VOL. VI.
THE APPEAL.
FUBLIgHED EVERY FRIDAY,
By J. P. SAWTELL.
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The €liil<l.
UY MKS. PAKK.HU RST.
You ask me why so oft,, father,
The tears poll down my check.
And think it strange that,l should own
A grief I daro not speak ;
But oil, my kml is vfcry sad,
My brain is almost wild';
It breaks my heart to think that I
Am called a drunkard's child
My playmates shun me now, father,
* Or pass me t>y with scorn,
Because my dress is ragged, and
My shoes are old and torn :
And if I liped them hot, "there goes
The drunkard's £ii'l, ! ’they cry,
Oh, then, how ipueli I wish that God
Would only let me die.
You used to love me once, father,
And we had bread to cat ;
Mamma and I were warmly clad;
And life seemed Very sweet.
You never spokb unkindly then.
Or dealt the angry blow.;
• Oh, father dear, ’tis sad to think
That rum hath changed you so.
Do not be angry now, father,
Because I tell you this,
But let me feel upon my brow
Ouec more tby loving kiss ;
And promise me, those lips no more
With di'iuk shall be defiled,
That frdm a life of want and woe
Tbou’lt save thy -.weeping child.
Put it Down.— Young man, why
will you do it ? You cannot afford
to drink. That single glass of
whiskey that you take cost you on
ly twenty-live cents, does it ? Let
us see. It cost your father a shud-.
der. It cost your mother a heart'
ache. It cost you, the loss of your
purity. It digs deep into your
manliness. It cost your young
friend, perhaps, his soul, for he fol
lowed your example It counte
nanced a traffic in human lives and
souls. It dishonored God. It
helped on the field-tide of drunk
enness in which our land is drown
ing. It “put an enemy in your
mouth to steal away your brains.” —
It unfitted you for steady, thought
ful work. It paved the way for
another drink, and that for anoth
er, and that for another still, and
these for numberless others, and all
together will make you a sot, and
. pave your way to a drunkard’s
yave, aud a drunkard’s Hell.
Young man, for God’s sake, for
the sake of everything true and
good, put down that glass.
Slander. —Yes, you pass it along
whether you believe it or not; and
that one-sided whisper against the
character of a virtuous female of an
honorable man, you don’t believe
it, but, you will use your influence
to bear upon false report and pass
Into the current. Strange creatures
are men and women. How many
hearts have been bled by whispers.
How many benevolent deeds have
.been chilled by the shrug of a sboul
.der. How many individuals have
been shunned by a gentle myste
rious hint. How many chaste
bosoms have been wrung with grief
by a single nod. How many graves
have been dug by false reports.
Yet you will keep it above water
hy the wag of your tongue, when
you might sink it forever.- Destroy
the passion for telling. L.sp not a
word that will injure the character
•of another, and as far as you are
concerned, the slander will die.
Neeties made of leather with gill
bucxles, are said to have been pro--
posed as the fashionable novelty
for gentlemen's wear the coming
winter.
CUTHBERT WM APPEAL.
A Cheerful Home.
A single bitter word may disqui
et an entire family for a whole day.
One surly glance casts a gloom
over the household ; while a smile,
like a gleam of sunshine, may light
up the darkest and weariest hours.
Like unexpected flowers which
spring up along our path, full of
freshness, fragrance, and beauty, so
do kind words, and gentle acts, and
sweet dispositions, make glad the
home where peace and blessings
dwell. No matter how humble the
abode, if it be thus garnished with
grace and sweetened with gladness
and smiles, the heart will turn
longingly toward it from all the
tumults of the world, and home, if
it be ever so homely, will be the
dearest spot beneath the circuit of
the sun.
And the influences of home per
petuate, themselves. The ’gentle
grace of the mother lives in her
daughters long after her head is
pillowed in the dust of death ; aud
fatherly kindness finds its echo in
the nobility and courteay of sous
who come to wear his mantle and
to fill his place, while, on the other
hand, from an unhappy, misgov
erned, and disordered home go
forth persons who shall make other
houses miserable, aud perpetuate
the sourness and sadness, the con
tentions and strife, and railings
which have made their own early
lives so wretched and distorted.
