Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-????, December 15, 1871, Image 1

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Cuthbert weekly appeal., December 15, 1871, Image 1

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Newspaper Page Textyol. y. TJP: APPEAL. —f~ mil FUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY, BY SAWTELL & CHRISTIAN. Terms of Subscription : Om Year $3 00 j Six Months $2 00 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. No attention paid to orders for tlie pa yer uti'ess accompanied by Jtlie Cash. Rates of Advertisina:: Op« square, (leu lines or lees.) $1 Oil for the li'sf. and 7T> Cents for each subsequent ineer doe. A. liberal deduction made to parties who advertise by the year- Persons sending ad vertisements should mark ■the number of times they desire them inser ted, or they will be continued until forbid aud "harmed accordingly. Transient advertisements must be paid for At the time of insertion. If not paid for before the expiration of tlie time advertised, 25 per cent additional will be charged. Announcing names of candidates for office, f.'i.OO. Cash, in ail cases Obituary notices over five lines, charged at regular advernt-ing ra f es. All communications intended to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, So cieties, or individuals, Will be charged as ad veriiseineutp. Jon Work, such a? Pamphlets, Circulars, Cards Blanks, Handbills etc.., will be exeeil ted in goad style and at reasonable mtes. All letters addressed to the Proprietor wil' be promptly attend- and to. REMOVAL!' PLANTERS WAREHOUSE ! WE now have the pleasure of informing tile planters of Randolph and adjacent ■comities, that K. McDonald hxsertc ed anew. large and Commodious Warehouse, 011 depot sire t south fide of and near the public square. The location beinu more central aud near tlie business partot ilie cli.y. will enable us to of fer many more inducements to tlie planting pahlie than heretofore —where we will be phased to meet with our numerous old pi int ing friends ami customers besides many, many new ties. Wo haveampl arrangements for the recep tion and Stop of Cote aM Ms. Thankful lor past favors, we hope, with in creased advantages aud personal attention to give general satisfaction and tuerfe a liberal patronage. The latest published Commercial News will at all tiineß be at tlie service of our .friends and patrons. Liberal cash advances made on cotton and goods in store. Consignments Solicited. Personal attention given to tlie sale of Cotton, Bagging. Ties. Salt. Cuano, Thresh ing Machines., Cot on (tins, Wagons, Buggies. Harness Ac., Ac. Plantation supplies furnished ailowe-t mar ket prices. Wagon yard, well, rooms, lire places, fur nished teamsters free. W* arc looking forward with pleasure to the speedy completion of two new Rail Hoad thorough fires to ooreity, which will doubt less cause a grant reduction in freights, there by enhancing Hip value of cotton ami making our tnai ket second to nnue in the interior.. Planters, look to your into cst an i bii ig your cotton to Cuthbert.. e. McDonald & co. augß-4m ANDREW Female College, CUTHBERT GA. TIIE exercises of this inrt'tution will be resumed on Wednesday, the 20th of Sep tember next, and close ou Thursday before the last Sabbath in Jane. The scholastic year will be divided into Three Terms, beginning 20th September, Ist. January and Ist of April: REGULAR COURSE: PKKTIKM. PER ANNUM. Primary Department sl2 00 s3l>oo Preparatory *• 1500 4500 Collegiate “ 20 00 60,00 Diploma Fee. (paid on graduating) $5 00 Incidentals 100 Hoard, Washing, Fuel and Lights, 18 0(1 Regular tuition of and ughters livi-g by the ministry—no charge Each boarding pupil should lie .urnished with a Bible, Truuk, one pair of sheets, oue Eair of Pillow-cases, one pair Blankets, four aud-Towcls, over-shoes ami umbrella. EXTRA COURSE: ri rt annum. Gtcrk undFrench, each S4O 00 Tuition in Music 60 00 Use of Piano 8 o' l Drawing and Pastel 30 00 Instructiod in Oi’ Painting, 4 I 00 Calistheuics, conducted by a lady 5 0o Singing in Classes No charge Extra course pursued at the option o! Pa rents and Guardians Payments must be made in October, Jannnry and April. Each pupil should be present a* the opening of the School. The undersigned bavin - been elected Presi dent of Andrew F,-male College, an old an,l popular Institution sends fraternal 1 reetings to the Colleges of the Sontli, makes Ids bow to the public, and -olicits sympathy and a lib eral share ot patronage. Summoned to a high and holy work —that of preparing the mindsand hearts of the you g for the business aud pleasures joys and sor rows of lif<—he " H! call to his assistance the best educators of the eouutrv, and addivss himself to the task with a-1 tlie zeal and in dustry that he can command. Should lime whose verdict we won, demons!rate itial lie Cannot preside with • ignily aud success— that lie isincap .ble of-miariiug ustritction— that he is is not in the Proper plaCt—that A. F. C. does r-ot return a substantial equivalent to its 'patrons the Pr si ton will abandon the enterprise and refund all damages reli giousiy assessed. Parents and gnardiaus wishing to educate girls sluiuid ",,tforget Our healtlnul locality, refined society, commodious and well ventila ted buildings, beautiful grounds, magnificent grove, and r-asonahle tates. JOHN B McGEHEE President A F. C. Cutld c.