Newspaper Page Text
13Y J. P. SAWTELL.
E. H. PURDY,
Manufacturer of
Harness and Trails,
Wholesale and Betail Dealer in
All {kinds of Sadlery Ware,
Comer of Whitaker and Bryan Sts.,
SAVANNAH, GA.
tgy* Orders for Rubber Belting, Hose and
Tacking; also, Stretched Leather Belting,
ti lied promptly. sep 1 7-6 m
J. GUILMARTIN. JOHN FI.AKNKKV.
L. J. GUILMARTIN & CO.,
Cottoii Factors,
AND
General Commission Merchants,
Bay St., Savannah, Ga.
Agents for Bradley's Super Phos
phate of Lime, Powell's Mills
Yarns and Domestics , etc.
Bagging, Rope and Iron Ties, al
io ways On hand.
337~ Usual Facilities Extended to Customers.
A. J. MILLER & CO.,
FURNITURE DEALERS,
150 Broughton Street,
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
WE HAVE ON HAND, and are con
tinually receiving, every variety of
Parlor and Bedroom Sets,
Bnreane, Washstands, Bedsteads, Chairs,
Rockers, Wardrobes, Meat Safes, Cradles,
Cooking Glasses, Feathers, Featherbeds, Pil
lows. etc.
Haft-, Mots, Shuck and Excolcior Matrasses
-on hand, and made to order.
Jobbing and Repairing neatly done, *nd
with despatch.
We ara fully prepared to fill orders.
Country orders promptly attended to.
All. letters of inquiry answered promptly.
sept7-6iu.
MARIETTA HARBLE YARD.
»T AM-PREPARED TO FURNISH
Marble, Monuments,
Tombs, Head and Foot Stones,
* Vaces r Urns, Vaults, etc.,
At very reasonable terms , made of
Italian, American and Georgia
MARBLE.
IRON RAILING Put Up to Order.
Tor Information or designs address meat
this place, or
DR. T. 8. POWELL, Agent,
Cuthbert, Ga.
Address,
J. A. BISAVER,
sepl7 Cm Marietta, Ga.
~ GEORGE S, HART & CO., i
Commission Merchants,
And Wholesale Dealers in
Fine Butter, Cheese, Lard, etc.,
39 Petal and 2$ Bridge Sts., N. V.
pgT Butter and Lard, of ail grades, pnt up
in every variety of package, for Shipment to
Warm Climates. sepl7-6m*
REED « CLMIKE,
lfo. 22, Old Slip, New York.
~V thGALEBS IN
provisions,
Onions, Potatoes, Butter, etc.
septl7-6m
ELY, OBERHOLSTER & CO,,
Importers and Jobbers in
• X '
Dry Goods,
Nos. 329 tt 331 Broadway,
! I £l Corner of Worth Street.
Mfkti-ini I¥ew York.
pm
QSBVaTER WHEEL,
Mill Gearing,ShaflintXPulleys
'f-SEHD FORA CIRCULAR.
. GEORGE PAGE & GO.
‘No. 5 N. Schroeder Hit., Baltimore.
Manufacturers of
PORTABLE AND BTATIONART
Steam Engines and Boilers
PATENT IMPROVED, PORTABLE
Circular Saw Mill
Gang, Mulay and &uh Saw Mills,
<Gri«t Mills, Timber Wheels, Shingle Me
ichdnes.&c. Dealers in Circular Saws, Belt-
Itrg and MiH ««K>r> |if ‘ 8 generally, and nuumtae
fn ref’s agents for I> Wei’s Celebrated Turbins
Wafer Wheel and every description of Wood
Working Machinery. Agricultural Engines
a Specially.
MT" Send for descriptive Catalogues & Price
Lusts, Sepl7 ly.
CUTHBERT jH| APPEAL.
®|c Cutjjkrt &gptj,
Terms of Subscription.:
Oxb Year. ... S3 00 | Six Months $2 00
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
m- No attention paid to orders for the pa
per un'eSs accompanied by the Cash.
Rates of Advertising;:
One square, (ten lines or less.) SI 00 for the
first and 75 cents for each subsequent inser
tion. A liberal deduction made to parties
who advertise by the year.
Persons sending advertisements should mark
the nnmber of times they desire them inser
ted, or they will be continued until forbid aud
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
Obituaty notices over five lines, charged at
regular advertising ra»ea.
