Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-????, October 13, 1871, Image 1

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Cuthbert weekly appeal., October 13, 1871, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextVOL. V. THE APPEAL. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY, BY SAWTELL & CHRISTIAN. 'l'ermß of Subscription: Onb Year $3 00 | Srx Months $2 00 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. x&- No attention paid to orders for the pa per unless accompanied by the Cash. Hates of Advertising : One square, (ten lines or less,) $1 00 for the first and 75 cents for each subsequent inser tion. A liberal deduction made to parties #ho advertise by the year- Persons sending advertisements should mark the number of times they desire them inser ted, or they will be continued until iorbidand charged accordingly. Transient advertisements must be paid for at the time of insertion. Announcing names of candidates for office, $5.00. Cash, in all cases Obituary notices over five lines, charged at regular advertising rates. AU communications intetidrd to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, So cieties, or individuals, will be charged as ad vertisements. Job Work, such as Pamphlets, Circulars, Cards, Blanks, Handbills, etc., will be execu ted in good style and at reasonable rates. All letters addressed to the Proprietor will be promptly attended to. ANDREW Female College, ji CUTHBERT GA„ THE exercises of thin institution will be resumed on Wednesday, the 20th of Sep tember next, and close on Thursday before the Isnt Sabbath iu June. The scholastic year will be divided into Three Terms, beginning 2dik September, Ist. January and lstol April: REGULAR COURSE: I’F.RTNUM. rail ANNUM. Primary Department sl2 00 S3O 00 Preparatory “ 15 00 45 00 Collegiate “ 20 00 00,00 Diploma Fee, (paid on graduating) s.">(.'o Incidentals 100 Hoard, Washing, Fuel aud Lights, 18 00 Regular tuition of daughters livii g by the ministry—no charge. Each hoarding pupil should he turnished with a Bible, Trunk, one pair of sheets, one pair of Pillow-cases, one pair Blankets, four Laud-Towels, over-shoes aud umbrella. EXTRA COURSE : mil ANNUM, Greek ondFrench, each S4O 1)0 Tuition in Music CO 00 Use of Piano 8 00 Drawing and Psstel 30 00 Instruction in Oi' Painting, 4') 00 Calisthenics, conducted by a lady SCo Singing in Classes No charge. Extra course pursued at, the option ol Pa rents and Guardians. Payments uiuetbe made In October, January and April. Each pupil should he present a* the opening of the School. The undersigned having been elected Presi •dent of Andrew Female Colloge, an old and popular Institution, suuijs fraternal erectings to the Colleges of the South, makes his,bow to the public, and solicits sympathy aud a lib eral share of patronage. Summoned to a high and holy work—that of preparing the mittdsand hearts of the you g for the business and pleasures, joys and sor rows of life—he will call to lus assistance the beet educators of the country, aud address himself to the task with all the zeal and in dustry that he cannot command. Should time, whose verdict we woo, demonstrate that he cannot preside with dignity and success— that he is incap ibie of imparting instruction — that he ifc is not in the proper place—that A. V- C. does not return a substantial equivalent, to its patrons—the President will abandon the enterprise and refund all damages reli giously assessed. Parents and guardiaus wishing to educate girls should not forget our healthtul locality, reiiued society, commodious utid well ventila ted buildings, beautiful grounds, magnificent grove, aud reasonable tales. JOHN B McGEIIEE, President A F. C. Cutlihert, Ga., Aug. 16th, 1871, ts Ice Cream! I WOULD respect Trtlly inform my numer ous friends that I have coni pleted and opendtTmy ICE CREAM SALOON, And am prepaid! to serve them in the very best of style. I have spared no pains or t-x pease tn tittinpr np my establishment, and c .11 truthfully 6ay I have the Finest Saloon in S. W. Georgia, And am fully prepared to meet the wants of the public. Aly LADIES’ SALOON, JTns been banned and furnished wiihaspc cial desire to please. Adjoining is the GEN TLEMEN’S SALOON, which Inis been tlior ’'jaughly arid tilled up in the best of style. These .