-t, Ga.. Ann 16th. 1871. ts VALUABLE LAND FO® SALE!! I offer for sale my Plantation lying on the Be nevolence and a ball miles from Cuthbert. containing 405 Acress, known as Lots Nos. 227 and 228. There are 13-1 acres cleared, tta-a .ce well timbered.— Comfortable dwelliugs and necessary out buildings. WiM be sol-1 at a bargain. For further particulars apnlv *0 or address aep29 ts W K, WALL. SNUFF & TOBACCO, BY THE JAR BOX "Very Low, at ALLISCN & SIMPSON’S. CUTHBERT mm APPEAL. It Mcver Pays. Ft never pays 10 fret and growl When fortune seems our foe : The better bred will push ahead And strike tlie braver blow. For luck is work. And those who shirk Should not lament their doom ; But yield the play, And cheer the way. That better men have room. It never pays to foster pride. And squander wealth in show : For friends thus won are sure to run In times of want or woe! The noblest worth Os all the earth Are gems of heart and brain— A conscience clear, A household dear, And hands without n stain. It never pays to hate a foe, Or caf r to a friend ; To fawn and whine, much less repine, To borrow or to lend. The faults of men Are fewer when Each rows his own canoe ; For fends ami debts And pimpir-d pels Unbounded mi-chief brew. It never pays to wreck the health In drudging after gain ; And he is sold who think that gold Is cheaply bought with pain. An humble lot, A cosy cot, Have tempted even kings, For stations high That wealth will buy, Naught of conteulm-nt brings. It never pays! A blunt refrain, Well worthy of a song ; For age and youth must learn this truth That uothing pays that’s wrong. The good and pure Alone are sure To bring piolortged succ-*3s! While what is right In heaven’s sight Is always sure lo bless. How to Pay tlie Public Debt without Taxation. A correspondent of the St. Louis Republican, catching an idea from the prevailing spirit of the Yankee nation, has concocted, matured and promulgated the following splendid scheme lor the payrneut of the 11a tional debt without crushing out the industry of the country : llow to pay the public debt in good and lawful money, without taxing the people for that purpose, and without tarnishing tlie nation al honor, is the gteat financial ques tion of the nineteenth century. The undersigned, some time since, found a complete and satisfactory solution to this difficult problem.— Remembering, however, the old maxim, that “ republics arc un grateful,” he has hesitated in giv ing publicity to his grand scheme; but his sense of duty to the public will not permit him longer to remain silent. Actuated by a spirit of lof ty patriotism, which is in striking contrast with the all prevailing sel fishness of this con upt and venal age, he has determined to let the nation have the incalculable benefit of his itnmcnso discovery, hoping and trusting that his countrymen, when once emancipated from the degrading thraliem of public debt and oppressive taxation, will, in the first ardor of their gratitude, belie tlioold maxim above quoted. The success of my plan will re quire the abrogation or repeal of that section of the Federal constitu lion, which provides that “ No title ol nobility shall be granted by the United States.” This constitution al restriction removed, there would be no further obstacles in the way. I shall not here attempt to give the minute details of my stupendous plan, but only a general outline, which may be briefly stated and readily understood. It consists in the creation by Congress of the va rious titles of nobility found in Eu ropean countries, and the sale of patents of nobility at public auction to the highest bidder There should be a dukedom for each State, a marquis for each of the great cit ies ot the Union, an earldom for each congressional district, while county viscounts and knights might be scattered promiscuously over the country, so as to be within the reach ot men of moderate fortunes. At the sale of the patent for the dukedom of New York, the proba ble competitors would be A T. Stewart, Commodore Vanderbilt and August Belmont. Not less titan $25,000,000 would be realized from this sale. Col. Jim Fisk, John Morrissey, Boss Tweed, and a host of others would contend for the ti tle of marquis of New York city Not less than $10,000,000 would be realized from the sale of this title. The earldoms of the several congres sional districts of New York would average $1,000,000 apiece, while the sale of inferior titles would pro duce enough to make up more than $100,000,000 from this single State, and that, too without taxing the people a farthing. Life