All communications intended to promote the
private Snds 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.
• 7 “ I
Two Workers.
Two workers in one field
Toiled on from day to (lay,
Both had the same bard labor,
Both hod the same small pay ;
With the same blue sky above,
The same green grass below— A
One soul was full of lava,
The other full of wo*. 4a
One leap’d op with the light,
With the soariug of the lark ;
One felt it ever night,
For his soul was ever dark.
One heart was hard as stone,
One heart was ever gay,
One worked with many a groan,
One whistled all the day.
One had a flower-clad cot
lies kle a merry mill,
Wife and children near the spot
Made it sweeter, fairer still.
One a wretched hovel had,
Full of discord, dirt, and din,
No wonder he seemed mad—
Wife and children starved within.
Still they worked in the same field,
Tolled on from day to day,
Doth had the same bard labor,
Both bad the same small pay.
But they worked not with one will,
The reason let me tell—
Lo 1 the one drank nt the still,
And the other at the well.
Three Kisses.
I’ve had three kisses in my life,
So sweet and sacred unto me
That now, tit* death-dews rest on them,
My lips shall kissless be. i
One kiss was given in childhood’s hour,
By one who never gave another ;
In life aud death I still shall feel
That last kiss of my mother.
The second burned my lips for years,
For years my wild heart reeled in bliss
At every memory of the hour
When my lips felt young love's first kiss.
Tbc last kiss of the sacred three.
Had all the woe which e’er can move
The heart of woman—it was pressed
Upon the death-lips of my lore.
When lips have felt the dying kiss,
And felt the kiss of burning love,
And kissed the dead—then nevermore
In kissing should they think to move.
Tyranny of Fashion.
One is almost ashamed Vo speak
of fashion. It is or i6 of thoso ob
stinate things tb:»t will not budge.
It is the only th’.og that a bad name
will not kill, Liko the hydra, it
always lr;,g two heads for the one
cut off, a vitality that the highest
a’jtl holiest things have never yet
stood up against. I can conceive
that fashion might become not the
minister of high art alone, but of
•morals and virtue; that in the
hands of the noble and pure, and
the broad and true, it might become
& real boon to man. Herbert Spen
cer says,—
“As those who take orders are
not those having a special fitness
for the priestly office; as legislators
and public functionaries do not be
come such by virtue of their politi
cal ineight and power to rule, so
the self-election clique who set the
fashion, gain this prerogative, not
by their force of nature, their in
tellect, their higher worth or better
taste, but solely by their unchecked
assumption
, “Instead of * continual progress
towards, greater elegance and con
venience, which might be expected
to occur, did people copy the ways
of the really .best, or follow their
own ideas of propriety, we have a
reign of mere whim, of unreason,
of change for the sake of change,
of wanton oscillations from either
extreme to the other —-a reign of
usages without meaning, time with
out fitness, dress without taste. —
And thus life ala mode, instead of
being life conducted in the most
rational manner, is life regulated
by spendthrifts and idlers, milliners
and tailors, dandies and silly wo
men !”
Oh, that we should so stoop—we
who call ourselves, i* churches,
children of God, and claim that the
Almighty hath given us understan
ding—that we should stoop to be
come puppets that will respond to
any pull that vulgar men or women
choose ?
— a The thoughts that come to us
have more value than those we get
by seeking. They start up under
our feet, in the path of life, like
those springs that .burst forth un
der our tread without thinking of
them,”
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1870.
Trifles.
One half of the people in this
world are engaged in such little and
foolish matters, that the other half
has quite enough to do -to wonder
at them. Os course it is a usual
trick of such people as the former
to magnify the importance of what
they do, and to fancy that they are
of great weight and moment in the
world’s affairs, while, in reality,
they are no'more than the fly on
the coach-wheel was to the coach as
a motive powbr. Why we take up
this trifling and little method of
spending lile is not easy to say ; it
is not because we know no better
—for, as our best and most philoso
phical poet has shown us that it is
very easy to know what is right,
and what should be done, the diffi
culty lies in doing it. “If to do
were as easy as to know what to
do,” he says, “chapels would be.
churches, and poor man’s cottages
princes’ palaces.” And we are all
struck with the extreme truth of
the remark. And yet, from youth
upward, we hardly ever do what we
really ought, and as much as we
ought.