-Hioousafe so constructed as to enable me to throw them both into one, when oeeasioiiß riquiro it, and he enabled to seat from • • i ■ 75 to 100 Guests! In tjie same room. lam also fully prepared to furnish my customers Willi a superior arti cle of SODA WATER! I haye also gone to considerable expense in making improvements in this department of tny business, and am better prepared than ever before to meet the wants of the public. XOE3 2 IOE!! T. will keep Ice on h nd for sale in qnanli ies to suit the public. Give me a cull. A. W. GILLESPIE. A full assortment of Confictioueries ways on hand. aug4-ct The City Bar AND X3illiard Saloon IS now supplied with a Large and Choice Stock of Wines, Liquors and Segars, Both Foreign and Domestic, which can not be surpasses by any liar in the State. All thedelicacies of the season, in the Way of Fancy Drinks, fixed in style. LAGER BEEU only Five Cents per glass. A FIKE Assortment of Slates, Fur sale by T. S. POWELL, TiusWij, CUTHBERT ifl§f APPEAL. My Baby. I sit down at ray window Aud gaze, with tearful eye, At the groups of happy children Tnat pass my window by. The blue eyed little babies, The bright-eyed little girls, With sweet and sunny faces, With soft and silken curls. And I think I see among them One very dear to me, Who tilled my heart with happiness, My home with merry glee. I think I see her playing. In her little cloak of blue ; Now picking up round pebbles, Now stringing up her shoe. I hear her shout of gladness, When she catches sight o( me— As she rolls her little wagon, Behind the old oak tree. I feel her little soft hands, Clasped tightly within mine— The little fingers, clinging, Like the tendrils of a vine. I feel her little red lips, Pressed warmly on my own ; And then the te .rs fall faster, For I know 1 am alone. Then I rouse me from my sorrow, And I strive to lock above, To the pure aud heavenly regions, Where soars my little dove. And 1 think that she is smiling, On the gentle Shepherd’s breast ; Where grief can never touch her, Nor sin nor care molest. ’Tis thus I see the darling, Who once to me was given— A little lamb in Christ’s own fold— My baby is in Ilcaven. So I dry my heavy eyelids, And still my throbbing heart, For I know I’ll meet my baby Where we never more shall part. The Fallen Youth. I went, a few days ago, into a jail to see a young man who was ojico a Sabbath School scholar. The keeper took a large bunch of keys, and led us through the long, gloomy halls where sat the young than we had come to see. The walls of the room were of course stone, the floor of thick plaak, aud before the windows were 6trong iron bars. Without, all was beautiful; the green fields, the sweet flowers and the singing birds were as lovely as ever, but this young man could en joy none of these—no, never again could ho go out, for ho was con demned to death. Yes, he had killed a man, and now ho himself must die. Think of it; only twen ty years old—and a murderer. I sat down beside him, and talk ed with him. “Oh,” said lie, as the tears, rolled down his eheeks, “I did not mean to do it, but I was drunk ; then I got angry, and be fore I knew what I was about, I killed him. Ob if I had minded my mother, I should never have come to this—l should never have been here.” It would have made your heart ache, as it did mine, to see and talk with him. Once he was a happy, playful child like you, now he is a poor condemned, wicked young man. lie did not mind his mother, did not govern his own temper, and as he grew older lie Went with bad boys who taught hixn bad habits; and he became worse and worse, until, as lie said, when drunk, in a moment of passion, he killed a man, and notv, after a few weeks, he must suffer, the dreadful penally.— As I left him, he said, “Will you pray for me?” and he added, “Oh tell the boys everywhere to mind their mothers and keep away from bad company. —American Messen ger. To a Young Lady. You think you love the man who is coming this Sunday night to vis it you. And he acts as if he loves„ yon ! suppose he “ declares him self,” and asks you to become his wife. Are you prepared to say to him, “I love you and will trust you through life with my hap piness, and the lives and weal of our children ?” lie is jolly, gay and handsome, and all the darts of Cupid Are twinkling and sparkling in his ejes ;and will those eyes always find expression from the love of a true soul ? To-riight he says many pleasant things, and draws many pretty pic tures for the future. Does he go to-morrow to work which gives promise of the fulfill ment of your desires in life ? Does his ambitions and achieve ments satisfy you? Does his every day life shine with the noble endeavors of a trustworthy man ? If you think and desire a compan ion in your thinking—one who can unlock the deepest depths of your mind, to what strata of humanity does he belong in the scale of ex cellence and morality ? Is he doing all he can to build up future useful ness and happiness in which you can share and feel blessed ? These are questions which the experience of after years makes women weep in the bitterness of soul that they were not thought of before they answer ed “ Yes.” A Ilartfordcr advised a slender friend to chalk his head and go to a masquerade as a billiard cue. CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1871. The Grandfather’s Will. “Little Blossom, you make it so hard for me to say good-by to you.” “When ?” The innocent, surprised, inquir ing face—renunciation was, indeed, difficult for John Burrows. He touched a dimple in her cheek, and then a curl of her hair, as he might have touched flowers on a grave, perhaps She shook back the silky ripples impatiently. “When, John ?” He looked at her for a moment without a smile, pretty as she was. “Nelly, isit down here a moment.” They sat down on the pretty crimson couch before the fire.