Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

BY W.H. JEFFERS3Y & CO. VOLUME 3. THE PLANTERS’ WEEKLY PUBLISHED AT ttreen9shor n>\ 6a. W. M. JEFFERSON, > ROMN W. STEVENS. > Proprietors. FRED. C. FULLER. ) TERMS—TWO DOLLARS A TEAR; OR ONE DILLAR AND FIFTY CENTS IN ADVANCE. ‘tt itcs of Ailvertising. \Jrtiaemenw inserted at the rate of one Jo!i*r par square of ten lines or ‘ess, for first ani fifty cents for each subsequent insertion, T iose not marked vritli the number of inser tions nll ba published until forbid and charg •d at these rates. Ta folio ri “ i'e one lowest contracting U\TKS: 1 Sq’r Six ratmths 87..0ne year 512 2•• “ • Jl.i •• *• 20 3..•• 16.. “ “ 28 i column G mo. 20.. “ “ 35 a 6 *• 30.. •* “ 55 a •< 5 <• 40.. “ “ 70 j a 6 “ 50.. “ “ 80 VJror'iwnents tmrieers and transient p irsvis mast be paid for in advance. Legal Advertisement*. *leof Lander by A ininUlrMor*, eX-’i-tiHirs, and On <rdian, pe- qmre, fa 00 f il.o 1 P-r*inal pr*inerty tiv Adinini.tr.Uir*, eX-cntnr*,amt Gu.Piliftii., per aquar*. 3 SO K nica tu n-l>inra amt Creditors, 3 *0 *t nice fur L ire to Sid I, * ‘*9 Citaiinß fur t. -n.r. of Ad ninUtra'lim 2 7a Ci ati in for D mi.aim from A lmini*trtion, 500 Citation fir Di.oiis.im from Guardians'dp. 3 ‘.'A The Law of Newspaper*. 1. ‘tubicribws who do not give express no tice to the contrary, a>e considered as wishing to continue their subscription. i. if subscriber* order the discontinuance of their newspaper, ‘he publisher mav continui to send then until aM arrearages are paid. !j If subscribers neglect or refuse to talc jJ.\T nr.tvsp ipis“S from the office to which they .re directed, the.v are held respons ble until they have settled the bills and ordered them discontinued. 4. If subscribers remove to oth-r placis without informing the publisher, and the news paper* ire sent to the tormer direction, they are heM responsible. 5. The courts have decided that refusing, to take newspapers from the ofJic p , °r removing and leaving them unenJlcd for, is pritna fteie evidence of intention il fraud. fi. The United. States Cou.-ts have also, re pe.te llv decided, that a i’ostrosster who neg. leott t> pe'firm his dutv of giving reasonable notice, as required by the Poet Office Depart incut, of the neglect of a pc.-son to take from the offi c new'p.pers vddresaed to him, rend ers he Postmaster liable to the publisher for t.Ht* <!*>*<•,nation jiarpT. ~ JOHN C. REID, ATTORNEY AT LAW. jjiinel‘s9-tv. ( ifeenesbttro, Grors<n. HOLINw7 ST EVE NS. ATT6RKKY IT LAW, GREENSBORO* ORdROIA. WlhU , iractico tit the counties of Greene, itilil viu, Putnam, v*an, Oglethorpe. Tiliafarro an! Hiucock. [FVb. 2. l u soff] UNITED STATES HOTEL, MNo. 232. Broad Street, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. DWELL & MOSHER, Proprietors . UWKIL | J- MttSHKB HdUcaS Card. [HEREBY ‘ rod. r n.y Uianicn untie politic for kmd ty bestowing <>n me ticreiufiire, a li.ger ahar of pitr >*e'd)iinJ anticipated, ami agarn ntrerm.T pro f< s.ioiisl ivrTtre.to any wt> tnv give me a call When not professionally engaged, I may bo toon” at WoodVDrtur Store. -Jan 12. IBGO ly. W. L BBTHF.A. M. D DENTISTRY 7 . f ir.fl. .IIORG.I.V, Sirgeoa ntd Mechanical Dentist. Peufeld, Georgia, WOULD i iform the ciliwii* f Greene end ed joining o,uoiir, that he is prepared to perform may operation pertaining to hie profeeeion, withoret .etei* and diepateb. He will insert from one oon eu tire set ot teeth, ft'shis intention topleeee iH- wlli'fce in rGreoueeboro. on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday of each wees* and ia Penficld the vem-inder of hi* time. An. cell from the country that may be tendered Mm will meet with prompt attention. He rater* to air 4 dm R Murohy of Rome —Feb. t*. l**o MATTINGS AT REDUCED PRICES. 