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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 ?”