VOL. VI.
THE APPEAL.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY,
By J. P. SAWTEIX.
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The Pool* Man’s Darling.
A TALE OF HARD TIMES.
Why did you leave, Astore Machree ?
You were life, you were light you were all
to ino ;
Oh, our hearts are sad, an3 our cot 'is lone.
For we miss your face by the old hearth,
stone.
We cannot laugh, for we do not hear •
Your merry laugh, love, so soft and clear;
We never dance as we danced of yore.
When your little feet beat the cabin floor,
Hut we gather round the fire at night,
And the white walls gleam in the rudy light;
There we see your cloak and your little cbaTV
Hut ob, my darling, you are not there!
Your prayer-book is faded, old, and brown—
Here and there, as you left them the leaves
turned down ;
And oh, my darling, I even trace
Your finger-marks in some well-worn place.
Then each faded leaf I fondly kiss;
Oh, no relic of old is so dear as this !
And 1 weep my darling, when none are near
O’er the little fingers that rested here.
My gentle Eily, you came to me
Tn the cold dark hour ol adversity,
We were very poor, but a jewel raro
Shone on our hearth, love, when you were
there.
Dearer yon grow to our hearts each day
Every cold, harsh thought, love, you smiled
away;
And each want in our love we soon forgot,
Fo.i yod brought content to our humble cot.
Light was my heart as I toiled away;
For I thought of you as I tossed the hay;
And the fairest blossoms that around me grew
My own little darling, I kept it for you.
Blithely I sang when my toil was o’er,
as I sauntered on to our cabin door;
For I saw in the shade of the old ash-tree •
Your smiling face looking out for me.
Ah. me! how your sweet blue eyes would
shine
As I climbed the hill with your hand in mine
But you talked so wise that you made me
start
And clasp you close to my trembling heart
The golden autumn glided past,
And the dreaded time came on at last;
While smaller each day grew our little
store; •
Till the last had gone and we had no more.
Hunger, my darling, is hard to bear;
Still without murmur you bore your share;
Like a patient spirit you hovered near,
In want and in sorrow our hearts to cheer,
Kntey and Mary would cry for bread,-
But you laughed and danced, love aud sang
instead.
Oh, dear little heart 1 you were kind and
brave;
You knew there was none so you did not
crave.
You sang when your voice was faint and
weak,
When the bloom had flown from your fair
round cheek;
lu your tiney breast gnawed the .ungerpain,
But your lips, my darling, would not com
plain.
Oh ’twas sweet to feel yonr soft arms twine,
And your warm young face pressing close to
mine,
“Are you hungry love?” I would whisper
low;
But you shook your head, and you answered
“No.”
My darling! I saw you fade away
Like the last soft glauce of the closing day;
As the dying note of some magic strain
That charms the heart, then is hushed again
The sbawdows of death, love, dimmed your
eyes,
As the daik clouds pass o'er the sunny skies,
And the dhooping lids o’er those sweet eyes
fell
At the last soft stroke of the vesper bell.
A litle sigh—it was all I heard—
ike the Buttering wing of a captive bird;
And a sobbing voice, from behind the bed,
gating: “Father, father, is dead?'*
CUTHBERT 1§! APPEAL.
For the Cuthbert Appeal.
A Tour Through Texas, .
OR
Information for Emigrants.
CORYJSLL COUNTY.
County Seat, Gatesville. Area,
9GO square miles. The chief pro
ducts are corn and the cereals. —
There is very little cotton raised. —
But a small part of the county is
timbered, though the Leon River,
which runs through the county -is
well timbered. Stock-raising is the
principle business, though all have
small farms and raise great abun
dance. Provisions are cheap and
in great abundance. This county
has been somewhat exposed to In
diafl depredations. Improved
lands sell for from $2 to $3. Average
corn crop, 20 bushels; wheat,
about 15 bushels to the acre. Tim re
are only a few negroes heae and
they are very trifling. «
DALLAS COUNTY,
County Seat, Dallas. Area, 900
square miles. Population, about
15,000 whites; and near one 1,000
blacks. The county is chiefly prai
rie, but lias timbered land soflicient
for all ordinary purposes. The
soil of the prairie, is dark and clay
ey, and of the river lauds more
loanty or sandy and easy of culti
vation. It is all exceedingly rich
and productive. Dallas is a flour
ishing town of some three thousand
inhabitants. It is one of the most
promising towns in Northern Texas,
Lancaster, Cedar Ilill, Scyenc, and
Breckenridgo are smaller towns in
this comity, with from 200 to 600,
or 800 inhabitants each. This
county is in the centre of the wheat
region of Texas, though since
the war cotton has to a con
siderable extent taken the place of
wheat counties, and has proved to
be a profitable crop as it hears
transportation hotter than wheat.—
Tito chief products now arc wheat,
corn and cotton ; hut all other pro
ducts are raised in great abundance.
