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VOL. V.
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NEWSPAPER DECISIONS.
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larlv from the post office—whether directed
t® his name or another’s, or whether he has
subscribed or not—is responsible for the
pavment.
2. If a person orleis his paper discontin
ued, he must pay all arrearages, or the pub
lisher may continue to send it nntil payment
is made, and collect the whole nmonnt.
v bet her the paper Is taken from the office or
not.
3. The courts l.ave decided that refusing
to take newspapers and periodicals from the
postoffice, or removing and leaving them un
called for, is pnma facie evidence of inten
tions! fraud.
TOWN DIRECTORY.
Mayor— Thomas G. Barnett.
noMMissioNßßS —D B. Bivins, E: R.
J:«mps, G. P. Bivins. W. B. Pierce.
fb.KRK—G. P- Bivins.
Treasurer —\Y. S. Shell.
Marshal. —S. A. Belding. Marshal.
JUDICIARY.
A. M. Sprkr, - Judge.
F. D. Dtsvuer, - *- Solicitor General.
Batts—Second Mondays in March and
September
Henry—Second Mondays in January and
July.
Monroe—Fourth Mondays in February,
and August.
Newton—Third Mondays in March and
September.
Pike—First Mondays in April and Octo
ber.
Rockdale—Third Mondays in February and
and Aug ust.
Spalding—First Mondays in February
and August.
Upson—First Mondays in ,May and No
vember.
CHURCH DIRECTORY.
Methodist Episcopal Church, (South.!
Rev. Wesley F. Smith, Pastor Fourth
Sabbath in each month Sunday-school 3
p. h. Prefer meeting Wednesday evening
Methodist Protestant Church. First
Sabbath in each month. Sunday-school 9
A. M.
Christian Choech, W. 8. Fears, Pastor.
Second Sabbath in each month.
Baptist Churcii, Rev. J. P. T.voo, Pas
tor. Third Sabbath in each month.
CIVIC SOCIETIES.
Pink Gbovr Lodge, No. 177. F. A. M
Stated communications, fourth Saturdays in
each month.
DOCTORS
TvR. J, C. TURNIPSEED will attend to
-I" all calls day or night. Office *t resi
dence, Hampton. Ga.
"I VR. W. H. PEEBLES treats all dis
■l' eases, and will attend to all callß day
and night. Office at the Drag Store,
Broad Street, Hampton, Ga.
DR. D. F. KNOTT having permanently
located in Hampton, oflers his profes
sional service* to the citizens of Hampton
and vicinity. AH orders left at Mclntosh’s
store will receive prompt attention. sp26
DR. N. T. BARNETT tenders his profes
sional services to the citizens of Henry
and adjoining counties, and will answer calls
day or night. Treats aH diseases, of what
ever nature. Office at Nipper’s Drug Store,
Hampton, G*. Night calls can be made at
my residence, opposite Berea church. apr26
JF PONDER, Dentist, has located in
• Hampton, Ga.,and invites the public to
call at his room, upstairs in the Bivins
House, where he will be fonnd at all hours.
Warrants all work for twelve months.
LAWYERS.
CW. HODNETT, Attorney aDd Coun
• sellor at Law, Jonesboro, Ga. Prompt
attention given to all business.
GEORGE P BIVINS. Attorney at Law.
Will practice in.the State and Federal
Courts. Collections promptly attended to.
Office up stairs in the Mclntosh building
Hampton, Ga. marl2tf
TC- NOLAN Attorney at Law. Mc
• Donough, Georgia: Will practice in
the counties composing the Flint Circuit ;
the Supreme Court of Georgia, and the
Uuited States District Court.
WM. T. DICKKN, Attorney at Law, Ln
cust Grove, Ga. Will practice in the
counties composing the Flint Judicial Cir
cuit, the Supreme Court of Georgia, and the
United States District Court. apr27-ly
GEO. M. NOLAN, Attorney at Law.
McDonough,Ga. (Officein Court house)
Will practice in Henry and adjoining eoun
ties, and in the Baprerae and District Courts
of Georgia. Prompt attention given to col
lections. meb2B-6m
JF. WALL. Attorney at Law, Hamp
ton, Ga Will practice in tbe counties
composing the Flint Judicial Circuit, and
the Supreme and District Courts of Georgia
Prompt attention given to collections. ocs
EDWARD J. REAGAN, Attorney at
law. Office up stairs in the Mcfoto#h
building, Hampton,Ga. Special attention
given to commercial aud other oollectioDs,
ONE AND FAITHFUL.