We turn away from the serious bus
iness of life, and take to the trifles;
we delay, aud put oft', and procrasti
nate, till it is too late; and then we
wonder at our folly in neglecting
the great events of life, and deplore
our misery in dying too soon. This
frivolity seems natural to man.—
Even as a child he shuns the proper
task in hand, and, with time and
opportunity before him, will throw
both away on some absurd scheme,
although he knows that a neglect of
study will surely bring him punish
ment in the morning.
Old people say, seqfentiously, and
we write it when young in our copy
books, and repeat it when we are
old, that “trifles make up the sum
of human existence,” whereas in re
ality they do no such thing. That
must be a poor existence which is
made up of them. We are born for
something nobler and better. In
fact, with regard to man, it is a
very hard thing to say what is, and
what is not a trifle. In the general
acceptation of the terra, it would
be easier to prove that there are no
trifles than that there are. Human
existence depends upon constant
and enduring hard work and hard
thought from a great portion of
mankind. . With all of us, trifles
weigh and form character.
“A kiss from my mother,” said
West, tne President of the Royal
Academy, “made a painter.”
An apple, fulling at a particular
juncture, gave Newton that train
of thought which led to his most
important discoveries. What .is a
trifle ? Is it a smile or a frown—a
light word of praise or of blame,
accidentally dropped ? If so, these
have led to wars, to the establish
ment of some great phases of reli
gion, to the destruction of whole
empires, and to the foundations of
others. The neighing of a horse
the crowing of a cock, the cack
ling of geese, are every day trifles,
yet upon and by the .results springs
nig from these &n empire has been
founded, a dynasty perpetuated,
arid republic saved. The greater
the mnn, the more he will think up
on tribes.
From a particular trifle often de
pends our whole after life. A smile
or a sneer, a kind word or a harsh
one, will be remembered through
life. It is but an uncalculating and
a little mind which demands a
great surprise, a great example or
a loud noise to make each of the
important events of existence.
‘‘The great moments of life,”
says a wise writer, “are but mo
ments just like others. Your doom
is spoken in a word or two. A
single look from the eyes, a mere
pressure of the hand, may decide
it; or of the lips, though they can
not speak.”
“ "Even the am all cause of anger or disgust
Will break the bonds ot amity ’rnongst
princes,
And wreck their noblest purpose.”
What is true of political and com
mon life is true also of science.
“ Well, Mr. Franklin,” said one,
“ you have proved, as you say, that
electricity and lightning are identi
cal ; but what is that ? It is a small
thing.”
“ Yes,” replied the philosopher ;
“so is a child a small thing; but it
may become a man.”
When Galvani was experimenting
on the dissection of a frog, hid wife,
Signora'Galvani, observed that the
muscles of the dead frog twitched
and moved when accidentally in
contact with two metals; and to
this the discovery of galvanism is
laid, which has already*played some,
important parts in the world, and
may yet. play many more. We’
realty do not know, and never can
determine, at the time of incidence,
the importance of any action. Each
action commences or carries on a
chain of consequences which only
terminate with onr existence itself;
and this reflection is alone sufficient
to put an end to that wide assertion,
that life is made up of trifles, just
its a pyramid is composed of sepa
rate grains of sand.
'—A young gentleman having
called in his physician, said, “ Now,
sir, I wish no more trifling. My
desire is, that yon at once strike at
the root of my disease 1” “It shall
be done,” replied the^doctor; and
lifting his cane, he smashed the
decanter which stood on the table.
A gentleman who had been vic
timized by a notorious borrower,
who always forgot to pay, called
him the most promising man of hfs
acquaintance, •
From the Waverley Magazine.
Geometrical Progression.
When the game of chess was first
made known there was a rich and
powerful prince so well pleased
with it that he, in an outburst of
enthusiasm, offered to grant any fa
vor the inventor deemed it proper
to ask.
The inventor, a keen, shrewd, far
sighted man, wishing to teach him
that eyen to an heir of royalty some
things were impossible, very mod
estly replied that he would only ask
one grain of wheat on the first
square of the chess board, two on
the second, four on the. third, and
so on in geometrical progression,
till the last, or sixty-fourth square.
The prince laughingly assented
to this, to him, very moderate de
mand, but he had not gone far to
wards granting it before he discov
ered his mistake, and his utter inca
pability to perfom that which he
had promised to do, for he saw that
he had not, nor ever would have,
wheat enough on his whole domain
to grant liis novel request.