— Seeing trouble in his face, she put her hand in his, and he smoothed out the little rose-leaf member up on his broad palm, more than ever confident, as he looked at it, that he was right. “Nelly, you know I love you.” “Yes,” with a blush, for he had never said it before. “And I am very sorry.” “Why?” after a pause of bewil derment. “Because you are a delicate little flower, needing care and nursing to keep your bloom bright; and lam going to a hard, rough life, among privations, fever and malaria, which will try even my powerful eonstitu tion, and where yoji must not go.” “You are going to the Far West?” “Yes. My mother must have a home in her old age. She is strong now, but time is telling on her.— You know all that she has been to me ?” “Yes ; she has been a good moth er. But you shall take me too, John.” She won her way into his arms against his will. “You will take, me too ?” “No. Did I not tell you that you made it so hard for me to say good-bye to you.” “John, what could I do without you ?” lie took the little, caressing hand down from his face. . “Don’t make me so weak, Nelly. Do you think that it is nothing to me to leave my little violet—the only woman I ever loved—for a hard, cold life, and unceasing toil? I cannot marry lor ten years, Nelly.” “And then I shall be thirty years old.” “Yes, married and with little children ; seeing at least that your old lover, John Burrows, wasyight.” He rose to his feet. “John!” in terror. “Yes, lam going, Nelly. Little one—you look so much a woman now, with your steadfast eyes — hear me; 1 did not foresee that you would love me—that I should love you.. You wore a little school girl when 1 saved you from drown ing last summer, and your satchel of books floated away down the riv er and was lost. I came here to see Gregory, not yon. 1 could not help loving you ; but did not think until to-night that you cared so much for me, Nelly. But, child, you will surely forget me in time.” “Never!” lie went on : “Nelly, I shall hun ger for you day and night, more and more, as the time goes on, and I get older, lonelier, more weary.— But I shall never hope to see you again. Now, give me your hand.” She gave him both. He raised them to his lips, but before she could speak again, he was gone. Shivering violently, she went to the fi 'O, and stood there, trying to warm herself. She understood it all now—his strangely elaborate ar rangements for a trip to New York, lie had known that he was not coming back when she had begged him to bring her his photograph from the great metropolis, but was going on—on —into the dim dis tance. That was why he had not promised. It was getting late —she was so cold-she had better goto bed.— She would not go into the parlor to bid her father, and aunt Gregory, good-night; so she crept silently up to her own room. There the very weight of grief upon her lull ed Her to sleep. But when she woke, her grief sprang upon her like some hidden monster who had lain in wait for he all night. Her misery terrified her. Why should she not die? Why should she ever rise from that bed ?. But when they called her, she sprang up hastily, dressed and went down, and they were too busy talk ing to notice that she did not know what she was doing. But by-and by, when her brother reached for more coffee, and observed, “John Burrows and his mother went to New York iu the first train this morning,” she tried to rise nncon cernedly from the table, and fell in a dead faint upon the carpet among them. When Nelly came to, she was undressed and in bed, and Aunt Mary was darnir g stockings at the foot. “Oh, let me get up, Aunt Mary ; I don’t want to lie here. “Now, Nelly, be reasonable. — You’re ill!” “Oh, Aunt Mary, I’m not. “Nelly, if you will lie still to-day, I’ll let you have that old box of cu riosities in my room to look over. Will you ?” “I don’t know.” Aunt Mary went for them. Nel ly shut her eyes, and let the wave in all its bittterness surge over her once ; then Miss Golding came back, bringing a box of old mahogany, black and glossy with time. “There!”