Newspaper Page Text
VOL. V.
THE
EUREKA
unmn ion
SrPEll-PJIOSPHATE
OF
LIME
Is for 6alc at
All Points of Importance
m GEORGIA.
WE HAVE SOLD IT
FIVE SUCCESSIVE YEARS,
ANI) KISOW
It is the very Article
FOB
PLANTERS TO USE.
DAVID DICKSON, Esq.,
Os Oxford, says
It is superior to any
COMMERCIAL
FERTILIZER
He has ever applied, and
RECOMMENDS If
TO EVERYBODY.
WE SOLD OVER
Two Thousand Tons
IN GEORGIA
XjAST yeah.
IT HAS BEEN TRIED
AND ALWAYS
PAID
THE
PLANTER.
Send for a Pamphlet. An Agent
tnay be found at almost every De
pot, but information can always be
had of
F. W. SIMS & CO.,
Savannah, Ga.
Agent at Cuthbe-rt, Ga.,
/
R. H. JONES.
Agent at Fort Gaines, Ga.,
SIJTLIVE & GRAHAM.
jan2o-3m
CUTHBERT jj§| APPEAL.
A Pro e 1 am a t ion.
GEORGIA.
By Rufus B. Bullock,
Governor of said State.
WHEREAS, official information has been
received at this Department that John A Par
ker, a citizen of the county of Lumpkin, while
in the act of aiding and assisting the Sheriff of
said county of Lumpkin, while in atleeting the
arrest of A. J. Blackwell and one Henry
Spencer, was shot'at by the said Blackwell
and severely wou- d-d.j .and
Whereas, the; said A J. Blackwell and Hen
ry Spencer, aiden by one John Spencer, in U.u
resisting and obstructing legal process, and and
make their escape, and are now at
Now, therefore, in order that they may be
brought to a speedy trial and punishment fur
the offense -with which they, and each of them
stands charged, I, Rufus B. Bullock, Gover
nor of said State, do hereby issue this, iny
proclamation, offering a reward of five hun
dred dollars, each, for th# arrest and delivery
of the said A. J. Blackwell, Henry Spencer,
and John Spencer, to the Sheriff of said coun
ty of Lumpkin.
Given under my hand and the great Seal of
the State, at the Capitol in Atlanta, this 22d
day of March, in the year of our Lord Eigh
teen hundred and Seventy-one, and of the
Independence of the Uni ed States of Amer
ica the Ninety-fifth.
RUFUS B. BULLOCK.
By the Governor :
David G Cutting, S cfetary of State.
DESCRIPTION:
The said A J- Black well is about v 2 or 23
yeaisofage, lots dark eyes and hair, weighs
atiom 150 pounds, L about 5 feetfi inches high,
and speaks nu'Ckly when addiessed.
The said Heniy Spencer is about 22 years
old. 5 feet 7 in.-hes high, rather spare made
weipliH about. 13.» pounds, liaa,light hair, iair
complexion, bine eyes, and a scar o« bis faoe
®r iitck, js Very couiteous in manners, and
speaks<|uii kly when questioned.
The said John Spencer is abont 28 years old,
rather corpulent, about fi feet high, weighs
about 21)0 pounds has fair complexion, light
lunr and blueej es. One of Ids legs is a little
short, wl.i li causes a slight limp in walking,
mat 'd I •It
A PROCLAMATION.
GEORGIA:
By Rufus B. Bullock^
Governor of said State.
WHEREAS, Official information has been
received at, this Department that a murder
was committed in the county of Bibb, upon the
body of Gus Redding, by one Henry Love, as
is alleged, and that said Hove, a person of col
or, has fled fronijusticß :
I have thought proper, therefore, to issue
this, my proclamation, hereby offering a re
watd of five hundred dollars for the appre.
beusion and delivery of the said Henry Love,
together with proof sufficient to convict, to
the Sheriffcf said county and State, in order
that he may be brought to trial for the offense
with which lie stands charged.
Given nuder my hand and the great seal of
the State, at the Capitol, in Atlanta, this fif
teenth day of March, in the year of our
Lord Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-one
and of the independence of the United Slates
of America the uiuety-fifth.
