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WITH THE ABYAHTAfIEM.
BY OBED OCHILTREE.
The steamer Sultana left the port of
New Orleans on as pleasant an after
noon ns ever shone upon the <frcat Val
ley. with a 4Rinll udmjber of passengers,
aid breajfin {lie swift current*
upon widen was oiifnoroe until we
should arrive at St Louis. The thou
sand minor cares that mark the com
mencement of every voyage which is
to last several days prevented the pas
sertger* frontMeirtgMlfii of eaoli other
tlie first eventog; <Mw*ae Aecdnd day a
kind of acquaintanceship became es
tablished, which, ere the journey was
ended, ripened into sfrttiething very like
the familiarity of friendship.
Couspiooous among the passengers
was a man drosse(i in brown linsey
woolscyf a broad-brimmed wool-hat, liu
blacked brogans, and a coarse home
made cotton shirt. Ilis face waa retiree.
linrsh-fentiujed and much sun-browned ;
but in it there sparkled a pair of jet
black eyes, ohie glance at which was
sufficient tq satisfy jthe oljaervar that
their passenger was uot t* be trifled
with. He stood six #et, in his stock
ings, was straight as a sappliug, and
the veriest greenhorn on earth would
have said at once that he could have
come from no other place than
If his outward appearance leA. roo*i’
for a doubt, the moment he
doubt would vanish. Upon a ftnefilrin
on the bank of the river, with the help
of half a dozeu negroes, he had raised
"*a crop of corn,-built two "broad-horns,”
loaded thftn, and committwi lihneelf to
the current, -Arrival in New Orleans
he disposed of his boats, and
was now returning home; his pockets
dancing to the tune of four orlive thou
sand dollars, which fact he took no
care to conceal.
A well-dressed, emooth-faced, breast
pinned, finger-ringed, faro-table-lopking
man, who answered to the name of
Bradley, had evidently taken quite a
fancy to “ Kentuck,” (we neither knew
nor needed any other name tor him),
which we could easily perceive was not
reciprocated, hut which was neverthe
less persisted in .with commendable
perseverance.
On the third or fourth evening, most
of the gentlemen were sitting on the
boiler deck, smoking their cigars and
admiring a beautiful sunset, when Ken
tuck seated himself in their midst, evi
dently a little " sprung ” by his after
dinner potations, and ripe for fun. Our
smooth-faced friend placed himself by
his side, and made a remark rather dis
paraging to Kentucky intelligence.
Kentuck “ waked up ” instantly.
“ Look yer, stranger! Ef you let
three words out o’ your tater-trap agin’
old Kentuck. I an’ you’ll have a scrim
mage immediately, if not sooner! 1
kin hug like a h’ar, and I’m a screamer,
no mistake ! I’ve lived in old Kentuck.
man and boy, nigh forty year, and I
never got nothin’ tliar but mighty good
usage, and I won’t see her abused —ef
I do, may I never swaller another dod
ger !”
“ Have you always resi led in Ken
tucky ?” asked a gentleman.
“ No, sir-ee—and I reckon I missed
it a heap when I squatted in Indianny.
They have a power of ager up tliar.
Tell ye how ’twas: I’d never ben any
whar to see the world but down the
Massissip, and the varmints got scace
yer; and my woman had kin up about
Vincennes, and nothin’ would co-.cdt
the old lady but we must visit ’em, any
how—so I'sold inv clearin’, packed my
plunder, and mizzled. But I warn't thar
more'n a a week afore I seed the jumps.
Everything had the ager, and a heap on
’em the milk-sick. Why, the settlers
shook so hard they had to nail the kiver
to the bedstead to keep it on ; and a
stake-an’-ridered fence wouldn’t stan‘
more’n one summer. For the matter of
a fortnight I shook to pieces so every
night that it took cl’ar two hours to find
my arms and legs agin next mornin’.
I couldn’t stan’ it no longer ; so I took
back trail, bought my old clearin’, and
you’d better b’live I felt mighty peart
to see my friends agin.”
“ Your neighbors were, no doubt,
glad to see you ?”
