Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-????, January 03, 1873, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

* 1 - - - VOL. VII. THE APPEAL. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY, By J. P. SAWTELL. Terms of Subscription.: Oki Year... $2 00 | Six Months....sl 25 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE, r w No attention paid to ordcrn for the pa per v u'ess accompanied by the Cash. Riitcsof Advertising. 12 Monti* 6 Month. 5. j S^Kontha. rr— LMoßth. No. Sqr's. 1 $ 3.00$ 6.00 $ 9.00 $ 12.00 2 5.00 12.00; 16.00 20.00 3 7.00 15:6c -2*2.00 27.50 T.V.. 8.00 17.00 25.00 33.00 £ c 9.00 22 00 30,00 45.00 |(S 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 aqiiareJlten line/I or less,) $1 00 for the .irst and 75 cents for each subsequent inser tion. A liberal deduction made to,parties who advertise by the year- Persons sending ad vertisementg should mark the number of times lliev desire them inser ted, or they rvill.be continued until forbid and -harged accordingly. Transient advertisements must be - paid for »t the time of insertion. If not paid for before the expiration of the time advertised, 25 per cent, additional will he charged. Announcing names of candidates for office, $5.00. Cash, in all eases Obituary, notices over live lines, charged at regular advertising ra*es. All communications intended to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, So cieties, or individuals, will be charged as ad vertisements. Jon Work, Such as Pamphlets, Circulars, Cards, Blanks, Handbills, etc., will lie execu ted in good slyle and at reasonable rates. All letters addressed to the Proprietor wil' be promptly attended to. XVrtst Oike Another. Look into your brother's eyes, man, ■And bid him read your own ; One half (ho si rife of human life Is born of guile alone! Deceit creates full half our bates, And half our loVc it slays Look in eaoh other’s eyes, man, And meet each other's gaze. I’ardqn your brother’s faults, man, And ask that ho fo’rgiv, Colnld -human sin no pardon win, s*o mortal soul might live. No need of Heaven.were none forgiven. For none would reach its doors : Pardon your brother’s faults,‘man And bid him pardon yours. Feel for your brother’s grief, man, No 1 ierfrt is saleTmni wo, Though- lips and eyes full oft deny, •The sorrowing weight below, A gentle \v4fo, a pitying smile. May sweetest balm impart. Feel for your brother's grief, man, And may you win his heart. Stand by your brother’s side, man, And bid him clasp your band, ro’liim be just and yield the (rust That you from him demand. How simply wise, with soul and eyes, To trust and still be true Do to tbos</we love mar, ~ What we would have them do. A Beautiful Exper^kxt.—The following beautiful chemical expo r.ment may be easily performed by a lady, to the great astonishment of a circle at her tea party : Take two , cr three leaves of red cabbage, cut fie.m into small bits, put them into i basin, an.d pour a pint ot boiling water on them ; let it stand an hour, Jien pour it off into. a decanter. It will be a finefelue color. Then take four wine glasses; into one put six drops of strong vinegar; into an other six drops of solution of Soda; nto the third a strong solution of alum, and let the fourth remain em pty-. The glasses may be prepared some time before, and the few drops of colorless liquid that have been placed in them will*nOt be- noticed. Fill up the glasses from the decan 'ter, and the liquid poured into the -glass containing the acid will be come a beautiful red ; the glass con taining the soda will become a fine green; that poured into the empty one will . remain unchanged. By adding a little" vinegar to the green It will immediately change to a led, and on adding a little solution of Soda to-the red it will assume a fine green, thus showing the action of RCids and alkalies on vegetable blues. Grief.