—sitting it on the bed. With a wintry little smile of thanks, Nelly lifted the cover. The old mahogany box contained strange things. Pictures on wood and ivo ry, illuminated manuscripts webs of strange lace, antique ornaments, an cient embroideries, great packages of old letters, sealed flasks of unfa miliar perfume, ancient brooches of red gold, finger-rings of clumsily set gems tied together with faded ribbons, and knot of a hair fastened with a gold heart, the silver hilt of a sword, and, lastly, a tiny octagon portrait of an old mau done in chalks upon a kind of vellum, and inclosed iu a frame of tarnished brass. “Who is this that is so ungly, Aunt Mary ?” “That, they say, is my great great-grandfather, Nelly.” “What is it painied on—this queer stuff?” “Well, it’s a kind of leather, I believe. They used to write on in very ancient times.” “He’s uncommonly ugly, isn’t he?” said Nelly, wearily. As she spoke, the little case fell apart in her hands. A yellow, fold ed paper was revealed. She opened it, and saw that it was written up on. “Why, bless my soul, what have you there ?” exclaimed Miss Gold ing, rising up in a strange alarm. She snatched it from Nelly’s hand. “It can’t be the will !” she cried. Nelly looked on in dumb surprise. Aunt Mary read a few words, then rushed away m wild agitation to the library where her brother was sitting. Nelly could hear them talking, the two ; then her brother came; then the old housekeeper was called from the dining-room, and so much confused conversation she never heard before. By-and by they all waited upon her in a body. “Nelly,” said her father, sitting down on the foot of the bed, “You are an heiress.” “ This is Grandfather Golding’s will,” exclaimed Aunt Mary, flour ishing the bit of paper. “ It seems that he was very ec centric,” Gregory condescended to explain. “He was very rich, and had some hard sons, and some grandsons who promised to be harder, and he fell out with the whole set, who were waiting fur him to die. He declared that no money of his should encourage the young people’s excesses; a little poverty would help the family, and the fourth generation would appre ciate his money, and probably make good use of it. When he died, no will could be found ; and though there was a famous struggle for the property, it went into the hands of trustees through the oath of the lawyer who had drawn up the will; and there it has been descending from one person to another, and ac cumulating iu value, until you and I, Nelly, are as rich as Croesus.” “ How, Gregory ? ” “xkin’t we the iourth generation ? Father was an only child; we are his only children ; all the back folks are dead, and it slides down to us on greased wires. Hurrah for Grand father Golding ! ” “ Is this true, father? ” “ Yes, my dear. The property is chiefly in Leeds, England. The housekeeper who came over last summer, you know, happens to know about it. It’s in safe hands, and our claim is indisputable.” What did Nelly do? The little goose! Instead of flying off’ in thoughts of a carriage, and dresses of cloth of gold, and a trip to Eu rope, she buried her face in the pil lows, and murmured under her breath, “ Oh! John. Oh, dear, dear John ! ” And it was no castle in the air. Three months proved that she was the mistress of gold untold, almost. And then a little note went to Kan sas saying: “ Dear John : I am waiting for you with a fortuue. Will you come for me now ? Nelly.” And he came instantly; and though some might have sneered at his readiness, the heart of his little wife was always at peace. She knew that John Burrows loved her truly. Grandfather Golding’s mon ey built up a commodious Western town —paved streets, raised rows of shops, erected dwelling houses, founded banks, libraries and church es; and Nelly finally lived out West. But she had opportunities of seeing pioneer life; and she said, “John was right; I should have died in a year, had I lived here in poverty.” One of the most interesting ques tions now discussed by astronomers is that which concerns the possibil ity of the existence of a central sun. The vast extent of the range of in fluence exercised by the law of gravitation has suggested the groat probability that in the assemblage of stars with which our system is connected, there is a centre of grav ity around which they revolve. As in the solar system such a principle is found to exist, the inquiry natu rally propounds itself, why it should not also exist over the broadest limit of the universe, and w T hy, too, there should not be some point or centre around which every cluster and nebula may revolve. Georgia Factories. —Columbus has $1,407,800 invested in manu factures, and is the only city in the United States where cotton blank are made. Augusta has $225,250 ; Atlanta 5i47,500; Macon $72,000. A Good Story- Some of the guests have a pri vate little club-room of their own at the best hotels here, which, though not gorgeously fitted up, nor much more convenient than John Chamberlain’s cottage, is ex ceedingly well patronized by some of the jolly old magnates who make this