“ Wal, I haint got a heap o’ mighty
nigh neighbors,'*eeein’ the nighest lives
eight miles off. I mean the boats. I
know the cough of every boat that runs
Massissip as well as I do the trail of a
b’ar.”
“ Didn’t you find the soil as fertile
as you expected iu Indiana ?”
“ Fertyle ! sile fertyle ! No. I per
ceive, stranger, you never lived in Ken
tuck, or you wouldn't ax sicli a power
ful silly question. Them cussed Iloo
siers can’t crop more’n sixty bushel of
corn to the acre, no how ; and, small as
I am, I could pull every yer without a
box to stan’ on. Why, I raise one
hundred bushel to the acre, an’ ride a
horse in the path to pick it! Old Ken
tuck’s rich—the men in it’s rich—but
the sile*s a heap richer’n both together.
You’ve beam tell of big Porter, the
Kentucky giant ? He was raised in
our parts. He got throwed from his
beast in Buffalo bayou jest back o’ my
clearin’, and it hurt the critter so bad
that he lay thar all night. Next morn
ing he’d growed two feet !**
l’ve understood that the soil was
not only as rich, but that game, and
particularly wildfowl, were more plenty
on the prairies of Indiana and Illinois
than in Kentucky," remarked one of
the company.
“ Wai, yes; I ain’t qualified, but
they be. But they have the ager so
oneom fort ably, and get so domed poor
they ain’t no account. The ager is
some vartu. sometimes, though. I made
VOL. Ill—NO. 15.
el’ar two hundred dollars by it two
years ago. Tliar was a pigeon roost up
thar hi the Hoosler State, and they all
gut the ager and emigrated. A right
smart chance of a flock flew over my
claim when the chill was on, and the
poor birds shook so hard that my plan
tation was kivered an inch deep with
feathers ! I had ’em gathered.up, used
a power on ’em myself, sent the rest to
Orleans, and got the dimes.”
I should have thought,” modestly
•suggested one “that they would have
found it difficult to fly without feathers.”
“ That's what I allowed. Hut it was
.the beautifullest sight you ever seed—
the kindness of them critters! You
see they had the fits every other day.
It was the well day for about half, and
they turned and took the onfort’nit
ones on their backs!” And, raising
l|ip hands and eyes, said he: “ Oh,
"*Wrns a Christian sight!” •
The evening getting somewhat ad
vanced, the passengers retired to the
saioon, when Kentuck sung out:
“ Oh, bar-keeper 1 show ns your eye-
opener.”
The “ whito-cye ” went round quite
freely at Kentuck’s expense, when Mr.
Bradley, thinking him ripe for, the ex
periment. asked if he would not “ like
a game of ‘ poker,’ just to pass the
time ?”
*• Yes, horse ! On hand like a bale
of cotton !—ready every time. Play
for anything ?”
“ Why, yes ; just to make the game
interesting, you know. How much
ante !”
“ Nothing less than a dollar,” said
Kentuck, “ and no limit to bets.”
“ I object to that," said Bradley. “ I
prefer that you should not oversize iny
pile.”
“ ’Nough said,” answered Kentuck.
“ You, of course play a perfectly fair,
gentlemanly game ?” said Bradle}'.
The words were scarcely spoken
when Kentuck aimed a blow at him
that would have felled an ox, but which
was avoided by a nimble dodge. Ken
tuck was instantly seized by the by
standers. Bradley apologized, and
upon being assured that no insult was
meniit. Kentuck became somewhat paci
fied, though not satisfied.
“ Look per, you ynisoraljle beggar j,” ,
exclaimed lie, I Kin wnip atl iwuoauJj
like you in two minits—and if you aint
mighty respectable I’ll begin on ye now.
I warn’t fotched up on the Massissip
for alligator meat; and I know you, ye
thief! • You’re a blackleg; but if you
can come any of your shines on me—
succeed! Tell ye what I’ll, do—l *1
j [day you any game for any sum, and
! you may use all ‘ the advantages ;’ but
if you cotch me liappin’, may I be
! snagged ! So play foul as you wish;
I’m ou hand.”