—Oh, grief ! thou art class, fed amongst the depressing passions. And true it is, that thou humblest to the dust, but also thou exaltesf to the clouds. Thou ehakest as with ague, but also thou steadiest like frost. Thou sickenest the heart, but also thou healest it’s infirmities. — ■ 4»» : . Thirty persons were recently pois. oned at Coral, Michigaj), by eating Sausages. That’s what comes of leaving the brass collars on dogs. From the Augusta CoptiUition (list: The Fence CfcuesfWii. The-fence question has long been agitated in agricultural periodicals and by State Legislatures. That it is a matter of great importance can not be denied. The great mistake seems to be:that fences are built t° keep out, instead of keeping in stock. In several States a change in this re spect has lately been made by law. In these States the penalty of pay ing daina'ges wlterg cattle are killed by railroad trains is cast upon the owners of the animals instead of up on the companies. The reason giv en for this change in the law is very sensible, viz: that railroad compa nies and the traveling .public suffer’ far more by the detention of anc( in jury to trains by the running qver and collisions with cattle on the track, than the farmers do by the loss ot the stock. Nor, say the fra mers of the law, is this all, for hu-' man life itself is endangered by cat tle being suffered to wander about upon railroad tracks upon which trains, loaded with passengers, are constantly running. The Atlanta Limitation, for De cember, prints a valuable article on the Fence Question, front the pen of Rev. C. W. Howard. Mr. Howard in October last, addressed certain inquirice/to the Presidents'of the several railways ■in • Georgia, upon the aiqouot of their losses undeu the head of stock killed. The answers disclose the fact, that the annual' reel:.mations from these roads, by owners of stock running at large aggregate to about seventy thousand dollars. To this amount is to be added "losses from accident to the trains in running over them, and the injuries sustained by passengers and Lain officers and. hands. . tinder the first item, the Georgia Road alone paid for the year ending with last April $11,278 30 ; and one cold, stormy, dark night, last winter, had a.train wrecked and some of the passengers hurt—one of them fatally—run ning over the working seers of a' neighbor!mg farmer, (so called,) who had rewarded his cattle for a days labor by turning them out doors on such a night to brows on the lit tle dead and withered herbage they could find ou a December night Thus, instead of being punished for cruelty to life cattle, and for jeop ardizing human lives on an express train, he got an exorbitant price for his steers, the railway pocketed a heav-y loss and the passengers accep ted their danger and sufferings with out renio n'strsfnce. Mr. II ’Ward sums up his long and able article as follows: The evil effect of the present fence law may be thus summed U P : '•.' ' 1. It causes a hazard of human lifg upon our railroads. 2. It impedes business, by imped ing the speed-of railroad trains. 3. It imposes >t lax of more than. SIOO,OOO annually upon the railroad and (hrough them upon the people of Georgia, who, in the end pay it. 4. It causes a large aica of land in the older counties to be thrown out, to grow up in briers and use less bushes* In those counties there is not timber enough to refence the plantations, and where there is, the negroes will not split the rails. 5. It thus greatly diminishes the taxable property of the State, inas much as thousands of acres of .land now useless would be brought into piofilable cultivation, if it were not for the necessity of refencing them. G. The fence tax which the land:- holder pays is ten fold the amount of all the other taxes paid by him. 7. The moral effect of the present fence law is bad, as it promotes ani‘ mosaics and litigation among the neighbors from the necessarily im perfect way in which it is carried, out. A lawful fence is of rare oc curence in the olderTounties. 8. The repeal -of the fence law would libeiate an incredible amount of life and energy amotig farmers from the depression caused their inability to work their own lands for want of fencing material. CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, F.RIDAY, JANUARY 3, 1873. 