There are quite a large number of
flouring-mills in this county, and an
iron foundry at Lancaster. Nearly
all agricultural implements are made
at home, except the labor-saving
mowers, reapers, thrashers, etc.,
which are imported from the North.
Unimproved lands sell from $2 to
$5 per acre, and improved lands
seldom for less than $lO or sl2. —
This county is receiving a great
deal of attention now r from emi
grants. 20 to 35 bushels? of corn,
and 15 bushels of wheat and one
half bale of cotton per acre are the
average yield.
FORMERLY (nAVIs) NOW CASS COUNTY.
County Seat, Linden. Area, 927
square miles. Population, about
100,000. The whole of this county
is heavily timbered with all varie
ties of oaks, black-jack ash, hickory,
etc. There is also considerable
pine. The streams are Sulphur,
Johns and James creek and Black
Bayou. This is an agricultural
county, all the farmers, however,
raise stock for their own use. Pine
lumber is worth from $lB to $25
per-1,000 feet. There are several
saw and grist mills in this county.
The chief market is Jefferson, to
which place cotton is hauled at
$2,50 per bale. Lands are worth
from $2 to $lO, per acre $lO being
the price of improved land. The
yield per acre of cotton varies from
one half to one bale, and of corn
from 15 to 30 bushels. All the
small grains arc raised, and rice is
grown on the low hammock lands,
one hand usually cultivates 20 acres
in corn and cotton. Wages gener
ally sls per month, or more for
white laborers. The* white popu
lation is greatly increasing, while
the negroes have greatly diminished
in numbers since the war. There
are good * schools in all neighbor
hoods, and an academy of consider
able note at Douglasville. The
Episcopalians, Methodists, Baptists
and Presbyterians, have churches
in different parts of the county. —
This is noted beyond most others
for its extensive beds of superior
iron ore and coperas springs. Iron
foundries have been in operation
for fifteen years past, and castings
are supplied to the country ait gieat
distance around, and pig iron is
sent from the smelling furnaces to
New Orleans. There were two
coperas furnaces in opei'ation dur
ing the war, and are operated at in
tervals now. This was Cass county
previous to the.war but was divided
during the war and Marion and Da
vis counties made of it, but the last
Legislature changed Davis back to
Cass.
DENTON COUNTY,
County Seat, Denton. Area, 900
square miles. Population believed
• CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, AUGUST 9, 1872.
to he 12,000. This is one of the
finest wheat counties of Northern
Texas, and its lands, being very
fertile, produce not only corn and
other cereals, but cotton is now one
of the most profitable crops. The
larger portion of the county is prai
rie, and has been a fine stock-coun
ty ; but agricultural is fast encroach
ing upon the stock raising interest,
All the streams have timber, but
“ Cross Timbers,' ’’ in the* east part
of the county, affords the chief sup
ply of timber, and supply mast for
thousands of hogs. No county has
larger bodie's of rich land or more
beautiful farms, or a more prosper
ous population. It produces every
necegsary of life—fruits, vegetables,
cattle horses, sheep, hogs, etc. (see
map of Texas for boundaries,
streams, etc., Jefferson is the
nearest market, about one • hun
dred and seventy-five miles distant.
This county is rapidly filling up
with immigrants. Lands sell at
from $3 or $4 to sls per acre. All
immigrants can get farms without
difficulty by making small pay
ments and in a year or two their
crops will pay for thair farms. The
climate is healthy. Frosts are fre
quent in winter but ice and snow
are seldom seen.
dimniet and puvall counties,
Dirnuiet, area 1,060 square miles;
Duvall, area, 1,650 square miles.—
These two are unorganized counties
in the great stock range of the west.