The blackleg was a coward ; but as
he wished to pocket some of Kentuck’s
each, he was fain to pocket the insult
also. He accepted the terms, and the
game commenced. It was followed for
an hour or so without marked advan
tage on either hand, but not without the
detection of Bradley in several at
tempts to use “ the advantages but
as Kentuck would allow no interference,
the lookers-on were forced to remain
quiet. At length the gambler prepared
for the grand attack. A short time be
fore he had slyly added a card or two
from another pack, and as he dealt he
“ stocked ” the cards so that he would
give himself the best hand, and his op
ponent one of a little less value, but at
the same time of sufficient importance
to warrant him in betting largely upon
it. Kentuck watched the operation
with an eagle eye, and in cutting frus
trated the plan[ but Bradley supposed
himself undetected. The hands were
dealt and Kentuck bet the amount of
the stake, which was ten dollars.
“ I see that, and thirty dollars bet
ter!” said Bradley.
“ I’m up, and fifty better!” said Ken
tuck.
“ Four hundred better !” said Brad-
ley.
“ I cover your four hundred, and bet
a cool thousand !” said Kentuck.
If Bradley had “ called,” there would
have been $3,000 at stake. Bradley
affected to hesitate, and the excitement
was great among the bystanders. At
length he said :
“ Twill see your thousand, aud bet
an additional two thousand !”
*• I’m good for that,’’ coolly returned
, Kentuck, “ and five hundred better l”
The gambler was drained, and could
hardly speak from excitement, while
I Kentuck was perfectly composed.
“I bar that,’’ said Bradley. “My
last cent is up. and you were not to
oversize my pile.”
I “Agreed/’ returned Kentuck. “I
1 withdraw my five hundred, and call.”
Bradley laid down his hand with the
air of one sure of victor}', exposing
four kings and an ace. His hand was
superior to any other in a fair pack.
But he had forgotten the cards be him
self had added.
“ I presume, - said he, “ that you ad
mit that the money is mineand was
reaching out his hand to take it, when
Kentuck pulled from his pocket a nlcas-
HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER 4, 1878.
ant looking revolver, and exclaimed —
“ Hold! Touch that money and you
are a dead man !” And throwingtkiwn
his cards, he said—“ Look there, you
scoundrel! Do you give in ?”
Kentuck had four aces and a queen.
Poor Bradley he had bitten himself and
was forced to yield.
“Hurra for old Kentuck! I say,
captain, where are we ?”
“About ninety miles below the Ohio.”
“Then my dearin’s nigh by.” He
stepped out into the bright moonlight
and shouted, “ Stop her! Give her a
lick back ! Yer lam ; and there’s the
old woman and the boys. Good night,
all!”
By this time the boat touched the
shore, and Kentuck leaped to the ground
As we moved otl he shouted :
“ Hallo, thar! yon nigger skunk!
When yer want to pluck a pigeon agin,
just ask if lie’s got the ager. The
feathers will come off a heap peerter if
he has!”
With these words he vanislied. After
the boat stoppod at the next wood yard,
no more was seen ol’ Mr. Bradley.
_ 4^iOTHER WARi
KmllfS sad Afghanlstnfa.
Atlanta Conttitution.
Ouf dispatches have made tho steps
that led to war between the forces of tbc
Empress and of the Ameer so plain that
we need not recapitulate them. In a
word, Ameer Shere Ali preferred Rus
sian tfr English friendship. He cordi
ally welcomed a Russian, and As cordi
ally repulsed an English embassy.
Whether this was on account of the
drubbing that the English gave his
father, the great Dost Mohammed, in
1842, or on account of Russian intrigue,
we will not stop now to discuss. It is
sufficient for our present purpose that
war exists. We propose simply to
glance at the strength, positive and con
tingent, of the combatants.