magnificent hotel their summer rendezvous. This room lies right off the hall, in the main corridor, next to the grand staircase. Here at almost any time you can find a congenial party at draw poker or whist, with as much money staked as you may find frequently at “the cottage.” Four of these solid old dignitaries, however, who used to pay, have eeased since a little inci dent occurred which I now pro pose to relate. I heard it legiti mately. Mrs. Mackintosh—l will call her Mackintosh for short, though that is not her name—one of the ladies who figure in the story, thought it too good to keep, and told her sister-in-law, Jonny Mack intosh, who told her beau, and he told me. It was Sunday or Monday, or it may have been Tuesday night—l cannot say for certain which—when Mrs. Mack, at about one o’clock, missed Mack fiom her side and cau tiously descended to the dimly-light ed clerk’s desk to know where he could be. No one knew there, and she proceeded through the corridor; butjustasshe came opposite No. —shall I say 22 ? —she heard Mack’s voice inside: “I go twenty better!” Mrs. Mack’s heart stood still.— She knew enough to understand the meaning of those mystic words. At first she was confused and knew not what to do. Then indignation seized hei, and she was about to break down the door and collar Mack, when she heard another voice, that was also familiar, reply : “Ah! twenty better? Well, I see that and go ten more.” The last familiar voice was Judge —well, say Judge Slocum. Judge Slocum was the husband of her dearest and most intimate friend ; aud, in the kindness of her heart, being a woman, Mrs. Mack deter mined to have Mrs. Slocum on the spot to share her misery. Mrs. Slo cum’s room was not far away, aud there Mrs. Mack hied. “My dear,” said she, “is Judge Slocum in?” No. I am so glad of it. I cannot sleep, and want you to keep me company. Now, it was near one o’clock, and yet, strange to say, Mrs, Slo cum was not asleep. She told Mrs. Mack that she was sitting up for the Judge, who was compelled to consult with a New York counsellor at the Continental that night. On ly a woman could have carried this diabolical plot to completion, and Mrs. Mack was that woman. “Well, dear, throw your cape over you, and let’s go down in the corridor. My husband is away to night, and I feel feverish, and must walk.” So down they went into the cor ridor, and Mrs. S'ocum’s ears were astonished by hearing the Judge re mark to some heathen Chinee oppo site “I call you !” “Why, that’s the Judge’s voice,” said Mrs. Slocum; but before she could act upon the new light let in upon her, another voice—not Mack’s this time, but Colonel, well, I’ll call him Benson’s—another voice re plied, “Three queens 1” “D —n your queens ! My two pair ain’t worth shucks !” “Why, they are gambling!” said Mrs. Slocum, in a stage whisper ! “My husband, too; and wasn’t that Colen Benson’s voice. Mrs Mack assented readily. It was Colonel Benson’s voice. “Then I’ll go call Mrs. Benson. Women —wives, too —are not to be treated this way any longer;” and, before the ready Mrs. Mack could prevent her, Mrs. Slocum was up the stairs like a shot. One of the gentlemanly clerks saw this proceeding, and thought it due to the religious peace and harmony of the household to iter fere. He came up to Mrs. Mack and said . very affably : “Ain’t you afraid you will, catch Gold, Mrs. Mack ? You had better go to your room.” Mrs. Mack put ber foot down at once. “Not till I see this out, Mr. Clerk,’' said she, “and you’d better not interfere.” The clerk withdrew, fearing even to simulate a warning cough. Soon Mrs. Slocum came back with Mrs. Benson, who was all in a tremor. “Why, what’s the matter, Mrs. Mack ? Here comes Mrs. Slocum in my room like a Lady Macbeth in real life, and drags mq out without a word of explanation and brings me here!” “Oh, wait!” said Mrs. Slocum, “and you’ll ask no explanation.—* These men ! these men !” Just then anew voice inside said: “Give me three cards.” “Oh, heavens 1” said Mrs. Slo cum, “that Dr. Thompson’s voice! Are all the women’s husbands play ing cards to-nigbt ?” Just then Slocum’s basso profun do smote the ears of the trio. “Two cards,” said he. Mrs. Benson, in her vexation probably, at being untimely called out of bed, said, with sweet woman ly innocence, “Why, that’s your husband !” “Oh, yes!” said Mrs. Slocum.