Water and timber are both scarce,
though pasturage is splendid. But
few inhabitants. T. M. A.
A Happy Woman. What specta
cle more pleasing does the earth af
ford than a happy woman, content
ed in her sphere, ready at all times
to benefit her little world by her
exertions, and transforming the bri
ars and thorns of life into roses of a
Paradise by the magic of her touch ?
There are those who are tluis hap
py because they cannot help it; no
misfortunes dampen their sweet
smiles, and they diffuse a cheerful
glow around them, as they pursue
the even tenor of their way. They
have the secret of contentment,
whose value is above the philoso
pher’s stone; for without seeking
the baser exchange of gold which
may buy some sort of pleasure,
they convert everything they touch
into joy. What their condition is
makes no difference. They may be
rich or poor, high or low, admired
or forsaken by the fickle world;
but the sparkling fountain bubbles
up in their hearts and makes them
radiantly beautiful. Though they
live in a log cabin, they make it
shine with a lustre that kings and
queens may covet, and they make
wealth a fountain of blessings to the
children of poverty.
Too Late.— Among the Sierra
Nevada Mountains, I was walking
withsome of the passengers, to re
lieve the over-laden stage, when
one of them gave me his history.
He said, “With my wife I cam% to
California twenty years ago.- We
suffered every hardship. 1 went
to the mines, bat had no luck. Wc
almost suffered starvation. Every
thing seemed to go against us.
While we were in complete pover
ty, my wife died. Ater her death
I went again to the mines. I struck
a vein of gold which yielded me
forty thousand dollars. lam now
on my way to San Francisc to trans
fer the mine, for which I am to
receive one hundred thousand dol
lars.' 5
“Then,,’ said I, you are worth
one hundred thousand dollars. He
said “Yes, but it comes to late.
My wife is gone. The money is
nothing to me now'. 55
So there are those whose entire
life is made up of poverty and mis
fortune. When success comes it is
too late, and they cannot enjoy it.
But glory to God ! the path of tears
has a terminus. The storm will
not blow on forever. Child of God,
you are not far off from the last dis
appointment and the last groan.
The Lamb which is in the midst of
the throne shall lead you to the liv
ing fountains of water, and God
shall wipe away all tears from your
eyes. —De Witt Talmage.
A young lady at an evening
party, some time ago, found it apro
pos to use the expression “ Jordan
is a hard road to travelbut,
thinking it too vulgar, substituted
the following:—“ Perambulating
grogression in pedestrian excursions
along the far-famed thoroughfare of
fortune cast up by the banks of the
sparkling river of Palestine is in
deed attended with a heterogeneous
conglomeration of unforeseen diffi
culties,”
Factories.
What a Southern Man Saw in
New England, and How it Im
pressed Him.
A Southern man, after having
made a flying trip through the New
England States, comes Pack filled
with astonishment at what he has
seen, and perfectly discouraged with
his own section of country. There
he saw little villages sticking in the
midst of barren uninhabitable
mountains, with no surroundings to
support them, evincing a spirit of
life and prosperity unknown even to
our large towns—the recognized
trade centres of our best agricultu
ral regions. And in the couutry
he saw little farms producing like
first-class English gardens, though
on soil originally too poor to have
grown hear grass, and in situa
tions that a southern man never
would have thought capable of be
ing converted into a goat pasture.
The people all, as a general thing,
seemed contented and prosperous ;
and if he had inquired into thoir
circumstances he would have found
strange as it may appear, every
body in these little villages well off
and making money, and the little
farms, with their stone piles here
and there, and their stones constan
tly working to the surface to be
carried off into other piles, and their
annual calls for fertilizers to the ex
tent of one hundred and fifty dol
lars per acre, actually clearing their
owners from two to three hundred
dollars on every acre inclosed. No
wonder that he is discouraged
when he looks from this picture
upon our favorably located towns
and notes their inactivity, their
poverty and dilapidation, and up,
on our broad and fertile acres, and
reflects that they are really, in very
many instances, not paying the ex
pense of culture.
