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F J. P. SAWTELL. M E.H. PURDY, W Manufacturer of Harness an! Traits, and Retail Dealer in .. of Sadlery Ware, 4 H,f wiiflaker and Bryan Sts., V Bbavannah, ga. Baders for Rubber Belting, Ilose and also, Stretched Leather Belting, Kited promptly. aepl7-6m JOHN FLANNERY. L, J. GUILMARTIN & CO., Cotton Factors, AND General Commission Merchants, Bay St., Savannah, 6a. Agents for Bradley's Super Phos phate of Lime, Powelts Mills Yarns and Domestics, etc. Bagging, Rope and Iron Ties, al ways on hand. tsr Usual Facilities Extended to Customers. sep]7-6m A. J. MILLER & CO., FURNITURE DEALERS, 150 Broughton Street, SAVAMAH, GEORGIA. WE HAVE ON HAND, and are con tinuully receiving, every variety of Parlor and Bedroom Sets, Bureaus, Washetands, Bedsteads, Chairs, Rockers, Wardrobes, Meat Safes, Cradles, Looking Glasses, Feathers, Featherbeds, Pil lows. etc. Hair, Moss, Shuck and Excelcior Matrasses on hand, and made to order. Jobbing and Repairing neatly dor.e, and with despatch. We are fully prepared to All orders. Country orders promptly attended to. All letters of inquiry answered promptly. scpl7-6m. MARIETTA MARBLE YARD. J AM PHEPARED TO FURNISH Marble, Monuments, Tombs, Head and Foot Stones, Vaces, Urns, Vaults, etc., At very reasonable terms, made of Italian, American and Georgia M A Pt B L E . IRON RAILING Put Up to Order. For Information or designs address me at ibis place, or DK. T. S. POWELL, Agent, Cntlibcrt, Ga. Address, J. A. BISATVER, sepl7 -6m Marietta, Ga. georgeTs. hart <Tco~ Commission merchants, And Wholesale Dealers in Fine Butter, Cheese, Lard, etc., 39 Pearl and 28 Bridge Sts., N. Y. |®” Butter and Lard, of all grades, pnt np In every variety of package, for Shipment to Warm Climates. sepu-fim* REED & CLARKEr No. 22, Old Slip, New York, DEALERB IN PROVISION S, Onions, Potatoes, Butter, etc. Beptl7-6m j ELY, OBERfIOLSTER & CO., Importers and Jobbers in Dry Goods, J¥os. 329 & 331 Broadway, * Corner of Worth Street. «epls-6m l¥cw York. rnMWMM WHEEL, Mill Gearing, ND FORA CIRCULAR.,*^ GEORGE PAGE & CO. J?o. 5 AT. Schroeder St., Baltimore. Manufacturers of PORTABLE AND BTAWONART Steam Engines and Boilers, (Patent improved, portable Circular Saw mill Gang, Mulay and Sash Saw Mills , ©list Mills, Timber Wheels, Shingle Ma cbiirea, &.o. Dealers in Circular Saws, Belt ing and Mill supplies generally, and manufac turer’s sgents for Leßtel'a Celebrated Turbine Water Wheel and every description of Wood Working Machinery. Agricultural Engines a Specialty. Send for descriptive Catalogues & Price Lists. »epl7-ly. CUTHBERT jig APPEAL. @l* €uf|ktt gijiptl. Terms of Sribsoription.: One Year....s3 00 | Six Months....s2 00 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. No attention paid to orders for the pa per unless accompanied by the Cash. Hates of Advertising : One square, (ten lines or less,) $1 00 for the first and 50 cents for each subsequent inser tion. A liberal deduction made to parties who advertise by the year- Persons sending advertisements should mark the number of times they desire them inser ted, or they will be continued until forbid and charged accordingly. Transient advertisements must be paid for at the time of insertion. Announcing names of candidates for office, $5.00. Cash, in all cases. Obituary notices over five lines, charged at regular advertising rates. All communications intended to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, So cieties, or individuals, will be charged as ad vertisements. Job Work, such as Pamphlets, Circulars, Cards, Blanks, Handbills, etc., will he execu ted in good style and at reasonable rates. All letters addressed to the Proprietor will be promptly attended to. From the LuGrange Reporter. A Mother’s Sorrow and Comfort. At midnight’s hour, while others slept, From troubled dreams we woko and wept, For death had o’er our threshold crept For little Aurelia. The watchman’s lamp was burning low— We could not see our loved one go; There waa no sound, no cry, but 01 Our darling Amelia. So still sb« lay—eo very still— White as the snow-flakes on the hill; We touched her cheek, it gave a chill; Our little Aurelia. Our hearts with grief were running o’er, For little Pearl we ceased not to deplore, Who died a few brief days before Our little Aurelia. And now another—help tie, Lord, By the dear promise of thy word, To drink the cup which thou hast poured, Os grief for little Aurelia. We kissed and laid her from our sight Iu all her childish beauty bright, Down iu the grave’s cold quiet night, Our lovely Aurelia. ’Twere hard to turn to life