Without Trials. —Would you wish to live without trials ? Then you would wish to die half a man. Without trial you eaunot guess at your own strength) men do not learn to swim on a table; they must go into the deep water, and buffet the surges. If you wish to understand their true character— if you would know their whole strength—of what yon are capable, throw them overboard. Over with them, and if they are worth saving they will swim ashy re of themselves, CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1871. THE LOST LETTER. I remember the dav when grand father took “old Welch’s boy” into his office, just as well as I remem ber anything that happened yester day, though, it is sixty years ago. Grandfather was a lawyer—Law yer Place the folks called him—and he had got on well, very well in deed; owned a fine piece of land, and a house that was the pride ot Gosstown, on the hill—the aristo cratic part of Gosstown, where all the handsome dwellings were—and had I don’t know how much in bank stock and gold besides. And there were always a couple of boys in the office; and now one had been sent away for idleness, and grand father was looking for another. “Would it do to try old Welch’s boy ?” said he. “He’s looking for a place, and the school master speaks well of him, and the minis ter too; but then, you see he is old Welch’s boy—that’s the worst of it ” “No matter grandpa,” said I.— “Try him, I’ll go security. I know lie’s good. l)o try him. You see, Walter Welch and I were not quite strangers. He lived in the low part of the town, low in every sense—full of the people from the factory, and lying among the marshes, out of which agues came up and shook the poor folks who lived in ihe damp little houses.— And his father was tipsy old Welch, who had killed his wife with cruel ty, and was killing himself with rum. And Walter was shabby and poor enough, Heaven knows; but he had a gentlemanly way with him for all, and a good face and sweet voice; and lie had my pet poodle from some boys who were going to kill it, and lie climbed down tlie precipice where there was just a foothold between him and death, to get me a flower I had said in his hearing I wanted. And at Sunday school lie was the brightest and best boy of them all. And it seemed so hard that the sins of his drunken father should descend upon inno cent Walter. And so I plead with grandfather, and, because be had decided to do so perhaps—for why should he listen to a girl fifteen ? told me, at last, that he would hire ;he lad. I can see him as he looked when lie came into the office—a tall, slen der boy with fair hair and a bright flush of color in his cheek; as pret ty a boy of seventeen as one could fneet anywhere, though his clothes were so worn and dingy. I can see him sitting at the tali desk writing, an hour after as though he had been there forever, and grandfather aud old Mr Ames nodding to each other as who should say, “He’ll do.” I can see myself too, with my hair all in puffs, and my white mus lin frock and kid slippers, sitting before the tire in our parlor after ward, working at a fruitpiece in floss silks on white satin. It was the oldest room you ever saw, full ot curious things from one end to tlie Other. Grandfather had travelled a good deal, and had filled the house with Curiosities. There were pictures and statutes, and rare china and Chinese idols, and drinking vessels from Turkey and long Turkish pipes, and bits of In dian bead work, and a real Persian carpet; and scattered over the ceil ing, Cupids and cherubs, and fes toons of roses, painted there by a French artist who had great talent, they said, though lie lived and died without being licit or famous. But the pride of the room was the great mantle-piece, brought from Italy, all covered with carvings that told some wonderful mythological story. Ah, what a fool I am! There it stands. It was older than grand lather when he had brought in pieces over the ocean, and it will outlast the baby there in its cradle. Aud as for uot knowing the story, it’s the old oue, I’m thinking; for there’s Cupid, aud a shepherd and a shepherdess, and it’s the girl that Cupid is taking aim at. Our hearts are tenderest, perhaps, is why lie wounds them worse. “Men have died, and worms have eaten them ; but not for love;” but many awo man lias died of love, in good sound earnest, I believe. I was too young to think of such things then. But alter a while I dropped my work, and sat looking at the carvings, or I often did, and thinking of the pretty faces ot the sheptierdess, and how through thy crack at the back of the shelf, me gold thimble had rolled a week ago, aud laid there out of reach among the mortar that held it in its place, though I’d fished for it by hours to gether. Perhaps Welch’s boy would one day get it out for mo, he was so smart and so kind. VV ell, in a week or so I askedjura, and he tried, but in vain. It was a day when grandfather and old Mr. Ames were both away, and we had a long, long talk. The nicest brightest boy he was—the best and dearest boy. I wished that I had a brother like him dozens of times.