Toward the cheerful home the
children gather “as clouds and as
doves to their windows,” while
from the home which is the abode
of discontent, and strife, and troub
le, they go forth as vultures to rend
their prey.
The class of men that disturb,
and disorder, and distress the
world are not those born and nur
tured amid the hallowed influences
of Christian homes;' but rather
.those whose early life has been a
scene of trouble and vexation—who
have started wrong in their pil
grimage, and whoso course is one
of disaster to themselves and troub
lo .to thosp around them.
Go Slow. —Believe in traveling
' on step by step ; don’t expect to be
rich in a jump. Slow and sure is
better than fast and flimsy Perse
verance by its daily gaiu enriches a
man far more than fits and starts of
fortuuato speculation. Little fishes
are sweet. Every day a thread,
makes a skein in a year. Brick by
brick houses are built. We should
creep before we walk, walk before
wo run and run before we ride. In
getting rich, the more haste the
worst speed, llaste trips up its
own heels.
Don’t give up a small business
till you see that a largo one will
pay you better. Even crumbs are
bread. Better a little furniture
than an empty house. In these
hard times, he who can sit ou a
stoue and feed himself had better
not move. From bad to worse is.
poor improvement. A crust is hard
fare, but none at all is harder.—
Don’t jump out of the frying-pan
into the fire. Remember many
men have done well in very small
shops. A little trade with profit is
more desirable than a great con
cern at a loss; a small fire that
warms you is better than a large
fire that burns you. A great deal
of water may be got from a small
pipe, if. the bucket is always there
to catch it. Large hares may be
caught in small woods. A sheep
may get fat in a small meadow,
and starve iu a great desert. He
who undertakes too much succeeds
but little.
Save Youa Dimes. — We say to
all the children, save your dimes.
Don’t cat them. Many children
spend all their dimes for candy or
something of the sort, and then eat
the candy. It amounts to about
the same thing as eating the dimes
Better save them till enough is
gained to buy a good book, then
read the book carefully, and you
benefit your mind, which is equiva
lent to putting the dimes into your
mind, where they will always stay.
A dollar’s worth of knowledge well
stored up is something that will
never leave one and will always be
of service.
AgaiD, save your dimes till you
have enough to invest in some
piece of property, a pig, a sheep, a
calf, a fruit-tree, or something of
the kind. Such property could be
easily made to increase iu Value, so
that in a few years a snug little
property would be acquired. So
save your dimes and use them well.
—Exchange.
A green carleton dress contains
• arsenic enough to kill a man.
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1872.
A Mother’s Control.
There is in many families an im
pression that the boys soon grow
beyond their mother’s control or in
fluence, and that, while it is expect
ed that the girls should still be obe
dient to their mother, the sons
must at a certain age be left to the
control of their father. Thus in
sensibly they imbibe the feeling
that they are above their mother’s
authority. The mother feels that
she has no power to govern them;
the father’s whole mind is engross
ed with other cares, and the boys
are left uncontrolled. This is the
influential cause of the rum ol thou
sands of families.
Probably there is not one who
will read this who can not recall to
mind many illustrations of the truth
of this statement. Here is a son
dying in the forecastle of a ship,
far away upon the ocean. Why is
hfe there, far away from his own
pleasant fireside, and the love of
home ? Because his mother relin
quished her control over her dar
ling- boy. Here is a mutilated
corpse upon the battle field. The
form is that of a graceful youth,
whose fair cheek is hardly browned
by the scorching sun. Why has
this young man plunged into the
bull-dog scenes of human butchery,
and come to this untimely end? It
is because bis mother did not try to
retain that influence which only a
mother can exert.
The idea is a totally erroneous
one, that a son by nature feels that
there is any inferiority in a woman,
and that it is not manly to obey his
mother. The natural feeling is
just the reverse, and a judicious
mother can retain control ovei a
§on as long as she can over a daugh
ter ; indeed, a well educated young
man feels a peculiar pride in being
obedient to his mother. There is a
chivalrous feeling, a sense iff honor,
connected with such submission,
which is highly pleasurable to every
ingenious mind, Napoleon, who
was one ol the keenest of observers,
attributed the formation of his
character to his mother’s influence.