8o much for a traditional story,
the authenticity of which I will not
vouch for; but having felt some ca.
riosity upon the affair, I have taken
great pains to work out the long
and tedious problem, and also to
actually count enough wheat to
give the exact number of grains in
a bushel, and the number in a
square foot, aud upon which basis
I have made the following calcula
tion, some of which appeared in
print several yearssince, while some
are entirely new, the whole of
which I will vouch to be correct.
The number of grains upon the
64th square is 16,446,744,020,019,-
900,416. Now if four grains laid
leDghtwise equal an inch, and the
circumference of the earth is 25,-
000 miles, we have wheat enough
in the last square to encircle it 3,.
307,343,442 times. In a bushel of
wheat there are 927,000 grains,
which, if divided into the number
of grains in the last square, gives
us 17,730,426,929,732 bushels.
Allowing the population of the
earth to number 1,200,000,000, and
each one to consume 10 bush
els yearly, and there is enough to
sustain this vast number 1,477
years, or a period nearly as long as
from the birth of Jesus Christ up
to the present time.
Place this wheat in a column one
hundred feet square, aud it would
rise to an altitude of 38,119,520
feet, or nearly 7,590 miles. Place
it in wagons, each one containing
100 bushels, and allowing 30 feet
to every wagon, we would have a
train 10,073,532,803 miles inlength
—long enough to reach from the
earth to the sun 106 times.
This example in geometrical pro
gression teaches us a lesson we
should, always remember —teaches
ut not to despise a thing because
it is small, for it, like the grain of
wheat upon the square of the chess
board, may lead to unlooked-for and
wonderful results.
A. L. Watson.
The Wife.
Here is the best tribute to wo
man, we over read:
Only let a woman be sure she is
precious to her husband—not use
ful, not valuable, not convenient
simply, but lovely and beloved ; let
her be the recipient of his polite
and hearty attentions, let her feel
that her cares and love are noticed,
appreciated and returned, let her
opinion be asked and her approval
sought; and her judgment be re
spected in matters of which she is
cognizant; in short, let her only be
loved, honored and cherished, in
fulfillment of the marriage vow,
and she will be to her husband, her
children and society a well spring
of happiness. She will bear pain,
aud toil and anxiety, for her hus
band’s love to her is. a tower and a
fortress. Shielded and sheltered
therein, and adversity will have
lost its sting. She may suffer, but
sympathy will dull the edge of sor
row. A house with love in it—and
by love I mean love expressed in
words, and looks and deeds, for 1
have not one spark of faith in love
that never crops out —is to a house
without love, as a person to a ma
chine; one is life, the other a mech
anism, the unloved woman may
have bread just as light, a house
just as tidy as the other; but the
latter has a spring of .beauty about
her, a joyousness, a penetrating
and pervading brightness to which !
the former is an entire stranger.—
The deep happiness of her heart
shines out in her face. She gleams
over. It is airy, and graceful, and
warm aud welcoming with her pres
cnee; she is full of devices and
plots, and sweet surprises for heT
husband and family. She has nev
er done with the romance and
poetry of life. She herself is a
lyric poem setting herself to all
pure and gracious melodies.—
Humble household ways and duties
have for her a golden significance.
The prize makes her calling high ;
and the end sanctifies the means.—
“ Love is Heaven, and Heaven is
love.”
—A countryman stopped 'at the
Maxwell House, Nashville, for din
ner. The waiter inquired what he
would have, and was told to bring
“ something of what he had.” The
waiter brought him a regular din
ner upon small dishes, as is the usu
al form, and set them around his
plate. The countryman surveyed
them for a moment, and then broke
out: “ Well, I like your samples;
now bring me some dinner.”
Pay The Printer.
Summer’s going ttry fast,
Soon will come the winter,
Take advice and in a trice,
Go and pay the Printer.
Every little helps yon know,
Does not take a mint, or,
Heavy purse like Croesus had,
Settling with the Printer,
Happy heart yon then will have
Care you then may inter,
For the thought that you have brought
Joy unto the Printer.
Smiles will wreath hi3 face, and though
Fierce may come the winter,
You’ll blest the day yon did pay,
What you ow'd the Priuterr
The Fear of Death-
Above all things, the fear of
death should be valiantly combated.
