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The Weekly gazette. (Barnesville, Ga.) 1868-186?, November 19, 1868, Image 1

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r p WEEKLY CAZETTE. POUND & LAMBDIN, EDITORS k PROPRIETORS BAUNESriLLIC, Geohgta. Teb Weekly Gazette is published every Thursday morning-at Two 13oli ap.j per. an mim subscriptions taken for a less pe riod than Twelve Months. ftiiiibledon’s Wooing. py \VM. MAON TURNER, M. D. •He’s a spooney, of course, Jack ; bat he seems a gentlemanly enough M!<-w* considering lie is a Freshman. „ lM j {hut's not saying much.’ Ican'i. bear him, Ned. Asa Fresh man. lie 8 absolutely amazing ! Wh. tal es if lm did take the mathematical tod Latin prizes on entrance? Did 1 not secure the s;itne, and the Greek besides? Yet what cave I for that I [ p.ji vou orm thing, Ned—Freshman nr not (and I rn above such work) Junior 1 am. yet, if I hear of him interfering with my nffaiis again, I’ll j u ii rash him !' is h liit.e impudent, Jack; and gj,, nld lie tangnt n know- his place.— Wei!, well —the truth is, are getting above themselves. But, i say, Jack, that f’tllow is a cool; prouo chap, aud mark my words, he’ll be Lard *o manage.’ ‘Can he show a muscle against that?’ asked the other, bending his Stalwart arm until the roll of hard, sinewy UiusS/t 1 ? teVTied as if they would burst through the olfeeve. ‘And can he scull a boat fourteen miles without blowing —eh. Ned V •Can't say, but the fellow lias mus cle, Jack —and what is more, he has art and courage besides. As I said a bit ago, lie's good at what he may undertake in earnest, be it digging in to Latin, courting of pretty girls, or pommelling a fellow’s visual organs.’ •Ha! La! Ned. Yt hat ? That smooth-faced hoy court a girl ? Why you astound me with your gigantic as sumptions — ha ! ha !’ ‘Come, come, Jack—don’t try to fool me! I tell you Judson Strother can court a girl. I don’ say he has done it. Besides that, he has been to see Emily Gladson more than once, ami tliai's where the. shoe piuclies !' Jack \\ imbledon’s face grew sober and a half frown gathered over it as liearo6e aud strode the floor up and down. I hat young gentleman, now a Ju nior at college, and, despite his loose manners, his questionable morality, and lus complete neglect of his studies at times —that is, whenever it suited him—stauding second iu all of his classes, was the only son of wealthy parents, who lived in the intenor of the State of New York. The spoiled child of fortune—the pet of doting parents —he had grown up his own master; for all that money could do, he could command, He had develop ed hito a tall, handsome young man of twenty, amiable, whet, he chose to be, hut generally speaking of a haugh tv, impudent, domineering disposition. He had never been thwarted, and ob- stinately rebelled when he was oppos ed in anything on which lie had set his heart. He was intelligent, and on that account, and through the magic of his father's dollars, he was quite popular with the faculty. This popu larity, however, did not extend gener ally among the students. There were Lnly a few who hurrahed for Jack Wimbledon, and who loved to bask in the sunshine of bis favor. Among his real friends was one who whs an hon orable, high-minded, independent young fellow, his elirnn, Ned Olnev. Between the two a bond of genuine friendship had sprung up. In the city where was located this coluge was likewise a fashionable, I'tgh'ttanding seminary for girls, nuin bering iig three hundred fair pupils, for the Misses Gaith were deservedly popular as teachers, and the institution under their care was well patronized. Among (be fair ones lately matricuia ting there was a merry-hearted, sun Jiy-taced girl, with a smile on her lips, and a roguish twinkle in her eye, the pretty Emily Gladson, To pass the bounds established by the starch and piiw Misses Garth and to get within ■ llo s *cred precincts of this seminary whs go difficult a task that it might ‘Hll have added one more to the la brs of Hercules. Few, then, could ,p claim to that high-born privilege, be luck, however, that the golden ey cannot turn has not yet been in vented by man. and this key, adjusted to its Rncke.t with an air of impudence ai: j' insuperable confidence, h;d ndmit .. ‘ 1 Wealthy, dashing Jack Wim - 1 .on, before whom the. Misses Garth j^ pit C their loftj estate, bowed and dinged like an Eastern Ka wass before ' * Uubaned master. In a word then, Wimbledon attracted by the * '■> Emily's beauty, for he had clianc. e< ! ° see *he girl one day’, m the street. fUriounded by a bevy of her compan among whom, indeed, she shone ' ie centre of their ref! cted Ins ' tid followed her to the seminary. ~p determined to see more of the ra lant cr eature. With him, to deter e W; s to act, to act was to succeed ? '' gained admittance once, twice. • nice, and every time he had seen and pnversed with Emily Gladson, and j' e ija, ‘ 80 * ar progressed in acquain- that lie had already half flirted toe irftmeent, unthinking, gid- J B' l ; and she, pleased at his atten- j R ° nß ’ a,| d not knowing the impor tance of her conduct, her young heart a'teaed to surfeiting, liad encouraged III bol(i yoang fellow. Jt soon be -1( established, and was received as \V; a £ a nowledged fact, that young ' n , 1 cdoa, after his graduation, a V' . the bright-eyed Emily , ai , i Ile hisses Garth, so lynx eyed wo, SUs picious generally speaking, s j 0 * r lu this matter as guiltless of vi as * a “ Was poor blind Bartimeus, and garder PeCliDg ° rharin R * Eve the qn f bo t tbis time a tall, handome, ( et young fellow of eighteen bad C!l ]^ lef i college as a Freshman. His st)f . ’ .Signified, gentlemanly manner. e V ji 118 high grade of scholarship, givp C | • bls entrance, had already M n Sp Um a popularity both among p r w n 8 faculty Judson Stroth atif) , R ’ ' llf ieed, a young man of mark, mark he had made. Ho was 1 * II A DVI? ¥7 *-r ■- '--i VOL. 1. ASGEI.S BID JIE COME, c M " ' - ... - • } Rr II S. Rep.,. i.— j ° fl^^>r^ hake e cealh ’ s !ann ? 'Tit but lb, toice that Jews seek, To call them to his arms. D ' °' j “"*"■ r- *■ *• •• *>• • ■*.? *, ta * mor . a „, i„ p M c „ , ove • 1 I wifnt to &C„ &e ,blS ' , ' UIU T ie " b,d es t 0 the t . omb? ‘ iwaa there the flesa of Jesas lay, And left a lon* perfume. from ttie same village whence came Emily. So, shortly after his arrival, on the strength of old acquaintance ship, anti aided moreover b\ the tact of being the bearer of a le’iter from tl.e father to the daughter, he had call ed at tlie seminary and asked to see Miss Gladson. ' Tis needless to say that he procured admission. And thus matters stood at the commencement of our story. Wimbledon pausod in his walk, and consulted his friend and chum, Ned Olney. •I want to have a little talk with you. Ned, about tbis matter,’ lie hesi tated. ‘Say on, Jack,’ returned the other. ‘For,’ continued Wimbledon, ‘I can trust you, and there are but few fibre that i can.’ Olne y smilingly bowed. ‘Ned; to tell you tbe truth, I do love this pretty giil very much, almost enough to marry tier !’ ‘Almost enough, Jck ? Be careful in trifling with this maiden’s heart,’ re plied the other, seriously. Wimbledon scanned his friend’s face closely, but he had spokeu in sober earnest. ‘Well, then, punctilious Ned, I love the girl, fchotigh to marry her; aud only spoke as I did to sound yon.’ I he face of the other cleared up. ‘Now/ continued Wimbledon, 'in my wooing 1 have determined on what 1 call a suhjcclo objective plan of attack. My plan, of course, is my own, and the definition I give it may be arbitrary. By subjective action, I mean my attack on the citadel of the gill’s affections. By ohjectiveness, 1 mean a thrashing that 1 will give to any rascal who interferes with me. As to the first point, I have experienced no difficulty. Emily, bless her dear soul, met me half way ; for, Ned, she loves me. As to the second, Judson Strother, the Fresh mam, will furnish an exemplification ; for unless I am mistaken, he’s the candidate for a tin ashing.' The other laughed loud and hearti ly hut lus faee sobered down in a mo ment, as he said: ‘But, Jack, don’t take any unfair advantage of the hoy/ •I never did that yet with any one. Ned Olney,’ and a shade of ! alf an ger passed over Wimbledon’s face. ‘Tiien ’ ris all right, Jack ; and if you succeed, I will write a book on the *Suhjecto-0 jective Plan of Wim bledon’s Wooing.’ 1 ‘Well, Ned, you shall have material enough, I promise you.’ # * * * ‘ls MBs Gladson iu V queried the tall young man, in low tones, as he stood in the long porch of the institute after lie had pulled the bell. •I believe so, sir,’ s iid the girl; •but, hut, M s- Gladson wishes to know if is Mr. Strother or Mr. Wimbledon V ‘Tell her it is Mr. Strother, but say to her that he desires to see her pure- ly on a business matter which concerns her intimately. He moreover begs to aav to her that be will consume but a very few moments of her time/ and Judson Strother's young brow con tracted with manly thought and de termination. He took a half angry stride once or twice up and down the piazza, and when the girl reappeared and invited him in, his face was pleas ant, his brow smooth again. ♦And what may be your business with me, Judson l You know I have to practice all the morning, and then the drawing master comes and - —*’ •Oh ! be not alarmed, Emily/ re turned the othor, good naturedlv, though there was a slight touch of bitterness in his tone. ‘I shall not stand in the way of your intellectual progress or improvement in the ac complishments. I was going by, and thought/on the score of old acquain tanceship, and for the sake of qld times, 1 would step in and say good morning.' ‘Clever in you Judson, but, the girl said you had some business with me/ returned the oTher, coldly. Judson Strother bit that thin curv ing lip of his until the blood trickled down and diopped on bis hand. But controlling himself, while an irrestrain nb!e sneer half distorted his handsome features* he said : •You are, indeed, business-like, ex acting, Emily, but it matters not with me ; I shall do my duty by you, and by your father/ ‘What mean you, sir V ‘I mean, Emily, that the acquain tanceship and cordialiry existing be tween our distant families, demand <>f me that I should be lacking in nothing which would serve yout interests.’ ‘Exceedingly kind in you. sir, but, [ did it never occur to you, that per haps, I was old enough—certainly as old as you, Judson—to look out for myself]’ ‘That matters not, Emily, returned the other, speaking slowly and clearly; ‘there may exist matters in which you cannot look out for yourself —' ‘A truce to this stuff, Judson Strother! I wish to bear nothing fur- jIARiVESViIXE. IHITi-HW. NOVEMBER 19.1868. I her of tins—and—and—'tis nearly time for Mi. Dulaney to commenco— ’ j ‘Listen to me, Emily/ said the other, rising nt once. ‘Ell not detain you longer than one short minute—but allow me to say in my opinion, and (his is what lias really brought mo hither— you should beware of Mr W imbledon.’ The girl sprang to her feet; while her eyes flashed fire. AA liy, Judson Strother, you are nothing but a boy/ ‘And you, Emily Gladson, but a very young and imprudent miss/ re torted the young man, his own eyes gleaming back angrily. But he quick ly controlled himself. ‘Bov or not, Emily,’ lie said, ‘I am yet man enough to see through the duplicity, self- conceit and insufferable pride of Jack Winibleton ; aud nay, hear me out, Emily, ’tis for your ultimate good that 1 speak—Jock YY imbledou is no suit able companion for you. Tbe man, who in company with bis fellows, speaks lightly of women, and boast inglv wagers money on his conquests cannot be an honest man. Jack Wimbledon speaks thus— and thus—of—of you, Emily.’ ‘I do not believe it, Judson Strother I cannot. \\ hy, you are nothing but a Freshman, Judson. and Mr- W imbledon is a gentleman—and and •t Junior. I lus time a terrible sneer broke over young Strother's face. ‘I am a Freshman, Emily, and I am a gentleman. Believe my words or not, I have done my duty, and now, good-morning/ He turned and strode out. Emily did not even answer him —his words had cut her deeply, for i she loved young Wimbledon. As the young man entered the. 1 street, lie saw the subject of the recent conversation, dressed in the tip *.f the inode, harrying toward the institute. Strother knew liis errand, aud won*, dered if Mr. Dulaney s drawing lessons would hinder the reception of the wealthy W imbledon l Bhe two young men passed each other. Wimbledon halted. ‘And so, you are the aspiring Fresh mau, Judson Strother, are vou V ‘1 am a Freshman—an ambitious one—and my name is Judson Strother, Mr. Winibleton.’ •All! very good. I understand you are good at intermeddling. For “my part, I beg leave to tell you, that it you bother yourself ia my affairs, you'll gel a thrashing you’ll remember till you graduate.’ ‘You say so 1 and let me tell you, Wimbledon, in any and ail kinds of rascality, whether or notyou be the father, i will i*.t*-.odtiie, as you are pleased to term it; moreover, Jack Wimbledon, I defy you, now, or at any time, to lay the weight of vour liuc-or ou me, in anger !’ ami Judson Strotliei boldly confronted his stalwart anta gonist. But Wimbledon recoiled, though a deep flush of anger passed over his features. 'Get oat of rUy wary, you young braggart. You forget that you aid a Freshman' and that I am— ’. •These are petty, paltry distinctions, and should not be employed as sud teifuges; there are no barriers be tween gentlemen/ ‘Out of my way, sir! I'll not dirty my hands with you I' his braggart tone was completely changed ‘As you will, sir/ said Strother, ‘but toe pollution may bo on the other side; however,, let ine assure you, ,1 ac k w imbledon, Freshman as I am. L know how to defend my rights ; and to sustain them, and my own dignity. I’ll scruple at nothing,’ and the young fellow walked away. # * #'#### ‘Oh ! Mr. Wimbledon, that naughty fellow spoke so impudently of you and just to think—he's nothing but a Freshman !' ‘ 'Tis indeed amazing, my dear Emily—the arrogance of the fellow is certainly unblushing. But, it shall not go unpunished, 1 assure you, and I told him so fftit a minute ago. By tlie-by, an> 1 detaining you Emily V ‘Oli.no, Mr. Wimbledon, I’ve noth ing tbis morning, now, since at ynur sag 'estion, I sent off that horrible Mr. Dulaney, with bis straight and curved lit.es, his sliades and shadows ! 'Tis nice to have the headache sometimes, eh? Mr. Wimbledon.’ ‘True, Emily / and now let me tell you a plan I have fallen upon.— Strother will do anything for you ; write him a note t> meet you on busi ness in tiie cemetery, at dusk. We ll try a ghost on him, and, under the garb of a ghost, I’ll—well, I’ll see that he is well thrashed, and Ned Olney shall be there to see it, too. for I promised him. But mind you, Emily, if there is any talk about the matter, remember, I did not tell you I would do the flogging/ •Oh ! capitol ! capitol ! Mr. Wim bledon, and the impudent fellow de.- serves it/ ‘Well—write the note now, I’ll drop it in the post —bo’ll get it at six tins evcotDg. Iu the meantime, while lie is m at recitation, I'll f all hy bis ••oom and draw the bullet front his pistol if he’s fool enough to use it. I II fling the ball back iu iiis face, ha ' ha !’ •That is glorious ! Wait a moment, I'll soon have the note.' * * * # * # # The shades of evening had just gathered over the venerable college, as Judson Strother, with throbbing bead and feverish blood, for he bad studied hard that day, entered Ids modest little room in the college. Lie clutched ar a fetter ljing qh the table, tore it opeu aud mad it. A smile of triumph lit up his pale features. At that ciornent, howsver, bis brow grew daik, as a sudden i bought occurred to liirn. \Y hy choose the cburcli yard on a dark winters night I A queer fancy for a young girl ! But he’ll go ; and tossing his pistol in bis pocket, he arose. He paused. Ele drew forth the pistol again and examined it, a few grains of powder foil from it, and rattled on the paper before him. He coolly unscrewed tbn barrel, but there was no bullet in the weapon ! Quietly taking one from his desk, he carefully placed it on tjie charge of powder, and screwed the barrel home again. A bitter smile passed over the Fresh man s face, as he once again concealed the loaded weapon on his person, and strode out into the darkness. He took his way toward the gloomy church yard. A few miuutes’ rapid walking brought him to his destina tion' Quietly seated on a glistening grave stone, was the fair Emily, betraying no emotion whatsoever of alarm. Btrother drew near, but just before icaiming her, a most unearthly groan broke on the air, and a tall figure in sheeted white, dashed out and menaced ihe approaching Freshman. Strother started back, but the ghostly figuro pressed on him, at the s.nno time bran dishing a bundle of rods. Stand back, Jack W imbledon, I say ! 