Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-????, November 17, 1871, Image 1

Georgia Historic Newspapers

Cuthbert weekly appeal., November 17, 1871, Image 1

About Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-???? | View Entire Issue (Nov. 17, 1871)

Page of 4

Prev Issue Next Issue

Text PDF JP2 (7.2 MB) Clip/Print Image

Page of 4

Prev Issue Next Issue

Return to Top

Newspaper Page TextVOL. y. THE APPEAL. PUBLISH ED EVERY FRIDAY, BY SAWTELL & CHRISTIAN. Terms of Subscription : Oxb Yeah $3 00 | Six Months... .s2 00 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. No attention paid to orders for the pa per uu'ess accompanied by the Cash. Hates of Advertising : One square, (ten lines or less.) $1 00 for the ji 'Stand 75 Cents for each subsequent inner tlon. A liberal deduction made to paities who advertise by the year. Persons sending ad vertieements should mark the number of times they deeire them inser ted, or they will be continued until iorbid and •{harmed accordingly. Transient advertisements must be paid for at the time of insertion. If not paid for before «lie expiration of the time advertised, 25 per cent, additional will be charged. Announcing names of candidates for office, 05.00. Cash, in all cases Obituary notices over live lines, charged at regular advertising ni'es. All communications intended to promote t he 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 execn ted in good style and at reasonable lates. All letters addressed to the Proprietor will be promptly attended to. HEMOVAI. ! PUNTERS WAREHOUSE ! WE now have the pleasure of informing the planters of Randolph and adjacent «onnties, that E. McDonald haserected anew, large and Commodious Warehouse, on depot Street, south side of and near the public square. The location being more central and near the business part of the city, will enable us to of fer many more inducements to the planting public than heretofore —where wo will be pleased to meet witli onr numerous old plant ing friends and customers besides many, many new ones. We have ample arrangements for the jecep tion and Step of Cotton anil Roots. Thankful for past favors, we hope, with in creased advantages and personal attention, to give general satisfaction and merit a liberal patronage. The latest published Commercial .News will at all times be ut the service of our friends and patrons. Liberal casli advances made on cotton and .goods in store. Consignments Solicited. Personal attention given to the sale of ■Cotton, Bagging. Ties, Salt,.Guano, Thresh ing Machines., Cotton Gins, Wagons, Buggies, Harness, &c.. &c. Plantation supplies furnished atlowc t mar Wet prices. Wni'oii yard, well, rooms, fire places, fur nished teamsters free. We are looking forward with pleasure to the speedy completion of two new Kail Road thoroughfares to our city, which will doubt less cause a great reduction in freights, there by enhancing the value of cotton and making •onr mai ket second to none in the interior. Planters, look to your iute est ant tiling ■your cotton to Cuthhert. e. McDonald & co. augß-4tn ANDREW Female College, CUTH3ERT GA. 0 rip HE exercises of tliis institution will be I resumed on Wednesday. the 20tli ot Sep tetule r next, mid close on Tliurertay before tlie lost Sabbat li in J line. The eebolustic yetir will be divided into Three Terms, beginning 2*lill September, Ist. January Hint lstof April; REGULAR COURSE : PKRTRKM. J**R ANNUM. Primary Department sl2 0(1 s3lit4) Preparatory ’* 15 00 45 00 Oolleviate “ 20 00 00,00 Diploma Fee, (paid on graduatbitf) $5 CO I mident.als 1 00 Hoard, Washing, Fuel and Lights, 18 00 Regular tuition of and. lighters .living by the ministry —no charge Each hoarding pupil should be urnished with a Ibble, Trunk, one pair of sheets, one pair of Pi low-cases, one pair Blankets, four liaud-Towels, over-slmes and umbrella. EXTRA COURSE: I’EIl ANNUM. G reek andFiench, each S4O 00 Tuition in Music lit! 00 Use of Piano 8 lid Drawing m and Pastel 30 00 Instrnc ion in Oi 1 Painting, 4 i 00 Calisthenics, conducted by a lady t •> Cos .Singing in Classes No charge Extra course pursued at, the option ol Pn •rents and Guardians Payments must be made iu October, January aud April. Each pupil should he present, a* the opening of the School. The undersigned having been elected Presi dent of Andrew Female College, an old and popular Institution, sends fraternal greetings to the Colleges of the South, makes his bow to the publb . and solicits sympathy and a lib -tral share ot patronage. Summoned to a high Htid holy work—that of preparing the mindsand hearts of i lie you g for the busiuess and pleasures, joys and sor rows of life—lie w ill call to lus assistance the best educators of the country, and address jiiuiself to the task with all the zeal and in dustry that lie can command. Should time, whose verdict we woo, demonstrate that lie ji-aunot preside with dignity and success— i.liat lie is incapable of imparling .net ruction— that he is is not in the proper place—that A. F. C. dcies not return a substantial equivalent •to its patrons-tlie President, will abandon the enterprise and refund all damages reli giously assessed. Parents and guardians wishing to educate girls should not forget onr healthful locality, refined society, commodious and well ventila ted buildings," beautiful grounds, magniticeni grove, and reasonable rates. JOHN B McGEHEE, President. A F. C. 