RUFUS B. BULLOCK
By the Governor :
David G. Cutting, Secretary of State,
mar 2-1 4t
A Pi'oclamation.
GEORGIA.
By Riiiiis B. Bullock,
Governor ol* said State.
WHEREAS, official ■information has been
receieved at this Department that a murder
was committed in the county of Muscogee, on
the night of the 24th February last, upon the
body of Brooks Walker, colored, by one John
Aaron as is Ueged, and that said Aaron has
tied from justice : •
1 have thought proper, therefore to issue
this, my proemmation, hereby offeiiug a re
ward ol live hundred dollars for the appreheu
sion and delivery of the said Aaron, with proof
sufficient to convict, to the Sheriff of said coun
ty and State, in order that he may be brcuglit
to trial for the ofleuse with which he stands
charged.
And I do inoreover charge and require all
officeis in this State, civil and military, to be
vigilant in endeavoring to apprehend the said
Aaron.
Given under my hand and the great seal of
the State at the Capitol ia Atlanta, this
eighth day of March, in the year of our
Lord Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-One,
and of the Independence of the United
States of America the Ninety filth.
RUFUS B BULLOCK.
By the Governor f
David G. Dotting, Secretary of State,
marl 7 4t
A Proclamation,
GEORGIA :
By Rufus B. Bullock,
Governor of said State.
WHEREAS, Official information has been
. eceived at this Department that a murder
was committed in the county of Chatham on
or about the 20th February last, upon the body
of Chavis D ivis, by one Ricliatd Grant, as is
alleged, and the said Grant has fled from jus
tice:
I have thought proper, therefore, to issue
this my proclamation, hereby offering a re
ward of FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS for
the apprehension and delivery of the said
G rant, with proof sufficient to convict to the
Sheriff of said county and State, in ordei
that he may be brought to trial for the of
fense with which he stands charged.
Given under my hand and the Great Seal of,
the State, at the Capitol in Atlanta, this
thirteenth day of March, in the year of our
Lord Eighteen Hunered and Seventy-one,
and of the Independence of the United
States of America, the Ninetv-fifth.
RUFUS B. BULLOCK.
By the Governor:
David G. Cotting, Secretaiy of State.
mar!7-4t
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, APRIL 7, 1871.
®jjt Cntjjkrt
Terms of Subscription:
One Year....s3 00 | Six Months —s2 00
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
No attention paid to orders for the pa
per uu'ess accompanied by the Cash.
Rates of Advertising :
One square, (ten lines or less.) $1 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 ad vertbernents should mark
the nuniber 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 ra*es.
All communications intended to promote the
private ends or interests of Corporations, So
cieties, or individuals. Will be charged as ad
vertisements.
Jon Work, such as Pamphlets, Circulars,
Cards. Blanks, Handbills, etc., will be execu
ted in good style and at reasonable lates.
All letters addressed to the Proprietor will
be promptly attended to.
— 1 --tur; ; r-jg
Church Directory.
METHODIST CHURCH— R B. Lester,
Preaching at 11, A. M. &. 7 1-2, P. M. Sab
bath School, 3, P. M
BAPTIST CHURCH —F. M Danikl, Pas
te-. •*
Preaching at 11, A M. A. 7 12, P. M. Sab
bath School 9 1-2, A M.
PREsBFTEitIAN CHURCH—J. S. Coz
nr, Pastor.
Preaching at 11, A. M. &. 7 1-2, P. M. Sab
bath school. 9 12, A. M.
Dead Love.
We arc face to face, and between us here
Is the love we thought could never die ;
Why has it only lived a year ?
Who has murdered, it—you or I ?
No matter who—the deed was done
By one or both, and there it lies ;
The smile from the lip forever gone,
And darkness over the beautilul eyes.
Our love is dead, and otlr hope is'wrecked ;
So What docs jt profit to talk and rave,
Whether it perished by my neglect,
Or whether your cruelty dug its gravo ?
Why should you say that I atn to blame,
Or why should I charge the sin on you ?
Our work is before us all the same,
Aud the guilt of it lies between us two.
We have praised our 'ove lor its beauty and
grace ;
Now we stand here and hardly dure
To turn the f ce-cloih hack from the face,
And see the thing that is hidden there.