9. While the number of our live stock might be diminished by the repeal of the fence law, (though that is problematic), its character and value w'ould be improved. It.is al most impossible to improve live stock where inferior male cattle, hogs or sheep run at largo. A tri lling animal may be turned out to live or.die as it may happen; but it is only a valuable animal of its kind that the farmer, would take the pains to keep in an inclosed pas ture. 10. One of the most rapid, and at the same time economical methods of improving land, is to allow its natural growth to fall upon it and decay. Under the existing fence law, when a piece of ground is turn ed out it becomes the grazing ground for the neighborhood. Every valu able planx is eaten out; the grasses are killed and it becomes occupied by useless: busbar, which impover ish rather than enrich the soil. This grazing is legalized theft upon the property of the land-holder 1,1. The existing fence law is un constitutional, as it embarasses the property-holder in the peacublo use of his own properly. These eleven points are capable of abundant argume»iLa4»d illustra lion. They are pfeented in lids explicit form to be amplified byofelt ers. - The writer doe% not pretend, to offer a law whichfully- meet the emergency. Tfife fttfhjerit' is not without difficulties'. No law Can he framed which will nbt bear hardly upon some person. Butwe certain ly have legal minds who'can devise some’means by which the •,present intolerable burden may be lighten ed. - The fence law, so far as it relates to the railroads, we are informed by Major. Screven, was made the sub ject of a printed report to tho Legi slature in 1869. A bill passed the last. Legislature granting certain privileges to several counties, which was the begijiing of legislation in the right direction, but which is said to be defective in its details and limited in its scope. The wri ter, thus far, has been unable to pro cure a copy of either the report or the bill. As the proprietors of the- Plantation are within easy reach of these documents, they would do good by the publication of both of them. Practically, this fencing in the Stock and.turning out the crops is found to work well. In large por lions of the European continent, this is the practice. In fact, it would be impossible to fence in the crops. A fence law like our own would depopulate a large portion of Europe, as it must before long de populate the cider portions of Geor gia. . . . -• ' As this is a subject of common importance to the railroads and to the land holders, and these are the two commanding interests of t~e State, the writer ventures, respect, fully, to suggest a conference be tween the authorities of the State Agricultural Society and the i ail roads. Such a conference might restdt in (he framing of a bill which would be acceptable to the Legisla ture and relieve the people from the burdens of the present fence law. C. W. Howard. Test of Cuaiucter.—We may judge of a man’s character by what he loves, as readily as by his asso ciates. If a person is wed to low and sordid objects —if he takes de light in that backanalian revel, the vulgar song and.debasing language —wb can at once tell the complex ion of his mind. On the contrary, if lia is found in the society of the good—if he loves purity and truth —we are satisfied that he is an up right man. A mind debased will not be found in a holy assembly, nor among the wise and good. He whose affections are encircled by goodness, Seeks not bis gratification at the haunts of vice. There is this difference between happiness and wisdpm; he that thinks himself the happiest man, re ally is so, but he thinks'himself the wisest-man, is generally the greaest fool. Health. Health is the foundation of all individual and national happiness and prosperity, moral,- socil, mental and material. \Vithout it, the labor of the brain, the heart and arm is in vain. .The bruit? -is. weakened and bewildered by sickness, the arms crippled, paralyzed, aud. the heart becomes liarlened and selfish, and ceases to burn with the noblest of virtues—pity and sympathy for the poor and ignorant, and charity for the weak and sinning. In view of the essential importance of health to both our temporal and eternal destiny; it is strange how it is neg lected and wantonly and criminally abused. ..We are probably the most sickly and short-lived civilized nation on the globe. This is the more singu lar when we relict that our skies are bright, our soil productive and our population scattered and r.mall in number. In Asia and Europe where the air is poison, food scarce, and the masses are crowded in filthy garrets and huts, exposed to the heat of summer aud the ice of winter, ragged and without medicines, no wonder that-man is of tew days, his life full of sickness and misery. It slianld be fnr different here where no tropic sun scorches with its kiss .aud no polar snows freeze the blood 'astt goes sluggishly through the veins. Our afflictions spring not from the ground or from the skies —our blessings - are turned ihto