'Cuthhcrt, Ga., Ang. 16th, 1871, ts VALUABLE LAND FOR SALE!! I offer for sale my Plantation on the Be nevolence road, one and a halt miles from .Cuthbert, containing 405 Acres, known as Lots Nos. 227 and 228. There are I3d acres cleared, balance we.ll timbered. — Comfortable dwellings and necessary out buildings. Will be sold at a bargain. For further particulars apply to or address. sep29-tt W. E. WALL. SNUFF & TOBACCO, BY THE JAR AND BOX Very IjiOttv, at ALUSON & SIMPSON’d. CUTHBERT SIK APPEAL. The Shadows in the Val ley. BY H. L. FLASH. There’s a mossy, shady valley, Where the waters wind and flow, And the daisies sleep in s inter ’Neath a coverlid of snow ; And violets, blue-eyed violets, Bloom in beauty in the spring, And the sunbeams kiss lh» wavelets Till they eeem to laugh and sing. But in autumn, when the sunlight Crowns the cedar covered bill, Shadows darken in the valley, Shadows ominous and still ; And the yellow leaves, like banners Os an elfin host that’s fled. Lined with gold and royal purple, Flutter sadly overhead. And these shadows, gloomy shadows, Like dim phantoms on the ground, Stretch their dreamy length forever On a daisy covered mound. And I loved her ; yes, I loved her, But the angels loved her too; So she's sleeping in the valley, ’Neath the sky so bright and blue. And no slab of pallid marble Rears its white and ghastly head, Telling wanderers in the valley Os the virtues of the dead ; But a lily is her tombstone, And a dew-drop pure and bright Is the epitaph an ungel wrote Iu tlie stillness of til; night. And I’m mournful, very mournful, For my soul doth ever crave For the fading of the shadows From the little woodland grave ; For the memory of the loved one From tny soul will never pari. And those shadows in the valley Dim the sunshine of my heart. South Carolina. BY J. W. IIEWITT. The star of thy fame bath departed, There arc omens, blood-red in the sky ; Thy fair daughters weep broken-hearted, While thy gallant sons smother the sigh, Tlie keen sword of power Hangs o’er tbee, A black veil is drooping before thee, The strength of thine arm Succumbs lo the storm, While the thoi gs of oppression still gore thee. The proud blood of Huguenot sires, Who were thrown on thy wave beaten strand, Gave life to the fl'ckcring fires That kii.dled onr dear Southern land. Thy wise men were trained up to love thee, Their eloquence failed not lo move thee— When uprose the Right To battle with Might, And the flag that waved, taunting, above thee. Rut, where are the proud and stout hearted Who rose to dissever the chains? With the ghosts of the past they’ve departed ; Os their names, scarce a record remains! Their homesteads are now desolated, Or claimed by the stranger they hated ; While in their high place Stands an ignoble race, And Destiny's pen writes—“ 'tis fated ! ” The sword and the sceptre of power Are placed in a stern despot’s hands ; The finger of Time points the hour When strangers shall rule o’er thy lands. For thou can'st not bear the cheek blushing, Or turn back the pure spirit’s gushing, When ly rants decree That bent be thy knee, Tiie groans ot thy gall ’d honor hushing. Utah—A Tragedy of 1857. Warrants are out for the arrest of Brigham Young and his son, J. A. Young, on the charge of murder, in having ordered the killing of Rich ard Yates. The indictments on the murder cases are understood to be founded on the testimony of Bill Hickman, who was once termed by the Gentiles a Danite or secret agent of the Mormon authorities.— Yates visited the Mormon camp du ring the rebellion of 1557 ostensi bly to sell gunpowder. The Mormons regarded him as a spy, and some weeks after arrested him and placed him in the custody of Hickman, at Salt Lake. D. Wells then commanded the Mormon troops, and Hosea Stout was the Judge Advocate. On the way to Salt Lake he killed Yates, as he says, by an order from Brigham Young and Joseph A. Young, and at the instigation of Wells and Stout. Hickman is also confined now at Camp Douglas. He went with the officers to Echo Canon, and after pointing out the spot where he bad buried Yates, assisted in dis interring the remains. A shipowner, in dispatching his vessel, had a great deal of trouble with one of his men, who had got drunk on his advance wages. Af ter vessel had accomplished her voy age, on settling with the crew it came to the man’s turn to be paid. “Whatname?” asked the merchant. “Cain, sir,” was the reply. “ What! are you the man who slew his brother ?” “No, sir,” replied Jack, giving his trowsers a nautical hitch, “I’m the man that was slewed.” Lunches for Horses. —In the grocery stores in the city of New York, “ horse lunches ” in the shape of bunches of clover are sold.