Yet look ! alt, that heart has beat its last,
And the beautiful life of our life is o’er.
And when we have buried and left the past,
We, two, together, can walk no more.
You might stretch yourself on-the dead, and
weep,
And pray as the prophet prayed in paiu ;
But. not like him could you break the sleep,
And bring the soul to the .clay again.
Its head irt my bosom I can lay,
And shower my woe there, kiss on kiss,
But there never was resurrection day
In the world for a love so dead as this !
And, since we cannot lessen the sin
By mourning over the deed we did,
Let us draw the winding sheet up to the
chin.
Ay, up till the death-blind eyes are hid !
The Desolation of France.
Que of the leading industries of
France is her wine
Some idea may be formed of her
war injuries, by a statement of the
damage to this production.
She has 600,000 acres given to
grape culture, whoso production is
160,000,000 gallons of wine, worth
§80,000,000. The greater portion of
this was lost to France last year,
and there is little prospect of any
thing better for 1871.
The hop gardens lie in the inva
ded district. The district of Stras
bourg alone furnished 500,000 gal
lons of beer.
In the invaded departments, the
total revenue from agriculture has.
been $350,000,000. Os this, for the
last year, the farmers have been de
prived.
The live stock in twenty depart
ments amounted to a million of
horses, a hundred thousand mules,
three and a half million of other
cattle, six million and a half of
sheep, a million of hogs, all worth
over two hundred millions of dol
lars. ‘ Os this, at least one half is
estimated to have been destroyed.
These items will give some idea
of the terrible damage done to
France by the late war.
Cranberries.—The acid of the
cranberry is so decidedly beneficial
in all bilious affections, by its stim
ulating effects upon the liver, that
attention to its culture should be en
couraged. One acre of land, suita
bly prepared, will yield two hun
dred and fifty dollars worth of cran
berries. The cranberry is a beauti
ful evergreen and grows thriftily.
It can be kept ail winter, and may
be so trained to grow from flower
pots as to be bcatifully ornamental
to the parlor and dining room
through all seasons of the year.—
They will grow in any ordiuary
room, without special attention ;
and the berry will remain on the
stem until the flowering for another
crop. It flourishes further North
than any other berry, ripening on
Bushman Island, on the western
slope of Greenland, in latitude sev
enty-six-
—At no moment of difficulty
does a husband, knowing his own
utter helplessness,draw so closely to
his wife’s side for comfort and as
sistance as when he wants a button
sewed on his shirt collar.
Aii Evening with a Catamount.
BY C. A. STEPHENS.
In the spring of ’64 I was one of
those living skeletons, rescued from
the den of famine and death' at
Salisbury All through the long
summer I had lain amid the odors
of a hospital; and it was August
before I was able to return to my
home at Bangor, maine. It had
been a “touch and a go” with me,
and the weakness of a constitution
sapped to its very roots still held me
down. *
“Keep in the fresh pure air, my
boy; and exercise what you feel
to,” was the advice of our old
physician. “You’ll come up little
by little.”
But it was slow work. Septem
ber, with its myriad colors, came,
to find me restless and impatient,
but far from strong.
“Can’t you plan to take a trip up
to the Lakes, and around Katah
din said the doctor one day, as I
was complaining, and berating him
for not giving me something to set
me on my legs. “Nothing better
than that. The grand scenery
there will occupy and interest your
mind, which is as much at fault as
your body just now.”
.1 bailed the proposition. It had
been one of the pet dreams of my
boyhood. Old John Clives the
trapper, whose stories used to be
the delight of my early years, was
just setting olf on his fall tour up
the west branch of the Penobscot;
and I gladly put myself under the
old man’s care.
Forty years’ experience in that
singular region had made him fa
miliar With both its physical feat
ures and the many carious legends
which the Indians tell of Pomoola,
the strange being or demon who
used to inhabit Katuhdin and the
surrounding wilderness. The old
fellow was never tired of repeating
these ; they were a part of his life,
and served to beguile the long canoe
journey up the Penobscot, and past
lake after lake, linked together by
it, where the Aboljacknegesio and
the Aboljacarmeguscook pour their
clear cold waters into the west
branch, within a few rods of each
other. Here we left our canoe, and
struck oft in a north easterly direc
tion, tor a chain of ponds, known
as the Katuhdin ponds. Here
Clives was intending to put down
his traps. Near the shore of one
of the largest of these we stumbled
upon an old log which we took pos
session of and established ourselves
for a stay of some weeks.
