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111 iff in* and the Wid* One Sunday Higgins came into my office and sat down without a word. For some minutes he sat still, watching me intently as if he was trying to make out by the sound of my pen what I was writing, “Squire/’ said he at length, "did I over tell you about my scrape with the widow Horrv. up here oil the river?” “ Sever did,” said I, laying down my pen. “ let’s hear it.” r “ They're curious creatures, widows is, said he in a meditative tone, "and the more you study about 'em the more you don't know about ’em. What was this thing I've read about in Egypt, or some other country, that nobody could un " The Sphinx, probably, I replied. “ Well ” he continued, “ that was a widow as sure as you ever had a granny. Everything else in the earth has been found out but them, and they're as much a mys tery to-day as the length of the North Pole. You may read the history of the world from Genesis to Revelations, and you'll find that widows has been at the bottom or top of five quarters of all the devilment that's been cut up. Was you ever in love with one ?” “ Lots of them,” said I. “ You're a great gander—that's what you are,” said he. “A man that loves one and gets over it won't never get bit by another, if he’s got as much sense as a ground hog. I don't consider I’ve got any sense at all, but I’m a little grain too smart to let another of them get all the trumps on me. The widow Horry that I was a speaking of, is a little the handsom est woman I reckon that ever looked a man into fits, and I ought to be a judge, for I’ve seen lots of pretty women in my day. Shi was about twenty-five years old when I went up there to work, just in the bloom of her beauty and as full of deviltry as a three year old mule colt. There was a ball over at Jenkins’, and of course I went, for I always go where there's any fun foing on, and generally act the fool before get away, of course. The widow was there, dressed as fine as Solomon’s lilies, and flying around as frisky as a young lamb in a rye patch. I got introduced to her and asked her to dance with me, and when she flushed her eyes at me and said ; yes,’ 1 jumped up like I had set down on a griddle. You may talk about sensation, but when she took hold of my hand and 1 sorter squeezed it, I felt a sensation as big as a load of wood, and it kept running up and down my back like a squirrel with a [hawk after him. I’m very fond of dancing ; Ibut I'll be hanged if I know whether I en- Ijoyed it that night or not, for every time Ish’e took hold of my hand I’d commence peeling curious behind my ears and up and Sdown my back again, and then I wouldn’t Know whether I was on earth or in a bal- Iloon, or on a comet, or anything about it. lit was undoubtedly a case of love at first jsight, and a powerful bad case at that. For i a wonder I got through the frolic without [making myself conspicuous or cutting up [any extras, as I’m in the habit of doing I when Igo into public. I'd set my pegs to jjgo home with the widow after the ball, but just as I was fixing my mouth to ask her, iup steps a big, long, leather faced doctor, [named Mabry, and walked her right off be jfore my eyes. That riled me a little, but [kept inv tongue still, inwardly swearing to break his bones the very first opportunity that presented itself. I saw there was no use in saying anything, so I went home and went to bed, and all the rest of the night I was dreaming about rainbows, angels, butterflies, fiddles, widows and doctors, mixed up worse than a Dutch man’s dinner. Well, ’Squire, to make a short story of it, I made up my mind to have the widow, or kill myself or some body else. So I made it convenient to be on hand where she was, upon all occasions. I couldn’t cat, nor sleep, nor work, and if the thing had held on, 1 wouldn’t have had sense enough left to skin a rabbit. But I was determined it shouldn’t last long, for I’d been fooled so often by women that 1 thought I wouldn’t give her time to think of anything but me. She appeared to take to me right sharply, and the doctor seemed inclined to mix in with me, but I didn t consider him no more than a brush fence, for I was so far gone I thought she could see nobody on earth but me. W ell, ’Squire, things went on so for ’bout a month, and one Sunday I screwd up my spunk and put the question to her. She sorter laughed and sorter looked one-sided, and finally told me she couldn’t give me an answer just then, but if 1 and call at her house next Thursday evening she’d give me a final answer. Thinks 1 you are mine just as sure as there s a tiddler below. W henever a woman takes time to study she'll say yes. ’Squire, don't the poets say something about the calculation of men going crooked ?” “Mice and men,” Burns says,” I an swered. “ Well, mice and rats is all one, and so is men and fools sometimes, as I have found out in my travels. 