— Could not farmers learn a lesson from “ city 7 folks ” in this, and pro vide their teams with a “bite ” and a rest often minutes in the middle of a hard forenoon’s ploughing ? “ Sam, how did you like that knife J sold you last week ? ” “So so. Its not very sharp, yet you managed to shave me with it,” CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1871. The Wife of Washington in her Workroom. BY JAMES PABTON. There are fine ladies, it is said, at present, who disdain the homely, honarable duties of house keeping, thinking it beneath them to attend to the comfort, happiness and dig nity of their families. If any such there are, I should like to invite them to look into the workroom Mrs. Washington,at Mount Vernon, the apartment in which the first la dy of Virginia, in Virginia’s palmy days, used to spend her mornings at work, surrounded by busy ser vants. Every great house in Vir ginia had such a room in old times, and ladies plumed themselves upon excelling iD the household arts prac ticed therein. This particular workroom at Mount Vernon is de scribed in old letters of the period, copied and given to the world some years ago, by the late Bishop Meade, of Virginia. It was a plain, good sized apart ment, arranged and furnished with a view to facilitate work. At one end, there was a large table for cut ting out clothes upon. At that time, every garment worn by the slaves had to be cut out and sewed either by the ladies of the mansion-house, or under their superintendence.— The greater part of General W ash ington’s slaves worked on tions several miles distant from his homo, and were provided for by their several overseers; but there were a great number of household servants at Mount Vernon, besides grooms, gardeners fishermen and others, for whom the lady ot the house had to think and contrive.— At that broad table, Bat a skillful, nice-looking negro woman, some what advanced in years, with a pair of sheers in her hand, cutting, cut ting, cutting, almost all day and ev ery day, the countless trowsers, dresses, jackets and shirts, needed by a family of, perhaps a hundred persons. Everything worn by the General or by himself, except their best outside garments, which were imported from Loudon, were made in that room, under the eye of the lady of the house. All the commoner fabrics, too, were home-made. On one side of the room, sat a young cojpred wo man spinning yarn; on another, her mother knitting ; elsewhere, a wo man doing some of the finer iron ing ; here a woman winding; there a little colored girl learning to sew. In the midst of all this industry sat Mrs. Washington, ready to solve difficulties as they arose, and prompt to set right any operation that might be going wrong. She was always knitting. From morning till din ner—which was two o’clock—her knitting was seldom out of her hands. In this workroom, she usu ally received the ladies of her fa miliar acquaintance, when they call ed in the morning, but she never laid aside her knitting. The click of her needles wasn’t always heard in the pauses of conversation. Her friends were surprised to see her, after her eight years’ residence at the scat of Government, instant ly resume her former way of life. They found her as of old, in her workroom, with her servants about her, knitting and giving directions. One lady, who visited her after the General’s retirement from the presi deucy, gives an instance of her pru dent generosity. •‘She points out to me several pairs of nice colored stockings and gloves she had just finished, and presents me with a pair half done, which she begs I will finish and wear for her sake.’’ Thus she contrived in one and the same act, to make a present and give a practical lesson in industry. She was, indeed, a signal example of that virtue, at a time when la dies of wealth aud importance could scarcely avoid practicing it. Site used to speak of the time spent in levees and oth_-r ceremonial duties, as, “my lost days.” The chief labor ol the mistress of a house then was in training ser vants. Mrs. Washington, like the other Virginia ladies, had an eye upon the families of her slaves— and most of them had very large families—and when she noticed a little girl that seemed bright and apt to learn, she would have her come to the workroom, where she would be taught to sew, and after wards, other home arts. In this way the house was kept supplied with good cooks, chamber-maids, seamstresses and nurses. Promis ing girls were regularly brought up, or, as we may say, apprenticed to the household trade which they were to spend their life iu exercis- This training of servants was for mcrly supposed to be part of the duty of all mistresses of great hous es, whether the servants were white or black, bond or free. Ladies d'd not then regard a house with all its complicated and business apparatus, as a clock, which, being wound up after breakfast, would run twenty four hours without further attention. Having themselves actually per formed