Afghanistan itself is a country about
CO© miles square. It is so elevated
that were the sea to rise seven thousand
feet, nearly one-half of the country
would be untouched. It is broken, too,
bv mountain chains, in the passes of
which snow is rarely absent, and on
which glaciers <•*<-• tue
confines of the country, separating it
from the valley of the Indus, from In
dia, is an Alpine chain, attaining a
height of 15.622 feet. In this chain
are formidable passes. Those passes
and the broken nature of the interior,
extending to the troops of the viceroy
extreme cold and deep snows, consti
tute one of the strong points upon
which the ameer doubtless relies. It
was these that led to the annihilation
of a British army of invasion in 1841.
The population of all Afghanistan is
said to be 4,900,000, the genuine Af
ghans being about one-half of the en
tire number. The Kafirs, Eathans, Ta
jiks and other allied and similar tribes
make up the balance. Thej* are birds
of prey, turbulent, brutal, passionate
and vain. They are eternally boasting
of their lineage, their independence,
and their prowess. “Nothing,” said
Sir 11. Edwards, “is finer than their
physique or worse than their morale.” j
The Afghans are all Mohammedans.
The ameer is a dictator for life over a
military aristocracy. The sirdars gov
ern their own districts each after his
own fashion. The revenue of the coun
try is from $2,500,000 to $3,000,000 a
year. The regular army was formed in
1858 with sixteen infantry regiments of
800 men each, 000 cavalry, 80 field
pieces, and a few heavy guns. The
main military force, however, is the un
trained but hardy aud warlike levies
that the sirdars or tribal chiefs can pro
duce on occasion. It is useless to take
into account what Russia may do, that
being simply a contingency of the fu
ture. At present it is a war between
England and Afghanistan.
The European army in India numbers
04,000, the native force 128,000 —a
total of 102,000 English troops. But
only a portion of this force can be
spared from India, where 230,000,000 of
Mohammedan subjects require constant
watching. The plan of operation in
cludes three columns, that are marching
or are to march into the' ameer’s terri
tory from adjacent points. The Pesha
wur column is the strongest, consisting
of 16,000 men with 66 guns. It is
commanded by Sir H. Browne, under
whom is Sir Frederick Ilaines. This
is the column that carried Fort Ali
Musjid last Friday, and that is trying
to force the great Khyber pass and the
other defiles toward Cabul, the capital
of the country. The Koorutn column,
consisting of 6,000 men with 24 guns,
is moving from Thull by the Koorurn
valley towords Ghuznee. At the south
ern end of the base the Quetta column,
with 12,000 men and 60 guns, is to ad
vance on Candahar. At this writing
nothing has been heard from the last
named column. The movements of the
three columns are expected to be co
operative and distracting to the enemy.
The Quetta column has siege train,
hard work being anticipated at Canda
har. If that important point can be
carried, the country is practically cut in
two, there being no other practicabl;
military road between t’abul and Herat
and southern Afghanistan. It is even
thought that the objective point of the
< Quetta column may be Herat, great as
the distance is ; but the probability is,
that it intends to carry (’atidnliar, and
j Mien to assist the Koortim column, with
a view to facilitate the operations of the
column that is to march on Cabul. The
Quetta and Peshawar columns are, in
fact, expected to do the principal work
of the campaign. All the columns
have the advantages of telegraph lines,
and are therefore reasonably secure
against unexpected concentrations of
an opposing force acting on interior
lines.
The ability of the English to over
come the Afghans, ami their natural and
climatic advantages would not be doubt
ed if—this is thought to be an unusu
ally targe-sized “ if”—if the subjects
of the queen in the Punjatib remain
quiet and Russia keeps her hands otf.
On account of the elevation of the
country all operations must cease in
the course of another month. It is
not, therefore, likely that the English
commander expects to do more this
year than to secure advantageous posi
tions tor a vigorous campaign in the
! spring. The troops could thus hold
the passes and be where fevers would
not decimate their ranks, the Peshawur
i vailed being~ deadlier than bullets. Rus-
I sia will do nothing this year. What
i she will do when Cahul and Herat are
in dagger is, after all, the puzzling fea
ture of the problem. She is now the
unofficial ally of the ameer. She cre
ated the present difficulty, and her offi
cers are going to C abul as volunteers,
just as they went to Bucharest. She
cannot well afford to let Sherc Ali be
crushed, and England cannot maintain
her supremacy over the Indian princes
unless she rectifies her western frontier
by annexing the mountain claim that
her armies are now trying to force.