— We were always so very sosiable after that. He told me some of his troubles, and 1 felt sorry for him from my heart. It makes a woman love any one so much more, to be just a little sony for him. Inno cent, childish love it was ; but even then it was love all the same that I felt for Walter Welch. It does not seem much to tell, after all. We grew older both of us. They said I was a beauty, and I was grandfather’s heiress. Two or three came courting me before I was eighteen, and before that time, old Welch had put anew disgraoe upon his son by mixing himself up with a robbery. I saw the foolish old man taken by to jail, and I cried a little for Walter’s sake. He did not forsake his father even then, but went to visit him, and did all he could for him. He was as pale as death could be, when I saw him again ; but lie said no word about it, aud of course I did not But I wanted. O how I want to tell him that no one could think less of him for auy such misfortune. It was Garret Gray, who owned the woolen mill, who came a court ing me just then. They were a good family, the Grays, and fine looking too. Every girl in town envied me, I do believe, when he walked beside me, or danced with me at the Assembly balls. He made no secret of liking me; he was a man out and out; and I wondered that I did not like him better; but you see, Walter was in my mind.— And get one man in your mind, there is little room there for anoth er. But all the while he said nothing. He was too and twenty by that time; and lie had come to be a clerk in grandfather’s office, and was reg ularly studying law. We were men and women, and if he had liked me as I thought he did once, he surely would have spoken, if it were only a word or two. He was very kind and friendly, but no more; and if these shepherdesses had had eyes to see and tongues to speak with, they’d have stories enough to tell of those days. I bated the thoughts of being an old maid, as every girl does; but how cook* I marry any but the man I loved ? and he did not ask me. A look now and then make my heart flutter, or a sigh troubled and pleased me, but a girl must wait for words. I waited in vain. And Garret Gray courted me so warmly, aud I taught, as girls must be, that fortune should not wring my love from me as long as I was not sure it was returned, tried-to seem cold to Walter, and did not mind seeming warm enough to Garret Gray, for I cared nothing for him. I knew ho was poor enough, but I would be rich. And I knew he was old Welch’s son, but that made no difference. I pined for a kiss or a loving word from him, as starving people long for bread. The one great joy of earth seemed to me the hope of be ing Walter’s wife. I’m so old now, that I don’t mind telling you the truth; then I’d have died first. One day we sat together before the fire blazing under that great mantle piece—grandfather and his partner, Walter and I. It was un cle’s birthday, and we itad a little feast, and Walter—just as well thought of after five years in the office as any one there—had been asked to taste the old wine grand fhtlier prided himself on. And we were talking of what had happened in the town, and of how Doily Rose was married. “And Japhet courted her five years,” said grandfather, “afraid to ask It or the question all the while, and she came near jilting him out of pique ; but he’s got her after all.” “Served him right if she had jilt ed him,” said I. “If a man loves a girl, let him say so out and out, or else let her not wait so: him ” “A man may be too bold some time, and presume on kindness,” said Walter, “and be huffed for his pains.” “He’ll know Iter mind at least,” said I, “and site’ll know his. It’s death to have to wait and wait. I should think so, at least.” I blushed when I said that, I knew, aud Walter blushed too. I wished I had not spoken. He was silent all the evening after that; but when lie left us he shook hauds, and kept my band in his a little while, and looked at me in a way that made my heart beat furiously. I laid awake all night, and only fell asleep when the sun aas rising , and it was so late when I arose, that the maid was dusting the parlor, and—awkward thiog! had got a feather fan half way down behind the mantel piece. We just saved ft, and I scolded her well. I felt out of sorts that day and scolding came natural. “Olt, if I had not made that speech ! I thought. What did Walter think of it? And I asked myself thatquestiou more than once, for from that I never saw him again. I did not go to the office, nor he cotne to the parlor; and on Satur day grandfather came in to tea, aud sat down with face half puzzied and half angry, and said ; “There’s a piece of news for you, Effie. Walter has gone.” “Gone where ?” 