all the operations of house keeping, and having acquired skill in their performance, they knew that a good servant is not born, but made; and they were willing to take a world of trouble iu forming a servant, in order that by and by they might enjoy- the ease and pleas ure derived from skillful service. I must confess that sometimes, when 1 have heard ladies complaining of the awkwardness of girls who, un til recently, had never seen a house hold implement more complicated than a poker, or an iron pot, the thought has occurred to me that possibly, if they would take some trouble to teach such girls theif du ty, they would observe a gradual improvement. There is a tradition iu Virginia that Mrs. Washington, with all her good qualities, was a little tart iu her temper, and favored the Gene ral, occasionally, with a nocturnal discourse, too much in the style of Mrs. Caudle. The story rests upon the slightest foundation, and it is safe to disregard. Great house keepers, however, are not usually noted for amiability of disposition, and ladies whose husbands aro very famous, are apt to be over run with company, which is not conduc ive to domestic peace, nor does it tend to curb the license of a wo man’s tongue to remember that, at her marriage, she brought her hus band a vast increase, both of his estate, and of bis importance in the social system. llow far George Washington was, in his youth, from anticipating the splendid career that awaited him ! He was by no means so favored in fortune and family, as his biogra phers would have us believe. Ev ery reader, I suppose, remembers the fine tale, which even Mr. Irving repeats, of the youthful Washing ton, getting a midshipman’s com mission, and yielding it again to his mother’s tears. There lay the British man-of-war at anchor in the river. The boat was on shore; the lad’s trunk was packed; and, I think, his uniform was on. But, at the last moment, the tender youth, overcame by his mother’s tears, de cliried to go. Such is the romance. The truth was this : His motlTer, left a widow, w r as anxious for the future of her boy, fourteen years of age, whose only inheritance was a farm and tract of land on the Rappahannoc, of no great value or promise. She w'as advised to send the lad to sea, be fore the mast, in one of the tobacco ships that so often ascended the broad rivers of Virginia. She was for a while disposed to favor the scheme But her brother, Joseph Ball, a London lawyer, in large prac tice, remonstrated against her sac rificing her son in that way’, and advised her to bring him up a plant er. “I understand,” he wrote, “that you are advised, and have since thought of putting your son George lo f sea. 1 think lie had better be put apprentice to a tinker, tor a common sailor before the mast has by no means the common liberty of the subject; for they will press him from a ship where he has fifty shil lings a month, and make him take twenty-three, and cut and slash, and use him like a dog. And as to any coucsiderable preferment in the navy, it is not to be expected; as there are always so many gaping tor it here, who have interest, and he has none.” He proceeds to tell her that, a Virginia planter, with three or four hundred acres of land, and three or four slaves, has a great deal better chance ot winning a comfortable and independent position, than even the captain of a merchant ship —and it was far from easy to get to Vie captain. “George,” he concluded, “must not be in too great baste to be rich, nor aim at being a fine gen tleman before bis time; but go on gently and with patience.” Tlie mother accepted this view of the situation, and the boy was not cut and slashed on board ship. He learned, as we all know, the busi ness of a surveyor, and practiced that vocation until the death of his brother gave him a competent es tate. He was Colonel commanding the Virginia troops, twenty-seven years of age, and shining with the lustre of the fame recently won on Brad dock’s field, when first the rich young widow Custis cast upon him admiring eyes. He was riding, booted and spurred, in hot haste, from headquarters to the capital of the province, where he was to con fer with the Governor concerning the defence of the frontiers. With in a few miles of his destination, he vas pressed by a friend to stay to dinner. With extreme reluctance he consented, intending to mount the moment the meal was over. At the table he met the widow, and was captivated. The horses ivere pawing at the door, but the young Colonel came not forth. The after noon flew by, yet he came not- — Evening drew on, the horses were taken back to the stable—Col. Wash ington had made up his mind to stop all night. It was not till the next morning that he rode away. Within a year they were married at the “White House,” which was her home, and they took up their abode At Mount Vernon soon after. Her husband Lad left a vast estate in lands, and foity-fiye thousand pounds in money, oue-third of which was hers, and now became the joint property of Colonel