again, Through everything—the dying pain Revived iu nature—all in vain For little Aurelia. Then faith, with sweet assurance, said, “Behold, the lovely one is not dead Up with the angols overhead, Sings little Aurelia. And not alone her tiny feet Went upward in the “golden street Our angel Pearl came forth to meet Dear little Aurelia. Two sweet twin sisters, hand in hand, In his dear presence joyful stand, Who called them to his better land, Our Pearl and Aurelia. Ten months on earth, but now they sleep ; Infant springs guardian angels keep ; Why should she—can a mother weep For the Pearl and Aurelia? In spirit land they’ll both grow strong, And shout hosannah around God's throne, Waiting 1o welcome poor mother home— Both Pearl and Aurelia. LaGrange, Sep. 6, 1870. Mother. Would Sing It. —A story is told of an old clergyman who had the most unbounded faith in Watts’ hymn-book. He was fond of say ing that he could never open to any page without finding an appropri ate hymn. A mischievous son of his thought it would be a good joke to test his father’s faith. So he took an old song and pasted it on one of the pages of the book, over a hymn, so nicely that it could not be easily detected. At church, on Sabbath morning, the minister hap pened to open at that very page, and commenced to read : “Old Grimes is dead.” There was a sensation in the audi ence. He looked at the choir and they looked at him; but such was his faith in Watts’ hymns that he undertook it again, commencing with the same line. There was another sensation in the audience. Looking at it again, and then at the choir, said he, “Brethren, it is here in the regular order in Watt’s hymn-book, and we will sing it, any how.” Can a Mother Forget? —Can a mother forget? Not a morning, noon or night bat she looks into the corner of the kitchen where you read Robinson Crusoe, and think’s of you as yet a boy. Moth ers rarely become conscious that their children are grown out of their childhood. They think of them, advise them, write to them, as if not full fourteen years of age. They cannot forget the child.— Three times a day she thinks who are absent from the table, and hopes that next year, at the far thest, she may have “just her own .family there,” and if you are there, look out for the fat limb of a fried chicken, and that coffee which none but everybody’s own mother can make. The Indianapolis Journal says that a pious young lady of that city was last Sunday-, endeavoring to impress upon her scholars the terrible effects of the punishment df Nebuchadnezzar. She said that for seven years he ate grass just like acowi Ju6l then a sknall boy asked: — “Did he give milk ?” We are not informed as to the teacher’s reply. CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER.I, 1870. The Fatal Glass. “Cousin Walter, won’t you drink my health ?” and Fanny Lacy turn ed from the merry group, and held the tempting glass of wine almost to his lips. Now, Walter Frazier was a man of strong impetuous na ture, and had inherited with it a fondness for dissipation. Ho led a wild, wreckless life, and had been regarded by many as a hopeless case; but he had astonished his friends, all at once, by his abrupt discontinuanc of his old habits, and a steady application to his business. Yet no one knew what a struggle it cost him to do so. No one knows the mental agony he endured in trying to cast off the temptation which constantly haunted him, and sought to cast him down from the position he had reached. It was, with him, a continual effort; for in the society in which he moved, not a day passed that he did not expe rience a temptation to abandon liis resolution, and indulge “just once” in the dangerous pleasure. His friends were by no means so strict in their habits, and they frequently urged him to take a glass, and he scarcely attended an entertainment that he was not offered wine ; all these offers were quietly refused ; but sometimes he felt that the effort would snap his heart strings. He made the struggle bravely through. He firmly resolved never again, to taste intoxicating liquors; for he knew himself w 7 ell enough to be assured that his first glass would lead to another, and his old thirst once aroused, he could not toll where it would end. But how could he refuse hislittle cousin Fan ny, the only one he had loved dear ly from childhood ? And this was .the night of her bridal; and they, perhaps, would never meet again. CoulcPhe refuse her last request ? Again her voice sounded in his ear: “Please Walter, you remem ber it is the last, last time I shall ever ask you.” And the bright blue eyes looked up at him