It was our fifth day there, if I re
member correctly ; Clives had got
his cordon of traps set, and had
gone that afternoon on his first
round to visit them, telling me I
need not expect him till late. I
bad been fishing along the shore of
the pond for nearly a mile from our
camp, when turning into a little
nook in the shore, overhung by al
ders, under which a small brook
came in, I espied a raccoon digging
in the mud.
The recognition was mutual. —
He eyed me a moment, with his
cunning visage turned askew, then
scuttled away among the bushes.
Hoping to make him take up a tree,
I dropped my pole and gave chase.
But there were no trees to his lik
ing very near, and I was about giv
ing up the race, When Mr. Gray
coat stopped at the foot of a large
yellow birch, and looking round at
me as if he thought it a more than
usually good joke suddenly disap
peared.
Coming up, I found there was a
large opening in the trunk near the
ground, and looking in saw that
the tree was entirely hollow—a mere
shell some three or four feet in di
ameter, lighted by several other
holes and clefts up and down the
trunk. I could see the coon up
some fifteen or twenty feet, cling
ing on to the side and' peering cu
riously down to see what I was
about.
If I had brought my gun I could
easily have taken him off his perch.;
but tiiat was at the camp a mile
away. A long pole was the next
thing that suggested itself—my
fishing-pole; but that was too far
off. Just then, however, I saw a
long dry one, lying on the ground
at some distance, and ran to get it.
I had stooped to pick it up, when
all at once there came a cry —a
scream, so shrill and piercing that
I involuntarily cried out myself.—
It seemed to come from over my
head; and glancing up to the tree
tops, I saw a large gray creature,
crouched upon the limb of a maple
iu the attitude of springing. To
turu and run was my first and very
natural impulse. Iu an instant there
was another shriek, followed by a
heavy spring among the leaves
•which shook the ground behind me.
Back towards the hollow tree I
sped Why, I hardly knew'. But
' the cavity at the root gave me the
idea as I approached, and diving
into it I scrambled up on the m
side like a chimney.sweop. It was
my turn to climb now, and I went
up with as much alacrity as the
coon had done. He, meanwhile
went up higher, throwing down a
shower of punk and dirt into my
eyes, which were, I presume, open
to their fullest extent.
I was scarcely in ere the creature
was at the hole, making a strange
purring noise. He might almost
have reached my feet without
climbing at first. Perhaps the
quantity of rotton wood which was
falling blinded him. The coon and
I were both doing our best in that
respect. And if the shower in his
eyes bore any proportion to that in
mine I don’t wonder he hesitated.—
But be that as it may, I had great
reason to be thankful for the delay.
For while he was snuffing and purr
ing at the root, I managed to wrig
gle up some twenty or thirty feet,
to where a large limb had grown
out. The root of the limb had not
rotted away with the rest of the
wood, but extended out into the in
side of the cavity, affording me a
sort of seat. Here, with a long
silver, or shim, iu my hand, such
as are often seen along the inside of
decaying trees, I sat prepared to
act upon the defensive.
I did not have long to wait. —
For the cloud of dust subsiding a
little, the creature perceived me,
and uttering another Scream, began
climbing up after us The sliver
which I held was six or seven feet
long and sound, though covered
with rot and dirt. I got out my
pocket kuife, and quickly sharpen
ed the hard wood down to an acute
point. It thus became quite an es
tective weapon. Aud as soon as
the catamount—for such I judge
it to have been —came within reach,
I gave him a “jab” in the face with
ray spear—then another, and anoth
er, dealt dowu upon him with all
my strength. His claws wore oc
cupied iu holding on. Anew show
er of dirt rattled down into his eyes.
1 redoubled my thrusts. It grew
t o hot for him, and I had the in
expressible pleasure of seeing him
slide down to the bottom, growling
and snarling with rage. But in a
moment he was up on the outside.
