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About Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-???? | View Entire Issue (April 7, 1871)
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.