All athwart the fragrant cedars,
And the river’s deep, dark splendor,
All athwart the waving hemlocks
The gleumy moonlight lies,
A-s they wulk a favorite pathway
Where the leaves breathe whisperings
tender,
And he cares not for the darkness
While love’s light beams in her eyes.
Out upon the tranquil river
Fall the willows' folded shadows,
And they dunce fantastic measures
At the South wind’s faint request,
While the oreatb of ripened clover,
Yielded by the grateful meadows,
Lulls the happy birds to slumber,
And makes sweet their nightly rest.
Up the grassy slope they ramble,
Where the moonlight falls uubroken,
’Till they reach the farthest summit,
And the town seems far away ;
Many glunces fond were bartered,
'Though but few, lew words were spoken
As they climbed the hill which latest
Bade farewell to parting day.
But at last—brave heart I —he whispered :
•‘See yon streams that meet and mingle?
From two sources strange and distant
'They begin their constant flow;
I will be like one, if thou wilt,
So our lives may be a single
Stream of love and trup devotion,
Bright with joy’s unchanging glow.”
O’er the hills by that same river,
Old and gray- haired, now they wander
(Many years have lived and perished,
Yet those shining streams still meet.)
And their hearts are one and faithful.
While in silent thought they ponder
Memories of the days depurted
When they Tarned that life is sweet.
—Caleb Dunn.
Wives of Literary Men.
It has frtquently beeu asserted that a lit
erary life is not conducive to matrimony.
Be that as it may, the fact i 3 patent that
nearly all ol those men who have risen to
eminence in the world of letters have been
married.
It has been further orgued that literary
men are almost always suflerers frem con
jugal infelicity. This is by no means so
The eminent journalists of New York have
been especially fuvored iQ their married life.
Mrs. James Gordon Bennett was a tall,
finely-formed woman of commanding pres
ence, with the same hue and remarkable
eyes thut are a distingushing feature in her
son. “Watch eyes’’ they are Culled, because
of a perceptible whitening surrounding the
pupil. L-mg ago some of the brightest let
ters that appeared in the New York Herald,
ever the signature ‘‘B. C. H.," the transpos
ed initials of her name—Harriet Crean Ben
net, —written abroad by her, were read with
pleasure and avidity. Bennett met his wife
at a Catholic Church fair. Her parents
kept a small needle and thread store, and
were bumble and industrious. After his
marriage Bennett went to housekeeping in
Chambers street, but they soon broke up,
and Mrs. BeDoett went to Europe, accompa
nied by her eldest son, and remained abroad
for several ycarp. On her return they took
board at a hotel, and lived in this munner
until the purchase of the Fort Washington
establishment, where housekeeping wus re
sumed. The Fifth Avenue house was also
bought (or a winter rtsidence, and here Ben
nett died in 1878. The family never bad
any really domastic life; Mre. Bennett was
of a gay and dashing tom, while her hus
band was absorbed by the Herald, whose
profits she shared to a large degree. It is
said that her anDnal allowance was S2O 000,
which was a handsome amount, espec
ially when contrasted with the income of
a thread and needle store.
Horace Greeley’s wife was a small woman,
whose srllow comph xion and attenuated fig
ure betrayed the delicate health from which
she suffered for years. She was an original
thinker, and one who-e mental stores could
always be relied upon to furnish something of
value whenever she could be persuaded to
open to her frier.ds the doors guarding them
As Miss Mary Cbeyne, she was a successful
teacher. Greeley met her at a boarding
house called “The Temperance House,” at
No. 43 Barclay street. She made a strong
impression upon him, aud when, some time
later, she went to Richmond, some love let
ters passed between the two. This resulted
in an engagement, and just as Greeley hud
gotten the Tribune well under way, be went
to Richmond and brought bom® I,is bride.
For some time they bearded, and then Gree
ley hired a cottage on the banks of tbe E>st
River, near what is now Fgrtysfourth street.