1 know you—stand bacE ! or your blood be upon your own head !’ said Strother, in deep, angry tones, while the clear ring of a pistol ham mer clicked on the air. But with a wild laugh, the white figure dashed on the young man, at the same time striking him over the shoulders a furious blow with the rods. In a second, the clear, sharp report of the pistol rang out on tlie night, and with a terrible scream, young Wimbledon sprang bigli in the ail and fell forward on the frozen earth. The unerring lead had crushed through his brain. Emily Gladson died a year or so ffftftrwarrlo n L-j. ITiHarfU* u UIISOH Strother pursued the quiet, ‘even tenor of his way/ graduated with high dis tinction, and assumed the surplice of a minister. Ned Olney, who had wit nessed the tragic affair, became gloomy and morose, and though plunged into the Vortex of worldly troubles and triumphs, he never forgot the sa i finale to Wimbledon’s wooing. Josh Billinos Mule.—The mule is half boss and halt jrock, and then comes a full stop : nature discovered her urstake. They weigh more according to their heft than any other animal, excei t the crow bar.— They can’t, hear any quicker nor further tlran . a. boss, yet their ears are big enough for snow shoes. You can trust them with any one whose life aint worth any more than the mule’s. The only way is to ke<;p them into a medder fencing and let them jump out. JL’heV are ready for use just as soon as they will do to abuse. They Imint got any friends, and will live on huck leberry brudi with an occasional change of Canada thistles. They are a modern invention ; i do not think ttie bible alludes to them at all. They sell for more money than any other domestic auimule. Yon cau’t tell their age by looking into their mouth any more than you could a Mei/ican’canon. They never have no disease that a good club wont heal. They are very kerruptive heart, like sum men. I have known them to be good mules for six months just to get a chance to kick somebody. 1 never owned one, uor never mean too, unless there is a U. IS. law requiring it. The only reason why they aro patient rs been use they are ashamed of themselves; I have seen educated mules in a circus. They would kick and bite tremendous. Euny mao who is willing to drive a mule ought to be exempt by law fur rnning fortbe Legislature. They are the strongest kieeters on earth, and the heaviest according to their size. I heard tell of one who fell from the towpath of the Erie canawl and shhfc at soon as he touched bottom, but he *cept on towing the boat to the next station, breathing thru his ears, which stuck out of the water two feet six iuebes.— I didn’t see this did, but an auctooeer told me of it, and I never knew an auctioneer to lie unless it was absolute ly convenient. He who has bad ends in view *8 pretty sure to como to one. POKTUY. From the Comet. The Farmer’s Song. Sweet is the bread that toil hath won, And sweet the sleep it brings, And sweetly when the day is done * My cheerful helpmate sings. How proudly round my hearth I sec My sturdy sons draw near, And O hotrLindly smiles on me Lach one that’s gathered here. A thousand songsters welcome me Forth to my daily tail, And flowers of many a form ana hue, Upspringing from the sod. The Spring with promise, beckons me To sow the needful grain, And glorious Autumn, thankful, shows Its harvest mantled plain. The student in his narrow cell Reads by his midnight lamp; I read in Natures open book Truths of immortal stamp. While monarchs tremble on their throne, And quakes the city’s lord, I firmly stand upon the earth, A basis deep and btoai. Sweet is the bread that toil hath won, And]sweet the sleep it brings, Anti sweetly when the day is done My cheer'u! helpmate sings. How proudly round the hearth I see My sturdy sons draw near, And 0 how kindly smile on me Bach one that’s gathered here. K. A Leaf from Life, 1 1' n t rny lovea hook one day; Sue brought it back ; I laid it by ; ’ l 1 was little either I had to say— She was eo strange and I so shy. But yet we roved indifferent things— The sprouting buds, the birds in tune ; And Time stood still and wreathed its wings \\ ith rosy links from Juno to June. For her, what task to dare or do? M hat peril tempts? What hardship bear ? But with her—ah ! She never knew My heart, and what was hidden there I And she with me, so cold and coy, Seemed like a maid bereft of sense ; But in the crowd all life and joy— And fall of hIuoMOJ She married!