4*€ - WHITE M4TTIX6, $9,00 A I!) L. M White Matting, $lO, a Roll. White Matting. sls a Roll (40 YARDS IN EACH BOLL) The Above are CASH Price*. t#* Orders faithfully attended t. JAS. O, BAILIE 1 URO„ h’ew Carpet Slurs. August*, ‘it , Jobs ST. n LAMMS of a., kinds neatly printed at M> this }•<*. s fWt eerie* and an raneen site’ -JM A Waa&ly JiMpaal’—Odvoted to China Literature, £srlcltare, Foreign and Domestic Sews, Wit, Humor, &c. MSSGKLLANK DOS. H atching the Cloud * BY MBS. CARRIE HOWARD. Loaning my Lead on the window sill, I sit for liotirs. when the day is still. Gazing far np in the deep blue sky,— Gaging with listless, dreamy eve, — Watching the clouds. None may know of the shadowy things. Floating cm airy, gossanur^wings, That Fancy pictures,—nor visions bright That greet, for aye, the ’wildered sight, Watchiug the clouds. Life-like, and full of a changeful hue, Are the pictures I paint on the ether blue; Faithluliy traced,—dark and sad, or blight aud fair,— As oft 1 dream by the window there, Watching tbe clouds. Scenes of this life, ye are passing away,— Visions of beauty, ve speed to decay,— Hastens the hour when I'll sit uo more By window sill or cottage door, Watching the clouds. From the Rural New Yorker. GKAXDMOTAER’S CHEST. “Mother, let us go and look at the things in Giaitdnta’sChest—don’t you want to? ’ ••No, not now, my child.—you may any time you wish.” After a moment’s silence my mother said, in a btilt sadder tone, **’Tis sixteen vears. yesterday, since, we looked at her last, — i have had no mother sit ce !” The tears ran down her furrowed cheeks aud feeling grieved for having so thought lessly calico forth these sad memories, 1 but her alone, that her expressions of sor row might flow unchecked, as memory went wandering hack through years a gone,, when a mother's smile lit up the darkest hours, whet, her hand softened the rough est cares and perplexities, and her* voice rose in praywj for the safely of her chil dren gathered round the hearthstone. Then as they chose companions new, and ties were formed stronger than those which bound them to their home, they were scattered; hut wheu they knew their mother was dying, slowly nut surely, the little band was again united until each should receive her (jA ting blessing Still the mother lingered, and her children's chihliett were often canied to the bedside for Iter kiss and fond caress, “Granina, tell me which is the prettiest Hairy's baby, or mine {’’and the response, “O Maria! ’tis bald ti leave the little ones,’’ would check mrtlitr’s merry sally, as she knew she must leav.. us seen.— Mother told me this, hut “Harry’s baby,” my pretty cousin, never thinks of her who loved us so truly then, aud teUlum of the one with whom she was compared. Why should she I she has no reason to remem ber , other and, perhaps, higher thoughts engross her at tentiun. But can 1 forget, when it was grandmother who said of me, “Call her Lucinda, and that alone, for by that name wo called my iatile one, —the yiuugest. and the prettiest of >y flock, and 1 am going to her soon,— very soon.” My mother tciis me, too, tiin atb-ctiou so fieely bestowed upon me was second only to the priceless love for ncr own children L is a great pleasure to rue to know this— so tew lovo me now, the ugly, d>funned dtild, they all seem •bethink me. 1 seldom leave uiy cottage home, and l sometimes wonder if si e, too, would not forsake me for fairer forms aud faces, auu something like biiteruess steals over my heart. Then 1 come here, open the little chest, and draw it to the window, where I can look away to the hill-side grave-yard beyond the school-house, and see the marble slabs at the head of her grave and grandpa’s, with the locust tr< stretching its limhb out over them,—aud 1 wonder it they look down into my heart and see there the strug gle bet weu distrust and an endeavor to love iu spite of neglect and scorn, or if they never can know how 1 strive to live to meet them again, and pray tor strength to wait patiently. Again 1 turn to the chest and take from it an old black silk bonnet,—so large that 1 can scarcely see. from under it when it is on my head, its lining yellow w ith age, and the strings wrinkled by tying, just as she left them.—a pin-cushion, thread-case, needle-hook, —with the letters “A. R.” of round-headed pins, just as she placed them before she died,—a note-case con raining slips of paper daper 1829, a half doll ir of pewter— uine of “Harry’s” coin age, I tbiuk.