This place was then a mile di-tantfrom the
nearest omnibus station. Greeley used to
HAMPTON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 30, 1880.
get home at 3 in the morming. and left
against 11. His wife’s eccentricities de
veloped rapidly and strongly, and in the end
prevented social Iffe between them. As the
years passed they continued to increase, and
Greeley yielded to their gradual influence,
until their domestic life became tbe strangest
In the rauge of American literature. Under
all these peculiarities, Mr 9. Greeley was
philanthropic, and naturally mumble, but she
had peculiar notioos, and kuew well how to
maintain them.
Henry J. Raymond untried Miss Emeline
Weever, who resembled Mr*. Greeley
in stature. Small und stylish, the first look
at her face gave little indication of the force
and cnltnre which was hers. A woman of
mind, who read exclusively, she was an ac
complished and charming conversationalist,
who speedily caused her visitor to forget her
lack o' beauty. In the relations of wife and
mother, she was all that is admirable, and as
a frequent contributor to the New -York
Times tbe readers had an omple opportunity
to judge of that capacity, which she possess
ed in no ordinaiy degree.
Tbe only survivor of these four brilliant
wnmeD —Mrs. Charles A. Dana—is of me
dium height, slender and graceful, her luce
a perfect oval, with luminous dark eyes.
Intellectual, graceful and beaatilul, she is
one of the most pleasing women to be met
with to-day in society. —New York Sunday
Times.
A “Tenderfoot’s” Experience
with a Comanche Pony.
The one thing, however, io which the
tenderfoot is most likely to miss connection
and run away behind the schedule is “tbe
mounting a wild steed of the plains.” There
is an immense amount of uncertainty io this
procedure, though there is not the slightest
trace of uncertainty in the steed—all West
erners know just exactly what the average
animals will do. Last Monday a very nice
young fellow, who had arrived just the day
before from Boston, set out to purchase a
pony. He went to one or two corrals with
out being suited, but finally in the third he
found just the animal he desired. The man
told him that it was a Comanche pony, and
the quietest little brute that ever struck the
plains, but despite all the arguments and
recommendations of the owner, the young
maD was determined to try the animal before
purchasing, and so while he donned a pair
of spurs, four men and two good-sized boys
saddled the Comanche pony aDd held hitn
within the corral. The young man was a
grnJnate of Ihe swell Boston riding-school,
and hi* bosom swelled somewhat with pride
as he reflected on the Itsson io grace end
skill be would now give the border ruffians
who were congregated about. As he came
out into the corral he noticed two men get
ting behind the pump, and three more
crawling up on the roof of tbe shed in tbe
corner. He Paid nothing, but thonght it
odd. Then he placed his left foot in ihe
stirrup and vaulted airily and gracefully into
the saddle, while tbe four men and two
good-sized boys let go the pony and turned
and fled at the top of their speed.
Airily and gracefully the yonng man
vaulted into the saddle, and almost instantly
he ascended airily and gracefully into the
blue ether above. There was a puzzled ex
pression, as of surprise and thought, flashed
across his face, and as he agaiD struck the
saddle and for the second time wandered
upwards, be had an uncomfortable look
about him. as though he would like to ask
some questions, but couldn’t. Into the sad
dle again, and then into the atmosphere with
a whirl and a rush, that made the two men
behind the pnmp shudder. Up, up, he went.
He could see the roof of the Gruod Central
and could readily distinguish tbe new Court
house io Golden. The view was grand and
extended, but he didn’t seem thoroughly
satisfied, and he looked troubled, as
though he wished he was absent. Then he
began to descend, and about the time he was
due in the snddle, he struck the ground, and
knocked his boots about his Deck, and drove
h;s spinal colonin four inches into his brain.
They (hoveled him up, and took him to bis
hotel, and the next day, Tuesday, he was
sewn up in a canvas sack, and shipped back
io his home io Massachusetts. It was his
first bucking, and probably his last. He
said; when be fir»t returned to consciousness,
that he had often beard of the surprising
agility of Western poDies, but he hadn’t
known until dow that they were fed on
dyDanvte and nitro-glyoerine and operated
by a two hundred cell battery.
This is but one experience in many, and
the ot w ermer who invests in a pony bad
better exercise considerable enjtion, and,
even at an increased expenditure, get an
animal with sufficient American blood in,
him to deprive hits of natural pure cussed
ness. and act as a sort of check on a wild
I tendency to buck. Denver Tribune.
Supporting the Guns.
Did you ever see a buttery take position ?
It hasn’t the thrill of a cavalry charge,
nor the grimness of a line of bayonets mov
ing slowly and determinedly on, but there is
a peculiar excitement about it that makes
old veterans rise in the saddle and eheer.