I heard his claws in the bark ; and
could see him as he passed the rifts
and holes in the old.trunk. But the
aperture at the top was too small
t 6 admit anything but his head or
one paw at a time.
Seeing the coon he commenced a
series ot cries and screeches, and
thrusting in first one paw and then
the other, tried to reach him. Bad
as was my own situation, I could
not help thinking that I was much
better oil than the coon, lie was
between two implacable fo?s. But
he bore it very philosophically.—-.
W lien the catamount’s claws came
too near he would shrink down a
little towards me, keeping an eye to
both of us, with a coolness that
struck me as rather admirable un
der the circumstances. I don’t
know what he thought of his chance.
He didn’t let it rob him of his self
possession ; and his queer quizzical
face was as much of a joke as ever.
Finding that he couldn’t get in
at the top, the panther began to
descend, and coining down to the
hole, just above my head, looked
in. Quick as a flash his long paw
popped in and clutched up my cap
with I don’t know how much hair.
I had to crouch close to keep my
head from following it.
Such claws ! they must have been
five or six inches in length, and
shot out of his toes with the rapid
ity of thought. Once within their
grip, all escape would be impossible.
Withdrawing ids foot, he would
eye me a moment, then thrust it in
again and strain to reach me, with
a display of muscular activity truly
wonderful. But getting out my
knife, I gave him such sharp pricks
that, he soon got sick of that sort
of exercise; and after glaring at
me for a long while, went down to
try at the bottom again.
Whenever his head appeared
within the opening I let the punk
and shims go at him, in such quan
tities that he soon had to dig them
out to get a look at all.
Lying stretched out on the
ground, he would fix his eyes first
on one, then on another of the holes
along the trunk, and at the least
movement spring up, fixing his
claws into the bark, and in a mo
ment be at the top, looking down
at the coon, till, finding us all stiH
beyond his reach, he would go back
to watch again.
I could see him quite distinctly
from my loophole. A long, lithe
body—six feet, I thought, with the
large eat head, strong legs and
broad, feet, from which his claws
were uneasily protruding and reced
ing, and a long tail switch ng to and
fro with restless impatience—the
very embodiment of strength and
ferocity.
How to escape was the next
question, after the momentary peril
had ceased. Would the catamount
go away of his own accord? He
didu't act like it. His movements
seemed to indicate that he meant
to try- a siege.
Night had come on—but the moon
was rising over the tree tops. I re
member thinking whether this
were not nearly as bad as Salisbury,
but believe, I decided that it wasn’t
thus far. I looked up to the rac
coon, he was reconnoitering through
a crevice.
Suddenly the idea struck me that,
if I could force the coon out the
panther might seize him, and per
haps be satisfied with one of us.—
But I confess that it was not with
out some self reproach that I began
to put this plan in execution. We
were companions in danger, and to
drive him out to certain death was
truly the very climax of selfishness.
But the instinct of self-preservation
is not to t>e subjected to moral tests.
Again sharpening my stick, I
stood up on my seat, and drove the
coon up before me. He offered no
resistance, though manifesting the
greatest reluctance to go cut at the
top. But I forced him out. The
moment he appeared in si,ht the
catamount leaped up after him.
Poor fellow ! he made one frantic
attempt to get back into the tree,
then turned to battle with the as-
cending monster. One sharp cry of
fear rnd agony, and his life-blood
was feeding our savage besieger.
After sucking at his throat for a
few moments, the cougar sprung
down and ran off into the forest,
with the coon in his month. I saw
him disappear among the shadows,
and heard his footsteps die away in
the distance.
It was an opportunity not to be
neglected. I was not long in get
ting down. Crawling out of the
tree, I made a bee line for the camp,
in nearly an opposite direction, at
about my best paces. It was ten
o’clock when 1 got in. I found
Clives wondering at my absence,
and considerably alarmed. I told
him of my adventure; and the next
morning we moved our camp down
to the Millinoeket Lake. We
didn’t like the neighborhood. A
catamouut is not, in my very hum
ble opinion, an agreeable companion
to spend an evening with.
A Horrible Tragedy.