—well—a w oman needs A mate, her life and love to share— And little cares spring up like weeds, And play'd around her elbow chair. And years roll’d b\—but I, content, Trimui’d iny one lamp, and kept it bright, Till age’s touch my hair besprint YY'ith rays and gkams of silver light. And then it chanced I took the book Which she perused in days gone by ; And as I read such passion shook My soul —1 need must cu r se or cry. For here and there her love was writ In old, half faded pencil signs, As if she yielded bit by bit Her heart in dots and underlines. Ah ! silver’d fool !—-too We you look . I know it ; let me here record IVs maxim : lend no girl a beck Unless you read it a r terward ! The Snow Sheds of the Pacific. Railroad. —We learn from a North ern exchange that the Pacific Rail' road Company are now engaged in erecting sheds over the cuttings and other exposed points. They are of heavy timber framed work with poin ted gable roofs, and look as if they could withstand almost any pressure of snow. Nearly forty miles of flit track will have to be thus covered, and the quantity or timbers required will be enormous. Not less than twen ty-two saw mills, most of them worked by steam, are run night and day, em ploying two thousand men, and yet they do not work up to the newl* of the company. It is estimated that it will require eight hundred thousand feet of lumber to construct a mile of sheds. So great is the demand that the country on both sides of the track is being rapidly denuded of its forests. [Savannah Republican. In Gloucester, Massachusetts, a la dy had occasion recently to leave her house for a few moments, and left her six months' baby on the floor. On re turning she was surprised to find the child missing. After searching, she discovered that the family dog had ta ken the baby to the garret, and depos ited it there in a basket of rags. 'Troubles never come singly’—as Jones said when his wife piesemed I him twins- I W i*lt 1 I:a<3 a C apital. So we heard a great strapping young nuin exclaim the other day j n an We did want to gi e l.ir a piece ol our mind so bad ; and we’ll just write to him. You want capital, “do you? And suppose you had what you* call capital, what would you do with it? You want capital? ILtvn'tyou hands and feet, and muscle, and Lcme, aod brains, and don’t you call them c*pi tal? What more capital did God give anybody? “Oh, but they are not money,” gay you. But they are more lean money, and nobody can take them ftom you. Don’t you know how to use them ? If you don’t, its time you were learning. 'Jake hold of the first plow, or hoe, or jack-plane, or broad axe you can find, and go to work. Your capital will soon yield you a large iuterest. Ay, but there’s the rub ! You don’t want to work ; you want money on credit that you may play gentleman and speculate, and end by playing the vagabond. Or you want a plantation with plenty of hirelings upon it to do the work, while you run over the country and dissi pate/ or you want to marry some rich girl who may be foolish enough to take you for your good locks, that she may suppoit you. Shame on voir, young man. Go to work with the capital you have, and you will soon make iuterest enough upon it to give you as much money as you want, and make you feel like a man. If you can't make money on what capital you have, you could not make it if you had a million dollars in money. If 3-011 don’t know how to use bone and muscle and brains, you would not know how to use gold. If you let what capital you have lie idle and waste and rust out, it would be the same thing with you if 3-011 had gold; 3’ou tvould Gnly know Low to waste it. Then don’t stand about idle, a great helpless child, waiting for somebody to coiue and feed you, hut go to work. Take the first work you can find, no matter what it is, so long as y-ou do it well. Yes, whatever you undertake, do it well ; always do your best. Il yon manage the capital you already have, you will soon hate plenty more