—and* bit of “Willie’s first vest.” Title pair of gloves my mother well remembers as having covered * pair oi bands calmly folded, when care and work was lain aside and the wearer listen ed attentively to the “good man’s” words, a “checked bankerebief,” aud a plain one of grandpa’s, (1 can remember him, for ofleu have 1 sat upon his knee and hsii-u* ed to his tales of the atdswt time, often in terrupted to give me a kiss or a little snug.) aud this plain silk reticule, or old fashioned “work bag.” over which I love < to linger best of all. I will optm it now as it lies beside uie, and you shall see its contents. Here are four snuff-boxes, ton so old and worn tbe pictures are gon*. bat tb* others f have bad much pleasure in GREENESBORO’, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY 25, 18GD. gazing upon ; one with a little gitl, a bas ket of flowerß, and a Newfoundland dr-g b p sidc her, the other a portrait of a lady with pissed sleeves, curling hair, and in nuini-ralde beads upon h r bead and neck. Here is yet another, a square box, with a snialh-r lady dressed in a fashion older still. I shall not show you its conteiits, your wondering gaze would be but no,eke ry compared with mother's longing, w ist fnl look You may wonder that she ke ps these bits ot lace and worsted, but each is a treasure in her eyes, as is this bit to bright hued wail paper, and these little papeis labeled, “Mary,” “Emily,” “Har riet,” and “Emelinc,” containing long got den tresses, or _ black curling ringlets. With each paper is a bit of muslin, taken front the shrnuuds of those once happy, buoyant, girl-friends of my mother, and 1 cherish them for her sake. But we will explore the Old Chest no further, —you do not look at ir as 1 do, with reverence, or. at lenst, respect, and Ido not wonder. You have not listened with nte to the little life-incidents, told by quivering lips, <-r wandered to thp silent graves in the pitying moonlight, when the very stavs seemeJ to look into yojjr soul, the doors of your heart all open, and holy thoughts driving hence the evil. “No mother since.” My father’s moth er yet lives, but never does she call moth er, “My Daughter,"—the “Son’s Wife,” has no place in her heart. “No Mother.” All these sixteen years those words have echoed through the chambers of her hcait, and found no rest. “No Mother.” O, can I thank “Our Father” enough ; that in all his chastening love, he has withheld tire greatest punishment, and that if is not yet my lot to say, “1 have No Mother.’” ” i.. m. b. lonia Cos., Michigan, 1860. The Best way to Eudurc Matrimony, Timothy Titcomb write# as follows on what is called, with exquisite irony, tbe divine institution : 1 suppose there, is a modicum of ro mance ill nios* natures, and that if it gaili ets about any event, it is that of marriage. Most people marry their ideals. There is more or lesa fictitious and fallacious gloiy resting upon the head of every bridje, which the inchoate husband be lieves in. Most uu-n and women manu facture perfection in their mates hv a hap py process of their imaginations, and then marry them. This, ot course, wears a wav. By the time the husband lias seen his wife eat heartily of pork mid beaus, and, with her hair frizzled, arid her oldest dress on, full of the enterprise of over hauling thiligs, lie sees that she belongs to the same race, as himself. And she. when her huoband gels up cross iu the morn ing. and undei takes to shave himself with cold water and a dull razor, while, his sus penders dangle at lus heels, begins to see that man is a very prosaic animal. Iu other wotds, there is such a thing as a honeymoon, of longer or bhbrfcr duration.; aud while tho attOMisltine lasts, the radi ance of tl;e soveuth heaven cannot com pare with it. It is a very delicious little delirium—a febrile mental disease, which like measels never return. When the honeymoon passes away, set ting behind dull mountains, or dipping s'lei.tly