A GREAT FEMALE PREACHER.
JWr*. Maggie Newton Viui Colt.
Haiti moved n.
Mrs. Van Cott, the world-renowned
revivalist, has l)ecn conducting a series
nf mliiriniw me“dmrs fiir two or tlircc
weeks past at the Franklin Rti-oo* *l
- near Sehroeder street. The
vast congregations which attended her
former visits to St. John’s Methodist,
Baltimore, and who have attended her
meetings wherever she has been, have
characterized her present visit. To se
cure a seat or even standing room one
must go an hour or so previous to the
time mentioned.
Mrs. Van Cott was born in the city
of New York, on the 25th of March,
1830. and should her valuable life be
spared will celebrate her forty-ninth an
niversary on the 25th of March, 1870.
Her father, William K. Newton, and her
1 mother, whose maiden name was Rachel
A. Primrose, were also natives of New
York city. Her father is said to have; [
been a gentleman of rare dignity, gen-1
tie disposition, full of mirth and good
humor, and a fair speeimau of that fine
; old gentleman of ye olden time.
The mother was of Hcoten descent,
gentle to the children, but very com
manding, possessing a fiery temperament
high impulsive energy, and perseverence
enough for any emergency. These char
acteristics the daughter seems to have in
herited to a large extent.
William P. Primrose, the grandfather
on the mother’s side, was a generous,
humane son of “auld Scotia,” and a
man of sterling worth. Maggie receiv
ed her first impressions of Wesleyan
Methodism while nestling on his bosom
in the early years of childhood, he of all
the relatives being the only Methodist.
From him, one calm, beautiful, starlight
evening, she received her first lesson of
heaven and the angels. He taught
her many sweet hymns, and it was lie
who first trained that tiny voice which
has culminated in such wouderous vol
ume and power to sing that little song
of so many childhood memories,
“Twinkle, twinkle, little Htar."
Then, with his clear, sonorous voice,
the faithful old soldier of the Cross
would sing that strengthening and long
familiar hymn,
“ When I can m<l mv title* clear
To mauwiou* in the *Kien.”
The sweet and solemn impressions of
those hallowed hours were never forgot
ten.
William K. Newton, the father of
Maggie, was a man of fine stature, mil
itary bearing, and for many years com-;
uiatided the National Grays, a spirited
military corps of New York city. We
are told that nature had done much for
Mr. Newton, he being a man of courtly
beating, with dark brown hair, blue
eyes and a charming voice. He was
much occupied with secular matters du-
ring the week, but when the holy Sab
bath came, the whole family were punct
ual in attendance at the Protestant
Episcopal Church of the Epiphany.
Maggie, the subject of the Baltimo
rean' sketch above, was “ the idol ”at
six years of age, and could do anything
a child could accomplish. She led the
singing at home, and her strong voice
WHOLE NO. 119.
in tlu choir cut its way through the
toiies of the ami was heurd iu
every portion of the church. At eleven
years of age Maggie manifested an un
quenchable thirst for history, and read
volume after volume rapidly, and pos
sessing a very retentive memory, rarely
forgot anything of importance. At
school she led her class in mathematics,
and a knowledge of grammar came al
most by intuition.
At the age ofeleven Maggie had been
confirmed according to the rules of the
Protestant Episcopal Church, hut her
father removed soon after to Williams
burg, Long Island. Here commenced
a seiies of soireet, musical entertain
ments, dinnerparties, and the usual fes
tivities so attractive to the young.
Among the throng now and then ap
peared Methodist friends, whose piety
shone with a cheerful light. Little by
little Maggie heard of their ways, and
the charm of their singing iu church
services. Now and then she attended
the Methodist Church, for which she
was always gently reproved by her
mother.
Mrs. Maggie Newton Van Cott was
married in the month of January, 1818,
when but eighteen years of age, and
lived happily with the husband of her
choice for nearly twenty yean*, when
death summoned him to a brighter and
better world. His deatli was a trium
phant one, and he breathed his last en
circled by the arms of his devoted wife.