“ The man,” said he, “is what
his mother makes him.”
The memories of Wesley—who
has perhaps exerted as powerful, an
influence as any other man upon
the destinies of the world—are till
ed with' illustrations of this contin
ued influence, of a mother guiding
her apostolical son in all the con
flicts of his laborious and glorious
career.
Read the letters of the mother of
John Quincy Adams, and you will
bo at no loss to account for the in
vincible moral courage, the unvary
ing principle; and the almost super
human energy which have shed
such lustre \ipou his life. Before
her noble mind he was ever proud
to bow in homage. He was always,
even, in his-most exalted manhood,
his mother’s child, ever prompt to
do her bidding, and ever feeling
himself honored in honoring her.
In fact every young man wants to
be proud of his mother. He loves to
feel under her control. He delights
in having a motlibr who is truly ca
pable of guiding him. Aud she
who virtually abandons the govern
ment of her boy just as he is enter
ing upon the fiery temptations of
impetuous youth, inflicts upon him
an injury, and is almost unpardona
bly traitorous to her sacred trust.
Get the entire control of your child
in the earliest period of infancy.—
Hold to that control bj affection,
and firmness, and decision, as years
glide along, and your son will love
you, and by his virtues bless you
while you live, and adore your
memory when you are sleeping in
the dust.
And this should also be kept in
view by every mother in the educa
tion of her daughter. She is to be
trained up to be a wife and a moth
er. If she has a weak mind and
a frivolous education, and has been
prepared merely to shine, while in
her teens, in the circles of pleasure,
and ostentation, and fashion, what
will become of her when her chil
dren gather around her knee, and
her son, growing into vigorous boy-'
hood, with an energetic mind, is
looking to her for intellectual guid
ance ? He feels ashamed of his
mother! He is mortified at the
indications of her inferiority, and
is thus often led to feel that woman
is but a weak animal, who was nev
er intended to be an intellectual
companion for man.
—IE you want to have a man
your friend, don’t get the ill-will of
his wife. Public opinion is made
up of the average prejudices of wo
mankind.-
A Bad Practice.
One of the most reprehensible
features of modern journalism, says
the Baltimore Methodist, is that
which has begun to characterize the
weekly press in some of the large
cities, of giving publicity to social
gatherings of ladies and gentlemen,
describing the personal appearance
and characteristics of those present,
as well as of others in society, and
even mentioning the probability of
the marriage of certain ladies to
certain gentlemen. . This indecent
ahd disgusting practice was begun
by the New York Herald and now
has its imitators, we are sorry to
say,, in various parts of the country.
The Washington Capitol and some
of the Baltimore weeklies come out
every Saturday with this personal
gossip, which is no doubt found
more likely to pay than §mything
else in their columns. There are
males and females in the world silly
and shallow enough to bo pleased
-with suck notoriety, and consider
it a feather in their cap. But to
people of sense aud refinement the
whole thing is simply revolting.—
The press ought to have something
better to do than this. If it can
only live by pondering to the ab
surdities of the weak and vain, and
demoralizing society, it had better
not live at all. There is little
enough left, at best, of the seclu
sion and sacredness of home life,
in this country, and there will be
none at all" when the coarse and in
delicate practice referred t© be
comes general. If “ Young Amer
ica” of both sexds is to be trained
up under such influences, society,
in the generation, may be expected
to exist with as little freedom from
inspection and observation as the
American Indians, and with scarce
ly a fig leaf to cover its nakedness.
That invaluable jewel of female
character, modesty, will be as much
improved as it was.whemthe shame
less literature and drama of Eng
land were blighting all within reach
of their baleful influence.
Pay as You Go !—Tne habit of
•running in debt is one of the dev
il’s ingenious arrangements to tempt
people to -ruin by living beyond
their means.' Many ladies pride
themselves on running up large
bills at fashionable stores. The
fact that pay-day comes round oft
en enough to keep their husbands
cross, and perplexed to raise funds,
is a little cloud too often ignored.
It seems a thankless task to pay for
a suit of clothes after they afe
worn threadbare and out at the el
bow. Debts of gratitude are much
pleasanter ones to cancel, if people
only knew it, but few do.