into the stormy sea of life, the trying hour of marriage-life lias conte. Between the parties there are no morn illusions. The feverish desire of posses sion has gene—vanished into gratification —and all excitement has receded. Then begins, or should begin, the business of adaptation. It they find that they do not love one another, as they thought they did, tiiey should double tuuir assidiotts aUtit tions to one another and be jealous of eve rything which tends in the slightest dt-gtee to separate them. Lite is t<-o precious to he. tlirowu away in secret regrets or open differences. And let me say to every one to whom the romance of life lias lied, and who are discontented in the slightest de gree with their condition and relations, begin this work of reconciliation before you ate a day older. Renew the attei.lions of earlier days. Draw your hearts close together. Talk the thing all over. Acknowledge your faults to one another, and determine that henceforth you will he all in all to each other; and, my word for it, you shall find in your relation the sweetest joy earth lias for you. There is no other wav for you to do. If you are happy at home you must be happy abroad ; the man or woman who hag settled down upon the conviction that he or she is attached for life to an un congenial yoke-fellow, and that there is uo way of escape, has lost life; there is no effort to costly to make which can restore to its setting upon tiio bosoms, the missing pearl. 17* Edward says that the use of alcoholic beverages has cost tbe United Btattje directly, iu ten years, $120,000,000; caused the destruction of 320.000 lives mad* 250,000 criminals, aud 1,000,000 orphans. 0F We regret to learn lhut Mj. E. Bioughtmi, Assistant Engineer el’ the South Western Railraod, died in Enf.tula, Aim, on Saturday night last, from the ef fects “f aun-atrnke Are Women Naturally Polite ? BY MRS. GEO. WASHINGTON WYLLYS. Mrs. Wyllvs asks that question, and then elaborately answers it herself, thus: .Are women naturally polite, did you ask, dear, good-natured Public ? Did you ever know a woman to make room in an omnibus, five on a side, when Number Six was entering, flounced and velveted, until ordered by the driver ? Did you ever know a little pair of gai ter boots to turn one inch either to the right or left when they could have saved you from a streaming gutter by the opera tion? Patent leathers don’t behave so— not they! Did you over know a woman to say, “1 am sorry to have given so much trouble,” when the dry goods clerk had turned things topsy tnrvy, without finding the right shade of a color that never existed? Did you ever know a woman who did not know it was “outrageous’’ for another woman to travel with a baby, or who didn’t regard it as “cruel and barbarous,” if any one objected to the crying of her baby ? Did you ever know two women to talk over a third without ridiculing Iter, even if she was her “dear particular friend ?” Did you ever praise one young Indy in the presence of another, without being confidentially told of some enormous fault or deformity in the Lamer which you hadtrt dreamed of? Did you ever tell your wife what a beau tiful new dress your neighbor had got, without learning that “it was only that I dowdy old silk dyed ever ?’’ Did you ever know a pretty woman to n.ake an impulsion without a half a dozen other pretty women ruining the effect of it the instant she li ft the loom? Dnl yon ever know a woman to apt lo gize for having knocked another won. ait’s bonnet into “pi” (that's printerisin, hut cxpiosMve, notwithstanding,) with the corner t t her parasol l • Did you ever hear of a woman who had an idea that she was making trouble by’ her little airs aud graces? We don’t believe you ever did, reader. They are a race of unaccountahles, these i women, just as sweet and piquant as June roses, sometimes, and then, again, brist ling like so many venemous thorn bushes. There’s one tiling we never ceased tc be inwardly thankful f<>i—that we’ie not a man, aud consequently obliged to marry one of’em! Why she would drive us crazy in a week with her whims and fan-1 cics, her exactions and her pettish ways. 1 We would make the lamentable, henpe.ck- ! ed husband in the world, unless, iudeui, I wc had ilm nerve to run away from her, j or shut her up in.the closet for a week,; nntil site promised to behave belter. ! When a woman chooses she eau be the ! nearest thing to an angel of anything in i this world, and what n pity it is she doesn’t always choose.