“Tolove life without fearing death,”
said Hufeland, “is the only means
of living happy and dying at a good
old age.”
People who dread death seldom
attain longevity. If death presents
itself to us under a repulsive and
terrifying aspect it is solely owning
to our habits and prejudiceshaving
perverted our feelings. Montaigne
just shid that it is darkening
the room, the faoes full of grief ana
desolation, the moaning and crying,
that make death terrific. Civiliza
tion, by investing death with the
most lugubrious associations that it
can conjure up, has also contribu
ted to rendering it a hideous spec<
tre. It is the reverse with the pa
tient. In nine cases out of ten
death is not only a relief, but almost
a sense of voluptuousness. Sleep
daily teaches us the reality of
death. “Sleep and cleath aro twins,”
said the poets of antiquity. Why,
then, should we fear death when
we daily invoke its brother as a
friend and consolation ? “Life,”
said Buffon, “begins to fall long be
fore it is utterjy gone.” Why then,
should we fear death when we dai
ly invoke its brother as a friend
and a consolation ? “Life,” said
Buffon, “begins to fail long before
it is utterly gone.” Why then,
should we dread the last moment,
when we are prepared for its advent
by so many other moments of a
similar character ? Death is as nat
ural aS life. Both come to us in the
same way, without our conscious
ness without our being able to de
termine the advent of either. No
One knows the exact moment when
he goes to sleep, none will know
the exact moment of his death. It
is certain that death is a pleasurable
feeling. Lucan used to say that
life would be unsupportable to man
if the gods had not hidden from
him the happiness he would experi
ence in dying. Tullius Mareellinus,
Francis Suarez and the philosopher
La Mettrie, all spoke of tiie volup
tuousness of their last moments.—
Such are the consolations which
philosophy presents to timid minds
that dread death. We need not
say what much higher and loftier
consolations await the Christian who
is firm aud steadfast in bis faith,
and has before him the prospect of
eternal life.
A Word to Mothers.
Each mother is a historian. She
writes not the history of empires
or of nations on paper, but she
writes her own history on the im
perishable mind of her child.
That tablet and that history will
remain indelible when time shall
be no more. That history each
mother shall meet again, and read
with eternal joy or unuterable grief
in the coming age of eternity.—
The thought should weigh on the
mind of every mother, and render
her deeply circumspect, prayerful
and faithful in her solemn work of
training up her children for lieavou
and immortality.
The minds of children are very
susceptible and easily impressed.
A word, a look, may engrave an
impression on the mind of the
child which no lapse of time can
efface or wash cut. You walk
along the sea shore when the tide
is out, an I you form characters or
write words or names in the
smooth white sand which is spread
out so clear and beautiful at your
feet, according as your fancy may
dictate; but the returning tide
shall in a few hours wash out and
efface all you have written. Not
so the linos and characters of truth
and error which your conduct im
prints on the mind of your child.
There you write impressions for
the everlasting good or ill of your
child, which neither the floods nor
the slow moving ages of eternity
can obliterate. How careful should
each mother be in her treatment of
her child!
How prayerful and how serious,
and how earnest to write the eter
nal truths of God on his mind—-
those truthes which shall be his
guide and teacher when her voice
shall be silent in and lips no
longer move in prayer in his behalf,
in commending her dear child to her
covenant God.
Husrand— “lf I were to lose
you, I would never be such a fool
as to marry again.” Wife—“lf I
were to lose you, I would marry
again directly.” Husband—“My
death would be regretted by at least
one person.” Wife—“By whom ?”
Husband—“My successor.”