One would naturally conclude
that there must be some secret con
nected with all this, and so there
is. At the village station the close
observer would notice piles of cot
ton bales, a circumstance calculated
to create no particular interest in
the South, but there, thousands of
miles away from where cotton
could be grown, it would take the
form of a mystery. Stepping out
upon the platform in quest of v
solution, his ears would be greeted
by a sound as of a waterfall having
a peculiar humming accompaniment
spindles. The case would be made
plain —the strange little village
would be recognized as a manufac
turing point, and then ho would
know that we, in a far off section,
were digging its prosperity from
our soil —feeding it into a vigorous
life upon the very food for which
our own towns were starving, and
asking it nothing in return. Act
ually shipping it, our cotton, at our
own expense, and then, in order
that it might grow fat on its busi
ness, buying its fabrics at its own
profitable figures, and paying trans
portation on them to our homes.
Whst a kind-hearted people we
Southerners must be ?
Then for the secret success
among the farmers: Passing
through the country with his eyes
open, the close observer would at
the proper season soon have his at
tention ai rested by an improved
mower sweeping over the meadow
under the exclusive management of
a youth of, say sixteen, and accom
plishing more in a day than could in
that time be wormed out of a dozen
freedman with their scythes. A
little later and he wmald see the
younger brother of the youth driv
ing the field on a “tender,” turning
the hay, and then in due time would
come a stiil smaller boy with a
horse-rake, followed by a trio of lit
tle fellows having all sorts of fun
as they, with a hay-fork, stored
away the crop in the hay loft.
In everything done on the far m
in New England, this same plan is
resorted to. If the soil must be
prepared, instead of setting a dozen
freedmen at it with their mules and
plows, to sweat through a week, as
we would do, out comes a machine
managed by a boy or two, and in
an incredibly short space of time
the job was done, and well done.
A lot of seed is to be sown that
would give our hands a long, tedi
ous task, but then a stripling with
a seed-sower puts it down exactly
right, and in very good order- And
when the crop is ready to be hoed,
instead of charging it with a black
army to play for pay, a boy harness
ses his nag to a horse hoe, takes bis
seat as in a sulky, and rides about
over the field, hoeing several rows
at a time. In short, New England
works by machinery, and therein
l : es the secret of Yaukee prosperity.
She has simply changed places with
us—she owns her labor. If it were
otherwise, or, in different words,
did she have to work on her own
plan, and depend on our kind of
labor, and did we not, in the good
ness of our hearts, give her the
profits on our products, a few years
would find her entirely depopulated
a happy hunting ground upon which
the man might, pitch his wigwam,
never to be disturbed by any en
couragement of civilization.
There is no reason why we in
the South should not own our labor
in the same way, and set our spin
dles going, thus giving prosperity
to our own towns and villages. We
can never be a success till we do it.
Let us think the matter over.—
Morning News.
Working with the Toes.
As cramped and deformed as the
toes of our people are, from the silly
habit of wearing tight boots, we
can hardly realize that the Japan
ese, Chinese artisans, and Bedouin
Arabs are almost quadrumanal, as
from continued practice they use
their toes noarly as their fingers.—
Short and cramped as they are in
our stiff leather shoes, we have
scarcely any will-power over them.
But Chinese and Japanese workmen
actually pick up tools with their
toes, and w ork with them thus han
dled, while other operation? are
conducted with other instruments
in their hands.—We have often
seen chisels held by a long handle
with the left hand, while the toes
guided the cutting edge in turning
beatiful forms in a lathe, in Con
stantinoble. Workmen there are
always seated on the ground, even
in planing a board. Arabs braid
ropes with their toes and fingers
laboring in concert. It is therefore
positively certain the toes may be
educated to act with rapid move
ments. By practice they become
obedient to volition, and yet wise
physiological authors hardly admit
the possibility of theching muscles
to act just as millions of meeeanics
in those distant countries have been
exercising their toes through hun
preds of Asiatic generations. So
much for theoretical science.
Facts anil Scraps.
The bones of birds are hollow,
and filled with air instead of mar
row.
The flea jumps 200 times its own
length, which is equal to a quarter
of a mile for a man.
The knowledge of the arts and
sciences, which is possessed by the
different members of the animal
creation has not unfrequently been
a subject of wonder to naturalists.
Bees are geometricians. Their
cells are so constructed that with
the least quantity of material they
may have the largest spaces and
the least possible loss of interstices.