—Last week a lady iu Lexington
liy., received the following choice
billetdonx : “I saw you at shurtch
last Sunday nite, and I want to form
with you an Acquanetans. lam a
man of good karicter, and get a
celery of SSOO per anum. Please
address poost ofis.” The young la
day returned this reply : “To the
Young Man with the Bad Spell
The wish to form an acquaintance
is not reciprocal. But if you call
at my.house about six o’clock in
the evening, ray brother will make
your acquaintance with some first
class calf-skin. Perhaps you would
prefer making the acquaintance of
our dog. He will take to you nat.
urally. He always had a taste for
calves.”
Genuine Fools. —He who wipes
bis nose on a nutmeg grater, and
picks his teeth with a razor. •
She who says “no” to a propo
sal of a gentleman when she has
reached thirty.
He who gets so drunk at night,
that he puts his clothes to bed, and
hangs himself ou the back of a
chair.
She who rubs her cheeks with
brick bats in order to give them
color.
She who pinches and slaps a
child to make it quit bawling.
A Detroiter lost a pocket
book with seven cants in it, and
went daily to the police station for
a week to learn if any tidings bad
come of it. Finally the sergeant,
tired of his questionings, gave him
seven cents, which he received
thanufully, remarking: “I tell
you it made me feel bad, as I saw
the poor house looming np before
_ ?>
roe.
—A wealthy, but miserly old man
-dining in London one day with his
son at a restaurant, whispered in his
ear, “Tom, you must eat for to-day
hnd to-morrow.” “Oh, yes,” retort
ed the half starved lad, “but I
havn’t eaten for yesterday and day
before yet, father!”
Curiosities of Lift/
Lay your fingure on your pulse,
and know that every stroke some
immortal passes to its maker ; some
fellow being crosses the river of
death; and if we think of it we may
well wonder that it should be so
long before our time comes.
Half of all who live, die before
they are seventeen.
Only one person in ten thousand
lives to be one hundred years old,
and but one in a hundred reaches
sixty.
The married men live longer than
the single.
There is one soldier to every eight
persons, and out of every thousand
born, only ninety-five weddings take
placd.
If you take a thousand’ persons
that are seventy years of age, there
are of orators, clergymen and pub
lic speakers, 43 ; farmers 40; work
men 33 ; soldiers 32 ; lawyers 20;
professors 27, and doctors 24.
These statements .are very in
structive. Farmers aud workmen
do not arrive at good old age as
often as the clergymen and others
who perform no manual Tabor ; but
this is owing to the neglect of the
law of health, inattention to proper
habits in life, in eating, drinking,
sleeping, dress, and the proper care
of themselves after the days work is
done. These farmers eat a heavy
supper of a summer day and sit
around the doors in their shirt
sleeves, and in their tired condition
and weakened circulation, are easily
chilled, laying the foundation for
diarrhoea, lung fever or consumpi
tion.
—An Indiana editor lays down
his shears for a few minutes to
write, a double-leaded editorial, in
which he plaintively remarks:
“We are the recipant of half a peck
of nice onions, two watermelons,
and a bottle of ginger beer from one
of our subscribers. The gifts were
like the shadow of a rock in a wea
ry land. We are gald someone re
membered us in the midst of our
labors and cares, and evinced that
remembrance in so delicate a man
ner. We dote on onions and love
melons dearly ; and so long as the
fragrance of the former and the
gripes of the latter linger about us,
we shall hold thejkind donor in af
fectionate remembrance. Os gin
ger beer, we have never been able
to speak enthusiastically, but may
say that our children enjoyed it
greatly while the empty bottle ad
ded not a little to the effective force
of our office armory. These little
acts inspire us to renewed exertions
but our subscription price will re
main the same.”