An old lady who Was asked
what she thought of the eclipse,
replied : “ Well, it proves one thing
—that the papers don’t always tell
■»
Daniel s Time of the End. : 1
Every time there is a cornet, an
eclipse, an earthquake, or one of
those big wars which are popularly
supposed to make ambition virtue,
we are called upon to read and ad
mire in the newspapers any nnmber
of articles touching the probable
bearing of the event on the fulfill
ment of prophecies as recorded in
the sacred Scriptures. The war in
Europe has started the Church Un
ion a going in this line. Taking
Daniel’s “seven times” as beginning
•at the birth of Nebuchadnezzar,
and as divided into two equal peri
ods of 1,260 years, it ends the first
period at about A. D. 603 to 615,
and the second at A. D. 1863 to
1875. The same persecuting pow
er, typified by Daniel’s “little horns”
and by the “ten horned beast,” the
“false prophets,” and the “harlot”
of the Apocalypse, is to close its
career at the end of the second pe
riod. Recapitulating the stirring
events in Europe, it adds that “but
one feature, the conversion of the
Jews, remains to complete the
verification of the theory bt the
great commentators, thatrtho decade
in which we* are living is at the
close of the great propbetie period,
and the beginning of Daniels time of
the end.” Things were explained
pretty much in the same way da
ring the late war in this country.—
That little coolness between the
two sections was to end in a gener
al knock-down-aod-drag-out, be
tween all the nations of the earth,
somewhere in the valley of the Mis
sissippi, and then—the Millenium.
But from some cause or other,
which lias never been satisfactorily,
explained, the South and North
were the only parties named in the
programme that ptit in an appear
ance at the appointed time, and the
thing, fell through. This, with the
help of the dozens of other instan
ces of the same sort, should teach
the religious press that it is worse
than a waste of time to attempt to
force the scriptural prophecies and
foreshadowings to dovetail with the
events of our time. —Louisville
Courier.
“There is a certain mysterious
tact of sympathy and antipathy by
which we discover the like and un
like of ourselves in others’ charac
ter. You cannot find out a man’s
opinion unless he chooses to express
them; but his feelings and his char
acter you may. lie cannot hide
them; you feel them in his look
and mien, and tone and motion.
“There is, for instance, a certain
something in sincerity and reality
which cannot be mistaken—a cer
tain sotnethhg in real grief which
the most artistic counterfeit cannot
imitate. It is distinguished by
nature, not education. There is
something in an impure heart which
purity detects afar off. Marvellous
it is how innocence perceives the
approach of evil which it cannot
know by experience, just as the
dove which has never seen a falcon
trembles by instinct at its approach.
Just as a blind man detects by finer
sensitiveness the passing of the
cloud which he cannot seo over
shadowing the sun. It is vvon
•drous how, the truer we become the
more unerringly we know the ring
of truth—discern whether a man
be true or not, and can fasten at
once upon the rising lie in word,
and look, and dissembling act. —
Wondrous how the charity of Christ
in the heart finely perceives the
slightest aberration from charity in
others, in ungentle thought or slan
derous tone.”
Good Sense.— The great trouble
among American youth is the lack
of application and thoroughness in
what they undertake. Anything
that cannot be learned with super
ficial study, is given the go-by for
something less tedious and irksome.
Study and hard labor are looked at
from a wrong standpoint; and, as
a consequence, the clerkship rauks
are full of unemployed and half
starved young men, and the profes
sions are overflowing with medioc
rity, while good mechanics find
plenty of work at living prices.—
The evil spoken of is felt seriously.
Those who work a trade do it in so
loose and careless a manner that
they are not competent to do the
work they promise to do. Among
the loudest deolaimers for the rights
of labor, are men and women who
can claim no rights that belong to
labor well performed.
Don’t Lean Upon Others. —Half
at least of the disappointed men we
meet are victims of ill-grounded
hopes and expectations, persons who
have tried to lean upon others, in
stead of relying upon themselves.
This leaning is* poor business. It
seldom pays. Energetic men (and
they are generally the,class looked
up to for aid) do not like to belean
ed on. If you arc riding in a rail
road ear, and a great hulking fellow
lays his head on your shoulder and
goes to sleep, you indignantly shake
him off. It is the same in business.
The man who does not at least at
tempt to hoe his own row need not
expect, any one to hoc it for him.
It is nonsense for any man to pre
tend to the dignity of being unfor
tunate who has depended upon oth
ers, when he might have cloven a
way to fortune for himself.
An old lady bought a shroud
for her husband the other day, re
marking, that he wasn’t dead yet,
or particularly ailing; but she
didn’t think that she should ever
be able to bay it so very cheap
again.
The Young Widow.
A census-taker, going his rounds,
stopped at an elegant brick dwell
ing the exact locality of which is
fio business of ours, .
He was received by a stiff, well
dressed lady, who could bo well
recognized as a widow of some
years standing.
On learning the mission of her
visitor, the lady invited him to take*
a seat in the hall. Having arranged
himself into a working position, he
inquired for. the number of persons
in the family © £ the lady.