— “Wait awhile, my dear, and see who else’s husband you hear.” Just then Benson’s voice put iq an appearance: “I bet ten.” ‘All 1” said Mrs. Slocum, “that’s yourhusbaud.” Then Mackintosh’s voice came again to the front, and both Mrs. Benson* and Mrs. Slocum turned to Mrs. Mackintosh and said, with one voice. “And that’s your husband !” Well, to make a long story short, Mrs. Thompson was brought down, and she, too, heard the evidence of her senses against the sins of her husband, and the four indignant fernals held a calm counsel of war in regard to their proceedings. Mrs. Slocum wanted to go right in and collar them all on the spot, but, the rest was too timid. Finally the exciting noises, the jingling of glasses; the fumes of segars and the cabalistic phrases in the room increased to such an extent that Mrs. Slocum could stand it no longer. She determined to go in alone, on condition that her al lies should follow her after the first desperate plunge was taken.— This the female confederates sol emnly agreed to do, and they join ed hands in token of the compact. Then Mrs. Slocum, curbing her righteous indignation, knocked firm ly at the door. Nobody in the room seemed to care much for this knocking, the noises and the cabal istic sentences went on as before, and Mrs. Slocum knocked again.— Then for answer came a volley of oaths that startled Mrs. Slocum from her hold on the door knob, and sent the throe allies two or three yards back toward the reserve line. Then the gallant Slocum, with marvellous intrepidity, de manded admission in the name of woman’s outraged rights. “ Open this door, Judge Slocum, and let your wife in !” With that she pressed firmly against the door, determined to go in if the door was opened. A dead silence reigned for a sec ond inside ; then there was a baso profundo oath ; then there were two or three coarse snickers ; the lights were suddenly doused, tables were upset, and all the humanity in the room broke for the door. Mrs. Slocum sunk, like a dying swimmer in his agony, into the wrathful sea of men’s apparel that surged be youd her as the door was suddenly opened and the three allies who were going to back her so firmly fled ingloriously up the broad stair case to their couches, where they were curled up in innocent sleep when their husbands finally found them. The scene that ensued I cannot describe. Slocum and his wife have gone, and all the men are to be seen in knots laughing among themselves. Let this inform them tliat the women are having a pretty good laugh too. Candy-Eating. “ Shall I.let my children cat can dy ? ” is a question over which pa rents are yet sometimes puzzled. This is not surprising, for doctors and doctors’ books differ upon the question. Some teach that candy is an evil to be avoided; others, who like it themselves, say that white candies at least are harmless, and may be eaten at discretion. Neither side is quite right. The chief injury that candies do is that of spoiling the appetite for other food. When honestly made, color ed candy is quite harmless in itself. Thus the red candies are colored with beet-juice. But it is safer on the whole to stick to the white can dies, which are made of starch and sugar flavored. The love of sugar is a natural and healthy appetite, especially in children, who peed more saccharine matter than grown persons. Yet they should not be allowed to eat sugar to the exclu sion of heartier food. By devour ing candy in large quantities be tween mealif they spoil their appe tite, and often injure their digestion. This is the only serious objection to candy eating. A good rule iu the matter is to prevent the child from eating candy so near to meal times as to make him leave a full plate of breakfast or dinner. But after a meal he can eat as much as he chooses without preoccupying his appetite for the next. Good candy, eaten at the right time, is an excel lent food.— Hearth and Home. An enormous woman, one Caroli na Heenan, is now on exhibition in London. Her age is said to be twenty-two years, and weight 560 pounds. She measures seven feet around the body, twenty-six inches around the arm, and three feet six inches across the shoulders. It is added that, unlike most fat people, this large lady is able to sustain great physical exertion, is “hand some and pleasing” and “highly in telligent,” not in the least “drow sy,” nor is her face “fat and greasy.” As my wife at the window one day stood watching a man with a monkey, a cart came along with a “ broth of a boy,” who was driving a stout little donkey. To my wife then I spoke, by way of a joke, “there’s a relation of yours in that carriage 1” To which she replied, as the donkey she spied, “Ah, yes —a relation by marriage ! ” The chances of life are three times greater in favor of those who are temperate as against those who indulge in Spirits; for, taking a hundred thousand of each between fifteen and seventy, thirty-two of the latter will die to every ten of the former. Os the same number, cf each, seventeen thousand of the intemperate will die before reach ing fifty years of age, and only four thousand of those who do not “ in dulge.” Death among Politicians. The New York correspondent of the Rochester Democrat, writes : The recent death of Vallaudig ham calls my attention to tho re