through their dim mist of tears. The temp tation was too great, and raising the glittering goblet to his lips, he drained it to the very bottom ; but that was not all—five—six glasses were drained, during that evening, and when Walter Frazier left the house that night, he knew that he was a ruined man. The demon of intemperance was now aroused, and he rushed to the nearest saloon, to allay his burning thirst drank more, drank deeply, and then reeled home, and lay all night in a drunken stupor. Day after day the same was repeated, night found him in the 6ame condition “There is a man at the door that won’t be sent away, Ma’am,” said Bridget, thrusting her head into Fanny Lacy’s, or rather Mrs. Mor ton’s pleasant sitting-room. “Nonsense Bridget; what is the nse of coming to me with such stuff? Os course he will go away if you tell him to go.” “But ho says he is an old, old friend, and must see you.” “Well, show him in,” and Mrs. M. threw her book down petulantly, and awaited his coming. “Walter Frazier !” she exclaimed, as a man with bloated face and blood-shot eyes staggered into the room. “Yes, lam Walter Frazier. Ah ! you may well clasp your hands, you beautiful temptress, who wrought my woes ! But for you, I, to-day might be a noble, upright man, fill ing the station God created me for. Five years ago, you tempted with a glass of wine, and I loved you so dearly I could not refuse, but from that hour I was rained. And now, Fannie Morton, look well on the wreck before yon. Raise your hands to heaven, and thank God this is your work.” Ere she could reply, he was gone. She threw herself down on the floor, and lay there all night sob bing in her wretchedness; and when morning came with its fresh ness and light, Bridget rushed in her room, saying: “Oh, Ma’am ! please come to the front door for a minute.” She did so; and on the marble step, stiff and cold lay the last of the once noble, generous Walter Frazier, the victim of in temperance. Aud now, my readers, by this true, yet simple story take warn ing. Never offer to another, this hateful poison, or it may, like Mrs. Morton, embitter your life forever. —Ruby Mortimore. Antidote fob Poisons. —A plain farmer says,—“lt is now twenty years since I learned that sweet oil would cure the bite of a rattlesnake, not knowing it would cnro other kinds of poison of any kind, both on man and beast. I think no far mer should be without a bottle of it. in his house. The patient must take a spoonful of it internally, and bathe the wound for a cure. To euro a horse it requires eight times as much asit does for a man. Here let me tell of one of the most ex treme cases of snake bites in this neighborhood. Eleven years ago this summer, where the case had been thirty days standing, and the patient had been given np by his physicians, I heard of it, carried the oil and gave him one spoonful, which affected a cure. It is an ant idote for arsenic and strychnine-. It will cure bloat in cattle by eating too freely of fresh clover; it will cure the sting of bees, Bpiders, or other insects, and will cure persons who have been poisoned by a low Tunning vine, grovving in the mead , ows, called ivy.’* Concerning Memory. It is a very curious fact that there is a general decline in the power of memory since the art of printing has been so widely diffused. A book is an artificial memory.— You treasure up thoughts and in cidents there, and take it down from your shelves and refer to them whenever yon please. In old times, before this was possible, learned men carried about with them in their hands whole treaties, ency clopedias, dictionaries. Themistocles had a memory so extraordinary that he never forgot what he had once seen or heard.— Seneca could repeat two thousand proper names in the order in which they had been told him without a mistake; and not only so, but he could repeat two hundred verses recited to him for the first time by as many different persons. Thomas Cranwell—it should have been Cramwell—committed to memory in three months an entire transla tion of the Bible, as made by Eras-- mus. Leibnitz was called a walk ing dictionary. He knew all the old Greek and Latiu poets by heart, and could recite the whole of Vir gil, word for word, when an old man. It was not lack of books, either, that stimulated the memory of the last named scholar. Such instances were by no means uncommon among the learned men of two or three generations ago. Buffon knew all his own works by heart. Samuel Johnson retained with as tonishing accuracy every thing he had even perused, no matter how hastily. Byron could recite nearly all the poems he had ever read, to gether with the criticism on them? A little before his death, fearing that his memory was failing him, and wished to test it, he proceeded to repeat a number of Latin verses which he had not called to mind since leaving college, and only failed in one word. The memory of Cuvier, the nat uralist, was the most wonderful one of Bis age. He has not only retain ed the names of all plants, animals, fishes, birds and reptiles, classified under every system of natural sci ence, but he also remembered, iu their minutest details, all the things that had been written about them, in all times. His knowledge in al most every other department was equally minute and entensive.