Rumor brings us details of a hor
rible tragedy that is said to have
occurred in St Clair county, Ala
bama. The rumor runs that the
Tax Collector of St. Clair had got
together a large amount of taxes
and gave thetu to his wife to keep;
remarking as he did so, that he
was compelled to take a trip that
would necessitate his absence from
home for three or four days. He
left and she hid the money. About
ten o’clock that night a party of
men, wearing disguises, broke in
upon the lonely woman and de
manded the tax money. She re
fused to give it up or tell where it
was. After attempting in vain to
force her to tell the hidingplace of
the treasure they searched for it
and found it. After possessing
themselves firmly of the money,
they ordered her to get them some
supper. While she was buysing
herself with this forced task she
ooncieved the idea of poisoning them,
and thus preserving at once the
money and her husband’s honor.—
She deftly slipped some arsenic iu
the coffee she was mixing. They
drank heartily, and fell dead short
ly afterwards. She stripped their
disguises off and found that two of
the villains were strangers, but the
third was her husband, who had
taken this means of stealing the
taxes of the people. The story is
almost too horrible for credence,
but our informants were confident
that the facts were as they stated
them. We earnestly hope that to
night’s train may bring contradic
tion of the foul rumor. —Rome
Commercial.
Satueoay Night. —How many
a kiss has been given—how many a
curse—how many a caress—how
many T a look of hate —liow many a
kind word—how many a promise
has been broken —how many a soul
lost —how many a loved one lower
ed into the narrow chamber—how
many a babe has gone from earth
to heaven—how many a little crib
or cradle stands silent now, which
last Saturday night held the rarest
treasure of the heart.
A week is a life. A week is a
history. A week marks events of
sorrow and gladness, which people
never heard. Go home to your
families, man in business ! Go
home to your hearth, erring wan
derer ! Go home to the chair that
awaits you, wronged waif on life’s
breakers ! Go home to those you
love, men of toil, and give one
night to the joys and comforts fast
flying by !
Leave your book with complex
figures, your dingy office, your busy
shop! Rest with those you love,
for heaven only knows what the
next Saturday night v*ill bring you !
Forget the world of care and the
battles of life which have furrowed
the week ! Draw close around the
family hearth. Saturday night has
awaited your coming in sadness, in
tears, and in silence. Go home to
those you love, and as you bask in
the loved presence, and meet to re
turn the loved embrace of your
heart’s pets, strive to be a better man
and bless heaven for giving his wea
ry children so dear a stepping stone
in the river to eternal, as Saturday
night.
Courting in Church. —A young
gentleman happened to sit at church
in a pew adjoining one in which
was a young lady, for whom he con
ceived a -sudden and violent pas
sion, felt desirous of entering into a
courtship on the spot, but the place
not suiting a format declaration,
the exigency suggested, the follow
ing plan : He politely handed his
neig ‘bor a bible, open, with a pin
stuck in the following verse : Sec
ond Epistle of John, verse 7th
“ And now I beseech lady, not as
though I wrote anew command
ment unto you, but that which we
had from the beginning, that we
love one another.” She returned it
with the following : Second chap
ter of Ruth, loth verse—“ Then she
fell on her face, and bowed herself
to the ground, and said unto linn,
why have I grace in thine eyes, that
thou shouldst take notice of me ;
seeing that lam a stranger?” He
returned the book, pointing to the
twelfth verse of the Third Epistle of
John—“ Having many things to
write with paper and ink, but I
trust to come unto you and speak
face to face.” Prom the above in
tervievv the marriage took place the
following week.
Labor Lost. —An organ-grinder
playing at the door of a deaf and
dumb asylum.
Become Mechanics.
The New York correspondent of
the Rochester Democrat groups
these facts about wealthy mechan
ics in this city :
The late George M. Tunison, a
builder of some note, left a fortune
of $200,000 for his heirs to quarrel
over, which duty they fulfilled to
the best of their power. Richard
b. Carman, once the prominent lan
ded .proprietor at Washington
Heights, commenced life as a house
carpenter, and even within my own
day bis sign was to be .seen at his
shop in New street, “Richard F.
Carman, Builder.” It, was at this
trade that ho made a large part of
his enormous estates, which amoun
ted to a million. William Bruce,
the late distinguished type founder,
also made a large fortune. He was
an enterprising man, and was dis
posed to assist young printers by
selling them materials on credit.