Washington aud herself. By their marrirge, he became one of the richest men in Virginia. She gained an excellent husband, and her three children a wise and careful father. If any lady in Virginia could claim exemption from the cares and labors of a household, on account of her wealth and social standing, it was Mrs. Washington. She had been an heiress and a beauty. For generations her ancestors had been persons of wealth and high consid eration Her first husband possess od a great fortune, and her second was the most illustrious personage of his time. But she deemed it a privilege to attend to the details of housekeeping, and regard the days when she was obliged to shine in the drawing-room, as “lost.” Peter Holt’s Rock Heap. BY CLAEA AUGUSTA. Peter Holt’s wife would have been a very happy woman but for one circumstance. There is always something, you know. She had anew house, a lot of new furniture, anew bonnet, and various other things too numerous to mention, but in themselves emi nently calculated to raise a woman to the heights of felicity. But one thing troubled her vast ly. Peter, her husband, had a most disagreeable habit of digging rocks and making rock heaps. This digging of rock3 was almost a monomania with Peter. He nev cr seemed quite content unless he was engaged in his favorite busi ness, and as the soil of his farm was four quarters rocks and the rest dirt, of course the rock heaps multiplied astonishingly under his perservering system. Now Mrs. Holt detested rocks.— She never could clearly understand what they were made for; but as they were made, why not let them stay where nature had pnt them, and not make the world unsightly by bringing them into notice ? She used to talk a great deal to Peter on his unfortunate hobby, but he was one of those men whom you can never t eason out of an idea, and so he went on with his digging —soiling his shirts, tearing his pan taloons, blistering his hands, and converting his farm into one mess of rock heaps. 1 Under a locust tree by the garden gate, in full view of the parlor win dows, was a rock heap of enormous growth Quite a pyramid for this country. This heap gave Mrs. Holt a keen pang every time she looked at it. It took off her view of Wid ow Jackson’s door yard ; and Wid ow Jackson had a good many sweet hearts, and of course it was nice to be able to watch them, and see how often they went, and how long they stayed. But that rock heap made it quite impossible. Indeed, cvery-body spoke about this unsightly thing, and wondered whe 'e so many rocks came from, and how long it took to dig them, and what they were dug for ; and discussed generally upon the matter, so much that Mrs. Holt, fairly hated that particular rock heap. She begged Peter, with tears in her eyes, to remove the rocks, but he laughed at her. The land was worthless, he said, and they might as well bo there as anywhere. He liked for people to see that he hadn’t been an idle man in his time. He guessed he had worked as many hours a day as any other fellow ! One day Lanceburg, the village near which the Holts resided, was greatly excited by the arrival of a fortune teller. Madame La Tours was a wonder in her way. She could tell everything one wanted to know, and many things one would not want to know—all for fifty cents, and the strictest secrecy observed. Peter Holt was a credulous man, and after madanie had flourished for a few days, lie went to see her. She told him wonderful things.— Fame, fortune and happiness, were to be his, and he was to live to a great age, and he honored, respect ed, and looked up to—etc. But strangest of all, she informed hitn that on his place was a pile of rocks—close by the foot of a locust tree, and beneath this pile was bu ried a vast treasure of gold and sil ver. If he would make this treas ure his own, he must remove the stones to a gulch not far off, which she described accurately. lie must do the work himself and take no one into his confidence. “It is a big pile,” said madame, reflectively, “ and it will be a great labor to remove it, but in the end you will be rewarded with wealth unbounded.” “ Yes, ves ! you're right!” said Peter, “ it’s a big pile, and it will cost me a mighty lot of money to bust it up, but I’ll do it, by jingo !” Madame applauded his resolution and Peter went home so full of his prospective wealth, that though it was seven o’clock of an extremely hot August day, he set to work at once on the rocks. Ilis wife amazed beyond measure, came out aud anxiously inquired what he was doiug. “ Never you mind,” said Peter, loftily, “ I’m a man as knows my biziness. Jest you tend to your cooking.” This was a stereotyped answer of his whenever Mrs. Peter made any suggestions, or offered any advice. It was a long, tough job. Peter used up one pair of pantaloons en tirely, and wore his hands almost to the bone, and got his horses so stiff that they couldn’t be whipped into a trot to save the world, but he finished the business at last, and the sole remaining rock was safely deposited in the gulch. “ Now for it!” said Peter to himself, and rolled up his sleeves and seized his pick to break ground for the treasure. At this time Mrs. Holt came out. “ For pity’s sake, Peter,” said she what are you about? Ypu won’t have no trousers to your back if you continue on in this way 7 .” Never you mind, old lady : jest you tend to your cooking. I’m a man that knows what he is about. I never was fooled or bamboozled oy anybody iu my life.” “Well,” said Mrs. Peter, submis sively, “ I don’t dispute yon, Peter, but i deem it my duty to tell you that 1 paid Madame La Tours two dollars and fifteen cents for tolling you the story about the treasures being buried under that rook heap. And its my opinion that if you dig till doomsday you’ll never find no thing but more rock. But you’re a man as knows his biziness and you can dig if you want too. Peter flung his pick at the locust tree with such force that the handle Mas broken in two, and one piece like a boomerang, returned and hit Peter on the shins, and brought him down like a shot from a twenty pounder. He scrambled up, a little crest fallen and taking the sympathising Mrs. Peter by the arm and led her into the house. “ Look here, old woman,” said he, “never you say anything to any body about this ere affair, and here’s twenty dollars to buy you anew shawl. And hereafter, I’d advise you never to mind me, but you just tend to your cooking.” 3lrs. Peter took the money and bought the shawl, and kept silent on the matter of the rock heap, like any other woman, until site got ready to speak.— S r eic York hedy cr. Manuring; the Orchard. Next lo starting the orchard with good varieties, nothing is of more importance than feeding the trees liberally. The best variety in the world cam.ot remain a good variety if starved into disease, any more than can a good variety of horses or a good variety of cattle. What would you think of the man who would pay an exorbitant price fora famous Jersey cow, reputed to give eighteen quarts of milk per day, and put her to pasture to obtain her own feed upon one of our old sedge fields, where broom sedge was the exclusive growth ? Would you not regard him as a very fool ish dairyman, and don’t you con elude that his eighteen quarts per day would soon “ come out at the little end of the horn ?” Well, the case of the man who puts out his fruit trees and leaves them to shift for themselves in an old sedge field is precisely a parallel one. No mat ter how excellent his varieties, the fine yield of fine fruit promised in the nurseryman’s catalogue cannot, under such circumstances, do oth erwise than “ come out at the little end of the horn.” Now is a good time for ma nuring the orchard, and it should not be suffered to pass unimproved. Old trees and young should have their ratio is for the next season put out to them now--we say now, and why we say it is because our heavy winter rains will soon come, and if they find the manure upon the ground they will carry a large pro portion of it down among the small roots of the tree, depositing it where it can readily be taken up. If you desire to do the thing properly, dress the entire ground of your orchard, and don’t be sparing of the manure. It will bring far better results than could possibly arise from merely manuring around the trees, for the small feeders, or roots, run everywhere, and they are generally, more numerous some distance away from the tree than they are close to it. Scatter broad cast and put under by a very shal low turning. Old trees gone into decline from neglect, may generally ho revived by what is called “ trench manur ing.” Commence within a few feet of the trunk and dig in radiance di rectly from it like the spokes of a wheel, several narrow trenches, sink ing them to the depth of three or four sett, and extending them be yond the distance reached by the longest brauches. Fill these with some kind of good and well rotted coinpost, and cover the surface with three or four inches of common soil. If this is done now, or soon, the compost will have settled together and become a natural deposit, as it were, by spiing, when, if the tree is not already too far gone, to put out leaves, its minute roots will burst through the walls of the trenches find themselves “in clover,” go to work -with alacrity, and soon send new life into every part of the growth. Almost any species ot manure will be found beneficial to theorch ard. Stable or barnyard manure has few superiors; none, perhaps, if a little ashes and lime are combined with it. A most excellent orchard compost may be made of swamp muck, stable manure, hard wood ashes, and litne. Where the lime is not convenient, crushed bones may be made to answer the purpose, and leaf mould may be used in place of swamp muck. It should be heaped together and left to un dergo a thorough rotting. —Mobile Register. “ Whiskey is your greatest ene my,” said u minister to Deacon Jones. “Put,” said Jones, “don’t the Bible say, Mr. Preacher, that we are to love our enemies ? ” “Oh, yes, Deacon Jones; but it