— Just before he died, he wrote in his diary:— •‘Three important works to pub lish—materials already prepared in my head—it only remains to write them down.” For some reason or other, memo ries of this kind are much less com mon in our day than they were fifty or a hundred years ago. Perhaps we live too fast, now-a days, to get the clear, comprehensive, accurate knowledge of a subject which must be the indispensable condition of remembering it clearly and for rver. Or shall we flatter ourselves with Ihe belief that this age strikes its roots deeper, deals with thoughts rather than words, and so has less need of mere verbal memory? Memories of some kinds we all have—it is the one thing which makes the man himself. If it be true that every particle of our bodies is changed once iu seven years, memory is the surest guardi an of personal identity. Cicero, after long thinking about it, con cluded that it was the strongest proof that the soul was immaterial and immortal. Destroy it, and the chief value of life would be taken away. What would an existence be worth that had not, could never have, any yesterday—to which came no tender whispers from the morning land of youth, no words whose very echo thrills steady-going old age with indefinable bliss? To forget is indeed to be annihilated. Leabn all You Can.^- Never omit any opportunity to learn all you can. Sir Walter Scott said, that even iu the stage coach, he al ways found somebody who could tell him something he did not know before. Conversation is frequently more useful than books for purposes of knowledge. It is, therefore, a mistake to be morose and silent among persons whom we* think to be ignorant; for a little sociability on your part will draw them out, and they will be able to teach you something, no matter how ordinary their employment. Indeed, some of the most sagacious remarks are made by persons of this kind, re specting their particular pursuit.— Hugh Miller, the geologist, owes not a little of his fame to observations made when he was a juourneyman stone mason, and working in a quarry. Socrates well said there was but one good, which is knowl edge, and one evil which is igno rance. Every grain of sand goes to make up the heap, A gold dig ger takes the smallest nuggets, and is not fool enough to throw them away because he hopes to find a huge lump some time. So in acquiring knowledge we should never despise an opportuni ty, however unpromising. If there is a moment’s leisure, spend it over good or instructive talking with the first you meet. A negro preacher accidentally read a well-known verse. “My feet are as hen’s feet,” instead of “hind’s feet.” “You will observe, my bredren,” he said, “that a hen in the hen- roost, when it falls asleep, it tightens its grip so as not to fall off. And dat’s how true faith, my breddren, holds en t© ae rock.” Curiosities of Breathing. The taller men are, other things being equal, the more lungs they have, and the greater number of cubic inches of air they can take in or deliver, at a single breath. It is generally thought that a man’s lungs are sound and well developed in proportion to his girth around the chest; yet observation shows that slim men as a rule will run faster, and further, with less fa tigue, having more wind than stout men. If two persons are, taken in all respects alike, except that one measures twelve inches more around the chest than the other, the one having the excess will not deliver more air at one breath, by mathe matical measurement than the oth er. The more air a man receives into his lungs in ordinary breathing, the more healthy he is likely to be; because an important object in breathing is to remove impurities from the blood. Each breath is drawn pure into the lungs; on its outgoing, the next instant, it is so impure, so perfectly destitute of nourishment, that if re breathed Without an admixture of a purer atmosphere, the man would die.