Richard Iloe was another suc
cessful mechanic, and the saw and
printing press establishment which
ho founded is now worth a million.
\\ illiam Bogardus, a boss painter
in Cedar street, although not,
strictly speaking, a money making
man, has made not far from SIOO,-
000 in the course of his business
career. Luke Terboss, another
boss painter hi the same neighbor
hood, made a fortune, which he left
to his boys, who soon scattered it
by the usual dissipation, of city
life. Geo. Law himself laid the
foundation of his great wealth while
working at the trade of a stone ma
son, and is probably the most suc
cessful man which-the trade has ev
er produced.
The printers come in for a share
of fortune’s favors. Greeley, as ev
ery one knows, served as “jour”
for two years in this city, and was
glad to get a job on a Greek testa
ment, which tried his defective e) T es
as well as his more enduring pa
tience. I have .sometimes thought
that his subsequent turn for theolo
gy may be due to this practicrl in-.
Auction into holy writ. But Gree
ley’s case is outdone by Bonner,
who has five times as much wealth,
and the latter set type for the Hart
ford Courant not over twenty years
ago, and afterwards read proof for
the Mirror in this city. Afvord, the
master printer in Vandewater
street is rich enough to spend half
his time at his residence near Hart
ford, where he has a small but val
uable farm. John F. Trow, anoth
er master printer, located up in
Greene street, has also become rich,
and so has Sam Green, of Frank
fort street; Samis tne son of the
worthy Beriah Green, of Whites
boro, who was for thirty years one
of the foremost Abolitionists (in
the pulpit at least.) in Central New
York.
Gambling. — No passion can lead
to such extremities, nor involve a
man in such a complicated train of
crimes and vices, aud ruin whole
families so completely, as tho bane
ful rage for gambling. It produ
ces and nourishes all imaginable dis
graceful sensations; it is the most
fertile nursery of covetousness, en
vy, rage, malice, dissimulation,
falsehood, and foolish reliance on
blind fortune, it frequently leads
to fraud, quarrels, murder, forgery,
meanness, and despair: and robs
us in the most unpardonable man
ner of the greatest and most irre
coverable treasure —Time Those
that are rich act foolishly in ven
turing their money in uncertain
speculations; and those that have
not much to risk, must play with
timidity, and can not long contin
ue to play unless the fortune of the
game turns, as being obliged to
quit the field at the first heavy
blow; or if they stake everything,
to force the blind goddess to smile
upon them at last, madly hazard
their being reduced to instant beg
gary. The gambler but rarely dies
a rich man ; those that had the.good
fortune to realize some property in
this miserable way, and continue
playing, are guilty of a twofold fol
ly. Trust no person of that des
cription, of whatever rank or char
acter he may be.
Where Hell Is. —“I wish to
ask yon a question,” said Mr.Sharp
to our young minister as he met
him iu the street. “I am anxious
to know where hell is. Besides the
Bible, I have read the geographeis,
histories, and other books, and I
can’t find out where it is exactly,”
The young minister, placing his
hand on liis shoulder, and looking
earnestly into his eyes, replied en
couragingly : “My dear sir, don’t be
discouraged. I am sure you will
find out after a while. As for my
self, I have made inquiries, and re
ally don’t wish to know “where hell
is.” About heaven I have thought-,
and read, and studied, a great deal.
Lwish to make that my home, and
by the help of the Lord I will.—
Ask me about heaven and I ’ can
talk. I dont know r , where hell is
and you had better not find out.”
A reverend gentleman was ad
dressing a School concert recently,
and was trying to enforce the doc
trine that thy hearts of the little
ones were.sinful, and needed • regu
bating. Taking out his watch and
holding it up, he Said : “Now, here
is my watch; suppose it don’t keep
good time; now goes too fast, and
now too slow ; what shall Ido with
it?” “Sell it!” shouted a flaxen
headed youngster.
The Georgia Medical Associa
tion holds its next annual meeting
in Americus on the 12th of next
month.
NO. 15
How ShaH we Meet?
BT E. K. BROWN'.
How shall we meet in our future home ?
As we parted here on earth ?
Will the spirit carry its lores and hates
Into the hcaveuly birth ?