don’t say we are to swallow them.”, A lad arrested for theft, when ta ken before the magistrate and asked what his occupation was, fraukly ailswered, “ Stealing.” -i Your candor astonishes me!” said the Judge. “ I thought it would replied the lad, “seeing how many big ’uns thero are in the same business and is ashamed to o\yn it.” TRIER MD TRUE. Another True Story of California Life. In the year 1851, there were among the early American settlers of California two brothers named Thompson, who having come thith er from the Eastern States at the beginning of the gold excitement, three years befere. and labored con jointly for the more generous fa vors of fortune, without commensu rate result, decided at last to sepa rate for a time ; the one to go to the mines and wgrk for the frater nal partnership, while the other re mained in the city and improved such chances as ordinary business should offer. By such an arrange ment two promising fields would be worked at once, and its wisdom was equally obvious to both young men; but when it came to the ques tion of which should assume the hardships and perils of a miner’s life, neither exhibited an alacrity to name himself for the adventure. To decide this delicate point they drew lots, by which formula of fate the elder Thompson was doomed to become the miner, and accordingly procured an outfit and prepared to leave the city. Before taking tho latter step, however, the miner elect chose to bring a little romance of his California life to a climax by w’Ctlding a young eastern woman, w’ho, like himself, had left home to woo fortune on the Pacific coast, and, although he could not take her with him into the wild, comfortless life of the mines, the satisfaction of feeling that he had at least secured her for himself, and had a beloved brother in whose care to leave her, gave him more courage and inspira tion for his departure than might have been possible for him as a bachelor. Wedded he was, then, and after the honeymoon of heroic brevity he consigned his bride to the protection of Lis brother, and bravely marched away with pick and shovel to the gold fields of the North. Eager as he naturally was to dig his prize fron. the earth and hasten back to the greater prize left behind, he was firmly resolved to deny himself wife, brother and home until he could indeed he the bearer of some share of wealth. So when his first essay in the mines did not prove wholly satisfactory, he went sturdily onward into the Indian country, and amongst the red men added hunting and trapping to his mining pursuits. Thence mov ing still further northward, he reached Fraser river when the ex eitement about the auriferous yield of that locality was at its height, and there succeeded in digging no less than two hundred ounces of the pre cious dust, w r hiuh lie at once sent to his wife and brother in San Fran cisco. From them he had thus far heard nothing on his travels, for it had been agreed that they should not write until he should ho in some place reached by regular mails; hut no\^* e was impatient to learn how they regarded his present, and felt sure that they would devise some means of forwarding their written congratulation. The feeling was in vain, however, no letter came ; and after months of waiting, the finally indignant Thompson wrote to a friend in San Francisco with enqui ries respecting the silent ones. The answer came that they had recently disappeared from the city together, having apparently in their posses sion a considerable sum of money, obtained no one knew exactly how. The miner of course knew whence the money came ; but such intelli gence of its seeming effect upon those whom he had held dearest in the world appealed to his apprehen sion in a most sinister sense. lie believed that he was doubly betray ed ; that his wife and brother had basely and heartlessly practiced the blackest treachery against him,final ly using the gold he had sent to help them beyond his reach. Heartbro ken and desperate the poor fellow thought no more of any goodly for tune for himself, but cared only for such wandering wild adventure and savagery,as should divert him from all retrospective and tender thoughts. He joined an expedition to the Great Slave Lake, as it is called, and remained in the wilderness be yond reach of mail or messenger for several years. Returning final ly to Victoria, or Fraser river, he went with another expedition to Idaho, and there and in Montana lie was lost until as late as 1866. From the latter year until 1868 he was a resident of Salt Lake City, going from thence to the onco famous White Pine mines of Nevada, about eighteen months ago. Fortune smiled not upon his generally listless efforts; he had a life of comfortless vagabondage, and the twenty years of his absence from San Francisco wrought such lines in his face and whiteness in his hair as forty hap pier ones could not have produced. Some two weeks ago the broken, hopeless and embittered man visit ed a mining camp pot far distant from the town of Eureka, Nevada, for