“Eight,” replied the lady, “inclu
ding myself”
“Very well—vour age, madam.”
“My age, sir,” replied the lady,
with a piercing, dignified look, “I
conceive its none of your business
what my age might be. You are
inquisitive, sir.”
“The law compels me, madam,
to take the age of every person in
the ward; it is my duty to make
the inquiry.”
“Fell if the law compels you to
ask, I presume it compels me to an
swer. lam between 30 and 40.”
“I presume that means 35.”
“No, sir; it means no such thing
—I am only 3%years of age.”
“Very well, madam”—putting
down the figures—“just as you say.
Now for the ages of the children—
commencing with tho youngest, if
you please.
“Josephine, my youngest, is 10
years of age.” * . ... *
“Josephine—pretty name 10.”
“Minerva was 12 last week.”
“Minerva —captivating—l 2.”
“Cleopatra Elvira has just turned
15:”
“Cleopatra Elvira—charming—
“ Angelina is 18, sir; just 18.”
“Angelina—favorite name—jß.”
“My oldest and only married
daughter, sir, Anna Sophia, is little
ovjer 25.”
“Twenty five, did you'say ?”
“Yes, sir. Is there anything re
markable in her being of that age?”
“Well, no, I can’t say there is;
but isn’t it remarkable that you
should haVe been her mother when
you were only eight years of age?”
About that time the census-taker
wag observed funning out ©f the
house—why, we do not know. It
was the last time he ever pressed a
lady to give her exact ago.
Think of tipe Poor. —llow
much of true religion is with the
|»oor. Christ seems to have taken
them under his special charge. His
gospel was preached to the poor;
and this was one of the signs which
he sent to John the Baptist iu pris
on. With his own blessed hands
he fed the poor by a creative act,
haviug compassion on them when
they fainted. His miracles, we
have reason to think, were in a
large majority of instances wrought
upon the poor ; and the “ common
people heard him gladly.” The
apostles at Jerusalem were always
anxious that Paul should remember
the poor. And when Christ shall
sit on his throne of judgment he
will make inquisitions coacerning
all we have done, or failed to do, in
regard to the hungry, the naked,
the stranger, the prisoner, and the
sick ; and will regard us as having
done, or failed to do, all this to
himself.
There are powerful motives to
make us think of the poor. When
it is well with us, we should re
member them ; when we hear the
storm beating upon oar habitations,
and yet are securely sheltered,
warmed, fed, sitting over our books
or among our children, we should
think of the poor.
Identification of tub Prus
sian Dead.— There is something,
says a correspondent, extremely
toachingin apractice wliich exists in
the German army, and which, lam
told by Prussian officers, only com
menced with the present war.—
Every officer, and commissioned
officer and soldier has a card stitch
ed outside his tunic or jacket, upon
which was written his name, the
number of his regiment, the letter
of his company and the designation
of his native village, as well as of
the province in which the village
is situated. Whenever a dead, sol
dier is found, the first thing done
is to cut off this card and deliver
it to an officer of the brigade,
whose particular duty it is to col
lect the names of the dead. There
no sooner is an engagement over
than the name and native place of
every dead soldier is known, and
relatives have at least the consola
tion of knowing as soon as they
lose a relative.
- If wo ceuld only read each
other’s hearts, we should be kinder
to each other, if we knew the
woes and bitterness and physical
annoyances of our neighbors, wo
should make allowances for them
which we do not now. We go
about masked, uttering stereotyped
sentiments, hiding our heart-pangs
and our headaches as carefully as
we can; and yet we wonder that
others do not discover them by in
tuition. We cover our best feel
ings from the light; we do not so
conceal our resentments and our
dislikes, of which vve aro prone to
bo proud- Life is a masquerade at
which few unmask, even to their
very dearest. And though there is
need of much masking, would to
Heaven we dared show our real
fancies from birth to death, for
then some few, at least, would truly
love each otheri
—To ascertain the number of
loafers, start a big dog fight.
VOL. IV—NO.
Revenue and Outlay—What
Taxes are Abolished.— ~\Vash
ington, October 1 MtQ revetm*3br
September amounts to nearly $13,-
000,000. The Treasury disburse*
ments for the month were 947,250,.