Will the heart be moved, in that world of
bliss,
By the feelings that stirred its depths in this ?
When \vc meet with the lost ones, face to
face,
In the light of that better shove.
Will the cankering cares of this ehangeful
life.
And its harassing doubts be o'er ?
Then, Father above ! speed ou the dny
When the mists of earth shall be cleared
away!'
Year after year our round we tread.
In a spirit of' sad unrest,
Striving to hold, with clinging clasp,
The phantom joy to our breast;
Heaping dust o’er hopes that have died,
And smiling above Ibe graves wc hide.
Father divine ! O, teach us how
To patiently \rait thy will ;
To bear the burdens upon us laid,
And trust in thy goodness still ;
Till death shall the pearly gates undo,
And swing them aside to let us through.
—“Will you have me, Sarah?”
said a young man, to a modest girl.
“No, John,” said she, “but you can
have me if you will.”
“M r. Brown, I owe you a grudge ;
remember that.” “I* shall not” be
frightened, then ; for I never knew
you to pay anything that you
owe I.”
A charitable Cincinnati man
keeps a pair of dogs chained at his
front door, so that poor people who
stop to “get a bite” can be accom
modated without taking the trouble
to go in the house.
A person at Pike’s Peak, writ
ing to a Minnesota journal, says the
miners are very much discouraged
in that region ; they have to dig
through a solid vein of silver four
feet thick before they reach the
gold.
“Wife, do you know that I
have got the pneumonia?” “New
tnonia, indeed ! Such extravagance!
You’re the spend thriftest man I ev
er did see, to go and lay out your
money for such trash when I do
need anew bonnet so much !”
A Virginia paper cites as a re
markable instance of the efficacy of
abstaining from medicine, a lady in
that State who has reached the age
of ninety-six, and throughout all the
long years of her life has taken but
three pills and has buried three hus
bands.
Pulverized alum and common
salt put on a piece of cotton and
placed in a hollow tooth will shut
up its aching so quick you will
want to hug us for telling you; but
you can’t unless you have a certifi
cate of good moral character.
—-A man, who is owing us a lit
tle bill, said he would call last week
and pay us, if he was alive. He
still appears in the street, but as ho
did not call, it is naturally supposed
that he is dead, and walking round
to save funeral expenses.— Ex.
—On a recent declamation day in
a New Jersey school, a promising
young idea shot off the subjoined”
“ Our yaller hen has broke her leg.
O, never more she’ll lay an egg ;
the brindle cow has gone plump
dry, and sister Sal lias eat the pie ;
this arth is full of sin and sorrow,
we’re born to day and die to-mor
row.”
A music-teacher once wrote
that the “art of playing the violin
requires the nicest perception and
the most sense of any art in the
known world.” Whereupon a Wes
tern editor comments thus: The
art of publishing a newspaper and
making it pay, and at the same
time making it please everybody,
beats fiddlin’ higher than a kite.”
An eccentric man in Massachu
setts has made and published his
will. He gives his body after his
death to Prof. Agassiz and Dr. Ol
iver Wendell Holmes, to be placed
iu the museum at Cambridge, but
directs that two drumheads shall be
made of his skin, on which “Yankee
Doodle” shall be beaten at the base
of Bunker Hill Monument, annual
ly, at sunrise on the 17th of June.
Occupation. —What a glorious
tiling it is for a human heart.—
Those who work hard seldom yield
to fancied or real sorrow. When
grief sits down, folds its hands
and mournfully teeds upon its own
tears, weaving the dim shadows
that a little exertion might sweep
away iuto a funeral pall, the spirit
is shorn of its might, and sorrow
becomes our master. When troub
les flow upon you dark and heavy,
toil not with the waves, and wres
tle not with the torrent; rather
seek by occupation to divert the
dark waters that threaten to over
whelm you, into a thousand chan
nels, which tiie duties of life always
present. Before you dream of it,
those waters will fertilize the pres
ent and give birth to fresh flowers
that will become pure and holy in
the sunshine which penetrates to
the path of duty in every obstacle.
Grief, after all, is but a selfish feel
ing, and most selfish is the man
who yields himself to the indul
gence of any passion which brings
no ;oy to his fellow men or to him
self.