Female Society. —What is it
thart, makes all those men who asso
ciate habitually with woman supe
rior to those who do not ? What
makes that woman who is accus
tomed and at ease in the society of
men, superior to her sex in gener
al? Solely because they are in the
habit of free graceful, continued
conversation with the other sex.—
Women in this way lose their friv
olty, their faculties awaken, their
delicacies and peculiarities unfold
all their beauty and captivation in
the spirit of rivalry. And the men
lose their pedantic, rude, declama
tory, or sullen manner. The coin
of the understanding and the heart
changes continually. Their asper
ities. are off, their better natures
polished aud brightened, and their
richness, like gold is wrought into
finer workmanship by the fingers
of woman than it ever could be by
those of men. The iron and steel
on their characters are hidden, like
the character and armor of a giant,
by etuis and knots of good and
precious stones, when they are not
wanted in actual warfare.
Being Sociable. —Some people
display a wonderful tact for unsoci'
ability. It is not so much by their
silence, their modesty or their re
serve, as by a peculiar disposition
they manifest—an indefinable at
mosphere in which they envelope
themselves, so as to. repel the ad
vances and resist the invitations of
others.
Siephen Girard’s Rule. —I
have always considered advertising,
liberally and long, to be the great
medium of success in business and
a prelude to wealth. And I have
made it an invariable rule, too, to
advertise in the dullest times, long
experience having taught me that
money thus spent is well laid out;
as, by keeping my business contin
ually before the public, it has se
cured me many sales I would oth
erwise have lost.-
Keep Straight Aliead.
Pay no attention to slanderers
and gossip-mongers. Keep straight
on in your course, and let their
backbiting die the death of neglect.
What is the use of lying awake
nights brooding over the remark of
some false friend, that runs through
your brain like forked lightning ?
What’s the use of getting into a
worry and fret over gossip that
has been set afloat to your disad
vantage, by some meddlesome bus
ybody, who has more time than
character. These things can’t pos
sibly injure you, unless, indeed,
you take notice of them, and, in
combating them, give them stand
ing and character. If what is said
about you is true, set yourself right
at once ; if it is false, let it go for
what it will fetch. If a bee stiDgs
you, would you go to the hive and
destroy it ? Would not a thousand
come upon you ? It is wisdom to
say little respecting the injuries you
have received. We ere generally
losers in the end, if we atop to r*
fute aU the backbitings and goa*
sipings we may hear by the way.
They are annoying, it is true, but
not dangerous so long as we do not
expostulate and scold. Our char
acters are formed and sustained by
ourselves,, and by our own actious
and purposes, and not by others.—
Let us always bear in mind that
“calumniators may usually be trust
ed to time and the slow but steady
justice of public opinion.”'
Fashion (*ossip.
Our lady readers will soon
begin to think about their fall bon
nets, and the following, from the
gossip column of the Hartford
Times will therefore interest them
all: *
The earliest importations of fall
millinery have arrived. New bon
nets retain the high front and sloop
iug crown of last season. Many
frames have heavy rolling coronets.
In their trimming strange combina
tions of color appear, such as reseda
with blue, dark sage green with
pink, and bronze with tea rose.
Pale sky blue is used with dark
sapphire blue and with very dark
shades of various colors. The tur
quoise silk introduced last spring—
a soft, lusterless fabric—is largely
imported in the pew dark tints. It
is shown in olive, bronze and pea
cock shades; in verti de gris , sage
and tea colors ; Moselle, anew soft
blue ; and in a delicate, pink-pearl
shade that is new and very lovely.
Turquoise silk will be Used for trim
ming principally, but bonnets will
also be made of it and trimmed
with velvet. Pattern bonnets have
such quantities of trimming that the
material with which the frame is
covered is almost entirely concealed.
Flowers, feathers and jet ornaments
appear on each bonnet. Ostrich
plumes are long and very much curl
ed ; Jfanciful feathers and sharply
pointed wings are colored to display
two or three of the new tints in con
trasting shades. Many jet band
eaux are imported. Round hats
present a variety of shades, some
of which are very eccentric. We
have mentioned the Parisian fancy
for broadbrimed sailor hats worn
far back on the head. This caprice
it is said, will appear here in the au
tumn.
Evening,
Much of our lifetime is composed
of the evening hours, which may, if
We choose, become the. pleasantest,
most profitable part of our lives.—
’Tis then we gather around the home
circle, and enjoy, uninterruptedly,
the society of father, mother, broth
ers and sisters, or receive the social
call of friends, devoting the evening
hours to rational enjoyments pleas
ant convene, readings, musie and
song.