1 asked, turning cold. “Left us,” said grandfather, “Effie, there’s something queer, about this. Have you been hurt ing him.” “He never gave me a chance to hurt him, grandpa,” said I; and the truth would out then, “If he had — I—l couldn’t have hurt him, grand pa, dear. He never liked me one bit, though I liked him.” And grandpa said “Ah Effie, it’s dangerous leaving young folks much together. I wish, things had been different for I liked Walter. No matter, Kiss me, Effie.” So I kissed him. We nev~r spoke of Walter, and he never came again—never, never ! To me it wm as if lie were dead ; but I could nol cry for him as though he had been. Ami after a while Garret Gray made me listen to hitn, and we were married. And oh, the sin and the shame ! I did not love him one bit. I married, just so that Walter might not think I pined after fiiij]. You couldn’t expect much happi ness from such a marriage; none came. It was aty fault, I suppose, as much as his. We fell out soon, and quarrelled constantly. We had a girl, and a little cripple boy, who died at five years old, and I loved them dearly, and used to wonder how it was that they both had Wai ter’s eyes. You see that sometimes a woman’s children now and then look like the man she loved, whom she never even kissed, rather than like the husband she has married; and I blamed Garret for a fall the boy got, and was hard with hitn.— In the end he ran away and left me to myself. I came back to this house then —grandfather was dead —aud brought my little girl. Soon I sent her to school, and then used to sit day after day, evening after evening, before Unsold mantle-piece watching Cupid with his bow, and the shepherd and shepherdess, and the satyrs down below there, and thinking of the old times and Wal ter. My hair turned gray early, and my figure shrank, and my face wrinkled. They called me old Mrs. Gray when I was forty, just as they do now. Do you believe in mesmerism ? I do, a little. There was something that drew me constantly to that old mantel-piece, kept me touching it, and looking at it, something very strange, as you’ll believe when I’ve told you all. My girl grew up and married, and came to live with me, and her chil dren climbed about my knee, and made me tell them about the fig ures ou the marble there ; and in my old age a kind of calm came to me—a sort of happiness, as though I rested ; and I looked back on the girl I had been once, and on the wo man I had been afterward, pitying ly’) as though they were other peo pie. Why not? The Effio they had named after me, my grand daughter Effie, was as old now as I when I fell in love with Walter Welch ; her mother older than I when I brought her back to my own home, and settled down to ray dull, lonely life. Two weeks ago, Effie came and told me she was going to be mar ried. She was all blushes and smiles. It seemed odd enough to me ; but 1 promised her a handsome gift and wished her all good wish es, and felt as pleased as her mother did in setting the house in order, and seeing all was nice and neat.— I’m not feeble yet, though I’m sev enty-five. We had new carpets sent from the city, and the great parlor was newly painted, all but the ceiling. And my daughter would have the grand old mantel-piece reset; for tlie crack behind was a great gap now, and it really was in danger of falling. A mason came for the pur pose, and we stood, woman like, watching him. He took the pieces down one by one, and there was the mortar with all sorts of things in it. There was a knitting pin, and here a paper-folder of poor grandfather’s, and matches and a china jar cover, and there was my thimble—m y gold thimble—lost sixty years before. “ And here’s a letter,” said the mason handing it to me. I looked at it. It was black with dust, and sealed as though it had never been opened.— I put on my glasses. My maiden name was written upon it—Miss Effie Place -and the band I know it, though I had not seen it for all these years, was Walter Welch’s. “ What’s the matter, mother ?” said my daughter. “An old letter, dear,” said I.— “It brings old times, back that’s all.” And I went away to my room aud sat down there by the window, and read that letter for the first time, fifty-five years after it was written—read my only love letter from the only man I over loved, half a century after date. “ Dear Effif,,” it began, “ you think a man who is worth much should not be a coward, even in love. So do I. Therefore I begin as I do. Dear Effie, I love you. I want yon for my wife. I never can be happy without yon, and it you can make me happy by saying that you like me, for Heaven’s sake, do so, for you can’t guess what a con dition of mind lam in. I know I’m not quite all I ought to be toward you, I know how heavy my poor father’s disgrace lies upon me; but I love you, aud I’ll try my best to make you proud of me, if you can think of me at all. I cannot speak to you of my heart. I cannot even write as I would, but I love you better than Garret Gray could love any woman, and I think you would be happier with me. If your an swer is ‘ Yes,’ please send me just one little line. If it is ‘ No,’ don’t say