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VOL. VI. THE APPEAL. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY, By J. P. SAWTEIX. Terms of Subscription.: One Year. ...$3 00 | Six Months.... s2 00 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE, ar No attention paid to orders for tlie pa per Uu'ess accompanied by the Cash. Rates of Advertising. 12 Months 6 Months. 3 Months. 1 Month. No.. Sqr's. 17777$ 3.00 i 6.00 $ 9.00 $ 12.00 2 5.00 12.00 16t00 20.00 3 7.00 15.00: 22.00 27.50 4 -8.00 17.00: 25.00 33.00 i c 9.00 22 00 30.00 45.00 \ c 17.00 35.00 50.00 75.00 1 c 30.00 50.00 75.00 125.00 2 c 50.00 75.00 One square, (ten lines or less,) $1 00 for the tirst and 75. cents for each subsequent inser tion. A liberal deduction made to parties who advertise by the year. Persons sendiim ad vertisements should mark the number of times they desire them inser ted, or they wilhbe continued until forbid ahd "harmed accordingly. Transient advertisements must be paid for Itt the time of insertion. If nbt paid for before the expiration Os the time advertised, 25 per cent, additional will be charged. Announcing names of candidates for office, $5.00. Cash, in all cases. Obituary notices over five lines, charged at regular advertising rides. All communications intended to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, So cieties, or individuals, will be charged as ad vertisements. Job Work, such as Pamphlets, Circulars, Cards, Blanks, Handbills, etc., will be execu ted in good style and at reasonable rates. AH letters addressed to the Proprietor will *>• promptly attended to. 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.”