markable exception which it forms to that of other departed political! leaders. It is indeed worthy of no tice that this class of men have lived to an old age, or to its near ap proach, and that they have seldom been removed by violence. On this account Mr. y allandighatn’s case attracts particular notice. His death and that of Peter Cagger are among the rare instances of the death of political leaders by acci dent. The death of A. P. Upshur, Secretary of the Navy, by the bursting of the big gun aboard the Princeton, in 1843, is the nearest parallel; but he was not a political leader. The revolutionary patriot ot Massachusetts, who made Fanu eil Hall ring with his eloquence,died by a stroke of lightning. Lincoln was slain by an assassin, and w'as the only one of our Presidents who died by violence. To these may be added the inferior name of Ilis cok, w hose fate w'hilo a member of the Constitutional Convention is fresh in the memory of ourreaders. Webster, while in Albany in 1845, was on the point of taking passage on the steamer Swallow, which was wrecked near Hudson, and had he done so he might have been among other victims. Among the short lived politicians the most distinguished was Hugh S. Legare, the bright star of Ty ler’s Cabinet, who died in Boston in 1842. Ho was only forty-six, and had served as United States At torney for less than two years, but had won eminence in that time Os our statesmen, Clay reached the age of seventy-five, Jackson seven ty-eight, Calhoun sixty-eight, Web ster seventy, John Quincy Adams eighty-one, Buchanan seventy-eight, Van Bnren eighty-one, Taylor six ty-four, Cass eighty two. Marcy was soventy-onc and Edward Ever ett the same. Benton was seventy six, and remarkably vigorous. Web ster, Calhoun, Cass and Van Buren were born in the same .year, 1782. Going back to men of older date, John Adams saw his ninety fist year, Jefferson his eighty-third, both dy ing on the Fourth of July, 1826. Burr lived to eighty one, which was a striking contrast with his ances tors, for his father was forty two at the time of life death, and his grand father, Jonathan Ed wards, was on ly fifty six. Monroe lived to seven ty-three, John Jay to seventy-four, Patrick Henry to sixty-three. We thus learn that our politicians, not withstanding their cares and vexa tions, enjoy an existence much be yond the average, and that'the ear ly death of such men as Legare and Henry J. Raymond formed the ex ception. Good Health as an Element of Suc cess. It is no exaggeration to say that health is a large ingredient in what the world calls talent. A man without it may be a giant in intel lect ; but his deeds will be the deeds of a dwarf. On the contrary let him have a quick circulation, 11 good digestion, tire bulk, thews, and sinews of a man, and t.,e alacri ty, the unthinking confidence in spired by these, and though having but a thimbletull of brains, he will either blunder upon success or set failure at defiance. It is true espe cially in this country, thaf thonum ber of contours in every community —of men in whom heroic intellects are allied with bodily constitutions as tough as horses is small ; that in general, a man has a reason to think himself well off in the lottery of life if he draws the prize of a healthy stomach, without a mind, or a prize of a fine intellect with a crazy stomach. But of the two, a weak mind in a herculean frame is beter than a gi ant mind in a crazy constiution. A pound of energy with an ounce of talent will achieve greater results than a pound of talent With an ounce of energy. The first requi site to success in life is to be a good animal. In any of the learned pro sessions, a vigorous constitution is equal to at least fifty per cent, more brains. Wit, judgment, imagina tion, eloquence, all the qualities of the mind, attain thereby a force and splendor to which they never could attain without it. But intellect in a weakly body, is “ like gold in a swimmer’s pocket.’’ A mechanic may have tools of the sharpest edge and highest polish ; but what are these without a vigorous arm and band ? Os w hat use is it that your iniud has become a vast granary of knowdedge, if you have not the strength to turn the key ? The Baltimore Commercial Convention. —At the closing ses sion of the Commercial Convention at Baltimore, yesterday, the reports of several committees were made and adopted. A resolution recommending that Congress pass an act granting uni versal amnesty; also, the following: Whereas, this Convention lias adopted thq resolution asking the General Government to refund tho tax collected on cotton. Therefore, Resoloed , That coal oil and iron, and other commodities having paid a similar tax, be included in the res olution in favor of rofuuding the tax ou cotton. St. Louis was selected as the place, and the third Monday