to manage; but if 3-ou can’t or won’t manage the capital God has given you, you will never have any other to manage. Do you hear, young man ? J Exchange. Going to Law. —Two Dutchmen who built and used in common a small bridge over a stream which ran through their farms, had a dispute concerning some repairs which it required, and one of them absolutely refused to bear any portion of the expenses necessary to the pmcliase of a lew planks. Finally, the aggrieved party went to a neighboring lawyer, and placing two dollars in his hand, said : ‘I give you ali dish moneys if you’ll make Hands do justice mit de pridge/ ‘How much will it cost to repair it V asked the honest lawyer. ‘Not more ash vun dollar/ replied the Dutchman, A ery well,’said the lawyer, pocket ing one of the dollars, and giving him the other,‘take this, and go get the bridge repaired ; his the bost course yon can take.’ •laas/ said the Dutchman, slowly, ‘yaatr, dat ish more better e.s to quar rel mit Ilans but aa he vent along home, he shook nis head frequently, as if unable, after all, to see quite clearly how lie had gained anything by going to law. How to Court j\ Church.— A young gentleman happening to sit at church in a pew adjoining one in which sat. a young lady for whom he Conceived a sudden and violent passion, was desirous of entering into a court* ship on the spot, but the place not being suitable tor an informal declara tion, the case suggested the follow ing plan. He politely handed the fair lady a bible opened, with a pin stuck in the following text—Second Epistle of John, verse s—‘And now I beseech thee, not as though I wrote anew commandment unto thee, but that we had from the beginning, that we love one another.’ She returned it pointing to the sec ond chapter of Ruth, tenth verse : ‘Then she fell on her face, and bowed herself to the ground and said to him : Why have I found grace ill thine eyes, seeing I am a stranger V He returned the book, pointing to the thirteenth verse of the third Epistle ef John : ‘Having many things to write unto you, I wcukl not write w’itb pen and ink, hut I trust shortly to come unto you and speak face to face, that our joy may be full. From the above interview a mar riage took place the ensuing week. A UAH Story.-—The following ac cident recently took place -very close to Kosciusko's grave, at Zuchwyl, in the Sw'iss canton of Soleure : A Swiss Major, by the name of Rednarsky, scarcely 36 years old, who liad fought bravely in fifteen battles, had arrived at Zuchwyl to pay homage to the; great hero of Poland at Lis bumble j trrave in the Swiss village church v-ai-H j While some Swiss Infantry soldiers were filing at a target, he took a walk to the banks of the Aar, taking bis little eigbteen-montbs-old son with i hitn. Although lie w’as between two j and three thousand yards from the In fantrymen, one of the bullets fi ed by them pierced bin heart and killed him on the spot. When he did not return two hours after, his wife, who had awaited him at the village hotel, grew uneasy, and went in search of him.— She found his corpse/ the little child slept peacefully <'n his father’s breast. The distress of the poor widow excit ed the greatest compassion throughout Switzerland. You can't persuade a rainbow to make its appearance cu a clear sky. It is resolutely beut ou the cloud- Clippings. .■ I'lthnu it Partly.—A caimTblut eyed self-possessed young lady, in a village down eait received a long call the other day from a prying old spin . ter, who after ntolenging Lor Kay even liyondher own c o'cepA n of the y is; g lady’s endurance, e?;m<* to the main questiun which had luvugLt her hither. ‘‘l’ve Lem asked a good many times it you were erg iged t,j Dr. 1). Now if folks inquiro agam IN O. 5. whether you he or not, v l.at shall I tell ’em I think ?” *1 ell them/ an swered the 3 outig lady, fixing her cal n blue eyes in unblushing steadiness up on the inquisitive features of her in terrogator, *tell them that you think yon don’t know, and you are sure it is none of your business.” Patronize Advertising Gnrsi One who knows what he is talking about, discourses in tins wise: When we see a business firm giving publicity to their particular branch of trade, w o argue that such a house is alive to the requirements of the times. It implies not only keen sagacity, but likewise that sort of liberality' which is sure to attract the attention of the trade.