We have been fighting ot the edge of the
woods. Every cartridge box has been emp
tied once und more, and a fourth of Ihe bri
gades has melted away in dead and wounded
and missing. Not a cheer is heard in the
[iwhole brigade. We know ihat we are be
ing driven foot by foot, and that when we
break back once more the line will go to
pieces and the enemy will pi nr through the
g a ß
Hero comes help!
Down the crowded highway gallops a
battery, withdrawn from some other position
to save ours. The field fence is scattered
while you could count thirty, and the guns
rush for the hills behind us. Six horses to
1a piece—three riders to each gun. Over
flry ditches where a farmer would not drive
a wagon, through clumps of bashes, over logs
u foot thick, every horse on the gollop, every
wider lashing his team and yelling—the sight
behind us makes us forget the foe in front.
The guns jump two leet high as the heavy
wheels strike lock or log, but not a horse
sickens his pace, not a cannoneer loses his
»eU.
Six guns, six caissons, sixty horses, eighty
men, race for the brow of the hill a 9 if he
who reached it first was to be knighted.
A moment ago the buttery wus a confus
ed mob. We look again and the six guns
art* in opposition, the detutched horses hur
rying away, the ammunition chests open,
and along our lines runs Ihe cumnmnd :
“Give them one more volley and fall buck to
support the guns 1" We have scarcely obey
ed when boom I boom ! boom! opens the
battery, and jets of fire jump down and
scorch the green trees nnder which we fought
and despaired,
The shattered old brigade has a chance to
breathe for the first time in three hours hs
wedorro a line of battle behind the gunj and
lie down. What grim, cool fellows these
cannoneers are! Every man is a perfect ma
chine. Bullets plash dust into their faces,
hut they do not wince. Bullets sing over
and aronnd them, bat they do not dodge.
There goes one to the earth, shot throng!)
the head as he sponged his gun. The ma
chinery loses just one bent—misses jnsf one
cog 5u the wheel, and then workß awuy
again as before.
Every gun is using short fuse shell. The
ground shakes and trembles—'lie roar shuts
oat all souuds from a buttle line three miles
long, and the Bhells go shrieking into the
swamp to ent trees short efl—to mow great
gaps in the bushes—to hunt out nnd shatter
and mangle men until their corpses cunnot
be recognized as human. Yon would think
a tornado was howling through the forest,
followed by billows of fire, and yet men live
through it—aye ! press forward to capture
the battery ! We can heur their shouts as
they form for the rush.
Now the shells are changed for grape and
ennister, and the guns are served so fast
tl at all reports blend into one mighty roar.
The shriek of the shell is the wickedest sound
in war, bat nothing makes the fle°h crawl
like the demoniac singing, purring, whistling
grape-shot and the serpent I ke hiss of can
ister. Men’s legs and arms are not shot
through, but torn off. Heads are torn from
bodies and bodies cat in two. A round
shot or shell takes two men out of the ranks
as it crushes through Grape and canister
mow a swath and pile the dead on top each
other.
Through the smoke we see a swgrra of
men. It is not a battle line, b«t a mob of
men desperate enough to bathe their bayo
nets io the flame of the guns. 'The guns
leap from the ground, almost, as they are de
pressed on tbe foe, and shrieks and screams
and shouts blond into one awfnl and steady
cry. Twenty men out of th® battery are
down, and tbe firing is interrupted. The
foe accepts it as a sign of wavering and
come rushing on. They are not ten feet
away when the pons give them a last shot.
Thai discharge picks living men off tbeir feet
and throws them into tbe swamp, a black
ened. bloody mans.
Up now, as the enemy are srooog tbe
guns 1 There is a silence of ten seconds,
and then the flush and roar of more than 3,-
000 markets, and a rush forward with bay
onets. For what I Neither on the right,
nor left, nor in Ittnt of |M is * living foe!
There are cni pees »rou®4 as which have
been struck by three, four ssid ®v« b six bal
lots, and* nowhere «■ this acre of ground it
a wounded man 1 Tbe wheels of the guns
cnonot move until the blockade of dead is
removed. Men cannot pass fiom caisson to
guo without ciimbitg over wiurows of de-d.
Every gun and wheel is smeared with
blood—every foot of grass has its horrible
stain.