anything. I will understand it and go away. When I have sealed this I will put it on the mantel piece in the parlor, where you will be sure to find it. And whatever your answer, I shall always be your true and tender lover. Walter Welch. “ But for God’s sake try to love me. Try to answer ‘ Y"es.” I hadn’t cried before for twenty years. But I Cried when I read that letter like a child. The clum sy maid had brushed it into the crack in the mantel, and never told me ; and so all my life had been al tered —and all his perhaps, for he had a loving heart —by a switch of a maid’s dusting brush, and a crack in an old mantel piece. Andl won der whether he lives or is dead ; ftnd whether he eygr married. But’ I wouldn’t care to have him know the truth now ; it’s all too long gone by, and we are as much dead to each other as though tlie sod was over us. The Tomb oi* Rachel. Mr. James Brooks, in a letter from the Holy Land, says : “Upon my return to Bethlehem, I rode to the tomb of Rachel, a small build ing, with a whitened dome, and having within it a high, oblong monument, built of brick and stuc coed over. This spot is wild and solitary, and not a tree spreads its shadows where rests the beautiful mother of Israel. Christian, Jew and Moslem all agree this is just the spot whore Rachel was buried, and all unite in honoring it. The Turks are anxious that their ashes may rest near lier’s, and hence their bodies have been strewn under tombs, all around the tomb of Ra chel. The sweet domestic virtues of the wife have yvon their love and admiration, as the tomb of Absalom, near the brook of Kedron, their de testation. Upon the latter they throw a stone to mark their horror of the disobedient sop; while around the former, they yvish when they die their bodies may be interred. Nor is this wonderful. The wife with fourteen year’s service as shepherd must have boon a wife worth having. The yvhole life of Rachel is, indeed, one of the most touching in political history. This sweet shepherdess has left her work upon the memory of men as yvell as her tomb. The tribute to her is a tribute to a good wife; and Israel, Jew and Christian all combine to pay it. Tlie great women of the earth—the Zenobias and Cleopatras —have died, been buried, have been forgotten to this day, stands over the grave of Rachel, not the pillar Jacob set up, but a modern monument in its place, around which pilgrims from every land under the sun gather in respect aud reverence for the faithful wife and good moth er of Israel.” The NEyv York Bun on the State Road Lease, &c.— TheNeyv York Sun of the 27th contains a long double leaded editorial, pitch ing into Grant, Delano, Cameron, Bullock and Blodget, lor the fraudu lent lease of the Georgia State Road. The Sun expresses the hope that tlie honest Legislature now in ses sion in Atlanta will thoroughly in vestigate the details of this swind ling transaction. It is thought the recent threats of martial law in Georgia were made for the purpose of intimida ting the Legislature and deterring that body from doing its duty in this matter. Among the bills waiting the ac tion of Congress is one offered by Porter, Virginia which virtually pro poses the centralization of all j udicial power in fourteen States, including Georgia, Florida and tlie two Caro lina’s. Stopping a Newspaper. - Oue of our exchanges has the following allegory, which we commend to the careful consideration of those gen tlemen, who, the moment they see anything which displeases them in the columns of their local journal, rush to the printing office and cry out “stop my paper.” It is certain ly anew song upon the old subject: “ A certain man hit his toes against a pebble and fell headlong to tiie ground. He was vexed, and under the influence of anger and self-sufficiency he kicked tlie earth right saucily. With imperturble gravity he looked to see the earth dissolve itself and come to naught. But the earth remained, aud only his poor foot was injured in the encounter. This is the way of man. An article in a newspaper touches him in a weak spot, and forthwith he sends to stop his paper. With great complacency he looks to see the crash, when he finds lie only hit his own toe against a world that does uot perceptibly feel the shock, aud injures no one but himself.” The Late General Clanton. — The Legislature of Alabama is about to do an act worthy of that noble State. The late General Clanton lost bis life while in her service as a lawyer, Messrs. Stone & Clopton being associated with him. A bill has been reported to pay the three twenty thousand dollars for proses sional services in the Alabama & Chattanooga Railroad case, and Messrs. Stone & Jlopton have mag nanimously agreed to release their interest. This is as it should be, and we hope the report of the com mittee will be adopted without a dissenting voice. General Clanton, we learn, left his family in a very dependent condition. Best Horses for farm use. The hardest work on the farm for horses is