Mrs. Van Cott’s first efforts in public
were those of prayer aud exhortation,
hut her wonderful powers attracted so
much atteutiou that her fame spread far
and near, and from all quarters there
poured into her invitations to visit speci
fied congregations, ller efforts were
everywhere attended with the most
gratifying results. Sinners were awak
ened, and frequently ns many as a half
a hundred professed to have found peace
in believing and joy in the Holy Ghost,
iu less than one week's time.
Respecting a great effort made by
Mrs. Van Cott a few years back at
Fond du lac, a leading Milwaukee jour
nal said : “ Such simple, mighty elo
quence were never heard before. It
was the outburst of Christian love, in
sweet earnest tones of a woman’s ficrv
nlcadimrs for (Jurist and salvation. Full
..e A.!.*. • J -,*'>.■ Ml,!. <il— uu , Tn .,1.l
leave the pulpit, glide along the aisles,
from pew to pew, pleading with this
one and reasoning with that one—mak
ing the argument stronger by the hot
tears that were failing from her eyes—
taking the weak one by the hand, and
leading him or her lip to the altar ot
prayer. Thus for seven weeks she
toiled and labored and won souls tor
Christ. DuYing this time she preached
52 sermons, held 153 meetings, spent
375 hours in meeting, mostly upon her
feet, and 575 seekers professed the
Savior.”
Since Mrs. Van Cott’s visit to Balti
more in February, 1874, she has travel
ed many thousand miles, and has
preached in all the prominent cities
since then from New York to San Fran
cisco. Time has dealt gently with her,
and although nearly five years have
elapsed, she does not look a day older.
Her eyes are as bright, her voice as
strong, her hair as lustrous, her move
ments as active, and her preaching as
hold and vigorous. Her elocutionary
power remains unimpaired, her silvery
| tongue is as fluent, and her eloquence
I is as stirring and unimpassioned as
I ever.
TIIE PEDAGOGUE OF. CRANBERRY
GULCH.
The boys had buried their thirteenth
teacher in the achoolhouse graveyard
for that purpose, for they were a hard
yet—sons of miners, hunters, trappers,
politicians, and other hard characters,
and thirty days was a good long time
for a teacher to last.
It was only the most desperate ones
that staid that long and met their fate,
the rest generally were content with a
broken arm, head, or leg, and left with
out waiting for any serious difficulty
with the boys.
Harry Floty was a university man,
who had been some time in Nevada, and
having had luck, couhlu t do better than
to leave digging and take to his educa
tion. He was pale, slender, and scholar
ly-looking, and the president of the
board of trustees said to him, sorrowful
ly, as he brushed a tear :
“ Mister, you may he book-learned,
hut it takes more than that for a teacher
in the (.'ranberry Gulch School, as you
will find. The last teacher sleeps in
yonder graveyard ; the one before him
left an eye and one arm to show his in
capacity ; the one before was very much
eaten by the eels when we found his
body, and the three before him ran away
with only about four eyes and six legs
between them. Our boys are tough,
and don’t stand no nonsense.”
“ I*t me try,” replied Harry, mildly.
“ I’m weak, but have a will. I’ll open
next Monday, at nine A. M.”
At eight, Harry went down to the
schoolhouse, with a key in one hand
and a valise in the other. Sixty stu
dents were loafing around iu a good big
; crowd to see what would turn up, while
the undertaker stood near waiting for a
job.
“ Heady to slope it if he fiuds we arc
too much for him,” whispered the bow
legged, cross-eyed bully of the school, a
devilish-looking chap, uiuetuen years
old.
The new teacher gazed pensively at
the adjacent graveyard, opened the va
lise, took out three navy sixes and a
long bow ic-kuife, whetted the latter on
the leg of his boot, cocked one ot the
former, and then said sweetly :
King the bell and wo’ll have pray
i ers.”
The big bully whom he addressed
| mildly obeved.
“ \Ve will arrange the classes,” lm
said, mildly, as he cocked a revolver
aud walked down the room.