So also is the ant-lion. His fun
nel-shaped trap is exactly correct in
conformation, as if it had been
formed by the most skillful artist of
our species, with the best instru
ments.
The mole is a meteorologist.
The bird called the kine-killer is
an arithmetician ; so also ave crows,
the wild turkeys and some other
birds.
The torpedo, the ray, and the
electric eel are electricians.
The nautilus is a navigator. He
raises and lowers his sail, and casts
the anchor and other nautical evo
lutions.
The beaver is an architect, build
er and a wood-cutter.
The marmout is a civil engineer.
He not only builds houses, but con
structs aqueducts to keep them dry.
The little while ants maintain a
regular army of soldiers.
The East India ants are horticul
turists. They make mushrooms,
upon which they feed their young.
Energy and Victory. —The
longer I live the more I am certain
that the great difference between
men, between the feeble and the
powerful, the great and the insig
nificant, is energy—invincible de
termination. A purpose once fixed,
and then, death or victory. That
quality will do anything that can
be done in the world ; and no tal
ents, no circumstances, no opportu
nities, will make a two-legged crea
ture a man without it.
—ln every pursuit, whatever
gives strength and energy to the
mind of man, experience teaches to
be favorable to the interest of piety,
knowdedge and virtue; in. every
pursuit, on the contrary, whatever
enfeebles or limits the powers of the
mind, the same experience ever
shows to be hostile to the best in
terest of human life.
An Able Tetter Fro in
Horace Greeley.
His Formal Acceptance of the Dem
mocratic Nomination.
[official]
Neio York, July 23.—Official
notification of Greeley’s nomina
tion at Baltimore ;
Baltimore, July 10, 1872
To Hon. Horace Greele/i :
Dear Sir. —lt is our pleasure, in
compliance with the instructions of
the Democratic, National Conven
tion assembled in this city, to in
form you that you have been unan
imously nominated its candidate
for President of the United States.
The convention, consisting of seven
hundred and thirty-two delegates,
representing every State and Ter
ritory in the Union, adopted without
amendments the declaration of prin
ciples affirmed by the Convention
of Liberal Republicans at Cin
cinnati and strengthened by
the idorsement contained in
your letter of acceptance . The
action of this great body of dele
gates proves that they are, with
singular .unanimity, determined to
enter, under your leadership, upon
the patriotic duty of restoring to
the administration of the govern
ment purity and integrity, and that
independence to its departments
which regards the Constitution as
alika the source and the limit of
of Federal power. Laying aside the
differences of the past, abandon
ing all purpose of mere partisan ad
vantage, asking for no pledge oth
er than that of fidelity to the prin
ciples to which they have given
their deliberate aud resolute adher
ence, and which they believe will
command the approval of a large
majority of the American people,
they tender you their nomination,
confident that peace ahd good gov
ernment will he inaugurated and
maintained under your adminis
tration.
Respectfully yours obediently:
Signed by J. R Doolittle, Chair
man of the Convention at Balti
more, July 10, 1872, and members
of the Committee on Notification.
mr. Greeley’s reply.
New York, July 18, 1872.