— Alany establishments forego the bene fits of advertising from a spirit of mere penuriousness. They reason in this way : ‘Should W3 it c ir n outlay of fifty or one hundred dollars or five hundred dollars, possibly we never get it back—then it would be so much throwu away.’ Thesa are timid men always, and properly belong to a past generation. The true man of business, appr,. dating the fair advantages of be ing represented in newspaper coluv. ns. looks upon advertising as ‘bread cast upon the waters'—and should 1 e find no immediate fruita of his expendi tures. be rests at ease, being fully sat isfied that it ‘will return after man days.’—[Exchange. Sale or Land.— -Tuesday last, being sale day as well as elccti* n day-, the following tracts of land were sold at public outcry : The Parker Callaway homestead, 3,030 acres to Willis Jones, at $4 05 per acre. P. Callaway's Newnan place, 415 acres, to Robert Is ash, at $2 75 per acre. Dr. Henry Pope’s place, 1 ,550 acres, to Wiliian A. Pope, *t ST 25 per acre. The Jonathan. Smith place, 650 acres, to William Tthod es and J". W . Smith, a,t So 05 per acre. The land irl re.-tbsed for sale by the administrator of J. R. Dußose, were not sold on account of defective legal arrangements. f Washington Gazette G th. ‘eta,’said a little girl to her mother ‘do men want to get married as much as women do V ‘Shaw, no! what are you talking about V AV by,’ said the girl, the women who come hero are always talking about getting married; the men don’t. The following note was lately re reived by a gentleman from his over seer; ‘please send me by the boy, a pair of trace chains, and two door hinges. Jane had twins last night— also, two padlocks—spurs Ac.’ A dat.dy, with a cigar in his mouth entered a menagerie, when tlie pro prietor requested him to take the weed from his mouth, lest he should learn the other monkeys bad habits, A gentleman who bad been victim ized by a notorious borrower, who always forgot to pay, called him one of the most promising men of his ac< quaintance. A young man advertises in a New Jersey paper for a situation as son-in law in a respectable family. Would have no objection, be said to go a short distance iuto the country, A gentleman on taking a volume of ‘Gibbon's Rome’ to be bound, was ask if he would have it bonnil fu rTTi.no, ne repned; ‘Russia is too far off. I will have it done here.’ A poet seldom feels at home in a bail-room, lie cannot exchange the music ol the spheres for that of fid dlers. Someone said lo I)r. Johnson. ‘Sir, you must not believe but half what that man says.’—‘Ah/ said the Doctor ; ‘but which half?’ Light Pies. —A certain landlady* it is said, makes her pies so light that her lodgers can see. to go to bed with out a candle after baling a moderate sized piece. A sick dog isn’t generally strength ened by a course of bark. Many a person, who talks of laying uow-n his liic, had much better clevata it. The lady whose ‘peace of mind' wa3 broken, intends to have it repaired. A woman might let her head bo cut off for her husband s sake, but not her hair. ‘Rut money in thy purse,’ as the pickpocket said, when lie robbed a man of an empty one. Armies sometimes follow- an empiy and puffing general as the storm clouds follow the wind. Heads are excellent things but it is better to boa man of one good head than a monster of seven. They.are fools who iusiot on being' peifeetJy miserable because tLey can not be perfectly happ\. It is often a pretty good matrimo nial firm that consist of three quarters wife and one quarter husband. If a lover finds a pleasant note from his sweet-heait stuck into his key-hole, it is a key-note to Lis heart. What is that which Adam never saw, never possessed, and yet ho gave to each of h"i6 children 1— Parents. A celebrated advertised that he would supply dims for any occasion.’ A fisherman sought him soon alter, and wanted a ‘line strong enough to catch a porpoise.’ Women are like magazines. They must have their little romance and tboir padding to make them perfect, The beet tLiug/a fuff can do if-^Rf-