curses, not by God, but ourselves. No stranger hand strikes the deadly blow-. We are our own execution ers. Wo cease to enjoy when we abuse, and our very liberty rivets the most crushing and burning chains upon our limbs. Weexhaust. vitality enough in a few nights of dissipation and few days of frantic struggle for wealth, fame and pow er than a European would do year: and this too, when we speak the language, read the literature, study the laws and worship the God of a bravo and hardy race whose flag lias been borne in thunder and triumph on every land and sea. ■ • The causes of our bad heallh as individuals and as a people, lie deep hid. in the domestic manners and customs of our country.' They or. iginale in our amusements; our dress; our abase of the natural laws of health and then a resort to quack cures j our haste for riches ; our food and its preparation, and in.tbe general want of system and adapta tion to a single trade, profession, labor and pursuit. We have only time and space .to refer to one of the many causes which influence and slimlate our ill-health and pre mature deaths. ... We live too fast. We eat, sleep, play and work in confusion and * We swallow, not chew, our frequently badly cooked food with out that best aid to digestion—cheer ful conversation. We believe an ounce of preventation is better than a pound of cure and that all the Doctors in the world can -never bring back health once lost by dissi pation, exposure and gluttony. If we bad the power exercised by the President, we would found, a cook, ing-cojlege to be conducted by Pro fessors in strict subordination to the principles of chemical science, and make It death without benea l of clergy for a man to wear a dirty shirt longer than a month ; to sleep a week in a bog hole without food or fire; loose a minute in eating and conversational the table and not whistle and doff his hat and. place it on one side in the company of ladies —and never care a dur-n. Great is Radicalism and such Chesterfields are its prophets. The editor ot one of our ex changes has just had his family re inforced, and'makes the following remarks : JJiug out wild bells—anrl tame ones toe — Ring out the lovt'r’s moon, Ring out the little slips and socls, Ring in the bib and spoon ; Ring out the muse, ring in the nurse, • Ring in the milk and water, Away with paper, pens and ink— . My daughter, oh, roy daughter. -When women are’ iu arms they never oppose the liberty of the press. Hill Arp oil Freedom. Fra’hot rekonsiled. I thought I was, but I ain’t- I’ve been irying to make’ peace and make friends ever.since the confounded old war was over but it wont do. I’ve seen folks cursin round by the day, like they was tryin to get even that way, but they didn’t*- * I’ye knowned some to moan and grieve over it till they pined away and died out of it. I don’t know whether that was a auo ces or not. Talk about ma::nerM. customs and statistik 1 Why wo wasn’t the same pqgple. A Geog raphy made in January '65, wasent worth a cent in June ? We didn’t have the same ways. We was sub jugated, superceeded, and that'new clover begun to Bpread all over the sunny land. Jim Mullens says it always grows in conkered countries. It was curioqs to see the darkies steppin off the lot without axin. The pass bisness was abolished be fore we ever though about it. I've got some printed ones now as a me morial. “Let the bearer, Cim, go to his wife’s house, at Torn Claytou’s, and stay till Monday 7 morning.” Wm. Arp. Discontinued —defunct —passed away with the glory of his western hemisphere. We used to say : ' “Here, Bob, go and cath' Selim, and saddle him, and bring him here in five'minutes, you black raskal— hurry up, you sun of a gun, or I’d straiten you with a thrash polo 'tell you cairt see.