Historians write of the glory of war. Bur
ial parlies bbw mnrder where historians saw
glory. —Detroit tree Press.
The Death of Albert Sidney
Johnston.
On Sunday, the 6th day of Arril, 1862.
Johnstnu, with hU eager army, began his
fatefnl fight. Ffe handled his ardent army
with brilliant skill and impotnoslty. When
ever there wav a p:in»e In the onward move*
ment be led the charge in person. To those
who snw him that day, as the wrltpr did, in
all the glorious fever of that delirinn* sne
eoss, mounted opon a magnificent steed, his
massive figure seeming to enlarge to gignntic
size with tbe ardor of battle, his face aflame
with his indomitable spirit of fight, he was
the ideal embodiment of the fiery essence of
war. He threw himself with rtckleas Indif
ference Into 'danger And the Inst charge
that broke the Federal posiiinn was led by
him in person under a perfect b!»Zv' of flame
nnd hall, bis horse shot In four places, bis
clothes pierced, his hoot-sole cut by a min
nie, bnt his person untouched. It was in
this supieme moment of victorious onset, a
decisive trinmph seemingly and surely in his
eager grasp, that a fatal bullet struck him,
a small woand under 'be knee, severing the
poplitcui urtery.
Governor Harris, of Tennessee, who wn«
on his stuff, rodp up to him, seeing him reel
in his saddle, and holding him steady, asked
him: "General, are you wounded?" He
replied deliberately and with emphasis ?
■Yes, and I fttur seriously ’’ Me was lifted
to the ground. His boot was full of blood,
and the life current pouring out beyond
recall. He never spoke again. General
Preston knelt by him, nnd asked him pas
sionately : ‘ Johnston, do yon know me?"
General Johnston smiled faintly Lying in
a ravine oat of the reach of merciless bullets,
he was dead in a twinkling.
Could General Johnston have hud imme
diate medical attention be would- have sur
vived. llis stuff surgeou was Di. David W.
Yuodell, of Kentucky, and bo was away
from him under circnmstnnces tbit consti*
tute the most touching and beautiful feature
of this romantic death. The Federals, in
retreuting, left, of course, their wounded
behind. In riding forward Geueral Johnston
cumo across a squad of wounded Federal
officers and soldiers. Stopping, he kindly
addressed them, and asked if any were
wounded. Then, turning to his staff, he re
marked :
“It neoriy breaks my heart to sec men io
that uniform (offering. Doctor," addressing
Yaodell, “do stop and see if you can do
something for these poor fellows.”
Dr Yundeli stopped on this humane mis
sion, and General Johnston owed his death
to the absence of skill and instruments, and
ihis absence was due to his tender humanity
to the wounded foe—a humanity tbo more
striking because it was exhibited in ell the
excitement of baitle. —A Ceoigia Colonel in
the Cincinnati Enquirer.
A Witty Furfton.
A Scotch clergymau by tbe name of
Watty Morrison wus a man of most irre
pressible humor. On one occasion a young
officer scoffed at the idea Unit it required so
much time and study to write a aermou as
ministers pretend, and offered to feet that he
would preach half an hour on any passage
in the Old Testament without the slightest
preparation. Mr. Morrison took the bet
and be gave for a text, “And the ass opened
bis mouth and be spake.” 'The parson won
tbe wager, the officer beiug rather disin
clined to employ bis eloquence upoo that
text.
On another oecssiun Mr, Morrison en
treated an officer to pardon a poor soldier
for some offinse he had committed. Ibe
officer agreed to do so if be would intoro
grant him the first favor he should ask.
Mr Morrison agreed to this, fn a day or
two tbe iffleer demanded that tbe ceremony
of baptism should be performed on a puppy.
The clergyman agreed to it; and a party of
many geutlemen assembled to witness the
ootel baptism.
Mr. Morrison desired the officer to bold
up ihe puppy, «» wus customary m the bap
tism of children, and said :
“As 1 ant a minister of the church of
Scotland, 1 must proceed according to the
ceremonies of the church.”
“Certainly,” said the Major; “I expect
all tbe ceremony.”
“Well, then, Major, I begin by tbe usual
question, *•You acknowledge yourself the
father of this puppy 1"
A roar of laughter burst forth from the
crowd ; the officer threw tbe candidate for
baptism away, and thus the witty minister
turned tbe laugh against tbe infidel, who
iuturtiej to ikriUe the sacred ordinance.