1 was so sure she would have me I went off and spent all my money for fine clothes, thinking I would have them ready for the wedding— and I did ! Confound that widow ! I say ! Confound all widows ! Thursday evening came at last, though it was a long time about it, and over I went dressed into fits, and feeling as big as Josh Raynor did when he was elected coroner. I got there about dark, and found a right smart crowd collected, which was not on the bills, but I felt as big and as good as the rest of 'em. So I marched in like a blind mule into a potato patch, and took a seat by the fire. I didn’t see anything of the widow, but 1 kept looking for her to come in and send for me, and passed away the time by cuss ing the crowd to myself, thinking they had no business there, and I would not get to talk to my woman a bit. Presently the door opened and in walked Polly and that long-legged Doctor, and a whole team of boys and girls fixed up savagely, 1 tell you. I looked around for a fiddler, think ing they were going to have a ball, but wondered what they kept so still for, and was about proposing a reel, when up gits a little preacher, and before you could swal low a live oyster, he had Polly and the Doctor married faster than a Mexican greaser could tie a bull s horns. I was so I completely flummuxed that I set there with my mouth open like I was going to i swailow the whole crowd, and my eyes i looked like billiard balls till the ceremony Was over, when I jumped up and bellowed : VOL. I l-NO. 5. “ I forbid the concern from being consti tuted !” " You are a little too late, my friend," said the preacher, and they all commenced laughing like they had seen something funny. “ I’ll be sqnizzled if I don't be soon enough for somebody yet,*’says I, “for I was mad 'Squire, and no mistake in the ticket. I could have eat that Doctor quicker'n a hungry dog could swallow a squirrel skin, if I could have had a fair chance at him. It was too bad after 1 had fixed up to marry' her myself, for her to walk right out before my eyes and marry that great baboon.” “ It was bad, that is a fact,” said I. “ Rad !” cried he, " it was meaner than eating fried coon. I first thought I’d go straight home, but then concluded that wouldn't spite nobody, so 1 determined to stay and see if I couldn't get satisfaction out of somebody. You know I'm the deuce to get myself or somebody else into a scrape when 1 take a notion, and I’d taken one that night that went all over me like a third day chill, so I commenced a study'n out some plan. I recollected hear ing the doctor say that where he come from (but the Lord* only knows where that was) the bride and groom always washed their faces together as a charm against in fidelity, or some other long word. While I was study’n about that, I spied the doc tor's saddle bags sitting up in the corner, so l waited till they went into supper, and then I got the bags and looked to see what I could discover. Nearly the first thing I saw was a piece of lunar caustic. 1 slip ped it into my pocket, for I had my plan as soon as 1 saw it. Well, 1 watched around till I saw one of the girls go the pail with a pitcher, so 1 went out and asked her what she was going to do with it. She said she was going to carry it into the room for the Doctor and Polly to wash their faces in. I kept talking to her while she was filling the pitcher, and when she turned her head l dropped the caustic into it. It was then about bed time, and I got my hat and put out, but I couldn't help laughing all the way home, whenever I'd think about next morning. “ Well, ’Squire, they do say that when that couple waked up next morning they both had the hardest kind of fits, each one thinking they had been sleeping with a nig ger. Oh, it was rich! He a cussin’ and tearing up things, and she a faintin’ and coinin’ to and going off again, and me not there to see it. They made such an un earthly racket that the folks broke into the room to see what was the matter, and there they was with their faces and hands all as black as the inside of an old stove pipe. I'd give half my interest in the tother world just to have been at some safe place where I could have seen the whole row. As soon as they found out that they was really the same folks that married the night before, they called for warm water and soap, but just here the doctor happen ed to think about the pitcher and took it to the door to see what was the matter. There was a little piece of caustic that had not dissolved, and as soon as he