the purpose of joining a compa ny fitting out a trip to Arizona, and there, says the Eureka Sentinel, tell ing his story, he was fated to be de livered at last from the delusion of twenty miserable years. Jn the ex pedition preparing for Arizona was another ma n Thompson, who, though neither recognized or recog nizing at first, proved to be no oth er than our miner’s recreant broth er. When the poor vagabond die* NO. 47 covered this, despite his wrongs, ho fell upon his brother’s neck and cried like a child; and not only did that brother receive and return the caress without shame, but he took the earliest opportunity to reprove the other for leaving his wife and brother to suppose for nearly a score of years that he was dead. The gold had been received, but without address, or a line to tell whether it came as a living man’s gift or a dead man’s legacy. No let ter from the miner had ever reach ed wife or brother, though they had sent one to him. The wife had felt at last obliged to conclude that her husband was dead; the gold he sent her had been his dying gift, and w ith the money’ she bought a valuable farm near San Jose, where wearing tho w’eeds of widowhood, she still lives. As for the brother, he spent portions of tho last fifteen years in pursuit of some trace of the miner, hoping at least to find his grave and sanctify it with a fraternal tear; but now r that he ac tually saw the living man before him, nothing w r as left for them but a rushing journey to a certain val ley farm near San Jose, where the best, truest and staunchest would at once become the most surprised and happiest little woman iu the world. “Ere this,” concludes tLo story, “ there has been a meeting 1 .” The decline of life will pass in ease, comfort and happiness for a ipau who for twenty' years believed him self the victim of woman’s perfidy. Tam in g of the Bride groom. Mr. Spillman had just married second wife. On the day after the wedding Mr. S. remarked : “ I intend, Mrs. Spillman, {.p en large my dairy.” “ You mean our dairy,” my dear, replied Mrs. Spillman. “No,” quoth Mr. Spillman, “ I intend lo enlarge my dairy.” “ Say our dairy, Mr. Spillman.” “ No, my dairy.” “ Say our dairy, say our— screamed she seiziug the poker. “ My dairy ! my dairy ! ” yelled the husband. “Our ditiry! our dairy! ” screech ed the wife, emphasizing each wqrjj with a blow on the back of her cringing spouse. Mr. Spillman retreated under tho bed. In passing under the bed clothes his hat was brushed off, He remained under cover for sever al minutes, waiting fora lull in the storm. At last his wife saw him thrusting his head out at the fpos of the bed, much like a turtle from its shell. “ W hat are you looking for ? ” exclaimed the lady’. “lain looking for our hat, my dear,” says he. VARIETY. A dry goods firm on churcl) street, advertise domestic crashes. Is it 4 Chicago invoice ? Measures are on foot for stocking the open plains and prairies of the West with trees. The hilarious moon was so cheat ed at the clearing-off last night that she got quite full oyer jt, No matter how prosperous thejr business may be, whalers and la rtf* makers always have trying times. Anna Dickinson has pocketed by her lectures since 1860, the snjjg little sum of SIB,OOO, and Olive Logan who has hoop lecturing three years $40,000. At the lunatic asylum of LeopoL dified, Hungary, forty or fifty male inmates, whose cases are not hope less, are drilled twice a week hi iiijb itary tactics, for the promotion qf their recovery. Two interesting agricultural en terprises are in progress —one the cultivation of oranges in California, and the other the establishment of an olive grove qu the St -John er in Florida. Anew Jersey woman discovered her lost little boy in a Gipsy camp, and attempting to recover him, was assaulted and beaten off by the vdijt laws. The boy begged to" be allow ed to go with his mother. An illiterate farmer wishing to enter some animals at an agriptilH? ral exhibition, wrote to the Secret*, ry as follows : “Also enter me for the best jack ass. lam sure of tafe. ing the premium.” Boston has 148 churches, of which 27 are Unitarian. The Meth odists copie next with 22. The Baptist have 17 churches—the same number the Romanists; the Episoo palians 16, and the Presbyterians 7. A Goni passionate Boston seeing a vegetable vendor beating his horse, cruelly, cried out, “ Have you no mercy ? ” to which the as tonished man replied, ‘ f No 14am; I’ve nothing left but greens and en bumbers.” When Troy was in its infancy they proposed christening it Yam derhayden but better counsel pre vailed. Since that time a pareftjl statistician has learned that 2,806 barrels of ink and 453 years time has been saved in writing her name, “ Jenny,” said a landlady to hpp help the other morning, “was there any fire in the kitchen last night while }ou were sitting up ? ” ‘*Ou ly just a spark, ma’am,” was the re, ply. The landlady looked suspi, ciously at Jenny, but the innocent darling went on scrubbing and ‘hurti* tiling *• lvaty Darling.”