— Go sir.” Nuw its “Oh, see here', Bob, I would like to have my horse brought out,' if you ain’t doing, anything partikler; bring him as soon as you can, will you ? ” And there’s the poor women— poor souls- it’s all we can do to ta per ’em down to the situation. ‘•What did you spill that water 'for, Jullyann, you lazy trilling con tcmptablo huzzy—postively you aint worth the salt that’s put in your vifctles ; didn't I tell you the next time that y r ou spilt water on this floor I’d give you a thousand—now take that, and that, and that, and that. Now go, and get your wash rag and come here and wipe it up, you good for nothing imp of dark ness 1” But that’s gene out pf fashion and now its: “Come here Saray Ann, I want you to go and see your aunt Fran cis and ask her if she wont come and do my wash ip this week. Tell her 111 be very much obliged \o her if she will. Now run along and be quick and I’ll let you go the cir cus.” Well, it hurts ’em, I know it does. It hurts the generation mity bad, but the children grown u p and commin on don’t mind it, for they never knowd much about slavery times. We old people wont last long no how, and perhaps by the time we pass away and anew crop grows up oii-both sides, the North and South," we’ll be better friends. I hope so, for if wo havent been an unhappy Irmily. for 50 years I don’t know where you’ll find one. I cant help reoaliin them old times when my old carriage drivers sot up.on a high dickey, with a stove pipe hat. on and cracked a proud whip over a pair of crickin blood bays, and a little yaller nig standin up behind the carriage a holding to the straps arid a feeling biger and grander than Julias Ceuser Demostbenees Alexander Bonaparte. Okl times farewell! Vain world farewell! Now I’ve got no fore nigger, nor hind nigger, no blood bays, nor nothin, and if I want to go anywhere thahk the good lord for bis mercies lam allowed to walk. Well thing’s different, even this here newspaper we’re ru-nning. Them old fashund runaway nigger - picters that us to be scattered along down a whole column is pH vanished. Them picters of abskonded darkeys just a trotting off- with the hind foot stickin uff and lookin like the top side of an Alabama trappin a stik on the shoulder and a little bundle on the end of it; gone, all gone ! Run away frum the subserber a coal black nigger, named Dave about 17. year* old, 5 feet 6 inches high. Anybody cate him, lodgin him in j"il can git ;S2(L reward. Darn’em—there's more of ’am catch the jail now than they did then Them old pictur dies are for sale cheap at thi&ofiis, They aint no use now but the jail, its kept full from court to court. Some of ’em want masters, shure, and they got em, too. I rekon Alexander and Grant’s railroad ohaiu gang now thjoks slavery days, was a perledt garden of Eden. , . But somehow I like the plagy things, and while I last on tho top side o,f the silo I want ’em hangin around. I like my dog, Bowse, and 1 like them; but blame try cats es I like the way the thing happened. I wish then was some way to get satisfaction. Old Greelsy’s hand busted, and little Alex’s advisin peace on earth and good will to man but I dont like the way'it was dun. I want a now deal of tho kards. Mrs. Arp don’t like it, .and a*s long as she don’t I don’t and I dont ex pect to. True and Falsie Hearts.. They dwell in every community, and their attributes are visibly to human eyes as the good and bad actions of all accountable beings are. The false heart is as constant as tho waves of an ocean, it is the abode of human selfishness where no refind and tender feeling and sentiment ever enters in, its passions are strong, and its ambitions are wild, but ever restless, changeable, and transitory. It cleaves to us in our prosperity, and so long as an intimate association with us can bring to it . any social, political or business ffstinction, it courts, curries, and cajoles us into the be lief that its interest in our welfare is as sincere and earest as our own. The true heart is ap unchangeable as eternity, it cleaves to us through every w r orldly trial and misfortune, it regards our feelings with chari ty and our mistakes with pity and forgivness. The unchangeable love of such a heart it the must price less boon in the Heavenly dispen-. sation of God’s great gifts to hu manity. It is often the last prop that sustains a drooping soul, that staggers under Its heavy burden of sorrows and adversity. No atom of self love, no quality of deceit lurks in the placid bosom where it dwells. A true heart is as incapa ble of a mean action as a bird is incapable of flying without weDgo. — JSuyene. Love Sickness. —lt is a gnawing disease; and peoplo who have it bad bite their nails, Lite their lips and bite each other’s lips. They like solitude and meditate a great deal on “solitude sweeten* edi” That’s what makes it so bad when it becomes epidemic like the horse disease. It breaks up society; breaks up families ; breaks up old friendships and breaks a good many hearts. But it is’t such a very bad sick ness to have after all. It don’t take a fellow right