saw it, he says : “ It’s no use washing. Polly. All the soap in New York city wouldn’t wash that black off.” “ That was the truth, ’Squire, soap and water had no more effect than it would on a native born African, and all the chance was to wait and let it wear off. How long it took them to get white again, I never found out, hut one thing I do know,” he concluded, getting up to go out, “the next time 1 saw the doctor 1 had the hardest fight, and come the nighest getting whaled that I ever did in all my born days !” Tlie nau that Fraud Made. N. F. Sun. This is the man that Fraud made. This is the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made. This is the Gould that bought the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made. This is the Noyes that started-the Gould that bought the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made. This is the Count that followed the Noyes that started the Gould that bought the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made This is the Key that closed the Count that followed the Noyes that started the Gould that bought the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made. This is the Matthews, shaven and shorn, that fathered the Policy, all forlorn, that forged the Key th t closed the Count that followed the Noyes that started the Gould that bought the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made. This is the Country, cheated and torn, that spurns Stanley Matthews, shaven and shorn, that fathered the Policy, all for lorn, that forged the Key that closed the Count tliat followed the Noyes that start ed the Gould that bought the Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud made. A Cure For Rheumatism. An agricultural journal recommends the following recipe as a simple and invaluable remedy for rheumatism : “ Take a pint of spirits of turpentine, to which add half an ounce of camphor ; let it stand till the cam phor is dissolved, then rub it on the part affected, and it will never fail of removing the complaint. Flannel should be applied after the part is well fomented with tur pentine. Repeat the application morning and evening.” It is said to be equally available to burns, scalds, bruises and sprains, never failing of success. A young man sent sixty cents to a firm in Michigan who advertised a recipe to prevent bad dreams. He received a slip of paper on which was written : “ Don’t go to sleep.” HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2(5, 1577. A I'oillrHl Love l.i'ltvr to Ninncy. To thee, dear Nancy, thee my sweeting. Your own dear Jacob sends you these lines greeting : With you. by all the powers above, I’m over head and cars in love; For Cunid took a statidb sly In one uright corner of your eye, And from his bow let fly a dart Which missed my ribs ami hit my heart, And ope'd a way so broad and wide As mute deranged my inner side, But I, alas ! too quickly found That love had entered at the wound As mice into a cheese w ill creep Through a small crack and. entering deep. Will eat and live while all looks well Till all they leave's an empty shell. So I, dear Nancy, to my smart Find I'm left without a heart. And but a case of ribs and skm And growing daily still more thin, Nor shall 1 e'er my flesh regain Unless your kindness 1 obtain. So that you'll take my heart that's flown And in exchange send me your own. Oh ! Nancy, dear. I love you more Than ever mortal loved before. My tongue indeed will scarcely move Unless it speaks of you and love, My every part is in commotion Whene'er I sec yourself in motion, And whatsoever way you go Mv eves your footsteps still pursue ; Whether you move by day or night You still are my supreme delight. And when I miss you with surprise The streams gush forth from both my eyes And flowing Tike a rapid, river Threaten to wash away my liver. Indeed, so restless have I grown I cannot bear to live aloqe. For day and night ’tis all iny fancy To ride and walk and be with Nancy, tn you, my dearest, I behold More tempting charms by far than gold, Nor would the world without you be A w orld of any worth to me. Cotton, when gin’d and neatly prcst, Is not so white as your dear breast; Nor is tobacco half so sweet To those who love the weed to cat, As arc your charming lips to one Who longs to glue them to his own. Kindness, when beaming from your eyes, Far more than cribs of corn 1 prize; And should your smiles on me descend I’d almost dance on either end. Come. Nancy, love me, for indeed, I’m of the honest faithful breed. I’m more than all my neighbors know A lad of substance than of show ; I’m when in health full six feet high With not a limb or joint awry ; Of my wit I boast not, yet my brains Keep me from