One after another the boys were ex
amined and classed. He called the
j first class to recite in geography. A
whisper was heard behind him. Quick
ns lightning, the teacher wheeled aud
covered the offender with a deadly aim
as he spoke sternly for the first time:
“ Don’t do that again, for I never
give a second warning.”
Recess time came, and the boys, very
much crowded, went out on the play
ground. One of them threw his hall iu
the air, and before it started to descend
toward the catcher, the new teacher
struck it with a bullet, and from that
time Harry Floty lias kept school un
disturbed.
Josh Hillings to the Girls.
Dear girls are you in search of a hus
band!’
That is a bumper, and you arc not
required to suy “ves” out loud, but are
expected to throw your eyes down unto
the earth ns tho you wus lookin for a
pin, and reply to the interrogatory with
a kind of a (Iraniin sigh.
Not tew press so tender a theme until
it bekums a thorn in the flesh, we will
presume (to avoid argument) that yon
aro on the lookout for somethin in the
male line. Lot mo give you some small
chunks of advice how to spot your fu
ture husband:
1. The man who is jellous ov every
little attenshun which you git from sum
other feller, you will find after you are
married to him he luvs himself more
than lie does you and what you mistook
for solissitude, yon will discover has
changed to indifference.
2. A mustash is not iiulispensible; it
is only a little more hair, aud is much
like moss and other excressencies—often
does best on soil that won’t raise nothin’
else. Don’t forget that those things
which you admire in a fellow before
marriage you will probably condem in
a husband after, and a mustash will get
to be a weak, diet alter a long time.
3. If husbands could lie took on trial
ii i t r rnt/’Viottia u vnvi
woufifprefiaWy'Yie returned; but there
don’t seem to be ennv law for this.
Therefore, girls, you will see that after
you get a man you have got to keep
him even if you luze on him. Conse
quently if you have any kohl vittles in
(he house, try him on then) once in n
while during the courting season, and if
he swallers them well and says he will
lake more, he is a man who, wheu blue
Monday comes, will wash well.
4. Don’t marry it feller who is always
tollin’ how hiz mother duz things. It is
hard to ween a young one.
5. If a man can beat you playin on
a pinnner, and kan’t hear a fish horn
playin on the street without turning a
summerset, on account of the musick
that iz in him, 1 say to you leave him ;
he might answer to tend the baby, and
if you set him to hoeing out the garden,
you will find you have got to do it yer
! self. A man whose whole heft lies in
musick (and not too licit that) ain’t no
better than a scedlitz powder; but if he
luvs to listen, while you sing some gen
tle ballad, you will find him mellow and
not soft. But don’t marry ennybody
1 for one virtew any quicker than you
1 would Hop a man for jist one fault.
6. It is one of the most toughest
things for a female to be an old maid
successfully. A great many has tried
; it and made a bad job ov it, and had a
a hard time. Everybody seems to look
upon ole maids jist as they do upon dried
herbs in the garret —handy for sickness
—and therefore, girls, it ain’t a mistake,
and you should he willing to swop lives
ojih with sum tru harted feller, for a
husband. The swop is a good one; hut
don’t swop for any one who is respec
table jist because his father iz. You
had better he an old maid 4,000 years,
and then jine the Shakers than tew buy
repentance at this price. No woman
eyer made this trade wlio didn't get a
phool, a mean cuss or a clown for a hus
band.
An exchange notes the fact that the
lowest price at which cotton has sold in
this country during the last fifty years
was in the spring of 1845, when it
went as low as four cents per pound.
The highest price paid for cotton was
one dollar and ninety cents, in 1864.
It sold as high as fifty-two cents, how
ever, for good money, in 1866.
A young fellow in San Francisco
suddenly snatched a kiss from a lady
friend, and excused himself by saying
that it was a sort of temporary insani
ty that now and then came upon him.
When lie arose to take his leave the
pitying damsel said to him : “If you
ever feel any more such fits come right
| here, and we will take care of you.”
A farmer found a potato-bug on his
dinner table the other day, and thus to
the bug he ejaculated : “ Good heavens !
I have you got to have your potatoes
cooked this year ?”