— Lift• Illustrated. How Torn Bought a Saddle. Upon the banks oi the Mississippi, in’ the Statu of Tennessee there once dwelt an old c hay by the name o* Yad—Turn Yad. Now Torn had liftett an honest and hard working man all his life, but he had never owned a saddle; but as Tom grew old, his w< ,-illh and importance increased, and with it a desire for a lmg skin ; so ito one day packed up a clean shirt, stuffed a hundred doll.ns into his wallet, stepped upon a steamboat, and away he started down to New O leans to buy him a saddle. New this was the first trip Tom ever made; he had lived all Ins life where lie was born, and had never heard any other language than that of his mother tongue. Iu the course ot a few days lie landed upon the lev* e at New Orleans. Poor Tout little knew what lie had to encounter. The Frenchman was there, ttie. Italian was there, the Spaniard was there, the Gcjmau was thcr<—some from all parts or the world were crowded upon the levee ; and there was Tom with his eyes stietcheU and ears open, completely mvstified aud he wildered at the strange jargon going on around him ; he stood it as long as mortal man well could, and at last struck out with his mind fully pie paicd to bo surprised at nothing he saw his errand of the saddle. After wandering abut the city for some time, lie at length found a saddler’s shop. Tom, with heart elate, walked in The first and only living creature which met tiis vision, was a baboon of the lar gest species, sitting upon the counter, playing with the girts which were hanging from the saddle immediately over his head. Torn very politely ad.creased him ; “How do you no, sir l” The baboon grinned and nodded. *•1 wish to buy a saddle,” say* Tom. Tbe sana- expression from the monkey, [it a louder key, from Tom. “1 want to buy a saddle.” Avery polite grin from the baboon. “1 will give vou*tweuiy dollars for that •addle,” says Tout, at the same lime ban •ring him .i twenty dollar bill. The animal l aving seen his master put money into the drawer, took it, and hop ping along tho cannier, made a deposit ui Tom’a twenty dollar note. He returned, I however immediately to but tat liter posi- I lion. “Well, hand us il aw it tit# pig skin. Very little notice from the babboon. “Hang it, why don’t you give me my saddl* l ? Ihave paid you for it, so hand it down, or 1 will take it myself.” An awful chattering from the baboon. Tom not intending to be fooled v ith any longer, reached out and caught hold of his property ; but no sooner had the poor fellow done so than the nails and teeth of the monkey were driven into his arm.— Tom kicked and swore—the baboon bit and screaiued--until, at last, the owner of the simp, a Frenchman, with long mous tache, came rushing into the room. “What you do, sare ? What ybu want in here, yon old rascal? By gar, you shall give me satisfae.hune.” Tom not in the least daunted, but very much exasperated ripped out: “You i tenia I old hairy mouthed scoun drel ! I believe you want to steal iny twenty dollars ! 