traveling when it rains— Unless to see the I should go, I’ll stop not then for rain or snow ; I know the odds ’twixt cheese and chalk ; Can tell a handsaw from a fork. Take me then, Nancy, and to you I'll prove forever kind and true. My love shall last so long no doubt Savannah’s streams shall first run out, And when death comes in lire and thunder To cut the marriage knot asunder. I’ll strive midst every change of weather To make him seize us both together— That is if through life with me you take up, So that in death I may be your own dear Jacob. FonfcHNioii of a Step Mother. Being present at the bod of a sick lady once, I heard things that utterly confound ed me. Said she r “ I married Mr. Gale when I was seven teen. He then was the father of two little children, Alice and Green—beautiful chil dren indeed. For a while after we were married, I doated on them and loved them intensely ; but by degrees my love for them abated, and in a couple of years it was changed into dowmright hatred. Mr. Gale often looked very thoughtful and serious, for he was a man of very acute discern ment, but he never remonstrated with me —he kept his keen mental anguish within the private recess of his own bosom. As my affection diminished, of course my ac tions were more morose and tyrannical to wards his children. My own two children, Ida and Martin, took up all my care. Everything that could be done towards dressing, food and spoiling was done by me ; and even Mr Gale often joined me in it in a degree, perhaps more to diminish my asperity towards his own, than to ca ress mine. But he signally failed, if that was his intention. After a while the chil dren—all four—w'ere sent to school, and now on my dying bed I confess mv parti ality with a burning blush and a deep pun gent pain of conscience. There two baskets prepared, and with strict orders for each couple to eat out of their own basket. I gave my children fowl, pies, sweetbread, watHes etc., but his had nothing but corn bread, and fat meat. Once 1 remember, Alice asked me to put a bit of chicken in her basket, for she was sick ; but I gave her cheek such a slap that she never repeated the request. My chil dren were well dressed, but his were j obliged to wearcoaise and patched clothes. If then thought that no one would notice i the difference that was made ; and I learn that it is the common neighborhood talk. 1 shall soon die, and I want all the neigh bors to know that I am sorry for my past acts, and if I could live I would certainly do better.” She then called Green and Alice to her bedside, and asked their for i gjveness for treating them so, and especially ! when going to school. Alice with tears in ! her eyes replied : “Nevermind that ma; for Ida and Mar tin always let us eat with them. And as j to the clothing, brother and I were always I clad better than we deserved.” *’ Dear child,” she added, I wish I could live, just to show you how different my course would be. Dear Alice, I am so glad that Ida divided dinner with you at school. She was so much better than 1 was.” After a few more incoherent sentences the lady expired. Although this narrative is a dream, when I awoke, I was very much att'ectcd. Since that time I have seen many step-mothers and step fathers that i wish could realize what I did when Mrs. Gale was telling me of her misconduct to her step-children. Some step-parents, no doubt, treat their step-children as well as they can ; but by far the greater portion, in our opinion, do not. There are so many things in which they can make a difference, and they are so cunning, that it would take a very close ami acute observer to detect the difference. They all, however, should remember, that the all-seeing eye of Him who will judge us all. sees into the inmost recess of the heart. Step-parents have the best facilities for being partial of any class with which we are acquainted. One may he cross and crabbed to a child tdat is too small to take notice. llow shainefil and cowardly it is to impose on a fatherless or motherless child! The very one who ought to be their friend and protector, is often their enemy and persecutor ! Step children ought not, of course, be allowed to do what is wrong; but there can be rule without tyranny, and obedience without servility. If step-parents would think of their own children being left in such a con dition, and bring the matter right homo to themselves, it is likely that often much more lenity would be shown—many more good words woifid be given—and a great many less stripes and bruises inflicted, and a vast deal less sins to be accounted for in a coming day. Sam. Mlmccllmiicoiim ItcniM. The belief that baptism should be ad ministered by immersion, with the face downward, has spread among the Southern negroes, and in Ilaleigh, recently, fifty-one chose that mode. “ Jones, if burglars should get into your house, what w r ould you dos*” “ I’d do whatever they required of me. I’ve never had my ow r n way in that house yet, and it’s too late to begin now—yes, alas ! too late!” A clergyman, on applying for an ap pointment, was asked, “ 1 hope, sir, you drink in moderation.” “Well. 1 try as much as possible to drink like a beast 1” “ Like a beast, sir!’’’ “ Yes ; I stop when I have had enough, and that is what a beast always does.” Writing of the battles at Shipka Pass, the correspondent of the Loin ton Daily Telegraph says “ Let this fact fie noted— that all the Turks found killed had their throats cut, clearly showing that the men were wounded lirst and slaughtered after ward.” Some amusement w r as caused not long ago in an English court by a female wit ness, who, on the oath being administered, repeatedly kissed the clerk instead of the book. It was sometime before she could be made to understand the proper —or at least the legal thing to do. A Main-street man stood inside the blinds the other day, and spent fifteen minutes trying to brush a streak of sunshine oil his pants with the clothes brush before he discovered what it was. He was so mad then that he jawed his wife, whipped three of the children and sulked all the rest of the day. —Bridgeport Standard. To i’kkskkvk fruit without cooking : Allow a pound and a half of sugar to a pound of fruit. Pare and slice or quarter the fruit and put in layers alternated with layers of sugar on the top. and seal up close to keep from the air. The flavor is thus fully preserved, and in mid-winter the fruit will be found rich and delicious. —Detroit Free Dress. “ Have you any rebutting testimony to offer, Patrick?” asked the justice of a prisoner arraigned for goat-killing. Pat scratched his head ; anew light seemed to dawn on him. ‘'Rebutting, is it? Shure an’ that's just what’s the matter, yer Hon or ; the bloody baste butted me till devil a stich of sate wuz left on me breeches, yer Honor, and that’s why I’m here to-day.” Pat was acquitted. Two brothers named Mitchell, confined in the San Bernardine, Cal., jail, recently escaped by presenting a wooden revolver at the jailer's head while be sat at supper, and so terrifying him that he gave them the prison keys and suffered himself to be bound hand and foot. The revolver was whittled out of a pine stick, and stained walnut color. Sheet zinc was fblled up and fastened on to represent the cylinder and chambers. Now is the time of the year when the “ hay-fever ” patients gather themselves together from the four quarters of the land and assemble in convention to “ whereas ” and to “resolute” and to exchange ca tarrhal and asthmatic symptoms. And this is about the way they conduct them selves in their assemblings together: A member arise, handkerchief in hand, and moves “ that the Rev. Henry Ward Bee— a-chee—a-a-chu —a-cher take the a-che—a chc—a-chair,” Carried. The gentleman, in taking the chair, thanks the convention “ for the hon—&-chee—or conferred upod wild who has for so benny years beed wud of the host ac—a-chee—tive workers in the cause —a —which—chee —this convention has so buck at heart, dabely. the abeliora tion of the codition of the bultitudes who suffer the discubcords of hay —a-fe—chee —ber. This sample of what takes place at a hay-fever convention must suffice. As Artemus Ward used to say, “the subjec lis tu painful ; let us drop a vale.” — N. i . World. WHOLE NO. 57. CharMtcr of n . 11Y MIHN L. A. ATTAWAY. It takes more to coustituto a lady than is generally supposed. Of course this term is applied to anyone of the female sex. Is this, however, its literal signification? Webster tells us that a lady is “ a well-bred woman,” ami also defines the wonl as it is usually atul technically applied. Wo are. however, deviating from the point at which wo aim ; for it is not our intention to define the term lady, hut to delineate her characteristics. It takes something else to make a genu ine lady besides the delicate white hands and fair face—besides the skill in music and dancing, and the proper adjustment of plaits, rutiles, Ac. These are not tho requisites of a true lady; hut we do not entirely condemn these qualities, for we admire the skillful musician, ami the dexterous lingers that can cut and arrange to perfection. It is said *• that the outward appearance is an index to the heart,” and most assuredly it is no mark of a lady to be careless and negligent iu her attire. Rut the genuine lady regards all formal accomplishments and sensual qualifications ot very little importance, since they