Gentlemen : Upon mature de-
I liberation it seems fit that I should
give to your letter of the 10th inst.,
some further and fuller response
than the hasty, unpremeditated
words in which I acknowledged and
and accepted your nomination at
our meeting on the 12th. That
your convention saw fit to accord
its highest honor to one who had
been promptly, pointedly, opposed
to your party in the earnest and an
gry controversies of the last forty
years, and essentially noteworthy
that many of you originally pre
ferred that the Liberal Republi
cans should present another candi
date for Pesident, and would more
readily have united with us in the
support of Adams or Trumbull, Da
vis or Brown. It is well known
that I owe my adoption at Balti
more wholly to the fact that I had
already been nominated at Cincin
nati, and that a concentration of for
ces upon any new ticket had been
proved impracticable. Gratified as
lam at your concurrence in the
Cincinnati nominations, certain as I
am that you would not have thus
concurred had you not deemed me
upright and capable, I find nothing
in the circumstances calculated to
inflame vanity or nourish self con
ceit. But ihat your convention
saw fit in adopting the Cincinnati
ticket- to reaffirm the Cincinnati
platform is to me a source of the
profoundest satisfaction. That body
was constrained to take this impor
tant step by no party necessity; real
or supposed. It might have accep
ted the candidates of the Liberal
Republicans upon grounds entirely
its own, or it might have presented
them as the first Whig National
Convention did Harrison and Tyler
without adopting any platform
whatever. That it choose to plant
itself deliberately, by a vote nearly
unanimous, npon the fullest and
clearest enunciation of theprinples
which are at ouce incontestibly Re
publican and emphatically Dem
ocratic, gives trustworthy assur
ance that anew and more auspi
cious era is dawning upon our long
distracted country. Some of the
best years and best efforts of my
life w T ere devoted to a struggle
against chattle slavery, a struggle
none the less earnest or arduous be
cause respect for constitutional ob
ligations constrained me to act for
the most part on the defensive at a
distance. Throughout most of
those years my vision was cheered,
my exertions were rarely animated
by even so much as a hope that I
should live to see my country peo
pled by freemen alone. The affirm
ance by your convention of Che Cin
cinnati Platform is a most conclu
sive proof that its spirit is extinct;
that despite the protests of a re
spectable but isolated few, there re
mains among us no party and no
formidable interest which regrets
the overthrow or desires the estab
lishment of human bondage wheth
er in letter or in spirit. lam there
fore justified in my hope and trust,
that the first century of American
independence will not close before
the grand elemental truth on which
its rightfulness was based by Jeff
erson and the continental Congress
of ‘76 will no longer be regarded
as glittering generalities, but will
have become the universally accep
ted and honored foundation of our
political fabric. I demand the
prompt aplication of those princi
ples to our existing condition. Hav
ing done what I could for the com
plete emancipation of the blacks, I
now insist on the full enfranchise
ment of all my white countrymen.
Let no one say the bar has just
been removed from all but a few
hundred elderly gentlemen, to
whom eligibility to offico can be of
little consequence. My view con
templates not the hundred pro
scribed, but the millions who arc
denied the right to be ruled and
represented by men of their uttered
choice. Proscription were absurd
if these did not wish to elect the
very men whom they are forbidden
to choose. I have a profound regard
for the people of that New England
wherein I was horn, in whose com
mon schools I was taught. I rank
no other peoploabove them in intelli
gence, capacity and moral worth.
But while they do many things well
and some admirably, there is one
thing which lam sure they can’t
wisely or safely, and thafis the se
lection for States remote from and
unlike their own of the persons by
whom those States shall he repre
sented in Congress. If they could
do this to good purpose, then re
publican institutions were unfit and
aristocracy the only true politicial
system. Yet what have we recent,
ly witnessed ? Z. B. Vauco, the
unquestioned choice of a large ma
jority of the present Legislature of
North Carolina , a majority packed
by a majority of the people who vo
ted at his election, refused the seat
in the Federal Seriate to •which he
was fairly chosen and the Legisla
ture thus constrained to choose an
other in his stead or leave the State
unrepresented for years. The votes
of New England thus deprived
North Carolina of, the Senator of
her choice, and compelled her to
send another in his stead, another
who in onr late contest was, like
Vance , a rebel and a fighting re
bel, but who had not served in Con
gress before the war as Vance had,
though the latter remained faithful
to the Union till after the close of
his term. I protest against the dis
franchisemet of a State, presump
tively of a number of States, on
grounds so narrow and technical as
this. The fact the same Senate
which refused Vance his seat pro
ceeded to remove the disabilites
after that seat had been filled by
another, only serves to place in the
strongest light the indignity to
North Carolina and the arbitray,
capricious tyranny which dictated
it. I thank you, gentlemen, that
my name is to be conspicuously
associated with yours in a deter
mined effort to render amnesty
complete and universal in spirit as
well as in letter. A defeat in such
a cause would leave no sting, while
a triumph would rank it with those
victories which no blood reddens,
and which evoke no tears but those
of gratitude and joy. Gentlemen
your platform, which is also mino
assures me that Democracy is not
henceforth to stand for one thing
and Republicanism for another,
but that there terras are to mean
in politics as they have always
meant in the dictionary, substanti
ally one and the same thing, namely,
equal rights regardless of creed, or
clime, or color. I hail this as a
genuine new departure from out
worn feuds and meaningless con
tentions in the direction of progress
and reform. Whether I shall be
found worthy to bear the standard
of the great Liberal movement
which American people have inau
gurated, is to be determined not by
words but by deeds. With me, if
I steadily advance—over me, if I
falter—this grand army moves to
achieve for our country her glorious
beneficent destiny.