Here in the twilight hours, in each
a pure social atmosphereic, among
friends of sympathy and affection,
true happiness may be secured.
Evenings spent thus exert an in
fluence for good over our lives,
which is felt even until the shadows
of our closing days fall upon us.—
How many young men have pander
ed from truth, temperence, honesty
and respectabity, simply because
the evenings of their youth where
misspent. When the hours of dark
ness are falling around »s, and the
day gone never to be recalled, ’tis
then we should find our pleasantest
hours, our best and purest pleasures,
our most noble and inspiring ambi
tions. Then strive to make “Home
the dearest spot on earth.”
—An old man, ninety five years
of age, having moved frofn Ver
mont to Kansas, was asked his rea
son for doing so. “Well,” said he,
earnestly, “I’ve lived in Vermont
now nfigh on to a hundred years,
and I rather think the climate is
bad for my constitution, and so I
thought I’d come out here, where
I’d stand a chance to live to a re
spectable old age.” i
Ao Sabbath.
In a prize cassv on the Sabbath,
written by a journey man printer in
Scotland, which for singular power
of language and beauty of expres
sion, has never been surpassed,there
occurs the following passage.
Read it; and then reflect for a while
what a dreary nnd desolate page
would this life present if the Sab
bath were blotted out from our cal
culation :
“Yokefellow 1 think how the ab
straction of the Sabbilth would hope
lessly" enslave the working classes,
with whom we are identified.
Think of labor thus going on in
one monotonous and eternal cyle,
limbs forever on the rack, the fin
ger forever straining, the brow for
ever sweating, the feet forever plod
ing, the brain forever throbbing,
the shoulders forever drooping, the
loins forever aching, the restless
mind forever scheming.
‘‘Think of the beauty it would
efface, the merry-heartedness it
would extinguish, of the giant
strength it would tame, of the re
sources of nature it would crush,
of the sickness it would breed, of
the projects it would wreck, of the
groans it would -extort, of the lives
it-would immolate,‘and of thecheer
less graves it would prematurely
dig ? See them toiling and moil
ing, sweating and fretting, grinding
and hewing, weaving and spinning
sewing and gathering, mowing and
reaping, raising and building, dig
ging And planting,striving and strug
gling—in the garden and in the field,
in the granary and in the barn,in the
factory and in the warehouse and in
the shop, on the mountain and in
the ditch, on the roadside and in
the wood, in the city and in the
country, on the sea and on the
shore, the days of brightness and
of gloom. What a picture would
the world present if we had no Sab
bath.
Sir Toby reports the ease of
a good little boy, whose parents en
couraged the habit of early retiring
by permitting him to take cake to
bed with him. One evening he as
tonished his affectionate mother by
the following prayer:
“ Now I lay me down to sleep,
• I pray the Lord my soul to keep ;
If I *kou!d die before I wake,
Give sister Jane my piece of cake.”
Manners, says the eloquent Ed
mond Burke, are of more impor
tance than laws. Upon them, in a
measure, the law depends. The
law cannot touch us here aud there,
now and then. Manners are what
yex or soothe, exalt or debase, by
a steady, uniform insensible opera
tion. They give their whole color
and form to our lives. According
to their quality they aid morals;
they supply them, or they totally
destroy them.
Not a tempest sweeps through
the earth that is not needful; not a
trouble breaks hpon the human
heart that is not necessary. If so,
let us take heart and rejoice that
we are in the road that leads up
ward to God, that we bear the sig
nature of his children, and if chil
dren then, heirs of God, and joint
heirs with Christ.
“La me 1” said Mrs. Partington,
“here I have been suffering for
three mortal weeks. Frst I was
seized with a bleeding phrenology
in the left hampshire of the brain,
which was exceeded by a stoppage
of the left ventilator of the heart.
This gave me an inflammation of
of the borax, and now I’m sick with
chloroform morbus. There is no
bleesin, like that of health, partic
ularly when you are ill.”
A man who passes through
life without marrying is like a fair
mansion left by the builder unfin
ished. The half that is completed
runs to decay from neglect, or be
comes at best bat a sorry tenement,
wanting the addition of that which
makes the whole useftil.
