which Mr. Amyriliis looked around for his hat aud suu-umbrella, re marking—-‘I believe I will go out among the sheep-, my dear;’ which very appro priate thiug ue did. CHAPTER- in. So they lived on, a dull, same, life its only oreuk being an occasional visit to the nearest viiage for supplies. Margaret seized on l.llle things, and threw joy from them. A bird song would make her happy for a day. 6oine pleasant tidings m the newspaper from the old laud would unlock volumes of sweet thoughts for her. She saw all tin) tbits of the landscape. Arid when Jack Warren brought her rare wi and dowel's, she was so delighted with that he never afterward saw their delicdto taees with out being reminded of her delicate lace. This seemed the most languid sum me* Margaret had ever known. Her outer weariness was wearing in, and her inner weakness was wearing out} sd the two were likely to strike hands and form an alliance over her slight body. Hit she was young and brave. Slid fought diseases oft herself, and wrought hard to cast it out of the house. Early rains on luxuriant vegetation made the uu tutnn a sickly one. Mr. Amyvillis took the fever, tuid his wife groaned beside him in ague fits. The sloughs, whose growth of tall, dark grass had been the ouly thing to distinguish them during August days, turned to noisome ptmds,- aifd through them the doctor's hor*j of ten splashed. Mr. Amyrillis »»ghed and meekly Nourished on- his sick-bed as he hud sighed and meekly flourished lit health and cow hide boots. Hut Mrs. Amy rilfw,. shaking through all her ivy leaves, became such a doleful reminder of church yards aud grave stones, was bo querulous and exacting, that she wea ned her patient child more than any other trial. Many neighbor's, whor had les3 sick ness at home, came aud ett’ered their services to Margaret—western people do not carry their hearts in a lough per icardium—and she was grateful. Margaret’s head grew large and her neck thin ; her eyes took vivid lights; time became to her a lony drawn crisis. Tne sky and earth looked so solemn that autumn H-r cat' stalked about with a g.-innt and solemn air; the Very cocks ir, the barnyard crowed with a solemn cadence. She had a fancy of calling herself the ‘An -ient Mariner,’ but shuddered lest her Ether and moth er should become the and -ad upon the deck of her motionless ship on that mo tionless prarie sea. •She told the quaint story to Jack Warren one October morning, as he drove her from the villag* with her m >nthly supplies. Economy was then so important in the family, that she could not. trust this mis-ioti to another ‘An l if father mid mother should die !’ «he tre allied. ‘Tnat image of the ‘An. cient Marrmer’ -vould not he a more desolate thing than I. And I have committed worse si us in my life than killing an albatross. ‘Hu prxyeth best who loveth best. All things, both great and small, For the Greet God who loveth us, lie made and loveih all.’ I’m afraid it has a!w iys been my fault •o-love some persons and things very mu- h, to the exclusion <-f others.’ Jack shook tlie lines and whistled softly. He could not tell her in deli cate sentences ail that was ehQrning in lus contained bos.an, but he lay and by and by brought forth the product of tilt commotion in a compact and manly pro po«al. 4 1 don’t think there’s any danger of your father and mother dying; (nit if they do, no family on this panirie will ever see you shelterless, Margaret Am yrillis. And there’s more boys than this one would be glad to offer you a home of your own whenever you’d take it.’ Margaret recoiled, as women are apt to do when an unwelcome hand comes knocking at the inner guest chamber, and her recoil was greater because the man who had sjMtken for a place already occupied, was of what her English sense still denominated • the people.’ Stie had always placed him beneath her, and regarded him with much the same confidence und affection that she hud given to tlie respectful laborers among her father’s tenantry. Bat • a mm's a man for a’ that,’ and when he Gomes with his heart in tiis hand, is not to be disp sed, though he weie meaner than a landholding Amer ican voter, with the way to American kingship open beloi’o him. ‘ 1 know I’m not your equal,’ contin ued Jack, 'I haven't the education and the manners, but I’ll take care of you as the apple of my eye Tin well off, ami liKely to bo rich; and you couhl make such a man of me as a woman needn’t be ashamed of.’ As Margaret looked at the glowing face aud clear, simple eyes, her heart was moved toward him. ‘1 cuu’t many you, Jake.’ shfi said with kind dircciuess. ‘I love you a great ik-al to. your goodness ’ ‘My gooiiue-s ! I haven’t any, except what you iaujj»*t mo, Margaret Amy rillis,’ lie attested ‘I never saw auoth er won* ui like you 1’ • But I cannot he yclur wife. Some one (letter adapted will fill tile place you offai’ me. And I uin always your friend.’ ‘Which is about aa much a$ a fellow like me ought to ask ’ resigned Jack sadly ; ‘lull I'd ratlief have you for my friend than any other ono Eve seen hir my wife,’ he concluded, unoorrsc ously repeating a compliment that men have often paid to excellent women. As tlu-y rode on tni'ough the black t*ning twilight, he looked at her by turns, though in ire in reverence than regret. An earnestly good woman is not tost to every man eX ;eptitig the one that wins her wedlo-k. When I think of those two, dra\Vn through the sunless prarie air together —Margaret’s phle face looking on and at ttie stars, Jack’s turned aside to hers —an 1 remembe ed the struggle set be fore each, l wonder how any soul can iin Igine we came into this life for ease, and can evade our tusks like cruel chit dren. bIiAPTEk IT. lii Ihe lute October days, Margaret fell sick. Wlien Mrs. AmyrHJis grew conscious <*f tlio fact —and site had to jffi-ow into. eon.Mjiousnes* of it— great was fier ni.stiing un.l wailinln vain Margaret assured her she was ihit Very ill—Hhat she was only tired, and must rest. The lady felt sure the time had come for them ‘to die in a Heap’ and, from her manner* it did not seem the best thing Unit could happen after all. Margaret saw, through her lofty win dow, the scregr.nvn prarUs; no amber, and gold, and crimson frost bitten re lieved their dullness; and her brain grew duil as the prospect. Day and night went rapidly by, leaving her weak and spiritless. lint one afternoon, in a time when October was about to give over his gleanings to the hands of November, Margaret staggered from her cot, dress ed and -trapped herself* and sat down in her low rocker. The woman whom it had required both love and money to procure as her substitute hosekeeper, cone ilp, and lifted her hands in lisloc isrwient. ‘lf you wanted anything, why didn't you call me?’ cried Mai Ilia reproach fully. : * \ ‘1 do not want anything,’ replied Mar garet weakly, ‘except from that monot. oiious bed.’ ■l’ll make it up,’said Martha, going at it vigorously. ‘lf your bed was uu comfortable, you orto have told me.* ‘Go ! don’t mind it,’ pleaded Marga ret, ‘I do uot need any attention now at ail, and you must be tired.’ ‘And when I’Ve done it,’ proceeded Martha, who worked all the harder for being asked not to, and was secretly pleaded with Margaret’s solicitude, ‘l’m a goiu to bring you up some chicken broth; y iur mother’* had some, and she likes it. it’s prario chicken, and the broth’s good, and I’ll fry you some of tne meal, if you’ll eat it/ ‘1 know your broth is good,’ smiled the sick girl, ‘and I shall like a little, but I do uot want the try; and, Martha, when you come back, lain going to .n ike you s-it down in that chair and uot n*>vo until I have finished eating.’ ‘He! ha !■’ tittering Martha,- her pleasure outshining the good nature m'- lier face, ‘and l expect you and take all the afternoon to eat in No, you don’t ketch me restin’till rny work’sjdone. I ain’t tired 1’ So Matha elattered down atairs, with light heart though heavy shoes, and the invalid turned her face to watch the dull square of prarie her window gave her. Suddenly a horse neiglied, and di reottly across the dull oqnre he car ried his rider, a large man, with abun* dant whiskers. ‘Dear me !’ tlionght Margaret weari ly, ‘I hope it isn’t one of those cattle buyers again. He wili certainly work father up into a high fever.’ She heard the stranger, after a little space knock at the and inr; hut she heard hlso her mother utter a little cry that shot through her nerves, and shook her brain from its lethargy to the keenest sensibility, Bhe bent forward and listened, living a longer tune in that suspense, so far as activity of the mind is concerned, tbay the last months had seemed. Bhe was not trembled with surprise, therefore, but rather with the effort of selfcontr<>l, when through the gap in tlie curtains that her handmaid had left she saw Walter Clevolier’s head and smoulders appearing up the stairs Margaret tried to rise but he put her gently back, and kissed reverently the white fingers she gave him. Ho then placed a chair for himsslf near by. ‘You do not know how it .pains me to find you thus,’ h« said, turniug his dark tender eyes upon her. Margaret curtained her own from the glance. ‘I must not let you see how utterly weak I am,’ she thought.— though if lie knew, he would be too generous to use his power. He was always noble. ‘I shall soon be well again*’ she re plied. ‘You see 1 Htn obliged to make haste in my recovery, for father and mother need me so much You are making the tour of America V ‘Yes, and I could not forbear intruding on my old friends.’ ‘You afe heartily walcoine, Mr. Chev alier, as my mother has no dou'it as sured you.’ (‘I will give him loom, and i will go down to tlie settee, decided the provident little maiden, noiselessly.; •And now, what tidings for exiles do you bring from England ?’ *1 have not seen England since I last saw you ?’ replied the gentleman. Margaret looked up in astonishment. ‘Circumstances were such that I have not found it necessary to visit England for nearly three years.’ •It was nearly three years ago that fattier was obliged to emigrate,’ said Margaret innocently. ‘I am afraid these years have told on my parents.' ‘I do not think,’ said M . Cbiveiier, ‘that Mrs. Amyrillis is nearly as much changed as you are, Miss Margaret.’ Tne woman in her overmastered the woman. Pain at the loss of his admi ration throttled fear that he should learn her secret * she lifted her suffering eyes with a look that made this man’s next words decided. ‘I have something to confide to you, my old playmate, t have found a wife.’ Now the climax of all Margaret Amy ril is's trials was reached. She t urned cold us stone* Some women will un derstand what a volcano surged be neath her immovable crust. For, true to fein.nine instincts, she gave him such a calm aud frank 'I am glad, for you mffst be happy,’ and such a decidedly platonic touch from her cold hand, that lie was disconcerted, hut citing to the remembrance of that look. ‘ls she beautiful ?’ a-ked Margaret, with brilliant spots springing to her cheeks; ‘and will you return to Eugland after your marriage V ‘She is very beautiful,’ replied the gentleman reverently ; ‘and whether we leturn to England will, «>f course, de pend entirely upon herself.’ ‘Oh 1 she is an Eastern lady, then 1 And of high rank, is she n*>t V 1 i’es, she wears a coronet.’ ‘Aii l I uiuglud you will have Such aposition,’ said Margaret, her eyes spark ing s.ftly ‘lt will he a fine thing so me, who have three great brothers between my self and the paternal estates,’ laughed Mr. Chevalier. ‘I am glad it pleases you, too. Eveybody loVuS the lady 1 have chosen.’ ‘But you haven't told wo her name,’ said the young sufferer* leaning her weary cheek against her chair. ‘lt is—my little lamb! my Margue rite ! my little patient saint, whom I have sought so far and found so wor thy 1’ The fOader, who cannot see the pan liniinie in an author’s hriiu, is respect f lly iiiforme 1 that during this rhapso dy Mr. (J.ievelior held Miss Margaret Arflyrillis in his arms, whether she found herself with her midnight world inver ted and turneO to the sun a great deal quicker than such changes occur in Na ture. ‘But you said, trembled Margaret, abttost absorbed into him; sii closely did the ardent lover hold his little saint, ‘that that she—had—a coronet 1’ ‘And so she has, replied Walter, res ting one hand. *1 have learned that every eye on this prarie sees a holo of goodness around her forehead/ ‘But they love me —they are partial— they are iriy friends, sobbed Margaret, quivering with exctteigen. ‘And whom do we want td haVe par* tial to us blit frietlda wtf loVe ?’ asked Walter, with a great deal of aucouipa ninuut of look and lip pressure. Martha’s Head appeared ott the Stairs at that instant; alfd was suddenly bob bed almost Into tile bowl she carried. The careful and busy damsel want tit tering down. “That’S ’uuff siglit bet ter for her than chicken brotfl,’ she an nounced to the slignted bowl, tittering over its very face as she set it on a cup herd shelf. Do you see the pidtifre ? Do you im agine the raptuire of heart melting pure ly i to heart ? But I say reverently that Is dot Wot thy to be a figure of the joy that shall crown those who do Well hi faith, when they are possed behind the Veil 1 U3C* frequently occurs in the spring when the farmers are feeding their cows upou rutabagas, or turnips; that the infllk becOirL-s so strongly nn pregnated by their disagreeable taste and odor us to be unfit lor butter ma king. To obviate tilts, put a pinch of finely powdered saltpetre iuto every gallon of erearnr. At the last count there were 1, 238,000,000 human beings on the face of the globe. New York Lsttbr. A gentleman, born and roared at the North, and wiio is known to ihousands at the South, has sent us the following letter from New York. We will keep it on fife in our office ; Dtiar Sir .- I extract the following from Harper’s Bazaar of Feb. 12. It will doubtless be appreciated by the readers of the Southern Home : ‘A I'ttle girl, nine years old, attending a public school in- Manchester, Uonnec. tion t, having failed to recite her geog raphy lesson perfectly on a Thursday, was required on Friday to repeat the lesson for that day and the day before failed again, and, as a punishment, was required to stand on the floor in a pass.ige-a ay, where there was a draft of cold air, while she learned it. She stood there for an flour, and afterward was compelled to stand in the school room five hours longer, till site learned Thuiaday’s lesson, and for an hour more, trying to learn Friday's, and was not released until sometime after the other scholars had been sent home. 6he is said to have been full of health aud spirits on Friday morning; but on Sat urday her legs began to swell, and she suffered intensely, soon becoming deliri* ous, trying to learn Friday’s lesson which was the occasion of her pfmish went, and begging of her teacher leave to take her seat After a few days ol agony she died. An investigation was made, and the teacher found guilty of ; error iu judgment.’ The error was a very great and serious one.’ These are tlie good, pious (?) kind hsarted philanthropists who sent their missi ma y teachers to enlighten the be nignted slaveholders, and raise the poor down-trodden, negro to his tine position in society, viz: political and social equality with the white race ; and if perchance the negro, in asserting his claims to equaiity, should accidentally remove his white neighbor to make room for hunself, it will be accounted to him an 'error in judgment? and his char itable white teacher will tell him to ex ercise a little forbearance. I vfould suggest the propriety of our Northern Journals, in their daily record of mur ders, suicides, assassinations, &n., head ing the list with * Error* in Judgment.' When the faithful Northern historian sha t record tlie valorous deeds of G ant, Sherman & Cos , the humane butchers, and But er, the Beast’ (who did rob the tombs of New Orleans, and appro priate certain tabie ware belonging to helpless wotn -n, and who did not'take Fort Fisher, but who did take a half gallon or loss of. B mrbon a day,) they will do well to embody all un-fer one head of ‘Errors iu judgment.’ If our Southern friends will insist on using Northern school books and taking Noi* them periodicals, let them not be offen ded at tlie contents buts -t down every thing that is olijectionable (even though it white washes the negro, or ridicules the gentleman) as ‘Errort in Jud/M;nt.' Yours Truly, —Southern Home. The atUuwion of Lie people is just now attracted toward the fluctua non* irt the gold market, and the down* ward tendency of.a few days past ex cites muuh comment. The toiling s rug. gling. tax paying millions have been promised by the administration engin eer Cheap goodss and less taxes An I now they look upon all commodities as high in price, with gold at llff, asori the “black Friday” when it reached 160, and have a ten so and increase in taxes.— Tbe workingmen pay just as high a price for every household necessity as they did six months ago.