breaking up sod, which is certainly not one-eighth of the whole work. Light horses, weighing 1,100 or 1,300 are best for most of the other work: they are best on the road, and before the harrow, (not before the mower and reaper we think.) At cross-plowing and har rowing a coach horse will do one fourth more than a heavy drafthorse. Besides, it costs much more to keep the heavy horse, and on sandy, or wet soil, he siuks so much as to worry him, For all uses which the farmer has for horses, the medium sized or coach horses are the best. Topers who travel about with red noses should be indicted for on cu tting incendiary article^. Tlie Type-Setter. WHITTEN ON HEARING A FRIEND C.U.1.E11 ’‘TAL ENTED FOR A MERE TYI’E SETTER.” “A mere Type-Setter! still a man The word, perchance, may well revere Unknown, unnoted, one who can Hove nought to hope and nought to fear ; Yet when the kingly sceptred hand, The brow that w.-ors the princely gem. That wields so well a wide command Whose stick may match a diadem ! “ mere Type-Setter !”, Let its see ; Who gave the glorious stripes to air, That mark the banner of the free, And bound (lie stars that glimmer there ? Who turned the bolt of heaven aside, And conquered its ethereal fire ? Who bade the lightning harmless glide Alo g its magic wand of Are ? “A mere Type Setter ! ” Search the past, The record of §ic|) battle-field ; Who nailed our colors to the mast, An 1 died because they would not yield ? Who taught our hand to strike the blow, Through toil, and danger, and distress, That severed England’s chain of woo— Who but the masters of tlie Press? “A mere Type-Setter ? ” Name of fear— To bid the slava to freedom wafte — That tyranny should quake to hear! And old oppre ssion’s empire shake ! Is Franklin a forgotten name, That men no longer may revere ? lias Prentice lost bis soul of flame, Or Greeley dropped his pen of firp ? “A mere Type-Sitter! ” Honored name, Which ages yet unborn may bless When empires crumble, and their fame Has sunk in worse than nothingness. Show nte the thing whose jeers deride The “ mere Type-Setter's” humble school, And I’ll show yon an ape of pride. As brainless as the dandy fool! Jefferson’s Ten Rules. Jefferson’s ten rules are good yet, especially so for those who have the training of the pupils in our public schools. They are so short and con cise, and embody so much of value, that it would be well if they were clipped and put where we could see them often. They read as follows : 1. Never put off till to morrow What you can do to-day. 2. Never trouble another for what you can do yourself. 3. Never spend yonr money be fore you have it. 4. Never buy what you do no} want because it is cheap. o. Pride costs more than Iran* ger, thirst and cold. 6. We seldom repent of having eaten too little. 7, Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly. 8 How much pain the evils have cost us that have never happened. 9. Take things always by the smooth handle. 10 When angry, count ten before you speak ; if very angry, count a hundred. Fathers, a Thought for you. —“What will you take to drink,” asked a waiter of a young bid, who, for the first time accompanied his father to a public dinner. Uncer taii what to say—feeling sure lie could not be wrong if he followed his father’s example, he replied,‘U’ll take what father takes.” The answer reached xhe father’s ear, aud instantly the full responsi bility of his position flashed upon him. And the lather shuddered at the history of several young men, once as promising as bis own bright lad, and ruined by drink, started op in solemn warning before him. Rapidly these thoughts went through his mind. “If the boy falls, he will not have me to blame ;” and then in tones tremulous with emo tion, and to the astonishment of those who knew him,he said : “ Wai ter, I’ll take waterand from that day to this strong drink has been banished ftom that man’s house. The Newnau Herald is determined to go to the front. In addition to the snake, it forwards the ckampi ou citizen, “ a gentleman aged 45 years, who is now, and lias been for a long time, engaged in active busi ness, who never signed a note either as principal, security or indorser, never bought anything on a credit, never borrowed a cent in his life, never lost but ten dollars of loaned money, never expects to lose any more, nor asked any one to change a bill for him since the close of the war, although compelled to change many daily forjiis customers.” The Washington Patriot says: “ Tlie cause of the postage stamps, bearing the portraits of Washing ton, Franklin, Jefferson, Jackson and others, curling and twisting in all kinds of shapes, is under consid eration by postoffice officials, and the conclusion liasabout been reach ed that those old fellows cannot lie still amid the corruption and politi cal rascality that is goiug on all around them.” Sharp and Quick. —The last bonds Bullock issued, it is said, were those of the Bainbridge and Cuthbert Railroad. A person well informed upou tlie subject says these bonds were sent by Kimball to Bullock when the latter was en route for California, by a special messenger, and the State’s endorse ment was put on the bonds as our loyal Governor hied onward toward the Pacific at the rate of forty miles an hour. The Pennsylvania Railroad Com pany took possession of the work ing of the New Jersey roads last Monday week. NO. 51 VARIETY. A reliable piece of furniture— A determined stand. Why was Sodatn destroyed ?