I remain, gentleman , yours
Horace Greeley.
NO 32.
It Might have been.
The following dialogue is suppo*:
ed to hare taken place last summer
at General Grant’s cottage, at long
Branch, after the lamentable sick:
ness of his favorate colt, and alsd
just after the Custom Houae troub
les at New Orleans. It is so mucH
like a phraphase of sceae in MolL
ere’s Tartuffe that we accept its *n
tire correctness under reserve:
But wbdl we come to consider that
the most popular plays are tho*C
which represent moat accurately the
sayings and doing of a real life, end
that truth is, sometimes, et leasts
“stranger than fiction,” we are dis
posed to say with Whittier, in bid
well known lyric of Maud Muller.—i
“It might have been.”
Scene.— A room in the Long
Branch cottage—Gen. Grant seed
dimly through an aromatic mist of
tobacco smoke. On the table near
which lie is seated, and within easy
reach of his hand, a decanter con
taining an amber-colored liquid— el.
no an ioe pitcher and driaking gleM
ses—one of the latter half emptied.
Enter Dent, hastily.
Grant-Well. Dent, what bring*
you from Washington ?
Dent—Bad news.
Grant (anxiously)—ls the 6olfc
worse.
Dent—The colt is doing frell and
unless he should get a touch of
the distemper—
Grant—Poor thing.
Dent—Cassy has made a wretched
bungle of it in New Orleans;
Grant (intorupting)—And the colt 1
Dent—lmproving finely. Ho has
lost some of the hair from his
tail, but otherwise lie—
Grant—Poor thing 1
Dent—That Casey-Packard busi
ness is giving us great annoy
ance. People say—
Grant—And the colt?
Dent—A good deal better since yoif
left. The bran mashes you or
dered scoured him some j
but—
Grant—Poor thing!
Dent—People say that Casey had
no right to make use of the
custom for the Convention.—
That scoundrel Packard—
Grant—And the colt?
Dent—Was exercised this morning.
Took to bis oats heartily, and
whinnied for more. His
tail—
Grant—The poor thing.
Dent—As for Packard you ought
not to have allowed him to
place Gattling guns in front of
the custom house, and put troopfl
in the corridors. There’s a del
egation coming on to see you
about it. Judge Durand-
Gran t—But the colt?
Dent—As lively as a kitten. A tit
tle rough about the the rohts
of the tail from los* of hair j
but then you know how soon—
Grant—The poor thing.
Dent—Warmoth and his people arc
making a deuce of a fuss about
being shut out of the Conven
tion. The delegation is a
strong one, and - will insist on
the dismissal of Casey, and
while • so many rumors are
afloat about the geucral order
business over yonder, you can’t
afford—
Grant (energetically)—l tell you
what it is. Dent, I wouldn’t
have anything happen to that
colt for a thousand dollars.
Here his Excellency threw away
the stump of his cigar, and seizing
the glass half filled with amber fluid
buried his face in it.
[Exit DeNt]
Baltimore Gaze&e,
Use or Lemons.—lt is waif
known that lemons, sprinkled With
loaf sugar, completely allay feverish
thirst, and are therefore invaluable
in a sick-room. Invalids, wifb fe
verishness, can salely consume two
or threo lemons in a day. A lem
on or two thus taken at “ teatime”
is an entire substitute for the ordi
nary supper of summer, and would
give many a man a comfortable
night’s sleep, and an appetite for
breakfast, to which they are stran
gers, who will have their cup of tea,
or supper of “ relish” and “ cake,”,
and berries and cream.
The Smith Family.— We give
place to the following as the only
satisfactory explanation we have
met with concerning the generos
ity with which the w r orld has "been
besprinkled with a certaifi inoffen
ding family:
It has always been a mystery to
us whro all the Smiths came from ;
but ivhile lately visiting a neighbor
ing city, the matter was satisfacto
rily explained by the appearance
of a large sign over the door of a
factory, with the announcement
that this was the.
“SMITH MANUFACTURING 0031PANV.”