—nut a cent reduction, and they marvel at it. But when they live longer they will feurn what faith is to be put in Radical promisee, and do what vile snliter!itg«n and tricks their oppressors are susceptible, to fi! 1 their own pockets When gold takes its inevitable leap upward, and tho ad ministration pets have by this trick fill ed their empty pockets, tlie toiling la borers will comprehend tile extent of this little S'-nsatiouai comedy in Wall Street. —New York Democrat. Cf>TTo>f Receipts.—-^ The receipts of the staple at New Orleans up to the Ist in stant amounted to 873,000 bales, about equal to the entire receipts of last year* which proves tiiat they will amount to ov r a million the present season. Tlie receipts at Savannah ilp t.d the present time are, in round numbers, 387,000 bales, or nearly 40 000 bales more than were received for the entire season last year. These reports frdm tiie two largest cotton ports iff the riouth will afford some data for estimates of tbe crop of 1860.— Sav. Republican. Hundreds and thousands and millions aud billions df robins afe perch ed On the trees along Shaw’* Greek, four miles from Hillsboro* N. G. Their roost extends over hundreds of acres, und they are picked off by thousands* by pdrsdfis wlio travel a great many miles to fill their bags upon “poor robin red-breast.*’— Sentinel. Shrinkage ix Slaughtering.—The shrinkage of hogs in butchering vaiies fftjirl one eights to one fourths o e the gross weight. A well fattened bog that Hits no’t been fed for sixteen or twenty four hours before slaughtering and will weigh 300 pounds gross* will weigh about 200 pounds dressed. It is be lieved that hogsnhat have attained ma turity, or about twenty mouths old, when fattened, will shrink less than those that are from nine to twelve months old. Beef cattle will, on the average, shrink atwrnt 40 per cent, in slaughtering i. e. the moat will equal nearly (50 p;r cent, of the gross weight. In the case of both cattle and sheep, much dejiemls upon whether they are well fattened, and some breeds, as short• horns and south downs,- show legs shrinkage than iftfier. ' B&. In Great Britain and Ireland, and also in various parts of the conti nent of Europe, weeding tongs, made of W«iod *»r iron, shaped like laige pincers and provided with grooves or teeth to hold the plants, are used by farmers for pu ting thistles out of ullage and past ure laud. V&* Milton Merrill dd, of Providence, caught fi.ty-two rats in one night, by exchanging a barrel of oats tfmt had been often visited by rats far one of.wa ter, Covering the surface with- dial?.— Tbe varmints unsuspectingly pitched Jf.j and; tact a watery grave., VOL. IV—NO. 18. Appreciation of Real Estate is S; vannah —At the City Marshal’s so yesterday, lot No 61, Forsyth vVard, ' the southern portiou of the city, vr sold f<ir $4,575, being an increase oyi the city valuation of $2,075, said 1 having been only recently valued by tli the City Assessors at 2,500. We and rect attention to this sale as indicatin the rapid appreciation of real estate i Savannah. The lot of ground nbov mentioned is unimproved, and is locate in a part of the city whion, but a fe months ago, was a waste common, »>ve grown with weeds and wild sh übber It is, however, in a portion of the cii domain which is fast being occupied b improvements, and which must, in short time, become one of l he most pop ous and elegant quarters of the city.-* The lots on the right and left of Fo syth Park, extending South, occupyin the ridge of the water shed between th eastern and western slopes, arc eligihi in every respest for private residence! the street railway, present and proi pective, making that section conveuicn ly accessible from the business centre* Those desirous of investing in city res estate will do well to give this luculit attention before the lots appreciate' !>• beyond their present estimated Savannah Morninj Newt. To What We are Coming.—Wm dell Ph ilips in a lecture before a ton audience, recently said : “If you need an amendment to th Constitution, make it; but I do not be lieve it. The XlVth Amendment cov era it. If necessary plant a squad u soidiers in every voting district in th thirty eight States, but lot the flag c the Union protect its own citixons whei ever it floats. fApplause.J Aunounc the principle that whenever a Slat neglects its duty, whenever forty house holders ,11 any district call upon th Union to protect its own ballot box, tba it shall be the duty of tiie President u the United States to send a compauy or regiment, into that section, and, soi that the pulls are kept peacefully open Disauamo.