— Hence, one of the conditions nec essary to seoure a high state of health is, that the room in which we sleep should bo constantly re ceiving new supplies of fresh air through open doors, windows, or fireplaces. If person’s lungs are not well developed,“the health will be imper fect, but the development may be incroased several inches in a few months, by daily out-door runnings with the mouth closed, beginning with twenty yards and back, at a time increasing ten yards every week, until a hundred are gone over thrice a day. A substitute for ladies and persons in cities, is running up stairs with the mouth closed, which compels very deep inspirations, in .a natural way to the end of the journey. As consumptive people are declin ing each week is witness to their inability to deliver as much air at a single out-breathing as the week be fore ; hence the best way to keep the fell disease at bay is to main tain lung development. It is known that in largo towns, ten thousand feet above the level of the sea, the deaths by consump tion are ten times less than -in pla ces nearly on a level with thq sea. Twenty-five persons die of consump tion in the city of New York, where only two die of that disease in the city of Mexico. All know that con sumption does not prevail in hilly countries and in high situations.— One reason of this is because there is more ascending exercise, increas ing deep breathing; besides, the air being more rarified, larger quan tities are taken instinctively into the lungs to answer the requirements of the system, thus at every, breath keeping up a high developement.— Hence, the hill should be sought by consumptives, and not low flat situ ations.—Hall's Health Tracts. Be Saving. —But in saving be not mean and stingy—but waste nothing and save all you can. Take care of the pence, and you will have no trouble in looking after the pounds. In some families there is enough wasted to support two or three children and a pig to boot, and yet the members are always poor. They don’t manage right.— They don’t look after the bits of bread, the scraps of cloth, the chips of wood. Nothing should be wasted that can possibly be cut to use. The paper and twine that come about your coflee and sugar, when you buy in small quantities should not be thrown into the fire. They will be of use at some future time. Old hats and old shoes might be laid aside for mending, or to ex' change for something you may need of the peddler. Crusts of bread must not be put on the shelf to mould. Peel your potatoes and not slice them in taking of the par ing. Don’t sweep your brooms into the fire and suffer them to burn up. A good broom will last a prudent housewife a great while. It isn’t necessary to have a fresh dinner every day. Warm over what was left the day before. This is the course to pursue if you would be come independent. We will defy a wasteful, careless family to be come rich. It is impossible. We do not advocate narrow', contracted habits. God know r s wo despise such creatures as well as he. They are abhorrent to our nature, and smell rank to ns as to Heaven. But we would have you prudent and saving, and make the most of everything carried into the house. Take care of your clothing and your food; suffer not a crumb of bread or a po tatoe paring to be lost; lose not a needleful of thread, or burn up a scrap of cotton the weight of a musquitoe. In well regulated fam ilies nothing is lost. At this day when every thing is made use of, how important that care should be taken to preserve everything. Old shoes and dry bones can now be turned into a penny as well as ash es and old rags. Be economical in all your habits, and you will soon be above want, yea more—you will gradually acqure property, and if you live long enough, become rich. Swearing. —“ Mother did you ever hear sissy swear ?” “No, my dear; whatdid she say ?” “Why, she said she wasn’t going to wear her darned stockings to church I” Jersey Lightning. BY JOSH BILLINGS. Who it waz that invented alcho hol, I am unable tew tell, without lieing, but it would have bin a fust klass blessing, for the rest ov us, if he and liker, had both ov them been spilt on the ground, and never bin sopped up since. The Devil with all hiz genius for a ten strike could not have rolled a ball, more serviceable for hiz buzzinoss on earth ; one more certain tew quar ter on the head pin, and sweep the alley every time. Rum iz the dev il’s stool pigeon, hiz right bower, hiz high low, Jack, and tko game. A grate menny, with dispeptick morals, argy, that licker iz indis pensible for manufaktring and dok tor purposes, aud also for mekani cal