A quarrelsome couple were
discussing the subject of epitaphs
and tombstones, and the husband
said : “My dear,' what kind of a
stone do yon think they will give
me when I die?” * Brimstone,
my love,” was the affectionate re-
P 1- w<
- A young man asked a young
lady her age and she replied: “ Six
times seven and seven times three
added to my age will exceed six
times nine and four, as double my
age exceeds twenty.” The young
man said he thought she looked
much older.
There are many people who not
only believe that this world re
volves on its axis, but they believe
that they flip ?r* a -
NO 39*
Where Thoughts Come
From.
The humau miud is like a ponder
ous engine. A small point of iron
at a switch will turn it to the right
or left—seffding it on its preper
course, or perchance causing to go'
over an embankment or into another
train, crushing both in shapeless'
destruction. The sight of some ob
ject, or a word spoken or read, will
give one’s train of thougbt a new
direction, or some direction quite
different from what it would other
wise have taken. Upon iery small
things depend all of one’s future
course in life. Parents, teachers,
guardians, in fact, every one, may
well ponder this. We are all influ
encing each other, giving direction
to thought, every day every hour
every moment.
A family read a journal for ayeaf
and at the end of that lime do noi
recall any particular advantage
therefrom —but how many new
channels of thought have they been
led into by what they have read.—
Hovtf many plane have insensibly
and indirectly come from what they
could have read. How much of
vacancy there would be if they blot
entirely from thfeir minds all the
information they have gained, and
all the new ideas and plans of their
ofrn, suggested only, and indirectly
at that, by what they have read du
ring’the year. The truth is, one
cannot read and think too muck
about his daily labor. If he gets
not one postive piece of useful in
formation, the thinking developed
by readiug other men’s views and
ideas can but be useful in reasoning
to intelligent labor—that labor itr
which his head aids his hands. La
bor without intelligence is mere
brute muscle in exercise.
—“Have you the Exile of Sibe
ria here ?” asked a lady a few days
since, of a clerk in a bookstore.
“No, ma’am,”- was the answer ?
“haint got no egg’s ile, but we’ve
got a prime article of bar’s ile, if
that will answer.’'. «
w : •
I would say to all yonng men/
marry your second wife first, and
keep out of debt by all means, even
if you have to borrow the money
do iL—[Twain.
“ Gentlemen of the j ury,”
charged a western judge, “in this
case, counsel on both sides are in
credible, and the plaintiff de
fendant are both such characters
that to me # is indifferent which
way you give a verdict.”
“What shall we name our little
boy ?” said a young wife to her
husband.* 1 Call him Peter.” Oh
no, I never knew anybody named
Peter that could earn bis salt.
“Well call him Salt Peter, then.”
Some of tfye Western newspapers
are establishing buzz saws in their
editorial departments. These de
structive instruments are intended
for the fiend in bumfan shape who'
drops in regularly to wrestle with
exchanges.
Mrs. Clark, who edits a newspa
per at Sacramento, goes for Train'
for President, and excitedly ex
claims: “Never mind platforms.
We want a man !”
An artesian Well in Lincoln,*
Neb., is so magic that it will draw
a tin cup toward it. That’s nothing/
though, for a Small black bottle will
often draw a whole crowd toward it."
—"I am speakibg,” said a long
winded orator, “for the benefit of
posterity.” “ Yes,” said one of his
hearers, “ and if you keep'ob much
longer your audience will be here.”
—Ui
A grocer, when complained to'
about the quality of his eggs, ex
cused himself by saying, “ At this'
time of the year the bens are not
well, and often lay bad ones.”
The man who never told an
editor how he could better his pa
per, has gone out West to marry
the woman that never looked into a’
looking-glass.
“How wonderful,” exclaims
Some unknown philosopher, “are
the laws governing human exis
tence ! Were it not for tight-lacing
all civilized countries would be over
run with women.”
The Senatorial Convention of the
12 th District, composed of Quit
man, Webstet and Stewart coun
ties, met last week i n Lumpkin/
decided that Stewart was entitled
to the nomination, and nominated
Dr. J. E. Carter as Senator. His
principal opponent was Mr. J- K.’
Larnum. Nomination made unaer-'
raous.