000, the largest item being $6,500',*
000 for Indians and Pensions,
The new,internal revenue law, re
pealing all taxes on gross receipts
and sales, except of tobacco, dnuff,
cigars and spirits, and abolishing
the use of stamps on all receipts for
money and on proifKssory notes of
less denomination than SIOO, on
billiards, and also all taxes imposed
by schedule A of June 30th, 1864/
take effect to-day, and hereafter no
taxes are to be collected on any of
the above named articles.
Schedule A, which ceased to ex
ist yesterday, required taxes to be
paid on carnages, gold watches, bil
liard tables, gold and silver plate,
etc. The tax on brokers’ sales are
not repealed by law,, as was errone
ously stated.
Coin in Treasury, $96,000,000;
currency, $37,000,000.
The debt statement shows a de
crease of $9,000,000.
Sayings by Josh Billings. —The
man who lives on hope must pick
tho bones of disappointment.
The devil is said to be. the father
of lies. If this is wybo Ua* gos *
largo family and a great moony
promising children among them.
Life is like a mug of beer, froth
at the top, oil in the middle, and
settlings at the bottom. *
We should live in this life as
though ivo war walking on glaze
ico, liable to fall at enny moment,
and tew be laffed at hi the bystand
ers.
Men, if they ain’t too lazy, live
Buratimes till they are 80, aud de
stroy the time a good deal oz fol
lows : The fust 30 years thoy spend
throwing stuns at a mark; the sec
ond 30 they spend examining the
mark tew see whar the stuns hit,
and the remainder iz divided in
cussing the stun throwing bizzincss
and nussin the rumatizz. ; *'
This settling down and folding
our arms and waiting for something
to turn up, iz just about az rich a
speculation az going out into a 4uo
acre lot, setting down on a sharp
stun, with a pail between onr knees
and waiting for a cow to back up
and be milked.
Smiles. —Nothing on earth can
smile but human beings. Gems
may flash reflash compared with an
eyeflash and mirtbflash! A faoo
that can not smile is like a bud that
cannot blossom.
Laughter is day and sobriety is
night, a smile is the twilight that
hovers gentlv between both, and is
more bewitching than either. It is
possible for us all to wear a smile
or a frown at our own option.-
Either becomes habitual from fre
quent repetition-.
■ i I
A gentleman told his servant
to haul away a great heap of rub
bish in his back-yard. The servant
objected that it could not be emp
tied anywhere within the city lim
its. “Then dig a trench aud bnry
it.” “lint, sir, where shall I put
the earth that comos out of the
trench ?” “Stupid 1 can’t you make
it big enouglit to hold both ?”
—The Danbury, Conn. “ News ”
of a recent date says: “ Sunday be
ing a balmy day, the styles were
brought out. The most richly
dressed lady we saw is the wife of
a man who has owed this offioe thir
teen dollars for nearly three years.
He says he cannot raise the mouoy,
and we believe him.”
—A colored preacher comment
ing on the passage, “Be ye there
fore wise as serpents, and harmless
as doves,” said that the mixture
should be made in the proportion
of a pound of dove to an ounce of
serpent.
A man out West, who read
that dry coperas put in a bed of
ants would cause them to leave,
put some in his mother-in-law’s
bed, to see if she wouldn’t go. He
says she was there at last accounts.
lie was a poetical man who
described ladic’s lips as “the glow
ing gateways of beans, pork and
potatoes.”
“Bridget, what became of the
tallow 1 groasod mjr boot® with this
morning V” “I fHod the buckwheat
cakes in it.” “Oh. I was afraid
yon had wasted it.
Woman has this advantage
over man; that his will has no op
eration till he is dead; whereas
hers generally takes effect in her
1 detune. .
All efforts to make hay by
gaslight have failed, but it is dis
covered that wild oats can be sown
under its benign and cheerful rays.
The man who sat down on a
paper of tacks said they reminded
him of the income tax.
Young lady physicians are
multiplying throughout the eouio
try, and consequently the young
men are decidedly more sickly than
they used to be.—
They tell of a man out # West
whose hair is so red that he has to
wear fly-nets over his cars, to keep
the candle-moths from flying in.
—“I have a great love for old
hymns,” said a pretty girl-to her
masculine companion. “lain much
fonder of young hers,” was his re
p!y-.
There is a poor fellow at Ban
gor who says “it’s working be
tween meals that’s killing him.”