uses, and they hold that yu kouldn’t raize a barn, that would stand, without enny good old ja maka rum, aud sum say, that pud ding sas, without any spirits in it, iz no healthier than common grease gooze. But awl ov these argys are furnished free ov cost, by the devil himself and enny man who advan ces them, iz telling (without know ing it perhaps) lios, that will weigh, at a ruff estimate, at lest a pound peace. But mi ohjekt in these fu preliminus remarks, iz tow git a good chance to tell what I know about “Jersey lightning,’* one ov alchohol’s imps, az a raanufactring and metaphysikal agent. Jersey lightning is cider, brandy, three hours’ old, still born, aud quicker than a flash. This juice iz drunk raw at all sports, and makes a premoditory and hissing noise az it winds down the thrut, like an old she goose sitting on eggs, or a hot iron stuck into ice-water. Three horns a day of this licker will tan a man’s interior in six months, so that he kan swollo a live, six-footed krab, feet fust, and not waste a wink. It don’t fat a man (cider don’t) like whiskee duz, but puckers him up like fried potatoze. If a man kan survive the fust three years of Jersey lightning, he iz safe then for the next 75 years to come, and keeps lookin every day more and more like a three year old perpe pod, hotter and hotter. An old ci der-brandy-drinker will steam, in a sudden shower ov rain, like a pile of stable manure, and his breth smell like the bung-hole of a rum cask, lately ompted. When Jersey lightning iz fust born it tastes like bileing turpentine and cayene, half and half and will rise a blood blis ter on a pair ov old cowhide bro gans in 15 minutes, and applied eternally will kure the rumatism and kill the patient, I forgot which. The fußt a man takes of this licker will make him think he haz swal lowed a gas light, and he will go out behind the barn, and try tew die, but kant. The eyes of old ci' derbrandist look like deep gashes cut into a ripe tomato, hiz nose iz the eomplexshun of a half-biled lob ster, and the grizzle in his gullet sticks out like an elho in atim lead er. The more villainous the drink the more inveterate are those who drink it. I kau’t tell yer whether cider brandee will shorten an old sucker’s days or not, for they gen erally outlive all the rest ov the naburs, and die just as soon as the old tavern stand changes hands, and is opened on temperance principles. One bottle ov sassaparilla or ginger popp iz az fatal tew these old fellers az a rifle ball iz tew a bed bugg. Religious Oxen. —A gentleman traveling in Texas met on the road a wagon drawn by four oxen, driv en by a countryman, who in addi tion to the skillful flourish and crack of his whip, was vociferously encouraging his horned horses af ter this fashion : “Haw Presbyteri an!” “Gee, Baptist!” “Whoa, Epis copalian 1” “Get up, Methodist!” The traveler stopped the driver, remarking that he had strange names for his oxeD, aud that he would like to know why he thus called them. Said the driver, “I call this ox Presbyterian, because he is true blue; hut if the yoke gets a little too tight he kicks aud tries to draw clear of the traces. I call this Baptist, because he is al ways after water, and seems as though he’d ne v er drink enough; then again he won’t eat with the others, I call this ox Episcopalian because he has a mighty way of keeping up the good looks of iny team by holding up his head and appearing dignified. I call this ox Methodist, because he puffs and blows, and bellows, as he goes along, and you’d think he was pulling all creation, but he don’t pull a pound unless you continually stir him up.” Looking foe a Berth. —While the boat was lying at just ready to start for Louisville, a young man came on board leading a blushing damsel by the hand, and approaching the clerk:— “I say,” he exclaimed “me and my wife has j ust got married, and I’m looking for accommodations. ” “Looking for a berth ?” hastily inquired the clerk, passing tickets out to another passenger. “A birth? thunder and lighting, no 1” gasped the young man, “we ain’t hut just got married! we want a place to stay all night, you know, and —a bed.” Teacher —Boy at the foot of the class, spell “admittance.” Boy —“A d-m-i-t-t-a n-c-e.” Teacher— “ Give the definition.” Boy —“Fif- ty cents, children half-price; front seats reserved for ladies.” Early Riches. There are young men here who are going to be rich; and let me tell you—aud you will never forget this—that you must not be rich for yourselves alone, but that you must organize your riches so as to make folks happy, if you want to he re membered. Do this, and as