off from his feet like the ague. It’s a little warming to the blood, but it don’t burn like a typhoid fever. It don’t require quinine, nor jal up, nor squills, nor any other bitter stuff’. , Bitters could never keep o.ompa ny with any thing so sw^et. —“ Phairest of the phair,” sighed the lover. Phancy .my pheeling when I phoreseo the phearful consequenc es of our phleeing phrom your pha ther’s phannly. Phew phtllows could have phaced the music with so much phortitnde as I have ; and as phickle phortr.no phails to smile up on our iore, I phind.myself phorced to phorego the pleasure of becoming your husband. Phair, phair Phran ces. Pharewcll, pharewell, pherev erl- ” “ Hold, Phranklin, hold ! ” screamej. Phranees, “ 1 will phol low yoU pliorever ! ” But Phranklin phled and Phrances phqintcd. An Irish schoolmaster sht thG fol lowing “copy” for one of his pupils: “ Idleness clothes a man with., na kedness.” Fattening Yourg Wo- • men. Throughout the interior of Af rica, and. Indeed, in some parts ot Asia,'a woman is prized ' for fat ness. Beauty is associated with excessive obesity ; and such being public sentiment, mothers seasona bly commence a system of dietio treatment that makes their daugtors irresistible. Colonel Keating’s givo an account of the process of fatten* ing young women for a Tunis mar ket. As soon as betrothed, she is cooped up»in a small room, .with gold shackles on her ankie? If her proprietor has lost a wife by death, or divorced one, their anklets aro sent forward for the new 7 mat rimonial candidate. When Bhe has attained a desirable size, indicated •by filling the pattern rings, she,;is in triumph to her n:w home. ' The preparations of fdod that act* ually produces the coveted dimen sion—mountain of fatness—is called draught, made of the seed of a veg etable peculiar to the country.— Some positively die from excessive fatness in an effort to surpass in that bewitching accomplishment rival candidates .for matrimonial posi tions. Theso-famous mortals are not the poor girls. They are the highest orders of society, aud there fore are ambitious like fashionables in some civilized States, of securing an elevated position with a rich hus band. Bruce, the traveler, saw a great queen in Africa—a gem of women, the envy of her sex and wife hunters—who weighed over four hundred pounds. Can science explain the actions of those seeds philosophically? *■ <Uoo«l-3tye. It is a hard word to speak.— Some may laugh that it shoud be, but let them. Icy hearts are never kind. It is a word that has choked many an utterance, • and started many a tear. The hand is clasped, the word la speken, we part and are upon the great ocean of tithe— wc go, to meet where ? Take care that your good-bye be not a cold one—it may bo the last you% can give. Ere you can meet your friends again, death’s cold hand may have closed his eyes and chained his lips forever. And he may have died thinking that you loved him not. Again it may be a long seperation. Friends crowd onward and give you their hand. How you detect in each “good-bye” the love that lingers there; aud how you may bear away . with you the memory of those words many, many days. We must often seper ate. Tare not yourselves away with careless boldness that defies all love, make your last words lim, ger—give the heart full, what- of it ? Tears are not unmanly. A toper got so much on his storm ach the other day that said organ repelled the load. As lie leaned against a lamp post vomiting, a lit tle dog happened to stop, by him ? whereupon he indulged in this soliloquy: “Well now, here’s a conundrum. I know where I ato the black beans, I remembered where I ate that lobster, I recollect where I got that rum, but I’m hanged if I can recall where I ate that little yallor dog.” **» 1 - *Tm a self-made man,” said a na tive of Stonington the other day, t» a New York gentleman, with whome he had been driving a sharp bargin. “Glad to hear you say. so,” responded the New Yorkel 7 , who had been worsted in the'trado, “for it relieves the Lord of a great responsibility^’ A lady about to marry was warned tliat her intended, although a.good man, was- Very exceatric. Well, sho said, if he is very unlike other men, he is more likely to be a good husband. If you would relish your food, labor for it; if you' would enjoy your clothes, pay for them before wear them; if you would sleep soun dly, take a clear conscience to bud* with you. NO 1.