—- Because it was so dam wicked. “I'll rap you on your little head,” is a popular Western parody on a much sung song. If a woman were to change her sex of what religion would she be? She would be a he-lhcn. Little fish have a proper idei* of business. Not being able to do bet* ter, they start on a small scale. To gain ft |ftw suit, alas ! is to ac quire a hen and kifcc a cow !—Chi nese Proverb. If air costs flioney, man would be a very expensive animal, for It takes 24,000 gallons per day to keep him alive. Massa Christopher Columbus was a queer man, said a negro ora. to’’, *A notion crossed him one day, and den he crossed an ocean. ’ It lias rained so hard at Milwau kee for four months that the Cliica? go Republican asserts that all the children born there are web-footed. A sick man was told that his wife would probably marry again, “AIL right,” said he, “for there will be one man to lament my death 1” Whon I seo a man’s name «. Scratch’d upon the glass, I know bo owns a diamond, And his father owns an ass. Mrs. Partington says that “it is better to speak paregorically of a person than to be all the time fling, ing epitaphs at him. An old bachelor, who bears his lonely state with much equanimity, says : “It is better to bo laughed at for not being married than be una ble to laugh because you are ” It is with narrow souled people as it is with narrow-necked bottles —the less they have in them the more noise they make in povjrjqg it out. “Mr. Jones,” said Mrs. Jones, with an air of triumph, “don’t you think marriage is a means of graoe?” “Well, yes,” growled Jones; “I sup. pose any thing is a means of grace that bteaks down pride and leads to repentance.” Johnny was tolling his ma how he was going to dross and show oft’ when he gets to be a man. Ilis ma asked : “ Jolthny, what do you ex pect to do for a living when you get to be a man ?” “well, I reckon I'll get married and board with my wife’s pa.” A boy at Kingston, seven years old, is destitute of ears, and has a good j oke on his mother, who finds him difficult to box. But she makes it up on him on different portions of his territory. Ho says he wish es he had ears, like other boys. An editor in Illinois having en» gaged anew reporter, received the following as his effort: “We are informed that the gentleman hoo stood on his head under a pile dri ver for the purpose of having a tight pair of butes druv on, shortly afterwards found himself in Chiny, perfectly naked and without a cent in his pocket. ” Josh Billings says j “ Most men will concede that it looks foolish to see a boy draggiu’ a heavy sled up hill for the fleetin’ pleasure of ridin’ down again. But it appears to mo that the boy is a sage by the side of a young man who works hard all tlie week, and drinks up bis uages on Saturday night.” “ Papa,” said a little urchin to his futher, the other day, “ I saw a printer go down the street, just now.” “Did you, sonny? How did you know tlie persou was a priu ter ? ” “ Because I do, pa.” “ But he might have been a car penter, blacksmith, or ft shoema ker.” “ Oh, no, papa; he was a printer —likely an editor—for lie was gnawing a bone, and had no stock* ings on. The crown was out of his hat, and his coat was all torn. I am certain he was a printer.” A Spelling Test.— At a teacher* meeting recently held in Newburg, New York, a list of fifty words was given out., and of the uincty-four teachers present not one succeeded in spelling every word in the list correctly. The one nearest accura cy failed on but two words, while the dunce of the convention blundered at forty five words out of the fifty. In the ninety-four papers examined there were2G6o mistakes! The word “cachiiiation” was the sorest trial of all, there being no less than fifty different spellings. One erudite pedagogue spelled “apostasy ” thus- epposleca. The list we sub join, and it may occasion some amusement to test the young ones from it. It is: Intermittent, heresy, bilious coercion, ecstasy, clorionet, surcingle, paralyze, licorice, traffick ing, suspicion, ellipsis, apostasy, deleble, mortgaging, singeing, skib fully, subpoena, alicgaUlo, igmtible, phosphorescence, jeopardise ebuli-. tion, ajeronautic, sibylline, cadi in*, lion, vacillation, badianalian, fasci nation, crystallize, catechise, trisyl labic, tyrannize, apologize, gaqg ing, saccharine, hemorrhage, ren dezvous, Fahrenheit, Galilean, Sat)- dueee, erysipelas, hieroglyphics*, apocrypha, daguerreotype, idiosyn orasy, canaille, cannibal mignonette, kalleidosoopc,