Henry Clay anti (lie Goat.
The following story of Henry Clay will
doubtless recall the man who caught a bear
by the tail—it was dangerous to hold on,
but it vra« death to lot go t
A* Mr. Clay came bjt of the Capitol at
Washington, one day, seeing a frightened
woman in the street vainly trying to ward
off the attack @f a sportive goat, he gnl
zbnt'y, in spite ftf yesVs and office, seized
rhe goat by the horns.
The woman thanked him warmly and
sped hurriedly on. Mr. Clay would have
liked to mote on also but the goat had its
own »iew9 about the interference with bis
innocent amusement.
As soon ns the woman’s deliverer loosed
his hold on the goal’s horns, the animal rose
majestically on his hind legs and prepared
for a charge In his own defense, Mr. Clay
now took the animal ns before by the horns,
and (bus for a time they stood, while a
crowd of street boys gathered about, im
mensely amused at the unusual spectacle of
a Senator and a gnat pitted the one against
the other in a public street.
As long ns Mr. Clay held the goat all
was well enough, but the moment he was
free, came a fresh preparation for a charge.
Not ahoy offered assistance; but after a
while one ventnred to suggest :
' Throw the Billy down, sir.”
Mr. Cloy at once nccepted and adopted
the report of the committee, and tripping
the goat up, essayed to pass on. Before he
could fairly turn any way, however,the goat
wos up in lofty preparations for a Dew
charge.
Mr. Clay gave his enemy the floor, or
pavement, once more, and, keeping him
there, tnrned to bis new adviser with the
question :
"And what shall I dp now?’’
“Cut und run, Bir," replied the lad.
A Fast Clergyman.
A story which is exciting considerable
amusement i» related of an occurrence.* hi'-h
took pluce a tew days since in an adjoining
town. A retired clergyman from this citv
was ir.vitrd to conduct a funeral in the
town. lie upplied to n well known liv'ry
man for a qoiet horse, and was given a vet
eran pacer, which in years long gone by had
mode fast time, but was supposed to havo
outgrown all such vanities.
The clergyman j<»ui fteyed quietly to his
destination and held the services at the house
of the deceased. When the funeral pro
cession was ready to start for the cemetery
the minister wos some distance from his
proper place at the head ef the column. As
the procession was wailing for biin he urged
his steed to* faster pace, and to uccrlerntu
the speed of Ibe animal be pulled opou the
reins. This was a fatal proceeding, for the
animal had been trained to go for all he was
worth when the reins were drawn light.
The familiar pressure revived eld recol
lections, and the animal look the bit between
bis teeth und passed the astonished mourners
and friends at n 2:40 gait. The clergyman
exerted all his strength to check the speed
of his steed, hot without saccess. The bar*
der he pulled the faster the animal went,
and in a very few minutes the minister and
Ilia horse and carriage disappeared in u cloud
of dast The friends of the deceased were
very much unnoyod by the occurrence, and
the unfortunate clergyman was much morti-
Bed by the ooaduct of his steed Satisfactory
explanation were made, however RodteHtr
Herald.
“Sometimes, when I look back orcr my
life,” nays Bunlelte, “I am amazed to set)
bow tbe pages of its record are dotted with
bair-bread! b escapes. I escaped the dan
gers and hardships of tbe Revolutionary war
by waiting until tbe war had betm over
about sixty years before I got boro. When
tbe Brooklyn Theatre burned 1 was in Bur
lington. Whru tbe yellow fever broke out
in New Orleans i was io Minnesota and
immediately skipped out for Canada. When
i was u boy at school ooe day all tbe boys
in school were flogged all round for robbing
au apple orchard, and tbe flogging didn’t do
a bit ot good, for every beggar of them had
thu cholera-morbus ail ibat night, just the
same. And 1 ? I was attending another
school, tweuty-lbree miles di.-tuut. When
all of my brothers and sisters were down
with the scarlet fever, I was down .South in
tbe army, and when I road the letters from,
borne 1 laughed aloud to think of my great
good fortune, and that I would only have to.
be shot at once or twice a week, instead of
having to taka medictne three times a day.
When a man comes to the office with a little
bill, nine times out of ten lam pitf. And
if, by some astonishing blunder. I am id,
then, indeed, 1 am more unfortunate, but the
man is in no belter luck lhau before."
Asuttir Gieece — Old butter,
NO. 4