of No vember, 1872, as time, for holding the next Convention — -Patriot. NO. 42 A Man Lost. _ A short time a man was picked up in the streets of an ob scure . Texan village, in a dying condition. He was clad in a suit of ragged homespun, and was palo and emaciated to the very last de gree. Several kindly disposed per sons took charge of him and cared for him until ho died. The poor vagrant had no money, and a pack age of faded letters in his pocket afforded the only means of identi fying him. Fifteen years ago this man was one of the most elegant and accom plished gentlemen in the country, lie bad all the advantages of wealth, education, and social position. It was at tltis time- that we first met him. He had just returned from tin extended European tour and his stories of travel and descriptions of the famous men and placos of the Uld W orhl possessed for us ail the fascination of the Arabian Nights, Our brilliant young friend immedi ately became a lion in society. He settled in a neighboring State and commenced the practice of law.—• Few r men ever started out in life under brighter auspices, and in a very short time the young advocate was universally spoken of as ono of the “coming men” of the future. As an orator he had few superiors, and we have often heard old men compare him to Sargent S. Pren tiss. lie w r as a strikingly hand some man, and his commading ap, pearancej combined with that inde scribable something,which, for want of a better name, we call personal magnetism, made him exceedingly popular w’itli all classes of people. Time passed on, and our friend married. Everybody predicted for the young couple a life of unalloy ed happiness. But iu a few short months the young wife’s dream of wedded bliss was rudely dispelled. For the first time she made the dis covery that her husband was a drunkard ! It was hard to realize tho fact, but it was only too true. The wife did all in her power to make,home happy, but without success.' Her» gay and brilliant husband preferred the wine cup to the domestic heirth, and spent most of his time in rev eling with his boon The neglected and almost heart bro ken wife at last yielded to the so licitations of Iter family, and a sep aration was the rosult. The unfor tunate lawyer abandoned his profes sion, sold his property and W’ent to the far West. The remaider of the story is soon told A few years of dissipation worked their usual re sults, and after a bijief career of ex citement and adventure the poor wanderer .staggered into a little vil lage on the Texan froticr and laid himsoll down to die. • :i «rT And this w r as tho end of one of the most brilliant men in the South! It is not a solitary instance. Simi lar ones occur every day. But it is useless to moralize. The story carries its lesson with it, of course, it will not be heeded. Had this wretched man avoided tho wine cup, he would doubtless bo living to-dav, in the full enjoyment of health, fortune, position, and do mes: ic happiness. He couldhave made his mark at the bar and In the councils of the nation, but ho cbo.se another pathway in life, audit led him die very gates of perdi tion. We can only Record “another man Lost !”— JVetr Era. A Chapter on Batter. “ Why is it my son, that when you drop your bread and butter it is always on the butler side?” “ Don’t know. It hadn’t otter, had it? The strongest side ought to be up, and this is the strongest butter 1 have ever seen.” “ Hush—its some of your aunt’s churning,” “Did she churn it, the great lazy thing?” “ What, your aunt ?” “ No, this here butter. To make the poor old woman churn it when its strong enough to churn itself.” “ Hush, Zep, I’ve eat a great deal worse in the most aristocratic houses.” “ Well, poo<j»le of rank ought to eat it.” « q/ « Why?” “ Cause it’s rank butter.” “ You varmint, yOu ! what makes you talk so smart ?” “ ’Cause the butter has taken tbo skin off niy tongue.” “ Zep, don’t lie ! I can’t throw away the butter.” “ I’ll tell you what I would do with it; keep it to draw blisters.— You ought to see the flies keel over as soon as they touch it.”— lndex. “In Tennessee a hotel proprietor is called ha-sh-ruill boss.” It required 10,565,000 yards of twine to tie up tho letters from Lou don Post Oflice to this country last year. A love letter, picked upin Spring field, Illinois, had the following par agraph : “My best loved one, I chawed the postage stamp on your last letter all to thunder, because I knew you licked it on.” In responso to an inquiry of a scientific publication : Whence come fleas? a Western journal says it does not care a nickel, but would like to know where in the thunder they go to when you go for them. An Ohio young man had a girl whom he was courting arrested for biting his lips. The fool! Wo would be chawded into hash before having a girl arrested for that.