1 came in here, bought a saddle and paid the money drwn for it, and now when 1 want to be going with it your “sou’ there has refused to let me have it ?” Tom however, got fiis saddle, and re turned the next morning on the boat go ing up the river ; hut has been beard to swear it was the last one he ever wanted to purchase. The First Schoolmaster In New York. The first schoolmaster who ever wielded the ferule in New York, came hero in April, 1623, on board the good shipSout berg, from Holland, in company with stately old Evcrardus Bogardns, the do mine who married Anncke Jans, ando tru ed jointly with her so goodly a portion of worldly wealth, which afterward came down to Trini'y Church, in conjunction with much heart-burning and an inter minable lawsuit., . Adam Roeluudson (or R.Jamison) was tbe first schoolmaster of Manbatten Island and his name should be remembered ns that of the local tutelar saint of the book and the ferule. He came io other good company, too, for Wouter van Twilier, the new Director-General, was on board the same ship—good old Wouter, whose lu minous decision and portly breadth of per son have teen so drolly caricatured by Irving, and who really seems to have been not only a thriving and prosperous mer chant, but quite as good a Governor—spite of traditional ridicule—-as the timw could very well afford for such an out-of-the way and cver-troublesome colon) as New Amsteidam. Adam Roelandsen had not a pedagogic charge of great extent. The little tin horn, with, with winch lie called bis dilatory charges from tlie school-house door on sunshiny mornings, could be heard over nil the settlement; and tho school house itself was only of rough slabs, of height enough to clear tbe head of the pedagogue, aud a dozen feet each way in extent. Affecting Scene. —Remarkable Re cognition <>J an Exhumed Body. —“ Not many years since,” says Fraser’s Mnga zine. “certain miners working far under ground, came upon the, body of a poor fel low who bad perished in the suffocating pit forty years before. Some chemical agent to wliicli the body had been sub jected—an agent prepared in the labora tory of nature —had effectually arrested the progress of ileeay. They brought it to the surface, and for a while, till it crum bled away through exposure to the atmos phere, it lay there, the image of a fine, sturdy young man. No convulsion -had passed over the face in death—the fentuies were tranquil ; the hair was black ns jet. No one recognized the face—a generation had grown up since the day ou which the miner went down his shaft for the last time But a tottering old woman, who bad liunkid from her cot on hearing t lie news, came up, and she knew again the face which, through all these years, she had never qnrte forgot. The poor miner was to bave been her husband the day af ter that on which he died. They were, rough people of course, wbo were look ing on—a liberal education and refined feeling are not deemed e ssential to the man whose work it is to get -up coals, or even tin ; but there were uo dry eyes there, when the grey headed old pilgrim cast herself upon the youthful corpse, and pouted out so its deaf car many words of endearment, unused tor forty years. It was a toftching contrast—the one so old, tho other so young. They had both been young these long years ago. But time had gone on with the living, and stood still with the dead.” Iron Burnt. * for Europe ■—The manu facture of heavy iron beams for buildings and other purposes has been confined al most exclusively to this country, the iron men of Enrope not being shin to produce them, as has been done in this State. At the i'lioenix Works, the largest sized beams heretofore made have been nine inches deep, but, in consequence of largo orders from Europe of wrought beams of 15 inches deep, arrangements are making to commence their insnnfactnre in Hep lumber. These beams are to be 40 foet long.— Philadelphia Ledger. The ceiisueof Houck)ale. pa., skews a population ot 2,504, Against 2,263 in 1850 ’ lining i increase of only 243 in ten yosrs. Tcrms-~51,50 Always in Advance. A Rough Description oj Minnesota. — An attorney in Minnesota, who had ro ceived from another State an account for collection, after acknowledging the receipt ot the letter of instructions, replied as fol lows:. “Now, I am perfectly astonished at you for sending a claim out here for collection, in these times. You might as well east your net into the ‘LakeofFiro and Brimstone,’ expecting to catch a sun fisli, or into the celebrated Stygian pool to catch pickled trout, ns to try to collect money here. Money! I have a faint re collection of having seen it when I was a small boy. I belie v e it was given me by my uncle, to buy candy with (The candy Ido remember.) But it has been so long since I have seen any, that I almost for get whether gold is made of corn or mus tard, or silver of white onions or fish scales. Why, sir, we live without money. You’re behind the timos. It is a relic of barba rism—of ages past. We live by eating, sir, we do. Hoot, man ! the milicnium is coming the year ofjubilec has come, and all debts are paid here as much as they will be, unless you take ‘piujuce.’ The word ‘money’ is not in our vocabulary ; in the latest Webster (revised for meridian) it is marked ‘obsolete, formerly a coin representing money, and used us a medi um of commerce.’ A few small pieces can be seen in our Historical Society’s col lection, where they are exhibited as curi osities along with the skeleton of the ‘mastodon,’ Noah's old boots, and Adura’a apple.” A good story is told concerning the writing of J. W. Brooks, the great railroad mana ger of Michigan. He had written a letter to a mail on the Central route, notifying him that he must remove a barn, which in some matin, r incommoded the road tiinlei penalty of prosecution. The threatened individual was unable to read nuy part of the letter blit his signature, but took it to be a free pass on the road, and used it for a couple of years ns such, move of the •con ductors being able to dispute his interpre tation of the document. It is our honorable privilege to give to the world another verse of “Old Undo Ned ” never before published, but written audßung by the original author. It is an important “addendum” to the picturo: ‘•Uncle Ned’s old dog laid down by his grave And he howl’d in de light of de muon, And wonder’d if Ned wouldn't come bockagain To huut for de possum an’ de coon.” tiPIURAM. Maria’s a clock, they say, Unconscious of her beauty. She regulates the live long aay Exact iu ev'ry duty. If this be true, snch self command, Such well directed pow'rs, • Oh! may her little miuute hand Become a hand of ours. Four boys who were fishing, when a vio lent storm arose, immediately started for home as fast as possible, but bad gone but a short distance when a vivid flash, follow ed by a terrific clap of tliundet, brought them to a stand. Thunder-struck, as it were, for a moment, they stood silent and aghast. Then the leader spoke: ‘Sam, cat, you pray V ‘No.’ ‘Bill, can yon piay V ‘No.’ ‘Jack, can you pray I’ •No.’ ‘Nor I either. What iu h—ll shall wo do V Asa dandy was wending hU way through a narrow passage, he met a pretty girl, and said to her; ‘Bray, my dear, what do you call this passage V ‘Balaam’s pas sage,’ she replied. ‘All! then, lam like Ba^nn —stopped by an angel,’ said he. ‘Ana I,’ rejoined the girl, as she brushed past him, ‘am like the angel—stopped by Traveler on the Mississippi: What makes you have the bar in the centre-why don't you have it on the side oct of tho way t Barkeeper: Well, wo would, but you see it won’t do to have so many pas sengers oa one side of tho boat! A young lady in Muscatine lowa has ex ercised thp leap-year privilege with a per fect success. Her William hung down his head and blushed, but said lie was willing, and should have popped the question him self, it be had had spunk enough. Ladies with bashful beaux, go and do likewise. - - ■W r— — A philosopher who has studied out al most everything, says he is satisfied that the reason why girls are in the habit of pouting out their lips is because they are always willing that theirs should meet yours half way. The papers are bragging of an invention by which leather chii be tanned in ten min utes. Wchave seen the human hide, how ever, tanned in five. Our schoolmaster used to do it occasionally lu two. Women are a great deni like French waiches—very pretty to look at, but very difficult to reguluto when they one* talas to going wrung. Jack said b once worked fttr a man who raised bis wages so high that be could only roach (bean once in two years. Wh v fa lbs loiter j| like the first glass of rum I Because it it Hi* beginning of misery. NUMBER 30-