—A Yankee school-marm who has been engaged in teaching j colored school in this city for sever.) months, was arrested yesterday upon i warrant issued by a Justice of Peace charging her with seducing a colored •nan, the husband of the colored womar at whose instance the warrant was is sued. The testimony tended to provt that the parties were found in the eam« bed at th* same time. The school marrn appealed to the magnanimity o the colored lady, with many tears, and promised her that in case she wouk withdraw the prosecution she (tht school-marm) would never seduce tin culind gentleman again, whereupon th« culled lady relented, and the case wu< amicably settled. The school-marm is fair, fat and for ty, and the culhu! gentleman, who was so I need by her charms, is between fifty a.id sixty years of age-— Sav. Republic** Ax I.XTEKESnStt Calculatiox — Th Portsmouth (N. 11) States and Unio makes the following statement and cal dilation, which aim >st every transae tion in United S;a ! es bonds will verife It says; We know a man—and then are thousands of just each Cases—who in 1862, had sil)Jt) in go'd. H e sold it for $2401) in g<callbacks in 1863. With those greenbacks ho bought $240) in bonds. These bonds, of course, co>. him just SIOOO in gold. For seven years he has drawn six per cent, an uually, also in gold, ou the face of hi bonds. Six per cent, simple interest on $2400, is $144 per anuum. For thi seven years, it has amounted to SIOOO or eight dollars more than he investei ic the first place, reckoning only simp’ interest. Now, the Mirror say* : him thO face of his bonds in gold, or, ii other words, pay him $2400 in gold so what cost bun oitiy SIOOO. So now, » the end of seven years, be receives Principal, $2400; interest, $1008; to tal $3408 tu gold, for what cost him on ly SIOOO. It is a net profit of rnoi than 240 per cent. A SIGX FROM THE GoLD ROOM —. New York correspondent of a Puilade phia paper writes : “To prove how little confidence th operators themselves have in the pertna nency of the gold room, I need morel to mention that where lasi year the asked a bonus of $2 500 for a Gold Ex change membership there, they ask to day only SIOOO, and SOOO is all that i costs to become a member of the Goh -Boom.” A Remarkable Case of tjie Susfen sro.v of Life.—A daughter of /osiul King, brother of ex-Governor King o linode Island* now lies dead in Stou mgton, Connecticut, yet such is the ru markable preservation of her feature and complexion, and such the retentioi of warmth in the body, ibat the be* medical men are iu doubt as to wbelb er the case is one of actual death or oi ly temporarily suspended animalion.- All the ordinary testa of life and deat lead to tbe inference that she is reall dead* while absence of other phenomu uu of death leads to a counter cooclii sion. The case is c.msiderd oae of th j most reuiarkable on record. It will no only start new discussions in tho scier tifij world, but it will biiug into impot tance the inventions for protecting th buried against the dangers of the grav or vault, where inanimation is in doubt Chinese Coming. —A corresponded writes to the Savannah Hepub imn a follows: “I learn from a friend in Bon Kong, under date of the ,Ith January that two Southern gentlemen, Meesn Gift and Williams, were then the? mating arrangements t) send one thoi sand Chiu*;.,e laborers to Savannah an New Oilcans, My correspondent add •oat these gentlemen found no difficult in engaging the Chinese. He do-.s no however specify tbe terras of their cot rads.” A Goon Thing.— Tb-rs Coven ion t the Methodist, Church, at Syracuse, N Y., the head quartern of Spiritual iei and Abolitionism bus resolved to mak no efforts at re-union with tho Meth< dist Church Smith. This was tbe rigl tiling ill the right phet, — Exchange, Down on ths Da itKiy.—After Brat in the everlasting nigger a to fume aud fortune, lives I JJ* r T C< ’. n - better spare Afn< . !'" r . L^ingffoo”— a continent blacks throne Vhibj qg?-