add nothing to the sum of real happiness. It is the proper cultivation of the mind ami heart that embellishes tho character of a lady. She desires above all things to please the Supreme Being, ami “ hath chosen that good part, which shall not ho taken away from her.” She feels that it is her indispensable duty to do all in her power for the advancement of Christianity and the propagation of the Gospel through out the world. She likewise desires the happiness ami welfare of her fellow-beings—ever ready and willing to sympathize with them. She leads the erring prodigal into the paths of rectitude —renders assistance to the widow and orphan, and delights in nl leviating the sutleriiigs of the poor ami needy—indeed, she does not regard it be neath her honor and dignity to enter their abode, and to pour tho halm of consola tion into their hearts. She is also a ministering angel to the afllictcd. No hand like hers can smooth the pillow' for the aching head. The real lady hears the misfortunes of life with patience. If her condition ho un propitious—if sho be surrounded by pov erty, she does not complain because she has not been otherwise favored. She is entirely resigned, under all circumstances, to the dispensation of her Divine Master. If. however, Dame Fortune lias filled her cup to the utmost capacity, she is not elated, neither regards others as her inte riors because affluence has bedecked her with silks and jewels. If she be ns rich as Croesus, she is like wise, the consistent, modest ami unas suming Christian. Should the afflicting roil he laid upon her, she hears it with patience and fortitude, often exclaiming in the language of the inspired writer: ‘‘Though lie slay me, yet will I trust in Him.” The true lady, also, governs her temper and tongue. The latter the Apostle James tells us ‘‘is a little member and boosteth great tilings.” She is not hasty therefore, in be lieving. and circulating reports. “ When scandal is busy, ami the fame of her neighbor is tossed from tongue to tongue, if charity and good nature open not her mouth, the finger ot silence resteth upon her lips.” Another characteristic of a lady is to nave “polished manners;” by this term we mean not only the rules of etiquette, hut also, those that are exercised by every one who is truly a Christian. The foundation of good manners lies in Christianity itself. Hence, the woman who governs herself according to the precepts of the Bible, ami shows in her daily life those “fruits of tho Spirit which St. Paul so carefully enumer ates, is to all intents and purposes the true lady. For society, as well as Christianity, re quires " love, ioy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,” and things that are lovely. If self he put out of sight, and kindness, courtesy, ami thought for others take its place, a very slight training in mere eti quette is alf that is required to make a genuine lady. I.emon* Cure lor <oiiiiiii|>tlou Nunhua Telegraph. A correspondent of an Knglish medical journal furnishes the following as a new cure for consumption : Put a dozen lemons in cold water and boil until soft (not too soft,) roll and squeeze until the juice is all extracted, sweeten the juice enough to be palatable, then drink. Use as many as a dozen a day. Should they cause pain or looseness of the bowels, lessen the quantity and use five or six a day until better, then begin and use a dozen again. By the time you have used five or six dozen you will begin to gain strength and have an appetite. Of course as you get better you need not use so many. Follow these directions, and we know you will never regret it if there is any help for you. Only keep it up faithfully. We know of two cases where both the patients were given up by the phy sicians. and were in the last stages of con sumption, yet both were cured by using lemons according to the directions we have stated. One lady in particular was bed ridden and very low; had tried everything that money would procure, but all in vain when, to please a friend, she was finally persuaded to use the lemons. She begun to use them in February, and in April she weighed 140 pounds, .‘she is a well woman to-day, and is likely to live as long as any of us. Ftrclni; Barren Trees. This can be done by pruning from tlio 25th of August to the loth or 20th of Sep tember. While 1 don’t know as I can give a scientific reason for it, yet I know, by actual experience, that it will have the desired effect if properly done. If the tree is very vigorous, root pruning may be nec essary. The reason I assign for pruning at that time is that the fruit-buds are form ed at that season, and if the flow of sap b 6 turned from the wood it will go to maturo the fruit-bud.