long as the world stands you will never be forgotten. And if you want to know what to do, let me tell you to commence doing something to-mor row. A man who is going to do good with his money wheu ho shall have got a great deal of it, makes a bargain with the devil; and the devil outwits him. Where men are going to use their money so that it will do good when they get through with it, the Lord is apt to get through with them before they think of being through with * their money. If you want to he benevo lent by and by, be benevolent now. Form the habit of being benevolent by giving at least a little of your medns for benevolent purposes as you go along. It is not a bad rule to lay down, for every man to say to himself: “I will spend for other people one-tenth of the clear income that I receive.” It is not a mere professional saying. I tell- you, if you give away a portion of the prof its of your business for the benefit of others, it will sanctify tho rest. It will bring a moral element into your life. Say to yourself: “I will give ono-teuth part of my receipts, whether those rooeipta ave large or small; and it shall go for the good of others, and not of myself.”— Wherever yon are, and whatever circumstances you are in, do some thing that shall go on honefitting men after you are dead, if it is only to plant a tree or a bush to beautify a house or enhance the comfort of travellers. Do not be contented with simply helping your own self. Essay on Tobacco, by a Small Boy. —Tobacco grows something like cabbages; but I never saw none of it boiled, altogether I hav.e eaten cabbage and vinegar on it, and I have heard men say that cigars that was given to them on election days for nothing was cabbage leaves. Tobacco stores are mostly kept by wooden Injuns, who stand at tho door and try to fool little hoys by offering them a hunch of cigars which is glued into Injun’s hands and is made of wood also. Hogs do not like tobacco; neither do I. Tobac co was invented by a man name Walter Raleigh. When the peo ple first saw him smoking they thought he was a steamboat, and as they had never seen a steamboat, they were frightened. My sister Nancy is a girl. I don’t know whether she likes tobacco or rtut. — There is a young man by the name of Leroy who comes to see her. I guess she likes Leroy. He was standing on the steps one night, and he had a cigar in his mouth, and he said he didn’t know as she would like it, and she said, “Leory, the perfume is agreeable.” But next morning, when my big brother Tom lighted his pipe, Nancy said, “Get out of the house, you horrid crea ture, the smell of tobacco makes me sick” Snuft‘is Injun meal made out of tobacco, I took a little snuff once, and then I sneezed. The Charms of Life. —There are a thousand things in this wide world to afflict and sadden, hut, oh ! how many that are beautiful and good ! The world teems with beauty—with objects that gladden the eye and warm the heart. We might be happy if we would.— There arc ills that we cannot es cape—tho approach of disease and death ; of misfortune ; the sunder ing of early ties, and the canker worm of grief; hut a vast majority of evils that beset us might be avoided. The curse of intemper ance, interwoven as it is with all the ligaments of society, is one which never strikes us but to des troy. There is not one bright page upon the record of its progress; nothing to shield it from the hear tiest execration of the human race. It should not exist; it must not.— Do away with all this; let wars come to an end ; and let friendship, love, truth, charity and kindness, mark the intercourse between man and man. We are too selfish, as if the world was made for ns alone. How much happier would we be were we to labor more earnestly to promote each other’s good! God has blessed us with a home that is not all dark. There is sunshine everywhere—in the sky, upon the earth —there would be in most hearts if we would look around us. The storm die away, and a bright sun shines out. Good reigns in heaven. Murmur not at a Being so bountiful, and we can live hap pier than wc do. —A woman should never, under any circumstances whatever, lose her temper. “Might as well tell a March wind not to Wow on a March day, or the rain not to come down in April. It does them good to “explode” occasionally. A woman, to be good for anything, must have as much spice and sparkle in her as a bottle of champagne, and it the cork comes out, once in a while, with a bang, why that don’t do-pre ciate the value of the goods. When a man and woman are made one by a clergyman the ques tion is, which is the one. Some times there is a long struggle be tween them before this matter is finally settled. YOL. IV—NO. 41 - An Irishman writing a sketJh of his life, says he early ran away from his father, because he discov ered he was only his uncle! A young man charged with being lazy was asked if he took it from his father. “I think not,” was the reply, “father’s got all the laziness he ever had. —On a tombstone in a church yard in Ulser is the following epi taph : ‘Erected to the memory of John Phillips, accidentally shot as a mark of affection by his brother.’ Courting is an irregular active trasitive verb, indicative mood, present tense, third person, singular number, and agrees with all the girls—don’t it ? Somebody says that females go to meeting to look at each oth er’s bonnets. That’s downright scandal! They go to show their own. —“I say, Arthur, I wish you’d go and kiss my sister ! There she is. “All right—what for?” “Why, because, then, I could kisa yours.” —An Irishman being in church where the collection apparatus re-» sembled election boxes, on its being handed to him, whispered to the clerk that he was not neutralized and could not vote. A lady took her littlo boy to ohurch for tho first time. Upon hearing the organ he was on his f«et in stau tor. “Sit down,” said the mother. “I won’t,” he shouted, “I want to see the monkey.” A youth was lamenting to his father the ordeal of popping the question. “Pooh !” said the patri ach, “how do you suppose I man aged?” “You needn’t talk,” res ponded the young hopeful; “you married mother, and I’ve got to marry a strange girl.” “Ah,” said a conceited young person, “I have this forenoon been preaching to a congregation of asses.” “Then that was the reason you called them beloved brethren ,” re plied a strong-minded lady. One’s happiness depend great ly upon the feeling of the heart. — If sunshine is there, it will radiate out and make every thing in the ex ternal world beautiful, or, at least, it will give the surrounding objects a bright side that they may bo con templated with pleasure. “William, thee knows I never call anybody names ; but, William, if the Mayor of the city were to come to me, and say ‘Joshua, I want thee to find me the biggest liar in all Baltimore,’ I would come to thee and put my hand on thy shoulder, and say to thee,‘William, the Mayor wants to see thee.’ ” —ln a religious excitement in a country town, a person mot a neigh bor, who took him by the hand, and said: “I have become a Christian." “I am glad of it,” was the reply, “for I suppose we shall now have a settlement of that littlo account be tween us. Pay me what thou owest.” “No,” said the new-born Chris tian, turning on his heel, “religion is religion, and business is business.” Hero we have a few moro chunks of wisdom from that old jo ker, Josh Billings. When a man loses his health, then he fust begins tu take care of it. This is good j udgment, this iz! Most people decline tew learn on ly by their own experience. I guess they are moar than one has rite, for I don’t sevpose a man can get a per fect idee of molasses kandy by let ting another feller taste it 4 him. It iz gittin so now a-daze if a man kan’t cheat in sum way he ain't happy. Success in life iz verry apt tew make us forget the time when we wasn’t much. It iz jist so with a frog on the jump; he kan’t remem her when ho was a tad-pole—but other folks kan. An individual to he a fine gentle man has either got to be born so, or brought up so from infancy; he kan't learn it suddenly any moar than he kan learn how to tork In jun correctly praktising on a tom inyhawk. I serposc Adorn iz the only mart who ever lived and wasn't never spanked. I have often set down square on the ise, by having my feet git out of place, but I never eood see enny thing in it to laugh at (espeshila if thar waz sum water on the ise,) but I notiss other folks kan. Shortening the Hours of Study. —The Akron, Ohio, Board of Education, in their annual re port, just published, state that school hours there have been re-» dueed—thoso of the primary de partment to two sessions of two hours each, divided by a recess, and those in the other schools to two sessions of two and a half in stead of three hours each, as here tofore. The Board says: “Full grown and robust adults who meas ure a child’s power of brain and muscle by their own tough tissues, may feel distressed at this seeming waste of time by the little folks; but it is alike the teaching of obser vation and physiology that in many cases irretrievable mischief to both the mind and body of the child comes from too long gontinued re straint aud brain work iu the school room.